Title: Turning Tables

Rating (overall): T

Spoilers: none , AU

Warnings: Homophobic language, self-destructive actions and underage drinking

Summary: How far you would be willing to go in order to escape the pain? Blaine has been dealing with this question for too long already and maybe what seems the right to do isn't what is the best for him. Pre-sequel of Don't Tell.

Notes: Hello beautiful people, this is Turning tables, my new one-shot.

This one-shot consists in Blaine's back story of my story Don't Tell, so I highly recommend read Don't Tell after this if you want to know what happens next.I will put Kurt and Blaine as the main characters of this just in order to make easier for people who read Don't Tell find the one-shot, but be warned, Kurt will not appear in this one-shot.

Well, I really hope you like this, I tried give you a better vision of Blaine's past and reasons why join the army and become the shattered Blaine of Don't Tell.

Let me know what you think! :)

~Loli


Turning tables.

"I-I like you" Beth Carlson confessed, blushing crimson red. She was such a pretty girl. Her long shinning hair fell above her shoulders in strawberry colored curls and her huge and expressive eyes had this chocolate color contrasting with her pale skin that was covered with all those light and adorable freckles.

Beth was truly beautiful and every boy that sat in that church would kill to hear that murmured confession during the sermon- well every boy, except Blaine Anderson. While any other boy would feel amazed and happy,Blaine felt strange and uncomfortable. He was only eleven years old and Beth was his friend. She wasn't his best friend, but she was special to him. Beth always made him laugh during the pastor's sermon, making fun of the way how the old man sometimes spit accidentally when he raised his voice, Blaine really enjoyed her company.

He just didn't enjoy it enough to say that he liked her back. And that was why Blaine didn't manage to answer Beth; he looked her big chocolate colored eyes and the words stuck in his throat. His eyes began to water and the curly headed boy couldn't understand why he just couldn't speak, why he couldn't say what any other boy in that church would have said.

"I like you too Beth" they would have said, and most of them wouldn't even meant it, but they would say anyway just to be able to kiss Beth's full pink lips. But notBlaine; he couldn't say that, and he also wasn't sure if he wanted kiss Beth's pink lips either.

Seeing the confused reaction of the curly haired boy, Beth's expression changed from an embarrassed to a hurt one. Why Blaine wasn't saying that he liked her back? Every boy liked her! She was pretty, her hair was perfect and her mom even let her use cherry flavored gloss! It didn't make any sense for Blaine reject her; he always laughed at her jokes and didn't mind when she furtively touched his hand.

Angry and feeling rejected the ginger girl furrowed her eyebrows together in an angry glare and loudly went sit close to her parents, not caring about the fact that the whole church was witnessing her outburst as she left Blaine behind, confused and embarrassed.


"Why Beth was mad with you?" Sarah Ann asked at the dinner table later in that day, seeing how upset her son ate and had this thoughtful expression in his face during the whole dinner. Something was wrong with him.

"S-she said that she likes me…"Blaine confessed shyly, seconds before beginning to grip the table cloth under between his fingers. He was feeling how his dad was fixing his glare on him.

"And what did you said to her?" James inquired, glaring sharply his son. The curly haired man could feel the anger boiling inside of him upon seeing his son's 't seem upset because a girl asked him out! He should be happy not behaving like confused a little girl.

"I-I didn't said anything,"Blaine murmured, embarrassed and not looking in his father eyes.

"You what?" James gasped, becoming unbelievably angry. "For God's sakes boy! If a pretty girl says that she "likes you" you don't behave like a little fag, you say that you like her too!" He shouted, annoyed with his son's weakness.

"J-James! Don't be so hard on him, maybe he just doesn't like her," Sarah spoke before receiving a harsh look from her husband that clearly said "This is a man's subject. Shut up!"

"Of course he likes her! He is always chatting with her during the pastor's speech!" James grunted, irritated. He couldn't remember how many times he had to ask his son to shut up during the pastor speech because the ginger girl was making Blaine laugh.

"He just wasn't man enough to act on it!" James yelled punching the table and scaring Blaine.

The boy involuntary flinched his eyes closed, a reaction unacceptable for his father. A real man didn't flinch like that, and James was raising a real man- he would let Blaine turn into a little fag like that Brian boy that attended his church.

"See? He behaves like a little faggot! For God's sakes, Sarah you spoiled this boy to much!" James barked, annoyed, before leaving the table, having barely touched his food. He needed something to drink and he couldn't face how pathetic his son was anymore.

Seeing his dad leave the dinner room annoyed by his weakness made Blaine feel like someone had punched him in the stomach. An unbelievable shame was spreading through the short boy's body and the only thing he could think of was how much a failure was, how pathetic he must had sounded to his dad.

"I-I am not hungry anymore m-mom, can I go to my room?"Blaine pleaded fighting to not let the tears that burned his eyes fall.

"Sure honey, you can go to your room," Sarah said, smiling sadly. Her voice was cracking and she couldn't look at her son's hazel eyes without feel a lump forming in her throat.

"I will take some triangular sandwiches to you later, ok honey?" The short woman spoke as her son climbed the stairs and ran to his room without looking back.

Once again Sarah would end her night taking plates full of untouched food off the table and crying silently.


Slamming his door closed,Blaine threw himself on his bed sobbing loudly. He knew that he shouldn't cry, men didn't cry, but the aching sobs hurting his throat and the tears burning his eyes didn't let other choice come to fruition. He was so mad, so ashamed, why did he always have to be such a failure?

Burying his face on a white pillow,Blaine screamed and screamed until his longs ached with exhaustion. He was feeling so suffocated as he yelled against the fluffy cushion. He was feeling like an idiot- his dad was right, he liked Beth didn't he? She was funny and had a cute red hair, why he would like her? Every boy liked her!

Every Sunday, the boys would murmur how nice she looked, how they want kiss her full pink nodded because that was what he should want right? He also should want kiss her glossed pink lips!

Staring the roof, he began to think about Beth's heart shaped lips; they were pink and smelled like cherry. Closing his eyes shut, the curly haired boy tried to picture how it would be like to kiss her lips. But in his imagination, it didn't feel good, not like the boys said that kissing should feel; the only thing he could imagine was how it would be sticky and how after the kiss he would be smeared with Beth's cherry flavored gloss all over his face.

It didn't seem good, just sticky.

And before he could understand why, another thought crossed his mind and Blaine began to imagine how it would be kiss Teddy, the blond boy that sat behind in the church.

Teddy was taller and older tha nBlaine, and he also has full lips, but somehow his lips didn't seem sticky and he also didn't smell like cherry. Teddy smelled like mint and shampoo. And he wasn't soft like Beth, he was strong, his chest is flat, solid and thinking about made Blaine want to know how Teddy's flat chest would feel under his palms.

Teddy had strong arms too. How would it feel to touch his arms?Blaine considered this with his eyes shut, picturing how nice it would be touch Teddy's long and tanned arms.

Soon Blaine began to feel an unfamiliar heat taking over his body as he was thinking about Teddy's arms and chest and he opened his eyes widely, panting. What the hell he was thinking? Teddy was a guy, he couldn't think about how his lips would feel like or how his arms were strong, only faggots think in that way, and he wasn't a faggot.

He couldn't be a faggot.

New tears began to burn Blaine's eyes as the realization suddenly hit him. He was a faggot.

That was why he didn't know how to answer Beth, that was why he wanted touch Teddy's chest. He was a freaking faggot, a "filthy abomination" as his dad used to say. He was one of those people that the pastor talked about as he spat, saying that they were sick, that they would go to the hell.

Feeling anger as he never felt take over his body, Blaine clenched his fists. Why did he have to be a faggot? Why him of all people? Seeing the crucifix hanging on his wall, all that Blaine wanted was smash it, break in little pieces. Because God wasn't good, he was punishing Blaine when he didn't have done anything wrong. Why had God made him want like this if it was wrong? Why he was supposed to go to the hell? His dad hurt his mother, his dad drank and yelled with him and he was going to haven! That wasn't fair!

Grabbing the sacred object between his fingers Blaine threw it against the wall with all his strength, shattering it in pieces. God wasn't fair! He was a good boy! He never didn't anything wrong! Why did he have to be an abomination?

Still feeling angry, Blaine kicked and smashed everything he could reach, the family pictures, his toys, everything. He just wanted the heavy feeling in his chest to go away. Years of screaming, years of abuse from his father, years seeing bruises on his mother, all was coming back, boiling in his stomach.

And all that anger inside of his chest didn't seem to have an end; it just got bigger and bigger as he broke things around him. He just wanted put all that burning feeling out, with his sickness, with his desires of touch and smell of Teddy's blond hair. But those feeling didn't fade away even a little until Blaine fell to his knees. He hurt his knee and it began to bleed. Blaine could feel an aching pain spreading through his leg as a he discovered a new feeling. He felt comforted by that pain, strangely that felt good, under his control. The anger wasn't strong as it was before anymore.

And then he began to kick and punch himself too, not only his room, because Blaine just needed some sort of control and he could control that pain. He couldn't control his desires, he couldn't control the way how the Teddy's mint scent made him blush and feel warm but he could control that self-inflected pain.

Blaine only stopped when his body was too exhausted, when he couldn't even move anymore and standing seemed impossible. Then he stayed on his knees, staring the broken crucifix in front of him for several minutes, too exhausted to feel anything. Tears kept running his cheeks but he was too numb too feel or care.

For him, that exhaustion was good, that numbness was good. There was only pain and hate to feel anyway, and Blaine already knew those feelings very well.

After 11 years, those feelings already were one of the few the constants in his life. Blaine had already moved three times; he was always changing schools, changing his address, the only things that didn't change in all his life were those feelings, they are always there. Sometimes deep in his chest, other times struggling to surfacing, but always there.

And now Blaine has a new feeling to carry, because his father was right, he is a faggot, an abomination and he was ashamed.

"Oh my God Blaine! What happened here?" His mother gasped, shocked after entering Blaine's room to give him some triangular sandwiches and finding everything destroyed and her son kneeled in front of a broken crucifix.

"Please d-don't tell dad…" he murmured before Sarah knelt in front of him and hugged him tight.


"I-I like you too," the hazel eyed boy lied before Beth squealed happily and wrapped her arms around him, placing her glossed lip on his.

It feels gross and sickly, just like he imagined, but Blaine promised himself that he would get used. The pastor said that fags are only sick people and if he was sick he would cure himself.

He was decided to cure himself even if he had to deal with Beth's cherry smell and her sticky lips.


When Blaine was sixteen old, he discovered the magic of alcohol.

Yes, for sixteen year old Blaine, alcohol was magic. Only a magic thing could make him feel better looking at himself the mirror. Only something magic would make him not feel guilty kissing girls and fantasying a warm and solid boy in their place.

It was in another of his "friends" parties where they used to get drunk and try make the girls drunk as well to fool around that Blaine had his first cup of beer. The taste was bitter and a little gross but as the cold liquid ran down his throat and his body began to relax, Blaine forgot his fight with his dad earlier and discovered an amount of new feelings.

He could feel only dizziness with alcohol in his system, and accompanying this dizziness came this weird kind of happy feeling that made his environment more enjoyable and kissing girl less gross.

It was the perfect, and in a matter of time until alcohol became Blaine's new easy escape.

When he drank he didn't remember how he constantly lied to his best friend, Santana, about everything, how things were in his home, how he much liked girls. She was his only true friend and he couldn't lie less for her than he lied to every other fake friend that didn't care a damn for him.

Drinking also made him forget that deep inside, deep down where no one could see, he was afraid and alone. The cool feeling that filled his body when he emptied those red cups, made him forget the way James sometimes grabbed his shirt calling stupid faggot or shoved him against a wall when he messed up something in the car that they are building together while his mother continued to pray for guidance locked in her in her room.

For a while, going to parties and drinking worked, but soon that is not enough. Because James was turning ruthless and his mother suddenly began to question her husband more, still being tentative, but questioning, and that only makes staying at home even more unbearable, because the fights and the bruises was becoming more frequent. And hiding all that is becoming more painful as the days passed. They aren't the fucking happy family of the Christmas card and there weren't enough parties to provide Blaine with enough alcohol to keep pretending.

So he began to steal his father's beer- it's not like James will miss it anyway since he has thousands of beers and is usually too drunk to notice.

When Blaine was feeling bad, when he just couldn't take anymore, he went back to the basement and opened one of those bottles of bitter comfort. Because he wished he could be like his dad, straight and strong, but he wasn't- for the last five years he had been trying change that, cure himself, and sometimes it even works, but most of time it just made everything more painful and he need an escape, a exit from all that pain.

And after drinking a bottle or two, Blaine began to feel better and somehow he managed come back for his room, even feeling dizzy and shaky. He lied on his bed staring the glued crucifix that he had broken years ago until the sleepiness came to carry him to the perfect world of his dreams.

In his perfect world he was a real man like his dad, his family would be perfect like the Christmas cards, he would love his girlfriend and he actually enjoy building a freaking car every Sunday after the church. In this perfect world he didn't feel bad during the pastor's sermons or when his mother played the matchmaker for him, shoving all the kind of cute and good girls in his lap.

Every night after stealing beer from his dad, Blaine drunkenly prayed to his glued crucifix, begging that the world of his dreams lasted even after he awake up.

But no, every time he awoke the next morning, his perfect world vanished because he could hear his dad screams down stairs humiliating his mother and that would never happen in his perfect world. Blaine also wouldn't wake up feeling his head aching and wanting to vomit, he wouldn't have to fall in his knees vomiting in the toilet before lying on the bathroom floor letting tears slipping down his cheeks as he lied to his mother that he was just with stomach flu.

Blaine was sick of the real world already and was not sure how much more he could endure before he broke just like the crucifix hanging in his wall once had. The only thing he knew was wouldn't be so easily repaired like the crucifix was.

Once he broke, it would be forever.


Weeks before his graduation Blaine awoke with a girl curled next to him.

She was breathing lightly against his neck and he could feel her soft skin flush against his. There wasn't any layer of clothes between them and memories came back and filled Blaine's mind with a pretty clear reason why they were naked together.

He had sex with that girl. He lost his virginity after another stupid party.

That was supposed to be the moment of his life, waking up after his first time, he should be feeling satisfied, a man. But he wasn't feeling anything of that. His head was pounding, he was feeling like vomit and he could see empty bottles in the corner of the room.

Blaine was feeling gross and disgusting like he had never felt before.

He left the room before the girl woke up. He just wanted get out of that place and hide in his room, maybe even steal another beer from his dad. Yes that would make him feel good.

Putting his clothes on, Blaine escaped that place before the other people in that house woke up and began to congratulate him for the sex- he wouldn't know how handle that. The boys that said they were his friends would want to know the details, how it was, if the girl was hot. Blaine would snap hearing their questions.

He didn't want to remember, he didn't want to remember how the girl moaned under him, how everything was quick and gross or that the only thing he was thinking during the whole thing was if that would finally cure him.

When Blaine finally got home, he just wanted go to his room and take a shower to wash every disgusting feeling off of him. He didn't want talk with anyone, he didn't want breakfast, he just wanted go to his room. But of course things couldn't be in the way he wanted, they never were.

"Hey Blaine," His dad greeted him soon Blaine stepped inside of his house.

"Hey d-dad," Blaine uncomfortably greeted him. He didn't want face his dad, not now, no feeling like he was feeling.

"You spent last night out?" James asked him noticing that Blaine was wearing the same clothes he was hearing yesterday.

"I-I…" Blaine muttered, but once more words seem stuck in his throat.

"Oh my god! You did! Finally! I thought I would have to take you in a brothel or something!" James grinned feeling proud of his son for the first time of his life. He son wasn't a faggot after all- he had spent the night out with a girl!

"I-I didn't…" Blaine tried to explain himself, feeling disgusted with the proud look in his father eyes. He wished for that look his whole life, he did everything he could to earn one of those looks, but somehow now it didn't felt right, it didn't feel good.

"Come here champion! Now you finally are man!" James says wrapping his arms around his son for the first time in years.

Blaine stayed frozen as his dad hugged him, his eyes brimming with burning and unshed tears because that doesn't felt good, be hugged by his own father doesn't feel good at all. He always dreamed with that moment, with the moment where his dad would feel proud of him, the moment where he would finally be a man. Why couldn't he feel good about it?

When James finally removes his arms from Blaine's waist, the boy quickly invented some excuse and ran to his room. He couldn't even look James in the eyes, he was too ashamed, too embarrassed to look at his dad's proud hazel eyes. Waves of self-hate were already drowning him and he couldn't snap in front of James, he had worked too hard to make his dad proud, Blaine wouldn't ruin that.

Getting to his room, Blaine went to take a shower, wishing that the cold water would wash away his sins and tears. But as he took off his clothes and saw all the scratch marks and hickeys he just felt more and more disgusted with himself. Memories of the brown haired girl kissing and leaving marking on his skin filled his mind, making his stomach flip with repulsion. He didn't feel that about the girl, but about himself, thinking in how low he had gotten just trying be a man, and the worst part was that even after all that, everything still was the same, nothing had changed at all.

He still was one of the abominations that the pastor talked every week, he still desired for the touch of another man, even after being touched like he was by a woman.

Tears ran down his cheeks, their heat contrasting with the ice feeling of the cold water falling above his head, as Blaine cried in the shower. Now he was sure, he couldn't change that, the sins that haunted him since he was eleven years old, that sickness, all that was part of him, of who he was.

And knowing that only made things even more twisted and painful.

Soon his dad would tell his mother about how he had spent his night out and she would want know everything… Who has the girl, how long they were dating. How Blaine was supposed to look in his mother eyes filled with expectations and say to her that if felt disgusting and that he never wanted to look in that girl's eyes again?

That would break Sarah, if his mother knew all the sinful thoughts that Blaine had been fighting against all those years, she would be disgusted. Blaine was sure of that. He would ruin every dream, every hope that made his mother wake up every morning and stand her husband's behavior. Blaine knew that she did that for him, that she hid the bruises and pretended not to care about the abuses because she wanted to give him a future, because she never worked in her whole life and depended of James. His mother wasn't a bad person, Sarah was just raised to be a submissive wife and even being extremely unhappy and living a lie she stood by that situation thinking that this was the right thing to do, that it was the best for her family.

And Blaine couldn't ruin the little things that brought his mother happiness, like her dream of his marriage in a white little church, or picture how her grandchildren would look like, even having the sure knowledge that he couldn't change what he was that he couldn't be fix as once he thought he could, he still couldn't be truthful with her, that would devastate her.

After spending several minutes in the shower, when he didn't have any more tears or strength to cry, Blaine decided that he needed some fresh air. So he put on some clothes and avoided meeting his mother or father and went out to walk adrift, hoping to find an answer, an escape from all that pain and shame that surrounded him at home.

And Blaine walked for hours until he could feel his feet hurting, but he kept walking. Because he still felt like he hadn't gone far enough, he still could feel the judgmental eyes of his neighborhood on him, he still could feel his mother's expectation on his shoulders, his dad's hateful words echoing in his ears. So he began to run because walking wasn't working anymore, he still was close too close from the source of his pain.

Blaine ran and ran, he didn't care if people were looking him with weird glares, he just wanted go away that place. Go away from everything, the broken crucifix, Teddy and his mint smell, his broken room, the stolen beers, the naked girl laid besides him, Blaine wanted escape all that, the suffer, the misery.

So he kept running, with all his strength as far away as he could. But when Blaine finally reached the green sign that said "You are leaving Lima, thank you for your visit" he knew that he wasn't far enough. He needed to go even farther, to a place where he couldn't hear his dad's screams or his mother's hopes, where no one expected anything from him.

Blaine needed to leave that place, that was the only thing he knew in the middle of all the mess his life was and he was decided to grab the first chance that he had and he would leave that Lima.

And this chance came. Before Blaine even have the chance make his away back home, the chance of leaving that place stopped him in the form of a military uniformed man holding a bunch of pamphlets.

"Hey son you already think about join the Army?" The military recruiter said grinning with white polished teeth and handing Blaine a green pamphlet.

"Where I can enlist?" Blaine asked without even read the pamphlet or listen what the man had to say. That was his chance, he was going leave Lima, nothing could be worse than live in that hell.

Or at least that was what he thought.


Soooo...What you thought about it? Now Blaine's behavior makes more sense? You think I should do a one-shot telling Kurt's past too?