Authors Note: This story is a twist of a classic fairy tale plot using some of my favorite Glee characters.

*Some characters personalities have been slightly altered to fit in with the story.

*This is rated T just to be safe. There is some talk of abuse.

I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Ryan Murphy and the Fox network. I own nothing.

Happily Ever After

It seems every morning is the same. I feel the warmth of the sun fading and the cold settle in as I slowly regain consciousness. I don't want to wake up. My dreams are always so nice and waking up is just my morning slap in the face, having to realize that none of it is real and I'm still just me. Kurt, the orphan, living in the same filthy apartment I'd been living in since as far back as I can remember.

I still don't know exactly what happened to my parents. My so-called "guardian", Dave, refuses to tell me anything and just yells at me to shut up if I ever ask questions about them. The only thing I had from them was a tiny locket that had been around my neck forever. Inside was a picture of me as a tiny baby, grinning happily at the camera. I don't even remember how I got it, but I never took it off. It was my only reminder that I had once known something besides the yelling and abuse. I longed to know more about them, but I learned a long time ago that it's better just to not mention them at all. There's always something nagging at the back of my mind though, telling me there's a whole lot more to my own story, things I'd give my right arm to find out. When I was little, I used to sit in my chair in the corner of the dirty kitchen and wrack my brains, trying to dredge up memories from my past. All I could ever see were two blurry shadows hovering in front of me and a soft sweet voice singing a few snatches of a haunting lullaby. I'm 16 now, and still I find myself dreaming of the life I might have had until reality gets in the way again. What I have instead is a dirty, cramped apartment in the East Village of Manhattan, no parents, and a good-for-nothing drunk who keeps me locked up in here day and night, doing every little chore under the sun, while he disappears all day doing God-knows-what.

Things were always bad, but they got steadily worse as I got older. I grew taller, but I didn't change all that much. I have very pale skin, a seemingly toothless smile, and a babyish look to my face. The worst was my voice. It's always been higher than it should be, something Dave was quick to notice, He started calling me names, things I didn't understand. One day, I was sitting by the window watching a group of kids my age walk by. I noticed that I wasn't looking at the girls. I was looking at the boys. At first, it scared me. Weren't boys supposed to like girls? Fairy. Fag. Queer. Was that what all those names meant? It took me several years to accept myself as I am. I'm gay, and there's nothing wrong with me, no matter what Dave might say and eventually, I learned to just tune it out.

I pushed my sweaty bangs out of my eyes, and glanced at the clock above the oven that I had recently managed to repair. It was 6:30. Only half an hour until Dave was due to come back and I wasn't anywhere near finished scrubbing down the kitchen floor. This wasn't good. I was still sore from the other night when he shoved me in to the bookcase because I hadn't finished in the living room. The chances of avoiding another episode like that tonight were looking pretty slim. Not like it was ever really avoidable. No matter how much I cleaned, it was never good enough for him. I gave a defeated sigh and dropped my scrubber, walking over to the small window that overlooked the dark street. I paused for a moment, looking at my faint reflection in the glass. My tattered clothes were filthy and my chestnut brown hair was greasy and limp, feebly drooping over my forehead. I'd have to try and get myself cleaned up a bit later, if I got a chance. I pushed against the window, wishing desperately that I could make it open somehow, but I knew it was no good. He kept the doors and windows locked at all times, telling me that I had no business leaving the apartment while I had work to do. I leaned my forehead against the cool glass of the window and closed my eyes. I'd give anything just to get out of here for one day…..

I jumped as I heard his key turn in the lock and the door creaked open. I spun around as he shuffled in the room, breathing heavily, bringing with him the strong smell of stale beer. He stopped when he saw me by the window, his face flushing red with anger.

"Whatya think you're doin there, fairy?" he growled at me, his eyes narrowing. "You aint got no business over there. You got your work to do!"

I stayed by the window, rooted to the spot, as he moved towards me.

"This place is a mess! It's your job to clean this place up! Whatya been doin all day, huh? Just lazin around, I bet. Well, you aint gonna do that anymore!" He said, grabbing a heavy book off the shelf and throwing it as hard as he could at me. I couldn't move out of the way quickly enough. It slammed hard in to the right side of my face, and I felt a stinging pain as I crumpled to the ground.

"Get back to work, fag," He said in his slurred speech, moving away in to the other room.

I stayed clear of him for the rest of the evening, keeping my eyes downcast and cleaning in silence. I didn't dare check the time, though I knew it must be very late and I was beginning to get very tired. It was never safe for me to stop until I was sure he was passed out cold.

I slowly peeked back in to the living room, searching for his ominous figure. He was nowhere to be seen. I tiptoed further in to the room and stopped dead. The window was open! I could just make out his shadow on the fire escape, obviously having a smoke. I watched him from the shadows as he slowly shuffled back inside, yawning slightly from all the alcohol in his belly. He moved right past me and collapsed on to the bed and immediately began snoring loudly.

I could hardly believe it. He had forgotten to lock the window again after coming back inside! I had dreamed and dreamed of the day that I would have a means of escape from this place. I started to rush towards the window, but stopped halfway across the room. If he woke up and found me missing, I had no doubt he'd find me. I didn't know my way around or anyone who could help me. I couldn't leave.

I turned away, meaning to head back to my kitchen corner, when I caught sight of my reflection in the window once again. A purple bruise had bloomed on my cheek from where the book had hit me earlier. I reached up and touched it, staring intently at my reflection.

No…..

I couldn't stay. I needed to know how it felt to be free, even if it was only for a night. I grabbed an old worn coat from the small closet off the dingy kitchen and slowly walked over to the window. I paused, trying to control my shaking fingers before I reached out and pushed the window wide open. I took a deep breath and tentatively put one foot out on to the fire escape. I felt it tremble slightly beneath my weight and for an instant, I almost reconsidered, but one glance behind me in to the dark depths of the apartment was enough to spur me in to action. I climbed fully out the window and slowly descended the steps in to the dark street below.

As soon as my feet touched the pavement, I was running, eager to get as far away from my dark prison as possible. I was several blocks away before I felt comfortable enough to stop and catch my breath. I stared at my unfamiliar surroundings. I had no idea where I was, but strangely enough, I felt safer than I had ever felt before. Before I could stop myself, I was laughing, fighting for breath. I was free! I had hours and hours before Dave would wake up again. I could do whatever I wanted!

Still laughing quietly to myself, I set off again, heading further downtown. I walked for another quarter of an hour until the sound of voices stopped me dead in my tracks. I looked across the street and saw a group of kids about my age, sitting in a circle and talking happily together. I darted across the street, keen not to be spotted by them, but still wanting a closer look. I situated myself behind some bushes near them and peeked through the leaves.

There were three boys and two girls. Two of the boys had a muscled build, like they played some kind of sport, and were tossing a small ball back and forth to each other. One had dyed blonde hair, while the other had a dark Mohawk. The girls were both tall and slim, one blonde and one brunette, and wearing expensive looking coats and hats. Both girls seemed to be clamoring for the attentions of the third boy, whose face was hidden from my view. I wanted to know what he looked like. I leaned further in, pushing branches aside trying to see…..

"Hey. There's some kind of animal in that bush over there. You see it move?" The blonde boy pointed in my direction.

"Who cares? It's probably just some stupid cat or something. Forget about it, Sam." said the other boy.

The first boy who noticed my movements paused for a moment, looking at my bush. Then, without warning, he threw his baseball as hard as he could straight in my direction, hitting me directly in the stomach and leaving me gasping for breath.

"Hey! Someone's over there spying on us!" The boy yelled to his companions, starting to run over.

I knew I should run, but I was frozen with fright and I was still breathless. The boy grabbed me by the collar and dragged me out from behind the bush and back towards his friends, throwing me on to the ground. I felt tears spring to my eyes as my shoulder made painful contact with the hard ground. Tonight was supposed to be my one night away from all of this, but here I was, in the company of people who looked like they'd like nothing better than to beat me to a pulp.

"What the hell do you think you were doing, you little creep?" the boy asked, nudging my body with his foot.

"Ugh. He looks like he's one of those gross homeless people. He was probably gonna try and mug us." This time it was the brunette girl who spoke, looking down at me with disgust.

"I….I wasn't g-going to do anything. I s-swear." I managed to gasp out, my teeth chattering.

"Yeah, right. Like we're gonna believe some little freak like you! Did you hear his voice? He sounds like a scared little girl!" said the boy with the Mohawk. With that, he kicked me hard in the side, causing me to double over in pain.

"Noah, stop!" said an unfamiliar voice.

I stayed curled in a ball on the ground, braced in readiness for any more blows that might come my way. Instead, I felt a soft hand on my shoulder, encouraging me to sit up. I moved in to a sitting position, keeping my legs curled against my chest. The third of the boys was crouched before me, looking at me with concerned eyes. "Are you OK?"

I just stared at him. He was handsome, with a smooth olive complexion, bright hazel eyes, and a head of fluffy dark curls. He made to reach out towards me, but I scrambled away, afraid.

"Blaine, what are you doing? That little freak was gonna try and mug us," said the brunette girl.

Blaine shot the girl a look of intense dislike. "Really, Santana? And how do you know that for sure? Even if that thought was on his mind, that doesn't give you any excuse to attack him like you guys did. He didn't do anything to provoke you. I seriously can't believe you guys did that." His voice was shaking with anger.

The boy called Noah rolled his eyes. "Whatever dude. Just leave him. Let's get out of here." He started walking towards the far end of the park. Santana walked to Blaine's side, shooting me a glare before reaching down to grab his hand.

"Come on, Blainey. Leave the little gutter rat to his own devices. You can come back to my house with me and Brittany. We just finished setting my new room. We'll show you a good time," Santana said, seductively.

"No."

Santana snaked her other arm around his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder. She clearly wasn't giving up too easily.

"I'm sure if you gave me a chance, I could change your mind," she whispered in his ear.

"Well I'm not giving you that chance," Blaine said, shrugging her arm off and looking disgusted. "I don't know how many times I've made it clear to you that I'm not interested. I'll never be interested in hanging around with stuck-up little girls who think they're princesses because their daddies buy them nice expensive things. I don't play for your team anyway, so just stop! He moved closer to me and, this time, I didn't push him away. He placed a hand lightly on the small of my back and glared at Santana.

"I know you're just saying that, Blainey. I've seen you watching me before. And you're seriously going to help the gutter rat? Just look at him!" Her eyes narrowed in to slits as she looked at us.

"Actually, I'm not just saying that. I like boys. I've always liked boys, and any company would be better than yours."

Santana immediately rose to her feet and stomped away towards Noah, who had stopped to watch. He raised his eyebrows back at Blaine. "Dude, why do you care? He's just some stupid little homeless kid," he asked.

"And you're just an arrogant spoiled little rich boy who thinks he can do whatever he wants just because his dad owns some big-ass company. You're pathetic. All of you," Blaine shot back at them.

Noah's eyes narrowed. "That's it, dude. We're finished. You are the biggest buzz-kill around. You can just hang out with the other losers from now on. You can't hang with us anymore."

"As if I would want to," Blaine said, bitterly.

"Fine," spat Noah. "Let's go guys." I watched the four of them as they stalked across the park and disappeared from sight.

"Really, are you OK? It looked like they hit you pretty hard." His voice tore my gaze from where the others had vanished.

"I'm f-fine," I said, staring down at my hands. The seconds passed in silence until I began to shiver from sitting still so long in the cold. I felt him move next to me and a moment later, felt him wrap his jacket around my shoulders. I glanced up at him. "Thanks," I mumbled.

Blaine cupped my chin in his hand and tilted my face in to the light of a nearby streetlamp. "That's a nasty bruise you have on your face. I didn't see them hit you in the face."

"N-no," I stammered. "That's from something else." I blushed when I realized I was still crying silently, tears streaking my face. I hurriedly went to wipe them on the sleeve of my coat.

"You missed one," he said, quietly, brushing a stray tear away with his broad thumb.

"Thank you," I said, giving him a small watery smile. "You didn't need to start a fight with your friends because of me."

"They aren't my friends," said Blaine, a dark look passing over his face.

"Why were you with them then?" I asked.

He paused for a moment, looking as if he was wondering just what he should tell me. He took a deep breath and began to speak, his eyes cast towards the ground.

"My family is rich, just like those kid's families. I'm different from the other kids though. They flaunt it for all they can, but me? I just can't see what's so great about it. All they do is talk about what new car they have or the new vacation home their parents just bought. I don't want any of it. Sometimes I wish I could just leave, run away. Take my guitar and go play my music somewhere it might actually be appreciated." Blaine sighed, his eyes sad. "My parents think my music is a waste of my time. They're always talking about how they're gonna get me in to Harvard and I'm gonna be some big-shot lawyer like my dad, but that's not what I want. My parents have been the ones trying to get me to be friends with those other guys. They think that if I hang out with them and spend more time playing sports and being around girls that it will make me straight. I know my mom wants to set me up with Santana or her empty-headed little friend, Brittany, but they're just awful to be around. Santana never leaves me alone. It drives me crazy."

"You play the guitar?"

"Yeah. I like to sing too. I write music in my free time, but I never really get the chance to play it for anyone. My parents barely notice me, except when they need to act all proper for some important dinner guest. Sometimes I feel like I'm just a prop to them."

He stopped talking and glanced up at me. "Sorry I'm unloading all of this on you. I didn't mean to start babbling."

"Oh, it's fine." I said. I was fascinated by him. A beautiful rich boy was willing to help out a little nobody like me. I'd never imagined such a thing. And he was gay, like me. I had to admit, I was a little shocked. He didn't exactly scream gay, but I certainly wasn't complaining. I had never seen such beautiful eyes. I could stare in to them forever…..

He studied my face carefully. "Where did you get that bruise?"

I froze, thinking of earlier that evening when Dave had smacked me with the book. Blaine noticed my sudden tension and he scooted closer so that he was sitting right beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. I could feel the heat of his arm against them and I felt myself begin to relax.

"Has someone been hurting you? Someone else?" He asked, quietly. I gasped as hot tears stung my eyes once more. Blaine quickly wrapped both arms around me and pulled me tightly against him.

"Don't worry," he said, rubbing a hand soothingly across my back. "I'm going to help you."

"You can't," I whimpered, burying my face in his chest.

"Why not? You need help. You can't keep getting hurt like this." He sounded close to tears himself now.

I pulled my head up, trying to think of how I could answer him, and froze. I hadn't noticed the pale light that had been growing brighter over the last half-hour. Now the sun was peeking between the buildings, spreading a soft orange glow over everything. I had to find my way home before Dave realized I was missing!

"I have to go!" I said quickly, pulling myself out of Blaine's comforting arms and jumping to my feet.

"W-what? Why?" Blaine asked, quickly, also scrambling upright.

"It's morning! He'll be awake soon. I have to get back." I was mumbling to myself, hardly realizing what I was saying.

But Blaine heard me. He grabbed my arm, trying to keep me from walking away. I pulled away and started to hurry back in the general direction I had come from last night. I could hear his footsteps behind me.

"Wait!" He made a grab at my coat collar, and his fingers tangled in the chain of my necklace. I broke in to a run, frantic to make it back in time. I felt the clasp of my necklace snap and it disappeared from around my throat, but I didn't stop to go back and get it. I was running as fast as my legs could carry me, in what I hoped was the right direction, looking desperately around for a sign of anything familiar. I passed a wall covered with graffiti that I recognized from last night. I was going in the right direction. I kept running until, at long last, I saw the familiar building. I bolted towards the fire escape, climbing back to the window as quickly and quietly as possible. Once inside, I pulled the window shut again and sped to my kitchen corner, laying down and feigning sleep.

Not even five minutes later, I heard Dave groaning from the other room, clearly hung-over from the night before. The floorboards creaked as he stood up and moved towards the kitchen.

"Get up, fairy! Clean this place up! Don't you think about lazing around today! You've got work to do!"

Without another word, he shoved his way past me, knocking me in to the cupboard as he did, and strode out the door, banging it loudly behind him. Relief flooded though me. I had made it back and he never even knew I was gone! Maybe, he would leave the window unlocked again sometime and I could get out again…

My thoughts drifted back to Blaine as I started scrubbing the linoleum floor. My heart gave a painful twinge whenever I thought back to the look in his eyes when I had run from him. He had been so nice. He'd wanted to help me. I had to see him again, somehow. I'd find a way.

To my dismay, over the next couple of weeks, Dave made sure to keep everything locked, effectively keeping me in. With each passing day, I grew more and more depressed. I would never get out of here again and even if I did and somehow found him, he wouldn't remember me. It had only been one night and I had never even told him my name.

Exactly six weeks after my nighttime adventure, I was seated on the floor of the bathroom, scrubbing away, when I heard a loud knocking at the door. I heard Dave grunt, "Go away" from where he was lounging on the couch. The knocking persisted and I heard a cold clipped male voice speaking from the hallway.

"David Karofsky, this is the NYPD. Open the door."

I froze. The police? What were they doing here? I stayed perfectly still, listening to what was going on in the other room. I heard Dave grumble as he got up and opened the door.

"What do you want?" He slurred.

"Where's the boy, Karofsky?" The policeman asked.

"What boy?"

David Karofsky, you're under arrest for the abduction of Kurt Hummel. We've been looking for him for thirteen years and, with a bit of recent help, we were able to trace him to you. Search the apartment!" The policeman called to the room at large. "And get him outta here."

I pressed my ear against the door and I could hear Dave cursing at the officers as they led him from the apartment. Suddenly, the bathroom door opened and I looked up in to the face of the officer.

"Kurt?" He asked, gently.

I nodded slowly, staring at him. He crouched down beside me.

"It's OK now, Kurt. We're here to take you home."

I shook my head. "I don't have a home," I said.

"Of course you do," he said. "Your parents are waiting for us at the station."

"I don't have parents."

The officer sighed. "Kurt, that man stole you from your parents when you were three years old. He kidnapped you and hid you away so we couldn't find you. Your parents have never stopped looking for you and today you can finally go home."

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. My parents were alive? They were looking for me? That was impossible. I'd been here for as long as I could remember. I didn't have parents. I didn't have a home. I shook my head at him and leaned back down, continuing to scrub away at the floor.

I heard the policeman sigh. He reached over and tugged the scrubber out of my hands and made me look at him. "Kurt, I'm not lying to you. You have parents that love you and never gave up hope that they would find you one day. You can leave this place. You can go home."

I just stared at him for a moment until, slowly, the realization sunk in. I was getting out of here. I'd never have to see Dave again. I could go live with people who loved me and wanted me. I was going home. Tears of happiness sprung to my eyes as the officer held out his hand. I took it and he helped me to my feet, leading me from the apartment to the police cruiser waiting below.

The ride to the station seemed to take forever. I fidgeted in my seat, wondering what lay in store for me. The officer led me in to the station and I saw another officer speaking quietly to two others, who had their backs to me. The officer stopped talking when he saw me, staring over the couple's shoulders, causing them to turn.

I stared at the woman, shocked. I felt like I was looking at an older version of myself. She had the same shade of brown hair and the same blue-green eyes. Her eyes filled with tears and she took a few tentative steps towards me.

"Kurt? Kurt, sweetie? Do you know who I am?" She asked.

Her voice was so beautiful….and so familiar. Suddenly, I felt as if someone were playing a movie right in front of my eyes. The same woman was holding me, singing a soft sweet melody as I cried from a nightmare. She whispered soothing nothings between verses, assuring me that I was safe.

I pulled myself back to the present and stepped towards her.

"Hi, mom," I said.

Her tears were flowing freely now as she rushed towards me and pulled me in to her arms, my father right behind her. They both held me for a long time, until I finally spoke.

"But I don't understand. It's been so long, how did you find me now?" I asked.

My mother wiped her eyes and reached in to her pocket, pulling out my broken locket that I had lost that night.

"A boy brought this to the police a couple of weeks ago, saying that it belonged to a boy he had met in the park one night who he suspected was being abused. One of the officers recognized your baby picture from your file. The boy was able to give a description of you and told us he had tried to follow you when you ran off. He gave the officers the general area you had gone back to that morning. Eventually they were able to find David Karofsky, who was already in the database for kidnapping-"

"Excuse me, ma'am, but we need to have a few more words with you and your husband," an officer interrupted. "Your son can stay right there." My parents hugged me again and moved away.

Blaine. I could hardly breathe. He had saved me. He hadn't forgotten about me. The tears came before I could stop them and soon I was gasping for breath, trying to keep my emotions in check.

"Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you forever," a soft voice said behind me.

I whirled around, hardly daring to believe it. There he was, his warm hazel eyes shining and a smile tugging at his lips. I simply stared at him for a moment, before running to him and throwing my arms around his neck. He pulled me close, running a soothing hand down my back.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Well, I couldn't let you get away that easily now could I?" He asked, playfully. I pulled back with a quiet laugh. I looked up at him and felt my breath catch in my throat.

"Why did you bother?" I asked in a whisper. His smile vanished and he looked at me seriously, his eyes brimming with an emotion I couldn't place.

"I knew something was wrong, that someone was hurting you. I couldn't let anyone get away with that. I felt terrible for letting you leave in the first place. You should never have thought you had to go back. You should have stayed with me." His voice was thick and he paused for a moment, taking a shaky breath. "Anyway, I accidently snagged your locket and I found the picture inside. I knew that it might be a way to find you, so I brought it to the police."

I stared at him. I'd never known anyone could care so much about a person they didn't even know. But he did. He cared enough about me to try and find me. And he did find me. He saved me….

He cleared his throat, jolting me out of my thoughts. He took my hand and squeezed. "Besides, I would have done anything if it meant I could see you again." He stared at his feet, blushing to the roots of his curly hair.

I felt warmth spread to the very tips of my fingers and toes. I smiled to myself as I squeezed his hand back.

"Blaine-" He looked, smiling at the sound of his name falling from my lips. I pulled myself against him again, wrapping my arms around his neck and whispering in his ear.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

He didn't answer. He just held me close. We didn't need words.

"Kurt, honey, it's time to go." My parents were back, beckoning to me.

We broke apart, and he gently nudged me towards my family. I turned back to him. "Will I see you again?"

"Meet me at our park tomorrow at four. I'll be there." He said, smiling at me.

"Sounds like a plan," I said.

I started walking towards my parents, when his voice stopped me yet again.

"Maybe now you can start living happily ever after." He said, softly.

I glanced back at him as I moved towards the door, a small smile on my face.

"Yeah, maybe."

One Year Later…..

"Dad, I'm leaving!" I called over my shoulder as I pulled open the door of the apartment.

"Ok, buddy. Have fun! Be home by seven."

"Will do!" I yelled back as I ran out the door and down the stairs to the busy city street below.

I raced down the sidewalk, the sound of my pounding heart loud in my ears as I dodged around the groups of people. Running made me feel alive, but I slowed to walk as I neared my destination. I entered the beautiful park, scanning the many people there until I found him: My personal miracle.

He sat on a low wall, holding his guitar as he strummed away. I could see his lips moving, knowing that he was singing quietly as well. I snuck up behind him.

"Fancy seeing you here," I said, playfully.

Blaine twisted around and smiled that special smile I knew was just for me. He laid his guitar carefully on the ground before pulling me down next to him and winding his arms around me.

"It's been a few days. I've missed you," He said, quietly, reaching up to stroke my hair. I batted his hand away with a giggle. No one touched Kurt Hummel's hair.

He laughed and pulled me close. I sighed as I leaned in to him, just enjoying the closeness and thinking back on the past year. There had been a lot of changes to get used to, but now everything felt normal. My dark past was becoming a hazy memory as I focused on my future. A future I hoped to spend right here. My parents were amazing. They really were. They showered me with all the love and affection someone could ask for, but I was always happiest when I was with him.

Since our meeting in this very park the day after I went home with my parents, we were inseparable. I like to think that, by now, I knew him pretty well. He was that crazy boy that loved Disney, sang like an angel, had a strange addiction to coffee and climbing on furniture, and had the best puppy dog eyes I had ever seen. He was the boy that would stutter like an idiot when he was surprised or embarrassed and would go on a never ending rant when he was angry.

He was the boy that was everything to me.

"What are you thinking about?" His voice shook me from my thoughts and I smiled to myself.

"You," I said.

"Oh cool, I was thinking about me too."

I shoved him playfully. "Oh, hush. You're so narcissistic." I said, jokingly.

He pulled me back towards him. "But you love me anyway."

He pressed his lips gently against mine and I sighed in to the kiss, winding my arms around his neck and tangling my fingers in to his dark curls, pulling him closer to me.

He pulled away, looking at me expectantly with a huge grin on his face.

"Ok, fine! Yes, I do. Happy now?" I laughed.

"Exceptionally," He said, leaning in to kiss me again.

Happily ever after, indeed.

The End