No matter what Blaine does, he finds, it's never enough. From the time he's been a child, it's been a struggle. To measure up to Cooper, and then when Cooper moved out when Blaine was ten, their dad set his sights on Blaine.

He grew up playing sports he wasn't suited for. Baseball freaked him out and he was too small to play football without being crushed by the bigger players. When Blaine was a teenager, his dad tried to interest him in cars. It was okay for a while. Soon, though, it became obvious that no matter how well versed Blaine became in handing his dad the appropriate tools or identifying parts, there was inevitably something his dad would see that he didn't like.

One afternoon when Blaine was thirteen, he had dedicated an entire Saturday afternoon to doing stuff with his dad, and then excused himself. When his dad found him on his bedroom computer watching the 10th Anniversary performance of Les Miserables, his dad had freaked out.

"What the hell are you doing?" he had exclaimed.

"Nothing," Blaine insisted, clicking away from the screen. He hadn't moved fast enough though, because his dad still could hear Javert singing.

"What are you doing sitting alone in your room anyway?" he exclaimed. "Why don't you go outside?"

"I was outside all day-" Blaine remembers protesting.

"Don't get smart with me! Did you finish your homework?"

"I didn't have any," Blaine had said shyly. "It's mid-quarters."

"Did you cut the grass?" his dad demanded.

"You said I didn't have to, because it's so hot today…"

"For God's sake, Blaine! Look at me when you talk to me!"

And Blaine had snapped. He glared at his father, and stood up fast. "What do you want from me?" he had demanded, sure that his dad was about to ground him for a month for talking back.

Instead, his dad had smiled. "That is exactly what I want. I want a 13-year-old son who acts like a 13-year-old son! Not one who hides in his room and watches show tunes!"

So, for a while, Blaine tried to do everything his dad wanted. He tried to anticipate his every request. He offered to work on the car. To lift weights. To do anything his dad might want him to do.

Then, he was a freshman. Then, there was this boy. They couldn't 'go out' because they'd have been singled out so fast by their peers and of course Blaine's father would never have allowed it. But, the boy was a little older. A little more experienced. And Blaine was feeling brave, so he asked him out to the Sadie Hawkins dance.

It had been fun - and terrifying - sneaking the tuxedo that he only wore to weddings out of the house in his backpack the morning of the dance. Blaine's heart had pounded with anticipation all day long. It seemed like forever until it was time. The upperclassman - to even speak his name now is too painful - had picked Blaine up. They had a great time.

Then, it was after. Then, three guys came - bigger and stronger than Blaine and his date - and beat them senseless. He remembers tasting fear and blood in his mouth. He remembers begging for them to stop. He remembers the feeling of dress shoes connecting with his ribs. How an ambulance came and took them away. How Blaine's dad had shown up - and upon seeing him getting his ribs taped and his face stitched - scoffed and told him to 'man up.' How, even today, he has a deep fear of formal dances because of walking outside afterward.

Blaine had struggled until his normally quiet mother had intervened and insisted that Blaine be allowed to transfer to Dalton Academy. His dad rarely spoke to him. He had spent the summer months convalescing from his injuries and felt scared beyond belief to be around anyone he didn't completely trust.

He had walked through the doors in September of 2010 not confident in the least about this school's zero tolerance policy. Then, his phone buzzed on his hip. He glanced at the screen and did a double take. His mom had apparently just discovered texting because she had sent him a message. A single word, really.

So, when Kurt shows up the following year, it seems only right to pass along the word that got him through. He's sitting in English Lit, and hides his phone beneath the desk, carefully typing the single word and sending the message before he can think better of it.

He thinks of everything he has faced and overcome. How much he has grown and changed. How his father has remained largely the same. How his mother is his only real support.

Blaine breathes in. Then out.

Courage, he tells himself.

The End.