Danielle

If there was one person Blaine never expected to see standing at his door, it was his mother.

It was probably a strange situation for a boy his age. Most teenage boys would resent motherly intrusion, but they would expect it. Maybe even want it a little bit, because it meant that she still cared about what he was doing and wanted to see his face.

Blaine Anderson hadn't seen his mother in over two years.

Her merry face was more deeply lined than it had been two years ago. Her dark eyes – his eyes – were sad. Her once-lustrous dark brown hair lay limp and unkempt, swinging around her chin like a brittle curtain. She just looked so tired.

Blaine knew it couldn't be easy, being married to his father. Lee Anderson was a huge businessman who had recently begun dabbling in politics, and so his family naturally had to keep up perfect appearances. And those perfect appearances did not, under any circumstances, involve having a gay son.

When Blaine had come out more than two years ago and Lee Anderson had thrown him out of the house, his mother had not said anything. Yes, she cried – silently, tears streaming down her pretty round face, her shoulders shaking ferociously – but Lee ignored his wife and Blaine, in a fit of pettiness, ignored her too. He didn't hug her goodbye, or promise to keep in touch, or anything. He went upstairs, packed a duffel bag and got the hell out of that house. He managed to access some of his funds before his father shut down his account, and used the money to buy a run-down apartment at the outskirts of Lima(somehow, the perpetually drunk landlord didn't give a shit about selling an apartment to a kid). He could have made do with a motel room – but Blaine knew that this was no temporary decision. This was reality, and it was best to start assembling a new life for himself as soon as possible.

His friends from school were understanding. Most of them already knew that he was gay, and it didn't bother them. They helped him sneak into classes, even after Blaine's father had visited the school and very publically withdrawn Blaine's name from enrolment. Blaine often laughed with his buddies about how they were fooling the dopey public school teachers, but he chuckled along instinctively instead of appreciatively. Blaine Anderson was fifteen when he first started living by himself, and he'd never turned back from then.

He'd built himself a new life, albeit a much less glossy one than before. He'd been forced to stop sneaking onto school property when the school board had threatened to arrest him for trespassing. His friends occasionally brought him photocopied class notes or the odd extra textbook, but Blaine understood that they had their own lives to deal with. He was just glad that they still came to visit him. He couldn't exactly play the role of dapper host anymore, because his small apartment barely fit five people, but it was enjoyable to just hang around with them and remember a time when he'd been happy.

He ended up getting a job at the Lima Bean, a coffee shop nearby. The shop manager had been understanding of his situation(although Blaine hadn't told him why he'd been forced out of his home – he let the manager believe that he was an orphan with no other relatives), but Blaine was only permitted to work part-time by law. But the manager or one of the other employees often provided him with small food hampers with coffee and pastries, so Blaine couldn't complain. At least he was still alive.

And then he met a boy at the coffee shop, and they got talking, and Blaine realized how much he missed being a normal teenager. Kurt attended William McKinley High School, on almost the other side of town from Blaine's school, so they hadn't ever interacted before. But Blaine found himself entranced by the most mundane of Kurt's stories – how he was bored to tears of French class because they taught nothing new, how Rachel Berry of the Glee club was just such a stuck up little diva, and how the cafeteria served the most ridiculous amount of fried food. Blaine began looking out for Kurt every morning, and relished their chats. And so, his life regained some sense of normalcy.

Until Vanessa Anderson appeared on his doorstep and shattered the cozy little life he'd made for himself.

Blaine swallowed and moved aside fractionally, allowing his mother to squeeze through and into his apartment. It was modestly furnished, with just a small couch and a couple of chairs, as well as the futon he slept on. Blaine made sure to keep his surroundings scrupulously clean, so that was never a problem – but the sheer weariness of the apartment often made people uncomfortable. His mother, however, went ahead and seated herself on one of the chairs, her back ramrod-straight and her dark eyes glistening far too brightly. Blaine exhaled sharply and ran one hand through his messy curls as he took a seat on the other chair.

Neither of them said anything at first, the silence heavy and unnatural. Then –

"How have you been, darling?" Blaine's head shot up at his mother's affectionate nickname as well as the tremor in her voice. He stared at her blankly, blood pounding through his ears as he wondered why on earth she'd done that.

"I-I'm fine." It was an inadequate response, he knew, but he didn't feel like offering up any more information. His mother could have found him if she'd wanted to – if she'd really tried. She'd found him now, hadn't she? Two years too late, Blaine thought in a rare moment of bitterness.

Vanessa Anderson's lower lip trembled, and Blaine was suddenly struck by how fragile his mother was – had always been, really. She had always been meek and docile and Blaine had learned his people-pleasing from her – but unlike his mother, Blaine stuck by the things he believed in. If his son had been thrown out of the house for any reason at all, Blaine wouldn't have stood for it. He squeezed his eyes shut as his throat closed over – he'd always known his father's weaknesses, how he was too quick to anger and too stubborn to listen to reason and too fucking judgmental. But it was his first time assessing his mother's weaker traits, and it broke his heart. This trembling woman in front of him didn't resemble the bright-eyed, laughing mother he'd known. She was a stranger.

"You have a sister," his mother finally spoke, and Blaine froze. No further preamble, no asking how the last two years had been treating him, no apologies. Just, a bombshell.

"I – what?" His voice cracked in disbelief. "You… I… a sister?"

His mother nodded, twisting her hands together in her lap. "Her name is Danielle. We call her Dani. She's a year old today."

A year old.

"And why are you telling me this?" Blaine finally asked the most pressing question, raising his eyes to gaze directly at his mother and ignoring the way his limbs were shaking. "Why did you come all the way here to tell me I have a baby sister, a year later? What was the need, mother? One year could have easily been one hundred."

Vanessa Anderson gasped as tears filled her eyes. "I w-wanted to tell you!" she whispered, sucking in breath as she began to sob. "I r-really did, but your f-father… do you have any idea how d-difficult it was for me to c-come here?"

"No harder than it's been for me to live here, I'm sure." There was no rancor in Blaine's tone, but his mother flinched as if she'd been stung. She lowered his eyes from her son's searching stare and tugged at the hem of her cardigan.

"I just wanted you to know," she murmured, almost inaudible. But Blaine had always had a knack of listening very well, and so still managed to catch her words. "I was getting the party celebrations ready when I realized how much I missed you, how much it would mean to me if you were there. I… I want you to be a part of her life."

Blaine let out a choked sound. "How?" he asked, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "I'm not your son anymore, remember?"

His mother's shoulders slumped forward, but she looked up and gazed at him, her eyes surprisingly free of tears.

"You never stopped being my son," she whispered, reaching out to grasp his knee. "Never. Don't ever think that, Blaine."

Blaine's eyes stung fiercely as he ducked his head and moved his legs away, out of his mother's reach. "I can't do this," he muttered, feeling incredibly shaky. "I can't. Can't you see I've set up a life for myself, that I can't come home anymore? I'm not the same person I was then. I was when I came out – I was the exact same person two seconds before saying it as I was two seconds before, but I'm not now. I'm not now, mamma."

Vanessa rose from her seat and came to kneel in front of her son. "You're so strong," she murmured, placing her hands on his. "So, so strong, darling. So much stronger than I can ever hope to be. But I can try, baby. Just come home. Please."

And just like that, the dam broke and the tears began dripping down Blaine's face.

"I want to see her," he whispered, his chest heaving as he fought to take in breath through his sobs. "Please mamma, I want to see her."

Vanessa Anderson squeezed his hands and reached up to wipe at his wet face.

"I know, baby. We'll work this out."