AN: Hi! Just before I start this I want to let you know some things...this is going to be AU. Kurt's dad is NOT Burt in this. Though he may make an appearance later...Blaine's going to be a jerk for a while, just a heads up. I got the title from the song by Mumford and Sons of the same name. Don't own it. Hope you enjoy!

Blaine twirled his spaghetti around his fork uninterestedly as his parents discussed the arrival of yet another foster kid. He couldn't believe they were going through this again; were his parents stupid? No matter how many bad experiences they had his mother insisted they continue fostering, and his father was all for anything that made his wife happy.

But what about his own kids? Sometimes Blaine thought his parents got so caught up in trying to fix other people that they forgot about him and Coop. Coop never seemed to mind, he always clicked with the troubled youths that took up residence in their home. Blaine still hadn't forgiven him for helping that one kid steal his PlayStation 2 and sell it secondhand for beer money. He scowled at the thought.

"Mom, did you get that letter from Mr. Shuster about sectionals?" Blaine asked, trying to steer the conversation to something new. His parents continued conversing as though they didn't hear him. Cooper was texting furiously and unaware of what was going on at the table. "Hellooo, earth to mom, did you hear me?" Blaine's mother glanced at him and held up a finger.

"One second honey."

Blaine sighed loudly but continued eating. He did want to know if she had received the letter, the time for sectionals had changed and instead of being at 2 in the afternoon performances were starting at noon.

"Blaine, sweety, have you gotten your room all ready?" His mom's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"Yes mother," Blaine replied, rolling his eyes. If getting his room ready meant checking to see if there were sheets on his other twin bed then yes, it was completely ready. "I still don't see why the kid can't share a room with Coop, for a change."

Mrs. Anderson pursed her lips. "You know Cooper is in college now and needs his own space. Plus Kurt is only a year younger than you. You two could be friends."

Blaine snorted at the thought. Yeah, right. Blaine had always held resentment for the kids that came into his home and got all the attention that he should have been receiving. It would be nice for his parents to care about how he was doing for a change. Sure, it was selfish, but it was the truth. Plus Blaine didn't see the point in getting close to someone when he knew they would be leaving within the year, and usually in just a few months.

"Blainers is getting a new roommate!" Cooper said from across the table, his mouth full of spaghetti.

"Shut up Coop."

"Blaine, watch your language," his father reprimanded.

"What? All I said was shut up, it's not like I said 'fuck you,' or something."

"Blaine!" his mother gasped. Cooper chuckled and his father released a weary sigh.

"I don't know where this attitude is coming from, Blaine, but I'm going to have to ask you to go to your room until you can keep it under control."

"Fine," Blaine said, pushing back his chair and leaving the room. Part of him knew he was being stupid and wanted to go back and apologize and finish eating dinner, but his stubbornness won out and he found himself laying on his bed and listening to music, tapping his fingers on the bedspread to the beat.

This time tomorrow there would be some other boy in here with him. Once again, he would be sharing his room with a stranger and he would be expected to do it graciously. Well, screw that. For once he was done being the perfect host and if his parents weren't going to give him any attention, he was going to do something to make them notice.

Kurt kept his eyes glued out the window as they rode, trying to hide his nerves as the houses flew by on either side. They were in a nice neighborhood, the houses conservatively sized but all with immaculate yards.

He gulped as his social worker, a small and fragile looking lady named Martha Sandlin, put on her blinker and turned into the driveway of a medium sized brick house on the right.

"Are you listening to me, Kurt?" She asked. Kurt shook his head and refocused his gaze onto her.

"Yes ma'am, sorry I zoned out for a second."

"It's quite alright. I was just reminding you that this family has had nothing but positive reports from kids that have stayed here. You don't have anything to worry about," her voice and words were soothing, but Kurt couldn't control his pounding heart and clammy hands. He rubbed them on his jeans.

"Okay," he whispered. After he had been removed from his father's care the year before, Kurt had been bounced between group homes for a few months before being placed semi-permanently in a home just outside of Lima, Ohio. There had been four other kids there, and though they all seemed outraged at their treatment there, Kurt didn't think it was anything out of the ordinary. The place had been shut down after a routine stop by Kurt's social worker, Ms. Martha. Kurt spent a few nights in the hospital and as luck would have it the day of his discharge Ms. Martha had arrived with the news that there was an opening with a local family.

According to what Ms. Martha had told him, the family had two sons. And if that didn't make Kurt nervous enough, one of them was his own age and one was three years older but still living at home and attending a local college. Kurt jumped as the car was placed in park and his hands reached for his seatbelt. He froze when Ms. Martha leaned over and placed one of her hands on his.

"I want to talk to you for a second, Kurt."

He forced his eyes to meet the older woman's. "Alright."

"I want to make sure you know that you can call me if you need anything. You know that, right?" she said, seeming pained.

"Yes, ma'am."

"I mean it Kurt. How your father treated you," Kurt flinched at the mention, "and how that man treated you. That wasn't right. It wasn't okay. Do you understand that?"

Kurt's eyes were wide and his mind was spinning, because why wasn't that okay? What wasn't right about it? But he forced himself to nod anyway.

Ms. Martha sighed. "I'm not sure if you do, Kurt. But I sincerely hope these people will be able to help you see that. Are you ready?"

Kurt nodded once more and hesitantly unbuckled himself and reached for the handle to let himself out of the car. It was awkward with his left arm in a cast and he tried not to jar his ribs as he stepped out of the car. Ms. Martha followed him and together they made their way up the walkway, Kurt's hand clenching his battered black backpack so hard that his knuckles were white. He kept his eyes glued to the ground as Ms. Martha reached up to ring the bell.