Author's Note:

Hello all my readers of Promises Broken I am back! And so is my wonderful beta MuseInMe3.

So just to explain a little bit, the Promises Broken Vignettes are both prequels and sequels for some of the smaller characters of the story. Each chapter will focus on a different character, and they will build on one another to tell the whole story. I hope it makes sense. I hope you enjoy. And if you have requests I'm happy to hear, though I do have a plan in mind.

And so, we begin with Nicholas…

Nicholas had always known. He remembered in kindergarten watching baseball with his dad, unable to take his eyes off of Nomar Garciaparra. The way the uniform hugged the player's muscled form made his nerves tingle inside him and his heart beat wildly in his chest. Nomar's strength and agility at sending the ball soaring high into left field made him giddy with excitement. But Nicholas was most especially drawn to his fielding. The grace of the throw, the ease of the catch, scooping the ball from the field in one smooth and slick motion. Nomar looked like a dancer on the baseball diamond to him and Nicholas was certain about who he was.

It didn't matter what anyone said, or what anyone else thought. Nicholas was a shortstop. Or at least he would be, someday.

He begged his father to let him start tee ball that summer and it was soon apparent to anyone who paid attention that Nicholas was gifted. He was moved to the Little League team in first grade and travel in third. Nicholas was the youngest starting short stop to lead Covington, Ohio to the playoffs. Baseball was everything that was right about his world.

Everything else was hard for him. Learning didn't come easily. The words didn't always form so clearly in his mind when he read. Spelling them back was a huge jumble of confusion. He did well in math and science, but nothing less than perfection was tolerated by his father and all too frequently his right to play baseball was threatened if his grades didn't improve. So he spent hours in his room practicing over and over again the spelling words of the week and trying so hard to read the books he was made to read. His parents were no help, they merely demanded more.

They weren't warm. They didn't hug him. He thought they loved him, if love meant making sure he was fed and had clothes and did well in school. He was loved if it meant being driven to baseball games and cheered on when he was doing well. But it was cold and distant. There was little light in their eyes, only a small pat on the back for his accomplishments and harsh words for his failures. He just didn't quite seem to understand how to get out of them the love he so desperately wanted but obviously didn't deserve.

Friendship was also a struggle for him. It wasn't that he didn't have friends. His teammates were his best friends but even at school he was liked by everyone. Small for his age but athletic, cute and cuddly, the boys appreciated his sense of fair play and the girls, well, they just appreciated a boy who was sweet and kind and enjoyed being around them. But despite his popularity, Nicholas felt uncomfortable in his skin, and though he smiled on the outside, it was all an act, a desperate attempt to feel like he belonged in a world that didn't really make sense.

There wasn't a single moment when the realization that he was gay hit him over the head like a light bulb suddenly growing bright. It was far more gradual than that. A burgeoning and sometimes overwhelming sense of being different; different than his friends, different than the society to which he was exposed, and far different from anything his parents would even begin to accept.

His father was a Boy Scout leader, baseball coach and, along with his mother, a staunch activist in the Ohio Tea Party. They had picketed against gay rights since Nicholas was small, using anti-gay slurs like they were the eloquent musings of Shakespeare. And as Nicholas slowly came to realize it was the boys' beautiful bodies he was dreaming of on the warm nights of summer his twelfth year, the piece of his heart where he knew his parents love lay began to cower and shrivel in fear and sadness.

He could never be perfect to them.

His first suicide attempt came at 12 ½. Lying in his hospital bed after his stomach had been pumped, the doctors asked him why. He hadn't known enough then to keep silent, or perhaps the effects of the drugs he had forced into his system had dulled his sense of self-preservation. Whatever the reason, his secret was out and there was no way to stuff it back in.

He was pulled from baseball, taking away the only place where he had ever felt that he truly belonged. It was too dangerous to allow someone like him in the locker room with a group of young boys, never mind that they were the same age and had been friends and teammates for seven years. Suddenly in his father's mind he was a predator, searching for his prey, never caring that kissing alone absolutely terrified Nicholas.

His second suicide attempt came three months before his 14th birthday. He didn't try to hide it. He thought his parents would simply leave him to die, they seemed to hate him so much. They called 911 though they didn't follow him to the hospital. They didn't visit. They didn't want him. Nicholas hadn't managed to take his life but he escaped the vile prison of fear and resentment that had plagued him since his last attempt and that was truly all he really wanted. He learned that desperate times called for desperate measures. Whatever happened from there on out couldn't possibly be worse than what he had survived already. The crushing hatred and rejection from one's own parents was as bad as it gets. He could handle anything else the world wanted to throw at him.

Sidney House was a dream.

It had only been two months since Blaine had gone home, but Easter could not have come fast enough for Nicholas. He was doing well enough at Sidney House but he missed Blaine terribly. There were days he was fine, playing the piano he'd left behind and trying to sound the notes in some way that would make music even half as good as Blaine could. Tyler tried to help as best he could, but he didn't have the patience Blaine had had when he was teaching Nicholas to play.

But there were bad days too where he cried himself to sleep; days when he had to visit with his parents or go to foster care reviews, or couldn't get signatures for an out of state field trip in time to be able to go. There were times that he was insanely jealous that John Anderson had cared enough to work, to change, to make things better so Blaine could go home. And there were days he was angry that Blaine had chosen to go. He knew it was all just his own loneliness. He'd stare over at Blaine's bed just to catch a glimpse of the man he'd grown to love despite every better judgment, but he always found someone else instead. He wondered when it would stop breaking his heart.

Nicholas missed Blaine not just for the golden honey eyes that glowed with affection every time Blaine saw him. No, he missed the warmth of his comforting hugs, the wisdom of his words, and the intensity with which he listened to everything Nicholas had to say. His crush was fleeting, he'd grow out of it with time and experience. But Blaine would always be a brother to him, even if they were never to meet again.

Blaine and his father were still not approved to transport him so Mr. Hummel came to pick him up on Easter morning.

"Thanks for coming Mr. Hummel," Nicholas said earnestly as he buckled himself into the front seat.

"Thank you isn't necessary Nicholas," Burt assured him starting the car. "And call me Burt." Nicholas smiled shyly and stared out the window. Burt took a hard glance out of the corner of his eye as he started out of the neighborhood and headed toward the highway. "So Blaine never mentioned why you weren't going home for Easter, he just asked to invite you cause you had no place to go."

Nicholas frowned and lowered his head. "There's no one in my family that wants me," he shrugged, picking at his jeans. "Visits with my parents are supervised monthly, and they don't tend to go particularly well anyway. That's what happens when your goal's changed to adoption."

"Well you always have a place at our table," Burt said without missing a beat. "Kurt and Blaine would kill me if I didn't set a plate for you. They were mad enough that Sebastian went with Cass to his parents' house instead of coming over."

Nicholas chuckled to himself. He was out of the loop, the older boys didn't include him in texts or anything, but he knew enough about Cass and Sebastian to understand why they'd go there. Cass got away with anything. There would be no limits like there were sure to be at the Hudmels. And it seemed pretty certain that Sebastian and Cass' parents would get along famously. "So it's just us tonight?" he asked a bit nervously.

"Yup," Burt answered. "Finn, Carole and Kurt are home, Blaine and his Dad are on their way, and that's it. A nice and easy crowd," he assured the jittery teen.

"Good," Nicholas said quietly staring out the window. He didn't like crowds or new people, but he would deal with whatever he had to. Seeing Blaine again was worth anything.

They arrived to find Blaine and his Dad in the living room giving space to Finn and Carol, who were arguing loudly in the kitchen. Burt took Nicholas' coat and hung it up in the closet. "What's all the yelling about?" he asked somewhat nonchalantly.

"Finn decided it would be a great time to announce that he's joining the army after graduation and Carole is voicing her objection," Blaine smirked.

"And Kurt?" Burt asked with a concerned eyebrow raise.

"Mediating?" Blaine answered without certainty. "Or just enjoying the show. One or the other," he shrugged.

Burt sighed, shook Mr. Anderson's hand hello and went boldly into the fray. John followed, but Blaine stayed behind, his eye focused on Nicholas, hanging back by the door, his face a vision of terror.

Nicholas had started trembling the moment he'd heard the raised voices and Blaine cursed himself for not recognizing the danger the minute the boy had walked in the door. "Hey, it's okay, don't be scared. Come here," he soothed as he drew nearer and reached out, wrapping Nicholas protectively in his arms. Nicholas fell into them, the raised voices emanating from the other room still keeping him on edge. Blaine kissed his head tenderly and spoke with care. "It's not like home, I promise. It's just a fight and it'll blow over by dinner. That's what makes them amazing." He'd thought to bring him inside the kitchen so he could see it for himself but Blaine could tell he wasn't ready. He reached for the front door and opened it instead. "Come on, let's go outside a minute."

Nicholas did as he was told, Blaine following and closing the door behind them. The moment Nicholas stepped onto the porch the breeze hit him and cooled the heat in his body that had been building. "I'm sorry," he whimpered.

"No, hey don't do that," Blaine said strongly, grasping him firmly by the shoulders. "I should have known it would trigger you. You don't know them like I do, you don't know it's okay." Nicholas looked up into warm hazel eyes that reassured him and made him feel safe for the first time in weeks. He was once again embraced and as his panic ebbed, he laughed with soft embarrassment. Blaine rubbed his arms and smiled. "That sounds a little better. You ready to go back in?"

Nicholas took a deep breath and nodded, taking Blaine's outstretched hand. Calm voices reached their ears before they walked into the kitchen to see Finn, Carole and Burt sitting at the table. Kurt and Mr. Anderson stood back against the counter listening quietly.

"Your father was a good man, Finn." Carole held his hand, tears trickling down her face. "It was just too much for him and the drugs took the pain away and I don't want to see you end up the same way. The Army doesn't take care of their soldiers once they get home. They didn't then and they don't now."

Finn pursed his lips, trying to absorb the truth about his father and reconcile it in his mind with the hero he had grown up believing him to be. "Then I can do it better," he decided, determined to do what his father couldn't. "Maybe I can change the way it works, maybe I can change the Hudson legacy. I need to do this Mom. Now for him as much as me."

Carole wiped her tears and shook her head with pride. "You are the bravest man I know, and I am so proud to call you my son," she said. They both stood, needing more than just a hand, needing a hug just like when Finn was young.

Only this time Burt joined in, holding his wife and stepson in his arms. "I love you guys so much," he choked and looked up for Kurt, beckoning him over. "Come on son, you're part of this family too."

"I stayed out of the argument though," Kurt quipped as he joined his family in a group hug.

"A very smart choice," Burt commended him.

Nicholas watched the scene, his jaw nearly dropped with amazement. There was never an argument in his home that hadn't ended with him wishing himself invisible, or worse. They certainly never ended in hugs. Love like this was unheard of to him and he had no idea what to make of it.

"Come on the rest of you, you're family too," Burt yelled over to his guests and Blaine and his Dad laughed as they joined the circle, leaving Nicholas standing back by himself. Burt watched him carefully for a moment, then walked over to him. "I meant you too," he nudged gently with a twinkle in his eyes. "We don't bite."

Nicholas looked down and shuffled his feet. "It's just…I never…" He couldn't find the words to say that he had never been held like that by anyone other than Blaine for as long as he could remember and he didn't know how to do it right. He didn't know how to say that he'd longed his entire life for the relationship with his parents that he'd just witnessed but had no idea how to capture it. He didn't have any way to explain that he so desperately wanted to belong somewhere, to someone, but never had. But it didn't matter that he couldn't say any of those things because Burt understood it anyway.

He gathered Nicholas in his arms and held him tight, like he used to for Kurt when he'd looked just as broken as this kid did now. And Burt's heart broke for him as it had for Kurt because he knew Nicholas couldn't feel the love he poured into it like Kurt had. But he brought him over to the rest of the family and held him tightly while Blaine threw an arm around him as well and slowly but surely Nicholas relaxed under the spell of love.

By the end of the night Nicholas was smiling and laughing and feeling like he never wanted to leave. Burt would take him back to Sidney House in the morning but he curled up into the guest room bed that night grinning ear to ear and dreaming, just for a moment, that he was as much a part of this family as Blaine was. He knew how impossible that was, but it didn't stop him from staring out the window at the moonlight shining down and searching for the brightest star. Wishes may not come true, he thought, but it didn't really hurt to try.

His heart pounded with fear behind the bleachers at Sidney High School. School was nearly out for the year and Nicholas was growing tired of waiting. He knew Dylan would think he was crazy. Starting a relationship with a roommate was the biggest risk anyone could take at Sidney. Even Sebastian and Cass had been smart enough to wait until they were truly, madly and irrevocably in love with one another and even then they'd had the sense to wait until Cass had moved out. But maybe Nicholas didn't have the fear of being kicked out of the house that he should have had.

After all, Sidney House wasn't home anymore, if it ever truly had been. It was a waypoint, a port in the storm, a holding place where he stayed while OFC found him an adoptive home. A family who would love him forever. Or at least for a little while. The Hummels had made him think that maybe, just maybe, there was someone out there who might be able to love him enough to want him to be their son. Just because his parents hadn't wanted that after he'd come out didn't mean no one else in the world would. But sitting at Sidney House wasn't going to get him anywhere.

So what did he truly have to lose?

"Hey, what's all the secrecy about?" Dylan asked, walking up behind Nicholas with a quirked eyebrow.

Nicholas turned, smiling at the boy 6 inches taller and a few months older. They'd become close since Blaine left, both needing a friend and confidante. The new kids who replaced Sebastian and Blaine were both older and had naturally been drawn to one another, arriving the same day. Dylan had needed someone and Nicholas was there. Now Nicholas needed him in return.

"I want to kiss you," Nicholas said, his voice steady and remotely business like. He squinted at Dylan, the bright sun falling on them in stripes as he stood beneath the bleachers, waiting for an answer.

"What? Are you crazy?" Dylan answered with shock evident. "We'll get kicked out of Sidney House if we get caught!"

"We won't get caught," Nicholas said softly, his whole demeanor the epitome of calm. "And if we do I'll take the fall completely, I promise."

Dylan's forehead wrinkled with confusion as he tried to figure out exactly what had come over his friend. Then he realized. "This is about Blaine," he said with a sigh. "You're trying to get over him?"

"No!" Nicholas protested, his cool exterior breaking for the first time. "It's not about Blaine, I promise…not really," he finished, his confidence wavering.

"Then what?" Dylan asked, sarcasm heavy in his voice. "You want out?" Nicholas' eyes blinked with panic and Dylan understood. "You do want out."

Nicholas lowered his head, caught. "I don't want to be in a group home anymore, Dylan. I want a real home. A real family," he confessed. "But right now I'm at the bottom of the stack. No one is going to look until they have to and I'm going to age out of the system like Cass and Sebastian and have no one."

"Why do it here then?" Dylan wondered, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Why not do it right in the middle of Sidney House where we're sure to get caught?"

Nicholas shuffled his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets, looking away in embarrassment. "I've never actually kissed anyone before," he admitted quietly. "I figured no matter what the reason, at least the first time should be special."

Dylan looked at him again and rubbed his neck with doubt. "I don't know."

"You don't want to kiss me?" Nicholas frowned.

Dylan sighed and grabbed his friend's hand. "Of course I want to kiss you. Some days it's all I can do to keep my hands off of you."

"Then please," Nicholas begged, his eyes wide with hope.

Dylan hesitated. He didn't want to be used. He didn't want to kiss Nicholas for nothing other than a ticket out. But he wanted to help his friend and he very much wanted to kiss him. "You really think this is the only way?"

"I learned long ago that the world doesn't change unless you make it change."

Dylan held his strong determined gaze for a minute, wondering what secrets lay behind those smoky eyes to make him know such things at such a young age. He had no answers but he reckoned Nicholas was right. "Okay," he whispered his agreement and he closed his eyes and waited.

Soft lips pressed against Dylan's, just for a moment before fleeing, but it was enough to set his heart racing and his skin aching for more. He opened his eyes to see Nicholas, already breathing hard just from the power of that one kiss. Nicholas stared back in wonder. He'd known the kiss would change everything around him, but he'd never imagined that it would go so far as to change him.

"Can I kiss you again?" Nicholas asked quickly and Dylan nodded eagerly in reply.

They moved closer to one another, this time meeting in the middle and falling into each other's embrace. Their lips grazed softly, tentatively with the care and trepidation of a true first kiss. Electricity raced through Nicholas' skin, not merely because it was Dylan he was kissing because in truth he hadn't really thought of his friend that way before. No, his body shivered with the feel of Dylan's tongue lightly grazing his lips because he was kissing a boy for the first time in his life and the heavens hadn't opened up to rain down fire and brimstone. He laughed suddenly at the image, giggling into Dylan's cheek and his friend pulled away.

"Was it that bad?" Dylan asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement but frowning with concern.

Nicholas giggled even louder, grabbing his backpack with one hand and linking his and Dylan's fingers in the other. "It wasn't even close to bad," he reassured his friend, leading him off of the fields to walk back to the house. "Now let's go do it where someone can see us."

Nicholas sat on the bench in Xavien's office, swinging his feet with nervous energy. His bags sat packed by the door. It had been a week since he and Dylan had been caught making out in the bedroom after they hadn't shown up for breakfast. It had gone further than either boy had planned, but there was just something that felt so incredibly good about being close to one another, feeling the other's body react with such intensity to things as simple as a kiss. It was beyond anything Nicholas had ever imagined it to be and though he knew he should have been, he really wasn't sorry at all with the choice he had made.

Xavien was keenly aware of this. He'd separated the boys, moving Nicholas into the other bedroom, while restricting both of them for a week. And he got on the phone with Nicholas' social worker. The boy's motives were obvious with one conversation, but Xavien hadn't been surprised. They'd all seen the pressure building in Nicholas ever since his trip to the Hudmels. They'd heard phrases dropped here and there in groups and sessions. Nicholas didn't feel he'd ever get a family like that. He couldn't believe a father or mother would ever love him in that way. Whenever they talked about forever and permanency Nicholas always went back to the Hudmels and how he didn't really deserve a family like that. But in all the talk was the hidden message – he knew he was worth it and he was angry no one was helping him find it. He'd started acting out, talking back, threatening to run because at least on the streets he would be in charge of his own destiny. Xavien checked his phone every night to see if he was in touch with Sebastian. He worried Nicholas would find his way into The Life and once he did he would never find his way out. But when he called Seb, he denied hearing from Nicholas and agreed to keep an ear out at his old haunts. When he was told that the boys were found rutting against one another in Dylan's bed, Xavien actually started laughing with relief. Nicholas was a clever boy for sure.

He called OFC and told them Nicholas would have to be moved within the week. He advocated for the boy that now was the perfect time to find a pre-adoptive home. He was told that they'd been recruiting but no one was interested in taking in a 15 year old boy who was gay. Xavien shook his head and snapped at the worker.

"How about you stop looking in your files and start looking in his."

Nicholas' eyes had been on his hands folded anxiously in his lap, but now he chanced a glance up at Xavien. The sometimes imposing man looked down at him sternly. "Are you mad at me?" Nicholas asked quietly. It was the first time he'd really wondered.

Xavien sat in his chair and rolled it close to him. "No," he said with certainty. "I worry about you though. The extremes you're still willing to go through to get your needs met. You know I was worried you'd end up on the same path as Sebastian?"

Nicholas lowered his head and breathed out a sigh. "I thought about it," he admitted with a whisper. "I needed to get out of here. But I hadn't even kissed anyone before. The idea of doing what Seb did, with total strangers…it was scarier than trying to kill myself."

"Did you consider that?" Xavien asked gently.

"No," he said and looked up, his eyes squinting. "Whenever I thought about it my mind went to Blaine and…" he paused, looking away. How did he put into words everything Blaine made him feel? "I knew that someone would care if I died. It wasn't like it was before."

"There are a lot of people would care if you died, Nicholas," Xavien insisted. His eyes were drawn to movement in the doorway and Xavien smiled. "Here's one now."

Nicholas turned. Burt stood there, hands in his pockets, looking down at the boy and Xavien. "Blaine and Kurt are just saying hi to the other kids. Thought we'd have a little bit of a chance to chat before we headed out. I see you're all packed," he said, nodding to the bags on the floor.

"Yeah," Nicholas mumbled, shyly.

"Are there plans for aftercare?" Burt asked Xavien.

"We've made a referral for counseling, but it's a two to three week wait. In the meantime I'll call to check in pretty frequently," Xavien explained.

"And supervised visits are monthly?" Burt asked, keeping a wary eye on Nicholas. He didn't miss the twitch at the mention of visits.

"They've been here but they'll be at the OFC office now," Xavien answered. "His social worker is in charge of all that though. You shouldn't have to do any transportation. He'll be in touch to arrange it."

"I don't mind doing it when I can," Burt said knowing it would put the boy more at ease and Nicholas straightened with surprise. "Kurt can take you when I can't get away. Blaine too if your social worker will approve him."

Nicholas' heart leaped at the thought of getting to spend hours in the car with both of the boys he admired so much. The idea that he might finally have not only one but two older brothers to watch out for him was more than he ever could have hoped for. He didn't even realize how much he desperately needed their love, but he would do anything not to mess this up.

Speaking of, Blaine came bounding into the office without warning and playfully mussed Nicholas' hair and punched him softly in the arm a few times. "Hey there little bro, you ready to go?"

Nicholas was certain that the grin that broke on his face would never disappear as long as this continued to be his life. He looked up to see Kurt smiling down at him from the doorway, welcoming blue eyes shining, watching Blaine with Nicholas.

Kurt already loved this kid because Blaine loved him, but also because he reminded him so much of himself at that age. "You ready to go home?" Kurt asked and Nicholas couldn't believe his ears. Was he really going home?

They unpacked him into the room that had been planned for Blaine but was now his. Blaine had gone home after dinner, promising to see him soon, and Nicholas helped with the dishes because he didn't want to be a burden. Finn had already left for basic training and Carole was working late. She'd wanted to give Nicholas time to settle in without too much fuss. Kurt said goodnight to both him and his Dad and headed upstairs. Burt settled in with Nicholas on the couch in the living room, the baseball game on in the background.

"Why don't we have a talk son?" he said.

Nicholas' nerves jumped, both at the word 'son' and at the word 'talk.' In his experience, talks were always serious and never went well and Burt's face definitely appeared as serious as possible. But he steeled himself and he tore his eyes from the game, trying not to wring his hands together.

"Do you have any questions for me?" Burt asked gently, knowing that despite their familiarity this still must be incredibly scary for the boy. Nicholas just shook his head though. In the moment, nothing came to mind. "If you ever do, just ask, okay?"

"Sure," Nicholas said.

"Now you know where everything is from when you stayed over for Easter. Finn's off to basic training, so he won't be back until his leave before he's shipped out. Kurt's around all summer, working at the shop, and if you ever want to come to work too, I'm happy to have you and pay you for your time. Do you know anything about cars?"

Nicholas shook his head. "I've never even looked under the hood before."

Burt smiled. "Well I'll have to take you in and give you a tour. If you like it you can hang out. If you don't, that's fine too."

"Thanks," Nicholas smiled tentatively. It could be interesting to learn about cars.

"Good," Burt nodded, but then his face grew serious again and Nicholas braced himself. Here it comes, the part where he learned how this was just temporary, or that things wouldn't be as good as he thought, or he was told he wasn't really a part of the family despite what Blaine said. "Now Xavien and your social worker have both talked with me about your history," Burt continued. "And I know how you came into care and I know what happened back at Sidney House. I talked to Xavien about what he thought of the whole situation and he had some idea that maybe what happened between you and Dylan wasn't quite exactly what it seemed. Was he right?" Burt raised a brow.

Nicholas' heart started to race. Was he already in trouble here before it had even been a day? "Maybe," he shrugged, not sure exactly what was the right answer.

"Listen kid," Burt said. "Not only have I raised a 15 year old boy before, I've raised a manipulative 15 year old gay boy before. So let me tell you, I've got your number before you can even count to one." He looked Nicholas straight in the eye and made sure that he was listening. "Honesty is the only way this is going to work, Nicholas. If you want something, you tell me. If you need something, you tell me. But don't play games with me, little ones or big ones. I don't like being played."

He took it all in. He knew that Burt was asking him to trust him, and though it could be the hardest thing he had ever done, he decided to give it a try and see if this man was really worth it. "Mr. Hummel?" Nicholas asked tentatively.

"Call me Burt," he said gently.

"Burt?" Nicholas tried again.

"Yes?"

He held his breath, deciding how to say it, whether to say. In a matter of minutes he mulled over everything that he could gain and everything he could lose by simply asking for what he needed, what he wanted more than anything and he realized that if he could take the horrible risks he had in the past, the risk of a simple moment of honesty should be easy. "I need a home," Nicholas admitted.

Burt's chest clenched with emotion, overwhelmed with the incredible courage this boy had just mustered to overcome his greatest fear. He was reminded of the moment Kurt came out to him, and he choked back a tear. "You've got one, son," Burt promised. "This is your home."

Author's Note:

Reviews are love.

I don't know how frequently I will be posting, but I will do my best to keep this regular. Next up…Cassanova Arlington.