Kurt adjusted his little red bowtie in the mirror in his room. With one last quick spray to his hair, he grabbed his keys, got into his Range Rover and drove the forty minutes to Blaine's house. He checked his hair one last time in his rearview mirror, grabbed both bouquets of flowers from the passenger seat, shut his door and walked up to the front door of the Anderson house. He had been here hundreds of times, but never when Blaine's family was home. Blaine's parents were travel agents. They were almost always away checking out new resorts and destinations to recommend for their clients. Kurt was just never over when they were home by complete coincidence. Kurt rang the doorbell and a tiny, brunette woman with curly hair opened the door. "You must be Kurt! I've heard so much about you! I'm Sarah Anderson, Blaine's mother," she said, giving Kurt a hug. Kurt smiled brightly.

"It's nice to meet you! These are for you," he said, handing her the bouquet of lilies.

"Oh, Kurt, they're beautiful! You really didn't have to get me flowers," Sarah said. The light sound of bare feet came running down the stairs.

"Kurt!" Blaine exclaimed, running down the stairs and into his boyfriend's arms.

"It's nice to see you too," Kurt said, laughing. "This is for you." Kurt handed Blaine a single red rose.

"Aww thank you! It's beautiful!" Blaine said, giving Kurt a kiss. He ushered him inside and Kurt slipped off his boots. "I was thinking we could wa…" Blaine was interrupted by the sound of industrial boots clomping out of the study. A tall, sturdy man with dark hair and Blaine's eyes emerged and Blaine's face went ghostly white. Kurt knew that Blaine's father was homophobic and there was a chance this could now go very badly. Kurt's stomach twisted into a knot.

"What's going on out here?" the man asked.

"Steven, this is Kurt. He's Blaine's…friend from school," Sarah said. Kurt suddenly understood.

"Steven Anderson," the man said, shaking Kurt's hand. His handshake was past firm and close to too tight.

"It's nice to meet you, sir," Kurt said. Mr. Anderson barely nodded.

"Blaine, can I speak to you in the study please?" Mr. Anderson asked. Kurt could see the fear enter Blaine's eyes. Blaine didn't move. Sarah nudged him towards his father.

"Yeah dad," Blaine said. He followed his father into the study. Kurt wanted so desperately to go with him, to make sure he was okay.

"Come into the kitchen Kurt. Do you like lemonade?" Sarah asked.

"Um, yeah. Is Blaine okay?" Kurt asked.

"Oh of course sweetie, he's fine. His father just has to ask him something really quick," Mrs. Anderson said. She avoided all eye contact with Kurt and flitted around the kitchen nervously. She flipped on the radio and poured Kurt a glass of lemonade. Kurt could swear that even over the sound of Jason Mraz strumming his guitar on the radio, he heard yelling. About five minutes later, Blaine came into the kitchen. His hands were shaking and his perfectly quaffed hair seemed somewhat out of place on one spot.

"Hey Kurt, do you want to go to my room to watch a movie?" Blaine asked.

"Sure," Kurt replied, giving Blaine a strange look.

"Great! I'm going to grab us a snack, do you want to go and pick one?" Blaine asked. Kurt nodded and headed up the stairs, but crept back down close enough to the bottom to hear into the kitchen.

"Honey, are you okay?" Mrs. Anderson said to her son quietly. He didn't hear Blaine respond. Instead he heard a giant sigh from Mrs. Anderson. "Don't cry honey. You don't want to freak Kurt out."

"He hit me again, mom," he heard Blaine choke out quietly. Kurt gasped, but quickly held his tongue.

"Do you want some ice for that?" she asked. Kurt heard rustling in the cabinets and then in the ice box. "Hold this to your eye for a minute," Sarah said. Kurt waited for a few minutes until he heard the clunk of the boots coming down the hall again. His stomach dropped and he scampered up the stairs to Blaine's room. He sat down on Blaine's bed. His legs suddenly felt like Jell-o and they couldn't support his weight anymore. He sat for a few minutes to process his thoughts. Mr. Anderson had hurt Blaine. That he already knew. Had this happened before? All he knew is that Blaine was in trouble. He wanted to know everything. He wanted to make Blaine feel better. He wanted to hug Blaine and tell him that it was going to be okay. He wanted to kill Mr. Anderson for even thinking of laying a hand on Blaine. Not Blaine. Anyone but Blaine.