Chapter four
After dinner (which Blaine quite liked, he hadn't had a home cooked meal in months,) They fixed up the guest room. Burt tossed some sheets and pillowcases onto the bed and went to find a blanket and some pillows. Blaine opened his bags to start putting things into the dresser when he saw a note sitting on the top of his clothing. He read it hesitantly, knowing it wouldn't be anything he wanted to read.
Blaine,
Your mother and I no longer want to have any contact with you. We put what belongings fit in your bags and we told the housekeeper to let you in next week while we are at work so you can get the rest of your things. If you leave anything, it will be thrown out.
Signed,
Walter Anderson
You know that we didn't want it to come to this, but you seem to have left us no choice. Good luck wherever you end up, Blaine.
Signed,
Lucy Anderson
So that was it. They didn't want anything to do with him anymore. He pulled his knees up into his chest and laid on the bed, starting to cry again. Burt walked in after another minute or two.
"Blaine? What's wrong?"
He picked the letter up and handed it to Burt with a shaky hand.
Burt read it, visibly getting angrier with every line he read. "That son of a bitch. That fucking bastard son of a bitch. Blaine, you don't deserve this. You are amazing and they are just too narrow minded and stupid to understand that. You deserve better parents than them, you deserve parents who will care about you unconditionally, Blaine. And I'm so, so sorry you have had to deal with them for this long. You can stay here as long as you want, we aren't going to kick or out or treat you how they did, okay kiddo? You have people here who care about you, and that isn't going to change."
Blaine sat up, wiped his face, wincing when his hand ran over his cheek, and hugged Burt, sobbing into his shoulder.
"T-t-thank you so much, Mr. Hummel -"
"Burt."
"Burt, for letting me into your home like this. I can't say it enough, thank you so much."
"It's no trouble, kid. Now let's get your stuff put away, alright?"
"Yeah, okay." Blaine said, pulling his clothes out of the bags, still breathing quite quickly from crying. He stopped after a minute with a sigh and started rubbing his eyes, lightly biting his lip.
"Something else wrong?"
"Kurt gave me that shirt." He whispered, trying to keep from crying again. He wasn't sure that he even physically could cry anymore after all the crying in the past day or two.
"Blaine, have you considered just calling him and apologizing?"
"He won't pick up the phone."
"Texting?"
"He doesn't reply."
"Maybe you could try Rachel?"
"She picked up, told me I was an asshole, and hung up."
Burt pressed his face into him palms, trying to think of any other option.
"Facebook? Twitter? Tumblr?"
"He blocked me on all of them. I even sent flowers with a note, he ignores everything I try."
"Blaine, just give him some time. He loves you. He still loves you. He just needs some time to deal with how he feels. Eventually he's going to talk to you."
"You think so?"
"Kid, I know my son. Sooner or later he's going to talk to you. Now let's finish putting your stuff away so we can sleep. It's been a long day for me so I can't imagine how it's been for you."
"I'm not tired.." Blaine started, cut off by a huge yawn.
Burt laughed. "Yeah, okay, i'm sure you aren't."
"I'm not," Blaine protests, "I'm just.. fuck it, I don't know, yeah, I'm pretty damn tired."
Burt smiles. "Now get your butt off this bed so we can put the sheets on alright?"
"Sure thing Mr. Hu-, Burt. Thanks."
