"Did you hit him?" In three long steps, Burt Hummel was across the kitchen and reaching out to grip Finn's shoulder, spinning him around and pulling him away from the smaller boy he held pinned against the counter. "What the hell did you do?"

Kurt blinked, shaking his head slightly. It took him a moment to process his father's words enough to realize that Burt's furious accusation was aimed at Finn, and not Blaine.

It took Finn a moment longer – of course – but then, he was sputtering in outrage, "Wait – what? I didn't… it wasn't me! Blaine was the one who hit him!"

Burt took a step back, looking toward Blaine with a frown of confusion before turning his questioning gaze back toward Finn. "You mean, he… why would Blaine…"

"Why would I?" Finn demanded, wounded.

"I don't know." Burt's tone was a little defensive, and he seemed a bit taken aback by the question, glancing guiltily toward Carole before shrugging and speculating in a vaguely evasive tone, "I'm guessing Kurt and Blaine thought no one else was awake. Maybe you… walked in on something you didn't appreciate seeing?"

"Yeah." Finn's mouth tightened into a grim line, his arms crossing over his chest as he cast a pointed look between Kurt and Blaine. "Yeah, I did, actually."

Kurt turned his head away from the scene across the room, stifling a whimper against Carole's shoulder as her embrace tightened around him, one hand rising to run soothingly through his hair. He drew a certain measure of comfort from the soft, reassuring murmur of her voice, though he couldn't make sense of her words, not with his mind racing ahead in panic, already well aware of how much Finn was about to reveal.

He just knew that he couldn't bring himself to look.

This is it. I'm about to watch my dad murder my boyfriend…

He felt shaky and sick at that thought, but didn't realize how close he was to collapsing until Carole steered him backward toward one of the kitchen chairs. She pushed him gently down into it and then sat down in the one beside him, all without taking her arms from around him for a moment. She felt warm and soft and safe, and Kurt wished that he could just hide as Finn blurted out the reality that he'd been trying so hard to avoid believing.

"I saw Blaine hit Kurt in the face," Finn declared. "It knocked him down. And he was going to kick him when I walked in and stopped him."

"I-it wasn't like that!" Blaine protested immediately. "He didn't see what happened, he wasn't even in the room for most of it! He's just jumping to conclusions…"

"He says he saw you hit him." Burt's voice was low and trembling with rage, dangerous in a way that Kurt had rarely heard it before. "Now why would he make something like that up?"

"A second ago you were convinced that he was the one who would hurt Kurt!" Blaine pointed out, but his tone was defensive, and higher than usual. "Now you trust him completely?"

"I've known him a hell of a lot longer than you," Burt declared. He was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again, Kurt's stomach dropped. "Kurt? What happened?"

"Yeah, tell him, babe," Blaine urged him in a voice that was deceptively gentle, leading. "Tell him it didn't happen like Finn said."

Kurt couldn't help the flinch that went through him at Blaine's subtly demanding words, and he turned his face further away from both his boyfriend and his father, stubbornly refusing to raise it from Carole's shoulder, even as she tried to pull back enough to make him.

I can't do it… can't tell him what really happened, but… but I can't make him think that Finn's a liar, either, because he's not, and the last thing this family needs is more tension between me and Dad and Finn, and if I tell him the truth Blaine will never forgive me, but…

I can't… I just can't…

"Come on, Kurt. Tell him what happened." Finn's voice was calm but firm, unusually gentle.

"Yeah, come on, Kurt. Tell him." Blaine echoed the other boy's words, but there was a subtle edge to them that sent a shiver down Kurt's spine.

"Both of you, just shut up!" Burt snapped, his voice trembling with frustration – and Kurt braced himself as he heard the sound of his father's voice drawing nearer to him as he spoke. A moment later, he felt the warmth of a very familiar pair of hands on his shoulders, gently but insistently pushing him back away from Carole and holding him up, despite his efforts to lower his head again.

"Kurt." His voice was soft but stern, and Kurt opened his eyes, but couldn't bring himself to meet his father's intent, searching gaze. "Come on, son. Tell me what happened."

Kurt just shook his head, blinking rapidly against the fresh tears that filled his eyes, unable to raise them above the level of his father's chest.

"Look at me, Kurt," Burt insisted. "Come on… look at me."

As he spoke, he reached out a cautious, gentle hand to rest beneath Kurt's chin, tilting it upward. Kurt swallowed back a sob, closing his eyes for a moment before drawing in a shuddering, tearful breath and forcing himself to meet his father's eyes.

"Did he hit you, Kurt? Did Blaine hit you?"

Kurt's lips parted to respond, to deny it, though he couldn't – and neither could he confirm it. He felt trapped, unable to choose an option that wouldn't hurt and infuriate someone that he loved more than his own life. His heart raced, tears streaking his face, unable to tear his eyes away from his father's questioning gaze now that he'd met it, and unable to bring himself to speak.

He knew he didn't have to.

As always, the truth was plain on his face, to anyone who knew him at all – and his father knew him better than anyone.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath, eyes blazing with protective rage as he turned away from his son and strode purposefully across the room, fists clenched at his sides as he approached Blaine, who was scrambling along the edge of the counter away from him, eyes wide and panicked.

"Come on, it's not that big a deal! So we had a fight that happened to get a little physical. We're both guys! He's bigger than I am!" Blaine babbled out a terrible explanation that only made things worse, in a voice that trembled with fear. "It's not like I'm beating up on a girl or something! He can hit back any time he wants!"

"What, so it's okay for you to hit him because he's your boyfriend, not your girlfriend?" Finn frowned, his tone a combination of indignation and confusion. "That's homophobic! Or… sexist. Or something. Is it possible for a gay dude to be homophobic?"

"Finn." Carole's soft voice from across the room stopped him. "Stop trying to help."

Nothing that Blaine or Finn or Carole had said seemed inclined to stop Burt from his chosen course of action. He continued advancing on Blaine, his face red with anger, his clenched fists trembling – and Kurt's stomach lurched as he thought of the warnings his father had received from his doctor about allowing his blood pressure to get too high. It was enough to pull Kurt from his own fear and indecision, and at last he withdrew from Carole's arms, crossing the room to place a hand on his father's shoulder just before he reached Blaine, crying out in desperate protest.

"Dad, don't!"

Burt spun around to face him, incredulous and outraged. "He hits you, and you're trying to protect him?"

"No." Kurt met his father's gaze, earnest and pleading. "I'm trying to protect you."

Burt froze for a moment, his clenched fist lowering slowly back down to his side. He shook his head slowly, his gaze shifting back and forth between his son, and the threat to his well-being that had been willingly invited into their home, that he had trusted with Kurt's safety, with his heart…

He shook his head, torn.

"He's right," Blaine spoke up, desperately clinging to the way out Kurt had just provided. "You can't hit me! You could go to jail if you hit me! You're not allowed, because that would be child abuse! I'm a minor!"

"Yeah," Finn agreed, stepping forward with a slow, thoughtful nod, his head lowered slightly. Then he looked up to meet Blaine's eyes, a slight smile forming at the corners of his mouth. "So am I."

And without hesitation, he drew back his fist and struck Blaine, hard, across the face, sending him staggering back a few steps – and conveniently into the doorway that led out of the kitchen and into the front hall. Blaine regained his balance and took off running as Finn hissed and shook his fist.

"Shit!" he muttered. "Why do people in the movies always punch people in the mouth? That freakin' hurts!"

"Finn!" Carole protested, moving forward to check her son's injury. "Are you all right?"

Burt took a single step toward the doorway – but then stopped at the sound of the front door opening, and then slamming shut again. He hesitated, momentarily torn, before taking back that single step and moving back toward his son. He placed one hand cautiously, tenderly against Kurt's cheek, tilting his head up to face him.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly, searching Kurt's face for the truth.

Kurt nodded slowly, blinking back tears, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. Burt abruptly threw his arms around his son, drawing him into a fierce hug. Kurt froze for a moment, startled by the uncommon display of emotion, before melting into the embrace, burying his face against his dad's chest as a choked sob rose up in his throat.

"Where's he think he's going, anyway?" Finn's voice reached his ears, muffled slightly by Burt's protective presence, wrapped around Kurt and sheltering him from anything outside the two of them. "It's not like he's even got a car here…"

Kurt looked up, sniffling a little as he considered that question. "Maybe he'll… c-catch a cab back to Westerville or something."

He's never going to forgive me. After this, we're over. We have to be…

Kurt's heart clenched painfully at that thought – and then his face flushed with shame at his own reaction.

Shouldn't you be glad he's gone? After what he's done? Shouldn't you be the one breaking up with him, instead of just putting up with it and putting up with it for so long…?

"I don't care where he goes," Burt declared, drawing back a little but not taking his arms from around his son enough to look down at him. "As long as it's nowhere near you."

Kurt turned his troubled gaze toward the empty kitchen doorway, and the hall beyond it that led to the front door. He knew that he should share his father's sentiment, and be glad that Blaine wasn't around to do any more damage. He knew that he should simply shut the other boy out of his life, and forget him.

He also knew that he couldn't.

Whether or not he should, Kurt couldn't help loving Blaine – couldn't help worrying about where he was going, and whether or not he was going to be all right, and how things would be between them when he saw Blaine again. Although he knew he shouldn't feel that way, he couldn't help the desperate, anxious thought that filled his mind.

Oh, Blaine, I'm so sorry… please come back…