Rain splattered the windows and the windshield of the rental, and Blaine focused on breathing as he pulled into the driveway of his parents' house. Because if he hadn't been concentrating so hard, he was afraid he'd start hyperventilating. When he realized how tight his grip on the steering wheel was, he loosened it and withdrew his hands, flexing his fingers and staring blankly down at them near his lap.

He knew it wasn't going to be easy, and he knew that he could never have prepared for this, but he had no other choice but to go through with it, or the trip back would all be for naught.

Blaine was twenty-four years old, had been out in the real world on his own for quite some time now, but just going back and being in the presence of his childhood home and all the memories tied to it made him feel small again, like he was coming home from a long day at school needing nothing more than a warm embrace from his mother and something warm to fill his belly and quell the emptiness inside.

And now, as he sat out in the car under the gloomy, inky sky that relentlessly battered his shelter, he killed the engine and prepared himself to exit the vehicle and enter into the storm.

When he swung open the door and the rain hit Blaine's skin, his first instinct should have been to run, to hurry toward the entrance and shelter of the house where he'd be dry and warm, but instead he closed the car door behind him and stood in place just outside its confines, allowing the rain to pour down on him. It pummeled his face and hair, breaking through his gel and running down his forehead and his cheeks in thin rivulets, and he closed his eyes. And he breathed.

It was the storm that awaited him inside the house that he dreaded far more.

Blaine took a few soggy steps through the puddles in the driveway, not caring how the water seeped into every pore, soaked every fiber of his clothing, and added weight to his body, making each step of his trek across the lawn heavier, more taxing.

When he finally reached the steps and knocked on the door, he felt like he'd been pulled under by a riptide and tossed about by the unforgiving ocean. The salt from the rain left a taste in his mouth reminiscent of one of the only times he had been to the beach as a child and soon learned the wild, unpredictable ways of the waves.

"Blaine." Her voice was small and tinged with surprise.

"Mom," Blaine said, hanging his head and finally taking in the state of his dress.

"Come in!" She grabbed his arm and then placed her hand on his back to guide him inside the front door. Blaine stood on the mat, dripping buckets and afraid to take even a fraction of a step further into the house. And then his mother pulled him into a hug, made awkward by her attempt to avoid becoming soaked herself but still wanting to hold her son.

"I'm sorry," Blaine said as she pulled away and looked him up and down.

"It's okay, just - oh, I just cleaned the floors. I'll go get you some dry clothes -"

"No, Mom, it's fine -"

"Stay here. I'll be right back." She scampered off despite his protestation, and Blaine rolled his eyes before bending down to remove his shoes. Moments later, Mrs. Anderson returned with an outfit that must have belonged to her husband, Blaine's father.

"I -"

"Blaine. Go change. Hurry along to the downstairs bathroom," she said, and he pulled off his socks, took the clothing shoved into his arms, and did as he was told.

When he emerged from the bathroom in a pair of his dad's khakis and a polo, Blaine felt odd and uncomfortable, unnerved by the fact that he fit into his dad's clothing. He felt like a sheep in wolf's clothing, standing there, almost the likeness of a man whom he was nothing alike at all. But as he stood staring at himself in the hallway mirror, he shivered, wondering if maybe they had more in common than he thought.

Blaine sank down into a chair in the living room, catty-corner to the gratuitously-sized television and adjacent to a large, fake potted plant. Blaine tried his best to ignore the confusing aesthetic choices made by his parents as he sat there waiting for his mother's return while the woman fussed with his clothing to clean and dry them.

Upon her return, there was silence. Mrs. Anderson stood nearby, regarding him in a way that made him feel like she was currently x-raying him with her eyes. He was never very good at hiding things from his mother, save for his biggest secret of all. Blaine still wasn't sure how he'd managed that.

"You look tired. Are you hungry?"

"No, I'm okay."

"Do you...do you need anything? Anything at all?"

"I'm fine, Mom," Blaine insisted more firmly this time.

"You don't look fine, Blaine."

At that, Blaine sighed, feeling drained now that he was seated. He didn't want to beat around the bush anymore, and there was no need to prolong the conservation that needed to be had.

"Relax, Mom. You can stop worrying about me. Please, just - sit. Please," he repeated. Hesitantly, she lowered herself onto the sofa, sitting upright and stiffly perched just on the edge. "I have something I need to tell you. I'm just not sure how."

His mother stared at him hard, her brow furrowing a bit, but she remained silent. And then she finally opened her mouth to say, "You got someone pregnant."

Blaine was taken aback, and, before he could stop himself, he began to laugh, from nerves and slight amusement. His mother shot him a look, clearly offended by his reaction.

"Oh god, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be laughing. No, no, that's not it at all. I didn't get anyone pregnant, Mom. Gosh, I haven't even been with a woman, and I don't have a girlfriend." Blaine could feel himself growing hot, his face was probably beginning to color red.

And although he was sure she'd be relieved by this news, his mother actually looked a little disappointed. Now Blaine felt a twinge of guilt in his stomach, and now he had to let her down even more.

Blaine cleared his throat. "Actually, there won't ever be a girlfriend in the picture." He hesitated before continuing, trying to decipher the look on his mother's face. "That's why I came here, that is, what I mean to say is...I'm gay, Mom."

His mother sat there, hands folded in her lap, expression unwavering. She said nothing, simply sat there in silence while Blaine's discomfort rose. Then she sprung up off the couch and practically threw herself on him, wrapping him in her arms, pulling him into a tight hug. His eyes shot open wide at the contact, but then he felt tears beginning to well up in his eyes, and he blinked, causing them to roll down his cheeks and onto her shoulder.

Blaine hadn't been expecting a reaction like that, hadn't known what to expect, and he still wasn't sure if that meant she'd taken the news well.

All she said to him was, "It's okay," as she continued to hold him like he was a child who'd just woken from a nightmare. "It's going to be okay."

Mrs. Anderson didn't speak a single word the remainder of the evening, that is, until his father returned home.

Mr. Anderson was startled and jumped when he saw Blaine seated there in his chair and in his clothing. It was uncanny, like he was looking at a mirror that reflected his younger self, but Blaine looked somehow defeated, older than he ought to. Blaine turned his head upon his arrival to see his dad standing there in the doorway, but he spoke not a word, simply nodded his head as if to acknowledge his son's presence, and then turned away to find his wife.

Blaine swallowed hard and clenched his fists before taking a series of deep breaths to rid the tension from his body. His father had always been more distant with him than he'd been with his older brother, and they'd never grown very close, but that didn't mean that it didn't hurt.

He hadn't known how much time had passed before he turned on the television to finally have some background noise to not make him feel so crazy and alone and stuck inside his head. Halfway through a rerun of Criminal Minds, his parents sat down on the sofa, his father barely acknowledging him still, but his mother kept shooting him pitiful looks like he was a wounded animal. Blaine thought that perhaps she just didn't know how to feel about his confession.

The silence between them became too much, and after about the tenth look she shot his way, Blaine grabbed the remote from the arm of the chair, flicked off the television, and rose from his seat with a heavy sigh, turning toward his parents and crossing his arms.

"First of all, neither of you did anything wrong. Second of all, it's okay, Mom, this is not a bad thing. I'm happier than I've ever been."

"What is going on? What is he talking about, Catherine?" Blaine's dad finally spoke.

Blaine continued, "I met someone, and they're - he's wonderful."

At that, Mr. Anderson shuddered and wore his almost tangible discomfort on his face. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me correctly, Dad. I've been keeping this bottled up for too many years, and if I never told you the truth. If I never just came out with it," Blaine paused and took a shaky breath, "then I don't know how much longer I could live with myself," he finished, his voice cracking on the final three words.

"Are you telling me you're a fa-" His mother's warning eyes shot daggers, and she gripped her husband's arm hard enough to compel a rephrasing. "You're telling me you've been with a man - you're gay - my son is a homosexual?" His father's face was stony, and his voice almost too steady.

"Yes."

There was silence. Blaine's father looked conflicted, what seemed like anger boiled just below the surface. He looked away like he couldn't look at Blaine anymore, but then he looked back. "How long?"

"Since I was fourteen - that's how long I've known."

"Well, fuck."

Nervous laughter bubbled up from within and spilled out Blaine's mouth before he could stop it. He immediately tried to stifle it, knowing that it was terrible timing and could come across as mocking. There was no humor in the situation. The last thing he needed was to provoke his father's wrath.

"I don't know what to say. I have no words for you. But, how - why?" his dad asked.

"I wish I had an answer for you. I never asked to be what I am, but I am...I'm gay," he said, and it felt like it was already getting easier to say after the second time he'd said it aloud that day in his parents' house.

It was like there was static in the air, and a ringing started up in Blaine's ears as they sat there, staring each other down.

"Are you still working at JPMorgan?"

"Yes."

"Is there anything else you need to tell me?"

"No."

"Very well then."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Okay. Alright, well...good."

"Yeah. Good."

-s-

Shortly following dinner, Blaine stepped out onto the back porch, his phone gripped in his hand, wondering if he should call Kurt, anything to feel more at ease and reassure him that he'd done the right thing. Then his phone rang with an incoming call from his brother, and he answered it, not knowing what was in store for him.

"Mom told me everything," Cooper said, but Blaine couldn't read his tone. "She called me earlier."

"Let me explain -"

"No, you don't have to. Are you okay?"

"I - yeah. I think I am."

"Good, that's good. I was scared for you, Blaine, but you're strong. You're brave."

"I didn't feel that way, but thank you."

"I want you to know I'll always be on your side, no matter what. I don't think I need to worry about you, but if you ever need me, I'm here for you. Don't ever be afraid to call me."

"I won't. So, you're okay with all this? With how I am?"

"Of course I am. It doesn't make you any less of my little brother. If it's who you are, then it's what I have to accept. Why now, though? Is that okay to ask?"

"It's a valid question, and I guess the best answer is because I needed to, and because...I met someone, someone who is worth all of this."

"He must be. I don't think I've ever heard that tone in your voice before when talking about someone, and coming out to Mom and Dad was a fine price to pay for something - for someone."

"For love," Blaine said, as if correcting Cooper, but also almost to himself as if he was just realizing it.

"I'm really happy for you. I'm proud of you."

"Me too, Coop. Me too."

"Where is this guy? You didn't bring him along, did you?" There was a bit of panic in his voice.

"No, I know better. No, he's in New York...his name is Kurt."

"How did you meet him?"

Blaine laughed. "You'd never believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

Blaine grinned. "Alright, I will. I met her in a club where she was performing -"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute...'her'? But you just told me you're gay and Kurt's a man. This doesn't make any sense."

"Kurt is a man, but I met her, Elle, in a club."

"I'm still not following...is Elle his sister or something? A best friend?"

"She's a queen."

"What? A queen...? Ooh."

"Yeah."

"Your man is a drag queen. Huh. Interesting. You know, no judgment here. I dated this chick once who kinda looked like a man."

"Coop, really?"

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I know it's strange to most people and difficult to comprehend, and it's definitely been a wild ride."

"I bet it has."

"He's so good to me, good for me. I've never met someone who was so comfortable with himself, so confident and strong, in my entire life. Knowing Kurt has given me an entirely new perspective on life and the strength to do what I did, to be open and honest. I don't think many people get so lucky. And, it's like, suddenly I see, this is it, this is everything - and you know what? I think I've been using Mom and Dad as an excuse. I don't even live near them anymore and haven't had to answer to them for years. Now I'm finally taking responsibility and taking care of myself. The hardest part was always knowing, always having that nagging feeling in my gut, sometimes felt like an illness in my brain, knowing that I was attracted to men but never allowing myself to act on it. Was it shame? I don't know. Maybe I never thought that I'd find someone. Maybe I thought I'd never have the security I needed, so I settled. But in reality I was sheltering myself and keeping myself from ever really knowing. And then I took a gamble. I met Kurt, and now I never ever want to go back to living like I was. I never want to know that feeling again of being trapped inside myself."

"I can't even imagine how it felt for you. I've always been lucky enough to live my life doing what I wanted, pursuing who I wanted, because it was viewed as normal. No one ever had a reason to question or judge me, but I get it. I'm sorry you've been going through that."

"No, don't be. I don't want you to feel sorry for me, because this is a new beginning. All of that is in the past, and I finally know what it means when they say 'the truth will set you free'."

"Isn't that from the Bible, Blaine? Are you still religious, even after all of, well, what's been going on with you?"

"Not really, but, now that you say that, it probably is something I heard as a child. That doesn't mean that it can't hold personal meaning for me. I still believe in something, sometimes, even though it's been years since I've even set foot in a church. I still have faith, and I know the world is cruel, but I want to believe that it's changing and that people will come around. All I can do is remain strong and true to myself until then."

"You're an incredible person, little brother. I mean it. And I hope you really mean everything you're saying, because you deserve to be happy. You always have."

"I mean all of it. Thank you for calling me. I feel so much better now. It's late here, though, and I have an early flight to catch tomorrow."

"Oh, shit. I wasn't even thinking. I'm so sorry, I'll let you go now."

"It's no problem, and, Coop?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for being there for me. I really need people like you on my side, I need my family on my side, and you make it so much easier for me to see that I made the right decision to come out."

"You did it all yourself, Blainey."

"I did, didn't I."

"Good night, and have a safe flight home."

"Thanks, and good night to you too."