A/N: Thank you so much for the kind comments and follow. I'm sorry this took longer to update but my work has been killing me and I was in an accident recently so there just hasn't been time to do much fic-wise. As a recap of last chapter, Blaine had just come home and the Anderbros had their bonding moments. In this chapter, Blaine finally saw his parents again, but the meeting might not turn out the way he had anticipated. If you like ths chapter, please rec and review it. Also, I have a tumblr where I post fanart and drabbles of Seblaine that are not posted here. I'd be really honored if you can follow me at "rykerstrom . tumblr . com". Thanks.


Chapter 7

Growing up, Blaine had always had a love for nature. The greenery, the lush trees, the fresh smell of dew and pine cones and the melodious chirp of the birds; all served to have a calming effect on him. On his bad days, Blaine found that taking a stroll in the nearby woods always did the trick of calming him down.

The forest was his refuge.

"Blaine, have you heard a thing I said?"

"What? Of course- uh- you said the food supplies that the District's been getting from the Capitol had been great in variety." Blaine waved a hand at Jeff, hoping that his deception wasn't too obvious.

"That was fifteen minutes ago." Jeff peered at him, his expression one of concern. "You have been elsewhere this whole time."

"Sorry, I guess I'm just tired. That's all." It was a weak excuse, but one that would usually get people to back off. However, Jeff wasn't most people.

"Something's been bothering you." Jeff stopped in his tracks, placing his hand on Blaine's shoulder. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

"I'm fine." Blaine forced out a smile. If there was anything he had learned about the Capitol during the time that he had spent there, it was the fact that things were always monitored. The forest was probably as safe as it was going to get for any honest conversations. But even then, his problems were not the kind that he could freely share with anyone. "It's just surreal to come home."

"I'll bet!" Jeff nodded. "Tell me about the Capitol. Do the people really dye their skin? I heard that your stylist had feathers instead of hair on their body, is that true? What about the parties? Are they as wild as they say."

"It's—" Blaine paused as he tried to push the unpleasant memories away and only focus on the few positive attributes of the Capitol, Jeff always had held more of a fascination than distaste for The Capital. "It's different. Colorful, metallic, and extravagant."

"Those are just words, Blaine." Jeff threw up his hands, looking a bit bewildered. "Descriptions! I want to know the details."

"Well, it's just—it's hard to describe. Everything's big there, and even the people are colorful." Blaine stole a look at his friend, who was listening with rapt attention. "They have these machines that can churn out the most extravagant food in seconds and buildings made of steel and light up at night."

"Oh, wow!" Jeff gaped. "You know what? I'm glad you're staying there. You really deserve the good life after all that you have had to go through."

Even though he was miles away from the Capitol, it seemed that Blaine could never truly escape the one thing he wanted to run away from. The very thought itself made his heart pang uncomfortably.

"Thanks, I guess." Blaine mumbled.

"Hey, look." Jeff had his hand on Blaine's shoulder. "Forget about what people say. I'm glad you made it out and if it weren't for you, we wouldn't be getting so much food this year."

This was the second time someone had implied something negative about Blaine's victory. First Cooper, and now Jeff. Blaine knew something was amiss the moment he came back. People seemed distant, and even his friends had been avoiding him, citing some sort of excuse. Jeff had been the only one who wanted to catch up.

"What are people saying exactly?"

"Nothing, really." Jeff kicked at the small rocks uncomfortably. "I mean, the Games is never pleasant. You know how people are weird about it."

"No, I don't." Blaine hated to put Jeff on the spot, but he would really rather everything was laid out in the open. Out of all the places where Blaine had to play the guessing games, he certainly did not expect his own home District to be one of them. "All I know is that it seems that everyone is really busy to spare me even five minutes. What gives, Jeff?"

The question came out harsher than Blaine intended. Immediately, he felt bad for taking out his frustrations on his friend. But he had been home for over one week, and he still had yet to see his parents, who kept extending their business trip.

"Forget it, Blaine. It's not worth it." There was a pleading look in Jeff's eyes, and a hint of fear. "Ask your family, someone close to you whom you can trust and will tell you as it is."

"Fine." Blaine sighed. This was not how he imagined his trip home to be like. While it was nice to have his own privacy again, he felt like a stranger in his home. "Let's change the topic then."

"All right." Jeff seemed relieved. They resumed walking and came across a clearing. They found a patch of clean dry grass and sat down, enjoying the warm afternoon sun. "So, did you meet any cute guys while you're in the Capitol?"

Blaine could feel his entire body tensing up at the question before he could stop himself. It was almost a reflex these days, that the very thought of what he had to endure would prompt such an involuntary physical reaction. He willed himself to relax and stay calm, reminding himself that no one knew about what had transpired between him and Sebastian.

"No, not really." Blaine hoped that the smile he had on his face was convincing enough.

"Are you sure about that?" There was a mischievous glint in Jeff's eyes. "Because something tells me you're not telling everything."

"Wh—what are you talking about?" There was a familiar heat that was creeping its way up his neck. Blaine hated how his complexion would give away his blush so easily.

"You're blushing!" Jeff pointed out. "Actually, you have a hickey on your neck."

"What?" Blaine's hand flew to his neck, wondering where the offensive mark was.

"It's near the base of your neck. You only see it when the shirt moves." Jeff bumped Blaine's shoulder playfully. "I wouldn't worry about it though, it's almost faded. Your secret's safe with me."

"Please don't tell anyone about this." Blaine tried to sound genuinely embarrassed rather than distressed. He was relieved when Jeff didn't seem to notice.

"Of course!" Jeff had a large grin on his face. "I'm really happy for you, you know that? I'm so glad that you found someone after all this."

"Thanks, Jeff."

It was the only thing Blaine could say.


It was almost dinner time when Blaine got home. He felt his heart speed up in excitement at the lights that were coming out from the first floor. During the past week, the only light he could see was from Cooper's room. But tonight, the entire house seemed lit up, and that only meant one thing.

His parents were home.

Blaine picked up his pace and broke into a small run, eager to greet his parents. He went by the side door, where he knew would be left unlocked. Opening the door quietly so as not to make a sound, Blaine inched his way toward the kitchen, where he could hear voices.

"But mother—" Cooper sounded like he was arguing something.

"We can't have him in our home! Not anymore." His mother sounded agitated.

"But it's Blaine! He saved my life. He volunteered on my behalf!" Blaine could see Cooper standing near the kitchen counter, his face flushed with frustration. "Father! Please say something!"

"You heard your mother." For as long as Blaine could remember, his father had always played the mediator in any family arguments.

"I don't understand." Cooper shook his head, disappointment evident in his face. "It's still Blaine. He hasn't changed. He's been here this whole week and he's the same boy who left the house months ago."

"The Blaine that we knew is dead." It felt as though someone had punched Blaine in the gut. It was one thing to be ignored or deemed not good enough, but to be considered dead was an entirely different level of hurt. "He died the moment he killed that boy from District 1."

"Mother, you know he had to." Cooper's lips were pressed in a thin line, his fists clenched tight. It was something that Blaine remembered his brother would do when he tried to keep his anger in check. "And if it wasn't for Blaine, the government wouldn't give us the business and the District wouldn't have gotten all the food."

Blaine moved to the doorway quietly. He could now see both of his parents. His father had his hand on his mother's shoulder in a comforting gesture, while his mother's face was that of anger and hurt.

"Have you forgotten what we have to face when Blaine's gone?" His mother continued. "All those looks from the neighbors. They don't say it but I know what they're thinking. The Anderson boy's a killer. Now they're part of the Capitol, enjoying the riches from killing innocent children."

"Father!" Cooper looked at his father pleadingly.

"You know your mother's right." His father sighed.

"And haven't you forgotten what happened with your engagement?" His mother demanded. "She was a nice girl, Cooper. If it wasn't for Blaine—"

"What did happen to the engagement?" Blaine was surprised by the calmness in his own voice, even though he knew he must be shaking right now.

"Blaine!" Cooper started toward him. "Have you—how long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough." Blaine tried to keep his breath steady. He knew he was never the favorite son, but to be called a killer by his own parents was simply too much. "What happened to the engagement, Cooper?"

"It's not important, Blaine. Why don't we—"

"The girl's family called it off, son." His father spoke up.

"They don't want their daughter to be associated with a killer." The tone in his mother's voice was sharp and harsh. It cut into Blaine like a dagger into the flesh. "You! Because of you, Cooper lost his chance in happiness!"

"Mother!"

"Is that true, Cooper?" Blaine felt a lump forming in his throat and he swallowed it away. "Is that true?"

"It's no big deal." Cooper forced out a smile and tried to reassure him by putting his hand on Blaine's arm.

"Nobody wants to be associated with the Anderson name because of you." His mother's voice rang out from Blaine's left. "We might not have been swimming in riches, but at least we were honorable. We have survived for generations in honesty, and now you've brought blood upon our house."

"Mother! How could you say that? Blaine's your son!"

"Cooper, don't you speak to your mother like that." His father stepped in, his posture stiff and his face grim. For the first time tonight, Blaine had a chance to get a closer look at his father. The quiet man who had been the silent supporter of this family looked tired and aged from stress. His face was gaunt and there were lines around his eyes that Blaine didn't remember seeing before he left for the Capitol.

"I—" This was worse than being in the Games. At least in the Games Blaine held no feelings toward anyone, but this was his mother, whom he loved and admired all these years.

"We don't want your money." His mother pulled out a satchel from under the kitchen sink and threw it at Blaine's feet. "Take your blood money with you and go back to Capitol. We don't house murderers here."

A choked gasp made its way out of Blaine's lips before he had a chance to stop it. His vision suddenly started to shift in and out of focus. There was a stinging sensation in the back of his eyes and the lump in his throat was back. He could feel his breath quickening before it turned into labored gasps. It was as though Blaine was losing motor control of his body and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Instead of responding to his mother, Blaine kept his eyes on the floor as he turned around and ran up to his room, slamming the door behind him before throwing himself onto the bed. He didn't even realize he was crying until he started feeling the wetness that was soaking through the pillow case. Dimly, he could hear arguing downstairs and Blaine didn't bother tuning it out because he deserved to hear every abusive and hurtful word that was being thrown at him.

After all, his mother was right. He was a murderer; the blood was on his hands.

(TBC)