Sitting in a court room was not what Kurt and Blaine had in mind for the last week before school started. Nonetheless, the two of them sat together, Blaine sandwiched in between Kurt and Azalea, Blaine's social worker. The first two days had consisted of family services testimonies, photos, psychologists, and a lot of forms. The most interesting event had been Lane's testimony, during which she, Blaine, Kurt, Carole, Azalea, and Mr. Anderson ended up crying.
Today was the day that made fear bubble up in Kurt's throat. Blaine was testifying, along with his father. The attacks had become less and less frequent as Blaine continued to take medicine and meet with his therapist, but Kurt was terrified that there would be another one today. As the judge walked in and the courtroom's population rose, Kurt gave Blaine's clammy hand a squeeze. "You're up soon…Ready?"
Blaine nodded in response, squeezing back halfheartedly. Was he ready? "This guy raised you-tought you to ride a bike, to throw a ball." Blaine reminded himself. "And then hit you when you refused to try out for football." Another part of Blaine retorted with this fact. Just then, a security guard led in Mr. Anderson. Kurt and Burt averted their eyes, but Blaine stared into his father's face. He searched for remorse, for the tiniest twinge of regret or love. Blaine noticed his father's eyes, hazel, like his own, but filled with a deep, cold loathing.
He was ready.
A half hour of trivial court procedures flew by. Soon, the court secretary spoke the words Blaine had been awaiting. "Will Blaine Paul Anderson take the stand?"
Blaine got up abruptly, almost tripping over Kurt's feet. Azalea patted his hand and gave him an encouraging smile. Kurt kissed Blaine's cheek as he slid past. "Love you, Blaine."
"Love you too." Blaine managed to reach the witness stand without falling. From there on out, Blaine didn't remember much of what happened. The judge made him sign a few things, swear something, and finally let him begin the testimony. Glancing at his index cards, Blaine began.
"Hi. I'm, um, Blaine Anderson. Jackson Anderson is my father. My mom, she, um, divorced him when I was five. He got custody. Oh, and, um, and Lane is my stepmom. Since I was seven." He paused for breath, gazing straight ahead, trying not to sweat through his shirt. "When I was nine, I started to have issues sleeping. Lots of nights, I'd be awake till midnight. Sometimes, I'd hear him yell, and then" Blaine broke off, looking to Lane for a moment. "There was a noise, a whack, or a crash. Then Lane would cry out. The next day, she'd be wearing long sleeves, or a turtleneck. Sometimes there'd be a mark on her face that the makeup couldn't cover. I kind of knew, but I never said anything. He-my dad- was starting to scare me then."
The judge interrupted politely. "Did your father ever abuse you? Physically or mentally?"
"Yes, your honor. Both. Mostly, uh, mental. He only hit me a few times. Once when I wouldn't do football, sometimes when I cried about something, once when I broke a window. And he did a lot of damage when I told him I was gay." With that, Blaine felt the panic sink in. He couldn't get enough air. His heart was racing, trying to run away. Everything was so dark, so cold. There were voices. He felt tears pour down his face, heard his own moans and yells.
"Dad. I'm gay. It's not your fault, it's not anybody's. It's just how it is. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Dad. Say something." No words in response, just a fist. Then the marble floor. And the blood. So much blood. So hard. All of it, so hard.
Then another voice. This one was quiet and close by. "You were only waiting for this moment to be free..." Blaine's eyes fluttered open as the panic eased up. He grasped Kurt's outstretched hand, moving out from the corner he had wedged himself into. Kurt eyes glistened with concern. "Flashback?" he asked.
Blaine nodded, still unsure of his ability to speak.
"You're okay now." Kurt was rearranging Blaine's hair and clothing. "Need a pill?"
"Yeah." Blaine replied shakily, fishing a small bottle out of his blazer's pocket. When he tried to open it, his shaking hands betrayed him.
Kurt opened the bottle and passed Blaine a pill. "The attack wasn't too long, at least. Are you up to more of this, or should we go home? The judge said we could."
Blaine shook his head, and pulled himself up. "No, thanks." He picked his note cards back up, briefly rubbing his temples. "I'll finish this."
Even the judge looked nervous as she began to question Blaine again. "Are you sure you can continue, young man?"
"Yes, your honor. You asked if he was mentally abusive." The judge nodded, and Blaine continued. "Since I was ten or so, he was verbally abusive. Called me lazy, dumb, clumsy, and other stuff…when I came out to him-I was about 14- he started calling me 'your gayness' and faggot. It was bad." Blaine looked out at the spot where his team was sitting. Kurt was sniffling.
The judge continued, "Once you went to boarding school, did it stop?"
Blaine gulped. This was the worst part, the thing hadn't told anyone, not even Azalea. "No. He sent me…letters."
"Letters?" The judge raised her eyebrows.
"Yeah. Stories, actually. He wrote them. They were about gay kids getting beat up, or going straight, or dying of AIDs." Blaine shuddered at the memory. "I have them, if you want to see them."
"Absolutely. If you would submit them to the court secretary when court commences tomorrow, that would be ideal. I think that's all I need from you for today, Blaine. Thank you."
Blaine managed a smile as he retreated to his seat. As he hurried down the aisle, he noticed his father whispering to the defense attorney, who got up and spoke softly to the judge. She nodded briskly. "Mr. Anderson has requested that his son and his son's friends leave the room for his testimony and examination. Mrs. Anderson, as well."
Carole and Azalea gasped and looked concernedly at Blaine, who was looking at his hands, seemingly unsurprised. Kurt was red-faced, almost as outraged as Burt who marched out of the room, letting a door slam behind him. The rest of the group walked out, forming a shield around Blaine. As the door shut for the last time, Mr. Anderson took the stand.
Outside, the group was silent. Lane had hurried away, but everyone else stayed, nervously eyeing one another. Finally, Blaine broke the silence.
"Well. Just when we thought he couldn't be more of an asshole."
Looking back, Kurt decided that was when he knew that Blaine would be okay.