NOTE: Triggers.

There he was. Curls, a tangled mess, buried beneath a mountain of pillows. His arms wrapped around his blanket like a nursing child. Something was calling him, but he was so comfortable he couldn't move. His eyes were painfully aware he was awake. Just five more minutes… A voice called out from the bottom of the stairs, much louder this time. His father. Blaine was suddenly very awake even though Mr. Anderson's voice was significantly less audible through the barrier of Blaine's door. He got out of bed, "BLAINE! Are you up?"

He did not want to deal with this today. "Yes, dad."

"Where's the umbrella? It's not next to the door!" If you actually took the time to look for it, you'd find it faster.

"In the closet, dad." Just like me, dad! He practically spit out the last word. Was it raining? He had only been awake for five minutes, and he already knew today was going to suck.

He heard the muffled sound of rain against the window, then the wild crash of doors slamming, and angry non-coherent drabble as his father left the house for work. The car made an unusual metallic sound as it sped out of the driveway and pulled down the adjoining residential roads. Blaine felt no need to delve into the source of the noise, as his dad was always in a bad mood in the mornings. It was probably just the tires skidding on the pavement.

Blaine wanted to stay in bed all day. He did not want to bike through the downpour outside. He did not want to face the kids of McKinley, and he definitely did not want to think about how horrible his birthday was going to be this year. He flopped back on the bed again; arms spread wide sinking into the covers, unwilling to start his day.

"Hey dude, isn't that Blaine?"

They had barely begun their route to school; the rain along with Finn's inability to get out of bed had slowed them down.

"Finn, my name is Kurt. You insult my intelligence, and yes. I think. I think it is." I hope it is. He squinted out his passenger window towards the opposite side of the street. Undoing his seatbelt Kurt could hardly make out the small figure in the rain. His head was down, and his hands were shoved deep into his coat pockets.

"Should we give him a ride?"

"Finn, is that a question? Pull over. I wonder why his parents didn't drive him in today."

Finn pulled the car over next to the soaked mass of flesh.

"Blaine!" Kurt shouted over the rain.

"Hey! Blaine! Dude!" Kurt raised his eyebrows at Finn cynically.

Blaine snapped his head up and even through the rain Kurt could tell something was off about him. Blaine approached the car taking his time to get to Finn's window.

"What are you doing man? You're gonna get sick if you walk all the way to school like that." Finn was trying to coax him into the car. They were probably going to be late as it was, and if he took any longer to decide they would all get tardy slips.

"Yeah. I guess so. I usually bike, but…" Blaine trailed off pausing to wipe the curls away from his forehead. Pushing away images of his newly run-over bike, left abandoned in the driveway. A flash of lightening, and a loud crack of thunder broke violently overhead. They all jumped.

"What are you waiting for? Get in here! You're going to catch Pneumonia. Look at you! You're all wet!" He liked Kurt. Fuck, he liked Kurt.

"I'll ruin your seats." Blaine mustered a helpless grin as he said it.

Kurt didn't understand why Blaine felt like such a burden. "Listen, if we didn't want to help you we wouldn't have offered! Now get in here! Finn and I always keep an extra set of clothes in the car, so if you want to change when we get to school you can. They're in the back."

"…Thanks guys." Blaine quickly got in, and ran his fingers through the curly mop on his head. Tiny droplets of water sprayed all around the interior of the car. "Oops."

Kurt and Finn looked at one another, and burst out laughing. Kurt placed his hand on top of Blaine's. Kurt really liked that, "You're welcome."

The school day droned on, and before Blaine knew it, it was time to go home. He was ready to collapse into his bed and bury himself in his pillows however long he could force himself to sleep. His day hadn't been as bad as he thought it was going to be. He was just exhausted.

Truth be told Blaine was actually having a very good day. Sure, there were no 'happy birthdays' but he was starting to feel like people cared about him. He was proud of himself for letting parts of old Blaine free, and it felt nice.

Blaine had chosen a pair of Kurt's tight jeans and one of Finns large comfy flannel tops for school. He felt so disproportionally squeezed yet loose that he couldn't quite think correctly.

Every time he ran into Finn or Kurt at school they would playfully mock his outfit. He acted unimpressed, but secretly they had made his day. He hadn't gotten attention like that for months now. Blaine was starting to feel like a member of New Directions, like he had friends. He no longer had to fake being genuine, and it scared him senseless.

As he left the building muscle memory brought him to the bike rack, and he realized there was no longer any need to go there. His bike had been destroyed. Blaine figured it was a better birthday present than a mouthful of blood and a chipped tooth like last year. Thanks pop. It had stopped raining, but the cold grey clouds made it much darker than usual. Blaine would have to go home at a reasonable hour tonight.

His dad was particularly violent on his birthdays. Blaine wasn't sure whether it was the fact that he wished he didn't have a homosexual for a son, or if he was mourning his wife's death. Maybe it was both. Regardless, Blaine wasn't really sure what to expect tonight.

His father - in the past weeks - seemed like he had toned it down a bit, but Blaine didn't want to get his hopes up. What would make him want to change now? He assumed there was a something going on because his father had been avoiding him around the house, stepping out to make phone calls whenever he seemingly got angry.

Maybe his dad thought that if Blaine were invisible he could forget the reason his whole life turned to shit? Maybe if Blaine didn't exist, in his eyes, then a couple years ago today his lovely wife would still be alive?

"You need a ride home, right?" A gentle voice he dreamed of way to often was standing beside him now, and he was grateful.

"Yeah, that'd be nice. Thanks Kurt." Blaine flashed him a goofy smile and let go of the bike rack he was leaning against. Their moment was ruined, however, as they left the semi-secluded space.

"Hey fag boy! Trying to make a new boyfriend?" Two jersey-clad boys strode towards them, mocking Kurt with their voices and flipping out flamboyantly limp wrists.

It was David and his friend Azimo. Kurt looked at Blaine, but Blaine was frozen. Shit. Just leave David, you idiot. Karofsky and Azimo didn't know, but they were mocking Blaine too, and he stood there solid with shock.

Memories flooded his mind: One where David held him down and smashed an egg in his freshly gelled hair; One where David punched him in the jaw for staring into space to long; One where David dumped a slushie on his head as kids watched in the hallway. Then there was Blaine crying in the bathroom, Blaine skipping classes, Blaine transferring schools…

Both Blaine and Kurt's faces were tinted red. Kurt spoke first, "What do you want?" He sounded defeated. Blaine knew the feeling to well.

The jocks ignored Kurt and turned to the frozen figure beside him, "Blaine, how's it going man?" Karofsky forcefully slapped his hand on Blaine's shoulder and the two pairs of eyes locked together, having an intense silent conversation. Not here. This isn't how we were supposed to do this. Leave. You fucking idiot, leave!

"Blaine, we should go. Lets. Lets go okay?" Kurt tugged lightly on the flannel hanging off of Blaine's arm.

"Yeah. I'll uh, I'll meet you in a second I forgot a book in my locker."

"Blaine, are you sure?" Kurt was glancing nervously between the two men; the tension could be cut with a knife. It was clear to Blaine that he suspected something was going on, Kurt just didn't know what it was.

"Yeah, go ahead without me."

Kurt nervously backed away running into Rachel and Mercedes as he turned around. Blaine didn't hesitate to start in on Karofsky, "What the hell David!" He was practically shouting his whispers.

"David?" Azimo laughed heavily forcing his shoulders to almost reach his ears.

"Shut up, Azimo," Fuck, he called himself Dave now didn't he? Blaine didn't acknowledge his mistake, and Karofsky continued, "Sorry, I couldn't help myself."

Blaine glanced at Karofsky's friend, hushing his tone so that only the two of them could hear, "That wasn't part of the deal, and you know it!"

"Oh come on, Blaine. Why do you even care so much?"

"I just do, okay. This has to be done right."

"Whatever. It's not like you give a shit about the fairy princess anyways. Right?"

"Ugh," he paused. David was such an asshole. "Right." Blaine furiously turned and headed towards the parking lot, fumbling in his bag to make it look like he had gotten his sketchbook. He quickly shifted his persona to diffuse the situation, and brought out his tiny moleskine from his back pocket to scribble a simple thought.

Kurt, Mercedes, and Rachel were walking in a tightly knit formation to the parking lot, avoiding any kind of social damnation. Before branching out their separate ways Kurt stopped them both to finish the conversation at play. He had filled them in on his and Blaine's brief encounter with Karofsky, while concurrently arguing about Blaine's sexuality with Mercedes.

"You think I'm making it all up in my head? Oh god, I'm making it all up in my head. I don't know, maybe that's why he is so mean all the time."

"That does kind of make sense. I mean, in a twisted way I could see Blaine, but Karofsky? No way, he is super hetero." Mercedes was clearly commenting solely to humor Kurt. She didn't think either of them was gay. How could he explain what he had just seen without outing Dave? He hated him, yes, but he would never do anything like that… and what was that look they were giving each other? Were they together in secret? His head began to hurt as he spun together intricate details about Blaine and Karofsky's secret love affair. Did Blaine even know what Karofsky was capable of? Kurt was jealous. How did Karofsky get to know Blaine better than him?

"There was something going on between them. He didn't even stick up for me; he just froze like the insult was for him! Like he was shocked Dave would say something like that to his face." Scorned lovers. He knew Blaine was to good to be true.

"Maybe he was shocked. He is a new student! I think you two are making this to complex. There's no way they have something going on in secret, Kurt." Rachel saw the frustration grow on Kurt's face, "Although, my dads do say to never make assumptions! No one thought Jewel would be famous, right? She was even homeless for a little while."

"Duly noted." With a grimace Kurt glanced at the nearest car window, lifting his left hand to stroke through his perfectly coifed hair. "Mercedes?"

"Boo, I don't think we know him well enough yet to set things in stone. He barely speaks at practice, and he doesn't exactly hang wit us on the weekends."

"Great, an ambiguous gay duet partner. I told you he winked at me once, right?"

Rachel and Mercedes giggled.

"Oh, I know! Invite him out with us this weekend!" Rachel was jumping and holding on to Kurt at the same time.

"You just want him for yourself Rachel. Besides, if he doesn't play for Kurt's team I already got a dibs on that."

"Good luck getting past Satan. I mean, Santana." Kurt choked on his laughter. He was only joking, part of him liked how bold that girl was. He had made the comment more out of habit than anything else.

Rachel pouted in the silence. "Maybe he was just embarrassed that he was seen with you. Finn used to blush like that before we were official. Oh, sorry. That came out wrong, huh?" Rachel saw Blaine approaching from behind their huddle. "I'm going to go, bye guys! See you tomorrow!"

"Alright, I'll see you two later. Keep your eyes peeled! Remember, this conversation stays between us!" Kurt loved his friends. They made every situation more tolerable.

"My lips are sealed! Bye Kurt, Mercedes! Drive safe!" Rachel exaggerated a wink before she left for the senior lot.

"See you later, Kurt!" Mercedes did the same thing.

Kurt rolled his eyes, trying to contain the warmth spreading to his face. His guilty pleasure was turning into a dangerous fascination. Kurt knew he was setting himself up for disappointment, but he couldn't resist the appeal of Blaine Anderson.

"Alright, ready to go?" Kurt gave a crooked smile at Blaine as he approached, bouncing forward lifting his book into the air like he had found something rare and desirable.

"Yep. Got my sketchbook and everything!" Blaine had never shown excitement like that before, and Kurt was taken aback for a second.

"Lets get to the car then, Anderson."

"Hey, whoa, Anderson's my dad's name! I'd take a silly pet name before I started calling myself Anderson." Blaine stuck his tongue out feigning disgust.

It was like the Karofsky meeting hadn't happened. Blaine playfully punched Kurt's shoulder from the side and stared into his eyes, letting them linger for a moment to long before letting go. Kurt let out a nervous giggle.

It took a moment for his brain to start working. Blaine. Just. Touched. Me. He just touched me. Kurt, he touched you. Is he flirting? Crap. Where is the Berry Jones duo when you need them? "You do realize that I now have complete leverage to call you whatever I want, right?"

"Oh no, why do I have a feeling I'm going to regret this?"

"Because you are."

They both smiled as they approached the navigator, slipping in one after the other for their ride home. All flirting aside, Kurt was determined to get to know Blaine better than Karofsky. There was obviously something he was missing.

"So how are things with, uh, what was her name?"

They were awkwardly standing in the kitchen. Blaine hadn't planned it on purpose, he just happened to be hungry at the same time as his father. Here they were, having their first father/son "dinner" in months and all Blaine could think about was whether or not he remembered his sons birthday. The fact that his dad brought up his personal life was beyond his imagination., so he let it go.

Blaine was surprised his dad could remember that far back. He had only mentioned her in passing to get the priest to shut up.

"Quinn? She's… alright." Pretending to be straight wasn't too bad after all. Mr. Anderson had been way easier on him whilst consumed in the lie, but his father was acting weird. It was almost as if Blaine had never come out to him. Kind of like how he handled the Karofsky situation with Kurt earlier. He wondered what the ulterior motives could be.

"So is she your girlfriend now?" Was he trying to have a conversation?

"Um. Not exactly, but we're, close? I think I like someone else more though." Kurt, he's a boy, like me. Know him? He has impeccable fashion taste, an incredible range, a nice ass, and the prettiest eyes I've ever seen. We're duet partners.

The silence was broken by a violent shake on the table. Blaine's phone was buzzing. It was a call from an unknown number. He let it ring.

"I'm glad to see you're working on your little problem, Blaine." His father smiled weakly and cut into the vegetables on his plate. It was extremely forced, "I have too, obviously."

It was true. Blaine wasn't getting beaten half as much as he usually did, but that never lasted long. His phone was still vibrating.

"Jesus Blaine, answer your phone!"

"Sorry, I wasn't sure if that would be bad manners or not."

His dad stood up abruptly and grabbed Blaine's phone. Pausing, he gripped Blaine's wrist very tightly and shoved the vibrating plastic into his hand. He squeezed pushing Blaine's fingers hard into the mold. Blaine winced, and let a small gasp escape his lips.

"Excuse me for a moment." His dad threw his napkin on to the table as he walked out of the kitchen. It took Blaine a moment to unlock his fingers from the small object inside his palm.

He rolled his eyes. "Hello?"

"Hey Blaine, it's Quinn. Can you talk?" No.

"I'm actually in the middle of dinner…" I really don't like you.

"Oh. Should I call later?" Yes.

"No, it's fine. Did you need something?" Make it quick.

She paused for a moment on the other line, and spoke slowly drawing out every syllable in her sentence, "Want to come to Rachel's Halloween party with me this year?"

He bit his lip. "Uh…Sure?" It was a pained reply. He didn't mean for it to sound like a question.

"…as my date?"

"Your date? Um. Yeah. Yeah that sounds good." Blaine was starting to question his ability to think things through. When had he become so impulsive?

"Great! I'll talk to you about it tomorrow at school! See you then?" she put on a seductive tone, "Bye Blaine."

He hung up without a reply. His father had since situated himself back at the table, and was waiting for Blaine to tell him what had just happened.

"' 'Was Quinn. She asked me out."

His dad formed an amused look, and nodded with approval, "That's great, son. I just made a phone call myself in the kitchen."

Son? Blaine hadn't been referred to as his son in so long that the word sounded foreign. Was his dad actually trying? I don't know if I like this or not. They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. Feeling hopeful, Blaine pushed the conversation a little, "I miss her too, you know."

Blaine was eating his words before he could finish chewing. I fucked up. His father was looking at him as if he were the dirtiest thing he had ever seen. Blaine felt the tight restraints of something sharp wrapped around his heart.

"It's your fault, you know. It's your fault she's dead."

It was true; without him she would probably still be here. "…I know, dad."

"I wish you were never born."

"I know you do." He felt his heart breaking into a thousand pieces. Suddenly he wished he wasn't born either. His mood had somersaulted from hopeful to listless.

"I brought the priest home because I thought drastic measures were needed. Three schools, a car, and you still had your little issue! Should I have done that sooner? Obviously it was the right decision. I just need to know. Why now, Blaine?" His father was speaking scarily quiet, and low.

"W-why what?" Blaine was waiting for the punch to come.

"Were you just pretending to be queer so that you could rip this family apart? I bet you wanted your mother dead! I bet you laughed as she died. You forced her to do it. You forced her to die! You killed your mother!"

"N-no. I would nev-" A glass flew past his head and shattered on the island behind him. Blaine's chest felt like it was going to explode at the slightest touch.

"Get out of my sight, you worthless piece of shit."

Blaine ran up the stairs, and locked his door quickly as he fell into bed. He thought about his day, and wished he were at school. He wished he were at glee. When did school become his safe place? When did glee become his safe place? Frustrated he punched his fist into the mattress, and got out his molskine. Happy birthday, Blaine.

NOTE: Thanks for being patient guys, I just couldn't get this chapter right for some reason! Hope you stick with me on this one!