A/N: I can't write angst. I'm just physically incapable. But I'm trying to overcome that, so bear with me. Practice makes perfect, or so it is said.

Warning: mentions of violence and offensive/homophobic language.

Shame.

That was a word Blaine had heard often after he had come out to his parents.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, allowing your hormones to ruin our family."

"You're a disgrace, a faggot. You are no son of mine!"

"It's a shame," his father had said sadly, "I thought you would be the successful one."

Blaine shook the words from his mind. It had been years since the words were said, but that didn't lessen the hurt they caused.

He had been ashamed, at first. He had taken his parent's words to heart because what teen doesn't? He had just accepted the fact that he would always be on the defense where the world was concerned, and he had thought he could count on his parents for some kind of support. But even they had said there was something wrong with him, something immoral about the person he was. If his parents felt that way, then where could he ever find refuge? If his own home provided no shelter from hate, then where could he turn?

School was a hell of its own, at least until he was transferred to Dalton. At his public school, the one where he was nearly beaten to death by ignorant jocks, there had been only one other out boy. The two became friends because of this commonality and Blaine realized then that there was nothing wrong with himself, but with the world around him. The transfer to Dalton only cemented this belief. Wes, David, Nick, Jeff, Thad… they had all taken his confession of homosexuality in stride. It wasn't abnormal to them, just a facet of the person he was. Why couldn't everyone else in the world understand? Why did hate and ignorance have to exist?

"In this world, people fear what they don't understand," Cooper had said once, back when he and Blaine were close. "And since they fear it, they don't try to understand it."

Blaine had never forgotten those words, because they were the only words that had ever made sense. That was where the words homophobic came from after all, fear. Fear of what, Blaine wasn't exactly sure. Did they think he would rape them? Did they think being gay was an infectious disease that a person could catch simply by being nearby? None of that was true.

Blaine looked into his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Tear stains streaked his cheeks from where he had allowed tears to flow earlier with no intention of stemming them. He was a man, and men didn't cry. But here, alone in what had become a sort of sanctuary over the years, he didn't have to worry about being judged for his thoughts or actions. He cried for the boy he used to be, the friend he had lost, the thousands upon thousands of others in the world who were going through something similar or worse simply because of who they loved.

It wasn't a choice. He didn't wake up one morning and say, "I think I'm going to be gay. I want to be hated for no reason and be nearly beaten to death. Sounds fun." That was something he still laughed bitterly about whenever the memory came back at night. It happened less often than in the immediate days after the attack, but it still haunted him sometimes.

But now things had gotten better.

Now he had Kurt. He had Burt and Finn and Wes and David and Thad and Nick and Jeff and the tentative friendships with the members of the New Directions. He had a rock-hard faith in who he was and what he stood for. He was no longer a scared little boy, but a happy, confident man.

A soft knock sounded on the door before it slowly creaked open. Blaine hurriedly wiped his cheeks and nose with the sleeve of his shirt. Only one person had the privilege of seeing Blaine this way, so he wasn't worried about how red his nose was or how bloodshot his eyes were. He knew Kurt wouldn't care about any of that.

Two warms arms wrapped him up in a comforting embrace and Blaine allowed himself to fall into his boyfriend's arms. He sniffled one last time before a long sigh escaped his lips.

"Are you going to be okay, sweetheart?" Kurt asked as he soothingly rubbed his hands up and down Blaine's arms and back.

Blaine merely nodded. No words were necessary. The couple had held each other like this multiple times in the middle of night: when one had had a nightmare, when the other just needed to feel safe, or when the world became too much. They knew there was no judgment, only love.

"Let's go back to bed," he whispered.

The two men slipped back into bed and fell asleep cuddled closely together. Blaine's final thought before he slipped into the welcoming darkness was a simple one: I love you, Kurt Hummel.