Dear readers,

So, because it's kind of late and brain is very tired, I'm going to keep this short: thanks to everyone whose read, reviewed...actually, you know how that part goes; it's just a huge thank you. My exams start next week so I'm going to be on a writing hiatus until they're over, which just makes the prospect of exams seem even worse because I'm pretty sure that I can't survive without writing for so long! Ah well, it'll be an interesting, scientific experiment.

To anyone else taking public examinations or whatever, I wish you the very best of luck in that, and I hope you all achieve what you're aiming for! Enjoy the chapter!

Sopphires.

"Being his real brother I could feel I live in his shadows, but I never have and I do not now. I live in his glow." ― Michael Morpurgo, Private Peaceful

Blaine's phone, radio and alarm clock went off simultaneously at nine o'clock. He groaned and rolled over in his bed, pressing his face into his soft pillow and wondering whether it would be at all possible to fall asleep again and not be murdered by all the members of his family. He decided it probably wasn't worth getting killed over and so reached over and turned off his phone and clock. That just left the radio playing Wham! at medium volume; that job required him to get out of bed. He waited for a couple of minutes until the song had transitioned into pointless chatter, and until no one had burst in to yell at him, and then dragged himself from his warm mound of blankets and stumbled over to the radio and turned it off. He let out an exaggerated groan and slumped against his desk, glad that he had awoken early enough to not be murdered but wishing that he had several hours more to lounge in bed.

For want of anything better to do, he picked up his mobile and saw that David had sent him even more pictures of his family (plus Wes) on Christmas day. It put a smile on his face to see Cassie delightfully tearing up paper with her podgy fists, far more entertained with that then her presents, and Johnny with his arms locked around his dad's neck, and Katy grinning as she proudly displayed all her new toys in their boxes, and Richie wearing a t-shirt with arrows pointing to Wes and David that came from a sign saying "world's best older brothers" and absolutely unconcerned by the fact that his older brothers looked nothing like him.

He felt another painful yearning inside of him at that, desperately wishing that he had had that kind of relationship with his older brother, and wondered what Cooper thought about that conversation last night. He wondered whether he would ever get pictures from his real – biological – brother of a happy family Christmas with smiling children. Maybe he would even be there in person to enjoy that. Maybe he would be there with his own children and a-

He cut his train of thought of, throwing the phone onto the bed and kicking at his desk chair. He threw his hands up to his face, pressing the heel of his palms over his eyes and digging his nails into the front of his scalp. He could not allow his mind to wonder in that direction because he knew exactly what lay there; an image of Kurt as his perfect, beautiful husband.

He groaned, running a hand through his messy, curly hair and flopping face down onto the bed, narrowly avoiding smashing his phone screen and causing himself to be murdered for a completely new reason. Why could he not get over Kurt? Kurt hated him because Blaine had severely hurt him (partially on purpose) and that was how their story ended. This was The End. The End had already happened! Why was he so stupid? Why was he a completely stupid, brain-dead, headless chicken of a-

"Blaine!" he was broken away from his increasingly bizarre insults as he banged his head into the mattress. He could hear something – someone, more likely – tapping against his door. Blaine pushed himself up, eyes narrowing because he had been a little bit preoccupied trying to bash his brains in to notice who it was at his door. No one made a move to come in, though, so he rolled his eyes, guessing that it was his mother because she was the only one likely not to barge into his room when he didn't response, and listened to someone creep down the stairs in a manner that suggested his dad was taken with the morning news.

Blaine heaved a huge sigh, trying to keep his mind away from the topic that was attempting to push its way to the forefront, and wondered over to his door. No matter how hard he tried, though, the fact that Kurt was still his ideal everything was something that would not go away. No matter how much effort he put into reminding himself that Kurt was so much better off without him and how he was no longer dragging Kurt down to the depths of his own murky despair, he could not get away from the fact that he was still completely in love with him. Still, after everything.

He tread down the stairs, making sure that his footsteps were light, and was mildly glad that he'd decided to crash out fully dressed because that took away the possibility for his dad to yell at him for wandering the house in his pyjamas; another stupid rule initiated by his dad in an attempt to curb his brother's teenage rebellion and then squash Blaine into the constricted mould that was apparently a heterosexual man.

However, that thought flew from his mind when he made it down into the hallway and saw that his brother was setting down his second case in the hall. Blaine frowned at the sight, heart thumping at the prospect of his older brother leaving because he was being no help at all at the moment, but he was still a valuable ally in the war that was silently raging in their household.

Cooper turned around with a grin on his face that was quite different from his normal show grin. Blaine stared at him blankly, not sure what was so great about Cooper standing in the hallway with his two large suitcases and shoulder bag sitting on the floor by his feet, clearly about to depart from the Anderson household and leave him alone to deal with his father's insults and his mother's compulsive need to do something whilst that happened and so sipped on wine.

"What's going on?" he demanded, dropping down off the final step so that his socked feet landed against the entrance and the cold of the tiles penetrated the cotton layer so that he shivered. Cooper ran a hand through his hair and shrugged, beckoning Blaine closer to him. Blaine moved silently down the hallway, half-listening to the sound of the weather man telling them that it was going to – shockingly – remain cold.

"I'm making a spur of the moment decision," said Cooper, and Blaine looked around his brother's luggage and then up at his brother's face, noting the more pronounced paleness and the bags beneath his eyes.

"Not that spur of the moment," he commented, under his breath, and Cooper rolled his eyes, seemingly effortlessly shrugging off Blaine's comment. Blaine bit down onto his bottom lip, turning his attention from the nerves that he was feeling, and tried to understand what that meant. His brother was leaving and presumably returning to LA far earlier than planned after a sleepless night, which implied – did it not? – that he was leaving because of said sleepless night which could have only been caused by their conversation ergo he was returning to go back because he'd changed his mind…right?

"Yeah," muttered Cooper, smirking as he tracked Blaine's realisation across his face. Blaine bit down on his bottom lip to repress his squeal, grin spreading over his face as he leapt forward to hug his older brother. Cooper stumbled slightly but patted his back in a reassuring manner.

Blaine could feel his insides reeling, the grin taking over his face now that he was sure he wasn't about to exclaim in delight, and his mind had ground to a halt. He could not believe that his brother had changed his mind. He had not expected what he'd said to have this big of an impact on his brother that quickly. He was excited over that because his mind was whirring into the future like it had only a couple of minutes again and picturing a little boy and/or girl with dark, curly hair and a wide grin that could sing and dance and was beautiful and kind and had everything on an emotional level that he and Cooper had been deprived of. However, he was also curious…very curious.

"Why?" he asked, letting go of his brother and looking up at him in a questioning manner. Cooper shrugged, slotting his hands into his jeans pockets.

"I don't know, Blaine," he said in a rather flat tone of voice. "I guess something that you really said finally got through to me." Cooper looked down at him, pursing his lips. "I suppose, I just understood that you really knew what you were talking about. I- I felt pretty bad for you when you were talking, you know? Figured you were talking from in there-" he reached forward to prod Blaine right where his heart was. Blaine rocked backward onto the heels of his feet as he gave him a small smile. "-and I reckoned that if there was ever time to take your advice now was probably it. After all, got to make all this shit count for something, right? I'm sick and tired of dealing with dad's narrow-minded shit, and the way he's always on his high – fucking – horse because he's a parent and so he knows so much more than us."

Blaine stared up at his older brother, face assuming a neutral expression as he sorted through all of the information that Cooper had thrown at him during that speech. He was feeling pretty proud of himself for finally getting through to Cooper, but he was also put a little bit on edge by how much he had given away to his older brother during their intense heart-to-heart yesterday. He wondered how much of what had happened to him Cooper could infer from their conversation…well, obviously not enough for him to guess what had happened, but Blaine reckoned he should keep his mouth firmly shut about him and Kurt for as long as possible, which probably wouldn't be hard. Also, was it just him or did it sound like Cooper was going back to spite his dad and shove something in his face?

"Okay…" he said, slowly, still gathering his thoughts and trying to work out what he should say that was slightly more profound than that. "but, Coop, what you said about dad and him knowing more than us. I agree with you, I really do, but I- don't do something just because of dad…I mean- don't- don't do this to spite him, okay? That's not a good reason." Cooper shuffled his feet a little bit at that, biting down on the inside of his cheek in thought.

"I don't- I'm not- I don't think that's it, Blaine. I mean; yeah, I want to shove it in his face that I could be a better dad even though, apparently, I've been a shit son, but also…" he sighed, shoulders sagging as he pulled a face. "Do you remember when dad gave you The Speech about, you know…" Blaine screwed up his face at the reminder of a particularly painful memory. "Right, well, this is actually something dad would do; staying. You know, dad's a complete douche, but even he'd never do what I was prepared to do, you know? All his stuff about duty and everything suddenly sounded a lot less hypocritical when you put it in my context." Blaine looked down at his socked feet, wiggling his toes absentmindedly as he nodded. "And, well, I thought staying would make me worse than dad, but…he'd stay, for better or for worse, because that's his responsibility. I just- I just don't want to ever be a worse person than him, Blaine. I don't think I could bare that." Blaine sniffed heavily, eyes stinging painfully, and looked up at his abnormally serious looking big brother.

"I know," he whispered, giving him a small smile from the corners of his mouth because that overwhelming fear of turning into the man in their front room was something that both of them experienced on a daily basis. It was worse for himself, Blaine reckoned, because there had been a time – so many, many years ago – when his dad had been a real dad to him; he'd taken Blaine to park and come to his sports days, and it was painful to think about how that man had turned into his worst enemy with one confession…well, not his worst enemy anymore, he supposed that Eli had to take that spot now.

"Boys, you do know that it is customary to-" their dad's angry rant was cut short as he stormed out into the hall, glare firmly in place. The annoyed look on his face turned into one of complete and utter fury as he took in the luggage in the hallway. Blaine gulped slightly, painfully aware of how watery his eyes were, and shuffled a little bit closer to Cooper for some form of protection. "What is this?" demanded his dad, voice dropping in volume as the anger inside of him flared. Their mother came padding out into the hallway, eyes wide and fearful, and stopped dead when she saw the fact that one of her son's was clearly intent on leaving the house.

"Shit," muttered Cooper under his breath, and Blaine suddenly understood that Cooper had planned to take the cowardly way out and sneak off without telling their parents after his conversation with Blaine was over…well, Blaine had already used up his miracle working skills on his brother with the baby; cowardice in the face of their father was something Blaine could deal with at a later date.

"So, I do have to start making phone calls after all." Blaine blinked at his dad for a moment, brow furrowing, before he realised that his dad thought that Blaine was leaving as opposed to Cooper.

"No," snapped Cooper, kicking one of his suitcases out of the way so that he could square up to their parents by Blaine's side. "I'm leaving." There was a mildly shocked pause in which Blaine saw his mum's face slacken in shock whilst his dad looked mildly taken aback for a second or two before resuming a slightly less-aggressive-more-disapproving expression. Blaine supposed that Cooper's strange behaviour this entire holiday didn't make this overly surprising.

"And why is that?" Cooper shrugged, trying to pull off a nonchalant air that wasn't being bought by anybody in the hallway. "Tell me what makes you think that you can just come and go as you please in my house."

"Err, the fact that I'm an adult," said Cooper, shrugging and pulling a face, and Blaine knew that Cooper was simply aggravating their dad with his "you're so stupid" tone of voice. "and that I paid for the plane tickets last night – from my own money, before you get onto your spiel about your money and whatever – and I didn't do that for fun." There was a stony silence in which Blaine watched as his dad glared at his brother whilst his brother smirked at his dad and his mum stood there biting onto her bottom lip and not daring to speak.

"Is there a particular reason for your departure after you informed us that you would be remaining until New Year, or are you still an immature teenager?" Cooper rolled his eyes, and Blaine looked up at his brother, wondering why he was stalling the delivery of news that would really please their parents. Cooper sighed when their gazes met and then shrugged.

"Fine. I got my girlfriend pregnant, and so I came home to spend Christmas here to clear my head, and now I'm going back again." Their mother gasped, eyes widening and face lighting up in delight, whilst their father narrowed his eyes, head jutting backwards and clearly properly taken aback this time.

"Cooper that's wonderful!" exclaimed his mum, when their dad remained in silence, and she rushed forward to hug him. Cooper pulled a face – Blaine would hazard a guess that he'd mentally misjudged their reactions in his head – and then embraced the smaller woman. "Why didn't you say something earlier?" she demanded, drawing back from him but withdrawing from her shell properly. "Why didn't you invite her here?"

"Because he ran away," said their father in a tone of voice that was surprisingly neutral coming from him. Blaine looked over at him and saw that his eyes were un-narrowing as their mother stood to the side, holding onto Cooper's lower arm. "but now you're going back." Cooper nodded, and their father nodded once before striding forward, forcing Blaine to step aside as he shook Cooper's hand. "I have to admit that I'm proud of you for that." Blaine bit down on the inside of his lip, stepping backwards and away from the closed family unit that didn't include him, feeling both incredibly sad and mutedly happy for Cooper. "For once, you've managed to turn back onto the road after taking a wrong turning. I hope you have plans on marrying her. You have a duty to this child to give it a proper family and home, and, of course, me and your mother will be there to help you, but I think it's best to start with your child's mother."

"Yeah, no thanks," said Cooper, snorting, pulling his hand from his dad's and stepping back, shaking his head with an incredulous expression on his face. "I appreciate this…fucking weird gesture, but no. There is no way I am taking parenting advice from you, and no way am I letting you near my kid." Blaine's face dropped into a frown, eyes going wide as he tried to beam to Cooper, as they made eye contact, that he should not be throwing away their dad's apparent friendship. Cooper simply smirked, and Blaine watched his dad's eyes dart to Blaine in a calculating manner. "What about your duty to Blaine?" demanded Cooper, eyebrow arching. "Huh? You just told me that I have a duty to my child, what about your duty to your child?"

Blaine felt his entire body tense as three pairs of eyes stared at him whilst an oppressive silence reigned. His mum looked skittish by the immediate change of atmosphere. His dad had a very dark look in his eyes, silently blaming him for Cooper's words, which wouldn't really be an unfair thing to do. Cooper just looked resolute, and Blaine tried to tell him that he wasn't worth it – that there was no point trying – but he knew that Cooper wasn't listening to him. Cooper was a stubborn idiot most of the time.

"How many times are we going to go through this?" replied his dad, coldly, once more. "Blaine is not my son. He stopped being my son a very long time ago." Blaine had heard the words so many times; too many times, but even now it still hurt. He felt them punching him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him and sending his mind reeling. His eyes were stinging even more painfully than before. He clenched his jaw and tried – really tried – to keep his composure.

"Yeah, and that's what makes you such an imbecile. You're so narrow-minded that you can't see that Blaine is the best person in this house, no offence mum." Blaine stared at his brother, feeling his eyes widen immeasurably, shocked by where this was all coming from. "You said you knew that I'd changed my mind, well you wanna know who made me change it? Blaine. He was the one that forced it into my head that family can actually mean something because Blaine and me – we're a family…and you too, mum, most of the time. I would be proud – so fucking proud – if my kid grew up to be half the person Blaine is because even when we're all jackasses to him, he loves us. You are so goddamn lucky to have that because I don't love you dad, but he does. It's too late for me, I'm not changing my mind, but it's not too late with Blaine because Blaine will wait forever for you to say that you love him too. So just say it. Get it out of your head that being gay changed Blaine it all, open your fucking eyes and eat your words."

"Don't think you can tell me what to do, Cooper," said their father, stepping back with an icy tone to his voice that was much more normal. "you may be an adult, and soon to be a father, but you have a lot to learn. Blaine made his choice, and he has to pay the price for that."

"No, you made your choice, and don't tell me you that you gave him chances to prove you wrong because all you did there was push and prod to see if you could find the person that you wanted him to be. You were trying to make him into someone because you lost control of me, and then you lost control of your other son too. This was never about rebellion with either of us, you prat, and even if it was it would have been your fault. When was the last time that you told him you loved him?" There was a very long silence. Blaine, whose mouth had been hanging open like his mum's, closed his mouth and tried to think to the answer to that. It was clear his dad didn't know either. When had it been? He couldn't- nothing came to his mind. His dad had told him he was proud of him, but never that he actually loved him. He didn't think he could remember that. "Point proven," snapped Cooper. Cooper shot Blaine one last smile, squeezed his mum's hand before snatching up his bags and storming from the house.

"Cooper!" cried their mother and dashed after him. There was a second of silence as his dad's gaze swung to him, and then Blaine bolted from the hall and up to his bedroom, the sight of his dad's furious eyes burned into the insides of his eyelids and feeling very deeply afraid; his brother might have tried to do good, but Blaine had the terrifyingly sickening feeling that he had just made things a lot worse.

Blaine stayed walled his room for as much as he physically could for the rest of his time at home. Luckily, his dad's idea of punishment for whatever had happened with Cooper seemed to be being banished to his bedroom so his plan worked out pretty well. His dad also spent a large deal of his time shut away in his study whilst his mum worked on her blackberry like the world of banking would collapse if she turned it off or set it down.

He also stayed relatively out of touch with his friends because he didn't want to wreck their holidays; Wes and David's was going swimmingly, Nick and Jeff seemed to have hashed out a ceasefire for the rest of their time at home, Thad was pretty happy and readjusted at home, Trent was enjoying some time with his older brothers and Sebastian's parents had gone to France, which left Sebastian in a frighteningly good mood. The New Directions, too, were having good Christmases and New Years', and he couldn't bring himself to darken that at all with his family problems, especially when his dad hadn't actually said anything to him since the fight he'd had in the hallway with Cooper.

Cooper contacted him daily, and most of the time, Blaine was given blow-by-blow accounts of how he and Stephanie were fighting, and how she was pissed (for understandable reasons) and Cooper was pissed at her for being pissed, and her parents didn't like him one bit (also understandably) and how that all sucked. Occasionally, Cooper would remember to ask how he was and such, and Blaine would give him as short as reply as possible that was meant to deter him, but obviously didn't. They would then descend into a sort of argument about being honest and such, which would then lead to the thing about Blaine and Kurt and the things that Blaine wasn't telling him. Blaine had had to restrain himself from shouting on several occasions because Cooper just couldn't take a hint, and he would be flattered and heartened by his brother's attempts to be a good big brother, but it just left him irritated. Almost every time, Blaine just ended up snapping down the phone – at some point or another – that if Cooper had been nicer to him than Blaine might be slightly more partial to talking to him, which led to a very long, awkward silence before Blaine caved and apologised. Then they'd change track onto stuff like Warblers and music and TV programmes which were a hell of a lot less likely to send them into serious rows that would leave them both in deep emotional pain – well, Blaine at any rate, he couldn't speak for the in-rehab Cooper.

Conversations with Cooper tended to leave him drained so he'd lie in bed, laptop on legs, headphones plugged into ears, and watching whatever he deemed most distracting that evening. Some of the time, he watched videos from David's, but there were days when they simply left him more depressed because things with Cooper had gotten better only for stuff with his dad to nosedive into the depths of crap from when he'd first come out. Things hadn't been that bad in a very long time, and that was kind of saying something because it had not been good when he'd broken the news about Kurt and had been going to McKinley. Other times, he just watched music videos, and when he was feeling particularly sad and nostalgic, he'd flick through the photos on his computer, both of him and Kurt and the old ones he'd scanned in from when he was little with his dad; him and his dad at a Football game, baseball game, army of toys – cars, little green men, Lego – and school awards.

It was a seriously depressing past time for him to take up, and every time he looked at the photos, he wracked his brain to try and see if he could remember that last time when his dad had told him he loved him. Nothing came to him, though. Not a single stilled memory that he had could jog his own, and it left him questioning whether his dad had ever said it to him at all. That thought tended to end with him hunched over, face pressed into his knees and almost in tears. He'd fist his hand into his loose curls – he was too tired to bother gelling it – and fighting to stop himself from breaking down completely because he didn't understand why his dad wouldn't have loved him when he was little. He had been a good kid, hadn't he? He hadn't talked back that much…well, not when Cooper hadn't egged him on to do it, and then Cooper had always taken the rap because his parents had seen straight through Cooper's faux-innocent façade.

It was painful to think about that – to wonder whether there was something fundamentally wrong with him that meant there was a good reason for his dad not loving him – and he longed every single day for New Year to come so that he would only have a couple more days to struggle through until he needed to be back at Dalton where he would be buried in school work, Warblers and friends and not have to think about his dad. Blaine had struck a bargain with his dad, and he knew that he probably deserved it for demanding his parents to pay for private school when he could survive in public ones.

So when the new year did come, Blaine managed to welcome it in with a small smile on his face as he watched fireworks light the sky from his position sat on his desk, leaning against the window so that his cheek almost pressed against the freezing glass. It made him feel kind of like a child again when he closed his eyes and wished on all the fake stars that were shooting through the sky – one's made by the potentially warm hearts of man – that this year would be kinder to them: he wished for his dad to open his eyes a little, he wished for his mum to not be scared, he wished for a beautiful baby for Cooper, he wished for David's family to stay perfect, he wished for Trent to keep steering them straight at Dalton, he wished for Nick and Jeff to never, ever break up, he wished for Sebastian to never change, he wished for Wes and David to never stop being his brilliant big brothers, he wished for Thad to finally find some peace and love, he wished that Kurt would find everlasting happiness and love…oh, and he wished that he, himself, could keep finding those little reasons to smile every single day.

Blaine zipped up his final suitcase and straightened his tie as he glanced into the mirror, noting that it had previously been at a strange angle. He had somehow managed to weasel himself into going back a day earlier, but he reckoned that that was because his dad had also decided he was going back to work a day earlier, which meant his mum could too so it worked out well for all of them. He picked the suitcase up from the bed and checked his texts. Sebastian was already back at Dalton and complaining that all the other people that were there were annoying imbeciles; Blaine didn't know whether to be exasperated or flattered at that.

Either way, Blaine was glad to be returning, even if it meant dealing with Sebastian's whining, and so he heaved his suitcase down the stairs with an unusual spring in his step. He could hear his dad marching around upstairs, gathering together all his various documents, and his mum was in the kitchen, blackberry in one hand and- and a wine glass in the other. Blaine set down his case and bit down on the inside of his lip. He'd refrained from interfering with his mum for the entire holiday, but that was getting way out of hand. It had only been like that in the run up to his first transfer to Dalton.

"Mum," he said, moving down the hallway and into the kitchen. His mum jolted just a little bit before setting down the wine glass and checking the time.

"Is this about anything in particular, Blaine?" she asked, looking down the hall to check that his dad wasn't coming down the stairs. "Your father said that he would run me into work, and I don't think he means that in quite the same way as he used to. I'd rather not start a fight." Blaine bit down on the inside of his lip and looked down.

"No, I just-" his eyes fell onto the wine glass. "just…why?" His mother followed his gaze before closing his eyes and letting out a long sigh.

"Blaine," she said, softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "you have so much to deal with right now, so please let me shelter you for once." Blaine frowned up at her in confusion, trying to understand what that meant.

"Mum, does dad- does he…has he hurt you?" he asked, hesitantly, filled with fear and dread. His mother's eyes darkened, and she shook her head furiously.

"Blaine, your father is a severely faulted man, but he's not a bad one. I have problems with him, with Cooper, with you, with my own parents, with my siblings, at work…you know how that feels. It just blunts some of those edges…Let me keep some of that from you. Let me be your mother, for once, and let me shelter you." She reached forward and before Blaine knew it his mum had kissed his forehead and walked past him. Blaine continued to frown into their kitchen, confused and touched, and his dad came down the stairs.

"Blaine, your bedroom window is open; close it." Blaine, who had been about to touch his forehead, frowned even more, spinning around and retracting his head on his neck, thoroughly confused because his bedroom window was definitely not open. Why would he open the window? It was frickin' January.

Still, he knew better than to argue with his dad and so darted past his parents, who were preparing themselves for the freezing cold outside, and up the stairs. He crashed into his bedroom, somehow getting his feet in a muddle, and was hit with a blast of cold air. He gasped, drawing in his shoulders and shivering, and hurried over to slam it shut, wondering why his dad had opened it. His answer lay on the desk: a little model car sitting on top of a photograph. Frowning even more; this morning was turning out to be seriously weird, he picked them both up and raised them to eye level.

The car was a little red model Chevrolet '59; longer than most of his other toy cars with its ridiculous flat, wing-like tailfins, low headlights and cat-eye tail lights. He felt a tiny smile curve onto his lips at the sight of it, hit with a powerful nostalgia of running up and down the halls in his socked feet, slipping and sliding, and making overenthusiastic fake car noises. He remembered it being one of his favourite toy cars, though he couldn't quite remember…

He glanced at the picture for explanation and saw something that he had previously forgotten, that had been buried away for some many years: there was a mini version of himself with a mess of curls planted atop of his head as he stood, proudly in front of said red Chevy in some car museum, and crouched by his side, hands on shoulders and smiling face just next to his, was his dad.

…"When I grow up I want to drive that car!"…

…"No, you made your choice, and don't tell me you that you gave him chances to prove you wrong because all you did there was push and prod to see if you could find the person that you wanted him to be…When was the last time that you told him you loved him?"…

…"Here you go, kiddo; one model until you're old enough to drive."

"Thank you, daddy, I love you!"...

Heart thumping loudly and painfully, he ran from the room as he heard the front door open, people shuffle out and then close. His feet slammed into the stairs as he ran down, crashing between the wall and the bannister in his haste. He skipped the last three steps so that he could land against the hall, ankles jarring, and he ran to the front door, throwing it open and not caring about the freezing cold hitting him. He saw his dad's car pull out of the drive, and he slumped against the doorframe in defeat, staring out into the snow covered drive and the car that was speeding away from him.

"I love you too, Blaine."…