Author's Note: I am so sorry for the unannounced hiatus. The last couple months of school just got too hectic so I made the decision to leave off writing until the summer. Then I jumped straight into work and found that getting back into my stories was pretty difficult after not having worked with them for two or three months. My updates will still be slower and less regular than any of us would like, I'm sure, but they will keep coming until this story is complete.

-SQ

Disclaimer: Disclaimed

Chapter Thirty-Six: Coming Clean

"Hey, kiddo, can I come in?"

Blaine lifted his head slightly from Finn's pillow, contemplating whether or not to respond.

"I know you're awake, Blaine. You have thirty seconds to make sure you have clothes on."

Scowling, but realizing that Burt wasn't messing around, Blaine sat up, threw the covers off hims legs, and ran a hand through his messy curls. "I already have clothes on, Mr. Hummel."

"Good," said Burt, opening the door. He went to close it behind him, but upon seeing Blaine's shoulders tense, thought better of it and left it slightly ajar. "As you should be while in either of my sons' beds." He pulled up Finn's desk chair beside the bed and sat down. "How's it going, Blaine?"

Blaine shrugged.

"I heard you've been dealing with some tough stuff."

"Not as tough as Kurt."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that."

Blaine lifted his head to look at Kurt's father. How much did he know? "I don't mean any disrespect, Mr. Hummel, but I don't see that this has anything to do with you."

"And I don't mean any disrespect, Blaine, but that is where you are wrong; because if it has something to do with my son, it automatically has something to do with me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Blaine stubbornly.

"I think you do," said Burt. "You have a better idea than any of us about what Kurt is going through right now. "That Brian kid, your dad—"

Blaine leapt to his feet as though he had been stung. "Leave my father out of this!"

"Blaine," said Burt, "calm down. We want to help you."

"You can't help me!" shouted Blaine. "I was doing fine until everyone stuck their noses into my personal life!"

"From what I can see," said Burt, "your friends haven't done nearly as much nose sticking as they should have, considering you're still living with your parents."

"I am fine! Kurt is in the hospital, not me! He's your kid, not me! Worry about him!"

"I am worrying about him!" said Burt, raising his voice. "I'm worrying that the one person who might be able to get through to him won't help him because it involves admitting to his own problems!"

"Mr. Hummel," said Blaine through clenched teeth, "it may have escaped your attention, but Kurt hasn't wanted anything to do with me for the past several weeks. Ever since he found out about my 'own problems,' in fact, so I really think you are barking up the wrong tree here."

"And if I'm not?" said Burt quietly. "If you talking to him would help but you refuse to go? I know I'm grasping at straws here, son, but what else have I got?"

Blaine rubbed his hands over his face and grabbed his jacket off the chair. "Take me to the fucking hospital."

*****BB*****

Blaine was a thrumming ball of nerves by the time he and Burt reached the hospital. Much to the bemusement of the older man, he had insisted upon bringing his guitar. It was more as a kind of security blanket than anything else, but as he ran his fingers over the hard leather of the case, the opening chords of a song began playing in his head, and its relevance to the situation was undeniable. He realized that he had a better chance of communicating what he wanted to say through song than by talking. Probably a better chance of getting Kurt to listen to him too.

In the car Burt had told him about how Finn had gone to Carole and Carole had come to him. At first Blaine had been pissed. He had demanded that Burt turn the car around right then and take him home. But Burt had told him no, he wasn't going home. Not then and not ever, if he and Carole had anything to say about it. Blaine was still digesting this latest development when they arrived at the hospital.

"Kurt?" said Burt, sticking his head into his son's room. "Kurt, buddy, there's someone here to see you."

"I don't want to answer any questions," said Kurt.

"You won't have to answer any questions," said Burt. "It's not that kind of someone."

"Dad, I really don't feel up to visitors."

"You're going to have to have them at some point kid," said Burt. "And now is as good a time as any. People are worried about you." He stepped back and gave Blaine a little push into the room.

Kurt had been expecting Mercedes or Rachel or Tina, perhaps all three of them, or maybe Finn again. Even Wes and David or some of the other Warblers. He had not been expecting Blaine. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. It came out sounding accusatory, though that hadn't been his intention.

"I wanted to see how you were doing. Is that…okay?"

"Um, yeah," said Kurt, pushing himself upright in his bed. "I just didn't expect to see you?" Blaine continued to hover awkwardly in the doorway. "Um…sit down?" For some reason everything both of them said was coming out sounding like a question.

Blaine perched himself gingerly on the edge of the chair. "I'm sorry we didn't get there sooner," he blurted.

"No, no, I'm really lucky you got there at all."

There was a lengthy silence.

"You brought your guitar?" Back to sounding like a question.

"Uh, yeah, it's kind of like a security blanket." Blaine chuckled nervously.

"Oh." Was it Blaine's imagination, or did Kurt's face fall slightly? "I thought maybe you were going to sing for me."

"I can if you want me to," said Blaine. "I mean…I kind of did have a song in mind."

Kurt shrugged. In truth, he very much wanted Blaine to sing for him, but he hardly thought he was in any position with the other boy to request it.

Taking Kurt's silent shrug as a gesture of acquiescence, Blaine removed his guitar from its case and balanced it on his lap. "I've just got to tune it," he mumbled apologetically. "Haven't played it in a bit…" He fiddled with the pegs until the sound was right and then took a deep breath. "I'm not warmed up or anything, but…" he shrugged in an unconscious imitation of Kurt and began.

"I'm a coward

I hide behind all of these delicate lies that I sing

But I'm trying to come clean.

"I'm so lonely

Surrounded by people that know me but don't know a thing

So I'm trying to come clean.

"And every relationship I've ever been in

Has fallen apart at the seams

And I'm just afraid I've been singing about love

But I'll never find out what it means.

"And if I was honest about what the problem is

I'd have to admit that it's me

I'm just trying to live up to all that you want me to be."

"You're Blaine, you don't cry!"

"You're not perfect, but neither am I."

"It's times like these when I have a hard time remembering you're not perfect."

"He's usually really cool and collected. He's Blaine."

"He's not like that."

"He is really sweet and compassionate."

"Just be aware, okay? No one is perfect."

Blaine is perfect

"He's not a jerk."

I have the best boyfriend in the world.

"You're wonderful."

"I'm wonderful?"

"Yes, you're perfect."

"I'm not perfect."

"Yes, you are."

"That's what happened. Blaine told me so."

"Blaine wouldn't do that. Don't be ridiculous."

"Blaine's not lying to me, you are!"

Blaine wouldn't lie to him.

"I'm a liar

I sing pretty things but I never quite say what I mean

So I'm trying to come clean.

"I'm so sorry

I know that I can't take it back, no I can't change a thing

So I'm trying to come clean.

"And every relationship I've ever been in

Has fallen apart at the seams

And I'm just afraid I've been singing about love

But I'll never find out what it means.

"And if I was honest about what the problem is

I'd have to admit that it's me

I'm just trying to live up to all that you want me to be.

"And I'm sorry that I didn't tell you everything earlier, but I hadn't told anyone. I was trying to tough it out and move on and help you and I didn't think you needed all of my baggage to deal with in addition to your own. It really isn't something that's easy to talk about."

"I know," said Kurt. "At least I know better now than I did before. About not wanting to talk about stuff."

"Yeah," said Blaine. "The thing is, Kurt, I did talk about it, after you found my box, with Finn and Wes and David, I kind of had to. And you know what, it helped. And I don't just mean in some wishy-washy physiological way, although there's that too. It actually helped. Because now your dad…your dad says I don't have to go back and live with my parents anymore. He's going to get CPS and the cops involved if he has to, and that scares the shit out of me, but it's out of my hands now and that feels strangely…liberating. Kurt, you've got to talk to the police. Please. You can still me mad at me, I don't care, but you can't let those thugs get away with what they did to you, for making you feel like this. You don't let people walk all over you, Kurt, that's my arena."

Kurt looked at the boy sitting next to him, the boy how had been his prince, his knight in shining armor, and realized that none of that had changed. Blaine was still Blaine, he wasn't perfect and he did cry, but he was still wonderful and sweet and compassionate and not a jerk, and yes, maybe Blain had lied to him some, but not nearly as much as Kurt had lied to himself. And he had been through things that Kurt couldn't even imagine. Blaine had been his Superman for long enough; it was time for Kurt to return the favor.

"Blaine, I am so, so sorry for the way I've treated you these past weeks. I saw that box, realized how far in over my head I was, and just panicked. I was scared of losing you, scared that either your dad would hurt you or you would hurt yourself or that I just didn't know you anymore, that you weren't my Blaine. I had built this ridiculous knight-in-shining armor image of you up in my head and I wasn't ready to let go of it. And I didn't see any of the stuff for long enough to really process… At first when I saw another boy's name in that notebook I thought you'd been cheating on me—"

"What?" said Blaine. "No! Kurt, Brian was way before I even knew you. You're about a million times better boyfriend than he was. "

"So you're not still seeing him?"

"Kurt, he outted me to my dad and beat me up!"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. And you…you didn't just date me so you could have a boyfriend?"

"Kurt, I just dated Brian to have a boyfriend, and it was one of the worst decisions I've ever made. I dated you because I fell for you. Hard. Do you have any idea how scary that was for me after my previous experiences?"

"No," said Kurt truthfully, "I don't. And I didn't do a very good job trying to imagine it. Blaine, after you sang Kryptonite at rehearsal, I couldn't get the stupid thing out of my head. I had just made up my mind to find you first thing on Monday and ask you to explain what all that stuff in the box really meant when those creeps jumped me."

"I'll explain now," offered Blaine. "I'll explain anything you want. On one condition."

"What?" said Kurt warily.

"You agree to talk to the police about your attack."

Kurt bit his lip and then nodded slowly. "Alright. I think I can do that."

Blaine smiled slightly. "Oh, I know you can."

AN: The song is Chase Coy's Coming Clean. I discovered it through Pandora and decided right away that a) I love Chase Coy and b) It was perfect for Blaine for this story. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed the chapter in spite of the delay, and that you haven't forgotten how to review in my absence ;)

-SQ