Hey everyone.

I don't even know what to say after the last chapter, you guys sure know how to react to a heartbreaking scene! Thank you for all your comments, both the angry ones and the not so angry ones. Bear with me while we patch things up again, okay?

There's just one thing I need to address, and it's the comments in which people said Kurt was just as bad as Gabriel. Of course we all love Blaine and think he deserves better, but please don't forget that Kurt was in an abusive relationship for eight years, and during those eight years he was humilliated, insulted and abused in every way a human being can be abused, on a daily basis. Kurt is in the wrong here, of course, leaving Blaine completely heartbroken, but he is nowhere near as bad as Gabriel. I hope in the next few chapters, everyone will see that as clearly as I do.

Hugs and love to Christine, as always, for her hard work.

Sometimes when people (Kurt) weren't looking, Burt would sneak into the kitchen and grab a snack he wasn't really allowed to have. He wouldn't eat too much – just enough to satisfy his craving without putting his heart at risk. He didn't have a death wish; he just had a chips wish.

He was hiding the empty bag in the bottom of the trash so Carole wouldn't find it when she woke up, getting ready to head back into bed and get a few more hours of sleep, when the sound of an engine caught his attention. Instead of heading towards the stairs, he moved to the window and took a little peek outside, surprised when he saw his truck had just been parked in the driveway.

He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall – it was almost four in the morning. Why was Kurt home in the middle of the night?

He watched for a moment as his son got out of the truck and then headed to the backseat to gather Finn into his arms, who was asleep. Heart beating out of tune (maybe he shouldn't have eaten those chips, after all), he hurried to the front door, opening just as Kurt reached it.

Kurt startled, clearly not expecting his father to be up. And Burt stopped, clearly not expecting Kurt to look as miserable as he did in that moment. His eyes were red, as if he had been crying, shadowed by dark marks under them. He seemed exhausted.

For a moment, as Burt stared at him, he could almost see that defeated, beaten man who had stood at this same door almost a year ago. All that was missing was the bruises.

"What happened?" He asked.

Kurt's arms tightened around Finn. He took a deep breath. "I need to put Finn to bed," he said.

"Kurt..." Burt began to say, but his son shook his head.

"Dad, please. I need to put Finn to bed," he insisted, and he sounded on the edge of tears.

Burt moved aside to let him in, and watched as he marched up the stairs. He followed him, quietly, and then leaned in the doorway as Kurt carefully laid Finn down, kissed his forehead, and lingered there for a moment, like he was trying to draw strength from his son, or maybe like he had used every last bit of his energy just to get him home.

Burt was so, so confused.

He waited as patiently as he could until Kurt finally straightened up and turned to walk back out of the room. He closed the door behind himself and allowed himself a second to rest his weight on it, as if the exhaustion was getting to him.

"Kurt..." Burt muttered yet again, but Kurt shook his head.

"Dad, I need to go to bed," he said brokenly.

Here was the thing about Burt Hummel: he would always take a step aside and let Kurt whatever he thought was best, he could be patient with him when he was healing from the horrible experiences he had gone through, even if that meant he couldn't even give him a hug, and god, Burt didn't wish that on any parent, not to be able to just embrace your kid when they're going through hell. He would always respect his son's wishes and decisions, even when he didn't understand them. He had fought for Kurt's right to be whoever he wanted to be, to love whoever he wanted to love. And, just like Kurt had learned to be a shield for his little boy, Burt would always be ready to protect him, even if it killed him.

But what he wasn't willing to do, was to let Kurt hide behind his old walls, take a million steps back, and become the broken man he had been that morning he came knocking at their front door.

"No," Burt said firmly. "Come down to the kitchen with me."

Kurt parted his lips as if ready to protest, and then simply let out a long, agonizing breath, like he couldn't even bother to argue anymore. He followed Burt back down the stairs.

They sat at the kitchen table, and Burt really hated to be back here again, with a sullen, miserable Kurt sitting there like he had just been given a death sentence. He could understand why Kurt had looked like that when he escaped from the life he'd had with Gabriel back in New York. He couldn't understand why he looked like this now, when he had been supposed to be having a good time with Blaine...

He hated that the thought crossed his mind. Because... no. There was no way in hell.

But he had to ask.

"Did Blaine...?" It made him feel sick. Polite, gentle, kind-hearted Blaine, who thought the world started and ended with Kurt, who had raised the most adorable little girl in the universe. He wouldn't. He hadn't. Burt realized he couldn't ask it directly. He shifted the words around in his head until he could ask something that made sense, at least to start. "Are you hurt?"

Kurt saw right through him, understood exactly what he was asking, and he looked at his father completely horrified. "God, dad, no. How could you think...?"

Burt sighed in heavy relief. "I didn't. I don't. But Kurt... you look like you did all those months ago. I had to ask."

Kurt's jaw was set so tense, it looked like it hurt. He didn't look at his father when he said: "Blaine's nothing like Gabriel."

"I know he isn't," Burt said, leaning a little across the table to take a better look at him. "I'm just trying to understand why you would drive clearly upset in the middle of the night with your kid in the backseat. It had to have been something truly awful."

Kurt breathed – slowly, like every inhale was a struggle. He held his own hands, knuckles white, on top of the table. At last he said: "Blaine told me he loves me."

Burt's first instinct would have been to smile, and then probably snort, because this was no news to him at all. Anyone who looked at Blaine Anderson knew exactly what he was feeling instantly. He had been in love with Kurt since he was still a kid and, despite everything they had gone through, that hadn't changed at all. In fact, Burt sometimes thought, when he looked at them together, that it had even grown stronger recently – that's usually what happens with young love as it matures: the fairy tale goes away when the harsh realities of life take center stage instead, but if you really, really love someone, your bond is strengthened by the strife, by the obstacles that are in your way. You choose to run towards the person who makes you feel safe, supported, who makes you feel like you don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders completely alone.

But he knew things weren't so simple with these two, especially not for Kurt.

The fact that Blaine had said those words to him and, instead of staying right where he was, Kurt had chosen to run back home in the middle of the night told Burt exactly what had happened.

I don't want to get my heart broken, you know? I don't know why everyone seems to think I do. But it's just... it's just that when I'm with him, I forget that's even a possibility.

His heart ached for Blaine.

His heart ached for Kurt.

When would they get it right?

Burt ran a hand down his face, feeling a lot more tired than he should have, like he was absorbing his son's distress. "Not gonna lie, kiddo, I saw this coming a mile away," he said bitterly. "The way you two have been behaving around each other lately... and let's be honest, having sex, as tempting as it could be, was probably a terrible idea..."

Kurt spluttered awkwardly. "Dad..."

"I'm old, but I'm not dumb, Kurt," he said, looking into his eyes. He wasn't mad, he was just honest. "All those times you crashed at his place because it was too late to drive home? I mean, you weren't fooling anyone."

Kurt hid his face behind his hands, and didn't say a word, which was all the confirmation Burt needed, really.

"I'm sorry, Kurt," Burt murmured, sadly. "I'm sure you had your reasons, I'm sure it helped you to be close to him, and I'm sure you had the best intentions." He paused, watched him for a second, and then added: "I just don't think it was very smart of you to get so involved with him again when you don't return his feelings."

Kurt's gaze snapped to his so suddenly it almost gave Burt a headache. He looked at his father like he was absolutely insane. "What?"

"Well, Kurt, we both know it's too difficult to separate the physical from the emotional sometimes..."

"Dad," Kurt interrupted him, like Burt was talking gibberish. "That's not it. I never stopped loving Blaine. Being in love with him was never the problem. He's always been so, so easy to love..."

Oh, this. This was the right direction in which to push. Burt leaned a little across the table once more. "Then what's the problem, Kurt? You love him, he loves you."

"Don't you get it, dad?" He said sadly, fingers touching the bracelet on his wrist almost without noticing. "I'm terrified. I don't know if I can have a normal, loving relationship. Every time I've tried, everything's gone to hell – I broke Blaine's heart, and then no one ever seemed right, and then Gabriel came along..." He shook his head. "I always seemed to be looking for reasons to break things that didn't need to be broken. Everything's always been so... dysfunctional. And with Gabriel..."

"Gabriel's in the past," Burt retorted firmly. "And I don't see why you can't finally let yourself move on with a guy who would honestly walk on hot coals for you, Kurt. He's good for you."

"But I'm not good for him," Kurt replied a little desperately. "Don't you see? I can't give him what he wants. I can't make him happy like he deserves."

"I actually think you have it in you to be everything you want to be, to be everything Blaine needs you to be," Burt shrugged helplessly. "You know what I think? That you're not thinking this through, Kurt."

"I... I don't..." Kurt murmured, looking absolutely lost.

"Look, this is something you'll probably need to talk about in therapy, to someone who can actually help you a lot more than I ever could," Burt said calmly, reaching for his son's hand. "But don't think about love like something that's purely black or white. It's never going to be perfect, but it's about being ready to put in the work each day to make the other person as happy as possible, while being happy yourself too. Even in the dark times. It's not about what he deserves, or what you deserve, what you can give him, or what you can't. It's about how much better life would be if you face it together."

Kurt's eyes filled with tears. "We won't be facing anything together, dad. I just broke his heart again after I told him I wouldn't do it. He would never trust me. He would never forgive me." He wiped his tears furiously. "And I just... what if he's just in love with the idea he has of me in his head? Of the guy he met over a decade ago, his high school sweetheart? What if he can't love the mess I became, the mess I am now?"

Burt felt his heart break a little further for his boy, the one who had danced in front of the television while watching Disney movies and daydreamed about finding his own prince. Burt had been scared he would never find what he truly wanted – until Blaine Anderson had walked through the front door.

"It sounds to me like he's been here all along while you were getting back on your feet and he knows exactly who you are, Kurt. He's seen the good and the bad, and supported you through it all. I don't think that's something you need to worry about. I think he will love you no matter what," he said, squeezing his hand to make him pay attention.

Kurt choked on a little sob and hid his face in his hand. "I'm so tired."

"I know you are, kiddo," he stood up and went around the table. He placed his hand on his son's shoulder, and hoped he could feel his love, his support, his unwavering trust in the fact that he could do this, he could get better, he could have everything he wanted. "Go to bed. Everything will be a little clearer after you've slept."

Kurt nodded, looking utterly defeated and spent. Burt pulled him into a hug before he let him go upstairs – it was too hard not to. He wanted to keep his arms around him and protect him from all this hurt and confusion, but Kurt was an adult now, and he had to deal with his own issues. All Burt could do was be ready to support him, to keep him from falling, to guide him if he needed it.

He watched him march up the stairs, hunched in on himself with all his pain. He leaned against the kitchen doorway and thought about Blaine – oh that boy. How brave he had to be, to put his heart on the line over and over again.

Burt hoped he had some bravery left in him, for when Kurt was finally ready to face his fears.

With a long sigh, Burt headed back up to his bedroom, but he didn't think he would get much more sleep, after all.

For a very, very long time, Blaine just stood there in the dark, watching the road after Kurt had driven away. He waited – for what, he wasn't sure. Maybe he was waiting for Kurt to return. He surely would stop and think, right? He would realize he was making a mistake (I knew it was a mistake). He would turn around. Blaine would see the headlights returning any minute now, and he would help him carry Finn back into his bed, and they would hold each other and everything was going to be okay.

His heart wasn't going to be broken by Kurt Hummel again.

Except, it looked like it was.

He began to shiver in the chill of the night. There was nothing to do but admit defeat. Kurt wasn't coming back. He had made his decision.

He didn't want Blaine.

Slowly, he went back inside. He closed the front door and stood in the hallway, realizing he couldn't, he just couldn't head back upstairs right now. He couldn't walk into the bedroom to see the crumbled sheets, the vestiges of what had started out as a perfect night and ended up as Blaine's worst fear.

He saw his phone on the kitchen counter as he moved further into the house, where he had left it charging earlier. He grabbed it, as well as the quilt that was on the back of the couch, and went outside to the deck. He sat on the armchair next to the extinct bonfire and stared out at the lake, still and dark in the night. All he could hear was the beating of his fractured heart.

He had been so, so stupid.

For a whole week, he had lived here with Kurt and let himself hope, let himself fall, let himself relax. He had looked at Kurt and had thought he was seeing the same love reflected back at him in his blue eyes. But Kurt hadn't wanted him ten years ago, and he didn't want him now.

But the way he had touched him... the way he had kissed him... how could that mean nothing?

It meant everything to him.

He unlocked his phone and opened his texts. Bitterness spread through him as poison as he typed a text message: You were right.

He sent it to his brother.

I knew it was a mistake.

If someone had stabbed him in the middle of his chest, it probably wouldn't have hurt as much as those words did.

Had he been so wrong to believe? Had he made it all up in his head? The way Kurt looked at him, the way he grabbed his hand, the way he held him like he thought Blaine was something precious. The way he had trusted him with Finn, the way he had kissed Olivia's forehead goodnight...

He wanted to make excuses for him – there were a million reasons why he could've had reacted the way he did. But Blaine was done making excuses.

He had spent most of his life making excuses for others, and he was so tired.

Blaine was still as a statue, too stunned by his broken heart to even move, until the sky began to turn a little clearer, like the sun was somewhere behind the trees, trying to push the night away. He closed his eyes. It was a new day and he wasn't looking forward to it.

He grabbed his phone again. Mad and hurt as he was, there was something he needed to know.

[Blaine – 05:38 AM]: Please let me know if you made it home safely. That's all I want to know. You don't have to talk to me again if you don't want to. Just let me know if you and Finn are okay.

Sometimes, when it hurt this badly, he wished he didn't care. He wished it wouldn't matter to him. He wished he could be selfish. But the thought of him driving home in the middle of the night, upset, with his sleeping son in the truck with him...

Why hadn't he held the words back? I love you. He scoffed. What had love ever done for him but bring him disappointment and pain?

His phone buzzed in his lap.

[Kurt – 05:42 AM]: We're fine. We're home.

Blaine let out a little breath of relief. He put the phone down, not expecting Kurt to say anything else, but then it buzzed again.

[Kurt – 05:43 AM]: I'm so sorry, Blaine. I really am.

Blaine stared at the message for a moment. He had nothing to say to that. He couldn't say it was okay, he couldn't reassure Kurt, make sure he didn't feel bad after what had happened. He couldn't apologize – would apologizing mean he would have to take back what he had said? And what was the point of soothing matters with Kurt if it all would be based on a lie? Because if there was one thing he couldn't take back, it was his feelings for him.

He had been trying to get rid of them for ten years and had yet to succeed.

The house was silent as a tomb as he opened the front door and slipped inside, balancing the drink tray and the bag with his purchases, careful not to spill anything. He wasn't surprised, though. It was barely six in the morning, and considering what had happened, he wasn't exactly expecting to walk into a very lively and happy situation.

Sometimes, Cooper really did hate being right.

When he had read the text message, woken by his phone buzzing on his nighstand, he had blinked at it stupidly for a few seconds, trying to understand what the hell his brother was talking about. And then it dawned on him. And he was so, so angry. He had actually considered heading over the Hummel's house instead of driving all the way here, to give Kurt a piece of his mind.

But his brother needed him. And Blaine would always come first. Yelling at Kurt could wait.

He stood in the middle of the living room and looked around for a moment before he headed to the french doors that led outside. He knew his brother. He had no doubt he would find him there.

And, once again, Cooper was right. He was sitting with his back to the house, looking forlornly at the lake, wrapped in a quilt. Cooper gave himself a second to gather strength for this, and then he said: "Hey, squirt."

Blaine startled and turned to look at him. He looked seriously awful. His hair was a mess, and he seemed absolutely exhausted. Considering the time he had texted Cooper, he guessed he had never even gone to sleep.

"What are you doing here?" Blaine asked, wrapping the quilt a little tighter around himself.

"I thought you might like some company," Cooper said, shrugging, as he took a seat on the armchair next to his. "I brought some coffee, but if you prefer, I have other options," he added, and grabbed a beer from the six pack he had in the bag. He offered both the beer and the coffee to him.

Blaine reached for a cup of coffee. Cooper put the beer back in the bag (he was sure they would need it later), and leaned back in his seat with his own coffee. He didn't say anything.

He knew his brother. He would talk when he was ready.

For a long time, they just sat there, sipping their coffee in silence. As they did, Cooper remembered what had happened a little over ten years ago, when he had arrived home after his mother had called him to tell him what had happened, and he had walked up the stairs and into Blaine's room.

The windows had been closed, the lights off. He could barely see the lump in the bed that was his little brother. When he sat next to him and tried to touch his face, he instead touched the pillow, which was drenched in tears. Cooper's heart broke as he had gathered his brother in his arms, let him sob desperately into his shoulder. Blaine had held on to him so tightly, like he was scared he would vanish if he let go, as if he was scared his grief would turn him to dust.

And in that moment, Cooper decided he would never allow that to happen.

This was a different situation, even if it had the same essence. Blaine looked devastated, but he was quiet, resigned. Cooper almost wished he would start crying – this odd calm was worst. It looked as if Blaine couldn't even feel anything anymore.

Blaine looked down at his cup and murmured: "Are you here to say 'I told you so'?"

Cooper hated himself. He hated Kurt. He hated everything that had made his brother sound like this, so defeated. "No, Blaine."

"You could, you know?" Blaine said with a little shrug. "You knew all along this was going to happen. You told me a million times. And I didn't listen. I didn't listen."

"I wanted to be wrong," Cooper told him earnestly. "Trust me, Blaine, I really did. These past few months, seeing you with him, how happy you were..."

"It never lasts," Blaine muttered darkly, his voice so quiet Cooper had to strain to hear him. "No one ever stays. No one ever wants me. He never wants me."

Cooper felt like bursting into tears. "Blaine..."

"It's fine," he said, and took a sip of coffee. "I'm fine. I should be used to it."

"No, you shouldn't," Cooper said fiercely. God, he was going to kill Kurt for making his brother look and sound like this. "You deserve to be happy. You deserve to have everything you ever wanted..."

"Everything I ever wanted walked out of here in the middle of the night because I told him I loved him," Blaine said. "It doesn't matter what I deserve."

"It always matters," Cooper insisted, because he needed him to believe it. "You always matter."

Blaine scoffed. Cooper wanted to shake him. He wanted to make him see. He wanted him to understand.

Fuck you, Kurt Hummel.

"It's my own fault," Blaine said, with another shrug, and it was driving Cooper insane. "He looked at me like he used to, before. So I let myself believe everything was okay, that we were heading in that direction. Our lives became so... so intertwined. Friday night dinner, and coffee in the mornings, and the children, god, the children." He shook his head. "We kissed and we touched, and it all felt like a fucking fairy tale, like we were finally finding our happy ending after all this time. And these past few days here... it was so perfect, Coop. I looked at him and I was so sure we would be back here next summer and the one after that, and the one after that. And I thought... he has to love me back, right? I mean, after all he's been through, after all we've suffered... the way he held me, Cooper. You don't hold someone the way he did if you don't love them."

It was so hard to hold back the tears as he watched his little brother. The pain was raw in his voice, and so unfair. If there was someone in this stinky world that deserved to be happy, it was Blaine.

"It's fine," he repeated, like he was trying to convince himself. He definitely did not convince Cooper. "I'll get through it. I always do."

Cooper wanted to protest. He wanted Blaine to be angry, to throw things, to kick the chair, to show any other emotion but this raw disappointment. He didn't want his brother to always expect to get his heart broken. He wanted him to strive for happiness. He wanted him to never settle for less than he deserved.

He wanted him to get over Kurt, but after a decade, Cooper wondered if he should just want him to be able to at least move on enough to be happy with someone else instead.

He didn't know what made Kurt Hummel so fucking unforgettable.

But before he could think of something to say, the french doors opened again and Olivia stepped outside, rubbing sleepily at her eyes, barefoot, her hair a wild nest on her head.

"Daddy?" She called, and then blinked in confusion at Cooper. "Uncle Coop? What are you doing here?"

Blaine put his coffee cup down on the ground and stood up to head towards her. "What are you doing up, sweetie? It's still early."

"I woke up and Finn's bed was empty," she said around a yawn. "Where is he?" She looked around, as if she expected him to see him bouncing his way to her. She frowned. "Where's Kurt?"

Blaine picked her up in his arms. Cooper saw him swallow, as if there was something thick and heavy lodged in his throat. "They had to go, Ollie."

Olivia's face fell. "Why?"

"They just..." Blaine struggled to find the words. He seemed to come up empty. "They just did. I'm sorry."

"Are they coming back later?" She asked, studying her father's face carefully.

"No, they aren't coming back," Blaine replied, and it looked like it physically hurt him to say that.

"But we're seeing them as soon as we go home, right?" She insisted, and oh, that girl had always been too smart for her own good. It was so, so hard to fool her. "They just had to leave now, right? They didn't leave forever?"

Blaine's arms tightened around her. "It's going to be okay, Ollie."

"They left us?" She asked, breathing with some difficulty, gasping as if air wasn't enough.

Blaine tried to shush her, pressing his lips against the top of her head and closing his eyes tightly, like he was holding back tears.

"No!" She exclaimed, kicking at him. "No! They weren't supposed to leave us!"

Cooper could only watch them helplessly. She began to scream, a piercing, desperate sound that echoed in the emptiness and peacefulness of the lake. She kicked at Blaine, and he only held her more firmly, and let her cry.

It was as if he had his bleeding, cracked heart in his hands, Olivia letting out the sobs and the screams he was surely bottling up inside.

And Cooper realized that this was so much worse than what had happened ten years ago. Because this time, Kurt hadn't only broken Blaine's heart. He had also broken Olivia's.

He stood there, and watched them, feeling useless. There were too many pieces, lying scattered at his feet, and he wasn't sure he would be able to put them back together this time.

But he sure as hell was going to try.

Thank you for reading, I'll be seeing you on Wednesday!

Love,

L.-