Chapter 29: Going Home
"My name is John. I'm Blaine's father."
Kurt's heart stopped, his jaw agape and his eyes going wide. Blaine's father, here at the Lima Bean, sitting across from him? This had to be some sort of trick.
"I can assure you, Mr. Hummel, that I am indeed Blaine's father," John said as if to read Kurt's mind. "I've shown the security guard that is so diligently watching us from the door my ID. I've no problem showing you as well." He pulled out his driver's license and a picture of the Anderson family when Cooper and Blaine were young boys.
Kurt closed his mouth and took John's identification cautiously. He then looked at the picture. Blaine was maybe six years old in the photo and proudly wore a toothless grin. Kurt couldn't suppress the smile on his lips from seeing his soulmate as an adorable little boy.
"You can keep the photo if you'd like." John's voice brought Kurt back to the current situation. "Blaine left home with nothing so I doubt he has any photos of his youth."
Kurt looked at John with slightly narrowed eyes and returned the man's driver's license. "Is there a particular reason as to why you're here, Mr. Anderson?" Kurt asked, his tone polite but firm.
John folded his hands on the table. "Yes, there is," he replied, his tone matching Kurt's. "I wanted to speak with you about Blaine."
"What about him?" Kurt asked, his voice laced with suspicion.
John ignored Kurt's tone. He understood the boy's hesitance. He could only imagine what his son had told Kurt about him. In fact, he dreaded it. He needed to be careful how he said things and how he spoke to his son's soulmate. The last thing he wanted to do was push Blaine further away.
"I'm sure you know that he and I," John paused and took a breath. "He and I are not exactly on good terms, Kurt."
"Because he's gay?" Kurt asked much snippier than intended. "Or because he didn't want to go into business like you?"
"Because he's compassionate," John answered with no hesitation. "Because he feels deeply and because he's a dreamer. I never understood him. We had nothing in common." John looked away and Kurt was surprised by his pained expression. "Blaine being gay and choosing to follow his heart instead of the plan I had for him, those were simply excuses for me to shut him out."
Kurt's face softened. "What exactly is it that you want from me, Mr. Anderson?"
"I want you to pass along a message for me," John spoke and the hint of emotion Kurt saw had vanished. "I know he's leaving for the rest of his tour soon. I'd like it if he came to see me beforehand."
"I have to ask, why didn't you just call him yourself?" Kurt asked curiously.
John took a moment to answer and when he did, his voice was quiet. "Because I know he wouldn't speak to me on his own. I figured my best bet to reach him was through you."
Kurt offered him a small smile. If only he knew how badly Blaine truly did want to speak to him. "I will pass along the message."
"I'd appreciate that," Mr. Anderson nodded. "Also," he pulled a business card from inside his jacket, "this is for your father."
Kurt took it warily. "My father?"
"I'm a financial analyst, Kurt, and a damn good one," John informed him. "And I think it would be good if your father and I got to know each other a little bit. Have him call me. Even if he doesn't want any financial advice, I'd really like to speak with him." John pushed the seat back and stood up. "It was nice meeting you, Kurt. I hope that one day it will be under better circumstances. Until then." John gave Kurt a nod and walked away before Kurt could say goodbye.
"Dude it was so freaking cool!" Kurt heard Finn say as he walked towards the kitchen. He had put off coming home for as long as he could, unsure of how Blaine would react to his father's visit. He hoped Blaine wouldn't be upset with him for passing along the message. He took a deep breath as he turned the corner. "Hey," he greeted meekly, his dad and Blaine smiling at him while Finn bounced with excitement.
"Kurt!" Finn shouted. "You'll never guess what happened!" Kurt raised an inquiring brow and glanced at Blaine warily. Blaine tensed at the look in his eyes. "The New Directions totally walked out today!"
"Oh yeah?" Kurt questioned, only partially interested in what Finn had to say.
"Yeah! We kept trying to convince Mr. Schue that he needed to give you the solo and he kept telling us how we needed to focus on our strong points and Rachel totally went off on him! Santana had to pull her away and everything! It was epic!" Finn exclaimed.
Kurt forced a smile. "That's great, Finn. Listen, I really need to talk to Blaine and Dad. Could you go play a video game?"
Kurt's tone was much harsher than he intended and Finn deflated. He had thought Kurt would be elated by the news and was bummed that Kurt didn't seem to care. He mumbled about his efforts not being appreciated as he walked out and Kurt made a mental note to talk to him later.
"Kurt, what's wrong?" Blaine asked worriedly. He made his way over to his soulmate to pull him into his arms but Kurt held his hand up to stop him.
Kurt took a seat at the island and exhaled, letting the words fall out before he lost the courage. "Your dad came to see me today."
Blaine retracted as if he'd been slapped. "What?"
Kurt nodded. "Yeah. He um, he found me at the Lima Bean. I don't know how but one second I'm on tumblr and the next he's sitting at my table."
"What did he want?" Blaine asked in a tone that was unlike himself. It reminded Kurt of Blaine's father.
"That he wanted to talk with you," Kurt spoke gently. "He said that he figured you wouldn't want to speak with him and that I was his best bet at getting you to talk to him."
"Unbelievable," Blaine scoffed shaking his head.
Kurt reached into his messenger bag and grabbed the photo and business card John had given him. "He wanted you to have this." Kurt handed Blaine the photo and Blaine's heart broke a little bit. He remembered the day the picture was taken. It had been one of the few rare moments where his father showed him kindness. Kurt turned to his dad and gave him the business card. "He wanted me to give this to you, Dad. He said he could help you with your business if you were interested, and even if you weren't, he'd like it if you gave him a call. He said he wanted to get to know you."
Burt took the card curiously. He'd done his research. He knew who John Anderson was and exactly how powerful he was in Ohio. He wasn't sure how he felt about the man, unwilling to base his opinion without properly meeting him. But he knew from John's business profile that he was raised by General Thomas Anderson and he guessed that John and he had a similar upbringing.
"What else did he say, Kurt?" Blaine asked, his voice low and a little broken. In that moment, Burt saw a little boy desperate for his father's love. He knew that feeling entirely too well. "Tell me."
"Dad, could you give us a minute?"
"No," Blaine stopped Burt from leaving. "Burt stays. Tell me what else my father said, Kurt."
Kurt fidgeted with the strap of his bag. "He told me that you two weren't on good terms because he didn't understand you, that he never understood you, and that it wasn't because you're gay or a musician, but because you're compassionate and a dreamer. He said that he used you being gay as an excuse to push you away."
Blaine's jaw dropped, his eyes blazing with fire. "Did he now?" Kurt internally cringed at the anger in Blaine's voice. "Did he also tell you how he ridiculed me in front of my friends before I even knew what being gay meant? Or the fact that he did everything in his power to go to Cooper's baseball games but was somehow too busy to attend the school play I was in?"
"Blaine."
"Or how about the fact that he broke my first guitar even though I cried and begged him not to?" Blaine continued. "Did he tell you about all the events that I was forced to attend and pretend to like the daughters of his associates? Or the way he blamed me for getting my ass kicked at the Sadie Hawkins dance? No, of course he didn't tell you. That would mean that he had a conscious. That would mean that he actually fucking cared!"
"Blaine, please," Kurt tried again.
"I need to get out of here," Blaine said more to himself, storming past Kurt and out the door.
Kurt quickly turned to follow him but Burt stopped him. "Let him breath for little bit, son. He'll be back."
Blaine walked steadily down the sidewalk, two bodyguards following close behind. He yelled at them as he walked out that he was going for a walk whether they went with him or not, and naturally two followed. Blaine didn't care that they were there. They were paid to keep an eye on him and not to ask questions unless he was doing something life threatening. Walking to the park at the end of the block was hardly dangerous but they followed nonetheless.
Blaine was reeling with emotions. He was furious with his father for daring to contact Kurt. He was annoyed with Kurt for seemingly not understanding why he was so upset. But most of all, he was ashamed of himself for the scene he had caused and for letting his father affect his emotions so strongly. He had sworn to himself years ago that he wouldn't hold onto the anger his father was always able to get out of him and he truly believed that he had let it go. But apparently his anger had only hidden away, ready to come out at the right moment. He hated how vulnerable he felt. He hated how weak he seemed. Worst of all, he hated how badly he still wished his father would open his heart to him.
By the time he made it to the park, the anger had subsided and all that was left was remorse and regret. He took a seat on a bench, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply, allowing a sudden gentle calm to wash over him. He assumed it was because Kurt played at this park as a child and it somehow relaxed his soul. What he didn't know was that many years ago, on the very bench where he sat, his pregnant mother came across a crying Elizabeth desperate for guidance.
"I know you don't know me but I'm a good listener," Natalie spoke softly, keeping an eye on Cooper who was attempting to climb the monkey bars. "They say talking to a stranger is always easier than talking to someone you know."
Elizabeth sniffled and wiped away the tears. "I turn of age next week," she said somberly. "And I'm going to die any day now," Elizabeth looked up at Natalie whose eyes were wide with heartbreak and confusion. "I have leukemia. The doctor's told me I won't make it to my birthday. It's one thing to know that I'll never meet my soulmate. But to then realize that I was never meant for a soulmate?" Elizabeth started crying again, her heart aching in a way no one should experience.
Natalie hesitated for a moment before gently placing her hand over Elizabeth's. She brought it over and Elizabeth followed, her head resting on Natalie's large stomach. Natalie held the young girl in her arms as she cried, humming quietly until Elizabeth's tears subsided.
"Doctors aren't always right," Natalie told her. "According to them, I was lucky to have had my Cooper and getting pregnant again would be impossible and yet, here I am."
Elizabeth sat up and looked deep into Natalie's eyes. "That's hardly the same thing," she mumbled.
"Isn't it?" Natalie questioned. "On one end, they're telling you that your life is coming to an end. On the other, they're telling me that I can't bring new life into this world," Elizabeth looked away and shrugged. "The point is that just because they say it's so doesn't mean it is. Fate has a plan for all of us. You just have to believe."
"And you believed that you would have another baby?" Elizabeth asked her.
"With all my heart," Natalie smiled softly, her hand rubbing her belly.
They didn't speak again for a while, Elizabeth lost in her thoughts and Natalie not wanting to disturb her. Natalie checked the time and sighed. She still had a bit of a drive home and she was tired, but she wouldn't head back to Westerville until she was certain that her husband's father wouldn't be there. That's why she was in Lima in the first place. John didn't want her anywhere near their home when his father showed up so she left for the day. It was getting dark however and Cooper was getting tired, sitting on a swing pushing the sand with his feet instead of swinging.
"I should go home," Elizabeth finally spoke. "My parents are probably worried," Natalie nodded but said nothing. "Thanks for talking with me. Sorry for crying on your baby. I hope I didn't disturb him, or her."
"You didn't," Natalie assured her. "And he's a boy. We're naming him Blaine."
Elizabeth smiled a little. "That's a nice name. Congrats."
Natalie returned her smile. "Thank you." Elizabeth stood up to leave but stopped when Natalie grabbed her arm. "Remember what I said, Fate has a plan for everybody. You just need to believe." Elizabeth nodded, unshed tears of hope in her eyes and walked away. Natalie exhaled slowly as Blaine suddenly moved sharply. "It's ok sweetheart. I'm sure things will work out the way they're supposed to."
A couple of hours later, once the sun had set, Burt took a seat next to his son in law. He didn't say a word and Blaine refused to look at him. "I'm sorry for my behavior," Blaine said sounding more like a child than adult. "I'm embarrassed by my actions and I hope you won't hold them against me."
Burt chuckled softly, draping his arm over Blaine's shoulder. "Son, if you think that little walk out of yours compares to any one of Kurt's walk outs, you need a serious reality check."
Blaine smiled despite himself. "Still. I was raised better than that and my emotions got the better of me."
"It happens to the best of us," Burt told him kindly. "Has Kurt ever talked about his Grandfather Richard?" he asked, already knowing the answer. Blaine looked up interested and shook his head. "No, he wouldn't have. I made certain that Kurt never met my father. I missed several family events because he would be there and I refused to be in the same room with him. To put it plainly, my father was a bastard. He was a cold man, had been my entire life. He was in World War II and the Vietnam War and in his eyes, things like love and compassion made you weak. How my mother stayed with him for so many years is still a mystery to me."
"Sounds like my grandfather," Blaine muttered. "Hell, it sounds like my dad."
"Those of us with military upbringing tend to have a different view on life," Burt continued. "In some ways, I'm a lot like my father. Or at least I was. I didn't care about love or starting a family. It didn't bother me that I had Lizzy's name on my wrist with no indication of meeting her. I was even upset when the signs of meeting her started. I didn't want that life. I didn't want to be someone's husband, someone's dad. I was certain that I'd be awful at it. Everything changed when I met my Lizzy though; she changed me. She had this strength about her that melted my heart and after that, I couldn't imagine not showering her with love and adoration even though it was such a foreign concept to me. You wanna know what my father said to me when I told him and Ma that Lizzy was dying?" Blaine nodded. "He told me to leave her. He told me that she would die no matter what we did and being with her was pointless. He would rather I not lover her at all and move on to a healthier woman who could keep the home clean than be happy."
Blaine's shoulders slumped. "That's terrible."
"That was my Pop," Burt sighed. "Lizzy and I bonded not long after we met. At times I felt like our relationship had been thrown together. She was so young and so ill and I still had so much growing to do. But we did our best, we made it through, and in the end, I wouldn't change a thing. But the point I'm trying to make here, son, is that I want you to really think about my old man and yours. Don't think about their likeness but their differences. Your dad, no matter what's happened in the past, has reached out to you. He made nice with your soulmate and his father because he wants to show you that he's changed, or at least trying to."
"Do you really believe that?"
"I do," Burt nodded. "And I think you would truly regret not giving him a chance. Now I'm not saying that it's going to be cupcakes and rainbows right away, but talking to him face to face could be the first step."
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
Burt scoffed good-naturedly. "Of course I am."
"Kurt's lucky to have a father like you," Blaine smiled softly.
"He's lucky to have both of us kid. I mean, we are the best looking men in the world after all," Burt joked and Blaine chuckled. "Come on, son, let's head home before Kurt freaks out even more than he already is."
Blaine walked into Kurt's bedroom quietly, an apologetic smile on his lips. Kurt looked up from where he was sitting and sighed, relief coursing through his body. He quickly stood and met Blaine halfway, wrapping his arms around his shoulders in an embrace.
"I'm sorry," Kurt rushed out. "I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want to upset you but I knew I had to."
Blaine pulled back just enough to kiss Kurt sweetly. "It's ok," he said then sighed. "I promise I'm not upset with you. I'm not even upset with him. I don't know what I am. I was so ready to talk to him and now I'm terrified all over again. Part of me wants to believe it's some trick but another part of me is dying to know what he has to say. But no matter what I feel or don't feel, I shouldn't have walked out like that."
"Are you kidding?" Kurt smirked. "That was a baby walk out compared to mine."
Blaine chuckled, their noses brushing. "Still. I didn't mean to worry you."
"It's alright," Kurt pulled back and led Blaine to bed. "What are you going to do?" he asked as they sat.
Blaine shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, I know I have to go see him but I don't know if I should talk to my mom first or if I should just confront him first. Should I prepare myself for a fight or are we finally going to be able to talk without his obvious disappointment in me coming through? Does he even want to try and get to know me? Or is this just some elaborate scheme to cut me off for good?"
Kurt frowned at the desperation in Blaine's voice. "I don't know hon, but neither will you until you talk to him. I will tell you this; your dad seemed kinda sad."
Blaine's brows shot up in surprise. "My dad? Sad? That's not possible. My dad doesn't show emotion, ever."
Kurt shrugged. "I could've read it wrong but it seemed like he had some regrets," Blaine turned away, unsure of how to feel about his father feeling remorse. "We should go to bed early. I have a solo to get tomorrow and you have a school boy glee club to whip into shape. Although I'm not exactly fond of the latter."
Blaine scoffed good-naturedly and stood up, slipping his shirt off before removing his pants. "Yes well, considering you tricked me into giving you vital competition information, I sort of had no choice."
Kurt gasped as he too stripped down to his boxers. "I have no idea what you're insinuating," Blaine gave him a look which he ignored. "Not like it matters. The New Directions are going to wipe the floor with those wannabes.
Blaine shook his head, pulled the sheets back and got into bed. He waited until Kurt had settled down before laying his head on Kurt's chest. Several minutes of silence passed, Kurt's fingers twirling Blaine's curls. Kurt thought Blaine had fallen asleep because of his steady breathing. But the gentle caress of his thumb on Kurt's abdomen told him otherwise.
"Kurt," Blaine whispered.
"Hm?"
"I'm scared," Blaine admitted, the slightest waver in his voice. "What if he truly does hate me? What if I go see him and the world crashes down around me?"
"It won't," Kurt promised him. "And if it does, I'll be here to catch you when you fall."
Blaine hugged Kurt tighter and turned his head to kiss Kurt's bare chest. "I love you, Kurt Hummel, more than anything in this entire world."
Kurt kissed the top of Blaine's head. "I love you too, always have and always will." Blaine let the words soothe his soul. No matter what his father said, in the end all that mattered was the love between Kurt and him. As long as Kurt stood by his side, nothing could bring him down.
"Are you sure changing the songs is the best idea?" Blaine asked Hunter as they made their way to the rehearsal hall. It was early Saturday morning and the Warbler boys were supposed to be waiting for them. Hunter prayed that they actually showed up.
"I know it's risky but I don't see any other choice," Hunter said as they turned the corner. "They aren't in the least bit motivated to win. They think they'll win solely on our legacy. They're bored with the songs, bored with the routines. We need something to give them life, something that will make them want to win on their own."
Blaine nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe if we remixed the songs differently?" he suggested though he knew by the look on Hunter's face that wouldn't work. "Or maybe we should sit them down and talk to them?"
Hunter scoffed. "Yeah because that's worked so far."
As Hunter and Blaine drew closer to the rehearsal hall, a familiar voice boomed with passion and disappointment. They glanced at each other bemused and quickened their pace just in time to see Wes slam his fist on the desk.
"Is this some joke to you?" Wes hollered at the boys. "Do you honestly think that whatever bullshit was happening in the dorms or the classrooms had any effect on us? The moment we walked through those doors and into this room, any and all arguments or disagreements vanished because we knew that we had to put our everything into our performance. Any anger we felt towards our brother or teacher or whoever the hell us, we channeled it and used it to deliver a passion that couldn't be touched!" Wes walked around the desk still unaware of Blaine and Hunter's presence. "I am so incredibly disappointed in you boys. This never would've happened when we were the Warblers. In fact, none of you would have even made the cut."
"What did we miss?"
Wes and the Warblers turned to the door at the sound of Hunter's voice. Wes huffed and crossed his arms. "I show up early, thinking that I would surprise you guys and instead I find these dimwits fighting, over some stupid test at that."
Blaine shook his head and entered the room with Hunter. "You know Wesley, I thought I could help them, show them the way to greatness, but they are just so pompous aren't they?" he asked as if the boys weren't in the room listening.
"They're pompous and they have no heart," Wes said with disgust. "I'm ashamed to even be associated with them."
"You're ashamed?" Hunter asked in disbelief, disgruntled murmurs growing as the Warbler men downgraded them. "You guys got out. I'm still here babysitting them. I can't stand to look at them most days."
"From what I've seen, I don't blame you," Blaine said with regret.
"Alright, we get it!" councilman Thomas shouted over his teammates. "We suck, ok? We'll never meet your standards, we got it."
"But you don't get it," Blaine said to them with sorrowful eyes. "You boys are living our legacy, you're riding out our fame and that's not going to fly, not anymore. You need to make your own legacy and that can't happen if you don't believe in yourselves," the boys looked around, all wearing the same sullen expression. "Do you guys even want this? Do you want to win? Do you want to compete?"
"Of course we do," Thomas answered though his tone suggested otherwise. "We just...we're never going to be like you guys. Even you, Mr. Clarington. Your Warblers had this, I don't know, magic about them that we just don't have. We aren't good enough."
"But you are good enough!" Wes exclaimed. "Why do you think we're being so hard on you? We don't want you to be us, we want you to be you. You're not going to accomplish anything by trying to be something you aren't. But you are just as magical as we were. The only difference is that we believed in ourselves."
"Oh my God," Blaine gasped, his eyes shining with excitement. "I got it," he said to Hunter before turning to the boys. "A big part of our magic was choosing the right music. Raise your hand if you hate the songs you've chosen?" Every Warbler hand, including Hunter and Wes' went up. "See? There's your problem. Everything else, the arguing with each other and the lack of effort, all stems from the frustration over your songs. Picking new songs, songs that you love with a passion, will give you guys the magic you're lacking."
"Yeah but what songs?" Thomas asked him.
Blaine's face lit up. "How about Michael?"
"Jackson?" Hunter asked for clarification, the room immediately abuzz.
"B, that's brilliant!" Wes grinned. "The last time the Warblers did Michael was-"
"Nationals, junior year," Blaine cut in. "Sebastian led us to victory with Michael," Blaine turned towards the boys. "What do you boys say? You can write down all your favorite songs and majority votes for the top three. Only rule is that it can't be any of the songs we performed. If you're doing Michael, you have to do it your way."
The Warbler boys looked at one another and nodded. Thomas smiled at his older brothers with an excitement that hadn't been there all year. "Looks like the Warblers are doing Michael Jackson again. The New Directions don't stand a chance."
"The Warblers don't have a chance," Kurt said smugly during their lunch break. After the New Directions stormed out the day before, Mr. Schue had no choice but to give Kurt the solo. The only problem now was that Kurt had no idea what to sing. "They're totally screwed once I get up there."
"Yeah, once you pick a song," Santana reminded him and he rolled his eyes. "What happened to singing Pompeii?"
Kurt half-shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, vocally I got that song in the bag. But now that Blaine's helping them get ready, I don't feel like it's a strong enough song for Nationals."
"What about something from Panic! At the Disco?" Rachel wondered. "You killed it during 'step out of your comfort zone' week. Maybe they have a song that's Nationals worthy?"
"Maybe," Kurt said uncertainly. "I have to really think about this and I need to do it soon. There's no way in hell I'm letting those stuck up little spoiled brats take our trophy."
"Your soulmate used to be one of those brats," Quinn pointed out with a smirk.
"Used to be being the operative word," Kurt said. "And so what? Even if he was a Dalton student now, I'd still want to wipe their smug little faces all up in my shit. We are better than them, point blank, and we are not going to lose."
Blaine meant to go home right after Warbler rehearsal. He meant to give himself more time to think everything over before talking with his father. But he seemed to enter autopilot the second he stepped into his rental car and drove from Dalton to his house; his parents' house. He sat in the driveway, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel anxiously. His bodyguards were parked on the curb and would wait there for Blaine for as long as he needed them. Blaine hated to make them wait longer than necessary, but he couldn't get out of his car. He felt paralyzed, his eyes shifting from his old bedroom window to the front door as if his parents would come out at any moment. They didn't of course and Blaine's nerves were getting worse. He needed to calm down before approaching his father. With an exhale, he unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out of the car.
Slowly he made his way up the walkway, prolonging the inevitable as long as possible. He could still turn back if he wanted. He still had time. But he knew no matter when he spoke to his dad, the end result, whatever it may be, would be the same. He needed to get this over with, for not just himself, but for Kurt. They only had a couple of weeks left before Blaine was to leave for tour and he didn't want to waste his time sulking over his father.
He reached the door and froze. Should he knock? Should he just walk in? Was he even welcome in the Anderson home or had his father wanted to meet somewhere more impersonal? He probably should've called before showing up. But he was there now so he might as well get this over with. He rang the doorbell and breathed deeply. It was now or never.
Natalie opened the door and gasped. "Blaine?"
Blaine offered her a small smile. "Hey, Mom. I'm home."
Natalie threw her arms around her youngest son. She hadn't seen him since the concert she'd attended in October. She figured they would see each other over coffee before he left again for his tour. She certainly didn't expect him to come home.
Blaine melted into her embrace. He forgot how much he loved being in his mother's arms. "I hope you don't mind my just showing up," he said as they parted. "Should I have called?"
"No, no," Natalie said quickly. "It's perfectly ok that you're here. No need to call. Come in, come in."
Blaine followed his mother inside and was instantly hit with nostalgia. He could see himself running down the stairs and into the wall in an attempt to escape from Cooper. He remembered sitting at the top of the steps waiting for his father to get home in hopes that he was in a good mood so that he could tell him about his day at school. He could smell the aroma of the fireplace that his parents rarely used. Every so often, his father would send Cooper and him to bed early so that he could make a special dinner for his wife. Those nights were Blaine's favorite. He would sit halfway down the steps and watch his father twirl his mother around in the living room, their favorite love songs quietly playing in the background. It was those moments that Blaine saw the true man behind the hard mask.
"Is Dad still at the office?" Blaine wondered, his voice thick with emotion. He already knew the answer to that. His father always worked on the weekends. He just needed to make sure that John didn't change his routine.
"He is," Natalie confirmed. "He should be getting off soon." Blaine nodded but said nothing, his vision shifting up the stairs where his old room was. "Would you like some coffee?"
Blaine turned to her. "I'd love some, thanks. Do you mind if I...," he motioned to the top of the stairs.
"Yes, of course," Natalie said comfortingly. "It's exactly how you left it."
Blaine smiled a little. "Thanks. I'll be down in a minute."
Natalie smiled a little. She reached for her youngest and kissed his forehead before walking towards the kitchen. Blaine started up the stairs, his vision shifting to the family photos on the wall. He was pleasantly surprised to see that they hadn't changed. He had always assumed his father would make his mother switch them out after he left. Once he reached the top of the steps, he turned to look at the front door and took a seat. He felt like he was nine years old again, eager for his dad to get home.
Blaine waited anxiously as John walked inside. He had such exciting news to share and he really hoped that his dad was in a good mood. John glanced up the stairs as he took his jacket off and offered Blaine a small smile. "Hello, Blaine. How was school today?"
Blaine was bursting with joy. He ran down the steps and into John's arms. John hesitated for a moment before returning the hug. "Dad, you'll never guess what happened today!"
"The prettiest girl in school said hello to you?" John asked with a teasing smirk.
Blaine giggled. "No," he drew out. "I got a super cool part in the school musical!"
John raised a brow. "Is that so?" Blaine nodded enthusiastically. "And what musical is this?"
"You're a Good Man Charlie Brown!" Blaine shouted with an excitement that John didn't quite understand. "I get to play Snoopy, which everyone knows is like, the best part!"
"That's great, son," John said as he walked away, his tone indicating that he really had no interest in hearing anymore.
Blaine would not be deterred though. "You'll come right?" he asked with a hint of desperation, following his father towards his home office. "It's next month so you have time to call off work and stuff."
"I'm not sure yet, Blaine."
"And it's a musical so we get to sing and dance too!"
"I said I'm not sure yet, son."
"But you'll try, right?" Blaine asked, stopping at the doorway of John's office. "You'll try to come? It's going to be really cool, Dad, I promise!"
"I don't know, Blaine," John snapped. "Son, I have work to do. I can't talk about this right now. Close the door and have Cooper come get me when dinner is done."
Blaine deflated. "Yes, sir."
A single tear streamed down Blaine's face. "Happiness is singing together when the day is through, and happiness is those who sing with you," he sang softly. "Happiness is morning and evening, daytime and nighttime too. For happiness is anyone and anything at all that's loved by you."
Blaine had always loved music and the idea of performing. But it wasn't until he was in his first real play that he learned how much he truly enjoyed it, how much he truly needed music in his life. He never forgave his father for missing the play, and every school production that his father missed after that reminded him of how much a disappointment he was. What he didn't know was that John was at opening night of his first play and at every other production he was in. He snuck in the back once the play had begun and left at curtain call every single time. John knew he needed to show Blaine his support. He knew that he couldn't be like his own father and disregard his son's feelings. He just never knew how.
Blaine shook the memories away and stood up. He walked down the hall and stopped at his bedroom door. He opened it slowly and let out a laugh when he saw that his room was exactly how he left it. "They really didn't change anything," he said to himself in awe. It was like stepping back in time. Even his old computer was still on his desk. He walked over to his dresser and ran his fingers over the now empty picture frame. His father had known exactly what he was doing by taking Kurt the one family picture Blaine had in his room. He opened the drawers and his clothes were still neatly packed away inside. He would have to talk to his mother about donating some of his old things.
He walked to his closet and opened it, kneeling down to check if his boxes were still there. He smiled brightly when he found them immediately. He pulled one out and opened it. It was full of pictures of his childhood friends, playbills, and tools for his guitar. He searched through the bottom until he found his guitar pick necklace. He had been so disappointed in himself when he realized that he hadn't taken it with him. He slipped it into his pocket, put the box back, and stood up. He shifted through his clothes and stopped when he found his Dalton jacket. With a smile, he took it off the hanger and slipped it on. He wasn't at all surprised that it still fit. He hadn't grown much since high school. He turned to the full length mirror and shook his head. He had forgotten how much he loved his Dalton blazer.
"You always did look good in your uniform," Natalie said from the doorway.
Blaine looked at her through the mirror. "I forgot how much I loved wearing it. Dalton always was more of a home than this house," Blaine regretted his words the moment they fell out of his mouth. He turned around just in time to see his mother's face drop. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean that."
"Yes, you did," Natalie said with a sad smile. "But it's alright. I understand that your life here wasn't always a happy one," Blaine looked down and slipped the jacket off. "The coffee's ready by the way."
Blaine nodded, walking back to his closet to put the jacket away. "How long do you think it'll be before Dad gets home?"
"In about thirty minutes. Do you need to leave already?" Natalie asked sadly.
Blaine shook his head. "No. I'm not leaving until Dad and I talk. It's time.
Natalie offered him a relieved smile. "Ok. Let's have some coffee before he gets home."
John wasn't at all prepared for the onslaught of emotion that hit him when he entered the kitchen. He knew Blaine was there because of the bodyguards parked outside his house. He even sat in his car a moment longer than usual in order to muster up the courage he needed to speak to his youngest son before going inside. He had expected to feel regret; he felt it more and more each day. He expected to feel shame; he knew he wasn't the best father. He tried so hard not to become the man his father was only to realize years later that he had. What he didn't expect was how deep his regret would go, how shameful he would truly feel. He didn't except the sorrow or the fear that coursed through him the moment he saw his son. His son who was now a man and he missed it all. He hated himself for it.
Blaine was sitting on the counter much like when he was a young boy and the image sent a sharp pain into John's heart. He always yelled at Blaine for sitting there and now all he wanted to do was apologize for making it into such a big deal. Blaine looked up and the smile on his face dropped instantly. He slid off the counter and stood tall, almost as if daring John to scold him. John glanced at his wife who was watching their exchange warily before truly looking at his little boy. He was taller, though not by much, and his shoulders were much broader than John remembered. His face was fuller, his eyes just as vibrant as ever, and he wore a clean goatee. Blaine's facial hair hadn't quite grown in by the time he left home. John wondered who had been there to teach Blaine how to manage it.
"Hello, son," John finally spoke, his voice breaking at the end. Blaine's face softened a bit at the realization that his father was scared. "Welcome home."
"Hi, Dad," Blaine spoke and it shook John to the core. Blaine's voice was deeper than he remembered; it was stronger. "Kurt told me you went to see him."
John broke eye contact, unable to withstand the passionate anger in Blaine's eyes. "I did," he confirmed. "I hope I didn't overstep by speaking with him first."
Blaine looked at his father bemusedly, unsure of how to feel about his father's reaction towards him. Something was off. "You didn't. I'm just confused as to why you felt the need to go to him instead of me." John didn't answer and stared at the floor. "Why don't we go into your office, Dad? It's long overdue that we talked, don't you agree?"
John nodded and wordlessly walked away. Blaine waited a moment before following after him only to stop when his mother caught his arm. "Try not to be too harsh on him, Blaine."
Blaine gave her a small smile and nodded before walking off. He didn't bother to knock when he entered his father's office, closing the door behind him. Natalie stood outside the door, unable to resist listening in. It wasn't until Blaine told her that she learned her husband had gone to see Kurt. She was both shocked and elated. She hoped that they would finally bury the hatchet. She wanted her family back.
John's back was to Blaine, his hands in his pocket, his posture stiff. "I was never a very good father to you, Blaine."
"That's one way to put it," Blaine said dryly.
John lowered his head. "I was mean to you, and I was unsupportive. You were always such a strange child to me and instead of trying to understand you, I pushed you away. It's one of my biggest regrets."
"One of them?" Blaine asked with a humorless laugh. "What are the others, Dad? Not going to my plays? Ridiculing me in front of company? Oh, how about blaming me for getting my ass kicked? Do you regret that too?"
John finally turned to look at his son and didn't hold back the vulnerability that made him feel weak. "I never should've embarrassed you the way I had. And I didn't blame you. I blamed myself for being unable to protect you and I took it out on you. I'm sorry for that."
"You're sorry?" Blaine asked in disbelief, his voice rising. "For what? Years of neglect and hatred? And why? Because you didn't understand me? Because I was too compassionate for you to comprehend? That's a load of crap! You were awful to me because I'm gay and because I didn't give two shits about your stupid job and you know it!"
"That's not true," John argued though his tone lacked any real effort. He didn't want to fight with Blaine. He didn't have it in him anymore.
"It is true!" Blaine hollered. "Tell me why you never wanted to talk to me whenever I moved in with Cooper! Why did all of our three second conversations ended with, is your brother around? If it's not because you hated having me as a son, then tell me," he demanded. "Tell me why it's so hard for you to admit that I'm just one big disappointment to you."
"You have never been a disappointment," John said firmly and Blaine scoffed. "I'm serious, Blaine. I went to every single one of your school plays. I just hid in the back and left at curtain call. I was there for every missed step and forgotten line. I was there."
"Then why didn't you ever say anything?" Blaine challenged.
"Because I didn't want to ruin your moment," John spoke softly. "I didn't...I didn't want to say something that would somehow dim the light in your eyes. And I always talked to your brother because I could hear the hatred in your voice. I knew that talking to me was the last thing you wanted and I...I couldn't stand to hurt you anymore than I already had."
"Dad," Blaine whispered, shocked by his father's words.
"You have never been a disappointment, Blaine. Not ever."
Blaine shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. "Why now?" he asked, his voice breaking. "Why are you now reaching out to me? Is it because I found Kurt? Is it because Mom asked you to?"
John walked over to his son and unclipped his cuff. Blaine's jaw dropped when he saw the intertwining lines underneath his mother's name had all but faded completely. "I'm losing her and all because I've been too stubborn to admit I was wrong." John walked to his desk and took a seat, his thumb caressing Natalie's name. "I ignored the feeling of loss for a long time, not wanting to admit that I needed to change. And when the day came where I was finally brave enough to look at her name, my heart shattered. She's falling out of love with me and I have no one to blame but myself." Blaine took a seat in the chair across from his dad, his right hand subtly playing with his cuff. John looked up at Blaine with tears in his eyes. "I tried so hard to be a better man than my father and I turned out so much like him. I could apologize every single day for the rest of my life and it would still not make up for how I've treated you. I truly am so sorry, Blaine. Not showing my love for you will always be my biggest regret. I don't expect you to forgive me. I only hope that you can find it in your heart not to hate me."
"I've never hated you, Dad," Blaine said sounding more like a little boy than a grown man. "I hated how you treated me most times, and I hated how I could never do anything right. But not once did I ever hate you. You're my dad. All I've ever wanted is to make you proud."
"I am proud," John told him. "You left here with nothing but your love of song and a backpack of clothes and not only have you made it, you're one of the biggest pop stars around. You're a truly magnificent performer, Blaine. I have never been more proud."
Blaine looked away, a small smile on his lips. "How would you know I'm a truly magnificent performer? My school plays were hardly any indication."
"I've been to several of your concerts, son," John admitted. Blaine looked up surprised. "I was at the Columbus one too, way in the back amongst the screaming girls. Your ability to put forth so much passion amazes me."
"Really?"
"Really," John nodded. "I know that we are far from being the family that we should've been years ago, but I would like to try. I've already lost so much time with you. Please, don't let us lose more."
"I'd really love that," Blaine said with a small smile. "As crazy as it sounds, I've missed you, Dad."
John laughed, unable to believe his son's words. "I've missed you too, son. I've missed your spirit, even though I never appreciated it before."
Blaine half shrugged. "They say you don't miss something until it's gone, right?"
"Right," John nodded. "Would you...would you maybe like to stay for dinner? The three of us could catch up."
Blaine smiled wide and true and for the first time in years, John felt hope. "I'd love to."
