"Where is he?" Kurt asked. He glanced at his iPhone display for the hundredth time, and unlocked it to call his son once again.

"He's probably just busy with his friends," Blaine reassured his husband. "Mason knows not to miss curfew, babe. Let's just wait. I'm sure he'll be home soon."

Kurt still felt uneasy, though. Mason had just turned seventeen, and was going to his junior prom. He had been out of the closet for almost two months, and was still struggling to adjust to how the people at his school viewed him. He had gone to the dance with another boy, and even though they lived in New York City, that was uncommon for the prestigious school Mason attended.

It was 1:48. His curfew was two. Mason's date, Peter, had promised to have him home safe and sound by that time. Kurt and Blaine were both exhausted and ready to go to sleep, but couldn't rest easy until their only child was home again.

"I'm going to wait for him in the living room," Kurt went on, pushing the covers off of him and retreating to wait by the front door. He just wanted his son to be safe, and grew more and more anxious as the minutes ticked by.

At two o'clock, there was still no sign of Mason.

At two-ten, Blaine joined Kurt waiting on the couch.

At two-fifteen, Kurt couldn't help but try to call him until he answered. Every time it sent him to voicemail, and the panic in his gut grew exponentially.

2:34. Kurt and Blaine would always remember 2:34. There was the faintest knock on the door, barely audible to them even though they were merely a few feet away.

Blaine pulled the front door open, and there was their son. A rush of chilly April air blew in with him, and Mason fell forward into Kurt's waiting arms. He trembled violently, and Kurt and Blaine couldn't help but notice his torn suit and battered body.

Mason was a mess. His hair was matted down with blood, he had scratches and cuts all over his face, arms, and hands. He hunched over, sobbing in his father's arms until he gave in and vomited on the hardwood floor.

"Mase, what happened?" Blaine demanded, helping Kurt ease him onto the couch. "Where's Peter? Who hurt you?"

Mason curled up in a ball, hiding his face in Kurt's chest as he cried in pain. Kurt didn't care about him breaking curfew anymore. Now it was up to him and Blaine to find whoever did this to their son, and kill them. Kurt thought back to his own junior prom, and how humiliated he felt. And then there was Blaine's Sadie Hawkins dance. It was like history repeating, only a million times worse because Mason was their son, their son they had promised to protect from everything bad in the world. Yet, here he was, crying and broken and terrified, and Kurt and Blaine could do nothing to take back what had happened.

Blaine had managed to keep a level head, and was trying to clean up some of Mason's wounds and talk to him at the same time. Kurt helped him sit up, even though he could hardly hold his head upright. He could barely manage to speak, but was able to tell them the basic details of how he got so hurt.

Peter was walking him home when the homophobes from their school attacked. They left Peter unconscious, and Mason had to stumble the last three blocks home on his own. His phone was dead and no one was out in the alley they chose to cut through.

Kurt knew what they needed to do. He got Mason ready to go to the hospital while Blaine called the police and Peter's parents, who were awake wondering about their son's whereabouts, as well. Blaine drove, with Mason in the back laying his head in Kurt's lap. It was pretty obvious he had a concussion, and his left ankle could barely support any weight by the time they made it to the car.

Kurt stroked his son's hair the whole way they drove through the dark. Mason moaned occasionally when Blaine hit a bump or came to an abrupt stop, but other than that didn't offer a word. Kurt remembered his own high school days, when he was the one being physically attacked for being gay. When Mason was born, he and Blaine were certain they could protect him from all that.

But they were wrong. Very, very wrong. Kurt hated having to find that out the hard way.

The doctors at the hospital were sympathetic and gentle. They let Kurt and Blaine stay with Mason the entire time they examined and x-rayed him from every angle, until it was determined he had a severe concussion and fractured tibia. They were all puzzled how he managed to walk home on it, but within an hour the bones were set and he was resting comfortably with some morphine and a mild sedative. The doctor predicted he would be able to go home later in the day, after police reports were filed and Mason was feeling well enough to give an official statement.

Kurt and Blaine stayed in their son's hospital room that night. He fell asleep after hours of being too scared to relax, and then the two of them were left with each other.

"This shouldn't have happened," Kurt said quietly, holding his son's hand and watching him breathe.

"He'll be okay," Blaine promised, moving his hand around Kurt and letting him lean against him. It was now pushing four-thirty, and they were both emotionally and physically drained. They met Peter's parents in the waiting room when their son was brought in by an ambulance. He was in much worse shape, and had required emergency surgery.

"We should've made him come home earlier," Kurt went on. "Nothing good happens after midnight."

"There was no way to know that this would happen," Blaine told him, rubbing his husband's back. He knew Kurt would go to his grave blaming himself for what had happened. "It's not your fault. I thought the guys that beat me up were my friends. He knows being gay is gonna be hard, even in New York. The only thing we can do now is get justice for him and Peter. But let's just start with tonight. All he needs right now is for us to be here with him. Let's get some rest before he wakes up. Tomorrow's gonna be a long day. Don't blame yourself for this, Kurt. Please don't think it was your fault, because it's not. Okay?"

Kurt nodded, even though he still couldn't shake the guilt from the back of his mind. A lone tear dripped from his chin, until he forced himself to remain strong for their son. That was the only option they had left.

Author's Notes:

Well, this is obviously an AU. I wanted to write Kurt and Blaine with a child that turned out to be gay, and was having a hard time doing that with the traditional original characters I write as their children. So, Mason Anderson-Hummel and this AU was born. Biologically Blaine's, but with the heart of a true Hummel (no one pushes them around).

I've gotten several kind reviews in my (lengthy) hiatus, and spent today working on an update just for you guys! Thank you for being patient. I've been celebrating my birthday and preparing for the ACT recently, both of which have forced me to give writing a little break. But, with Thanksgiving and Christmas break rapidly approaching, soon I will have enough free time to give you guys some prompt fills, and (hopefully) the first chapters of my new full-length story I've been working on since this summer. I can't wait for you guys to read it!