Mr Schue put down the phone and then looked up at Kurt and Finn.
"What did they say?" Mr Schue shook his head in reply. Kurt was incredulous. "Nothing? They're going to do nothing?"
Mr Schue sighed. "They can't do anything formal unless Blaine asks for their help." He offered a weak smile. "But they're going to send a car around to speak to his dad." It somehow seemed a pointless gesture.
"And that might make it a whole lot worse."
Finn looked at Kurt and nodded his agreement. "Kurt's right, Mr Schue. If he knows there's nothing they can do… he'll take it out on Blaine and it will be our fault!"
"We have to do something…" Kurt trailed off. He had never felt so helpless, but the terrible truth was, he knew there was very little they could do.
The door opened and Miss Pillsbury walked in. She had a troubled look upon her face.
"He's not in class and nobody's seen him since this morning…" She looked at Kurt and Finn. "What next?" she asked gently. She shifted her gaze to Mr Schue; how she loved him, but Mr Schue was staring blankly ahead.
"I don't know," he said in defeat. "I just don't know."
For the first time in a long time, Blaine knew what he had to do.
He was standing in his bedroom. He looked around the walls, at the childish pictures. At his cork board and the photos that showed him smiling and happy. They meant nothing to him anymore. If he was going to do this thing, he had to shrug off his past and leave it there.
He lay down on his bead and closed his eyes. He could see his dad's face. Red with fury and mad eyes with tiny black pinpricks in the middle. He felt the spittle, as it landed on his own face, but he had been too afraid to wipe it away. His dad had never hit him on the face before, and somehow, it had made it better. It had been easier to pretend. Now he felt like a victim. Now he felt exposed and violated and ashamed. But no more. He couldn't allow it to go on on. He couldn't allow his dad to hit him again. It wasn't just his body he was destroying, it was his soul.
He opened his eyes. No more.
Blaine stood up and went downstairs to wait for his dad.
"I know it sounds extreme, but it's the best I could come up with, okay?" Finn turned on Kurt angrily.
Kurt put out a hand. "I know and I'm sorry, but going around there and bashing him, just doesn't make any sense."
"I wanna make him pay for what he's done, Kurt." Finn's face was contorted by his fury.
Puck walked in. "Let's do this," he said, cracking his knuckles.
Finn shook his head.
"We're not doing this, Puck," Kurt said.
"No offence, but you'd just get in the way."
"No one is going to end up in jail, because of that man," Kurt said, ignoring the jibe. He took a steadying breath. "I know you're all worried, but we have to find Blaine and convince him he needs help." He blinked away his tears. "Even if it means losing his friendship. We have to make him see."
Puck looked at Finn, then back at Kurt. He shrugged. "So where is he then?"
"I don't know…" Kurt sat down next to Finn. He felt sick inside. "Ever since he walked out of here this morning, he hasn't answered his phone…"
"What about home?"
"Mercedes and Sam have gone to check, but they said they'd call if he was there and that was over an hour ago…" Kurt shrugged.
Finn stood up. His clenched fists belied his calm countenance.
"I'm sorry, Kurt," he said. "I can't just sit here… I have to do something…" Kurt went to speak, but Finn cut him off. "I've heard what you said, but it's not right he's getting away with this. I want him to try picking on someone his own size…"
He walked out of the choir room on jerky legs. His body rigid with anger.
Kurt looked up at Puck. "You have to stop him," he said desperately.
Puck shook his head slowly. "I don't think I want to," he said. He turned to go.
"Puck, wait!" Kurt stood up. "He's your friend."
Puck nodded. "Yeah, and I'm going to watch his back. He's not doing this alone."
"That's not how friendship works, Puck. You have to make him understand what he's risking. If he lays a finger on that man, it will be his future in jeopardy." He knew better than to touch Puck, but he walked closer to him. "Think about it. Finn's Mom doesn't have much. He'll get kicked out of school. He'll miss out on any chance of a football scholarship…" He trailed off and sat back down in defeat. "Do what you have to do," he said finally.
Sam and Mercedes walked in.
"He wasn't there…" Sam looked at Puck. "Everything okay?" he asked, sensing the tension.
Puck nodded. "It will be," he said and walked out of the room.
Downstairs in the kitchen of his family home, Blaine was moving as if in a trance. He felt as if he was drifting to the bottom of the sea. Every movement was slow.
Not long, he told himself. He opened the kitchen drawer and looked at all the knives.
He heard his dad snoring from the front room. He pictured him, slumped on his chair. Asleep and drooling.
Never again, he told himself.
Officer Carlisle leant back in his seat and closed his eyes. It had been a long shift and he had one more job he had to do before he could go home. Just a quick house-call. Nothing more than a mild warning to some guy who had been beating on his kid. He hated those bastards. They didn't care about him standing there telling him to back off. They smiled at him, but their eyes were full of contempt. He would like to have a moment alone with them.
The door opened and his partner, Wiley jumped in. She handed him a coffee and a bag. He inhaled the warm, sweet odour.
Officer Wiley yawned and then sipped her own coffee and then laughed at her partner.
"You look like you died and went to heaven," she said.
Officer Carlisle took his nose out of the bag. "I gotta eat me one of these before I go anywhere," he said taking a huge bite of donut.
Officer Wiley shrugged. "You got no argument from me," she said, plunging her hand into the bag.
Blaine saw his hand shaking uncontrollably as he selected a knife. He had felt so numb before. So cold, but now suddenly, he was in turmoil. His face crumpled in his forgotten pain, but it wasn't pain of his body, it was pain of his heart. He saw Kurt's face flash before his eyes.
"Kurt," he said softly. He held the knife tightly and watched his knuckles go white. The pain surged recklessly inside him and for a moment, he felt he would fall to the floor, but he couldn't be weak. "I'm so sorry," he whispered as tears streaked down his face.
"That you, Blaine?" his dad called out. His voice sounded thick with sleep and booze.
Blaine closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing.
"Coming, Dad," he said and wiped the tears from his eyes.
Finn stood looking at the house. It looked like a regular house. The only thing was the drawn curtains. It was the middle of the afternoon and it was a warm day. He imagined Blaine's dad sitting in his own filth. He imagined him enjoying himself as he laid into his son. His friend.
"So, what's the plan?" Puck asked. He looked sideways at Finn. He trusted Finn to do the right thing.
"No plan," Finn said quietly.
"Dude, we gotta have a plan."
Finn looked at Puck. "I going to tell him, nicely, he has to stop hitting his son and that he needs professional help…" He held up a pamphlet. Miss Pillsbury had given it to him; 'I'm a Monster because I hit my son: What now?'
"And if he doesn't listen?"
"I'll make him."
Puck sighed. "Listen, I got your back," he said. He placed a hand on Finn's shoulder. "But you gotta think about your future…." He trailed off. He wasn't very good at motivational speaking. He tried to remember what Kurt had said. It had all made startling good sense to him. "If you get busted for assault, you'll lose any chance of wining a football scholarship."
Finn frowned. "Did Kurt tell you to say this?"
Puck nodded. "It makes sense though, doesn't it? Why risk it all for him?" He gestured to the house.
"I'm not risking it for him," Finn said. "I'm risking it for Blaine." He smiled. "And besides, it's not assault if he throws the first punch."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for the slow updates... :-(