Disclaimer: Glee does not belong to me.
A/N: The response for the first chapter was out-freaking-standing! I love you people!
Now, I know this story is kinda cliche, but I really hope you find that this one is a little different than the others out there! :)
This has been changed from T to M because of possible triggers and mentions of child abuse, so I hope that doesn't scare anyone off.
The text is short and simple, yet it launches a million different thoughts into Kurt's head.
[Frankenteen; 10:17] hey kurt, u need to com home now.
He nearly drops the phone. Mercedes gives him a questioning look, but he waves it off with a fake smile. He checks the phone again, making sure it was real. It was; Finn had in fact texted him. He types out a response and proceeds to hold the phone in a death-grip until Finn texts back.
[You; 10:19] What's going on? Is Dad all right?
[Frankenteen; 10:20] burts fine. its blaine.
He does actually drop the phone this time. It clatters to the kitchen floor, the back falling off. Mercedes' head whips around, the noise startling her.
Kurt's mouth is hanging open; his glasz eyes are wide. A hand has found its way to his mouth, covering it in shock. He's shaking his head, in disbelief most likely.
"What's wrong, boo?" Mercedes asks, her dark brown eyes wide with worry. He shakes his head more vigorously this time, bending over to retrieve his phone. Once he has it, he runs out of the room. He's running to the door, ignoring Mercedes' calls. He grabs his boots, yanking them on as he shimmies into his pea coat. He's out the door in five seconds flat, sliding down the slippery driveway to his car.
He jumps in and starts it, the engine roaring to life. He doesn't leave yet though; he sits for a minute, paralyzed by both fear and worry. He doesn't know why, but he can't move. He shakes his head again, trying to clear his racing mind. He pulls out of the driveway, speeding down the street to get home as soon as possible.
"What do you mean?" Burt asks once Blaine is finished speaking. He's no longer sobbing into Finn's chest, but the tears still run down his cheeks freely and fast. He's sitting on the couch, Burt and Carole standing near him. Finn's staying close, seated next to him, texting someone on his phone. His face is concentrated, worried.
"He says I'm the reason my mother died. That she was too disappointed in me for being a 'stupid fag' to deal with us anymore." He swallows, but the lump doesn't go away. "And so he told me he hated me and beat the shit out of me to prove it. And I told him I was leaving and he said…" Blaine trails off, wiping at his eyes. Finn lays a hand on his knee, and he pulls the blanket tighter around himself. Burt's eyes are begging him to continue, the man's hands balling into fists at his sides. "He said 'Go ahead. But if you walk out that door, you better never come back. You're not my son.' So I left. And I guess I came here." He finishes in an uncharacteristically small voice, barely more than a whisper.
Carole gasps, feeling tears prick her eyes. She doesn't know why someone could ever hate someone like Blaine, someone caring and nice. Someone who always finds the best in people.
Someone like Kurt.
"How can someone do that to you, Blaine? You're just a kid." Burt's voice is ridden with venom. Blaine looks at him, surprised. He didn't expect the man to care, but Burt looks about ready to kill someone. Carole crosses the room, tugging Blaine into another warm embrace. Blaine knows Carole's crying; the tears soak into his tee shirt.
"You're welcome to stay here." She speaks, and Blaine's heart plummets. He pulls away, dropping the blanket.
"I could n-never. I-I shouldn't have come. I… I'm sorry." He moves to the door, but a firm hand grips his shoulder. He hisses in a mixture of pain and fear, already flashing back to what his father did to him. The hand withdraws immediately, sensing his fear and hearing the gasp of pain.
"Sorry, but you're not going anywhere." Burt's voice is firm, yet concerned. Blaine fights an inner battle, slowly nodding. "Kurt'll be home in a few minutes."
Blaine's heart begins racing again. How will Kurt react? Will he be angry? Worried? Sad? …Scared? Blaine's scared, and not just of his father. He's scared of what his father could become, lashing out and hurting him again.
He jumps when the front door flies open. He half-expects to see the red, angry face of his father, but he knows that the man would never find him here. He could never know where Kurt lives, nor could he know that this is the place Blaine would have come.
Instead, it's Kurt. Beautiful Kurt, amazing Kurt, his Kurt. The boy's own pretty eyes are wide, his hands shaking as he slams the heavy door behind him. He's across the room in seconds, pulling Blaine into a bone-crushing hug. Blaine notices that this family gives a lot of freaking hugs.
"What's going on? Why're you here? Why are you crying? Are those bruises? What happened to your lip? You're freezing! Are those Finn's clothes? Where's your car? Did you walk here?" The questions rattle off, but Blaine doesn't answer his boyfriend. He just hugs him tighter, relishing in his scent of mint and strawberries and Kurt.
"Kurt, why don't you take Blaine up to your room and let him get some sleep?" Burt's voice is softer, less hostile now that Kurt is home. "Carole and I need to discuss a few things."
Kurt doesn't respond, he just grabs Blaine's hand and tugs him up the stairs. Finn follows, but Kurt slams his bedroom door in the tall boy's face. Finn doesn't protest, he knows that Blaine and Kurt really need to talk.
"Take off your shirt." Kurt commands, and Blaine almost laughs.
"You're really trying to get me out of my clothes?" He tries to make a light-hearted joke, but his voice is flat, hoarse. Kurt crosses his arms, and Blaine sighs. He pulls the large shirt over his head, keeping his eyes glued to the ground. Kurt gasps, and Blaine really didn't expect him to do otherwise.
"What the hell happened?" Kurt grinds out, his jaw clenched. Blaine's eyes fly to Kurt's, and he sees the anger and resentment. The last time Blaine saw that look in someone's eyes was right before he was kicked in the side.
"My dad." And the anger is gone. Instead, confusion and sadness fills its place. The usually bright blue-green-grey eyes are filling with tears, and it almost makes Blaine collapse right there.
"He did this?" A pale hand reaches out to touch his chest, gently lying on a purple bruise.
"It's not a big deal." Blaine mutters, and Kurt puts his hands on Blaine's shoulders, firmly, but trying not to irritate his injuries.
"This is a very big deal. This is child abuse! He can't just do that, Blaine! You can't just let him!" Kurt's eyes have reverted to frantic again, and he's making Blaine look him in the eyes. Blaine swallows again.
"What am I supposed to do? I can't- I can't do anything!" Blaine's trying not to start crying again, because Jesus Christ he's done enough of that tonight. "I'm just so scared of him."
Kurt doesn't know what to do. His boyfriend is standing in his bedroom looking like hell, and Kurt is useless. He wants to help; dear God he wants to help, but he knows that if Blaine's afraid, shit must really be bad.
He settles for being the caring boyfriend, not the violent one.
"I have some cream that'll help with those bruises." Kurt says softly, and Blaine nods.
"Burt, honey. You can't just kick that kid out onto the street!" Carole argues with her husband, and he sighs heavily.
"I know that. I just don't know if I want him sharing a room with Kurt." He's only ever met this Blaine-kid a few times, and the first and second impressions weren't exactly… appropriate.
"I'm pretty sure sex is the last thing on Blaine's mind at the moment. He's kinda torn up right now." Finn's voice pipes in from the doorway, and Burt covers his ears.
"Do not talk about that!" He shrieks, and Finn shrugs awkwardly. Carole slaps Burt's shoulder lightly, a frown set deep in her lips. Burt knows she means business.
"Blaine needs to be comforted, and that's why he came here. He knows that Kurt wouldn't ever push him away, and we're not going to change that. Blaine needs a family right now, and we're going to provide that for him." Burt nods; he knows his wife is right.
"I guess he can stay there until we find a way to get a room for the kid. It's better than him sleeping on the couch, I suppose." Carole is proud of Burt. She knows that this is his little boy they're talking about, but Blaine is much more important right now. The boy shows up cold, wet, and bleeding, expecting to be comforted by his boyfriend. He walked two hours in the snow just to be with Kurt, and Carole understands that the boy loves him.
She won't let Burt push him away; it'd be pushing away the love of Kurt's life.
Blaine insists that he isn't tired, but as soon as Kurt pulls him into his arms, the shorter boy is out like a light. His features relax when he sleeps, and he would look like an angel if it weren't for the red-rimmed eyes, split lip, and bruises. Kurt hugs him tighter, and Blaine sinks into his grasp.
Kurt is confused. He wasn't really told any details about the fight; Blaine didn't want to talk about it. All he mentioned was the death of his mother and something about his father blaming Blaine for it. Kurt doesn't know why the man would ever blame Blaine for something like that; Kurt knows that Blaine's mother was killed in a car crash.
He sighs loudly, and Blaine feels the movement of his chest. He squirms a little, but gradually relaxes back into his boyfriend's possessive grip.
Kurt lets himself drift to sleep with Blaine's warm head on his chest and his strong arms wrapped around his waist.
"It's all your fault she's dead."
"Dad, I didn't do anything!"
"She was taking you to your stupid fag school. You should have died, not her."
A punch. He's on the ground. A kick.
"Dad! Stop it!"
"I'll stop when you stop being a homo."
Another kick, this time in the back.
"I can't change who I am."
"You can sure as hell try."
The kicks become more frequent, harder. He screams, just wanting it to stop.
"Please, just stop."
"You're pathetic."
The beating stops. Blaine takes a deep breath, sucking air back into his empty lungs. He struggles to his feet, stumbling to the door.
"I'm leaving."
"Go ahead. But remember; if you walk out that door, you better not ever come back. You're not my son."
It's three in the morning and Blaine is screaming. Heart wrenching, blood-curdling, tear-forming cries. He's thrashing around, kicking and punching the air.
"Blaine!" Kurt cries, trying to calm down the scared boy. Blaine doesn't wake up, and his screams turn to whimpers.
"Dad, please stop." He's saying softly, curling his arms around his body. He stops thrashing and curls into a ball, trying to defend himself. He's crying now, tears rolling down his cheeks. Kurt doesn't want to touch him, for fear of setting the terrified teen off again.
Kurt doesn't know what to do. He knows the nightmares are about Blaine's father, and he doesn't know how to make them end.
"Kurt!" Finn's voice is outside the door, calling worriedly. "What's going on? Is Blaine okay?" Kurt runs to the door, throwing it open to see Finn standing with a wooden baseball bat clutching in his hands. He's surprised it's not his father, Blaine was screaming really loud. But then he remembers that Burt and Carole's bedroom is downstairs on the other side of the house and Burt is a really heavy sleeper anyway.
"He's having a nightmare. I can't wake him up." Finn crosses into the room, hurrying to Kurt's bed. He lays a hand on Blaine's shoulder and the boy recoils. Luckily he stays silent, but his face is contorted in fear and anger.
"Blaine." Finn says, shaking his shoulder gently. "You gotta wake up." Blaine doesn't respond. Finn turns to Kurt, his brown eyes wide in concern. "You try, he'll listen to you better."
"Blaine, baby." Kurt coos, knowing Blaine hates that nickname. He doesn't care though, because Blaine's beginning to calm down. The tears have stopped. "It's alright, Blaine. I'm here. It's me, Kurt. Wake up please." Kurt knows he's pleading, but he really is desperate at this point.
Blaine's eyes are moving under his eyelids, and they snap open. They're wide with fear, the tiny flecks of gold glowing in the moonlight.
"You're okay now." Kurt pulls his boyfriend to his chest; rubbing circles in his back in what he hopes is a soothing manner. It seems to work, because Blaine's thudding heartbeat quiets and his breathing slows.
"Thanks." The boy whispers, and Kurt almost doesn't notice he had said anything.
"Just relax." Blaine does so, letting Kurt's warm scent wash over him.
"Do you guys want me to stick around?" Finn asks, patting the baseball bat in his hands. Kurt seems apprehensive, but Blaine nods vigorously.
"Why not, we'll spoon." Kurt pats the space next to him, and Finn throws the bat to the ground, settling onto the bed. He leans back against the headboard, and Kurt lets go of Blaine to move up next to him.
He opens his arms wide, and Blaine sinks into his grasp. They turn onto their sides, staying intertwined the whole time. Finn clears his throat awkwardly. Kurt rolls his eyes and grabs Finn's hand. Finn grips it back tightly, letting his other hand find Blaine's. He knows that Kurt loves having his hand held when he's stressed, and he hopes Blaine feels the same way.
They stay lying like that, sharing the large queen sized bed and letting the warmth of their bodies lull each other into another deep, hopefully non-bad-dream-interrupted, sleep.
"Boys!" Carole's voice rings up the stairs, waking Finn up. He jerks, sitting straight up. He notices that his hands are still linked with his stepbrother's and his boyfriend's hands. He smiles, thanking God that they stayed asleep.
"Hey, Kurt." He pokes his brother in the side, and Kurt groans.
"What do you want, Finnessa?" Kurt is cranky in the morning, and Finn is pretty used to the offensive names.
"Mom says to wake up." Kurt yawns and opening his eyes, attempting to stretch his arms. He ends up lightly hitting Finn in the chest and Blaine in the side. Blaine squirms and opens his eyes, squinting like a child.
"Fine." Kurt groans again and sits up. He untangles his limbs from Blaine's and rolls out of bed. He ambles to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Blaine rolls over again, burying his face into Kurt's fluffy pillows.
"Morning." Finn says cheerfully, and Blaine shrugs his shoulders a little. "Gosh," Finn comments. "You're not a morning person either." Blaine rolls back over to the side again, giving Finn a cross between a smile and a yawn.
"Thanks, Finn. For last night." He's humble, yet sincere. Finn gives a little goofy smile, his lopsided grin looking completely dorky.
"No problem. You're my little brother's boyfriend. And now you're practically family."
A/N: I don't know how I pulled it off, but I managed to make that both angsty and fluffy. Success!
I am in love with Kinn/Furt loving-brotherness, and I'm pretty sure Finn would treat Blaine the same way, no? I know there was a lot of cuddling, but I needed that. Didn't you?
Tell me what you though of this, reviews are amazingly-awesome!
Next chapter should be up sometime soon, seeing as I have no FREAKING life. Eh, what can you do? *JohnBoehnershrug*
lessthanthree,
Max