AN: Hey guys, I'm back :D Hope you all havn't got bored and left me while I've been away. But exams are all over now and I have nothing to do for weeks, so hopefully lots of updates.

A few things first...

I'm thinking of changing the name of the story...is that a terrible idea? I only picked 'Help' because I hadn't thought about a title at all until I uploaded it and just wanted to publish it as quickly as possible. I don't even know if it's possible to change the title on , but if it is, I thought I would leave it in brackets for a few chapters so people realise it's the same story.

If anyone has any ideas for good titles, I would love to hear them, I'm rubbish at coming up with them.

Burt looked back at Blaine in his rear view mirror. He hadn't said a word since leaving the hospital, just sat with his head resting against the window, cradling his injured arm against his body and staring aimlessly at the passing scenery.

He cleared his throat a few times as if he was about to speak, although he honestly couldn't have told you what he was planning to say, but was interrupted as Blaine's voice drifted forwards, quiet, almost under his breath, as if he hadn't meant to speak aloud at all.

'You don't have to do this. I'd be fine at home.' Burt's eyes met Carole's and she shook her head sadly before turning around in her seat to face Blaine.

'Blaine, honey, we are not leaving you alone right now.' She tried to catch his eyes, but he stayed staring out the window. He was silent for a few moments, and then continued as if he hadn't heard her at all.

'They might not ring back today. They usually take a few days to answer.'

Blaine finally pushed himself away from the window but kept his arms wrapped tightly around his body and his eyes looking down.

'Would you like us to call their secretary again, let them know that you want them home?' His eyes darted to Carole's face, wide and afraid.

'No, no, I don't…that's not what I meant. Don't call them, please. I just thought…You just might not want to put up with me for that long.' Blaine's voice trailed off and he seemed to physically fold in on himself.

Burt felt his heart sink at how little Blaine clearly thought of himself and how long and hard an uphill struggle it was going to be to help set him back on his feet.

'No-one is putting up with you, Blaine.' Burt said, 'You are always welcome at our house. Any time, for however long.' When it was clear Blaine wasn't going to respond, Burt reluctantly dragged his eyes back to the road.

After a few moments, Blaine once again broke the silence. It occurred to Burt that perhaps he needed those seconds, that space with no-one looking at him, no-one expecting anything from him to gather himself, build his courage. The fact that he needed such courage to do something as simple and natural as speaking broke his heart, but at least he felt safe enough to do so at all, he thought.

'They'll be angry.' Burt wasn't sure exactly what Blaine meant, but he stayed quiet, giving Blaine the time he needed to find his voice.

'My parents. They'll be angry.'

'We're all angry at what he did, Bl…'

'No. At me. They'll be angry at me.' Burt's stomach clenched at the certainty in Blaine's voice, the resignation.

'Blaine, what could they possibly have to be angry with you for? None of this was your fault.'

'I flirted with him. I went on a date with him.' Blaine spat out the words as if their taste on his tongue disgusted him and tears filled Carole's eyes at the venom Blaine directed towards himself.

'You didn't know what he would do, Blaine. You couldn't have known.' She pleaded with him to believe her.

'I knew he was a man, didn't I? That's bad enough in their eyes.'

Neither Burt nor Carole knew what to say, how to start dealing with that on top of everything else that had happened, was still happening. They drove the rest of the way home in silence.

When they arrived home Blaine stood awkwardly in the living room, not sure what was expected from him, playing nervously with the cuffs of his jumper. He was wearing an old tracksuit of Finn's that Carole had grabbed before they left for the hospital. The clothes swamped him, and for some reason he felt safer hidden beneath them.

Burt looked at Blaine and couldn't help but think how young he looked, with his hands hidden beneath his sleeves, the ends of his trouser-legs pooled at his feet and his eyes wide and unsure. He looked so small and vulnerable, he could probably pass for 13, and that thought sent a new wave of revulsion through him at what had been done to him.

'Would you like something to eat, Blaine?' He asked.

Blaine suddenly realised how ravenous he was. It was well past lunch and his stomach was clenching with hunger, but the thought of sitting down at a table with Burt and Carole, having to make conversation, having to act human when he felt anything but, made him feel physically sick.

'I think I'd like to lie down, please. I'm tired.'

'Of course. It's probably best if you take Kurt's room for now.' Burt said. 'I'd hate to think what you might come across in Finn's.'

Blaine followed Burt up to Kurt's bedroom and sat perched on the edge of the bed looking down at his hands, uncomfortable under the older man's gaze.

'Do you need anything, or…?' Burt started to ask.

'No, thank-you.'

'Ok, well, we're right downstairs if you do.' Blaine nodded his head and Burt left the room, closing the door behind him. Blaine stayed where he was on the end of the bed. He could hear Burt breathing on the other side of the door, see the outline of his shoes in the small gap at the floor.

After a few moments, when he heard Burt's footsteps fade away, Blaine stood, closed the curtains and turned off the light before sitting back down on the bed, with his back pressed against the headboard and his knees curled tightly into his chest.

He wanted to believe the things Burt and Carole had said to him, he really did, but he was bombarded by the voices of others, degrading him and tearing him down. Those voices had been there so long, were so loud and incessant, so thoroughly drilled into him that he couldn't push them aside.

'You're disgusting.' 'It's a perversion.' 'Just one big disappointment.'

And now they were joined by another voice, hot and heavy in his ear, sickening and shameful.

'Beautiful little whore.' 'Giving you what you deserve.' 'You like this, don't you?'

Blaine clamped his hands over his ears and pressed his face into his knees. He tried to cling to Burt and Carole's words, repeating them over and over in an attempt to drown the voices out, but hard as he tried, he felt them slip away into nothingness as memories engulfed him.

Burt stood outside Kurt's bedroom. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but just didn't like the thought of leaving Blaine alone. Since giving his statement he had withdrawn more and more, and the thought of him scared and alone, trapped within his memories tore at Burt. But what could he do? Blaine had asked to be alone and he had to respect his wishes.

Reluctantly he dragged himself away and made his way downstairs, where Carole was laying sandwiches on the table. He looked over to her and without words they both gravitated towards each other, to a comforting embrace. He could feel her tears on his chest, their roles from last night reversed.

They sat in silence, neither stomaching more than a few bites of food.

'He was date-raped.' Burt suddenly blurted out. He didn't know if Carole even wanted to know the details, but he needed to get it out. 'By some man in his 30s.' He didn't even try to keep the disgust out of his voice.

'He met him at some coffee shop. He fucking groomed him, Carole.' He brought his fist down hard onto the table, and the cutlery and plates clattered under the force.

'Kurt was there. Oh god, what if he'd hurt Kurt?' Burt brought his hands to his face. 'Does that make me an awful person? That I'm glad he didn't choose Kurt? Jesus. Blaine's up there falling to pieces and I'm glad it happened to him.'

'You're not glad it happened, Burt.' Carole took his hands in hers across the table. 'Of course you're happy Kurt is safe, any parent would be. We just have to be there for Blaine now. From what he said about his parents, I think he's going to need us to be.'

She ran a frustrated hand through her hair before bringing it back to Burt's.

'They clearly haven't been accepting of his sexuality, but do you really think they'll blame him for this?' Carole questioned. 'I can't imagine anyone being that heartless, especially to their own child.'

Burt shrugged his shoulders.

'Who knows?' He sighed. 'That fact they don't even care enough to call back when he's been hurt doesn't exactly fill me with hope.'

'What d we do if Kurt and Finn call?' Carole suddenly asked, as if the thought had just occurred to her.

'God, I hadn't even thought?' Burt replied. 'It's not our place to tell, we can't break Blaine's trust like that, but Kurt is going to know something's wrong, even over the phone, he always does.'

'I guess we'll have to ask Blaine. Maybe if we just tell them he's staying with us because he got hurt and his parents are out of town?'

'You know Kurt's not going to accept that.' Burt shook his head. 'The second he hears Blaine's hurt he's going to be on the next plane home.' 'Like his parents should be' he thought bitterly.

'I guess we'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it.' Carole stood and began to clear away their barely touched plates of food.

It was many hours later, nearly 8pm, when Blaine still hadn't emerged from Kurt's room, that Burt decided to check on him. He really didn't know much about these things, but he was sure that hiding away on his own wasn't a healthy way for Blaine to be handling this.

He knocked softly on the door and nudged it open a crack. At first he thought Blaine was asleep; the lights were off and the room was quiet, but as his eyes adjusted to the dark he saw that Blaine was sitting huddled at the corner of the bed with his head on his knees, shaking.

'Oh, Blaine.' He exhaled, desperately saddened by the sight before him. He turned on the light, but was immediately met with a cry from Blaine.

'No, no. Turn it off, please turn it off.'

'Ok, Blaine, it's ok.' Burt switched the light back off and stood at the corner of the room, waiting for Blaine to relax back against the headboard before he approached the bed.

'Is it ok if I sit down, Blaine?' Burt stayed a few feet away from the bed, making it clear that Blaine had the choice. After a few seconds he nodded his head.

'When I was little I used to get really scared of the dark.' Blaine started speaking suddenly. Burt wasn't sure why he was sharing this with him now, but he had a feeling that it was immensely important that he do nothing more than let Blaine talk and listen.

'I thought there would be monsters waiting.' Blaine continued, looking straight ahead as if Burt was not there. 'And my mum told me that it was ok, because if I couldn't see them, then they didn't exist. If I kept the light off, and closed my eyes then I could go to sleep because there were no monsters.'

Burt could understand why this old memory would occur to Blaine now. Now that he had new monsters to deal with.

'We used to have this thing at school where every Friday we would all bring in a toy and swap with someone else...

Blaine sat cross-legged in the front room.. The television was on, but he was far too preoccupied to pay any attention. He held his new toy gently in one hand, as if he were afraid he might break it, and carefully and meticulously brushed her long hair with the tiny plastic comb.

He had wanted a doll ever since he had seen them in the toy store, but his mother had hurriedly rushed him past with a flustered look around her when he had asked for one. He looked up with an excited grin as he heard his father enter the room, ready to show off his toy and how beautiful he had made her look.

'What is that?' His father practically growled at him.

'It's a Barbie, daddy.' Blaine answered with a wide grin.

'Yes, I know what it is. But why have you got it?'

'I swapped with Cassie. Isn't she pretty? She comes with all of these things.' He spread his hands over the array of miniature clothes and accessories that lay around him, showing them off excitedly to his father. 'And you can change her clothes and…'

Blaine was shocked out of his babbling as his father wrenched the doll from his hand and angrily threw it into the bin.

'You do not play with dolls, do you hear me?' Blaine sat open mouthed. Why was his dad angry? 'Dolls are for girls. I will not have my son playing with girl's toys like some kind of… urgh.'

The next thing he knew Blaine was yanked to his feet by a strong hand around his wrist and dragged towards the stairs.

'Daddy, you're hurting me,' he cried out, so confused. But his father paid no attention, pulling him up the stairs at such a rate that his little legs tripped and stumbled and he grazed his knee on the rough carpet.

'Please, Daddy. I won't play with dolls again, I promise.'

The next thing he knew, he was pushed into his bedroom and the door was slammed shut behind him. No further explanation was given.

He stood in his bedroom, trembling, crying. He didn't understand, didn't know what he had done, but he had a strange sense that it wasn't just something he had done that had angered his father. It was more than that. It was him, something he was that he didn't like, that was wrong. He could feel this unknown thing looming over him like a spectre.

'I'm sorry, Daddy' he whispered into the empty room. 'I'll be better, I'll be different, I promise.'

He thought then of his mother's words, that if you couldn't see the monsters then they didn't exist. He reached up onto the tips of his toes, stretching his arm as far as it would reach until he felt the light switch click beneath his fingers.

He wanted to curl up in his bed and go to sleep, but he couldn't. He had been bad, he had made his Daddy not like him, he didn't deserve his bed. So he tucked himself into a little ball under his desk, and waited for the monsters to disappear.

Burt sat opposite him, tears evident in his eyes. Blaine wanted so badly to reach across, to cling to Burt, but the distance between them felt like a cavern that he could never cross.

'They hate me. They hate me and they hate what I am.' He whispered into the darkness.

AN: I really don't know why I keep heaping the pain on top of Blaine. Is this too much?

Anyways, I hope this wasn't a disappointment after the break. Reviews and constructive criticism always welcome :)