Kurt had prepared himself for a long and difficult conversation with Burt Hummel. He had not prepared to be greeted by the man he was (still) in love with. And what made Kurt stop in his tracks … what made his heart plummet and his stomach rise up into his throat was the sight of this man's face. "Blaine," his voice rose slightly higher. "What happened to your face?"
Blaine's gaze lowered. The shame and embarrassment infiltrated through a deep blush into his bruised face. After eight months, Kurt hadn't asked him why he was in his house or how he was doing. He had asked him about his face. His ugly beat up face. "Um, I just … got roughed around a bit in my kickboxing class. It's no big deal." He lied.
Kurt knew better. He could still read Blaine like a book. He desperately tried to keep his emotions in check as he saw Blaine's eyes shift and his hand rub the back of his neck. Kurt was devastated at Blaine's state. "Who, Blaine? Who did that to your beautiful face?"
Blaine winced at the word, beautiful. And he heard all the emotion in Kurt's voice; he didn't need to look up to see that Kurt's eyes would be filling with tears. "Don't worry about it, Kurt, I told you…"
"DON'T LIE TO ME, BLAINE!" Kurt bellowed in sheer grief, desperate to know who in their right mind would do this to such a sweet and gentle man like Blaine.
Blaine's heartbeat quickened and his breath caught in his throat. Don't lie to me, Blaine. Memories flooded his brain. Bad violent memories of Tyler screaming at him and he knew what would usually happen next; after yelling always came the blows. Blaine panicked. He took a tentative step back then ran up to his room and slammed the door. He crouched down against it and hugged his knees, placing his forehead onto them. He tried his hardest to contain his sobs but trying was futile – the emotion of seeing Kurt, first of all plus the shame he felt when Kurt studied his broken, cowardly face was just too much to bear.
"Blaine?" Kurt's voice was now more controlled coming from the other side of the door. "I'm sorry I yelled. I'm just really shocked that you're here and that you're so … beaten." He let out a breath. "Please can you open the door?"
Blaine remained silent except for his sobs.
"Blaine, I want to see you. I want to talk. We should talk," Kurt pleaded.
Blaine's voice was small and weak. "I don't want to talk, Kurt. I'm sorry I ruined your visit home. I'll be out of your house as soon as I book a flight back to Boston."
"No, Blaine. Stay. Please stay."
Blaine hugged his knees tighter as his entire body trembled – going back to Boston was not an option but there was no way he would stay here with Kurt. He had too much shame. "No," he said softly.
"Blaine, please. It's me. It's Kurt. You know that I would never hurt you or judge you. I just want to talk with you." Kurt's face was wet with tears. All he wanted was to wrap his arms around the broken man on the other side of the door. All he wanted was Blaine. All he needed was Blaine and by the looks of him, it was obvious that Blaine needed him too.
"Kurt, I'm going back. Please just leave me alone."
Kurt's eyes flickered in sorrow and frustration. "Fine. Go back to Boston. Be a stubborn child." He turned and raced down the stairs and slammed the front door.
Blaine jumped as he heard the front door slam. He let himself fall onto his side and lay on the floor. Everything was ruined. He was too much of a coward to talk to Kurt. He didn't deserve to get better. What he deserved was to go back to Tyler and let him punish him for running away and for thinking that he could find a better life without him. As if on cue, his phone buzzed with a text:
Sweetness, I miss you. I'm sorry I made you leave. I see that your suitcases are gone and it tears at my heart that I made you run. Please come back to me. I promise I will never lay a hand on you again. Let me make it up to you. Please, Blaine. I love you.
Kurt slammed open the door to Scandals. He bee-lined it to the empty bar and ordered a double whiskey while he tried to control his breathing. If he had been in the right frame of mind he would have realized that he was the only patron in there. It was daytime on a Monday after all but the roller-coaster of emotions going through him in that moment made him blind to everything around him. He was angry – angry that Blaine shut him out and wants to run away. He's also angry at himself for yelling at him but mostly he's angry at whoever did that to his beautiful face – and to his fragile vulnerable heart. It was clear that Blaine is broken emotionally more than physically. Kurt wants to kill whoever did that to his Blaine. He downed his whiskey in two gulps and ordered another. His mind flooded him with emotions – he was sad – so sad for the state of affairs that he and Blaine have found themselves in. They are apart and because of that they are both miserable. They are both killing themselves in their own respective ways. But mostly Kurt was feeling scared. He was scared for Blaine. If he went back to Boston he would fall into the same trouble that he was trying to escape from. He needed to help him. He needed to convince him to stay away from whoever he ran from. He needed to talk to him and they needed to work it all out because he was not going to let Blaine suffer any more. He himself didn't want to suffer anymore. But what if Blaine didn't want him? What if it was too late? What if this was the way their lives would be from now on? Kurt couldn't bear the guilt, the desperation, the anger, the fear, the sadness. He downed his second double whiskey and ordered a third.
Burt arrived home earlier than usual. The garage had been busy but he called a few more guys in to help him this week. He didn't want to leave Blaine alone all day. He walked in the house and was startled to see a familiar suitcase blocking the hallway. Oh no, Burt thought. "Kurt?"
Silence.
He moved further into the house. "Kurt, buddy? Are you home?"
Silence.
"Blaine?"
Silence.
Burt Hummel is a smart man. He knows that the boys are either lying in bed together or have both gone their separate ways. He climbed the stairs to check the bedrooms – not wanting to see anything that would be embarrassing, he closed his eyes and just used his voice, "boys? If you're naked put some clothes on because I'm coming up."
Silence.
"I'm serious. Kurt? Blaine?" He forced himself to look into Kurt's room. It was untouched – left exactly as he had left it eight months ago. Blaine's room was next … Burt hanged his head and sighed a deeply worried sigh as he realized what had transpired. Blaine's room was empty – Blaine was gone along with all his belongings. Please don't tell me he went back to Boston. Burt fished for his phone and dialed Blaine immediately. When voice mail picked up he left a message: "Blaine, buddy, listen to me. I need you to call me. Going back to Boston is not an option. Please let me help you. I know Kurt is back and I'm sure he wants to help you too. I'll come get you wherever you are, just call me back."
It had been six hours and Burt still had not heard from Blaine. He hadn't heard from Kurt either despite the three messages he left on his phone. He paced the living room as Carol fixed them tea. Even though it was ten at night she knew that Burt would not be going to sleep for a while – if at all. "Honey, do you want to sit down?"
"No."
"Pacing isn't going to bring them home."
"I can't just sit here Carol. They're both in trouble and they're both so stubborn."
"Do you want..." Carol's question was interrupted by a key in the door. Burt ran into the hallway to see a stumbling Kurt shut the door behind him then proceed to fall against the wall.
"What in the hell happened to you? And where have you been?" Any patience that Burt had forced himself to harbour made a swift exit when he saw the state his son was in.
"Scandals," Kurt said matter of factly. "It's nice to see you too Dad."
"Oh, don't come at me with that. I haven't seen or heard from you for eight months. The first time I do and you're falling over drunk? I'm so grateful that your mother isn't here to see this."
Kurt's eyes flared. His Dad had never used his mother against him. Never. "What did you just say?" He made to take a step but decided against it and instead placed his hand on the wall for balance.
Burt did take a step – a stop closer to Kurt. His eyes held his son's gaze darkly. "I said, I'm grateful…"
"I KNOW WHAT YOU SAID!" Kurt's eyes filled with tears as he screamed at his father, the man who had raised him on his own since the age of eight.
"Listen kid," Burt moved even closer to him. He also had tears in his eyes and his heart was ripping in two but this was something he had to say. "You do not ignore me for eight months, show up drunk, and then yell at me in MY home. Is that clear?"
"Oh, that's very clear," Kurt slurred. "Very fucking clear." He placed his hand on his suitcase and turned to walk out the door. "Coming here was a mistake. I'll be in New York."
Burt grabbed Kurt's wrist and before Kurt even knew what was happening Burt had him draped over his shoulder and was carrying him up the stairs. Burt ignored Kurt's shrieks and attempts to get free. He continued his lecture as only Burt Hummel could. "You think you are above your old man? You think you can waltz in and out of my life without giving a crap about how I'm feeling? You think you have the right to treat yourself the way you are? Think again, kiddo. You are now under my watch and I'm not letting you ruin your life because you're a stubborn jackass." He threw him down on the bed and kneeled down grabbing Kurt's wrists tightly but not hurting him. The tears that had collected in his eyes now flowed freely down his cheeks, matching the ones on his son's face. "It's always been you and me, Kurt. We have always made it work. We have always held each other up when the other was weak. This is no different. Please don't go. Please let me help you."
Kurt's eyes were wet and wide as they stared down at his Dad. His head was fuzzy but his heart understood exactly what his Dad was saying. And that is when Kurt Hummel broke down and started fighting his way up instead of down.
Carol had settled down from the intense scene she had just witnessed between her husband and step-son. She sipped her tea when she heard a knock at the door. She knew immediately who it was so she jumped up and opened it and was met with a trembling and hysterical Blaine. "I…I'm sorry." He stammered. "Please, can I come in?"
"Of course honey, come on." She grabbed his arm and led him and his suitcase into the hallway. He dropped it right beside Kurt's as Carol took him into the living room.
"Where's Burt?" he whispered. He wasn't sure he wanted to know because he knew he'd be angry at him.
"He's with Kurt. He's not doing so well honey."
"It's my fault. It's all my fault," he placed his face in his hands. "I made him angry. I made him leave."
"No. You listen to me." Carol soothed a hand over his back. "He is hurting right now and has been for a long time but you are also hurting. The four of us need to get on the same page, okay? Burt and I only want for you and Kurt to find yourselves again. If that means together great but if not that's ok too. We are here to support you and help you."
Blaine shook his head, "but I just can't face him, Carole. I'm ashamed. I'm supposed to be strong for him."
"Kurt would be the last person on earth who would ever judge you, Blaine. In your heart you know that. And you know what? Vulnerability is strength."
Blaine could only press into her hugging arms and let his tears spill down his cheeks. "I almost went back to Boston," he whispered. "I booked a flight and I was waiting at the gate but when they called us all to board I froze." He took a deep breath. "I couldn't go back to him, Carole. I can't. He'll kill me."
"That's why you're staying here with us, with your family."
"I love you guys, the three of you," Blaine squeezed his eyes shut thinking about all the good memories he has made with Kurt and his family. He desperately wanted that again.
"We love you too, honey. And things will work out." Carole wanted to promise but she never in her life had broken a promise so for the time being she decided to just leave it at that.