Author Notes: Thank you to each and everyone of my reviewers:). I also appreciated all of the favorites and story alerts. Here's the next part.
A/N: Fixed the formatting issue. I'm not sure why it didn't work the first time? Anyways, sorry if I caused anyone a headache. I also fixed the part (again!) that is supposed to be indented.
The sky was a light pink color by the time Blaine crept across the hall, slipping back into his room unnoticed. Nick waited for him on the bed. The brunette had stayed there all night, unable to see Blaine or sleep anywhere in his proximity due to Wes' barrier. Blaine winced as the mattress sank under his weight.
"I'm sorry." Nick apologized, remaining at the foot of the bed. "I didn't know."
"I know." Tugging on the bandage wrapped around his arm, Blaine stared at the clothes in his closet. "I guess I'll have to sleep without you from now on."
"Yeah." Nick tensed, sensing Wes' presence. "He's coming."
The brunette ghost shot off the bed, moving to stand near the open closet door. Wes entered the room, sending a hard glare at Nick. "Blaine, I think you should consider asking to go to your grandmother's house."
Blaine jumped, fingers gripping the rumpled comforter. "I haven't seen my grandmother since I was a baby. She hasn't spoken to my mother for years."
"I know." Wes twisted the gavel in his hands. "I know your mother has estranged herself from her family. I think you should consider it."
"Why?" Blaine could barely even remember his grandmother. "Why do you think I should go there?"
A troubled, thoughtful frown appeared on Wes' face. "It's not right here. Not for you."
"Wes." Blaine sighed, hating the ghost's sudden evasiveness. "What's wrong?"
The doorknob turned, announcing someone's arrival. Juan Lopez opened the door and peered into the room. "Good morning, Blaine."
The older man walked inside, shutting the door behind him and eyeing his house guest.
"Morning." Blaine felt uncomfortable and small under Juan's towering stature. "I was getting ready to change."
"Mm." Juan shuffled to the window and sat in the rocking chair located in the corner. "I wanted to speak to you about something."
The crisp tone set him on edge. "About what?"
Juan gently used his large, booted feet to move the rocking chair back and forth. "I'm sure this has been quite the change for you, but I wanted to, I suppose you could say, make you an offer."
"An offer?" Blaine stared at Santana's father, unsure what the man wanted. "What kind of offer?"
"Something like a business deal." Juan's was careful with his words, obviously not wanting to upset his guest. "I'm looking to expand my clientele. I have good customers here in the area, but it can be challenging to compete against other surgeons in Columbus or around the country. I want a more refined client base, one that will ensure my future, and my family's future."
He had no idea how to handle the odd, confusing confession. "I don't really know any of my dad's clients."
"I know that." Juan's eyed him for a tense moment. "I want to work on you, Blaine. In exchange, I'm willing to-you could say-help you return to a school like Dalton, or perhaps find a better solution to your situation."
The soft, authoritative announcement made him jump. "I don't need-or want-any plastic surgery."
Standing up, Juan approached the bed and towered over him. "Are you sure about that, Blaine? Your chin is a little too chiseled, your nose too slightly too big for your face. I could make you gorgeous, Blaine. I could make you perfect."
Shying away from the man's imposing frame, Blaine shook his head. "No."
"Suit yourself." Juan turned to leave, pausing at the doorway. "Just remember that you are staying in my house. I can make your life a living hell, fag."
The quiet, casual slur hit Blaine like a slap in the face. Juan Lopez hurried out the door and left him alone without further harassment. Wes hurled his gavel at the wall, furious. "Blaine, don't listen to a word he says."
"I won't." Blaine didn't need or want Juan's approval. "I'm not his kid. I'm not going to let him bully me into getting plastic surgery just so he can expand his clientele."
"Good." Jeff peered at him, a frown settling on his fair face. "Blaine, maybe you should leave like Wes said. You'd be safer at your grandmother's. I can't-I can't let you go through this-not like I did."
The blond ghost sat beside him on the bed, looking paler. Blaine stared at Jeff and waited, hoping he'd finally give him some details on his past. "Jeff, what are you talking about?"
Jeff shook his head, refusing to divulge his secrets. "I can't. I'm not ready yet."
Blaine watched with disappointment as the ghost faded before his eyes. "Wes, you want to clue me in here?"
"His secrets aren't for me to tell." Wes paced around the room, unusually anxious. "Jeff will talk when he's ready."
"Cristina's making breakfast." Trent poked his head through the wall. "She's making Huevos Rancheros."
"I'll head downstairs."
Blaine took his time picking out a suitable outfit for the day, determined to ignore Juan's threat. The man probably could make his life miserable in Lima. He didn't really feel all that intimidated by Mr. Lopez, certain the older man wouldn't risk his fathers' wrath. Granted, his dad might not care if Blaine hated it at the Lopez's house. Grayson definitely would care. His brother was often condescending and arrogant, but he had always looked out for him. The table was already empty when he finally made his way downstairs.
"Good morning!" Cristina's cold greeting left him with dread. "Did I not tell you that breakfast is served at six-fifteen?"
Slinking into a chair, Blaine nodded in defeat. "Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry I'm late."
Mrs. Lopez placed some vegetables into a tupperware container and pressed a label onto it. "I think you need to reconsider your priorities. Perhaps skipping breakfast will make you appreciate our hospitality, and entice you to be on time. I serve lunch precisely at noon. You have a therapy appointment at eight. Be sure to be on time!"
The older woman angrily dismissed him, clearly unhappy that he had disrespected her again. Blaine apologized and hurried back to his room. His stomach rumbled in protest, but he ignored the encroaching hunger. The laptop on the desk hummed to life after he pressed the power button. Browsing the local newspapers, it was easy to find information on West McKinley High School's winning football team. The Titans were favored to win the state championship, something that hadn't happened for years. He read through every article, fishing for information that could help him prepare for meeting Kurt Hummel.
A third, older article in the online news site revealed some crucial facts. Blaine focused his watering eyes on the paragraphs that stood out the most:
The Titans overcame insurmountable odds thanks to Coach Beiste's clever plays. Earlier in the season, Quarterback Finn Hudson suffered a serious ACL injury to his right knee and is unable to play for the rest of the season. Coach Beiste had already lost her hand picked Quarterback Sam Evans to a shoulder injury a few weeks prior. The Coach reassembled her team and selected seasoned Defensive Tackle David Karofsky to be her new Quarterback, and he's lead the team to victory. David has used his new position for more than just playing football.
McKinley High has always had a problem with bullying. School administrators and teachers alike have tried to come up with solutions to the problem. It turns out that what they needed was an ambassador. David Karofsky is just the person for the job. Suspended earlier in the year for several bullying incidents, David has seen the error of his ways thanks to his high school girlfriend, Quinn Fabray.
"Quinn had a hard time last year and ended up being bullied after she got pregnant. The whole school sort of turned on her. Quinn's worked really hard to earn her place as team captain for the Cheerios and is friends with lots of different types of people. She dated Sam Evans for a little while, but they split up after Sam turned out to be gay. He ended up quitting the football team because a lot of the guys were harassing him. Quinn's really the one who started to campaign for change.
She wanted to go out with me, but made me watch all of these videos about bullying first. I never knew how much it could affect people, you know? I never realized that I might really be hurting someone emotionally. So I started thinking about it. Quinn said we could do something about the bullying, and I really wanted to change. Be a better person. So we started the Bully Whips with the blessings of Coach Beiste, Coach Sylvester, and Principal Figgins."
David Karofsky and Quinn Fabray have really made a difference at McKinley High. The former bully of McKinley has made peace with his former victims, especially the students in the Glee Club. "I had to make things right with them, so I joined up after Finn got hurt. He couldn't go to Sectionals this year since he was in the hospital and scheduled for surgery. The Glee Club needed twelve members, so I joined. It took awhile, but eventually the kids started to trust me." David admits he has a softer side and actually loves singing with the other kids in show choir.
The rest of the article discussed David Karofsky's personal life and aspirations to play professional football after college. When Blaine finished reading, he scratched his head in utter confusion. Something wasn't right. Even though Elizabeth Hummel had terrified him into insomnia, she wouldn't show him her son's pain without reason. Blaine restlessly paged through more articles. He ended up cruising for any and all information about New Directions.
Eight O'Clock rolled around faster than he wanted, abruptly putting a stop to his research. Cristina hollered for him impatiently. "Blaine, we need to leave!"
"I'm coming!" Blaine shut the laptop, running down the stairs so he'd be on time.
"I can see we're going to have to work on your tardiness." Cristina grabbed her keys, guiding Blaine towards the door that lead to the garage. "This is your third offense in a day and a half! When we get back, you can expect to clean the house."
Sighing, Blaine tuned out her long lecture about respect and consideration. He found himself respecting Santana a great deal. She had parents that made his own seem like the Brady Bunch. They may not understand him and his father frequently tried to "Straighten him out", but they didn't criticize his looks, deny him meals, or try to push plastic surgery on him. Being punctual had never been an issue for him before. Dalton had a strict schedule for classes and after school activities, but the cafeteria had looser policies and remained open for longer stretches of times.
The therapist's office was located in a private home. Cristina parked the car in the paved driveway, climbing out into the chilly winter morning. Blaine reluctantly got out and followed her onto the sidewalk. A sign hung on the front gate, an arrow pointing to the side office. Patients Please Use Other Door. He knocked softly and walked into the office. A tall, lanky black man with graying hair greeted them.
"Good morning." He shook Cristina's hand first. "I'm Doctor Sean Keener."
Blaine returned the hand shake, nervously tugging on the hem of his shirt. "Good morning."
Several pictures lined the shelves. A lot of them featured a smiling brunette girl with big teeth and shining dark eyes. Blaine poked around the office, exploring as Dr. Keener talked to Cristina. Other pictures showed the therapist smiling and holding hands with a white man wearing glasses. He zoned in on the photographs, surprised to find that his doctor was gay.
"That's my partner." Dr. Keener suddenly appeared by his side, picking up another photograph of him, his partner, and the brunette girl. "Chris Berry. This is our daughter, Rachel. She's your age, and you'll be going to McKinley with her."
"You're gay." Blaine turned to face the older man, grateful that Cristina had already left. "Did my parents do this on purpose?"
Dr. Keener smiled warmly, motioning for Blaine to sit on the couch across from a leather chair. "Actually, your mother especially wanted you to see me. She felt that you may be more willing to talk to someone who's a gay professional."
Blaine couldn't help but laugh at his mother's attempt of understanding. "You don't even get it, do you? She only passed me off to you so she wouldn't have to deal with me!"
The black man didn't react to the outburst, choosing to pick up a pad of paper and a pen instead. "Is that what you think? She seemed very concerned about you when I spoke with her on the phone. Does she always make you angry?"
"Don't tell him squat." Trent strode into the office, sneering at Dr. Keener. "Did I tell you that I went through two years of therapy? My parents made me go through it after I tried to kill myself the first time. Don't talk to him, Blaine. He'll just twist your words around, make it look like you're crazy. You'll end up like I did, trapped in a mental ward like a dog."
Trent's persistent rant made Blaine reconsider saying anything more to Dr. Keener. "I'm not going to tell you how I feel. I don't even know you!"
"Well, we can get to know each other first if you like." Dr. Keener lifted up his pad of paper, holding up a familiar journal. "I find your diary quite interesting. Why don't you tell me about it?"
Blanching, Blaine shook his head. Damn. Someone had found it. The locked diary no longer had a lock on it. Traces of a small gold lock remained, though somebody had clearly broken the thing. "That's private."
Dr. Keener offered him an understanding smile. "Blaine, it's alright. I can understand your reluctance to share your thoughts with me. First, I want to make it to clear that whatever you say to me is strictly confidential. I also want to acknowledge the fact that your parents know nothing about your diary. Grayson is the one that brought it to me. He discovered it in your room at Dalton when he was packing up your things."
"My parents don't know?" Blaine looked at the older man hopefully, knowing the book made him look crazy. "Really?"
"No." The Doctor opened the diary's cover. "Grayson heard them mention my name and brought it to me. He was concerned that you may be suicidal, and knew your father would overreact should he discover this. Grayson felt I should handle the matter as I see fit."
Blaine withered under his stare, knowing the guy probably thought he had some weird obsession with death. "I'm not suicidal."
"I know you aren't." Dr. Keener flipped to the first page. "I'm going to tell you why I know for certain you aren't. I have in front of me a page detailing how you personally helped a man's family recover their family heirlooms after their grandfather died."
Angelo had made him dig up the grave, insisting Blaine needed to give them the key to his safe deposit box so he could move on. The former mobster had died in prison and was unable to retrieve a rare diamond from the safe deposit box. Blaine shivered at the memory of digging up that grave for hours in the rain, scared witless of the furious specter standing at the top of his own resting place.
"Yes, I found a note from their father buried in an old library book at Dalton." The lie came easily, the same one he'd told Angelo's family. "Then I found a key to his safe deposit box. All I did was return what was rightfully theirs."
"You didn't have to, Blaine." Dr. Keener offered him a sympathetic look. "You could have kept it for yourself. Tell me, how did helping Angelo's family make you feel?"
The two hour session was an endless string of questions. After a while Blaine realized that he shouldn't have said anything about any of the families he'd helped, because Dr. Keener really didn't think he was suicidal. He thought Blaine had some kind of strange hero complex. At least that's what he gathered the man believed from his questions. The appointment ended right around eleven. Cristina arrived to pick him up.
As they drove away from the chic office, Blaine turned to Mrs. Lopez. "Could you take me by McKinley? I'd like to see the school I'll be attending before Monday."
"I suppose so." She flipped the turn signal and took a hard right. "When we get home, your brother will be waiting for you. He wants to take you out. We'll discuss your chore list later."
Blaine pointedly turned towards the window, watching as the public high school came into sight. Students milled about the parking lot since the lunch period had just started. "Could we go inside?"
"I don't see why not." Cristina pulled into a designated visitor's space out front. "You should see where you'll be going to school. "I'll walk you into the main office. Perhaps we can get your schedule and have a tour."
Nodding, he leapt from the vehicle and hurried after her into the school. A secretary smiled up at them and told them to wait. Quietly announcing his sudden need to pee, Blaine excused himself and ducked into the empty hallway. Elizabeth Hummel stood next to a row of lockers smoking a cigarette.
"I see you're here." She snarled, stepping closer. "Come here, Blaine."
"No." Blaine turned, attempting to deter her efforts. "Wes!"
"I said come here!" Elizabeth stuck her left index finger out, making him stumble backwards. "You see? I've had my first taste, Blaine. Your friends can't stop me, not here. I've been here for years."
"Leave me alone!" The shouted protest went unheard. "What are you doing?"
Something tight and constricting wrapped itself around his waist, dragging him forward by force. Blaine struggled and fought the invisible tether. Wes appeared at the end of the hallway. "She's erected a barrier, Blaine. Just-do what she says. Go with her."
"I own this school." Elizabeth said, brushing her hand against his face. "Come along, now."
Blaine's breaths quickened as she dragged him down several long hallways. Each minute he was trapped by her, he felt his body grow weaker and more lethargic. The rope bound him to her. They arrived at an empty classroom. Elizabeth shoved him inside. "Stay there, Blaine. Watch and learn!"
The ghost went to a closed closet, waving her hand to reveal two boys pressed against each other. Blaine stood frozen to the spot. A familiar brunette teen shivered as a bigger boy trailed kisses down his neck.
"Kurt." He whispered to the deserted classroom. It looked more like a storage room, now that he though about it. "And Karofsky."
"Shh." Elizabeth forced his mouth close. "Be quiet and watch."
Karofsky's hands gripped Kurt's slender waist, trying to work their way under his shirt. Kurt's hands dug into the wall behind his back. Blaine could see his white knuckles and impassive face. He didn't look as if he were enjoying the make out session at all.
"Dave." Kurt forcefully pushed Karofsky's hands away from his way. "That's enough. My phone is buzzing. It's been ten minutes."
"God, already?" Karofsky licked Kurt's collarbone. "Fine, fine. You ready for our date tonight?"
Kurt looked as though he wanted throw up. "The only reason my father is even letting me out of the house tonight is because he thinks I'm going to Columbus with Mercedes' family. I'll meet you in the park, like we agreed."
"Yeah." Karofsky straightened his jacket and regarded Kurt for a moment. "Don't be late. See you later."
Blaine ducked behind the teacher's desk, hiding from the football player as he emerged from the closet. Karofsky excitedly whispered goodbye to Kurt and walked out of the room. A loud sob snapped Blaine's attention back to the closet, where Kurt had collapsed to the floor. Quiet cries resounded through the small space.
"You see, Blaine?" Elizabeth furiously paced the room, fire in her blue eyes. "You see what this boy is doing to my son?"
A single florescent light bulb shattered, scattering across the floor. Blaine backed into the desk. "Please leave me alone."
"Fix this!" Elizabeth crouched down, painfully yanking on his dark curls. "Stop this date from happening, you understand?"
"Is someone out there?" Kurt's voice cracked as he shuffled out of the closet. "Hello?"
Elizabeth's hand clamped down on Blaine's throat. "Don't say a word."
Kurt ran his fingers through his disheveled hair and wiped tears away from his eyes. The other boy caught his breath, cleaned his face up using a compact mirror, and silently stepped into the hallway. A false bravado dictated every step Kurt took. Elizabeth released his throat, sinking into the floor. "I never realized how exhausting this is!"
Coughing, Blaine scrambled away from the ghost. His heavy arms and sore legs had trouble obeying his wishes. "Wes!"
"I'm right here." Wes glared at Elizabeth. "You're weaker than you realize."
"Let's get you up." David and Trent reached for his arms, pulling him onto his feet. "Come on, shake it off."
Feeling slowly returned to his body, though he felt exhausted and found it difficult to keep his eyes open. Blaine gingerly walked out of the classroom. Delicate hands seized him by his jacket as soon as he reached the hall.
"What did you see?" Kurt Hummel's cold stare startled him. "Tell me, what did you see?"
Spluttering, Blaine opted for honesty. "I saw enough. You're dating David Karofsky, Quarterback of McKinley High."
"We're not dating." Kurt hissed, frantically clutching at Blaine's jacket. "And you can't tell anyone what you saw, please."
"So you're not dating Karofsky." Blaine frowned. "But you want me to keep your non-relationship secret?"
Kurt's eyes started to water, tears threatening to fall. "Please. You can't tell. Please don't tell anyone."
"Hey." Blaine reached for Kurt's hand, gently removing it from his jacket and squeezing softly. "It's alright. I'm not going to tell anyone. My name's Blaine."
"Kurt." The blue eyed boy looked utterly relieved at the news. "Kurt Hummel."
Kurt's hand felt incredibly soft and warm under Blaine's fingertips. "Want to tell me what that was in there? I don't know many guys that are as upset as you are after a make out session with a boyfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend." Kurt repeated, swaying a little on his feet. "We're not dating. It's just a-a side fling."
Blaine heard the desperation in his voice, though he didn't know if Kurt was trying to convince himself or Blaine that he was still currently single. "Want to tell me about it?"
Kurt hesitated. "I don't even know you."
Suddenly, he felt like he was channeling Dr. Keener. "Well. I'm new here at McKinley. I start Monday. I'll be at the game tonight. Why don't I give you my number? That way, if you do feel like talking, you can call me. Anytime."
Haphazardly pulling out his cellphone from a pocket, Blaine gave Kurt a reassuring smile. "Why don't you tell me what your number is?"
Kurt studied him, obviously surprised by the offer. "Okay. Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure." Blaine kept a firm grip on his hand, loving the way the other boy reacted to his touch. No one had smiled like that at him since Nick had died. "Anything."
"Are you gay?" Kurt looked so hopeful, he couldn't possibly lie to protect himself.
"Yes." Blaine would have at least one ally at McKinley. "I am."
"Oh." Kurt's eyes lit up, happy he was no longer the only openly out gay student in high school. "That's-that's wonderful news!"
Jeff bolted down the hallway, loud footsteps following him. "They're looking for you!"
Kurt's head jerked at the ghost's voice. "Did you hear something?"
Frowning, Blaine dropped the teen's hand. "No. Nothing!"
"Blaine Anderson!" Cristina was out of breath and obviously distressed he'd vanished on her. "Where have you been?"
"I got lost." He quickly covered, silently pleading with Kurt to lie. "Fortunately, I found someone who was willing to help me out."
"Mr. Hummel." An aging Indian man in a cheap suit addressed Kurt. "Thank you for helping our newest student. In fact, I think this a perfect opportunity to talk to you about helping Mr. Anderson out when he arrives Monday. Would you please come to my office?"
"Okay." Kurt smiled, clearly pleased. "It's good to see you again, Mrs. Lopez."
"And you as well, Kurt." Cristina glared at Blaine. "I have your schedule and locker number. We must be on our way, Blaine. Your brother is waiting."
Feeling extremely confident, he winked at Kurt and strode after his appointed guardian. Maybe McKinley High wouldn't be so bad after all. Blaine's grin remained on his face until he spotted a familiar figure lurking near the entrance of the school. Dave Karofsky sneered at him from a dark corner. Cristina began to complain about his lack of respect once again.
"Oh my word!" Mrs. Lopez stared at the door of her vehicle, shocked by the nasty word scratched into the shiny red paint.
Three white letters taunted Blaine as he stood under the cold winter sun. F-A-G. Tears spilled from his eyes, reminding him that he would be in danger once more as soon as he set foot inside West McKinley High School.