Author's Note:

The First Time was amazing. My thoughts and emotions are so all over the place, I will write about it more in my Season 3 Fic Way Out. Which you should read if you're not.

WARNING: The first scene of this story contains mild and allusions to not so mild physical abuse. Please be careful if it will trigger you. The events are briefly touched on in Hold On, so if you have read that you won't miss much.

I really want to thank those of you who encouraged me to write this scene, especially Jen. I think it's really important that I did. I would give anything to see Darren perform it. The episode title, Night of Neglect, has a double meaning for me now.

Of course I want to thank my beta, Potikanda, and you should go read her fic Save Me From This Mess I'm In. I adore that story, and if you like my work you will like that story.

I don't own Glee, but you know which words they own.

A love not fought for, is a love not worth fighting for.

Running Away, Night of Neglect

Blaine had to pull over twice on the side of the road to stop his panic from taking over on his way home. The last few days, with Kurt always at his side, were both magic and torture. He adored the boy, and the thought of losing him, or of Kurt losing Blaine, broke his heart into a million pieces. And he knew that if his father had found out about them because of their Regionals performance , it was precisely what would happen. He finally pulled into the driveway and got out of the car. Blaine inhaled deeply as he placed his hand on the doorknob. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer to a God he knew would not answer, and walked inside, shutting the door carefully behind him.

Colonel Anderson was neither a big man nor strong, but there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he was a man to be listened to and obeyed. It had been drilled into Blaine's head since he was a little boy, his only reprieve the years his father was gone in Iraq. Even then, the invention of computers, cellphones, and video conferencing was a curse for the boy who didn't behave the way his father wanted him to. Blaine found him sitting on the living room sofa reading some sort of manual. He stood by the doorway, waiting to be acknowledged.

Finally his father closed the book. "Have a seat Blaine," he ordered.

"I'd rather stand," Blaine said defiantly, moving to lean against a hutch on the wall across the room from his father. His defiance often got him into more trouble, but it was the only measure of control he ever had with his father and he clung to it dearly. "Where's Mom?"

"She went out." Blaine knew that this did not bode well at all. His mother left when she knew it was going to get bad between them. It broke Blaine's heart, but he also understood she needed to protect herself as well. He had long ago realized that he was on his own. He gripped the table edge tightly with both hands, trying desperately to contain his fear. He concentrated on breathing as his father rose.

"I have certain expectations in this house, you know that. And I do not take kindly to you not following them." The Colonel's stare penetrated Blaine's steely façade and he shivered. He began to grow dizzy, but remained silent. He could almost see Kurt being ripped from his grasp but tried to blink away the image. He still was not certain what this was about, and he refused to take any chances at revealing something his father didn't already know.

His silence only made his father's anger grow, however. "An explanation Blaine," he demanded. "Now."

Blaine tried to swallow the heartbeat that had climbed to his throat. He willed his voice to be steady, but it came out more like a squeak. "For what, Sir."

The Colonel's gaze fell to a manila envelope on the coffee table. Blaine noticed it for the first time, seeing the Dalton seal in the corner. His face creased in confusion. Blaine stepped forward tentatively and grabbed it, opening it slowly. He pulled out a report card, and breathed a sigh of relief. He nearly broke out laughing, then realized he must be delirious.

"You think this is funny Blaine?" The Colonel's booming anger brought Blaine back to reality. Dalton and Kurt were safe, but he was not.

"No Sir, not all," he said and studied the report card. Blaine frowned. Two C's amongst the A's and one B. A suitable report card for most families, but not in the Anderson household. He wasn't happy with it himself. Blaine looked up at a face raging, and panic returned. "I'm sorry, Sir."

Blaine stepped back as the Colonel moved toward him until he was inches from the hutch. "Sorry is not going to cut it, young man. I do not pay tens of thousands of dollars a year for grades like these." His tone shifted, mixing condescension with taunting. "Tell me Blaine, is the work too hard for you or are you just too busy with your ridiculous singing and dancing all the time to bother with your classes?"

Blaine couldn't respond. He knew what his father was really asking: Was he too stupid or too gay? And the fact was, there was no good answer. He would never blame his grades on the Warblers, even if it were true, which it wasn't. On the other hand, saying he couldn't handle the work was a lie he would never tell. There was no way he would give his father another reason to think less of him. Kurt was the true reason his grades had slipped. He always tried to concentrate in class and complete his homework after Warbler practice, but his mind had been a mess the past few months, wanting so badly what he spent hours convincing himself he couldn't have. But that was another answer he could never give.

And suddenly he was reminded precisely why. His father never took to silence well, when he wanted answers he got them. As Blaine got lost in his own world, searching desperately in his mind for some excuse he could divulge, his father snapped him out of it with a shove that slammed him forcefully into the hutch. Blaine felt a shooting pain in his back as the air was swept from his lungs. Tears came to his eyes.

"You're out of the Warblers," Colonel Anderson yelled. " I will not have you hanging around those boys, doing whatever it is you do, instead of concentrating on your studies."

"No!" Life without the Warblers would be like living without air. Music and his friends were the only thing that kept him afloat. And Kurt. No, he couldn't think about Kurt right now. "Please, Dad," he begged, "competition season is done. It will take less of my time. I promise I will keep up in school. Straight A's next semester."

Blaine struggled to breathe as his father got directly in his face and hissed. "You have wasted my money this year and spit on my generosity in letting you attend that school. If you think that I am going to just let you waltz back with no consequences for your actions and nary a reminder that your academics are more important than anything else, you've got another thing coming."

Blaine looked at the floor. No matter how hard he tried, somehow his father always won. "I'll take whatever I have coming, Sir," he nearly whispered. With every ounce of strength he raised his eyes to meet his father's, pleading. "Just please, let me stay with the Warblers."

His father stared him down for what felt like an eternity. Finally, he took a step back, making space between him and his son. "Here's the deal. You can walk out that door now and I will call the headmaster to inform him that you resign from your choir. Or you can head up those stairs and wait for me in your room. The choice is yours."

Blaine's skin bristled and his heart pounded, but he did not hesitate. He stepped out from under his father's glare and, like a prisoner facing execution, slowly climbed the stairs.

Blaine lay on his bed at Dalton, chin is his hands, trying desperately, but failing, to focus on his history book that lay open beneath him. It had been 4 days since he'd returned, but his mind kept straying to his weekend home. The soreness had virtually disappeared, but the pain in his heart remained. So many thoughts and feelings were at war within him as his mind shifted from his father to Kurt and back again.

It wasn't the first time since he'd been at Dalton that he'd come back this way, but it was the first time since Kurt had transferred. None of the boys ever seemed to notice, his circumstances had turned him into a damn fine actor. This time he told everyone he had a football injury from playing with his Dad over the weekend. Most of the guys bought the story; even Kurt didn't really question him. But one person did notice - Nick. He'd seen it before and he was good at picking up patterns. Blaine had always known he wouldn't be able to hide it from his best friend forever.

Nick asked him to stay after following rehearsal and Kurt went off to dinner with the other boys, a fact for which Blaine was grateful. Blaine had no intention of telling Nick anything, but Nick had a way about him that made a person feel safe, loved and accepted. He ended up admitting only that yes, his father had hurt him. He swore Nick to secrecy, which he very reluctantly agreed to. Lying on his bed now, hehad quite mixed feelings about telling Nick. On the one hand, he was so very grateful that someone knew and understood. On the other hand, he felt guilty that he told Nick and not Kurt. But Kurt could never know. Blaine knew that Kurt would immediately tell his father, and Mr. Hummel would either storm over to his house or call child protective services. Either action had only one result: Losing Dalton and losing Kurt.

A knock on the door Blaine recognized immediately as Kurt's, broke his reverie. "Come in," he called.

Kurt came in and went straight to sit on the corner of Blaine's bed. "Hi," he said happily.

Blaine rolled over and sat up, placing one hand on Kurt's knee and giving him a peck on the cheek. "Hi beautiful," he smiled.

Kurt blushed. "I never thought that Wes and David would let me out of rehearsal. You are lucky you weren't there, they were on a rampage. They made me do Blackbird about ten times. Never knew they were so serious about their nursing home shows."

Blaine chuckled to himself. Nick had asked them to keep Kurt busy, knowing that Blaine needed time on his own. "You know Wes," he said. "He's a perfectionist. Of course, maybe he just wanted to hear you sing Blackbird over and over. I know I do."

Kurt grinned. "So, you seem to be feeling better." Blaine had told Kurt he had a headache the past few days. It was true, in a way. He tried never to lie to his boyfriend, but he had grown over the years to be a master of half-truths.

"Yes," Blaine answered. "I am feeling better."

"Good!" Kurt beamed. "Because I have a date for us."

"Oh?"

Kurt bounced a little on the bed with excitement. That boy is too adorable for words, thought Blaine. "New Directions is doing a little fundraiser concert, and I got about 10 separate texts saying that we better be there. They say they are going to have a big audience, but chances are we could be the only ones there."

"Then we better go. Wouldn't want your friends to come after you here for not showing up," Blaine answered. Blaine was so grateful that Kurt had his friends at McKinley. He knew that if the worst ever happened, they would always be there for him, even while Blaine was left alone. His frowned at the thought.

"Hey, look at me," Kurt said suddenly. Blaine looked up and met Kurt's gaze. "Your eyes look so sad. They have for days. What's going on?" Kurt placed a hand in Blaine's curls, gently stroking them.

Blaine shook his head. "It's nothing, I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

"Of course I worry about you," Kurt said. "You can tell me anything you know that, right?"

It broke Blaine's heart a little bit, but he couldn't say anything. He wouldn't say anything. Kurt could not know. Some secrets were meant to be kept.

"Let's go to dinner," Blaine said, grabbing Kurt's hand and pulling him off the bed.

"You're changing the subject," Kurt said wryly.

"I'm hungry." Blaine tried to be cheerful.

"You're changing the subject!" Kurt said more emphatically.

"Let's find Nick and Jeff!" Blaine yelled opening the door and pulling him into the hallway.

Kurt just shook his head. "What am I going to do with you Blaine Warbler?" he wondered aloud as Blaine raced them down the corridor to find his friends.

Blaine strolled the hallways of McKinley High School as Kurt showed him all the sights of his old school. Blaine walked, hands in his pockets, smiling at Kurt. They always held hands at Dalton, but without speaking of it, neither felt fully comfortable doing it in these hallways. Blaine had promised himself that he would put everything behind him tonight and just have a wonderful night with his boyfriend. Kurt looked so happy here, but at the same time sad. Blaine could easily tell that for Kurt, this was home, not Dalton, and he missed it terribly.

Brittany and Artie came by smiling, encouraging them to get a good seat in the auditorium. "Gonna be a full house?" Blaine asked with a smile.

"Got to get there early to get a good seat," Artie replied.

"We'll be there in a minute," Kurt assured them.

Blaine turned to Kurt and studied him as he stared after his friends. "Aww…you miss them," he said lovingly.

The moment was ruined by a voice behind them. "What the hell are you two doing here." They both turned to see Karofsky approach them. Blaine immediately felt his defenses shoot up. He had been too close to fight or flight all week. He hated Karofsky. He had tried to be understanding, months ago before he knew what the football player had done to Kurt. But Karofsky reminded Blaine way too much of his father, especially today. The only difference was that the boy had no power over him and he was free to give back everything the kid gave them. Adrenaline raced through his system.

"We're here for the benefit," Kurt said. "Don't tell me you're going."

"I wouldn't be caught dead," the bully snarled at them. "I was pumping iron at the gym when one of the guys told me you two were here spreading your fairy dust all over the place."

"Would you just give it up!" Blaine fought desperately to keep himself together for Kurt's sake, but every muscle in his body tensed and every reflex wanted to lash out. "You can live whatever lie you want, but don't pretend that the three of us don't know what's really going on here."

"You don't know squat, buckboy!" David yelled.

Blaine lost it. He was smaller, but he was strong, and he was done being called names and taking abuse. Every ounce of hate and anger and humiliation that he had suffered over the years, from both the bullies at school and the bully at home rushed through him and he couldn't stop himself if he tried. He charged Karofsky and shoved him, making an impact despite his size. David immediately responded, pushing back. Blaine's vision narrowed and the blood rushed through his ears.

Blaine felt Santana jump in and push him away, stopping him from punching Karofsky. He vaguely heard Kurt and the other two talking, but couldn't make out the words. Slowly, his vision and hearing returned to normal.

"First of all, anything you do became my business, when you decided to toss that slushie up in my grill," the black-haired girl said.

David eyed her back. "Think I can take a couple of queers and a girl."

Blaine's blood began to boil again, but Santana acted more quickly. "Heh, okay, see here's what's gonna go down, two choices: You stay here and I crack one of your nuts, right or left that's your choice, or you walk way and live to be a douchebag another day. Oh and also I have razor blades hidden in my hair, tons, all up in there."

The speech allowed Blaine a moment to catch his breath and return his thinking. He quickly glanced over to Kurt, who looked frightened. He wasn't sure who he was more scared of, Karofsky or Blaine. The football player walked away, and Santana turned back to them, meeting Blaine's eyes.

"We could have handled that," he told her, although he realized it was probably a very good thing that she had ended it when and how she did.

"It was more fun doing it together," she said, smiling at Blaine. He gave her a small smile back when she got a text and ran off in the direction of the choir room. Blaine's thoughts quickly returned to his hands, which were still clumped into fists.

Kurt turned anxiously to Blaine. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," Blaine said quickly, brushing him off. "Are you alright?" he asked trying to clear his mind.

Kurt stepped toward Blaine. "Yes," he said placing his hands on Blaine's forearms. "You're shaking!" he exclaimed with concern.

Blaine stepped back, causing Kurt's arms to fall and he looked around. The last thing they needed to do was instigate any more violence by them touching. "Come on, let's get our seats," Blaine said quietly turning to go, avoiding Kurt's hurt look, and nearly running off to the auditorium. Kurt caught up to him in their seats, but Blaine avoided his gaze. With the embarrassment at his behavior, coupled with the rage he felt and the secrets he kept, he knew that if he looked at Kurt's beautifully innocent face he would lose it.

Blaine was grateful when Tina took the stage. Music always calmed his nerves and the racing thoughts, and he did his best to let himself relax. But the audience made it impossible. Kurt was right, no one showed up and those that did just heckled the poor girl, who was trying her best to work it up on the stage. Blaine had been told about how New Directions was treated at school, but seeing it first hand made his heart ache for Kurt. He turned to his boyfriend, and discreetly took his hand, as Mike took the stage. Staring at the beauty on the stage, he found himself finally relaxing. His dancing amazed Blaine, to the point that he was mesmerized. The guy was incredible.

Blaine leaned over to Kurt. "Think we can get him to transfer to Dalton?" he whispered wagging his eyebrows.

Kurt turned to him and smiled. "You are terrible," he kidded.

The two gave Mike a standing ovation.

When Mercedes sang, he nearly melted. He had never heard her sing before, but her voice was incredible and he lost himself entirely in the song.

Ain't no way for me to love you,
if you won't let me.
It ain't no way for me to give you all you need,
if you won't let me give all of me.

Although he didn't sing it, Mercedes voice drove into his heart and carried his feelings on the wind, to God, to his father, to anyone who would listen. Every bad feeling, every doubt, and all his anger disappeared. Once again, music said everything he needed to say. And a huge smile returned to his face. Tears were in his eyes when she finished, and he joined Kurt and his friends in a standing ovation. The power of music amazed him every time. He would do anything, take whatever he had to, not to lose that. He had always known, but he knew with complete certainty in that moment, that he had made the right decision.

A/N: This chapter was scary for me to write, so I would adore any reviews or PMs or tweets on your thoughts. Now I must concentrate on Way Out Chapter 8. Love you all.