Warnings: Mentions of physical/emotional abuse
Summary: Blaine put up with his abusive father until he threatened to hurt Kurt. That's where he draws the line.
"Do you think my dad built a car with me because he loves cars? I think he did it because he thought getting my hands dirty might make me straight." Blaine
.***.
Except for one character flaw, Kevin Anderson was a stand-up guy. A good job, softball on the weekends, coach of a peewee football team in the fall, he was a model citizen who paid his taxes and voted Republican and kept his lawn green and clean. When his wife took off, leaving Kevin with two sons, one very young, everyone remarked on how well he handled the situation. He chaperoned Cooper's prom and watched him graduate Dalton, his eyes wet with tears of absolute pride.
Except for one character flaw, Kevin Anderson was the perfect dad. Unfortunately for his younger son, that character flaw was an irrational loathing of people who fell in love with someone of their own gender. When he saw these people on television, he'd declare loudly to the room, which usually had 18-year-old Cooper making dinner and 8-year-old Blaine reading, that he thought you should still be able to throw fags in jail.
Cooper didn't say anything, just passed his father another beer and ruffled Blaine's hair. He'd be out of this house in two months, and he wouldn't look back.
By the time Blaine was thirteen, Kevin Anderson's one character flaw had taken on sub-flaws: when he got angry about the prevalence of homosexuality in America, he'd drink far too much. When Blaine wasn't as willing as Cooper had been to join the football team and work on cars and chase girls, his father would give him a smack here, a whack there.
When Blaine went to his father with Andy, a quiet, pale boy who liked writing in a soft leather-bound book he carried with him, and told him that they were going to go to prom together, Andy had bodily thrown Blaine out of the house and shook Blaine so hard he dislocated a shoulder. Later, Kevin apologized, except it wasn't much of an apology:
"You just scare me, boy. When are you going to grow out of this phase and stop acting like a goddamned freak. Why can't I have a normal son?"
Prom had been the culmination of everything Blaine feared about himself. When he and Andy were thrown to the ground and kicked, punched, beaten, at first Andy had reached out a hand, trying to find Blaine's, but Blaine turned away, turned inward. He was a freak. His father was right. So many people who hated him for loving boys couldn't be wrong. There had to be something evil and twisted inside of him.
Dalton had helped to change some of that thinking. When David found him singing in the courtyard while he did his Algebra, he asked him if he would like to join the Warblers. "Singing is for pussies." Blaine said, a reflex, even though there was really nothing he'd rather do. Singing made him feel better. He had very vague memories of his mother singing to him.
"Well then, I guess I'm a pussy." David said, shrugging. "If you change your mind, you're welcome any time."
That first semester, Blaine joined the Warblers. Two of the other boys, sophomores named Eric and Carlos, had gotten together. Seeing their happiness made Blaine feel less ugly inside. He started wearing bowties and slicking his hair back. He started singing loudly. He started taking over the group. His father would hit him when he got drunk, but he'd apologize later and give him twenty bucks, as if that could make up for anything. Blaine just sang louder, made a group of friends, started boxing because he thought if he could channel the ugliness into something maybe it would go away. Hitting stuff always seemed to help his father's anger.
Kurt changed everything. He was a thousand times braver than Blaine and yet he hung on to his every word as if he didn't know that Blaine was a freak. When he told his father that he wanted to change schools to stay with Kurt, his father had hit him with his belt, something he'd never done before. The next night Blaine ate dinner at Kurt's house and told him he was transferring to Dalton.
"You hang onto that one, Kurt. He's a keeper." Burt Hummel said, spooning more mashed potatoes onto Blaine's plate and slapping the boy on the back. Blaine sucked in a breath, tried not to look like he was in pain. He would do anything to have Burt Hummel as his father.
When Cooper came back to visit, he'd gone for a walk with Blaine. "I'm sorry I haven't been around much, kiddo. I know dad's a lot to handle."
"I don't blame you for wanting to stay away." Blaine said, shrugging. It was warm, and the fabric of his shirt clung to the new scars his father had given him.
"From dad, not from you." Cooper mussed his hair, "You're such a good kid. I'm sorry dad can't see that." They walked another few feet, Blaine scuffing his shoes on the sidewalk like he used to do when he would follow Cooper to football practice. Anything to be with his big brother. "Kurt seems nice. What does dad think of him?"
"Dad's never meeting Kurt." Blaine spat, his voice shaking at the thought. It was in some of his nightmares, his father taking his irrational fear out on his boyfriend and forcing Blaine to watch.
Cooper stopped suddenly and slipped his hand under Blaine's shirt, feeling his way up his back until he touched one of the still-healing marks. "Goddamnit, kid. Why didn't you tell me it had gotten this bad?"
"You left me alone with our homophobic father. I'm gay. It's not that hard to guess what happens next, Cooper. But you never did like facing the facts." Blaine shook off Cooper's hand, even though his touch had been cool and soothing.
"Have you told anyone?" Cooper asked, but didn't wait for an answer, "Of course you didn't." He ran a hand through his hair, looking around at the quiet street as if it would give him the answers. "Maybe I shouldn't go. Maybe I'll stay here, get an apartment. You can live with me."
"You don't want to do that, Coop. It's fine. I'm fine. It's only one more year." But his stomach was already in knots thinking about next year. Without Kurt, with his father, it would be hell.
It was at that instant that Blaine decided to leave and never look back. He meant to do it when Kurt took off for NYADA. He'd just hitch a ride and they'd be together in New York. He'd get a job somewhere or not. That part didn't really matter. What would matter was that he would be with his boyfriend and would pass out with painkillers in his hand anymore.
That night, Cooper confronted their father about the way he'd been treating Blaine and threatened to call the police. Kevin Anderson had begged off, saying he was sorry and he wouldn't do it again, he'd seen the error of his ways, Blaine was a nice boy. Cooper had seemed willing to accept this, told Blaine to call him if anything else happened, and left the house that night.
When the car had turned into the next block, Blaine's father turned to him, eyes narrowed. "You trying to turn my only normal son against me, boy?"
"Cooper figured everything out himself." Blaine said, thinking about the punching bag he liked to hit at school and wondering if he could do that to his father.
"I've been trying for years to make you normal. I thought I did it, too, then that Kurt came along." Kevin spat the name, "Maybe I should introduce him to our little lessons. The more the merrier."
"You're not going to touch Kurt." Blaine said, raising his fists. "I'm not going to let you. And I'm leaving." He didn't know where the last part came from, but as soon as he said it he knew it was the right thing to say. Yes, he was leaving. His life would be a dream except for this part of it - he had an amazing boyfriend and great friends and a passion for singing. And he was good at it, even if it was a faggy profession like his father said it was. So he was getting out. He was taking his life back.
Kevin Anderson wasn't a bad guy, but something about his younger son's defiance brought out the worst in him. Why couldn't he just like girls? Why couldn't he just play sports? Why couldn't he just be like all of his friend's sons? Paul Winchester was always talking about his boys who played lacross and ran track and dated cheerleaders and went hunting with him every year. Blaine had thrown a fit when Kevin even talked about hunting.
He couldn't let Blaine go. That would be like saying he'd given up, and he wasn't giving up on his son having a normal life. Didn't he know how cruel people could be? Didn't he know that he could never be like everyone else? So if Blaine tried to walk out the door, he would give him one last lesson. One he wouldn't forget.
.***.
Will Schuester was having a pretty great day. On his way back froom his father's house he'd picked up some flowers for Emma, who would no doubt be asleep when he got back but would appreciate them at the table in the morning. Emma used to hate flowers, but Will would bring her a single white rose every day. White and clean and pure. And eventually it was two drooping lilies, then three daffodils, four daisies, five lilacs, until he worked up to a bouquet on Valentine's day. Emma had put her face in the middle of the bunch and breathed in the smell of them.
He was thinking about the look on Emma's face when she woke up to the arrangement when a shape stumbled into the street. Will slammed ont he breaks and stopped just in time to keep from hitting the figure. "Oh God!" He yelled, fumbling his way out of the car. "Are you okay? Did I hit you?" He reached for the form on the ground and was surprised when a voice said, low and pleading, please, don't...please...
"Blaine?" Now Will was quick, pulling Blaine onto his lap. It was the Junior, half-dressed, bleeding. He screamed when Will moved him and the teacher could only murmur soft meaningless words. "It's okay, it's Mr. Schuester...it's okay...shh...shh, you'll be okay." He cradled Blaine's torso in his lap, wishing for more light. "I'm going to take you to the hospital, okay? Blaine?"
"Please don't..." Blaine said, and for a moment it was months ago and it was Puck Will was holding and Puck begging him not to take him to the hospital. Puck had ended up at his house twice, both times bruised and the battered. The second time he'd said something about Blaine...
And Will was such a pushover that he caved into the whims of a hurt teenager. "Okay, no hospital. I'm just going to take you to my house, okay?"
"Kurt..." Blaine said, opening the eye that wasn't swollen shut. "He's going to hurt Kurt..."
Well, the Hummel's house was closer. "Okay, we'll go to Kurt's instead. You're going to be okay. I have to get you into my car. It's going to hurt." Blaine nodded bravely and bit his tongue like he'd bitten it through the beating, because whining would make his father hit harder.
Will left Blaine in the car to knock on the door of the Hummel-Hudson house. It was Finn who answered the door, wearing only sweatpants, his feet bare. "Mr. Schue? What's going on?"
"I need your help. We need to get Blaine inside. Is Kurt here?"
"What? Yeah, he went up to bed an hour ago." It was nearinig midnight, and Finn had been in the living room getting a late-night snack while texting Rachel.
"Help me get Blaine inside first." Will said, leading the way to his car. Finn followed, and though he'd seen Puck after Harold got a hold of him, it didn't really prepare him for the sight of Blaine Anderson looking like hamburger meat.
"Oh my God," Finn said, gently unbuckling the seat belt and pulling Blaine against his chest. He slid an arm underneath, around, and lifted him up like he would lift the boys on the football team when Coach Beaste made them run bleachers carrying a buddy. "What happened?"
"I think it was his father." Will said, putting his arms out uncertaily, ready to catch Blaine if Finn should falter, but the tall boy never did, just hugged Blaine to his chest and took small steps towards the front the door. Will ran ahead and opened it so Finn could go through. He deposited Blaine on the couch as gently as he could, but the younger boy still moaned a little, trying to curl in on himself. In the lights of the living room he looked worse.
When Finn straightened up he had smears of Blaine's blood on him. "I'll go get Kurt," he said, "and Burt. He'll know what to do." Will nodded, grateful at the prospect of having another adult in on this mess.
Kurt, who was woken up by his brother covered in blood, flew upstairs and knelt next to Blaine. "Oh God, is he okay? Shouldn't he be at a hospital?"
"It looks worse than it is, babe." Blaine's voice was weak but his grip when he reached for Kurt's hand was strong. "And I asked Mr. Schue to take me here. I wanted to make sure you were all right."
"I'm fine." Kurt said, blinking away tears angrily. He didn't know why he was crying, except that he was scared. He'd never seen so much blood. "What happened? Who did this to you?" He was thinking of jocks and gay bashers. He remembered the time of night and wondered if Blaine had gone to a bar.
"Let him breathe, Kurt." Schue said. He had a wet washcloth and started wiping the cuts. "You're going to have to turn over, Blaine. The worst of it's on your back."
"What the hell's going on here?" Burt asked when he got into the room. Kurt breathed a sigh of relief and ran over to his father. His whole life, hid dad had made everything better. Maybe he could work his miracles on Blaine. "Schuester? Why did I get woken up by one of my boys covered in blood?"
Will explained as best he could, the words tripping on the way out. He continued to clean Blaine's injuries, and Finn knelt by his side with bandages, trying to pretend this was just another sports injury.
In the end, Burt sat in a seat and leaned down so he and Blaine were eye-to-eye. "You dad been doing this to you, son?"
Blaine didn't know what else to do. How could he deny anything now? He nodded.
"And you didn't tell anyone? Not your teacher, not your boyfriend? You decided this was your burden to carry alone?" Burt put his head in his hand, rubbing his temple for a quick fix. "Let me guess. He's not exactly thrilled you bat for my son's team?"
"Not exactly." Blaine said, looking down.
"Right." Burt stood, "Well, obviously you're not going back there. I happen to know a couple of cops who wouldn't mind paying a late-night call."
Blaine squaked in disbelief, sitting up despite his injuries. "What? No, you can't arrest him! He's my dad."
"I'm sorry kid. This is not your call. You're a minor. He's your guardian. No one deserves to be treated like that in their own house, and I'm don't want to wake up again in the middle of the night to find a kid bleeding to death on my couch."
"But - where will I go?" He had nothing, nothing. He'd never had a job, not even a summer one. He had no money, and now no father.
Burt looked so sad at that sentance. "You'll stay here as long as you need. I got a feeling your father did a number on you, kid, and I'm not talking about those belt marks on your back. Well, Kurt can tell you that I'm a good listener. I don't know much about psychology or what have you, but I know a little about teenage boys. I've even specialized in the gay ones." He tipped his son a wink and Blaine felt like he was going to cry at the level of kindness being shown to him.
"I...I don't know what to say."
Burt stood up, took one of the washcloths and used it to gently wipe the blood from Blaine's chest. "Say you'll go to the hospital. Say you'll press charges against your father. There's so many people in the world who care about you, kid. No use in wasting time with someone who doesn't."
"I didn't mean for any of this to happen," Blaine said miserably. "He just...he said he would hurt Kurt. I didn't know what to do. I hit him."
Burt's face darkened and Kurt's paled. He kissed his boyfriend gently, kissed him on his cheeks, and tasted the salt of his tears. "My knight in shining armor."
"I love you," Blaine said desperately. Kurt had to know this, had to understand. Blaine was falling into the deep welcoming pit of unconsciousness but Kurt had to understand this much.
"I love you too. So much." And Blaine finally let go of the world, with love imprinted on his ears and lips and heart.
.***.
we just saw the nationals episode and remembered why we loved this show so much. once more: anyone wants to see some violence or h/c or something strange happen to your favorite character, drop us a line and we'll see what we can do.