This story is set just after the events of Original Song. Hope you enjoy it
"What is this?" a roar echoed towards Blaine as he entered his house. He had just got back from school after staying late to study, and he had been hoping for a quiet evening of practicing his guitar before a nice hot shower, and then tucking into this warm bed and chatting to Kurt before he drifted into a peaceful slumber. Blaine's father however had other ideas.
The tall man was standing just inside the door, towering over Blaine as the smaller male stepped into the house. He was a big man; a result of a short career in American football. He was holding a picture in his hand, shoving it in Blaine's face.
Blaine felt a rush of fear as he realised it was a picture of him and Kurt kissing at a park. Mercedes had taken it when they hadn't been looking and given it to Blaine. He had kept it hidden in his room.
"Why were you in my room?" Blaine asked, trying not to let his fear show. His father's eyes seemed to glow red.
"It's my fucking house!" he roared, "I go where I fucking want!" Blaine took a step back as spit flew out of the man's mouth. Blaine didn't dare make a move to wipe the saliva off his face though.
"You didn't answer my question!" the man shoved the picture in Blaine's face again, forcing Blaine to look away. He sighed.
"He's my boyfriend" he finally answered, his voice low. The man slammed his fist against the wall next to Blaine's face. Blaine flinched, his heart pounding. He heard a noise from the staircase and looked over, past his angry father. At the top of the staircase watching the scene was his little sister; Amber. She had blonde curls falling around her face and her brown eyes were wide in horror. She was 11 years old but looked so much younger with her eyes so big and moist.
"How dare you!" their father growled in a low voice.
"What?" Blaine asked, shaking.
"Don't act a fool!" his dad scowled his fist curling, "I thought this whole gay thing was you spiting me and your mother, but now it's gone too far! First you drive your mother out and now this!" the man took a step back, fury in his eyes as he clutched his fists so tight his knuckles turned white.
"I didn't drive Mum out; you did with your temper!" Blaine retorted, anger boiling within him. His father looked at him for a second before drawing his clutched fist back and hitting Blaine in the face. Amber yelled as Blaine fall backwards into the wall and slipped down a few inches. He held his nose, which was bleeding though his fingertips.
"Amber, get to your room!" his father yelled. Amber, who was crying, hesitated.
"NOW!" the man yelled, shaking the whole house. The young girl jumped in fright and run out of sight. Blaine looked at his father, fear and anger in his eyes.
"You should have never gone to that school!" his father yelled as Blaine's blood dripped onto the floor, "It just made you more gay!" Blaine moved backwards away from his father as he spoke.
"You can't make someone more gay"
"If you had gone to a normal school then you would have met girls and you wouldn't be a fucking fag!"
"I tried going out with girls Dad!" Blaine yelled, making his way into the kitchen. He grabbed some kitchen roll and held it up to his nose. His father followed him, still clutching his fists.
"If you had tried harder then it would have worked!" he yelled. Blaine turned away from his father and spat into the sink. He looked at the tissue which was already soaked red.
"Dad, I'm gay. You're going to have to accept it because I'm not changing" Blaine told his father. Suddenly he felt large hands on his shoulders and he was spun round and thrown across the room. He hit a table hard and a cry of pain escaped his mouth.
"I'm not having you spitting on the Bible and setting a bad example for your sister anymore!" his father yelled, grabbing Blaine's arm and dragging him out of the room. The grip was tight and Blaine felt like his arm was going to snap.
"What are you doing?" Blaine yelled, struggling to get out of his father's hold.
"I'm not having a fag live in my house anymore!" his father answered, his voice full of fury. The word 'fag' echoed in Blaine's ears and tears jumped to his eyes.
"You can't just throw me out!" Blaine protested, "I'm your son!"
"You're no son of mine!" his father growled. They reached the stairs and he throw Blaine towards them. Another cry of pain leapt from Blaine's lips as he hit the wooden steps.
"You have twenty minutes to get your crap and leave!" His father roared, watching Blaine struggle to get up and stumble up the steps. Blaine ran into his room, holding his chest and panting. He looked around his room for a second, panic running through him. He ran to his wardrobe, throwing the doors open and grabbing the two suitcases from the bottom. He opened both of them and threw clothes in them. He tipped out his drawers and got all his school books and chucked them on top of the unfolded messy clothes. He grabbed his laptop and all the chargers he needed.
"Blaine?" a soft cry called out from the door. Amber was standing there looking at him. Her eyes were red and her cheeks wet. Blaine crossed the room and enveloped her into a hug. They were both shaking.
"Amber, you have to go back to your room" Blaine told her, bending down so they were eye to eye.
"I don't want you to go" Amber cried, looking at him with sad, terrified eyes.
"I know, I don't want to go either but I can't stay here" Blaine told her, "You have my cell number, call me whenever you need me" Amber nodded, holding onto Blaine's arm. It was a different sort of grip than the one his father used. This one was tight but in desperation and worry; not anger and hurt. Blaine kissed her forehead.
"Go to your room Amber, and don't come out until Dad's calmed down" Amber nodded, tears falling down her cheeks. She let go and left. Blaine sighed, still shaking.
"Five minutes!" his father yelled up the stairs. Blaine wiped his face before zipping up his suitcases and running down the stairs with them. He threw them out of the door and ran back upstairs. He grabbed his guitar case, which held his acoustic guitar, and his quilt and pillows. He looked around his room. He still had a lot of things in there but he didn't have time to grab them. He let out a sigh and turned to leave his room. He jumped back as he saw his father standing behind him.
"I'm leaving" Blaine hissed back, trying to shove past his father.
"Let me help you" his father snarled, grabbing the $500 guitar and throwing it down the stairs. Blaine watched as it went flying through the air. It hit the ground causing the case to break open to reveal a very lucky unhurt guitar. Blaine looked at it in horror before he felt hands push him and he went sailing down the stairs. Pillows flew out of his hands as he tried to stop himself falling. His chin hit a step and he rolled over the last few before he landed on his guitar case. Blaine could not breathe for a couple of seconds as he sat up. A splitting pain went through his chest as he tried to breathe and as he pushed himself up pain shot through his wrist.
"Get out!" His father shouted. Blaine stumbled around, picking up his things as he heard his father coming down the stairs. Without looking at his father, Blaine rushed out of the house, knowing outside in the sight of his neighbours his father couldn't do anything. Fear still rushed through the young boy as he rushed to his car. The keys wouldn't fit in the lock in Blaine's panic and a cry escaped his lips. He finally managed to unlock the door and he threw the guitar and the now dirty bed wear in the back. He dumped the two suitcases into the boot before rushing to the front seat and pulling away.
As soon as his wheels were away from the kerb, tears made their way through Blaine's barrier and poured down his face. The tears felt hot against his cold cheeks and they made the dried blood on Blaine's face drip again. Blaine didn't move to wipe them though. His heart was pounding as Blaine drove away from his home. The house he grew up in. Had his first birthday in and the street he met his childhood friend in. The garden where he had played with his sister.
Blaine's tears grew heavier as he got further and further away. The tears began to fog his vision so he pulled into a petrol station and into a parking space. Once the ignition was off, Blaine lent his head onto his steering wheel and let the tears flow and the sobs escape his throat. Pain shot through his chest as the sobs shook his whole body.
Calm down, Blaine thought, holding his chest as he struggled to breathe. His father's face kept flashing in front of his eyes. The anger. The hate. The madness. Blaine's ears were ringing with his father's voice and his sister's cries, and his head was spinning. He looked up into his mirror and was shocked at the person staring back. There was blood covering half his face and the other half was bruised and purple. Blaine touched just under his left eye and winced as pain shot through his face. He sighed and looked down to his blazer which was soaked in blood. Blaine cursed because it was his only blazer. He went to take it off but yelped as pain went through his chest and right wrist.
"Ouch" he whimpered, breathing slowly. He got out of the car and slowly took his blazer off, trying not to move too much and unable to use his right hand. Blaine tore off his tie, which was also covered in blood, as he noticed he was getting looks from people in the patrol station. His white shirt was dyed red and it was sticky against his skin. He noticed a woman and a little boy walking back to their car. The boy pointed at Blaine, his eyes wide. The woman looked shocked and picked the boy up, hurrying back to the car whilst shielding the boy's eyes. Blaine slammed the car door shut and went to his boot, feeling angry. While he was fishing around for a clean t-shirt, he felt a tap on his back. Blaine jumped, spinning around and holding his chest. It was the woman.
"Are you ok?" she asked. Blaine noticed she had kind eyes which were full of concern. He lowered his head, staring at his feet.
"Did someone hurt you?" the woman asked, putting a hand on Blaine's arm; a gentle grip, "Should I call the Police" Blaine shook his head, panic rising in him again. He looked back up.
"No...I just fell over" he told her, "I hit my nose on the kerb but I didn't realise how much I was bleeding until I was driving" Blaine moved backwards so the woman's hand fell from his arm.
"It looks like you should go to the hospital, it looks pretty bad" Blaine shut his boot and conquered up the best smile it could.
"I'm fine, I just need to clean up" he said, "Thank you though" the woman smiled back, however she still looked concerned. She returned to her car. Blaine closed his eyes briefly before locking his car and walking over to the petrol station.
"Dude; your face! Do you want me to call you an ambulance?" the teenager behind the till asked.
"No, its fine" Blaine sighed, "Do you have a restroom I can clean up in?" the teenager pointed to a door behind some selves and Blaine followed his finger, entering a small, dingy toilet.
He cleaned all the blood off his face and looked in the mirror. He still looked a mess, with his left eye bruised and swollen. His face was purple and blue, like some kind of dark painting. His nose was swollen and red, but wasn't a weird shape so Blaine hopefully assumed it wasn't broken. He very carefully took his shirt off, the smell of blood making him feel sick. The right side of his chest was swollen, with a massive bruise covering the swollen area. It was clean that at least one rib was broken. His right wrist was also swollen and tender to touch. Blaine sighed heavily as he realised it was probably broken too.
Anger filled him as his father's laugh filled his head. Blaine wasn't ashamed of who he was and no one could ever change that. He hated his father for not accepting him and doing this to him, and for making Amber cry. Blaine felt sad as he thought of Amber. He hoped she would be ok.
Blaine put the t-shirt on, wincing as he raised his arms to do so. His phone started to ring as he carefully lowered the t-shirt over his torso. The ring tone 'Teenage Dream', told him it was Kurt. Blaine answered, leaning against the sink.
"Hey Honey, me and Finn are popping in Pirates of the Caribbean, wanna come snuggle while watching sexy pirates?" Kurt asked, his cheerful voice making Blaine smile slightly. For a split second Blaine considered telling him. Kurt was probably the only person who would take him in right now.
"Eh... No... Sorry, I have some homework to do." Blaine replied quietly.
"Oh, ok." Kurt said, sounding disappointed, "Are you in a bathroom? Your voice is echoing."
"Yeah, I... I just got out the shower" Blaine made up, looking up at his reflection. Blaine decided he needed a shower as he looked at his hair. It was sticking up at weird angles, the gel holding thick parts together.
"So are you wet and naked?" Kurt joked. Surprised by this, Blaine took a second longer to answer.
"I... I guess so." There was a short pause on the other end. Blaine found himself wanting to hear Kurt's voice again.
"Are you ok?" Kurt finally asked, "You sound really down."
Tell him, a voice inside Blaine's head said.
"I..." Blaine started, hesitating.
"I... I'm fine, just... tired and stressed about the exam" Blaine lied, closing his eyes and leaning his head down.
"Ok, get some rest then." Kurt tried to comfort, "You'll do fine in the exam, you know that"
"Call me if you need anything, Honey" Kurt said, "Goodnight"
"... Goodnight" Blaine reopened his eyes as he heard the call end, and took a shaky sigh. He briefly looked at the time and was surprised to see it was 9pm. Blaine threw the web of paper towels he had been using to clean his face into the bin, along with his now ruined shirt, before leaving the bathroom and going back to his car. His body seemed to be on autopilot as he pulled out of the petrol station and onto the road.
The reason Blaine hadn't told Kurt was because he felt that Kurt had enough to deal with at the moment, and it wasn't like they had been going out for long, only a couple of weeks. Blaine didn't actually know how Kurt felt about him and turning up homeless on Kurt's doorstep might just end up in Blaine being rejected again.
And Blaine didn't know how much more rejection he could take. Blaine felt sick as he realised that there was no one he could really call. He felt so pathetic and lonely.
Without realising it, Blaine arrived at Dalton. Blaine looked up at the large, mansion like building as he drove up the drive way and into the parking lot. Dalton had been the first place where he had felt safe. The first place where he had felt like he belonged. The first place that had accepted him.
It only made sense that his mind had subconsciously led him here.
Blaine pulled into a parking lot, under the shelter of some trees, wincing as he used his hand to change gear. Blaine couldn't go into the school. Teachers and prefects mentored the halls for the boarding students and all the outdoor doors would be locked soon. Blaine hadn't been able to afford boarding fees, no matter how much he worked or saved. The difference in cost was incredible and only the students whose parents were extremely well off could afford it. Blaine could only afford day tuition because his late Grandmother had left him a large sum of money for him in his will.
As soon as Blaine turned off his engine he felt extremely tired and worn out. The pain in his chest, head and wrist seemed to be draining all his energy. Blaine got out of the front seat and climbed into the back, wedging himself in-between the back of the seat and the guitar which was on the floor. Wincing as he lent against seat buckles, Blaine laid down on the back seat, the pillows underneath his head.
When Blaine was buying his first car, he was originally going to go with a small, cheaper car. However when he had seen this car, which was long and made a massive boot, he had thought it would be great for transporting his nonexistent band to and from gigs. So Blaine had bought it. Amber had joked that he could live in it if need be. Well, the need had come.
Kurt had been shocked when he had first seen it, because it was a beat up second hand thing, not like the smart, new cars most people had at Dalton. However, all their cars where bought for them by their parents. Blaine always proudly announced that he had bought his car himself with his own money.
Blaine covered himself with his duvet, pulling it up over his head so his whole body was hidden. Trying to ignore the pain he felt everywhere, Blaine took out his iPod and turned on the recording of 'Blackbird' he forced Kurt to make for him. He closed his eyes as Kurt's voice filled his ears.
Hidden and broken, Blaine fall asleep listening to Kurt's soft voice.
End of first chapter. I hope you like it. Please review. I love reviews! I am a British author by the way, so if there are any words or phases that I have used that you don't understand please ask me.