AN: Bah! Here you go, the sequel to Behind the Klaine! Though I would prefer if you read that first, you don't have to in order to understand this story!
SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3! This story takes place afterwards, after all ;)
Warnings for homophobia, jerky parents for Blaine, Blangst, but awesome Burt!
I DON'T OWN GLEE, SKILLET (Title of story from their song 'Whispers in the Dark', as are chapter titles)
Chapter 1: When Darkness Comes
Kurt sighed, staring at the pile of boxes sitting innocently next to his suitcase.
They had been his things for New York, but as of now, that wasn't an option. So now he had to unpack.
He felt like he was about to rip his heart out and stomp on it as he approached the first box. More so than the 'thanks, but no thanks' letter he'd received, this symbolized his extended stay in Lima. This was the final straw in tying his wings together so he couldn't fly.
Part of him wanted to just leave everything packed so he could pretend, if only for a little while, that it had all been some cruel dream and he was going to wake up and board the train for New York just like Rachel. He kind of wanted to just go and try his luck, despite not getting into college, to prove to himself that he could, but he wouldn't. That was impractical and would just hurt him even more.
Besides, there was one key factor that prompted him to stay in Ohio-one Mr. Blaine Anderson.
Some people may've thought it was silly to not chase their dreams as soon as they could for a boy, but this was Blaine. His Blaine. Probably the most perfect human being to have ever lived.
With newfound resolve, Kurt carefully tore open the first box, fighting back an onslaught of tears when he saw a few outfits he had packed to enter New York with a bang staring up at him.
This was going to be harder than he thought.
Kurt started, nearly falling from his chair at his father's stern voice. He was almost certain his dad hadn't sounded this harsh since he was ten and had cried and screamed for hours because his dad told him he had to work late.
"Stop what exactly? Breathing?" Kurt snapped, imiedetly regretting it. It wasn't his fault his fault his defense mechanism was sarcasm, but it had been so long since he'd actually used it, especially around someone he loved as much as his father.
Burt wasn't deterred by his son's attitude, simply explaining "You've been moping around the house for three days like I just sold all your scarves or somethin'."
Kurt raised an eyebrow at the analogy, his hand absentmindedly resting on the dark blue scarf currently wrapped around his throat. "Trust me dad, I'd be a lot more than moping if you sold my scarves."
"That's beside the point," Burt easily dismissed, sitting down in the chair next to him and leaning forwards. Kurt would know that look anywhere-that was his 'I'm going to give you some fatherly advice' look. Kurt certainly wasn't complaining; he kind of needed some fatherly advice right about now.
"Look, kid," he started, green eyes staring unwaveringly. "I know this is hard on you-you've wanted to get out of here since you were five and understood that the world was bigger than our house, but this… this sitting around staring at the wall is honestly scaring me. I mean, the only time you've done anything since graduation was when you went to see Blaine after you got that letter, and I'm pretty sure all you did was cry, am I right?"
Kurt said nothing, which both of them knew meant yes.
Burt sighed, running a large hand over his bald head. "You know I want what's best for you, right? That's what every father wants from his son. And this depressed attitude is definitely not what's best for you, even more so with everything that's happened."
Kurt huffed irritably, leaning back and crossing his arms and legs. "What am I supposed to do, go back in time and tell myself to pick a better audition song? Convince myself to apply to easier colleges that will let any old loser in? Or maybe I should just tell myself that I won't get in so I have more time to prepare."
"Kurt," Burt said warningly. "You know that's not what I mean. There are lots of thing you could do that would benefit your future."
Kurt untangled his limbs and leaned forwards, intrigued. The spark of hope was once again starting to light his eyes.
"Take some online classes, get a job that's not run by your father, and do some community theater. It shows determination and credibility-I don't know a single college that doesn't like those things. Besides, then you've got a head start and you can focus on more singing and acting classes or whatever instead of the mandatory math and English and such because you'll have started them on your own."
Kurt stared at him, dumbfounded. It was moments like this that reminded him how lucky he was to have his father, and just how amazing and helpful his father was.
"It's really that easy?" Kurt wondered aloud.
Burt grinned. "You, just like every other teenager and college kid I've ever met, make life way harder than it needs to be. Just go with the flow-you'll figure it out. You are a Hummel, after all."
With a renewed spring in his step that had been lost with his rejection from New York, Kurt made his way to the Anderson's front door. He had to tell Blaine the good news, after all, and assure him that he was fine and was going to go to New York with some experience under his belt other than show choir. Oh, and of course discuss college options in New York for Blaine and help him plan so they could go together, living their dream.
The elated grin on his face fell into polite cordiality when, instead of his boyfriend, it was his father, Mr. Anderson, answering the door. It was strange, seeing him there. He and the misses were gone so often Kurt was used to having the house to him and his boyfriend.
The dark haired man didn't give Kurt the nicety of forced hospitality, instead asking gruffly "What do you want?"
Kurt had only met Mr. Anderson once, back during the summer he and Blaine had first started dating and the younger boy introduced him as his boyfriend, as was customary.
Blaine's mother had gotten a strange look on her face, but had shaken his hand and acknowledged the fact that they were together. He could tell she was still adjusting to having a gay son (Kurt kind of wanted to yell that it had been years, she should've gotten over it by now, but refrained, knowing how, sadly, it was hard for some people), but at least she was trying. Even if she was never around and barely spoke to Blaine when she was home, she still tried.
Blaine's father, on the other hand, was a different story entirely. The moment he and Kurt locked eyes they reached a mutual, nonverbal understanding-they hated each other. Kurt hated that Blaine's dad never talked or hung out with Blaine anymore unless it was about girls or cars or football. He hated how he was trying to convince his son to be straight. Mostly he just hated how much it affected Blaine, and how many insecurities and self-loathing Blaine had picked up because of it. Kurt could only assume Blaine's father hated him for being gay, and for being with his son (the ignorant bastard).
However, when they shook hands, both of them glaring harshly at one another, they came to another understanding. They were both important to Blaine, as grudgingly as they hated to admit it about each other. So, they never yelled or forced Blaine to choose-they tolerated. Because as much as Kurt didn't want to admit it, Blaine's father loved his son, even if he hated the fact that he was gay.
Blaine said that sometimes his father would ask if they had broken up yet and if Blaine was over his phase, but he never outright expressed any hatred for Kurt. Blaine had been saddening happy when he explained this to Kurt, just as he'd been happy when Kurt said that he hated what Blaine's father did to him, but not the man as a person (lie, but it was worth it to see Blaine's smile).
"I'm here to see my boyfriend." Kurt told him presently, his voice overly sugarcoated and sweet. He even batted his eyelashes as he said the one word that he knew pissed Mr. Anderson off more than anything-boyfriend. Maybe it was childish, but he honestly couldn't help it. This guy was a douche.
The burly man rolled his eyes, but opened the door and allowed him inside. He didn't even try to hide the whispered "faggot" as Kurt walked by, but the pale boy ignored him, waving to a slightly awkward looking Mrs. Anderson as he ascended the stairs to Blaine's bedroom.
He flung open his boyfriend's bedroom door excitedly, his heart clenching when Blaine looked up at the sound hopefully before his face fell a little. It was obvious Blaine was hoping his parents were coming to talk to him.
Kurt sat down next to him on the bed, his excitement gone. He wrapped an arm around the smaller boy soothingly and kissed the top of his head. "Did they say anything to you yet?" It was horrible that he had to ask the boy if his own parents had spoken to him, but that was how it was.
"My mom said 'hi' and asked how my school year was." Kurt winced. What parent was gone so often they asked about a child's year rather than their day or even week? "My dad just asked if I was still with, um, you, then mom asked me to go to my room." Kurt was almost certain it had been with more colorful wording than that by Blaine's tone and nuzzled his cheek comfortingly, kissing the slight stubble there.
There was a moment of silence where Kurt just rubbed his arm calmingly while Blaine stared at nothing. Kurt didn't know what he was thinking, but he knew when Blaine had that expression it was nothing good.
Finally, heartbreakingly, Blaine said "Do you think they hate me?" He said it so emotionlessly, like he was asking Kurt if he still liked the color blue.
Kurt pulled the other boy across his lap, tucking his gel cover head under his chin. Blaine's hands clutched at Kurt's shirt, seeming of their own volition. "They, don't hate you, baby. They want you to be happy-that's why they let me see you; they know I make you happy, even if they don't like that I'm a boy." That's what Kurt told himself, anyway, whenever Blaine said something pertaining to his parents.
Blaine buried his face in Kurt's chest, shaking his head frantically. "They let you see me because they don't want to deal with me and you preoccupy my time."
Kurt sighed, tugging Blaine closer. He hated it, but he couldn't heal the scars Blaine's parents had given him-only they themselves could do that, and as far as he could tell they weren't willing.
"They'll come around, honey, you'll see." At least Kurt hoped so, for Blaine's sake. "You want to hear how I'm gonna spend this year?"
AN: So, that was the intro. You like?