A/N: This is my first fill for a prompt on the Glee Angst Meme. Here is the prompt:
"I'd like to see a fic that explored a slightly more realistic scenario, where Blaine is removed from his parents' home by CPS after serious abuse, and put into the foster system. I'd like Blaine to still be able to remain at McKinley, except now he is having to adjust to life living in a group foster home. What is the reality of it for him? How does New Directions take it? Does anyone treat him differently?"
I couldn't trust this in the hands of anyone else, so had to do it myself. Call me a control freak. This is taking place summer between S2 and S3, same timing as Hold On. Only difference is that they are both going into their Junior Year. Remember this is the angst meme, so expect lots of angst. But angst does NOT need to stem from a breakup. There is so much more wrong with the world, sometimes love is the only source of goodness.
He hadn't meant for anyone to ever find out, but there were some secrets that were impossible to keep forever. He had tried though. He'd done everything.
He had hidden the bruises, day after day. He had muffled his screams, night after night. He had lied over and over again about the marks on his skin, his mother's black eyes. Every time the police came to his house, he assured them that he'd never seen his parents drink, he'd never seen them do drugs. When he got older he swore the marijuana they found hidden in the coffee table drawer was his, and he'd taken the six month probation period all with his mouth silent. His father rewarded him for that. Six months was long enough for the bruises to heal.
He had thought then that maybe it was safe to come out of the closet. Telling his parents was the hardest thing he had ever done. It hadn't occurred to him that things could get worse than they already were. But the Sadie Hawkins dance proved otherwise. His father had forbidden him to go, but he went anyway. When his mother took him to the hospital that evening after the dance, he told the stories of the bullies that had attacked him. He said that three boys had harassed him at the dance, approached him afterwards and then he had the living crap beaten out of him. He never said they'd done it, but he let everyone assume that. He'd been lying for so long that the the lies flowed out of him like air. It took only moments before that lie became his truth.
But his father knew then that the truth was too close to coming out, so he was sent to Dalton and told to keep his mouth shut. Blaine Anderson didn't really need to be told though. He had no plans to ever tell. Getting close to other kids was something he tried not to do anymore. He kept his distance, always putting on the smile that told those around him that he was absolutely fine. It helped that he was free at school. He could lose himself in the safety of Dalton, the music of the Warblers. Nothing could hurt him inside those protected walls, not even his father. And his father knew that the walls protected him as well. He'd gone to Dalton himself. He had been a beloved student and now he was a prized benefactor. Even if his secrets came out, no one would believe Blaine and no one would ever tell.
But neither Blaine nor his father had taken Kurt Hummel into consideration.
Things weren't always bad at home. Blaine's father loved him and his mother and when he was clean and sober, he could be caring and fun and he enjoyed spending time with his son. Blaine soaked up those moments, even if it meant rebuilding a car because his father thought it might make him straight. Blaine laughed, thinking of that long week, as he sat on a bench in the Hummel garage watching Kurt and Burt work on a late model ford Taurus. If his father could see Kurt Hummel, his hands deep in the belly of the engine, he would know exactly how ridiculous his plan truly had been.
"What are you laughing at over there mister?" Kurt arched a brow in his direction as he smirked. "You either come over here and get your hands dirty or I'm going to go over there and…"
"Kurt!" Burt eyed him sternly and Kurt flushed bashfully at his father. Burt shook his head and nudged Kurt's shoulder playfully. Kurt smiled at his Dad and winked at Blaine before the two of them disappeared underneath the car.
That's what Blaine wanted, all the time. He was tired of the snippets of what could be good. He was tired of the not knowing which father he was coming home to each summer day after time spent with Kurt or performing at the theme park. He was tired of not being able to share his whole life and his whole self with Kurt because he had secrets to hide behind his walls and beneath his clothes.
It wasn't that Kurt didn't notice, because he was extremely observant. Kurt noticed every wince, every hesitation, and every evasion especially when he asked to go to the Anderson home. But he believed Blaine's lies because he believed in Blaine and he trusted his boyfriend to tell him if something was wrong. After all, Blaine had promised. But Kurt didn't know the promises Blaine had made to his parents as well.
But one summer evening when Kurt held him too close and Blaine clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes and screamed in pain, Kurt didn't believe the lies anymore.
"I just hurt myself at the theme park, Kurt, it's no big deal. Fell on a dance move." Blaine's eyes were pleading, the amber darkened and dull and scared. Blaine was scared of Kurt and he had never been before.
"Take off your shirt," Kurt whispered, starting to unbutton the linen, but Blaine stopped Kurt's slender fingers, grasping them tightly as he begged, looking anywhere but Kurt's haunted blue eyes.
"Blaine, you're scaring me," Kurt cried as he tried to catch his breath and he could see Blaine's chest rising and falling rapidly as well. Kurt's heart raced with the quickened pulse he felt beneath his fingers, but Blaine said nothing. "Take off your shirt," Kurt ordered this time, not taking no for an answer.
Blaine cried silently as he took his hands off of Kurt's, hands he trusted but were about to betray everything. As Kurt stripped the cloth off of Blaine's skin, he sucked in a breath at what he saw. Old bruises, new bruises, cuts and welts that had healed and ones that were fresh. Kurt swore under his breath as he reached for Blaine's face, trying to wipe the tears away. But at the touch of his hand, Blaine's senses returned and he grabbed his shirt, flinging his arms through the sleeves and over the tell-tale signs of his father's abuse on his back. He heard Kurt calling behind him as he ran out of the house, and he saw Kurt at the front door while the screech of his tires filled the air as he fled from the truth.
His secret was out. All promises were broken.
It was two days later when the social workers knocked on the door to the Anderson Estate. His mother answered and let them in, putting on the brave face that was so well practiced. She knew exactly what to say to make them go away. Things were fine. No, her husband never hit her or Blaine. When their son did something wrong he'd be grounded or have his cell phone taken away. Blaine worked as a performer at the theme park and sometimes he got hurt there. Yes, she took him to the doctor and he was up to date on all his physicals. He went to Dalton Academy, boarded there during the week and came home on weekends. He got straight A's and was the lead singer of their show choir. Of course they could talk to his teachers, they had nothing to hide.
Blaine sat at the top of the stairs listening, escaping to his room before they came up, quietly closing the door behind him. He sat on his bed, knees pulled to his chest. His arms rested on top of them, phone in hand as he texted.
The social workers are here Kurt.
Tell them the truth, Blaine, please.
There was a knock on the door, but they didn't wait for him to answer before a petite redhead and a taller skinny brunette opened the door. He glanced up at the women only quickly, before returning his gaze to his phone. Though they appeared to be kind, he knew their job wasn't kindness. They were here to take him away.
The taller social worker took a seat at his computer desk, the other bent down next to his bed as she spoke to them. "Hi Blaine. My name is Sonja and this is Mary. We're social workers from OFC. Do you know why we're here?"
He nodded as he kept his eyes trained on the screen in front of him. His lifeline. He was alone in the room, but Kurt was with him in his phone and he ignored the social workers to keep typing.
What will you do if I don't tell them, Kurt? Keep calling?
I'll call every day, Blaine, until he doesn't hurt you anymore.
"Can you tell me why you think we're here?" he heard the woman named Mary ask.
"Because you think my father hurts me," he said softly, never taking his eyes off the phone.
Why would you do this to me, Kurt?
I love you.
I hate you.
Don't say that. You don't mean that.
"Can you tell me what safe means to you Blaine?" the redhead Sonja asked.
And what if I do?
I love you even if you hate me.
Kurt's face swam before his eyes. Dalton. The Hudmel house. Hummel Tire and Lube. Those were safe people, safe places. "Safe is where you know that someone is always there for you. You're not scared because you know what to expect." He spoke dreamily, lost in Kurt's words and in the places in his life where he felt safe. "People love you. All the time. No matter what you say or do. No matter who you are. It doesn't change minute by minute. You're loved. You're not alone."
Sonja's eyes were soft as they met his, they were caring, not angry. Her voice mirrored her gaze. "Are you safe at home Blaine?"
He looked away. They gave him the time he needed.
They will take everything from me Kurt. They will take you from me.
They can't do that Blaine, nothing will take you away from me.
Blaine looked at the social workers. They wanted the truth, Kurt wanted him to tell the truth, but as his heart pounded in his chest, he pictured his mother pacing downstairs, his father's anger when he got home. He pictured his future, sent away to live god knows where, with who knows who, never to see Kurt again. He couldn't do it.
Wherever you go Blaine, I'm right beside you.
And what if you're wrong Kurt?
But what if I'm right? And you can be safe?
Kurt, I'm scared.
He felt a soft hand on his, and he didn't flinch. He watched as Sonja ever so gently took the phone from his hands and placed it face down next to him. His eyes were clouded over, his face broken and dejected. His vision swam and he thought he might throw up.
"Are you safe at home, Blaine?" she asked again, even more gently.
Blaine closed his eyes and swallowed his fear. He brought Kurt to mind, and shook his head. "No."
Your thoughts, as always are loved and appreciated.