The Boy Who Saved Me | A Klaine Fanfiction (Glee)

~ chapter eleven ~

I have always loved my little home as a kid.

It was a safe place and I knew every corner and every little scratch in the wall. Especially the one's I was responsible for.

I spend my day playing on the street with Cooper and the neighbors’ kids till it got dark.

We knew it was time to go inside, when my dad parked his big black car, that he's got from the rich company, for which he is working for, in our driveway.

But the days, where my father comes home for dinner, became rarer and rarer, as my brother and I grew up.

Our neighbors moved to Los Angeles, and thus my only friends in middle school.

While I recognized the alcohol addiction of my father, Cooper tried to break free more and more.

At first his grades got worse and he began taking drugs and party all the time. Eventually he dropped out of school and headed to New York with the motorcycle, that my parents bought him for his 18th birthday, to start a new life as an actor.

Until this day I've never heard from him or seen him in a movie.

But my father didn't notice the problems my brother had, because he always left the house so early in the morning, to go to work and got home late in the evening, usually intoxicated.

That's why he's still thinking, Cooper will come back some day and that I'm the black sheep of the family.

As he started drinking in the morning, he lost his job, his car and his reputation.

My mom got him a new job in a car shop and bought me a small car with the money she secretly saved up for fifteen years, in case of an emergency.

I still don't know, why buying a car for her son is an emergency, but especially on days like today I'm very grateful about it, because now this is my safe place, which is now standing in front of the little house, that I used to love so much, with me sitting in it for already twenty minutes, scared and dressed with a long-sleeve sweater to cover my bruises on the arm.

¤¤¤

Ultimately I took a deep breath, opened the car door, grabbed my black sports bag and headed to the front door.

I turned the key and stood in a dimly lit floor.

Quietly I went into the living room. There was my father sleeping on the couch.

"Hi, Dad", I whispered.

His rumbling as an answer demonstrated my disturbance and I quickly ran into the kitchen, where my mother was standing in front of the stove cooking something that looked like a stew.

"Blaine", she yelled as she noticed me, and hugged me tightly.

"Are you alright?", she mumbled into my hair.

"I am, Mom", I replied relieved.

She backed away and scanned me from the bottom to the top.

"What's that?", she stopped looking at my arms and rolled up my sleeves.

A cold shiver rolled down my spine and I froze.

"It's...it's nothing. Just...please don't tell dad", I stuttered.

"I won't. Who did that to you? Do you have a violent boyfriend, I don't know of?".

The fact that her first guess was a violent partner had set my alarm bells ringing. I swallowed heavily and took her hands.

"Yes, I've got a boyfriend, but he's the opposite of violent. He actually saved me from the dudes, who did this to me", I tried to reassure her, "Can I take a little snack and go to my room? The weekend was very tiring".

She nodded and gave me a plate with stew.

I quickly went upstairs and locked myself in my room.

I did it. I survived. I got into my room without an outburst of rage of my father.

I put the plate with stew on my desk and dialed the number, Kurt gave me.

“Hey, stranger”, Kurt said right after he had picked up, “Are you alright?”.

“Yeah, I’m fine. My Mom found out though, but she promised not to tell my father. And he’s asleep, so I won’t have to face him tonight”, I replied.

“That sounds great. So what are you doing?”, Kurt said.

"Just laying on my bed, and you?”, I asked.

"Thinking about someone special”, he answered.

“You’re so kinky, Kurt!”, I laughed.

¤¤¤

I ate my stew, which I had almost forgotten about, while we continued talking for three more hours.

At some point I yawned.

“I think I should go to bed. I didn’t sleep that well last night”, I assumed.

“Yeah, I don’t even know why”; Kurt joked, “Good night, Blainey”.

“Good night, Kurtie”, I said and hang up, already heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

On my way I heard a noise coming from downstairs.

It was my father’s angry voice, which I recognized immediately.

I approached the stairs as I hurt a slap and a gasp followed.

What the hell just happened? Did my father slap my mother? But for what?

I couldn’t move until my father seemed to go upstairs.

Quickly I sprinted into the bathroom and closed the door.

When I heard my parent’s bedroom door slam shut, I opened the door carefully and went downstairs, where my mother sat on the couch, holding her cheek whilst crying.

I ran to her and hugged her tightly.

We just sat there for ten minutes just staring into the darkness of the room.

“You need to know, that your father isn’t a bad man. I think it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said that he cannot spend all our money on alcohol, because we’re broke”, she tried to break the silence.

“Mom, it’s definitely not your fault”, I answered in shock.

Why would she think something like that? Suddenly she stood up.

“I should probably sleep”, she said heading upstairs.

I still sat on the couch shocked, before I decided to finally brush my teeth and go to bed as well, because there was literally nothing else to do to help my mother.

After that, I plumbed down on my bed and finally fell asleep after ten minutes of thinking.