A/n: I am SO sorry. I have no excuses for how unfeasibly late this is. I feel AWFULL and you have only my most honest apologies.

So. My writers block has subsided, I'm pretty sure Blaine hates me right now because of this chapter, and Jesse is a bitch. ON WITH THE SHOW THEN!

Warnings: Strong language and gay slurs, which in no way reflect my own opinion on homosexuality. Do not for a second think they do. They are my Character's thoughts, not my own. I merely give them voices.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Never have, never will. If I did, I would also own the Glee Project, and I clearly don't, because if I did I would have brought Ellis back. (Me, bitter? Never...) (NO SPOILERS, we've only seen up to dance-ability here in the UK.) I also don't own any of the characters featured on Glee. Most references aren't mine. I don't own Gregory Peck either. Although I think my Mum wishes she did.

Chapter 7 -

Kurt trailed his finger along the selection of books and CD's in Rachel room. He was honestly surprised when he saw the collection Jane Austen novels, but then again, this was Rachel- she was bound to be a sucker for romance. And truth be told, "Emma" had always been one of Kurt's favourites, too.
"I'm back!" Rachel's voice echoed round the door and Kurt perched himself on the bed and waited for her. He watched as she cheerfully hung up her ugly betty-esque purple poncho on the back of her bedroom door.
"So, Kurt, you wanted to speak with me?" Rachel gave a bright smile and sat next to him.
"I did... Rachel, you are aware of what you're getting yourself back into here, right? With Jesse I mean?"
"Of course- why wouldn't I be? I don't know why you guys are all so bothered, I mean, what reason could he possibly have for hurting me? You're being ridiculous." Rachel's bangs flew out around her face in a halo as she shook her head.
"What reason? Rachel, we were the ones who had to console you when he went all anti-vegan on your head; "for no apparent reason"! Does that not tell you anything?" Kurt exclaimed, waving his arms as he spoke "Do you not remember how they TP'd the choir room and then did some almighty queen number, ON OUR OWN TURF? Does this not ring any bells?"
Rachel stuck her nose in the air. "I don't know what you mean."
"Yes you do, don't give me that diva rubbish Rachel! I know you like the thought of being independent and fighting your own battles, but there's a difference between showing your strengths alone and wilfully walking back into trouble you're oblivious to!"
Rachel stood up and walked over to her shelf to fiddle with her sheet music collection, before letting out a loud sigh.
"I was being honest Kurt. I seriously don't remember any of that." She shook her head. "Jesse wouldn't egg me. I don't know how you've got that impression."

Blaine idled the car outside of Rachel's house, and waved to Kurt when he saw him trudging out of the door, a sour confused look on his face.

Leaning over to pop the door open, he almost fell out of the car when Kurt thrust the door open from the outside, with a force greater than Blaine thought he could have mustered, and practically threw himself in the car.

Blaine looked him over and leant on the acceleration slightly, steering away from the Berry's sidewalk.

"Someone's in a good mood?" He asked, eyes focused on the road.

Kurt grunted something and folded his arms, reminding Blaine of Finn for the first time since he had met Kurt.

"Seriously, what's up?"

"Why are there so many empty "red vines" wrappers in your car?"

"Because they're awesome. Don't change the subject Kurt; tell me what's got you worried."

He sighed and fiddled with the sleeve of his cream cashmere jumper, trying to find the words to speak.

"Rachel says she doesn't remember any of what happened with Jesse. Like, none of it. Not even the egging. And she was distraught about that. Well, when it first happened she was, anyway."

Blaine raised his eyebrows and glanced at Kurt.

"Seriously? I mean, from what you guys said, Jesse sounded like a nightmare?"

"Oh, he was, trust me! I just... I don't know what's brought this on. Last time I heard, she would never forgive him if he so much as breathed in her direction, and now she's just forgotten? It makes no sense. And it's not as if she's just...brushed it under the rug either! She genuinely has no recollection of what happened! It's like it's just...gone from her head! Y'know, like one minute it's there and then, poof! It's gone!" Kurt mimed and explosion with his hands as he finished, and leant back on the head rest in frustration.

Blaine bit his lip and pulled over, deep in thought.

He turned towards Kurt and placed a hand on his cheek gently.

"Hey, look whatever it is; I'm sure we can sort it out, okay? We just need to make sure the other guys know, and then we can take it from there. For now we've got other things to worry about.

Kurt looked up at him through his lashes and gave a brief nod, before registering the rest of the sentence and frowning slightly as Blaine started up the car again and pulled away from the sidewalk.

"what other things?"

"Well...my parents for starters."

...

Kurt stared up at the big house that loomed before him. He knew Blaine must have been doing alright for himself if he was attending Dalton, but, seriously? This house was freaking MASSIVE.

From the outside it looked like a huge- though extremely well looked after -apartment building, and he struggled to get his head around the fact that Blaine's family owned more than just one floor of the grand expanse before him. The walls were all painted an artistic white, with wide windows on each floor, probably just a bit smaller than floor to ceiling. A grand door stood at the front of the house, in front of a set of cleanly swept stairs that lead down to the sidewalk, where Kurt stood, rooted to the spot. The door was painted a glossy deep black, and had a knocker on it that Kurt half expected to twist into the face Marley's ghost, like something out of "A Christmas Carol". There were arrays of brightly coloured flowers placed in flowerbeds at the foot of the steps to the house, which continued on around the perimeter, before stopping at large metal fence painted a similar white to the house, which must have been in front of their back garden.

Kurt sucked in a deep breath while continuing to mentally evaluate the exterior of the house.

He turned to where Blaine had fallen into step next to him and raised his eyebrows.

"You garden?"

Blaine shook his head with a small smile. "No, not me, my Mom. She's an artist, and she tends to garden when she can't find inspiration. It gets her frustration out I guess."

Kurt nodded, a smile ghosting over his lips. "My mom use to garden too. 'cept she was a nurse, not an artist. Her favourites were lilies. Back at the old house we had them in abundance, she'd grow them everywhere." He let out a ghost of a laugh at this, and drew in a shaky breath. "She even had lilies at her funeral. White ones. She liked white best."

Kurt felt Blaine place and arm around his shoulders and squeeze gently.

"c'mon. Were gonna need all the confidence we can get if we're going to do this."

Kurt nodded and lifted his head, so that his chin jutted forward slightly. No one pushes the Hummel's around. No one.

He followed Blaine shyly up the steps to the house and stood behind him quietly as he reached up and knocked on the door.

The door flew open and a woman with jet black hair tied up in a messy French plait, wearing a loose white blouse and dark pants pulled Blaine into fierce hug.

"Blaine, baby! I've missed you!" She drew back from the hug and caressed Blaine's cheek with her thumb. "How are you?"

He chuckled slightly shuffled his feet a little.

"I'm good, Mom. And you?"

She waved her hand in the air as if trying to brush away the comment.

"Oh, you know I'm fine. I thought you weren't coming back from your school trip for a while though honey? What happened?" Confusion passed over her face, darkening it from its previously wide and open brightness.

"Well, see, that's what I'm here to talk about. Is dad in?"

Blaine's Mom gave a weak smile and nodded, stepping aside a little, gesturing to Blaine for him to come in.

"Sure, sweetie. You go into the front room, I'll call him down."

Blaine smiled and walked forward, before turning back and gesturing for Kurt to come in too.

He stepped over the threshold of the house and gave a polite nod to Blaine's mom, who smiled confusedly back.

"Mom, this is Kurt, Kurt this is my mom, Helen."

Blaine gestured between the two, alleviating the awkwardness a little.

"It's nice to meet you Mrs Anderson." Kurt smiled gently and extended his hand, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

"You must be the one Blaine was always talking about. The one that sang "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" ? Blaine kept telling us how good you were. It's lovely to finally meet you. And none of that Mrs Anderson, I'm Helen to everyone else." She gave a polite wink and followed Blaine into the front room, before climbing the stairs, to find Mr Anderson.

The front room was, gratefully, much less soulless than the outside of the house. They had a small sofa perpendicular to a neat little electric fireplace, the mantelpiece of which was covered with small trinkets and pictures, the morning's mail taking pride of place in the centre, waiting to be opened. The sofa it's self had a tartan quilt thrown over it, to cover it from Helen's paint stains, Kurt assumed. There was a small coffee table at the edge of it covered in random pieces of paper; letters, memos, hastily scribbled notes and shopping lists, all pinned down by a pair of coffee mugs, one white with blue stripes, the other white with pink, both stained brown from their past use this morning, the rich smell of coffee winding up to Kurt's nose and putting him at some level of ease. The cool cream colour of the walls provided a nice contrast to the bright colour of the arrangement of canvases hung up around the room, displaying mixtures of landscapes and portraits that Kurt assumed Helen had painted.

He flopped down on to the sofa after seeing Blaine doing the same and smiled at him encouragingly. "I like your Mom, she seems nice."

Blaine nodded and gave a small sigh. "Yeah. She's amazing. I think you'll be less impressed with my Dad though."-

"Blaine?"

Kurt stood when he saw Blaine rise from the sofa, and turned to face the man coming down the stairs.

"Dad."

Kurt surveyed Mr Anderson as he came down the stairs, being careful not to make it too obvious. He was a man of average height, a little taller than Kurt and a considerable amount taller than Blaine. His hair was in a similar style to his son's, without the wild curls Blaine had clearly inherited from his mother, and it was easy to see who Blaine had modelled his hair on when he desperately tried to glue his curls down with copious amounts of gel. He seemed to remind Kurt of Gregory Peck's Atticus Finch, right down from the circular glasses perched on the end of his nose to the loose cream cardigan he wore over his dress shirt and tie. Even his light brown slacks screamed 1950's.

Blaine seemed to find his tongue somewhere in the awkward silence and gestured to Kurt.

"Dad. This is, uh, this is my friend, Kurt."

Kurt held his arm out to Mr Anderson as he descended the final step, pumped it stiffly into Mr Anderson's hand shake.

"Nice to meet you, Sir." He managed, slightly intimidated by the man's presence.

"I'm Alan." He corrected, before gesturing for them to sit down again, and standing in front of them.

"What's caused you to come back from the trip so soon?" he asked simply, getting straight to the point.

Blaine looked down slightly and shuffled his feet, before sighing and doing his best to look into his father's eyes.

"Dad, I better start out by setting the record straight. Kurt...Kurt's not just my friend. He's my boyfriend too"-Kurt thought he saw something change in Mr Anderson's expression at this- "and, he, uh, he used to go to Dalton too, bu-"

"-You mean to tell me, that this...this...person your dating, he doesn't go to Dalton?"

"Well, no, not anymore, but-"

Mr Anderson frowned but motioned with his hand for Blaine to continue, a disapproving look fixing it's self on his face.

"Well, see the reason he came to Dalton is because he had to watch over me-"

Helen clapped a hand to her mouth and moved it away slowly when everyone looked at her.

"Blaine, honey, why did you need watching over? What's going on?"

"Mom, Dad, the reason I'm here is because... I'm a..I'm a mutant."

Blaine's parents sharply drew in a breath at the same time, Helen's eyes swelling with shock, Alan's eyebrows knitting tighter together.

"...And, that's why Kurt was there. He's a mutant too, and he knew that I was too, so he helped me...discover it I guess." Blaine took Kurt's hand gently, and squeezed it slightly, issuing a sharp look from Blaine's father. "So, I visited the school Kurt currently goes to, and it's... special... different. They have the biggest collection of mutants in one town at that school, it's impressive. And so, see, that's where I was. I wasn't on a school trip; I was in Lima, learning about my powers and abilities. And they've offered me a permanent position at the school... which is why I'm here. I want to accept the offer. I want to stay there and leave Dalton."

A pregnant silence fell over the four of them, Kurt waiting for one of them to stand up and scream, to cheer, to tap dance, to stand up and run out of the house singing the hallelujah chorus, anything rather than this quiet staring, and the feeling of Blaine's parent's eye's boring down into him.

That was, until Blaine's father started laughing. A slow, incredulous, unbelieving laugh.

"Well, you're kidding me right? This is clearly some kind of joke. You can't just leave Dalton; you're an Anderson, its tradition."

"I'm sorry Dad, it's not a joke, I'm moving to Kurt's school, and-"

"Like hell you are!" he yelled, his voice bouncing of the walls, anger pounding in his veins.

"Alan, please-" Helen reached her hands up to her husband's arm, her voice pleading.

"Helen, if you knew what was good for you, you'd be quiet right now!" He snapped, turning his head to regard her angrily.

"And you", he snapped, turning back to Blaine. "I knew this would have something to do with your fag of a boyfriend!-"

"Hey!-"

"Don't you dare answer me back, Anderson! You lost the right to talk to me like that a long time before realised you were fucking freak-"

"Hey! You can call me what the fuck you want but as soon as you insult my boyfriend and, need I remind you, your son, that's when you step over the line!" Kurt screamed, his fists clenched at his sides. "Blaine is one of the most talented people I know, and you'd be lucky to consider him a friend, never mind a son! He's a perfect, amazing person, and you have no right to treat him like that, just because he's found out he can do things you can only dream of. If you're willing to go ahead with that, then fine. Screw you." He finished and grabbed Blaine's hand, filling the pair with confidence.

"I can't believe you're actually doing this." Blaine's father stared at them in disbelief, pushing his fallen glasses back up his nose. "Get out of my house. You're not my son."

Helen stood up at this, and raced towards her husband.

"Alan-"

He flung his the back of his hand out as she came towards him, he side of his hand striking up her cheek and sending her sprawling to the ground, his wedding ring catching her skin as the hit landed, causing a fine cut on the rising welt on her cheek, as small line of blood falling fell from it and mingled with her tears.

Blaine looked on with a tortured expression, pulling away from Kurt's side to go to Helen.

"mom..."

"She is not your mother. Now get out of this house, before I throw you out."

Sadness welled up in the pit of Kurt's stomach, wringing out his insides and churning up all kinds of emotions he had only ever felt once before- whenever he imagined how his coming out could have happened- as Blaine gave his father a dark glare and ran from the house.

...

He thundered down the corridor, fists balled at his sides, shoulder's squared.

This wasn't fair.

This sucked.

Rachel was his girl. Period. And now she was acting all weird and he knew exactly who was to blame. He could also hazard a guess at why, but that might lead to how, and that was where he was a bit stuck.

Kurt would usually help him out here; help him figure it out, because, seriously, thinking hurt sometimes. But since Blaine had been looking to transfer, their "lady chats" had been less and less frequent. And that sucked too, because as freaked out as he had been over Kurt's crush last year, he actually grown to like the little guy as a brother.

Finn reached the door the music room and slammed it open, zoning in on his target straight away. He sat alone at the piano, plunking out a slow melody that Finn didn't really recognise. Probably off some Broadway show.

"Jesse."

Jesse turned slowly, his curls hanging over his forehead and lingering just above his eyes. His green/grey eyes. His eyes were...

"Yes, Finn ?"

Weird. His eyes were weird. Jeez Hudson, get a grip.

"It's Rachel. I don't know what the hell you've done to her, but you have. She loves me, man. And you need to accept that and quit pulling this shit to get her to change her mind and then break her heart. It's not cool."

"I'm aware she loves you Finn. I didn't have an exactly high estimation of you to begin with, but I didn't have you down as the type to boost their ego by bragging to the decidedly less fortunate."

"...What? Look, she used to be hanging onto my every word, and would never leave my side. And I loved that about her. Now she just sits by herself with this dreamy look on her face and avoids all my advances. She's cancelled every date, and she shies away whenever I make a move. I don't know what you've done, but I want you to stop it."

Jesse raised his chin towards Finn and a smirk crossed his lips. There was no way Finn could avoid his eyes now. They sparkled. They were really awesome eyes, actually. Like, seriously, awesome eyes. They went on forever. They were nice eyes. Nicer than Rachel's. Nicer than everyone's...

"Finn, I want you to listen to me. I like you. I'm pretty sure you like me. There's no reason you wouldn't like me. I'm a great guy. You don't love Rachel. Rachel doesn't love you. Rachel does, however, love me. And you don't have a problem with that. Are we clear?"

"uuhhhmmm."

"Good. Now wipe the corner of your mouth, you're drooling."

Finn lifted his hand to the corner of his lips drunkenly and wiped at the saliva with his sleve.

"Oh dude, that's embarrassing, I normally only do that when I'm asleep..."

"I can imagine." Jesse muttered turning back to the piano and trying out a different tune this time. "I'll see you later Finn."

A/n: Wow. I'm so glad I got the scene with Alan out of the way, he was so hard to write. I had this person I my head, I knew what I wanted him to say, how I wanted him to act, but could I tell you what he looked like or even his name? No. All my family got out of me when they offered to help was "Well I know he's Blaine's dad...". ARGH. Anyway. I hope you liked it, and I hope it worked out okay in the end. Also? I'm not physic like Brittany, Charles Xavier, or even Edward Cullen. Me no know what your opinion of this is. Please leave a review, as I am HUGLEY unsure over the scene with Blaine's parents. Do you like Helen? Do you hate Alan? Do you like the story? Do you hate it? LEMME KNOW! :) (Apologies again for the wait...)