This is the first story I have ever shared with others, so feedback would be very much appreciated. I started writing this in reaction to a prompt on tumblr, but I think I deviated from the original prompt a bit. This was it:

"Prompt: (Based slightly off the song Concrete Angel) With Kurt in New York and them being broken up, there's no one around to keep a close eye on Blaine. And with him being home more often than he had been, his father begins to take out his drunken abuse on Blaine. And no one notices until its almost too late."

(You can find it on the blangst tag on tumblr, it was prompt #197. I would give a link to the source, but I'm afraid this site won't let me.)

Spoiler alert: This story takes place after 4x03 and before 4x04 (I'm in denial about that episode).

I hope you like it.

(And not to forget:

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters.)

Simply Absent.

"Come on, Blaine, keep up!" Will called out, noticing that Blaine was one step behind the rest of the group. They were practising the choreography of their group number in the auditorium. The boy adjusted his steps and quickly got back on track. The rest of the number went almost without a hitch from any of the kids. When it was done, some of them congratulated each other while others started goofing around on the stage. Blaine, however, moved quietly to the side with an almost unnoticeable limp. Will, who had been watching him, approached him, laying a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

"You okay, Blaine?" he asked, looking pointedly at Blaine's leg.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just twisted my ankle the other day."

"Maybe you should stay off of it for a while."

"It's really not that bad, Mr. Shue," Blaine said with a forced smile. In fact, his ankle was killing him, but he didn't want Mr. Shue to know how bad it really was.

"Okay. But if it gets worse, go to the nurse, alright? I wouldn't want you to miss Sectionals because of a twisted ankle."

"I will."

Will let go of his shoulder and turned to the rest of the group.

"Good work, guys. Just a few things..."

Blaine tuned out the rest of what he was saying. He sat down, his thoughts going to how his ankle had looked that morning, swollen and blue. He knew it could have been worse. But he also knew it could've been avoided altogether. If he had been smarter, or faster, or simply absent... He had put some ice on it the day before and in the morning, right before he had left, but he was certain it had swollen again, considering how much dancing they had been doing during rehearsal. Fortunately, it was Friday, which meant he would be able to give his ankle some time to heal during the weekend.

When he noticed everyone was leaving, Blaine realised Mr. Shue had stopped talking. He stood up gingerly, gathered his bag and left as well, hoping he would be home alone. As he walked out, trying his best to hide his limp but not entirely succeeding, he didn't notice Sam watching him from the wings.

As Blaine entered the house, the smell of alcohol greeted him. He knew from experience that this wasn't necessarily a bad sign, since the house always smelled of alcohol these days. Despite his fear of what he might find, he decided to check the living room, which, to his relief, turned out to be empty. Next, he went to the kitchen to check the supplies and figured he could last the weekend without having to go to the store. If he was lucky, he might be able to just sit back and relax for two days.

As usual these days, Kurt wasn't online when he logged on to Skype half an hour later. He put the laptop on the bedside table, just in case Kurt came later on, and put a DVD in. His homework could wait until tomorrow.

By the time the film was finished, Kurt still hadn't made an appearance. With a sigh of disappointment, Blaine got up, put in another DVD and got comfortable against the headboard again. Kurt probably had a really good reason for being late. It was usually something work-related. Half an hour into the second film, which was almost two hours after the time they had set their Skype-date, he received a text from Kurt, saying he couldn't make it and that he was sorry. Just that. Nothing else. Not even a reason or some work-related excuse explaining why he couldn't be there, or a suggestion to Skype on Saturday or Sunday instead. He didn't pay attention to the rest of the film, but instead spent the evening staring at the TV without actually watching it.

Something was wrong with Blaine. Sam was certain of it, but he hadn't figured out what it was yet. Ever since he had seen Blaine's limp in the auditorium a few weeks before, he had been keeping a closer eye on his friend, who he had grown closer to ever since the election. That's why he had gradually noticed that Blaine had been singing less in Glee club, saying he wanted others to have a chance at a solo as well, and how he would wince slightly every now and then when they were practising more difficult parts of the choreography, no matter how hard the boy tried to hide it. Eventually Sam decided that either Blaine was missing Kurt so hard that he simply didn't feel like singing anymore, or something more serious was going on that he didn't know about. Or both. Sam knew the missing Kurt part was a fact, especially after Blaine had opened up to him about it during their victory party. But that didn't explain the limp and the flinching.

Then Sam remembered the bruise he had seen on Blaine's back last week when they had been getting dressed for gym. After some prodding, his friend had said it was from a locker shove. Thinking about it, Sam concluded this meant Blaine was being bullied by someone, apparently for a while now. That must be it. Blaine was being bullied and probably too stubborn or too proud to say anything about it. Congratulating himself inwardly for his deductive skills, Sam started planning a protection detail for Blaine. Since he didn't want Blaine to know what he had planned, he had gathered the other members of the New Directions, except for Mr. Shue, in the choir room for a secret meeting.

"What's this about, Sam?" Sugar asked in a bored tone. "You had better make this quick, my manicurist is coming over at five."

"Don't worry, it won't take long." Sam looked at the rest of the group. But before he could start explaining the issue, Artie cut in.

"Wait, where's Blaine? Shouldn't he be here? He's our leader, after all."

"He doesn't know we're meeting," Sam answered, holding up his hand to quiet the many confused exclamations. "He's actually the reason we're here. I think someone is harassing him, or something."

"How do you know? Did he tell you?"

"No, he hasn't told me anything. But I've noticed some things over the past few weeks. I'm getting worried."

"What kind of things?" Marley asked softly.

"Well, um, for example, he was limping a few weeks back, when we were practising in the auditorium. And last week, he had a bruise on his back, which he said was from a locker shove."

"You're right, I saw that too," Joe chimed in from the back of the room. Sam nodded at him appreciatively.

"I suggest we keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't get hurt. I've been working on a protection detail. If we all stick to that, maybe his bully will get the hint and back off." He looked around and saw most of them were nodding in agreement. "We'll have to do it in secret, though. We can't let Blaine know what we're doing."

"Why not?" Jake questioned.

"Because he's the kind of person who thinks he can handle it all on his own. I don't think he'll accept our help if we offer to protect him."

"That's just plain stupid!" Unique said.

"I think it's more a matter of pride. But either way, he needs our help, even if he won't admit it. So, are you guys in?" He heard several "Yeah"s, after which he started explaining his plan.

Sam was getting frustrated. In the week they had been secretly following Blaine and walking him to his classes and to the lunch room, Blaine had never been alone while at school. Nothing had happened if you didn't count the slushie incident, which had led to a minor freak-out from Blaine. Still, things didn't seem to be improving. On Monday, Blaine showed up with finger marks on his arm, which Sam wouldn't have seen if he hadn't forgotten his gym bag in the locker room. Blaine was still there, sitting on the bench with one of his sleeves rolled up, inspecting his arm.

"What happened to your arm?"

Blaine jumped, looking in his direction with a panicked look on his face. He quickly rolled his sleeve down and started gathering his things.

"Nothing, I bumped it earlier. Guess I'm clumsier than I thought," he answered with a fake cheerfulness. Sam nodded, but didn't really believe him. He knew arguing wouldn't help, though, so he just watched until Blaine was ready to leave and followed him to the parking lot.

"See you tomorrow, Sam."

"Yeah, see you."

The next day, Sam found himself in front of Miss Pillsbury's office. He had been thinking about the Blaine-issue all night the day before, wondering whether he should tell someone or not. If someone was hurting Blaine, someone should do something about it. Sam had already tried to protect him, but apparently, that hadn't changed anything. So it was time to get a second opinion. Before he could change his mind, again, he opened the door of the office and waited awkwardly in the door opening.

"Hello, Sam. What brings you here?"

"I... um... I wanted to talk to you about something, but you can't tell anyone else."

"Okay. Why don't you close the door and sit down so we can talk more comfortably."

Sam nodded and did what he was told.

"So, Sam, what did you want to talk about?"

"Um, there's someone I know, but, um, I think he's in trouble."

"I'm guessing this friend of yours doesn't know you're here?"

"No."

"Okay, what kind of trouble is he in?"

"... You won't tell anyone, right? Isn't there some kind of confidentiality thing, or something?"

"Yes, there is. But, Sam, I have to warn you: depending on what kind of trouble your friend is in, I might not have another choice than to inform someone about the situation."

Sam bit his lip, unsure of whether to continue. In the end, he decided it was worth the risk and told her everything he had seen and what he thought about the situation, without saying who it was about. After he was finished, Miss Pillsbury stared at him for a while with wide eyes.

"Sam," she finally said, "this is pretty serious. However, I'm not sure what you want me to do if you won't tell me who your friend is."

"I can't, Miss Pillsbury. He'll hate me if he finds out I came to talk to you. He won't even admit to me that something is wrong. I was hoping you could just give me some advice or tell me if there's something else I can do."

"I don't think you can do anything more than what you've already been doing. Maybe you can suggest to him to come and talk to me."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Thank you, Miss Pillsbury." He stood up and reached for the door.

"Sam, wait." He turned around and waited for her to continue. "If this gets any worse, I really want you to tell me. I can't help if I don't know who this person is, but I don't want them to get hurt. And I know you don't want that either."

Sam looked at her contemplatively and finally nodded before leaving the office.

As expected, talking to Blaine didn't go that well. Halfway through their conversation, Sam panicked and started making somewhat misplaced Star Wars references, earning him some strange looks from his friend. Meanwhile, Blaine kept insisting that he was fine, he wasn't being bullied and he didn't need any help.

"Are you sure? Is this a pride thing? 'Cause I think it's pretty stupid not to accept help because of pride. You know the others won't think any less of you if you admit that you're being bullied. We've all been there."

"It has nothing to do with pride, Sam. Like I said, there's nothing to admit. I'm not being bullied."

"Bullshit. I know someone is bothering you, even though I'm not sure who it is. Don't think I haven't seen your limp a few weeks back. And what about that bruise on your back? You said yourself that someone had shoved you into a locker."

"Sam, just drop it, please."

"And then there's the marks I saw on your arm yesterday. You can't tell me you just bumped your arm. I can recognise finger marks when I see them, you know –"

"I said drop it, Sam!" Blaine suddenly snapped. Then, when he saw Sam's shocked expression, he softened his tone. "I told you, I'm fine, okay?"

Sam nodded, but he was sure Blaine could tell he didn't believe him. Blaine sighed audibly.

"I should get to class."

Things had gotten worse. Things had definitely gotten worse. That was all Sam could think of as he watched Blaine during Glee a week after he had confronted him. The boy looked way too pale and he seemed to be having trouble keeping up. He also didn't manage to hide the fact that he was in pain as well as usual. He should have told Miss Pillsbury it was about Blaine, Sam thought as he saw Blaine stumble once again.

Just as he was approaching the other boy to ask if he was okay, Blaine started swaying and closed his eyes tight, even more pale than he had been before.

"Blaine?"

Blaine opened his eyes, looking in Sam's direction with a panicked look in his eyes.

"Sam... I–"

Before he could finish his sentence, he suddenly fell forward as his knees gave out, his eyes rolling backwards before they shut once again. Sam caught him in time and gently laid him on the floor.

"Blaine?"

All of a sudden, there was flurry of activity around him as the others were shocked into movement by the panic in his voice as he called Blaine's name over and over again in an attempt to wake him. Someone handed him a sweater, which he rolled up and laid under the unconscious boy's head.

"What happened?"

"Is he okay?"

"Should we call an ambulance?"

"I'll call my daddy, maybe he'll send our private doctor."

Everyone was talking at the same time, until Mr. Shue shut them all up at once.

"Everyone calm down! Put that phone away, Tina, I'm sure an ambulance won't be necessary. Sugar, that goes for you too. Now I want you all to stand back and give us some room." He knelt on the other side from Blaine and started tapping his face lightly, calling his name.

"Blaine, can you hear me? Blaine?"

After a while, Blaine opened his eyes, squinting his eyes against the bright light from the choir room.

"What...?"

Sam sighed in relief. Blaine seemed a bit disoriented, but at least he was awake. As he became more focused, he tried to get up, but Sam and Mr. Shue held him down.

"Take it easy, Blaine. I don't think it's a good idea to get up too quickly."

"What happened?" Blaine asked, trying to get up again.

"You passed out."

At last, Mr. Shue let go of his shoulder and helped Blaine to an upright position as it became clear Blaine wasn't going to stay down. Sam followed his example and kept his hand on Blaine's back to keep him from falling backwards again. As he noticed that Blaine was slightly leaning into the touch, he proceeded to wrap his arm around the boy's shoulder, supporting him.

"Blaine, I think you should go see the nurse. Sam, could you go with him?"

"No," Blaine interrupted. "I don't need to go to the nurse."

"Blaine, you just fainted."

"I know, but..." He hesitated, as if he was trying to come up with a decent explanation. "I think I'm just coming down with something. I've been feeling like crap all day. I'll be fine if I just go home, get some rest."

Mr. Shue still looked a bit suspicious, but he accepted Blaine's explanation. Sam, however, was sure Blaine was lying at least partly. On top of the fact that he was still too pale, Blaine was also panting slightly, as if it took considerable effort to breathe. Sam helped him to his feet and steadied him when he flinched and swayed slightly. Both Mr. Shue and Sam tried again to get Blaine to go to the nurse, but the boy wouldn't budge.

"Dude, at least let me drive you home. You're in no shape to drive and you know it."

In the end, Blaine had to admit Sam was right and agreed to let his friend drive him home.

The next day, Blaine was absent. Sam remembered his promise to Miss Pillsbury and in his opinion, things had gotten bad enough. For the second time in two weeks, he knocked on her door and let himself in.

"It's Blaine," Sam exclaimed before Miss Pillsbury could say anything. Her eyes widened.

"Blaine?"

"Yes, he's the one who is in trouble and now it's gotten worse and I don't know how to help him anymore and–"

"Sam, calm down. Why don't you sit down. Okay, what happened to make you come back?"

"He fainted during Glee yesterday. It looked like he was in pain and then he suddenly fainted and now he's absent."

"Maybe he's just coming down with the flu or something. Maybe that's why he's not at school today."

"Did his parents call him in sick?" Sam retorted. Miss Pillsbury stayed silent, confirming his suspicion. "See, I haven't heard anything of him and neither have any of the others. If he had been sick, he would've let at least one of us know or his parents should've called him in sick. Add all of this to what I've told you last week and the only conclusion is that something isn't right. I really think someone should check up on him. I would do it myself, but I promised I would come to you first. And I'm not sure Brittany will remember to go to class if I don't go with her."

As she watched Sam leave her office a few minutes later, Emma thought about everything he had told her and came to the conclusion that Sam might be right. First, she went to the secretary and asked her if Blaine had been called in sick. When she learned that hadn't happened, she went to Will's office. She knew what Sam had told her was confidential, but she couldn't just leave to check up on Blaine herself, so she went for the next best thing. As she explained the situation to her fiancé, she saw Will's expression morph into one of shock.

"I think Sam is right, Will. Someone should go and see if Blaine's alright. Sam said he didn't know who was harassing Blaine, but what if it wasn't someone at school?"

"You think...?"

"I don't know what to think and it's not like I have any proof whatsoever, but either way, Blaine's not fine. And it's time someone did something about it."

Will was surprised by her vehement tone. He nodded his agreement.

"You're right. I don't have any classes right now. If I go now, I might be able to make it back in time."

As Will drove, he thought the matter through thoroughly and suddenly found himself cursing himself for not noticing before that there was something wrong with Blaine. If he had paid more attention to the boy, he probably would have seen the signs, but just like with Kurt two years ago, he had been oblivious. He told himself this time would be different. He would do something about it before the situation could get out of hand. He would talk to Blaine and help him through whatever was happening to him.

Following the instructions of the GPS, he turned into a street and quickly found Blaine's house. As he parked, he noticed Blaine's car sitting in the driveway next to a car he didn't recognise. Will figured it probably belonged to one of Blaine's parents. He walked up to the front door and rang the bell, repeating the action after a few minutes. Finally, he heard some noise from inside. As the door opened, the smell of what he thought was alcohol assaulted his nostrils. He looked up to see Blaine standing in the door opening. The boy looked nothing like the Blaine he was used to seeing. It wasn't because of his clothes, which were a far cry from what he usually wore at school, but because of how pale he was and because of the panicked expression on his face, as if Will's presence frightened him.

"Hey Blaine," Will said, trying to keep his tone light. Standing as close to the boy as he could without making it look suspicious, Will confirmed the smell wasn't coming from Blaine, for which he was relieved.

"Emma told me you were absent today, so I thought I'd come by and check up on you. Especially after what happened during rehearsal yesterday."

Before he could go on and ask Blaine if he was okay, a harsh voice from inside the house interrupted him.

"Who is it?"

Blaine's eyes went even more wide than they had been before as he hastily assured the voice it was no one important. A moment later, a man appeared around the corner, staggering slightly and holding his hand against the wall to keep his balance. He must be Blaine's father, considering how much the two looked alike. Blaine seemed to shrink back when his father reached the door and pierced Will with a stern look.

"Who are you?"

Will collected himself and as he extended his hand towards Blaine's father, he could clearly discern the smell of alcohol coming from him.

"Hi, I'm Blaine's teacher."

"So?"

"...So, um, I was asked to come check up on him since he didn't show up at school this morning and no one had called him in sick..." Will didn't know what else to say. Blaine was still standing in the door opening, slightly to the side, looking scared. Will saw him shrink even more when Blaine's father turned sharply to his son.

"Blaine, go back inside. I'll sort this out." Blaine opened his mouth to protest, but closed it immediately as he saw the look on his father's face. However, he didn't move away from the door, but looked at Will pleadingly instead.

"Blaine, now."

Will knew on instinct he shouldn't let Blaine go inside.

"Blaine, maybe it's best if you come with me." Blaine seemed torn, unable to decide whether to obey his father or to go with Will. Before he could make his decision, Blaine's father suddenly reached out and grabbed his arm, shoving him back inside roughly. Blaine stumbled and looked back at Will.

"Inside. Now." As Blaine disappeared around the corner, casting a last look at his teacher, Blaine's father turned back to Will.

"And you, I want you to leave. Blaine's ill. He'll go back to school when he's better. So I suggest you go now before I have you arrested for trespassing."

Before Will could answer or try to stop him, Blaine's father threw the door closed, leaving Will standing in shock on the threshold. He didn't want to leave Blaine, but he also knew they wouldn't open the door for him again. As he stood contemplating his options, he suddenly heard shouts from the house. His heart sank into his stomach as he heard the thundering voice of Blaine's father.

"What have you told him?"

Will heard Blaine answer him, his voice higher than usual from fear. He couldn't make out what he said, but Mr. Anderson didn't seem happy with the answer.

"Then why was he here? You told him, didn't you."

"Dad, please, I didn't tell anyone anything."

The feeling in his stomach was getting worse as he heard Blaine's pleading voice getting louder as he tried to reason with his father. Will decided he couldn't let this go on and pulled out his cell phone. While he was calling the police, the shouts inside the house only got louder, until they were suddenly interrupted by a loud crash. While he was waiting for the police to arrive, which seemed to take ages, Will realised he couldn't hear Blaine anymore. At last, a police car parked in front on the house with flashing lights. Will ran to them and started talking rapidly before they had the chance to properly get out of the car.

"Please, you have to help him. I think his father is hurting him. I heard them shouting and then there was a crash and–"

"Sir, We'll take care of it. I suggest you stay here until we've cleared this up."

Will followed the police officers to the front door but stood back as one of them shot him a warning look.

"Mr. Anderson," the other one called while he knocked on the door loudly. "Mr. Anderson, this is the police. We suggest you open the door or we will be forced to come in of our own accord."

It seemed neither of the men inside the house had heard the officer since the noises didn't stop. The police officers nodded at each other. One of them pulled out his gun and motioned Will to stand back, while the other started picking the lock. A few seconds later, the door was open and they barged in. As they rounded the corner Blaine had disappeared behind, they immediately started shouting orders.

"Step away from him! I said, step away! Get on the ground, hands on your head."

Will stepped inside cautiously, wanting to see whether Blaine was alright. He stopped and took in the situation before him. One of the officers had just finished handcuffing Blaine's father, who was kneeling in the middle of the room with his hands behind his back, while the other officer was talking in his radio. To his left, a coffee table was lying on its side. Everything that had been on it was spread out on the floor around the table. Will looked around and finally spotted Blaine, sitting in a corner with his arms tightly around himself, rocking back and forth. The officer who was talking in his radio nodded at him, giving him silent permission to go to Blaine. As he approached the boy, he noticed Blaine's eyes were glazed over and fixed on the ground before him.

"Blaine?" He crouched in front of the boy. "Blaine? It's me, Mr. Shue."

Blaine didn't look up, but his rocking seemed to slow down a bit. Taking a chance, Will laid his hand on Blaine's knee. As he had half-expected, Blaine jerked back violently. He looked up at Will, his eyes wide with panic and breathing hard.

"It's okay, Blaine," Will tried to calm him. "It's just me. You're safe now."

Slowly, the panic subsided. As recognition took over, Blaine relaxed slightly. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, Blaine started leaning forward towards Will, who caught on quickly and gathered the now trembling boy in his arms.

Thank you for reading. Please leave a review and help me become a better writer.