*Warning! Tense scene with some language!**

BLAIR POV

Wesley was uncharacteristically quiet for the drive. I reached over and squeezed his hand which was lazily rested on the shift. "Why are you so nervous?" I asked him. 

"You know it's tense. I've told you that already." He said stiffly. "Sorry." Wes apologized a moment later. 

"It's okay Wes,' I said gently, massaging his hand slowly. 

After about a half hour of driving Wesley turned into a neighborhood and drove slowly as there were tons of kids out and about playing. 

The neighborhood was very homey and pretty, manicured lawns, trees, and people everywhere. He drove halfway down the street before pulling into a driveway. The house was a pale yellow color and was about two stories. The lawn was slightly overgrown, but overall the house was nice. Wesley parked the car but stayed seated, his eyes zoned out. 

"Wes? Wes?" I called to him, waving my hand in front of his face. 

He turned to me slowly. "Okay, let's get this over with." 

I slid out of the car, grabbing the Christmas floral arrangement I bought. "I can't believe you brought that." He muttered. 

"Well I am a good guest." I defended myself. Wesley half smiled, taking my tiny hand in his large paw of a hand. 

I noticed his hand was sweaty, clammy almost. We walked slowly to the door, and before he knocked, Wesley stopped dead. "Are you sure about this? Do we have to do this?" He asked. 

I shot him a look, "Yes, you're gonna regret it if you don't." I told him. 

Wesley sighed, "You're right." He admitted, knocking on  the door tentatively. 

He held my hand so tight that I thought my hands were going to break. I looked up at him, his face was pale, and he was chewing on his lip nervously. What felt like hours later, the front door finally swung open. In front of us was a woman, who I assumed to be Wesley's mother. She has dark brown hair like his, and it was straight and shoulder length. Her eyes too were the same chocolate color as his, but that's where the similarities stopped. 

Though the same color, her eyes held a darkness to them, and were sunken in by purple bags. Wrinkles covered her forehead, and her skin was pale, with a small frown that seemed permanent was plastered on. "Wesley?" She whispered incredulously. 

"Hi Mom." Wesley replied politely. 

"What-what are you doing here?" She asked, surprise evident in her voice. 

"Happy holidays Mom." Wesley said, avoiding her question.

----

Mrs. Foster stepped aside and let us in. When we stepped inside the house, I felt as if I had stepped into a different world. The inside was dimly lit and smelt of dirty laundry. Clothes, furniture, and random items were strewn across the house in random fashion. 

Crooked picture frames hung on the walls and I could see pictures of a young Wesley, a man who I thought was his father, Wesley's mom, and a younger boy I didn't recognize. The photos with Mrs. Foster in them looked like from a long time ago. She looked happier, livelier, and younger, with a huge smile etched on her face in all of the photos. However Wesley just looked like a teenage so I knew the pictures couldn't be more than a few years ago. 

"I remember the day this was taken," Wesley said quietly, breaking me out of my thoughts. He pointed a picture of him with his parents and the young boy, standing on the beach. 'that was the summer before-' Wesley was interrupted by a gruff voice, "What the hell are you doing here?". 

I turned around, as did Wesley, to find a large man staring at Wesley. He was tall, with grey hair that was slightly shaggy. He had wrinkles and a frown on his face, that matched Mrs. Foster's. He was dressed in a stained white shirt and grey sweatpants. "Hello Father." Wesley greeted the man tightly. I grabbed his hand in mine and wrapped my other arm around his large arm, leaning into him for support. 

"Why are you here?" Mr. Foster asked again, his speech slightly slurred, his breath reeking of alcohol. 

"For the holidays. Why else?" Wesley snipped in response. 

Mrs. Foster's eyes darted back and forth between the two men. "Okay, let's move this into the living room." She ushered the four of us, trying to diffuse some of the tension. 

-------

We sat in silence, Wesley and Mr. Foster staring at each other, Mrs. Foster kept looking anxiously between the two, and me with my eyes glued to the floor. 

"So was the cafeteria closed for the break, or did you use all your meal points?" Mr. Foster started aggressively. 

"Bill." Mrs. Foster warned her husband. 

"No, Patty. It's time for this." He snapped back, silencing her. 

"Fine go ahead Dad. What have I done wrong. I can tell you now that you aren't exactly a winner." Wesley laughed harshly. I tightened my fingers around my boyfriends arm, and I could feel his arm tensing. 

"Why are you here Wesley? You certainly don't just pop home anymore to spend time with your parents." Mr. Foster said. 

Wesley's eyes were dark and hard, "Well unlike you, my girlfriend thinks that in special times, families should stick together." Wesley snapped. I gulped, knowing this was not going to be good.

"Stick together! I have always stuck with this family! It's you who fled and never came back!" Mr. Foster yelled back. 

Wesley shot up on his feet, "The only thing you stick to is the bar and alcohol!" Wesley barked back. 

Mr. Foster also shot up, his face red with fury. "Who the hell do you think you are?" 

"I think I was the only one there for Gordon through his whole time being sick! I think I was the one who comforted Gordon and Mom when they were suffering. And I think I was the one who planned Gordon's whole goddamn funeral because you were too busy drinking the whole fucking bar dry! You didn't even fucking show up to one of your own son's funerals you piece of shit." Wesley snarled, his face completely in rage. 

Mr. Foster's fist came flying up to Wesley's, sending both Wesley, and me, flying backwards. "Blair, are you okay baby?" Wesley asked, his tone soft. I was fine, just a bit shaken. 

I nodded, "Are you okay?" I asked, touching his cheek which was red. He didn't answer, but instead helped me up, and turned back to his dad. 

"Don't you dare hurt my girlfriend because you fucked up. It's not her fault you're a fucking failure." Wesley bit at his dad. "Gordon is almost lucky. He never has to see you again.' Wesley seethed. He turned to me, "Let's go. Sorry Mom." He called as he pulled me towards the door. 

"Wesley!" I heard both his parents cry out, his father and mother's voice both toned differently. 

Wesley ignored both voices, and everything was quiet. The only sound I heard was the sound of the pot that held the flowers I brought being smashed against the floor.