She’s waiting for them in a chair outside the principal’s office along with one of the teachers, arms crossed over her chest, glaring at the floor, and looking so much like Blaine that it’s scary. The teacher, Mrs. Williams, is a severe silver-haired woman who always looks like she’s sucking on a lemon, and Kurt doesn’t understand why she chose to be around children constantly when she obviously hates them. Of course, it would be Mrs. Williams that catches Amelia getting into trouble, not young and perky Ms. James. Amelia has nothing but good to say about her.

Amelia’s bottom lip wobbles when she looks up and sees her parents, and she hugs her knees up to her chest and hides her face in her arms.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” Kurt asks gently, kneeling in front of her. She shakes her head and refuses to look up, and Kurt glances to Mrs. Williams for help while Blaine tries to convince Amelia to get up and gather her things. It’s a losing battle. “What did she do?”

“Amelia hit another student. Twice. We had to physically restrain them.”

“Amelia!” Kurt turns back to her, shocked at what he’s hearing. It’s something he’s drilled into her head from as early as she could understand - it’s never okay to hurt someone. And from the look on Mrs. Williams’ face, the incident was serious. “Amelia, you know that isn’t okay!”

“Why on earth would you do that?” Blaine asks, looking as surprised as Kurt is. Amelia finally lifts her head, but still keeps her lips firmly sealed. “I am so sorry, Mrs. Williams, I’m sure it won’t happen again.”

“I certainly hope not.”

“Do you know the full story, ma’am?” Kurt asks.

“I’m afraid not. The boy who she punched, last I saw, hasn’t stopped crying long enough to tell me his side.” She doesn’t meet their eyes when she says it, and something about that strikes Kurt as odd, but he’ll ponder it later.

“God. Again, we’re so sorry.”

Finally, Amelia speaks up. “He deserved it,” she mutters.

“Amelia Elizabeth Hummel!” Kurt scolds.

“But he did!”

“That’s enough.” He grabs her hand and tugs her up out of the chair, and she goes without a fuss, slinging her little purple backpack over her shoulder and following them. “I am very upset with you, and we don’t want to hear a word until we get home, understand?”

She keeps that promise, uncharacteristically quiet the whole silent drive home, but by the time they park outside the apartment building, she looks on the verge of tears. When they get home, she whispers, “Should I go to the time-out corner, Daddy?”

“Not yet.” Kurt sighs, glancing at Blaine for a moment before he leads her over to the couch and sits her down. “First we need to talk about what happened.”

She sniffles. “Okay.” She bows her head as Kurt and Blaine sit on either side of her.

“Why don’t you tell us everything that happened?” Blaine asks gently. “From the beginning.”

“Well, Mrs. Williams was talking about families and how everybody’s family is different, like some people have two mommies or a daddy and a mommy or just a mommy. So she told us to talk about our families. And I said I have a daddy and a papa, and my friend Max has two mommies! And then George Turner started making fun of us.” She makes a face, scrunching her nose up in distaste.

Blaine and Kurt glance up at each other, the worry in Blaine’s eyes making it obvious that they’re thinking the same thing. Kurt had wondered if she would have to face bullying someday, too, but he hadn’t expected it to happen so young… but then, hadn’t it started early for him, too? He’d always been punished for being different, even from that age. But he never wants the same for her. “What did he say, Amelia?”

She bites her lip. “I have to say a bad word to tell you.”

“It’s okay, you won’t get in trouble for it.”

“’Kay.” Amelia takes a deep breath. “George said that - that my daddies are fags. That’s a bad word for liking boys, right?”

Kurt closes his eyes. Obviously the teacher had been present - had she just turned a blind eye to all of this? Not that Kurt isn’t used to that, all of his teachers at McKinley had operated on a policy of ‘if we didn’t see it, it didn’t happen’, but he’d expected more from these people. Even in New York, homophobia still exists, but the circle Kurt operates in is so isolated from that that he forgets sometimes. He’s going to have a serious talk with the school soon... no matter what Amelia turns out to be, gay or straight, he’s not going to tolerate a homophobic teacher. He won’t let her go through what he did.

�“Yes, it is, and you know to never say that word, right?”

“Right. And then Max said that it’s okay bad for boys to like boys or for girls to like girls. And then George said that it is bad because his daddy said so. And I told him that he’s stupid and he said I’m stupid and Max and me are going to hell and Max started crying and George said he was a fag too ‘cause he was crying, so I punched him ‘cause I was so mad.” She’s out of breath by the time she finishes, and she glances back and forth between her fathers, eyes wide and fearful. “I didn’t mean to make him cry, though. I’m really really really really sorry, I was just so super mad…”

“We know, honey,” Blaine says, stroking a lock of her hair. “But it’s still not okay, no matter how mad you get.”

“George is so stupid.” Her chin wobbles with held back tears.

“No, he just doesn’t know better,” Kurt corrects. “His mommy or daddy told him all those wrong things, so he thinks they’re true. Smart people like you need to teach him better. But we have to use our words, not out fists, remember?” He remembers the rest of what the teacher had told them, and hesitates a moment before saying, “Mrs. Williams said you hit George twice.”

Amelia stares down at her feet, and mumbles, “Uh-huh.”

“Why? Did he keep picking on you?”

“He said…” she pauses to sniffle before continuing. “After we got out of time-out we kept talking about families and stuff, and I said that my daddy and papa are divorced and live in different houses, so I have two houses and two bedrooms and two everything else. And George said that if you’re divorced that means you don’t love each other anymore.”

Kurt feels his breath hitch, his mouth falling open as if to speak but no sound comes out. He can’t look at Blaine, can’t, terrified of what he would see, terrified of what he might say if they make eye contact. Blaine stays silent, too.

“I know he was just being stupid and lying,” Amelia continues. “I mean, of course you guys still love each other, anyone can see that. But it still made me super mad.”

Luckily, Kurt doesn’t have to think about what he can say to that, because Blaine is sucking in a deep breath and then scooting off the couch, crouching on the floor so that he’s looking straight into Amelia’s eyes when he speaks. “I know you were mad. Everyone gets mad sometimes. I get mad a lot. It makes you want to just yell and be mean to everyone, doesn’t it? Especially when people say mean things to you. I know how that feels.” He looks over at Kurt, now, meeting his eyes and he’s like a magnet, drawing Kurt in. He holds Kurt’s gaze as he continues speaking to Amelia, soft and gentle, and Kurt holds his breath in as he watches the way Blaine’s soft lips form the words. �“All you want to do is hurt them too, and make them feel as bad as you do. But in the end, all it does is make you feel even worse than before.”

And all at once, Kurt knows that he isn’t talking about Amelia and her bully. Not really.� The way he looks at Kurt like he’s begging him to understand what he’s saying… oh. It’s an apology. Twisted and indirect but something like an apology nonetheless or maybe more like an acknowledgement. Admitting that what he did was wrong. Either way, it makes Kurt want to cry, or laugh or run away or anything but instead he sits there, frozen in shock, as Blaine hides an apology in a lecture to their daughter.

Why is this so hard? Kurt wants to scream. Why is it so difficult for you to just say sorry, why can’t I just get the fuck over it already…?

Amelia speaks up again, drawing Blaine’s eyes away from Kurt and finally allowing him to breathe again. “Yeah. I feel bad.” she mumbles.

“Why?”

“’Cause… it’s not okay to hit?” She says it more like a question than an answer.

“Yep. Never ever. Because that’s being a bully. Whether you’re hurting someone with your hands or your words, it’s still bullying, and no daughter of mine is going to be a bully, understand? Everyone makes mistakes, but that doesn’t mean you can get away with it.”

He talks to her like she’s a grown-up, and she responds to that better than if he babied her.� “I’m really sorry,” Amelia repeats.

“Well, here’s what you can do to make it better,” Kurt says, suddenly struck with an idea, a way he can actually contribute instead of feeling like the bad parent, the one who doles out punishments while Blaine sits and patiently talks through everything with her. She turns to look at him. “You should say sorry to George when you see him tomorrow.”

“But I don’t want to! He was mean to me first!”

“It doesn’t matter. Say sorry, and then talk to him about why he hurt your feelings. Teach him that what he said was wrong.” Since obviously the teacher isn’t going to do anything about it, he adds to himself, more than a little bitter about it.

“But what he doesn’t listen?”����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������

Kurt shrugs. That, he doesn’t have a solution to. “Then you know that you did all you could and that you did the right thing. That’s all you can do, and it makes you better than him.” He doesn’t miss the little smile that quirks at Blaine’s lips, or the look in his eyes, almost like pride, and Kurt feels his cheeks flush a little.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s okay, I’ll help you.” Blaine sits up on his knees and kisses her cheek. “We can practice what you want to say together, if you want.”

“Sure!” Amelia bounces up and down in her seat. “Thanks, Papa!”

“See, you’re too sweet to really be a bully. I know you won’t do it again. Right?”

“I pinky-promise.” Blaine lifts his little finger, expression entirely serious, and Amelia wraps her pinky around his to seal the deal. “Can I have time-out in my room?”

Blaine glances to Kurt, who shrugs. “Yeah, okay. We’ll come get you when it’s suppertime.” She jumps up and is gone before they can say anything else, all too eager to take her punishment - maybe sending her to where all her toys are was a bad idea, but it’s too late now, so Kurt decides to forget it. And then they’re alone, with Blaine still sitting on the floor in front of the couch, sneaking little glances up at him. And Kurt, as seems to be the norm lately, can’t keep from staring.

Blaine looks better lately, at least on the outside, the bags and dark circles around his eyes disappearing, his eyes less haunted and his cheeks less gaunt. Sometimes he even bothers to do his hair and shave. It’s the wonder of sleeping through the night after two years of hell. Blaine ends up in Kurt’s bed more often than not, slipping between the sheets as Kurt starts to doze, and they both drift off easier with the sound of another’s breathing next to them. Waking up to the familiar feeling of Blaine crowding his personal space in the morning is one of the most emotionally confusing things he’s ever felt, warm affection mingling with bitterness and regret - and yes, anger, still bubbling below the surface no matter how much he wishes it would stop. And Blaine always stays through the night, always - except when they fuck.

It’s never planned - hands start to wander, the need for a warm body against his gets to be too strong, and now that they’ve started this they won’t stop, muffling their moans and whimpers into the other’s skin. Blaine never stays, after that. They’ll lie there for a while, not talking or kissing or cuddling or anything meaningful, like they’re just another one-night stand, and every time, Kurt wonders how much longer Blaine will put up with not talking about it. He’ll lay there until Kurt is nearly asleep, and then he’ll slip out of the bed and retreat to his own room after the shower runs for a few minutes, leaving Kurt’s bed huge and empty and cold.

Kurt wonders if he should feel used, or guilty for using Blaine if that’s what’s happening (his feelings are so muddled that he doesn’t even know anymore) but he just… doesn’t. He doesn’t feel much of anything afterwards, really, no unfamiliar emotions - just the need to be close, though he’s afraid of closing the gap and pulling Blaine into his arms. Every single time, he’s baffled by how he manages to shove all his feelings aside, save for a twinge of guilt when he sees Blaine the next morning, looking like he hasn’t slept a wink. But that’s hardly Kurt’s fault. He never tells Blaine to leave, he just… doesn’t ask him to stay, either, even when he wants to.

There must be some strange expression on Kurt’s face, because Blaine tilts his head and murmurs, “What is it?”

There are so many things Kurt could bring up, but instead of anything important, any of the multitudes of things Kurt could and should and has to say, he blurts out, “You’re a really good dad.”

Blaine’s whole face turns red, and he stares down at the gray carpet. “Nah.”

“Yes you are. You… you understand her. You know how to talk to her. This is the first time we’ve really had to give her a talk, and I had no idea what to say. And you have a whole fucking speech.”

The expression on Blaine’s face turns wary. “You sound mad.”

“No, no, I just - I’m glad. That she has you.” It’s not what he means to say, not at all, but he’s mostly babbling anyway. “I don’t know how to talk to her. You’d think that with a dad like mine I’d have picked up a few skills, but…” He sighs and slumps back. “I’m not a good father.”

“Kurt, stop it.” He startles when he looks back at Blaine, at the way Blaine almost looks angry. “Don’t talk like that. At least you’re not drunk half the time like I was, at least you’re sane.”

“But -“

“Spend time with her. Really get to know her, that’s the only way to be better. She’s a person, just like anyone else, you know? And you don’t know everything about her just because she’s your kid. I know you love her, but you have to make an effort to know her too.” Blaine huffs out a short laugh and rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand. “I didn’t mean to rant.”

“No, no. I get it.” Not that it doesn’t sting a little, but he does understand, enough to shove away the hurt. Blaine props his chin on his hand and his elbow on the couch cushion at he stares up at Kurt, expression unreadable. “I wouldn’t have kept her away from you, you know. Back… then.”

Blaine swallows, biting his lip and glancing away. “I know,” he murmurs. “I know that, now. I knew that then, too, I think, I was just... so scared of losing her.” Kurt nods, because he understands that too, the fear. It was one of the scariest times of his life to date. He had been gifted with this miracle of a child and he couldn’t even keep her close and safe.

“I remember, one of the first times I got to see her, after you… took her.” Kurt sucks in a ragged breath. Remembering that day still hurts too much. “She hardly even knew me, she just kept asking for her papa. Couldn’t even have fun together because I was so upset… It was worse than not seeing her at all. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this, but… yeah.”

“I was such an idiot. I should have let you keep her from the beginning.”

“She was all you had left.”

“I was selfish.”

There’s no denying it, so Kurt just nods. “Never again, though. She needs both of us. Whatever we work out when all this is over…“ he tries his hardest to ignore how his stomach clenches at the thought of Blaine leaving. “It’ll be fair. We don’t get to use her against each other again, it’s not right and we should never have stooped that low. We have no room to be selfish when it comes to her.”

“It’ll be different,” Blaine agrees. “I’ll be all better by then; I’ll be able to take care of her the way she deserves. No more letting my issues getting in the way.”

It’s the first time Kurt has heard him talk about the future, even in vague terms. Most of the time, it’s as if Blaine is living day-to-day, not bothering to wonder or care if he’ll live another day. But this… this is looking forward to when he’s better. When, not if anymore, and Kurt is struck by how far he’s come, even if it’s still slow going. Not long ago, Blaine couldn’t admit that something was wrong, and after that, he hadn’t believed he could heal at all. Now it’s an inevitability, perhaps far in the future but a definite thing.

Kurt wonders just how much longer Blaine is going to need him.

“Not bad for a first family meeting, was it?” Blaine says with an attempt at a smile, and Kurt grins right back. Because they are still a family, in some bizarre way - dysfunctional, without a doubt, but they’re slowly figuring out how to make it work again. For the first time in years, Kurt thinks that maybe he does have a place in Blaine and Amelia’s little unit after all.

“Not bad at all,” Kurt agrees.