“Thank you so much for coming,” Kurt says, a little out of breath as he opens the door and steps aside. He had been a whirlwind cleaning machine just moments ago, clearing away the catastrophe that was trying to get Amelia to eat her breakfast before school (always a losing battle), and is more than a little embarrassed to answer the door still in his casual working-at-home clothes. At least he had a chance to do his hair.

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all.” She steps inside and looks around the kitchen and living room - not judging, just curious.

The therapist is younger than he expected, coming to about his height in her sensible heels. She is blonde with a cute bob cut that suits her round face, a tiny button nose and wide brown eyes, and she and reminds him, just a little, of Quinn (or the Quinn he knew in highschool; she had vanished soon after graduation, and he isn’t sure if any of his old friends have seen her since.) She smiles and sticks out her hand for Kurt to shake. “You must be Mr. Hummel?” He nods, thankful that someone left off the ‘-Anderson’ for once. She introduces herself as Naomi McKay, though of course he already knows who she is.

“I know it’s probably a hassle to make house calls,” he says apologetically, leading her into the living room and scooping up toys that he’d missed as he goes. “But I know for a fact that Blaine would never go to an appointment unless forced to.”

She waves him off. “Really, don’t worry about that. It’s my job.”

“Thank you,” he says again. “Um, I’m afraid Blaine hasn’t surfaced yet…” He had told Blaine to be awake and dressed by nine o’clock, which Blaine had obviously ignored, but hadn’t mentioned that it was for an appointment.

�“That’s okay! I actually was wondering if I could talk to you first,” Naomi says, sitting down in a chair that Kurt gestures to and smoothing out her plain charcoal gray skirt that really doesn’t suit her petite form. Kurt blinks and sits down, too, sinking into the over-soft couch. “Patients don’t open up easily, especially not during the first meeting - most especially not in a situation where someone else has to call a shrink for them - so it would be nice to get a little background info on Blaine. You don’t have to answer anything you don’t feel comfortable with, of course,” she assures him.

“I already told you his symptoms over the phone,” Kurt says cautiously, though he doesn’t like that work, symptom. It makes it sound like Blaine has the flu or something else easily cured. �

“Yes, I know - insomnia, loss of appetite, everything you described to me is textbook depression. But that doesn’t necessarily say anything about the patient himself.”

�Kurt nods slowly. “I suppose that would be fine.” He can’t control his unease, though - he’s not used to talking about Blaine with anyone, especially strangers. He even changes the subject when Rachel brings it up. Where to even begin?

Naomi pulls a notepad and pen out of her little black briefcase, poised to take notes. “How long have you known each other?”

“Since I was seventeen. We were highschool sweethearts,” he answers. A little smile quirks at the edge of Naomi’s lips.

“Did he display signs of depression even then?”

Kurt starts to shake his head, but realizes that he doesn’t know. He had never thought about it then. He was just… Blaine. Bouncy, puppy-like, always positive Blaine, and yeah, he had issues like everyone did, and the tears that sprung to his eyes when Kurt said that he was proud of him had been baffling, but Kurt didn’t connect it to depression. Now he wonders if he should have, the thought making his insides clench up with guilt.

“No,” he finally says. “Not that I’m aware of, anyway. I mean, if he ever was depressed before recently it wasn’t diagnosed.”

Naomi nods and scribbles something down. “And you’ve been together ever since?”

Kurt shrugs. There was a brief breakup, when Blaine had stayed in Ohio while Kurt went to New York, but that was it, until the divorce. “And married for about six years. Until we split up two years ago.”

Another nod and a sympathetic look that makes Kurt irrationally irritated. “It’s good of you to take him in like this, most people wouldn’t.”

“What else could I have done? He doesn’t have anyone else.”

“So, no family?”

“No.” Kurt swallows. “No, he - when he told his parents that we were getting married, they… they disowned him.” It still hurts to think about, still makes him ache to think about the look on Blaine’s face when he found out� - sometimes he still can’t believe it even happened, because god, who could do that? What parent could tell their child that he was no longer theirs, just because of whom he loved? He can’t even imagine treating Amelia that way, no matter what she does in life; it literally makes him sick to his stomach. “Hasn’t heard from them since.”

Naomi doesn’t show her feelings about this if she has any at all; Kurt supposes that she must be desensitized to it, accustomed to hearing horrible things every day. Her brow furrows and she nods, jotting something down on her notepad. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“And that’s, well, when the drinking started.” Kurt waves his hand, as if trying to pretend that this isn’t a big deal even though it is. Naomi takes a note. “I mean, not that he never drank, but I wouldn’t say he was at all addicted before that. It wasn’t even bad at first, I mean - it didn’t seem like a big deal, that he was drinking more often. But it kept getting worse, and I didn’t know what to do. I kind of thought that things would change after we had our daughter, Amelia, but… obviously not.”

“Can I ask why you decided to separate?”

Any warmth he had felt toward her vanishes. “No, you may not,” he says, a little more coldly than necessary. Rachel and his immediate family know what happened, but that’s all (assuming, of course, that Blaine doesn’t talk about it, but he hasn’t done so with Kurt.) He’s content, determined in fact, to keep it that way.

It’s not that he’s ashamed, exactly; he just… doesn’t know what to think, so he prefers not to try. He’s kept himself too busy to dwell on that for the past two years, despite Rachel’s insistence that it’s unhealthy to keep something like that locked inside.

He’s not an idiot. He’s knows that he didn’t deserve to be hit, that it wasn’t anyone’s fault but Blaine’s - so he doesn’t know why his family treats him like some fragile thing when the subject is brought up. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t talk about it.

Naomi takes the hint, to his relief, and before she can ask him anything else, Kurt hears footsteps a few feet away and turns his head. Blaine stands in the entrance to the living room, still in his pajamas and rubbing sleep from his eyes. He has a day or two’s worth of stubble covering his jaw. He looks at Naomi, head tilted to the side, and then at Kurt.

Naomi smiles and stands up, grabbing Blaine’s hand to shake it. “You’re Blaine, right? It’s good to meet you.”

“Uh, you too?” Blaine looks at Kurt helplessly. “Sorry, who are you?”

Kurt stands up. “This is Dr. Naomi McKay, Blaine. She’s your… therapist.”

Blaine’s expression hardens, his eyes narrowing as he snatches his hand away. “No.”

Naomi’s face falls. “She just wants to talk to you, Blaine. Give her a chance,” Kurt pleads.

“I don’t need a therapist,” he says, like it’s something to be ashamed of. “Sorry for wasting your time, doctor.”

Kurt plasters on a smile and steps next to Blaine. “Would you excuse us for a moment?” He doesn’t wait for a response before he grabs Blaine by the arm and drags him down to the end of the hallway - it’s probably not out of earshot, but Blaine is struggling against him, so Kurt releases him.

“I seriously cannot believe you,” Blaine hisses. “You called me a freaking shrink?”

“It’s for your own good,” Kurt snaps. “It’s been three days, Blaine. You’ve barely even come out of that room, I haven’t seen you eat anything but that salad the other night, and you haven’t spoken to anyone but Amelia.”

“I don’t need -“

“Yes you do. You have to talk to someone, Blaine, and you’ve clearly shown that that person won’t be me. I honestly don’t care who it is, but you’re not going to take the initiative, so I had to.”

Blaine rubs his eyes again. Kurt feels a little bad, springing this on him before he’s even had a cup of coffee. “I don’t want to talk to anyone,” he says, and this time Kurt can tell he’s actively trying to be calm. That’s something, at least. “Can’t I just - work this out on my own?”

“You’ve had years to do that, Blaine, and you didn’t even try. I won’t make you keep going to her, but just try it out for a few sessions. Maybe it won’t work for you, but who knows? You might even like it.” Blaine scoffs and looks away. “Look - if you won’t do this for yourself, do it for Amelia.”

It’s low, he knows it, but Kurt is desperate by now. Blaine’s brow furrows in confusion. “Amelia?”

“She needs her father. And you can’t be that to her unless you get better. The first step is talking to someone.”

It takes a while, but finally Blaine nods, though there is tightness in the set of his jaw, and Kurt can tell he’s refraining from saying something hurtful. “Just this once.”

Kurt was hoping for more, but he’ll take it. “Thank you.” He says softly. Blaine’s only answer is a half-hearted grumble.

He leads a sullen Blaine back to the living room, where Naomi is waiting. The corners of her eyes crinkle when she smiles up at him, as Blaine sits down on the couch across from her with a heavy thump, arms still crossed and a permanent scowl etched into his features. He looks at Naomi like he’s challenging her, but she doesn’t seem fazed.

“I’ll be in my office,” Kurt says - it’s really his bedroom, but calling it the office makes him feel more motivated to get work done instead of reorganizing his wardrobe for the hundredth time. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hummel.” Naomi beams up at him. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

Kurt gives them their privacy, retreating to his bedroom to start a long day of answering emails - honestly, the only bad thing about working from home for a while, besides going insane with only these walls to stare at, is that his co-workers have no idea what they’re doing without him. Especially with the fresh batch of interns they have now… it’s absurd. He starts up his computer, starting a doodle that might end up being a new design in his sketchbook while he waits.

“So, Blaine.”

Kurt freezes. It’s Naomi’s voice, slightly muffled by distance but still clear enough - he had forgotten that he could hear every sound through these thin walls. Useful for leaving Amelia to play alone for a minute, but a curse now.

“What am I supposed to do here? Do you want me to talk about my daddy issues? All the traumatic experiences of my childhood?” Blaine’s voice is harsh and sarcastic. The computer finishes starting up, but Kurt leaves it at the log-in screen. He really shouldn’t be listening to this - it’s private, just between Blaine and his psychiatrist, and god knows Blaine would throw a fit, refuse to see her again, and regress even further if he ever found out.

But he can’t deny that he wants to know what they’re talking about. Without eavesdropping, he might not ever know - it’s not like Blaine is forthcoming with his feelings these days. Kurt turns back to his computer, trying to focus on emails and his co-workers inane questions, but when the voices start again, he can’t help but keep one ear open. He can’t help Blaine if he doesn’t know what’s wrong, he tells himself.

“If you like,” Naomi says. “Is that what you want to talk about?”

“I don’t want to talk about anything. Kurt didn’t ask if I wanted a shrink. I have no obligation to talk to you.”

So much for giving it a try, Kurt thinks, rolling his eyes.

“You’re right - you don’t have to talk. I can’t make you.” Naomi agrees. “But I think you need to. Maybe you even want to. So, what about those daddy issues?” There’s a playful lilt to her voice. To Kurt’s surprise, Blaine barks out a laugh.

“Well, plenty of those.”

“I hear he disowned you.”

“Did Kurt tell you that?”

“Mmhm.”

“Nosy.” He doesn’t sound angry like Kurt expects. It’s not that Blaine’s issues with his parents are a secret, but he’d figured that Blaine wouldn’t appreciate Kurt talking about his personal life now that they aren’t together. “Yeah, he disowned me. About six years ago, now. That doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

“But it does have to do with your drinking problem, doesn’t it? You would be surprised at what triggers depression.”

“I’m not depressed.” Blaine says, too quickly.

“You tried to kill yourself. It’s my job to recognize depression, Blaine, and I think I already have my diagnosis.” There is no reply from Blaine, not that Kurt can hear, though he strains to listen, his email now forgotten, sketchbook and pencils limp in his hands. Naomi says softly, “It’s okay to need help, Blaine.”

“I don’t. Need help.” Blaine says, and his voice sounds rough and strange in a way Kurt can’t pinpoint.

“Okay. Let’s not waste our time together, though. Is there anything at all you do want to talk about?”

“No.”

Naomi doesn’t give in. Kurt admires her for it, her ability to keep pushing without seeming forceful. “What about your daughter?” She prompts. “Amelia, right? Tell me about her.”

Kurt smiles. If nothing else, she has intuition - when Blaine starts bragging about Amelia, it’s hard to get him to shut up; he’s the sort of parent who shows off pictures of his kid to everyone he meets.

“Um…” Blaine trails off. “She just turned five, a few months ago. She looks a lot like me, I guess. She… she makes up these incredible stories, just off the top of her head. I think she has more imaginary friends than real ones.”

“She sounds like a wonderful girl.”

“She is.” Kurt can almost hear the smile on Blaine’s face, soft, as if he isn’t even aware that he’s smiling. “She definitely deserves a better dad than me.”

“What about Kurt?” Kurt sucks in a sharp breath at the sound of his name. What Blaine thinks of him now is still an utter mystery. He’s always so angry when Kurt tries to talk to him, but sometimes he’ll catch Blaine looking, and there will be a look of unfathomable sadness in his eyes that Kurt doesn’t know what to do with.

“Kurt would be a great dad if -“ Blaine stops and starts over. “I mean, he is a great dad. He fought so hard to get her back; he loves her so much, but I don’t think he really… understands her. Maybe if I hadn’t kept her from him for so long…”

“Why did you do that?”

The pause stretches on, and Kurt holds his breath for every moment of it. He had never asked why, wondered at a deeper reason behind Blaine’s actions - too upset, too angry, too fucked up to think about another person’s feelings, even those of the man he loved (had loved, he reminded himself, absently lifting a hand to his cheek as if to rub away the phantom sting of a backhanded slap.) He was not proud of those first six months after the breakup, spent either working too hard, sitting around asking himself where he went wrong (the answer was always that it was entirely his fault or entirely Blaine’s; Kurt never claimed to be particularly reasonable), and avoiding Rachel’s probing questions. And missing Amelia, until he managed to get visitation.

But that was the difference between him and Blaine. Kurt had had his period of being utterly pathetic, and then, while he had never stopped being sad and angry and hurt, he had at least learned to fill up the hours with practical things so that he didn’t have time to think about it. Eventually the pain of heartbreak had faded to an ever-present, dull ache, a bruise that flared up from time to time if he poked and prodded at it, but could be otherwise ignored.

Blaine had never moved past the excuse for living that was those first six months.

“Because… she was the only thing I had left,” Blaine says, so soft that Kurt isn’t sure he heard right at first. “Her and the booze. I know that - that she would have been better off with Kurt, I knew that, but. I’ve pushed everyone else I ever cared about away from me. I couldn’t lose her too.” He gives a shaky laugh. “Guess I lost her anyway, though. Fucking stupid.”

“It’s not too late to get her back, you know.” Naomi said. “You would have to work very hard to get better, and prove yourself to be a fit parent, but I don’t think there’s any reason you couldn’t still see her, after you go back home.”

“…How do you do that?” There is a hint of amusement in Blaine’s voice, though he doesn’t laugh. “I came in here refusing to talk at all and suddenly I’m spilling everything. You didn’t cast a spell on me, did you?”

She does laugh, musical and mischievous. “Part of why I’m so good at my job. I’m easy to talk to, or so they say.”

“I’ll give you that. But I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Okay. Our time is just about up, anyway.” Kurt’s shoulders slump in disappointment - so close. Still, she had gotten him to talk for the first time in days without blindly lashing out. He had always known that this wouldn’t be fixed overnight. It’s a start - if Blaine will agree to keep seeing her. “You’re under no obligation, of course, but I would like to see you again, Blaine. Here, or at my office, or some other neutral territory - anywhere you’re comfortable. You can set up an appointment anytime - my schedule is always open. What do you say?”

“I…” Blaine hesitates. Kurt wishes that he could see Blaine’s face, or read his mind. Finally, he answers, so soft that Kurt barely hears. “I just, I don’t know.”

“That’s okay, too. You don’t have to decide now. Give me a call?” There is no answer, but Kurt assumes that Blaine either nods or shakes his head, because he hears the sound of Naomi’s heels on the floor as she walks. She says goodbye to Blaine, and the door shuts behind her.

Kurt does manage to get back to work, then, shaking his head to clear it - if he chooses to dwell on anything he just heard, it will be later when the guilt he should feel from eavesdropping has wormed its way up to the surface - and forcing himself to answer emails. He only looks up from his computer or sketchpad, where a design for a flashy yet elegant suit is beginning to take shape as he scribbles between emails downloading, when he hears his door squeak open. Blaine doesn’t enter, but lingers just outside the threshold.

“She seems like a sweet girl,” Kurt says. Blaine lifts one shoulder in a lame excuse for a shrug. “How did it go?” His voice is high and too innocent, and he winces. If Blaine notices or suspects that Kurt had been listening, he doesn’t let it show.

“It was… something.” Blaine says vaguely. “I don’t know.”

“Do you think you’ll give her another chance?” He doesn’t want to push too hard all in one day - that will only make Blaine resist help even more. But he hopes that Blaine will at least consider.

Blaine leans against the doorframe. “It sucks. That you called her here without talking to me first. I don’t want a shrink - like I’m fucking crazy.”

“You wouldn’t have agreed if I had. Or let me talk to you, for that matter.” For the past three days, the only words Blaine had spoken to Kurt had been to do with Amelia - other than that, all of Kurt’s prompts were met with untranslatable mumbles at best, and blatantly ignored at worst.

Never in his life had he met someone so resistant to help. It was just as strange as it was frustrating - because that wasn’t like Blaine. Yes, he preferred to solve his problems on his own when he could, but he had never been like this.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Kurt said. “Will you make another appointment?”

Blaine let out a long, slow breath. “I might. Don’t ask me for more than that.”

Kurt nods. It’s not much, but it’s more than they had before. “I know it had to be hard, but I’m proud of you for giving it a try.” He even means it. Blaine could have walked out, but he had at least sat down with that stranger for an hour, at least made a start. It gives Kurt hope.

“Yeah, well.” Blaine shifts around. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands without pockets to hide them in, and leaves them hanging limp at his side instead. “Don’t get used to it.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, leaving as suddenly as he’d appeared.