#3

July 14, 2017

"Rachel. Rachel, open up, I know youre home, your lights are on! Rachel!" Kurt rapped on the door, not stopping until it opened to reveal his very annoyed best friend.

"Have you considered that I might be busy? Or not interested in your company right now?" she hissed, moving swiftly to block the door before he had time to charge through.

"Oh come on, Rachel, if you have someone there, they can wait a moment. You and I have something to discuss." Kurt whipped a slim ecru envelope out of his jacket pocket. "I got this in the mail today. Apparently Blaine and Quinns wedding got cancelled. Do you know anything about it?"

"Kurt, this is not a good time." Rachel turned as if to step back inside and Kurt grabbed her hand before she could move.

"Oh no, babe, dont even think of that. See, I know you were in Lima last week. And I happen to know you were in charge of the invitations, and these are the exact same design, so I guess they were your work, too. What happened? Why didnt you tell me anything? Is Blaine alright?"

Behind Rachel, in the apartment, something fell to the floor with a dull thump. She glanced back with a worried frown. "I really cant talk right now."

And then she took a step back, using his momentary distraction to pull her hand out of his, and closed the door in one smooth motion.

Kurt blinked, stunned. Did she just shut him out? He pounded on the door again.

"Rachel Barbra Berry, open the door this instant or... or you can forget about my help with your premiere dress, do you hear me? Rachel! Open the door!"

But the only results of the next few minutes were sore knuckles and an angry neighbor peeking out from the next door apartment telling him to go the fuck away.

*

Back home, Kurt only hesitated long enough to pour himself a glass of wine before tapping out a text to Blaine.

Are you okay?

Theyd had no contact since that night on his father's porch two months ago, and as much as Kurt missed talking to Blaine, he wasnt really sure where they stood or how awkward it would be once they met again. So he was relieved, if a little nervous when his phone rang not a minute later, the screen lighting up with Blaines high school picture.

"Blaine."

"Hi Kurt. I... I could really use a friend right now. Do you think–"

He sounded broken, raw, and Kurt sank into the armchair with his wine and grabbed a blanket. He had all the time Blaine needed.

"Of course. Are you alright? I just found out today."

"No," Blaine said quietly.

Kurt waited for him to elaborate, but nothing more seemed to be coming, so finally he prompted gently, "Blaine?"

"I'm not okay. I have no one to talk to. Im all alone here, Rachel is with Quinn, and I have no one. Im losing my fiancée and my daughter, Im alone in an empty house, and I have no one, Kurt."

Kurt didnt hesitate for a second. "You have me. Im here. Talk to me."

Blaine let out a shaky exhale. “What did Rachel tell you?”

“Nothing. I got the wedding cancellation notice in the mail and went to ask her what happened, but she wouldn't talk to me. She had– oh. I guess she had Quinn there, didn't she?” Rachel's weird behavior made much more sense all of a sudden.

“Probably.” Blaine sounded choked. “They went to New York together two days ago.”

“Two days– Damn that woman! I swear–” Kurt exclaimed before catching himself. His annoyance at Rachel could wait. “Blaine, what happened? I thought you two were happy together.”

“I thought so too,” Blaine said. There was a clink of glass in the receiver. “And I don't know what happened. I have no idea. One day we were discussing buying a house, with Rachel all bouncy and excited to go see a few with us, and the next I came home from work to find Quinn crying and saying we have to cancel the wedding.”

“Could it be just the hormones?” Kurt asked carefully.

Blaine sniffled. “That's what I thought, too. But she said she'd been thinking about it for months, she just never had enough courage to tell me that this wasn't what she really wanted. She said…” There was a pause and another clink of glass followed by the sound of swallowing. It looked like Kurt wasn't the only one with liquor in this conversation. “She said she loved me, and I was her best friend, and that I'd be an amazing father, but she couldn't imagine spending her whole life with me.”

“I thought you guys had been planning to get married even before there was a baby in the picture?”

“I–” Blaine paused, then admitted, “I don't know. That's what we told everyone, but to be honest, we hadn't thought that far ahead. We had only been a couple for six months before Quinn got pregnant. We were good together so marriage felt like an obvious choice, and she never seemed like she didn't want it.”

“Did you?” Kurt asked gently.

“I… I could imagine myself as a husband, easily. And a dad. God, definitely a dad, I couldn't wait for our girl to be born. And now–“

Blaine's voice broke and Kurt ached to reach out through the space and just hug him.

“You will still be her dad,” he reassured. Then he caught himself. “Or did Quinn say she doesn't want anything to do with you?”

“No,” Blaine sniffled. “She said she wants our baby to know me, that we will work it out somehow, but she can't marry me.”

“See?” Kurt said. “You will still be her dad. It may be harder, and different than you imagined, but you'll be there for your daughter, come on. You'll find a way. I have no doubt about it.” Blaine's hitching breath was evening out again. Kurt asked, “Is Quinn planning to stay in New York?”

“I think so. That's what she was thinking about before she got pregnant – some life changes, a big city, a new job. Rachel told her she could live with her until she finds her footing, so–“

“So you can always come here,” Kurt said. “I live two minutes away from Rachel. You can visit whenever you want, I have a spare room. It will work out. Maybe even you and Quinn will patch things up?”

“I doubt that,” Blaine said morosely.

Another clink of glass. Blaine's voice was changing, not slurred yet but slower, deeper, the way Kurt knew well from their occasional drinking escapades in college. Blaine was passing the point of tipsy and into drunk. It always did things to Kurt's libido when Blaine's voice got like this, rough and sexy, but not this time. Not when there was so much hurt there.

Blaine took a shuddering breath and continued.

“She said this isn't a relationship she can imagine being forever. That it's nice and easy and I make her feel safe and cared for, but this isn't it. I'm not the One, I'm just a cherished friend who also happened to be her lover and the father of her child. There's no future for us, Kurt.”

“Wow,” Kurt breathed out. “I'm sorry. And it took her this long to realize that?”

Blaine huffed. “I think it's because of Rachel. I worked late those last few days so they were alone together a lot, planning the last details and talking and– I think Quinn saw her chance. I mean, she had no one to support her before, financially or emotionally, if she left. She had nowhere to go, her parents only tolerated her pregnancy because she was getting married. Rachel gave her an option, and she took it. My own fucking sister.” Blaine laughed bitterly.

“Why would she do that?“ Kurt knew Rachel had her flaws – she was sometimes blinded by her ambition, definitely self-centered, and always a diva. But she was never cruel, and certainly not to those she loved.

“Oh, they've become friends,” Blaine said bitterly. “Sisters, Rach insisted. She said she's doing it for all of us, because it's better in the long run. It's better if we split now than divorce a few years down the line, or live our whole lives unhappy together. What the fuck does she know?”

There was a dull thump on Blaine's end, then a crash of breaking glass and a muffled curse. Kurt winced. Blaine must have reached the uncoordinated phase.

“Blaine? Blaine, honey, leave the glass, you'll only cut yourself. Leave it, you can clean it up in the morning, okay?” he soothed, concerned. The silence on the phone stretched, and Kurt could almost see Blaine crouching helplessly over the broken bottle or glass or whatever it was that fell to the floor. No one there to help him or hold him, just be there for him. “Come on, talk to me. Are you there?”

“I'm here,” came the quiet reply.

“Okay, how about you go to bed now?”

“I can't,” he choked out. “There are too many memories in that bed. The night after the engagement, the dreams and planning and talking, all those times I lay there with my hand on Quinn's belly, feeling the baby kick–”

“The couch then,” Kurt interrupted before Blaine could break down completely. “Go crash on the couch. Sleep it off and I will call you in the morning. I can talk to Rachel or–”

“No. It's done, it's no use,” Blaine murmured. Kurt could hear him moving, shuffling, the whisper of a blanket. Thank god drunken Blaine was always easy to direct. When he spoke again, he sounded somewhat less inebriated. “Thank you, Kurt. For letting me get this out. I needed it.”

“Anytime. I'm here for you, I promise, whenever you need me. Goodnight, Blaine.”

“'Night, Kurt.”

There was a beep in the receiver, but the connection didn't end and Kurt stayed on the phone for a while longer, quietly listening as Blaine's breathing evened out, until he felt like a creep and disconnected.

He would call him in the morning. He would do everything in his power to help Blaine get through this. But for now, the only thing he could do was let him sleep.

 —-

CHAPTER ART by headbandxbowties

Change of plans