When Sunday dawns, Blaine’s eyes are heavy and bloodshot. His mother disappears on an impromptu shopping trip and, thank the stars, takes Bethany with her for once. He doesn’t know why his mother decided to practice her mother-daughter bonding act today, but Blaine is supremely grateful. He doesn’t think he could have handled either of them, not today.

Not after the way Kurt had looked at him last night.

Blaine spends too long in bed, curled up beneath his blanket, staring at nothing in particular. He checks his phone every twenty minutes to see if Kurt had sent him a text message.

But there’s nothing.

He hates this – this limbo, caught in between knowing if they’re still together or not. It’s maddening.

Eventually, he feels like he’ll go crazy if he doesn’t get up and do something. He showers, dresses, makes his bed, cleans his room, picks up Bethany’s toys, cleans all the dishes, and starts a load of laundry. It’s barely past noon by the time he seats himself at the kitchen table, listening to the ticking sound of the clock in the living room. He sighs heavily.

He feels lost in the emptiness of the house.

He feels lost without the good morning text he usually receives from Kurt.

Kurt.

Blaine misses him. It’s been less than twenty four hours since they last spoke, but Blaine misses him terribly. He can’t stop thinking about the anger and the hurt in Kurt’s voice. He keeps seeing the broken look on Kurt’s face and he just wants to make it better.

Swallowing hard, Blaine finally plucks his phone off the kitchen table. No point in wasting time.

“I – I don’t really know what to say,” Blaine mumbles.

Kurt seats himself on the edge of the sofa in Blaine’s living room, looking ill at ease in the quiet of the space.

“Well, you called me over here so we could talk,” Kurt points out. “I figured you’d have something prepared.”

Blaine shrugs and sits on the coffee table rather than the sofa, solely for the intention of facing Kurt head on.

“To be honest, I thought I’d think of somewhere to start by the time you got here.”

“Honesty’s a good place to start,” Kurt approves.

Nodding, Blaine fidgets with his hands in his lap. It’s hard to keep eye contact when Kurt’s back is ramrod straight and his chin is lifted just so, as if he’s already prepared for an argument. And Kurt is right; Blaine should just be honest. Kurt’s had to deal with a lot of extra crap from him. He’s put up with Blaine’s whining, his insecurities, and he’s had to put up with Blaine’s little sister more often than not.

“You-” Blaine falters immediately.

“If you’re going to sit there and tell me everything I’ve done wrong, maybe we shouldn’t have this conversation.”

“No, that’s not – that’s not it,” Blaine backtracks. “That’s not what I was gonna do.”

Kurt’s hard expression seems to waver at the defeat written in the lines on Blaine’s young face.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says softly. “I didn’t mean to get so defensive.”

“It’s fine.”

“Blaine…I am still your boyfriend,” Kurt reminds. “You can talk to me about anything.”

“Are you?” Blaine asks, fishing to hear the declaration again, just because he needs to hear it.

“Of course I am. We had a fight. That doesn’t mean we’re over.”

“Oh. I sort of thought-”

“I know what you thought,” Kurt says. “Or, I know now, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Blaine murmurs for lack of a better response. He continues to wring his hands, chewing on his lower lip as his anxiety seems to drown all proper thought process.

“You should know that I’m more worried than I am angry at this point,” Kurt states. “Please. Just talk to me.”

Blaine heaves a deep, calming breath and finally focuses intently on Kurt’s face. He does look worried, Blaine realizes. But he doesn’t have anything to be worried about. Why should he?

“You-” Blaine begins again, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t think you realize how perfect you seem to me.”

“…What?”

“You’re perfect,” Blaine repeats. “Ever since I met you – that day on the playground – you’re just so…put together. Like, you know yourself and you know what you like and you know what you want. You know where you wanna go and who you wanna be. Even your appearance is perfect; never a strand of hair out of place, always perfectly dressed. It’s like…you’re my antithesis. You’re patient and level-headed and I just feel scatterbrained and stressed all the time. I envy you.”

“…I think the way I overreacted last night can attest to the fact that I’m far from perfect, Blaine.”

“But you didn’t overreact,” Blaine objects. “You were right. I wasn’t thinking about you. I wasn’t thinking about the fact that you might’ve gone through some bad stuff. Because it’s – it’s hard for me to see you that way. Even at school, you don’t make a big fuss about anything that might have happened there in the past. I know you get sarcastic and, uh, sassy around the kids in Glee, but I figure that just comes from them having known you for so long and you’re comfortable with them. But you aren’t rude, you hardly ever get angry, not even when those jocks shoulder bump you in the hallway.”

“That’s because I’ve learned to ignore them,” Kurt explains.

“I figured,” Blaine says with a slow nod. “The point, though, is that you were right. I wasn’t thinking. And you’ve only ever tried to help me.”

“I could help more if you’d let me.”

“It’s – it’s not that easy. I don’t think you understand how difficult it is for me to think about leaving Bethany behind, even if it means living my life the way I wish I could.”

Kurt leans forward, grasping both of Blaine’s nervous hands in his and giving them a reassuring squeeze.

“Then explain.”

“I was trying not to make this all about me again,” Blaine grumbles.

“You think I don’t understand,” Kurt says. “If I don’t understand something about you, it has to do with both of us. So explain.”

Blaine sighs deeply, watching Kurt’s thumb soothe over the tops of his knuckles.

“She’s my baby sister,” Blaine whispers. “I know Finn’s your brother now, but I was there when Bethany was born. I remember when she learned how to walk and even though her first word was mama, her second word was ‘brovver’ because she couldn’t say brother properly. I remember being worried when she cried because I wanted to take care of her but I didn’t know what was wrong. And after dad left, even though she was a bit older, I remember how sad she looked when we’d get up to eat breakfast and dad wasn’t there to kiss her goodbye in the morning. Somewhere, even if it’s just subconsciously, she knows our mother isn’t the most reliable person. But I am. I promised her I wouldn’t leave her. She already has nightmares about being abandoned. I won’t let her nightmares come true.”

“Why do you think it’s your responsibility? To not let that happen, I mean.”

“Because I’m the reason she doesn’t have a real father,” Blaine states, holding up a hand to stop Kurt from arguing the point. “I know, you said it’s his responsibility to accept me. And I know I shouldn’t have to change and I know I shouldn’t pretend to be something I’m not. But if I was straight, that big fight never would have happened, he never would have hit me, and my mother never would have kicked him out. I know that being gay, as a fact, isn’t my fault. But I could have just kept that fact to myself until I was older and out on my own.”

“Did you know your father would have a problem with you being gay?”

“Well…no,” Blaine admits. “He never said anything about homosexuals, one way or the other.”

“Then how could your proclamation of your sexuality truly be your fault if you had no idea of the potential ramifications?”

“That’s the thing. It’s easy for you to think that way and point stuff out like that. But it isn’t for me, not after I’ve convinced myself that I was the problem. I’m trying to think about it differently now, I really am, but it’s hard. And it’s hard every day because I’m around Bethany and I start thinking about how much freedom I’d have if I didn’t have to look after her. It’s this full circle battle that’s constantly in my head and it’s been like this for nearly four years. I know you’re just trying to help when you say stuff like that, but it’s not a way of thought I can just…change. I’m not trying to be stubborn or headstrong or anything. I’m not trying to not let you help. It’s just hard for me to accept help when it comes to that issue.”

Kurt rewards him with a smile, though it’s one of the sad variety that makes Blaine wish he wasn’t so screwed up on the inside. He releases his hold on Blaine’s hands.

“You were right,” Kurt states. “I didn’t understand that. And I didn’t think about the fact that you’ve lived with this…ideology, I guess, for so long.”

“I wish I didn’t,” Blaine mumbles. “I wish I could…be better for you. Because you’re too good for me.”

Kurt's eyes widen to a near comical degree.

“Blaine Anderson, you are singularly one of the most moronic individuals I’ve ever met.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I love you, you idiot.”

Blaine blinks rapidly, as if the action, absurdly, might help lessen the ringing in his ears.

“As far as declamations go, that’s not exactly the one I was expecting,” he drawls.

“I am not too good for you,” Kurt says. “And if I’m so damn perfect, why are the guys not lined up at my door, ready to sweep me off my feet?”

“Uh…because you’d slap them if they tried?”

“Do you know how long it takes for me to make my hair look like this? And I can spend hours looking for the perfect outfit. This isn’t natural beauty! This takes work!”

“Well, you make it look effortless.”

Kurt rolls his eyes, but that doesn’t stop him from preening just a tiny bit.

“The point,” Kurt says in exasperation, “is that it has taken a lot of work and a good deal of time for me to become the person I am. Two years ago, I would have had a scathing comeback for anyone that even looked at me the wrong way. I was quick to point out everyone’s flaws and I looked down on nearly every student at that school. Granted, I still think the majority of them are a useless bunch of cattle, but I’ve learned to pick my battles and keep my mouth shut when necessary. I just grew up, Blaine. I learned a lot and I grew up. I went through hell for a long time, I’ll admit, and it hardened me as a person. But I have good friends now, and a good family and a remarkable boyfriend to keep me grounded. For all that, I’m very, very far from perfect.”

“…You think I’m remarkable?”

“Of course you are. You’re a wonderful brother, a caring person, and you’re still sane after all you’ve been through. Not to mention, you put up with me on a daily basis. That, in itself, is remarkable.”

“I don’t put up with you, I-”

“And neither do I put up with you. I’m glad we can come to an understanding on that front.”

Blaine grins, shaking his head in amusement.

“Now,” Kurt says. “Back to the reason we actually fought last night.”

“Do we have-”

“Why do you think you can’t live the life you want and look after Bethany at the same time?” Kurt asks directly.

“Because the life I want is some place that isn’t here,” Blaine states. He thought Kurt knew that.

“And?”

Blaine stares blankly. “What do you mean ‘and’? There’s no ‘and’ to it.”

“Have you ever considered the fact that you don’t have to be where she is, but rather she can be where you are?”

The realization of Kurt’s words hits Blaine in the face like a train barreling down the tracks at full speed. The world tilts a little, or maybe that’s just him almost falling off the coffee table. Sure, he’s fantasized about sharing an apartment with Kurt, with Bethany taking up a third of their living space. Yeah, he may or may not have pretended that they were their own little family when they all three go to the park.

But actually considering taking Bethany with him?

“That’s impossible,” Blaine finally says. “I mean, there’s no way that could ever actually happen.”

“Why not? You’re already her primary caretaker.”

“Not in that sense,” Blaine argues. “I don’t make any money to provide for her. It’s not that easy.”

“You’re thinking in legalities,” Kurt says.

“Legalities or not, I can’t just take her. I’ll barely be eighteen by the time I go off to college. My mother would never, in a million years, allow me to take Bethany away.”

“You don’t think she’d be glad to be rid of the responsibility?” Kurt asks as delicately as possible. Blaine realizes there’s no real delicate way to ask such a question, but it is a point to be made.

Except, that’s not the issue.

“You saw her at dinner that one time,” Blaine reminds. “She lost her shit whenever Bethany hinted at the fact that I’m practically her father. Every single time we argue, it’s about how Bethany is her daughter, how she makes the rules, and how I have absolutely no right to tell her how to be a mother. Bethany is a card she likes to play whenever she feels like it. She’ll never give her up, even if she doesn’t have to go through the appropriate channels.”

“I don’t suppose you could just…declare her an unfit mother?”

“She works to make enough money to provide for all of us. She keeps us clothed, sheltered, and fed. She isn’t physically abusive, she isn’t verbally abusive, and she isn’t neglectful. Well, for the most part. I mean, she doesn’t leave us for days on end to fend for ourselves without access to food or water or anything like that. She isn’t leaving a minor child to care for herself. She isn’t an alcoholic or a drug addict or anything like that. There’s nothing that would stand up in court.”

Kurt sighs softly, leaning back against the sofa. He narrows his eyes, staring off into space, as if he’s deep in thought.

“Plus, I – I’m not sure I could provide for her, even if my mother did just hand her over to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’d be in school, you know? I’d have to go to classes and I’d have to work a ton of hours to make enough money for both of us. I’d barely have time to actually be there with her. It’d be the same situation as here, but worse, because it’s just me.”

“No it wouldn’t,” Kurt says, tilting his head in confusion. “I’d be there, too.”

“…What?”

“I’d be with you,” Kurt says again. “We’d all be there together. We would both have income, bills would be split between the two of us, and one of us would always be around to take care of her, even if we had to put her in daycare for a few hours. Kids go into daycare all the time. You wouldn’t be doing this alone. I’d never suggest that. That’s way too much to handle, especially after everything you deal with now.”

“That’s-” insane “really, really generous, Kurt. But like I said, my mother will never go for it. Ever.”

“Damn,” Kurt mutters. “I really thought I’d found a way to make it work.”

The quiet statement catches Blaine off guard. “You – you’ve been thinking about this?”

“For a few weeks now,” Kurt says. “I was hoping you’d just…take the easy way out and go on your own, of course. But after last night, I figured I should probably talk to you about it.”

“I wish things could be that simple,” Blaine whispers.

“Me, too.”

“I mean, I can ask, but…” Blaine trails off, knowing that Kurt will understand that the entire idea is sticky and improbable.

“I know.”

“But – we’re okay, right? We’re not, um, fighting anymore?”

Kurt glares at him, as if to ask ‘what do you think’, and beckons him onto the couch with a single finger. Blaine goes without hesitation, enjoying this sassy side of Kurt. He settles onto Kurt’s lap and wraps his arm around his boyfriend’s neck. Kurt immediately presses a gentle kiss to Blaine’s smiling lips, threading a hand through his mussed, curly hair.

“By the way,” Blaine breathes. “I love you, too.”

“As far as declarations go, I like it.”