“She likes it! She’s chewing!”

“Rach, it’s just banana. All babies like bananas.”

“But Kurt, she’s chewing! It’s actual food and her jaw’s going up and down and she’s chewing! She’s a genius!”

Kurt laughs. It’s a relief to hear her voice; he can’t figure out why. It’s as if something’s been different, but he can’t remember what it is. The thought is unsettling, so he pushes it aside.

“Do you think you’ll want your own food any time soon? The salmon’s done.”

“Oh, right, sure, in a second-”

She ignores him and uses the spoon to catch the blob of mashed banana sliding down the baby’s chin. Kurt stifles a laugh as she stretches her mouth open and closed in time with Eliza unconsciously. She looks like an anchovy, but he knows he probably does it too so he’s in no position to laugh at her. Eliza’s captivated, staring at her mother with wide eyes and a grin which won’t close around the spoon properly.

“Yum, yum, banana…” Rachel can’t help elongating each syllable and giggling when Eliza lets another mouthful fall out and onto her hand. Kurt lays two plates on the table before swooping in to grab Eliza’s hand and suck the banana off. If he’d seen someone do that a couple of years ago he would have cringed (ugh, that’s just been in someone else’s mouth), but now it feels normal. He lets her fist close around his finger and pretends to bite it.

“Mmm, deeee-licious! Tastes like baby, my favourite!”

He makes ridiculous chomping noises, gnashing his teeth against the back of her hand. She finds the whole display thoroughly entertaining and screams with laughter. He leans forward to kiss her forehead, prying her fingers away from his and sits down opposite Rachel, smiling at his daughter and best friend. He feels relaxed until that thought comes back into his head. This is wrong. It’s different. He shrugs it off again, too happy to care.

“Somebody eating banana shouldn’t be this exciting, should it?”

Rachel laughs.

“I know; we’re those people now. We’re just another couple of parents, living our dreams through her, pouring all our energy into her because we no longer have our own lives to focus on. I can’t believe it only took five months to get so… domesticated. We’re so old.”

“I guess we need to start thinking about schools soon.”

“Oh God, Kurt, already? Can’t we just keep her here forever?”

He laughs.

“I know, I know, but we want to get on the right lists, at least start visiting places. It’s New York, the best ones are gonna fill up way in advance; they’re like restaurants.”

Rachel huffs out a breath, finally turning away from Eliza and picking up her fork. She rests an elbow on the table as she stabs at a wedge of tomato.

“I don’t even know where we’d start. The only schools I know are the fancy ones; I don’t want her to be surrounded by all those snobs.”

“Those snobs are your friends’ kids.”

“They’re my colleagues’ kids, and even the toddlers are so dramatic and pretentious…”

“Rach, did you ever meet two-year-old you? Admittedly, I only knew you from fourteen upwards, but from what I’ve heard you weren’t exactly mild-mannered-”

She rolls her eyes at him.

“I just want her to know some normal children. Do you know anywhere, or do we just go straight to Google?”

“There’s Oakridge. Henry and Stacey go there, and I’ve heard nothing but good things.”

There’s a pause. He looks up. Rachel’s head is on one side and her forehead’s wrinkled.

“Who?”

That doubting feeling comes back. His stomach tightens and he frowns.

“Nobody. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”

How do I know those names?

Rachel shrugs and starts attacking the fish on her plate enthusiastically.

“Well, it’s not like we have to enrol her tonight;” she looks at her watch (that’s not her watch. She hates watches. ‘They’re ugly and they have more control over people than any machine should have’) and her eyes widen. “Oh crap, I’m late!”

‘Crap’? ‘Late’? Never words out of Rachel Berry’s mouth.

Kurt sits up.

“What for? Rachel, why didn’t you tell me you were going out?”

“I thought I did. I’m just going to Cooper’s.”

Cooper. Wait.

Rachel grabs the bicycle helmet that he hadn’t even realised was on the table.

She would rather spend a hundred dollars on a taxi than mess up her hair with a helmet.

“It’s cool; I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“No, Rachel, no – you don’t know Cooper,” he tries to ignore the cold feeling settling in his stomach, “you don’t cycle, you don’t say ‘cool’, you don’t wear a watch, you don’t… you-”

She smiles calmly at him and hops back to him to kiss him on the cheek.

“Don’t be silly. Gotta run!”

He stands up, knocking his knife on the table with a clang and not bothering to pick it up. Eliza isn’t laughing anymore.

“No, Rachel, come back! You can’t go again; we can’t lose you again! Stop!”

He tries to grab her arm on her way out, but somehow she slips out of his grasp. He tries again, calling her name over and over, but she doesn’t turn. She’s frozen, just ahead of him, her face hidden. He hears her shouting his name and he doesn’t understand why she can’t just turn around, until he realises that’s not her voice. It’s lower, rougher, panicking.

Kurt jerked into consciousness with the sound of Blaine’s voice floating above him, jostling his knee. He realised he was clinging to his hand desperately, managing to grip even though his fingers were slick with sweat. He heard another voice rambling alongside Blaine’s; it was his own.

“No, no, where is she? Why isn’t- why are you- you’re not-” Blaine tried to shush him. Kurt wanted to shush himself, but the words kept falling out. His shirt was sticking to his chest and his throat was tight. He’d obviously been shouting for a while, and his cheeks were wet with a mixture of sweat and tears. He looked up at Blaine. His eyes were pleading and scared and he whispered, “you’re not Rachel,” before snatching his hand away. Blaine pulled back for a second, worried he’d done something wrong, but he didn’t leave.

“I heard you… crying. You kept saying her name and shouting and I just- I wanted to help.”

He looked at his hands, wringing them together before he looked back at Kurt.

“Do you want me to- should I go? You just sounded so upset- I’ll go-”

Blaine started to stand up but Kurt’s hand reached out again before he could stop it.

“No-”

Blaine stood next to the bed, catching Kurt’s hand in both of his. He stroked it with his thumb, letting Kurt know he wouldn’t go if he didn’t want him to.

“What can I do? Let me do something.”

Kurt shook his head slowly. What could he do?

“I don’t know… Just don’t go. She was here and then she wasn’t, and it’s like it’s happened again, and-”

Blaine slid onto the bed next to him, instinctively wrapping an arm around his shoulders, using his free hand to keep stroking Kurt’s as they clutched frantically at the sheets. He whispered into his hair, soft ‘I’m here’s and ‘I’ve got you’s.

“I can’t lose you too, Blaine, not both of you in one night, I just can’t,” Blaine held him tighter, letting him know he was real and alive and there, “I can’t lose you-”

Blaine tucked Kurt’s head under his chin, pulling him close despite the sweaty clothes and cold skin. He soon warmed up as Blaine rocked him gently, rubbing his back in wide circles, whispering reassurances to him even though he probably couldn’t hear them.

“I’m not going anywhere, Kurt. You’re not gonna lose me.”

Kurt let go of the sheets and wrapped his arms around Blaine’s waist instead, burying his face in his chest. He felt so solid and strong, not like the nervous man who rocked up for his interview or the guy who talked nonsense to a baby, but the friend who was there when he needed him, stroking his hair and his back, coiling around him until he felt safe.

The radio crackled to life next to Blaine’s ear at six, bringing them crashing back into consciousness. Blaine was somehow under the covers with Kurt, still holding him like he had been hours earlier. Kurt knew he should have felt embarrassed; Blaine probably should have as well, but they didn’t move for a few minutes. It wasn’t awkward. Kurt looked up at Blaine, whose hair was even messier now than usual, whose neck was stiff from being curled against Kurt all night, whose arms hadn’t left their posts around him for a second, and he smiled. Blaine smiled back, wiggling his toes next to Kurt’s ankle.

Kurt took a deep breath and swallowed. He didn’t have Rachel, but he had something.

“You stayed.”

“I wanted to.”

“Thank you.”

Blaine bent his head forward, burying his nose in Kurt’s hair and squeezing him gently. They heard a whimper coming from down the hall. They looked at each other for a second, before Blaine sat up.

“I’ll get her. You should get ready for work.”

Kurt shivered when Blaine stroked his back one last time and slid off the bed, leaving an empty space behind him instead of a warm chest rising and falling steadily and a heartbeat next to his jaw. He remembered to prop himself up on his hand just in time, rubbing a hand over his face as he watched Blaine leave with a shy smile back at him before he walked through the doorway. He blinked a couple of times at the open door before flopping back down onto the pillows.

Why did his arms have to feel exactly as nice as he thought they would?