"Kurt?" Blaines heavy lids sagged over his eyes that desperately pulled at the blankets that could cover them from the few rays of light that hovered over the bed. But, as much as his eyes would have liked to drift off into the blackness of his dreams, Blaines mind still needed his eyes to give answers to things he questioned in the light. His poor, unblinking eyes that were starting to itch with dryness caught the slow part of Kurts dark pink lips that had colored blue under the midnight sky as he sighed, and then the pointy tip of his nose twitched at the warm air he had let out. Finally blinking because he hoped that when he opened his eyes again, Kurts would also be open, he disappointed himself to find that Kurt had turned his cheek into the pillow and snuggled himself into a more comfortable sleep.

Maybe Blaine should have just let him rest, and he himself should have put aside all his cares that could wait until the next day so he could get his first full night of sleep that hed had in weeks, but Blaine didnt like waiting. If he was being sensible, he would have settled on the fact that the matter actually wasnt very urgent, but, to Blaine, every rain shower was just the same as a thunderstorm. He was always wet, cold, and miserable. "Kurt." He blurted, his throat tightening with guilt that he couldnt just leave Kurt to his peaceful sleep. He should have felt happy that at least one of the two of them could make it through the night without tossing and turning himself off the bed. His tongue twisted around itself when Kurt shifted around, lifting his stomach toward the ceiling first then raising his arms and legs in a stretch. Once he finished curling and uncurling his toes, he opened his slightly narrowed eyes, then squinted them even more when he became confused as to why he wasnt waking up to light instead of dark.

Before Blaine could spend even a moment wondering if he should just let Kurt cuddle into his pillow again and go back to sleep, his tongue unwrapped itself and jabbed into his lips, forcing his mouth open, "Kurt? Why did the princess love the frog?" Kurts blue eyes reappeared, and he looked baffled once more, as if he hadnt been expecting such an involved question when hed just woken up from a deep sleep.

He took a moment to roll onto his stomach, pressing his face to the pillow, and through a yawn he babbled, "Why did the princess... Mm?" Lifting one drooping lid, Kurt finally focused on Blaine, who, too remorseful to look at Kurt, cast his eyes down to the storybook that hed been clinging to for the longest time. He wished that he could read it, but all he could do was stare at that stagnant picture and wonder what the story was behind it.

Suddenly, he felt the blankets tug, and Kurt scooted over to his side. Surprised that Kurt hadnt turned away when he realized how ridiculous of a question it was that Blaine was considering in the middle of the night, he felt the book slide from his limp hands when Kurt pulled it between the two of them, pausing only when his attention was on another yawn that exhaled from his mouth. "The Frog Prince?" Kurt whispered, flipping back over so he could get a better look at the book. Laying his head on Blaines shoulder because he was too tired to hold it up, Kurt pinched himself awake when he started to helplessly doze off, "Well... I dont know. We havent gotten to that chapter yet."

While Kurt pushed pages aside until he got to the next chapter, Blaine twiddled his thumbs, his nervous habit when he couldnt rub his jaw. His hands pathway across his chest was blocked by Kurts body, which laid across his. "Kurt?" Blaine said again, his voice so quiet that he didnt even know if he spoke. But Kurt made a soft sound to let him know that he was listening as he skimmed for the next chapter, so Blaine went on, "Why do you love me?"

At that, Kurt laid the book down and twisted around so he could see Blaines scrunched and wearied face. He lifted a hand up to his cheek and stroked away the crustiness around his cracked lips. "Blaine?" He murmured, and couldnt get out another word before Blaine bellowed.

"Sometimes I feel like a frog." He moaned, the woeful sound making a frown pull Kurts lips down. He kept caressing Blaine, and Blaine threw a hand up to his, clamping down on his fingers so he couldnt move them from an especially sore spot that Blaine had unknowingly gone back to each time he peeled skin away. As Kurt massaged him with a tender touch, Blaine relaxed his firm jaw, instantly relieving some of the pounding pressure in his head. "Sometimes I feel ugly and small. You shouldnt notice me... you should step on me. But you never do."

To Blaines shock, a sweet smile curved Kurts lips, and he peeped, "You are not a frog, dear. Not that frogs arent good... but frogs are very standoffish. And you most certainly do not like being by yourself. Frogs spend all day sticking their tongues out for poor, innocent prey. There is nothing else for them to do but plop in the water when they need to rest. Frogs dont need very much... not even love. You see, they dont stay with their mates for very long at all." Kurts eyes crinkled with amusement at some unknown thought, and he covered his smiling mouth with one light hand, "You are like a porcupine, my beloved. And small doesnt always mean bad. Small can be tough and brave. Small can even be romantic. Porcupines are shy... like you are! They poke up their quills when they feel scared. But when theyre not, theyre searching for love. Porcupines choose their mates by who they love... and who they feel can protect them best." Pressing the tip of his finger to his bottom lip, Kurt tapped it a few times, "Porcupines know how to love, Blaine. And this particular frog does because hes really a human. But... as much as I love love, I dont know why I love you!"

Blaine ducked his head when Kurt tossed his hands apart, giving him a playful grin. Unsure what Kurt meant, Blaine lowered until his entire body was sunken into the mattress, and he started to lift his head when Kurt spoke up again, but he kept himself still. "Ive never thought about why I love you before. When I met you, I felt like I should. There was something about you that made me want to love you... but I still dont know what that is." Tickling the soft spot under Blaines chin with his fingertips, Kurt leaned closer to him, so close that with a pucker of his lips, Blaine could have kissed him. "I love you now, and I dont know why. I just do."

Shrugging his shoulders to show Blaine that he had no more reasons to offer, no answers, no conclusions, Kurt gave him a small smile when Blaine finally let his lips perk up. The two of them nuzzled closer for a warm and lasting kiss, and Blaine felt satisfied, both his mind and body resting in Kurts comfort. For now, he was left with nothing to want for, but Blaine was sure his mind was already scheming up something else for him to worry over. If only Kurts lips werent pressed to his, Blaine might have been bothered by the storm cloud that had gathered in his head and was leaking out another bad rain.

When the two of them pulled apart, Kurt turned back to their book, and he drew it up to their chests. The dim lighting had him running the tip of his nose along the pages in order to make out the words. "Do you want me to read to you?" He mumbled, his voice becoming very slurred as sleepiness overtook him again. With his questions satiated, Blaine was facing similar problems with yawning, his head bobbing and then falling on top of Kurts, which had tilted forward. "One day, the lonely and sheltered princess ventured out into uncharted areas of the kingdom. In her secured life, she knew few people, and those she did rejected her company when they were faced with the scowls of her overbearing parents."

Kurt was obviously too tired to put in his commentary about how sad that was, but he still wrinkled his nose, which made Blaine smile. Kissing Kurts hair, he squeezed him tighter. "She had come to the forest because she knew it would never turn her away, and she peacefully drifted into a deep sleep, the first comfortable sleep shed ever had. While she slept, she went hours completely unaware of the eyes that watched over her from the depths of the pond. And when she was threatened by a slithering snake that meant to bite her, she was saved by a creature half as big as her hand."

Blaine didnt hear the rest of the chapter because Kurts quiet voice drifted off into silence, and he helplessly grinned as he stole the book from Kurts lap and put it aside. He laid Kurt back down on the blankets that were still slightly depressed from when his body had rested there earlier. What little he had heard of the story had him gratified until he could listen to it again, and his questions had been answered better than what he could have hoped. Blaine could sleep easily for the rest of the night because small didnt always mean bad-it could even mean tough and brave.

The babies first birthday had been one of the happiest days for their small, but perfect, family. It was a day in which they celebrated all of the firsts that their little ones accomplished with a confident stride as they walked and talked just like their parents did. As they grew under the smiles of their proud parents who lavished them in kisses and gifts and love, the babies became strong enough to take on the bad of the world that their parents had tried so desperately to keep hidden from them. But, unprepared for the thing that was so unlike his good parents, Hunter had very suddenly and very painfully been stolen from them, and then killed, leaving only Archer to enjoy the party that his parents had put together for his second birthday.

At two years old, Archer was still very small, with the pudgy cheeks he had when he was an infant. As he thought about how Archer was hardly different than the way he looked on the day of his birth two years ago, Kurt was reminded of Hunter, who had drastically changed by the time he turned a year old. The thin cheeks hed had when he was born had sucked in even more as he got older, when his jaw was hardening and his cheekbones were protruding with a startling sharpness. Hunter had quickly gained inches that Archer hadnt, and his lean body had felt very firm to the touch because of how rapidly hed learned to push himself up, and then pull himself to a wobbly standing position that had turned into walking within weeks after hed figured out that he could move his legs back and forth without falling down.

It was Hunter who had taught Archer, who seemed very pleased with himself for being able to wriggle and roll over, how to move his much softer arms and legs so that he could walk, and even better to him, run. Archer hadnt picked up on walking as easily as Hunter did, trying to shuffle his feet and then slipping on the slick floor. Hed often tumble into Blaines arms, which were always waiting to catch him, and hed get frustrated and ball his hands up into fists, but then hed observe Hunter, who watched as his best friend fell again and again. But Hunter never turned away because he was convinced that Archer simply wouldnt learn. Instead, hed encourage him by kneeling across from Blaine and holding his arms out. And, after many more times of stumbling and fumbling and plopping on his bottom, Archer had finally picked his feet up, as hed seen Hunter do before, and hed waddled his way into Hunters arms.

As Kurt remembered Hunter on Archers second birthday, he smiled down at the birthday cake that hed iced in pink and decorated in blue, by Archers request. Hed put two candles above the words, which read, Happy Birthday, Archer! Below those, hed doodled a few hearts and flowers, because Archer loved both of those things very much, but in one of the hearts hed written Hunters name. Whether he was there or not, Kurt still wanted their other baby to be remembered, because this was still his birthday. When he finished the last few swirls and loops, Kurt set the icing aside, then reached for a cloth to wipe his messy hands.

"Archer, darling," he called, spinning on his toes and swishing over to the doorway. Pushing aside the door, Kurt looked over the room for his baby, who he assumed was searching over the boxes and bows that hid his presents from him. To his surprise, Archer wasnt shaking the gifts like a madman, so he tried again, "Archer, are you-?" Kurt pressed his lips together when his eyes passed over the TV, which was showing a very shaky clip of him sitting on the couch with a tiny, baby Archer in his arms. He held a bottle to the babys lips, and he smiled as a line of milky drool slid down his small, dimpled chin. Suddenly, his eyes lifted from the babys sleepy face as he reached for the towel someone off the screen handed to him, and he giggled at whoever was behind the camera.

Tilting his head at the screen, Kurt watched it change to a clip of the babies laying side by side in their crib, both of them babbling up at the odd contraption that was held above their faces. When a hand appeared on the screen and stroked over his curls, Archer hiccupped with excitement, and a toothless grin pulled his lips from ear to ear. After that video, another of his husband popped up, and Kurt helplessly smiled at the smirk on Blaines face as he looked down at Hunter, who was standing on his feet. He held Hunters hands above his head so he didnt fall off of him, and then he reached down and grabbed his sides, making Hunter screech as he was flung onto Blaines shoulders. He tangled his fingers in Blaines curls, needing something to hang onto as he sat high above the ground. Blaine laughed at his baby, wincing when he yanked too hard on his hair, but then he tilted his head back so he could get a kiss from Hunter.

Distracted from the screen when a black blur darted across the room, Kurt shook his head as he focused on Archer, whose curls bounced around him as they settled from his running. Giving his son a weary smile, Kurt watched as he tried to climb onto the couch with Blaine, who had been lounging there. He slid off of the edge, then he stood back and held his arms up for Blaine, who slowly sat up and scooped him onto his lap. Kurt had found his husband like this once before, very recently after theyd found out that Hunter had died. It was late in the night when Kurt had awoken in a fit of shock that the bed was cold because his husbands body wasnt next to him anymore. Urgent to find Blaine because the only times hed ever vanished in the middle of the night were terribly sad memories for Kurt, hed rushed out of his bedroom and had been alarmed by the soft noise of voices downstairs. When hed come down, hed found Blaine resting on his stomach, his half closed eyes unblinking on the TV screen, which played the same old movies that were playing now. Confused as to why his husband had wanted to watch those movies in the middle of the night, Kurt had hesitantly padded over to his side, and hed touched his shoulder when he hadnt moved in acknowledgment of Kurts presence. To Kurts devastation, Blaine had snapped up as if hed been startled from a trance, and hed flung a fist up to Kurts face, but stopped himself when he realized who he was going to hit.

As Kurt drew back because he was scared of being hurt, Blaine had made a horrific sound that Kurt never wanted to hear from his husband, and hed covered his drained and ashy face with his hands. Kurt had quietly asked his husband what was wrong, if he was okay, and hed lowered beside of him and wrapped him in his arms. Blaine hadnt said anything, but he didnt need to when Kurt turned his eyes to the films and saw Hunters smirking face in each of them, that naughty grin that meant that he was about to do something bad. Kurt had always loved that funny smile. Kurt had held his sobbing husband close that night, feeling how absolutely destroyed he was with every weak heartbeat that thudded through his straining body, each muscle rippling and quivering, every cry hoarser than the last. Kurt had laid his damp cheek on Blaines back as he tried to be as close as he could to his husband, feeling the sweat and heat on his bare skin from where his shirt had ridden up with his frantic shaking.

Kurt hadnt lost his husband that night, but in the days that followed, and especially in that moment, hed feared leaving Blaine alone, so hed clung to him in such a needy way that he should have been embarrassed, but couldnt bring himself to be. As long as he kept his husband, Kurt would have done anything and everything in his small power that he silently hoped was enough. And Blaine was still here, but as he watched those movies again, Kurts nearly forgotten concerns whipped through his mind like they had on that awful night, so overwhelming that he had to take a moment to look at Blaines face, which, although very emotionless, wasnt that of a stray man who felt it hopeless to get back to the path he was supposed to be on.

Through his innocent eyes, Archer wasnt able to see that the smile that Blaine put on for him, the same smile he gave to Kurt when he was trying to hide something, didnt crinkle the corners of his damp eyes. Pressing his lips to Blaines jaw, Archer turned up his sparkling, blue eyes to Kurts face, and his lips stretched even farther apart. He grabbed handfuls of air, his dimpled hands opening and closing, so Kurt bent for his son and lifted him from Blaines lap. "Happy birthday, my love." Resting Archer on his hip, Kurt reached down with his other hand and rubbed Blaines shoulder, feeling it slide under his palm as Blaine twisted around. Both of them shared soft grins as Archer sniffed in the direction of the kitchen, and Kurt bounced him a few times, "Do you smell your cake, sweet?" Setting Archer on the floor, Kurt nudged him away when he turned back around and held his arms up again. "Keegan, would you mind taking Archer to the kitchen?"

Keegan, who had been sprawled on the other couch with a book at his nose, as he was often caught because of his yearning to understand any English word he came across in America, raised his blond head, then he scrubbed his hand through his curls, which had fallen across his forehead from the way his head was bent. "Sure." He muttered when he realized that Kurt wanted a moment with his husband, and he got to his feet and patted his thighs. "Come here, Archer. Lets go see your cake!"

At the offer of yummy cake, Archer pranced over to his uncle and leapt into his arms, distracted from his desire to be with his parents. As soon as Keegan pushed open the kitchen door and carried Archer through it, Kurt started to turn back around to his husband, but before he could make the first move, as he always had to do when Blaine shut himself down like this, he felt a calloused hand wrap around his and pull it to a pair of warm, cracked lips. Looking down at the top of his husbands head, which was bent over his knuckles as he kissed every one of them, Kurt stroked Blaines hair with the hand he wasnt holding. "Blaine," Kurt whispered, his voice fading away when Blaine slid their fingers together. Squeezing his hand, Kurt moved around the side of the couch and lowered onto the arm, but Blaine quickly tugged him back so he landed on his lap. Relieved when his husbands strong arms wound around him, Kurt expressed his happiness in the same way Archer had, peppering Blaines cheek in gentle pecks. "Are you okay?" He peeped against Blaines hot skin, feeling his stubble scrape his soft lips as he moved them.

"Yeah," Blaine said, closing his eyes as he bowed over Kurt and rested his forehead on the crown of his head. His strawberry shampoo wafted into his nostrils, and he breathed in deeply so he could fill himself with Kurts sweet scent. "If I have to be." At that last, Kurt made a quiet noise, and he looped his arms around as much of Blaines wide body as he could. "This day is so special to me... you know that I want to be happy for our baby. But... Hunters not turning two..." he choked that out as if hed never said the words before, and then he shook his head. Kurt felt his forehead wrinkle against his, so he reached up to smooth the lines away. "And Archer is... and then hell turn three... and hell be gone, Kurt-"

When Blaine strangled himself on his words, Kurt laid his fingers over his lips to hush him. Realizing he hadnt taken a breath between his past few sentences, he inhaled sharply under Kurts palm, then blew out when he lowered his hand to his chin. As he stared at Kurts slightly furrowed brows and pursed lips, Blaine felt his own face exhaust of worrying, his brows flattening and his lips falling. Dropping his head to Kurts chest, he pointed his nose up to Kurts chin, which brushed his scalp as he turned his head over to the kitchen. He jerked his head in that direction, then he pulled himself back up at the sight of his son, who leaped into the living room with his uncle cautiously trailing after him, a cake balanced in his hands.

Keegan set the cake down on the coffee table, then he knelt to the floor, tugging Archer against his chest when the babys grabby hands got too close to the lit candles. Smiling at his baby as he impatiently batted at the cake, Kurt scooted to the edge of the couch, "Blow out the candles, darling. Make a wish!" He leaned into Blaine when he stirred against him, his arm coming around him and his chin lowering to his shoulder.

Tilting his head at the candles, which made his pale face glow a bright yellow, Archer pushed his cheeks out into small bubbles, and then heaved out all of the air in his lungs. Widening his eyes at the wisp of smoke that appeared where the flame had once been, Archer knew that he had to blurt out a wish before the gray puff of air blew away and the warm cake cooled, so he mumbled the one thing that he wanted more than anything. "I wish that Hunner would come home." As soon as the words were out, Archer silently hoped that his daddy would stand from the couch and go to the door, bringing his Hunner inside, but there was nothing from his parents, not even a blink. Giving his family a despaired face, Archer wordlessly pleaded with them to grant his wish, as they had his every other request hed made of them. But, while his daddy finally shifted his weight from one thigh to the other, and his père lightly laid a hand on his leg in a motion that Archer recognized as a comforting gesture that he didnt understand why his daddy needed, neither of them stood to get the only present that Archer wanted.

Thwarted that yet another day-a very important day, at that-would go by without Hunter there to have fun with him, Archer turned back to the cake and bent over it again, "If he cant, I wish that he would be happy wherever he is." Feeling a soft hand come to his shoulder, Archer leaned back into a silky dress when his père pulled him away from the cake. As he was tenderly stroked, he twisted around and buried his face in a pair of thin legs. He grabbed fistfuls of slippery fabric, needing to hold onto his parents however he could.

"That was a very nice wish, Archer." An airy voice whispered to him, and Archer let out a soft squeak as strong hands grabbed him from under his arms and boosted him up onto a pair of thick thighs. Instantly tucking his head into his daddys stomach, Archer frowned as a piece of cake was offered to him, and he pushed it away. He hid his face in a dark shirt, leaving two ears exposed that picked up the sound of a dejected sigh. "Archer?" His père murmured, and when he didnt make even a sound to let them know that he was listening, light fingertips pressed to his scalp, running through his curly tendrils. "Archer, sweetheart, do you want to open one of your presents? Hunter would have wanted you to have this." Turning his head when a box bumped into his shoulder, Archer stared blankly for a moment, as if unsure of what a present was, and then he took the box from his père and shook it.

Unable to figure out what was within by the vague scraping noise, Archer immediately tore the pink bow off the top, passing it over to his daddy when he held his hand out for it. After he tossed it down to the birds, who had been pacing the floor as they waited for their scraps, he managed a crooked grin at Archers throaty giggle when the birds lunged at their prey and violently shook it in their beaks. As Archer peeled away strips of paper, Blaine tightened his arms around his baby and glanced up at his husband, who was watching Archer with hopeful eyes. Theyd debated what they would get their son for a long time, and of all of the neat toys theyd passed in the stores, it had been an easy decision to give him what they did.

When Archer revealed a brown box, Blaine reached down for it and helped him tear the tape away, then he gave it back to his baby so he could lift the lid. Archer threw the top of the box to the floor, and it almost landed on one of the birds, who squawked indignantly at it. Like the birds, who celebrated the new playground they had to add to the floor that was already covered in balls, ribbons, blocks, and fuzz, a grateful noise burst from Archers mouth, and he gave both of his parents a delighted grin as he gathered up the many pieces of paper. "Hunner!" He cried, kissing the colored sheets before he squeezed them to his chest. "Hunners drawings! I love them!" Pulling the papers away from himself, he eagerly pointed at one of the earlier pictures Hunter had drawn, just a few lines sketched beside of each other. "Do you know what this is? He told me! I remember!" Not giving his parents or uncle a chance to guess, he jabbed a finger at Pavarotti, who was oblivious to the babys attention on him as he threw wrapping paper at the ceiling, then watched with beady eyes as it drifted back down. "Its Pavarotti! Do you see?"

Even though Blaine had originally seen just a few lines, he imagined his son scratching the pencil across the piece of paper as he glanced back and forth between the lines he made to his little bird, trying to capture him in one pose before he flapped away. "I see it, honey." Squeezing his son to his chest, Blaine ducked his head to Archers hair and smothered him in kisses, laughing at his squeals and shrieks. Nothing made Blaine happier than seeing his son appreciate the part of his other son they had left, and while he was relieved that his baby wanted only one thing more than for Hunter to be happy, that his best friend would just come home, he dreaded that the baby he still had would never be happy in his urgency to secure Hunters happiness. What he didnt know was that Hunter could never be happy again.

Karofsky pulled his car down a long road with street lamps that were slowly flickering off as the beams of morning sun cut through the hazy blackness. With crusty sleep gathered in the corners of his eyes, he wasnt able to make out the flashes of light that shone through the cloudy windows, anyway. As he turned onto a narrow road that he could have easily missed because there were no signs to give it away, he sped up so he could get home quicker, making gravel spit under the rolling tires. Because money ran out so quickly when he had a baby to feed and clothe, Karofsky had started taking overnight shifts, and he was especially exhausted after this one because hed been scheduled on the night of a big game. And spending what felt like a long time on his feet, cleaning glasses and hearing the shouts of tipsy men about how bad a fumble was and trying to keep track of how much everyone was drinking so he didnt get fired for sending a man out to get killed in a car accident because he couldnt even see the road, when he would much rather be passed out in his bed, had Karofsky thinking himself insane for ever joining a football team. If he worked any more nights like that, he was going to start hating football.

After he rolled to a stop in his driveway, he lazily climbed from his car and locked the doors behind himself. He made his way up to the door, fumbling for a moment in his back pocket for his key. As he worked his fingers around his wallet, which felt all too thin, he dared a glance around his house, pausing for a moment on the few trees that were gathered in his yard. He wondered where Hunter ran off to each day, but he never went out to find him, as long as he always came back. He knew that intruding on wherever Hunter had made home for himself would only push his baby away all the more, and he couldnt stand to have any more distance forced between him and Hunter. Finally, he found his key and shoved it into the hole, then pushed the door open. A foul whiff of cigarettes hit him in the face, and at the tempting scent that most would find disgusting, he reached into his front pocket for his packet and slipped his lighter and a stick out.

Putting it between his lips, Karofsky drew in a puff of smoke then blew it out as he shed his jacket and hung it on the coatrack. Once his hands were free, he reached up to his cigarette and yanked it out of his mouth, left with the bitter aftertaste. He needed a smoke before he went to bed for a few short hours then rose up again and returned to the bar to work his evening shift. And still, even with his horribly long and dull shifts, Karofsky felt like he wasnt drawing in enough money to get them by until next week. Throwing his wallet and keys onto the counter, he walked over to the kitchen to get a bite to eat since he hadnt gotten anything at the bar. Even with the employee discount, he still couldnt afford a speck of dust that landed on a burger.

He grabbed a leftover piece of pizza from when hed ordered a couple of nights ago from a cheap pizza place a couple of blocks away. Stuffing it into his mouth when he pulled his cigarette away, Karofsky started heading up the stairs so he could strip of his clothes and get some much needed rest, but stopped himself with his foot on the first step because something drew him back over to the window, where brightness was starting to seep through the grime that had collected on the scratched glass. He brought himself to the windowsill and sat down, not that he could fit much of himself onto it, and he raised his brows at a small figure that lugged himself across the lawn. Unaware of where his son had come from, Karofsky watched in perfect silence as Hunter walked across the lawn with a pair of bare, dirty feet that were caked in brown dust and filth. He wore no shirt over his thin chest, revealing a sunken stomach which clung to his ribs.

Karofsky recognized that the months had come around to June, the time of the year which Hunter had been born. If he was right in remembering what Santana had told him, Hunter should have been nearing the age of two, if he wasnt already. Karofsky wished he had asked her the date of his birth, but maybe it was better if he didnt know, that way he felt less guilty about not being able to buy him a birthday party. Instead, he would watch his son grow in private happiness, even though he was slightly worried about Hunters form as he got bigger. For a two year old, Hunter was very lengthy, almost as tall as the middle of Karofskys thigh. And he was very thin, every bone in his chest glaring out at Karofsky. Karofsky wanted to feed him all the foods in the world, if only he could afford to do so.

Wondering what Hunter was doing at the crack of dawn, Karofsky watched him stop beside of one of the taller and thicker trees. He walked a lap around the base, running his hand along the scratchy bark, and then he stopped when he bumped into a sack hed brought out with him. Sitting down beside of the bag, he opened it and pulled out quite a few shirts, most of them worn at the seam and ripped on the sleeves. Without a second of hesitation, Hunter stomped his foot onto the side of one of his shirts, and he grabbed the other side with his hands and tugged. The shirt split down the middle, and Karofsky gasped and started toward the door to stop Hunter because he didnt have the money to just replace ten shirts. But then Hunter snatched up the ruined shirt and twisted it into a stretchy rope, tying off the ends so it didnt come undone. Karofsky paused in his step, furrowing his brows in confusion at what on earth Hunter thought he was doing.

Hunter did the same with the next shirt, wringing it into a few knots and twists, and then he grabbed the first shirt and lined it up with the second. He tied the two of them together, then pulled on the ends to make sure they wouldnt come apart. After tearing apart a few more shirts, he tied all of them together, creating one long rope that was at least as tall as Karofskys chest. Turning around to the tree hed examined earlier, Hunter threw the rope over his shoulder and laid his hands on either side of the trunk. He lifted his feet and clamped the trunk between his thighs, using what little body strength he had to climb the tree, even past the first few limbs that sprung out and made Hunter shift himself around to avoid running into them.

Keeping his eyes on his baby as he went higher and higher, Karofsky smashed his face against the window, carefully keeping track of Hunter. Suddenly, Hunters shadow, which was all Karofsky had left to see as Hunter was swallowed by leaves, paused near the top of the tree, and Karofsky saw a few of the sturdier limbs shake, leaves falling all the way to the ground. Karofsky moved himself to the other side of the window, giving him a wavering view of Hunter as he crawled onto one of the limbs and dragged the rope from his shoulder. When he bent to loop the rope around the branch, it suddenly bent forward, sending Hunter sliding to the very end. One of his legs slipped, and Hunter lost his balance, his butt falling off the thicker end of the branch. Hearing a soft cry that was muffled by the glass that separated them, Karofsky stared at his baby as he swung off the branch, one hand flying up and nearly missing the flimsy wood.

As Hunter dangled helplessly, kicking his feet for anything to put his feet on, Karofsky jerked away from the window, all weariness covered by his own adrenaline to get to his baby. "Hunter!" Karofsky shouted, darting over to the door and throwing it open just as Hunter released the branch, his sweaty fingers sliding off of it. Unable to move fast enough, Karofsky watched in unbelieving shock as Hunter caught a branch a few feet down from the one hed been sitting on, and in his sudden jolt of will to save himself, Hunter thrust the lower half of his body up on the branch, clinging to it as it vibrated beneath him. His little boy took a few seconds to breathe, his chest moving rapidly and his shoulders hunched. When he finally came back to himself, he felt around for his rope, which had gotten hung a few branches above him.

Looking back up, Hunter fearlessly pulled himself onto the branch next to the one hed been on, a much thicker one that could hold his weight. When he finally felt the soft cloth of his shirts, he yanked it free of the limb itd gotten stuck on. Testing it again with a quick snap of his hands, Hunter wrapped one side of the rope around the limb, tying it off, then he did the same with the other. Lowering his brows, Karofsky stepped over to the right, giving him a better view of Hunter as he slid off of the branch and landed in the seat hed made for himself. Shifting his weight from one butt cheek to the other, Hunter finally let go of the branch above him, which would have been the only thing holding him up had his seat collapsed. And, when he was still held suspended in the air, Hunter let a small smile creep onto his lips, and he kicked his feet back and forth, swinging himself high above the ground. Karofsky realized hed made a playground for himself.

Amazed at Hunters innovativeness and bravery, Karofsky leaned back against the door and watched his son for a long time, happily enjoying himself on his swing. He threw his head back and laughed at the clouds, which slowly revealed themselves in the morning light. He had the will to survive, like Karofsky himself did when he was young. Turning away from his son, who had plenty ability to handle himself, Karofsky smiled to himself, knowing that his son was strong like him. And as he thought about their many similarities that Karofsky was seeing over the time he spent with Hunter, he frowned because he realized that he didnt want Hunter to be like him at all, or else hed be damned to live the same dead end life that Karofsky did, completely alone with no one, not even the man he hid away from the dark world, to love him.