Chapter Thirty-Two

"I've been telling you about this trip for weeks, Blaine," Kurt said shortly, zipping his garment bag up around a few of his suits. He turned back to the other man. "Months, actually. They've been planning this trip for me since just after the promotion. I told you about it then, and I've reminded you at least fifteen times in the past two weeks alone."

Blaine folded his arms across his chest. If he thought back really hard, he was sure that Kurt was most likely right. There were probably dozens of times Kurt mentioned the trip since November, and that was easily three months ago. But right now, he felt nothing but a stab of annoyance.

"So... you can't come," came his equally clipped response.

"No," Kurt said, and he looked genuinely apologetic. "This is so important, Blaine. You know that. If I make a good impression, our website could get national attention. Hell, maybe even worldwide. At the very least, it would open the door to it. I need to get this right." He sighed. "If you wanted me at Ella's parent-teacher conference so badly, you should have rescheduled it a month ago when you got the email in the first place. Now it's too late, and there's nothing I can do."

"This is important, too, Kurt," Blaine insisted. "They asked for both parents or guardians to be there for—"

"I'm not even her guardian, Blaine!" Kurt snapped. He stared at the blank expression frozen on Blaine's face. Instantly Kurt felt a pang of guilt at his words. He swallowed thickly. "I... I mean, I love her like she's mine, Blaine, but... realistically? I'm nothing to her. You know that." He let out a nervous sort of laugh. "It's not like—" He broke off, taking his lip between his teeth and hoping that Blaine might ignore his last half-statement.

He wasn't so lucky.

"It's not like what, Kurt?" he pressed on, and his tone was still angry. "Go on, then. What?"

"It's not like we're married," Kurt said, his voice tiny, his eyes unable to meet Blaine's.

There was a moment of silence. "You're right," Blaine said at last, and his voice was so devoid of emotion that it worried Kurt slightly. "Legally, you're not anything to her. But I thought you of all people would understand the importance and meaning of an unconventional family. I guess I was wrong."

"Blaine—"

"You're going to miss your flight if you don't head out now," Blaine said coolly.

Kurt nodded once and took his bags and walked out of the room. Less than five minutes alter, Blaine heard the front door close. Immediately he felt a sickening feeling of guilt and loss.

He was too harsh. He knew that. He was blowing things out of proportion and Kurt had told him repeatedly about the business trip. And, he reminded himself, it wasn't as though this was a regular thing. He sometimes wondered if he were to sit down and tally it up, he'd find out that Kurt was there for Ella more than he was.

Maybe that was why it bothered him. Blaine hated the sensation of stumbling through this whole "parenting" thing. Luckily, Kurt had come into his and Ella's lives at the perfect moment. He was more help than Blaine liked to admit sometimes. He was that assurance Blaine needed. Kurt was such a natural father, and Blaine hated that he wasn't.

And then, how many times had Kurt reassured him about that? That he was doing a magnificent job, that most of what he himself possessed in the parenting department was learned, practiced, and perfected skill, not natural-born talent.

God, why had he been so hard on Kurt? He bit his lip as he sat down on their bed, wringing his hands slightly. He quickly snatched up his phone, tapping away the hurried text message.

'I'm sorry. I love you.'

He waited a few anxious minutes before checking his phone again, clicking the message he'd sent.

There, in tiny letters, it read, "DELIVERED: NO". He cursed under his breath, realizing that Kurt had already switched his phone off for the flight. That meant a minimum of two hours for a response, assuming there were no delays and Kurt turned his phone back on the moment he touched down in Boston.

Blaine sighed as he switched off the bedroom lamp and pressed his face into his pillow, settling himself for what was sure to be a sleepless night.

Blaine awoke the next morning to find himself hopelessly clutching onto Kurt's pillow. He blinked confusedly in the bright Monday morning light for a moment before remembering his situation. Immediately he reached over to the bedside table, groping around for his phone, not even bothering to put on his glasses.

2 NEW TEXT MESSAGES.

He hurriedly clicked to view them.

'I know. Me too.'

He quickly clicked to view the next one.

'Just got in. I'll call the first chance I get, and I'll see you Wednesday morning.'

He frowned slightly. It wasn't anything negative, sure, but still. He looked at the time stamp. 3:48 AM. Well, that made it more understandable. He knew Kurt was already struggling with constant exhaustion. Getting in so late... it wasn't Kurt being angry or hurt. He took a deep breath and got up. Time to get on with his day.

He managed to get Ella and Aiden up, ready, and to school without any incident. Even though it was purely out of hope, he kept his phone on the entire school day, should Kurt have the chance to call.

He didn't. Blaine knew it was silly to hope.

At 2:45, he packed up his things and headed to the elementary school. Within fifteen minutes, he had left Ella and Aiden in the gymnasium with the rest of the after school children, a few of the teachers' aids watching after them.

"Behave?" he requested quietly and Ella and Aiden both nodded quickly. He gave them both swift kisses to the forehead before making his way down the hallway to sit outside of Ella's classroom. Within a matter of minutes, a young brunette woman waved him inside.

He closed the classroom door behind himself, looking at the two young women who were standing before him.

"Mr. Anderson, I'm Mrs. Wells, and this is Miss Brady, our aide," said the slightly older woman with blond hair and glasses.

"Right, it's nice to meet you," he said quickly, shaking each of their hands in turn. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to meet with you earlier in the year."

"It's not a problem," Miss Brady quickly chimed in.

"We know most of our students' parents work," Mrs. Wells said. "I understand that you teach at the middle school?" Blaine nodded. "I heard that this year our conferences were poorly timed with yours. That probably didn't help. Anyway, go ahead and sit down." She motioned to the almost comically small chairs. Blaine seated himself awkwardly in the yellow plastic chair, as did the two women.

"This won't take long," Miss Brady assured him. "Usually, with students as wonderful as Ella, we don't have much to say. It usually boils down to concerns we have."

Blaine nodded. "Well, it's good to hear that she's done nothing bad."

Mrs. Wells nodded. "I heard that last year she had some problems with bullying," she said. "Because of..."

"My sexuality," Blaine said tightly, shifting uncomfortably. There was an awkward moment of silence, and Blaine cleared his throat. "She's... better now, though?"

"She's wonderful," Miss Brady quickly told him. "She's very well-adjusted, considering where she was just two years ago, with the loss of her parents."

Blaine nodded at this. "That's great to hear."

"I suppose your husband couldn't make it?"

Blaine stared blankly at the woman. "I'm sorry?"

"Ella's always talking about her Uncle Kurt," Mrs. Wells explained. "We were rather looking forward to putting a face to his name, as well."

"Kurt," Blaine repeated lamely. "We're uh... we're not married."

"Oh," Miss Brady responded. "I'm sorry, we just assumed—"

"No, it's fine—"

"Mr. Anderson?"

The three turned to see the young man entering the room, looking a little frantic. "Yes?" Blaine responded, thankful for the interruption.

"You're Ella's guardian?" he asked, and immediately he was on his feet.

"What happened?"

"You need to come quick," he urged him. "She's having trouble breathing, and—"

Blaine was running before he could finish his sentence. He was in the gym in seconds, pushing past the teachers and students that were circled around his niece.

"Ella?" he asked, brushing the girl's hair out of her face as he heard her gasping and wheezing. "Ella, sweetie, just breathe... nice and slow..." He turned to one of the teachers near him. "What happened?"

"I think it's an asthma attack," the woman quickly explained. "Mr. Leech called an ambulance, they should be here any moment."

"Come on, baby," Blaine cooed, turning his attention back to Ella. "Just relax, sweetie."

It was a blur as the paramedics came, putting Ella in the back of the ambulance with Blaine, who was holding Aiden tightly in his arms. They were quickly rattling off facts to him, giving him information about what was happening and what they were doing, but none of it was making sense. Nothing was making sense.

"She's going to be just fine," one of them told him eventually, once they were in a pediatric ward, Ella's breathing slow and steady, and she was talking to the doctor about what had happened. "My son has asthma, too. It's scary, but... as long as you're careful with it, she'll be healthy and fine and normal."

Blaine nodded vaguely, still clutching onto Aiden a little too tightly to be comfortable. Aiden didn't object, however, and so Blaine made no move to let him go.

"Mr. Anderson?"

Blaine looked up at the doctor, and entered the room, watching as Ella was smiling, swinging her legs over the end of the table. He was amazed at how she was suddenly so fine, when just a half hour ago, she was struggling to get a single breath.

The doctor smiled at him, handing him a small box. "It's an albuterol inhaler," he explained to Blaine. "Ella does in fact have sports-induced asthma, so that's to be taken as needed. Just before she does any running or anything like that, make sure she takes two puffs. The same can be done when she has an attack. And I've showed her the right way to do it. She's got the technique down great."

Blaine nodded again. "Thank you," he said weakly. "She's fine now?"

"She's prefect," he assured him. "Just need you to sign a few forms and you're good to go. I'll find a nurse, and she'll get them for you and get you signed out."

Thirty minutes later, the three were at home again, Ella and Aiden sitting down to a movie in the living room. Blaine watched them from the hall, pulling his phone out of his pocket and licking his lips. Kurt was busy. He knew that, but... fuck it, he couldn't stand the thought of not talking to him right now. He still felt as though his heart hadn't settled to a regular rate since the entire ordeal, and all he wanted was one ounce of comfort from the man he loved.

He clicked on Kurt's contact information, and sent the call. It rang only twice.

"Hey," came Kurt's voice, in a sort of breathy sigh. Just that was enough to almost send Blaine over the edge, and he took a deep shuddering breath, turning into the entrance hallway of the house, leaning against the front door. "I'm sorry I had't called yet." He took in a few more unsteady breaths, and this time Kurt caught them. "Honey, are you all right?"

"No," came Blaine's answer. "I'm so sorry I fought with you. You're just so much better at all this parenting stuff. You would have known what to do today, you would have kept your head—"

"Hey, hey," Kurt quickly cooed. "Slow down. What happened?"

Blaine took a deep, steadying breath. "Ella had an asthma attack and I just—god, Kurt, I was so scared, and—I mean, I know this isn't her first trip to the hospital, but—she wasn't breathing—I thought—I thought that—"

"And you think I would have handled something like that well?" Kurt asked him softly. "Do you not remember the sort of wreck I was when Aiden had to have his appendix removed?" He sighed. "Honey, you're fine. You can't always beat yourself up over these things. They're out of your control, and you are a wonderful guardian to Ella. I'll keep telling you that until you believe it."

Blaine was quiet for a long while, trying to clear his head once again. "I just wish you were here."

He listened as Kurt took in a deep breath. "Go on, then," he said. "Open the door."

Blaine blinked for a few moments, then turned peering out the front window, where he saw Kurt stepping out of his car. He quickly fumbled with the lock, opening the door and staring at the brunette man as he hung up his phone and slowly made his way to the porch.

"How did you—"

"The moment I got the Boston, I realized that the place I really should be was the one I'd just left," Kurt told him.

"You just sort of quoted Harry Potter, you know," Blaine told him in a small voice. Kurt rolled his eyes at this, a faint grin on his face.

"Sometimes you are the most ridiculous person on the face of the planet," he told him.

"How did you get out of your meeting?" Blaine asked him.

Kurt shrugged. "I was at lunch with the two women I was meeting with, and one of them asked why I wouldn't eat," he told Blaine. "I mentioned I was worried because I left things a little poorly at home. They insisted I leave on the next plane to Ohio."

"Is that..."

"It was a good thing," Kurt assured him. "They liked me, and they were so insistent that they didn't want to cause problems. They respected how much I cared about my little unconventional family and how much I wanted to set things right with you."

Blaine pulled Kurt in close to him, kissing him harshly on the mouth. "I'm sorry," he murmured when he drew back.

"Me too," Kurt told him. "I love you. I'm sorry I wasn't here with you today."

"You're here now," Blaine responded, pressing his forehead into Kurt's neck as the brunette rubbed his back softly, in slow, calming circles. He reveled in the sensation of just how immensely calming it all was. "That's what matters."