“Kurt?” Blaine shifted sleepily, reaching across the bed only to find cool sheets and no Kurt.

“I’m back here. Go back to sleep, honey.”

Blaine, ever obedient, sat up and smiled, seeing Kurt standing at the tower window behind their bed, wrapped up in the duvet, the first glimmers of sunrise shining in and highlighting his hair like a halo. “Can’t you sleep?”

“I slept. Just had a dream. I wanted to rest in it a bit more before losing it again.”

“Tell me?”

“Is it too early to order coffee?” Kurt slipped back into bed, snuggling into Blaine’s open arms with a contented sigh. “Although now that I’m back here, maybe coffee’s a bad idea.”

“Yes. It means waking up. Was it a good dream?”

“I saw Mom and Dad.”

“Oh, Kurt.”

“It’s the first time I’ve seen them together since…” Kurt’s words trailed away – obvious in their truth as he heard himself say them. “And…Maggie was there.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“They were having a picnic. Mom and Dad had their backs to me. She had that damned OSU hat on Adrian mentioned, Blaine.”

“Did they see you?”

“Maggie did. She waved. Smiled. She is stunning.”

“Yes. She is. Was. Is. Hell. She keeps showing up in everyone’s dreams, I don’t even know what to think anymore.”

“She waved and I started to approach, but she told me no, just like my dreams as a kid – like Adrian's now. They never saw me. But, they were holding hands and Mom took dad’s hat off and kissed the top of…” Kurt choked on his words, tears breaking through as he folded into Blaine’s arms, into the bed, into the sheets, physical pain coursing through his body all over again.

“Oh, sweetheart…” Blaine held on until Kurt’s sobs stilled, a quick rush of emotion compared to the long, draining spells he’d had in weeks past.

Kurt sniffed and snorted his way out of his breakdown, apologizing until finally he could speak semi-normally again, sitting up to look over the top of the ornate headboard in their room at the sun, slowly rising in the bleak autumn sky.

“It hurts less over time, right?”

“I’ve found that it hurts the same, but less frequently.”

“It’s still like a knife. A sword. Serrated.”

“I guess the serrations smooth down over time. Not quite as rough.”

“That’s good. This feels so different from when I lost Mom.”

“You’re not an eight-year-old anymore.” Blaine thumbed off the wet streaks of tears from Kurt’s cheeks, leaning over to kiss his forehead. “Anything else happen in the dream?”

“Yes. She kissed the top of his head and he giggled. He giggled, Blaine. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve heard that? A real, true from the tippy top of his bald head giggle?”

“How lucky you got to hear it again.”

“I wonder if she still smells the same.”

“Well, if she’s been hanging around Maggie too long, she smells like patchouli.”

Kurt laughed and wondered aloud, “I’m thinking Dad wouldn’t stand for that. Maybe he brought in some motor oil to balance it all out.”

“Mmmm, then they probably wouldn't be picnicking together. She was always burning something. Candles, wax…what’d she call them? Wax…tarts? Wax tarts, whatever the hell they were. Incense, of course and then massage oils when she was hurting. Sometimes the incense would make her sick, but there was always something making the place smell…like Maggie.”

Kurt smiled, remembering how healthy and vibrant Maggie was in his dream. “She’s not sick anymore, Blaine.”

“No. Your dad’s not either.”

“I just wish I could have seen Mom’s face. Do you age…wherever they are?”

Blaine pulled Kurt down into the bed with him, cocooning them into the covers, burrowing into the pillows. “I should hope not. Maggie got her hair back, your dad got his giggle back…”

“Mom got the love of her life back. It all sort of makes death not such a scary thing.”

“True.” Blaine pulled Kurt even closer, tucking his head into his neck, their legs sliding together until they found just the right position. “But, I’m not ready yet. Life is just entirely too good right now.”

***

Lima City Medic 2 to County Dispatch. Heading back to the station. Time out: 13:28

County Dispatch copy.

Anderson to Medic 2. Can you guys grab some chips on the way back in?

Medic 2 to Anderson. Copy. What brand, sir?

Parker’s asking for them, so it better be Conn’s or he’ll birth a small farm animal.

Medic 2 to Anderson. Copy. Conn’s potato chips for Captain Parker. Out.

Kurt sat alone in the C-DRT offices and cackled, hoping no one would come in lest they think he’d lost his fool head. Idiots. The men at Lima City fire were a bunch of adorable idiots.

Kurt [12-15-23 13:30]: Tell Captain Parker his taste in chips sucks.

Blaine [12:15-23 1:35]: What? Did you…oh shit. That went to county?

Kurt [12-15-23 13:36]: No, I’m just telepathic.

Blaine [12-15-23 1:39]: Fucking hell. I’m surprised Sheriff’s office hasn’t called to torment me already.

Kurt [12-15-23 13:40]: It’s soon yet. Give him time. And really, do you gentlemen need chips?

Blaine [12-15-23 1:41]: We do. A chip-less firehouse is an inefficient firehouse.

Kurt [12-15-23 13:42]: Do you have enough dip?

Kurt snickered again after a long silence, when he heard:

Anderson to Medic 2. Don’t forget the French Onion dip. Out.

Medic 2 to Anderson. Copy that.

Kurt [12-15-23 13:49]: You know that went on county again, right?

Blaine [12-15-23 1:50]: That was just for you, babe.

Kurt [12-15-23 13:52]: And you actually ran down and checked to see if you needed it, didn’t you?

Blaine [12-15-23 1:53]: Yes. Shut up. You’re coming over to help me pack Adrian, right?

Kurt [12:15-23 13:53]: Yes. Did he sleep better last night?

Blaine [12-15-23 1:54]: He didn’t come bug me anyway. I hope he doesn’t end up disappointed. He’s worked himself into a tizzy about the Umpire State Building and Lion King and the Cinderella carriages and the lights and…

Kurt [12-15-23 13:55]: Yeah, we need to kill the Empire State Building romance. The line will be hours long this time of year. Unless you’re in the mood to take him, it’s not happening.

Blaine [12-15-23 1:56]: It’s not happening.

Emergency signals broke through the droning static of the dispatch radio, pausing their texting plan-making.

County Dispatch to Lima City Fire. Lima City Fire. We have a residential structure fire at 1572 N. Elizabeth St. Repeat, residential structure fire at 1572 N. Elizabeth St. Call time 13:57.

Blaine [12-15-23 1:57]: See you there?

Kurt [12-15-23 13:58]: Sounds like it. Be careful. I love you.

Kurt was dispatched about an hour later and after meeting Mandy, his volunteer, they headed to the fire, already looking pretty well under control. Kurt notified dispatch they had arrived and argued with the back stairs of the truck, jumping over a few puddles and hoses to get to the chief.

His chief.

His Blaine.

He decided about three fires ago that he really never wanted to get used to the giddy feeling that washed through him whenever he’d pull up to a fire and Blaine would be standing there in his turnout and white helmet, looking so official and heroic and yet underneath it all he was just…Blaine.

The man who filled all the empty spaces in his life.

“Hey. Wha’do we have?”

“Hey, love. Space heater, dry Christmas tree. Typical stuff. Family of four. Mom and Dad are sitting on the porch next door. We’re about done – you’ll assess after we leave?”

“Yep, if you okay it.”Kurt ducked under Blaine’s helmet and kissed his cheek. “You went in again, didn’t you?”

“Just inside the entryway. How’d you kn-…?” And then he saw it – a perfectly round dot of ash on the center of Kurt’s nose. “C’mere, stud.” Blaine pulled off his work gloves and licked his thumb, wiping it off. “You’re making me lose my staid professionalism, Mr. Hummel. Maybe you should go speak with the family.”

“Maybe I should. See you at home?”

“Home.” Blaine wiggled his hand back into his glove and grinned, tipping his helmet as he headed back to the house to assess before shutting down. “I really like the sound of that.”

***

Flying with a five year old, Kurt learned, was an adventure in exhaustion he wasn’t sure he really could have ever imagined. There was the jabbering all the way to the Dayton Airport. And the jabbering from the car to check-in to security to boarding. And then the charming, wooing and nauseatingly enrapturing of the flight attendants by his incessant jabbering jabbering. Finally there was the take-off jabbering – oh my goodness that was so much fun; when can we do it again? – and the in-the-air jabbering – Kurt! Daddy! Look! It was cloudy and now we’re in sunshine. It’s like magic! – and of course, the landing jabbering – my ears are popping even though I have gum. I think I need more gum. I don’t like landing at all. Are we on the grou-OH! I guess we landed. Well, that’s good because I don’t like the landing part so much. And, as they pulled up to Kenmare Square, the jabbering stopped because now. Now that they had to go inside, carry in their luggage and basically function, the little shit was sound asleep.

He was asleep until it was time to charm, woo and enrapture the receptionist, at which point he bolted up out of Kurt’s arms and put on his best five year old gallantry.

“You know, I think I might be able to tolerate the Umpire State Building lines if we had a promise that we could leave him there and no one would arrest us.”

“Hey now. He’s our free ticket onto Santa’s lap.”

Kurt hiked Adrian back up onto his hip and side-eyed Blaine as they stepped into the elevator. “There is so much wrong with what you just said, I don’t even know where to start.”

“You’ve lost your inner child, Kurt. And during the holidays. I’m very disappointed.”

“I don’t need an inner child. Seems I have an outer child right here, currently falling back to sleep and drooling on my Louis Vuitton overcoat.”

“Merry Christmas!” Blaine cheesed a grin and kissed Kurt’s cheek, taking his hand and walking them to their apartment for the next five days.

And really, the next five days were pretty spectacular. They took Adrian to the Holiday Windows Walk where he did jabber incessantly, but it was with such color and imagination and excitement that only Scrooge would protest. Adrian was even sufficiently proud of the fact that while Kurt hadn’t worked on the Barney’s windows this year because he lived in Ohio, he had helped them out in the past and promised to show Adrian pictures when they got back home.

They went to Rockefeller Center to see the tree and Adrian, unexpectedly, became enamored with the ice skaters, so the next day after Kurt’s meetings at Jacobs, they went to Willman Rink in Central Park and strapped on their own ice skates to, as Kurt propheted, show-em-how-it’s-done. Only, Kurt was the only one who really knew how to ice skate and it was more a comedy show than a competition, but they had fun anyway. And, the hot chocolate at Kurt’s favorite West Village coffee shop made all the hip bruises feel much better.

The third day was a special one because they went to the New York City Fire Museum where members of the Fire Department of New York rescued Santa from the roof and then they all enjoyed a party with him. Kurt thought that Adrian might, if given one more cookie, become the first exploding child simply from the combination of sugar and joy. And, when he got to tell Santa that his daddy was a fireman? Better yet, the Chief? Well. His hair almost straightened.

That evening, they had tickets to see Lion King, so they ventured out to Times Square early to grab a quick bite and let the kid soak up some real tourist night life. They sat on the ruby stairs, close to where Kurt and Blaine sat only a few months before, and let him dance around, then sit to contemplate life’s larger questions and then dance around some more, hopefully getting all the jumpiness out of him before the show.

When it seems he had jumped around for his final round, he snuggled between Kurt and Blaine and sighed a very adult sigh, looking up and out and about. And then his body stiffened and he tugged on both of their coat sleeves. “Daddy? Kurt? Is…oh my goodness.”

“What’s up, buddy?” Blaine reached around and pulled both of them closer to warm up.

“It was a sunny day, right?”

“Yes. It’s supposed to be pretty our whole trip, why?”

“Well. Hrm.” He pointed up to the black sky and sighed. “I just…Kurt? Are there stars in New York? Because…I don’t see any.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Kurt looked to Blaine for a little support and it appeared it was only going to come in the form of a faint smile. “Look back down at the street.”

Adrian did and huffed. “So?”

“See all these lights? This whole city lights up like this. All night long. It’s never dark down here. Maybe in small pockets but because there’s so much light down here, it sort of drowns out the light the stars give.”

Adrian pursed his lips and thought about that for a few moments, looking up at the sky and then back down, squeezing his eyes tight and trying the sky again, only to huff and try it again. “You know, Kurt. I’m not so sure I like New York City so much after all.”

“The stars are still there, Ade. They are. Mommy’s star and Lizzie’s star. Burt’s star. They’re there. We just can’t see them here, that’s all.”

“Well. I don’t like that. And I’m ready to go inside now so I don’t have to think about it anymore.”

And so they left the stairs and went to the theater and in short order, Adrian forgot all about the stars and the lights outside and everything in the entire world except the beautiful magic happening right in front of him. In fact, Kurt wondered more than once, if both he and Blaine had forgotten how to breathe they were so enamored and swirled up in the pageantry and beauty of The Lion King. As he tucked Adrian in for the night, finally exhausted after 14 rehashes of his favorite parts – which amounted to the entire show – Kurt had an idea.

“Change of plans for tomorrow night, do you mind?” Kurt stepped into the space between Blaine and the counter, interrupting a very serious pre-bedtime wine pouring and swung him around the apartment in a lazy dance as they spoke.

“I don’t mind at all. What’s the plan, Beautiful?”

“We’re going to the stars.”

***

After their string of daytime activities, the trio made their way uptown to Columbia University and the Pupin Physics Laboratory where they periodically held public stargazing events, allowing average people to use their well beyond average equipment to see the great beyond. Or, in this case, the stars. They had to sit through a short lecture and Adrian was the youngest person there, giving the students and employees staffing the event a bit of unnecessary agita, but once he got to a telescope, a monster sized telescope, oh my goodness!, he followed every direction and got his first peek.

And then all the jabbering. All the yakking. All the explanations and rehashing and questioning and noisy Adrian-ness that had littered their stay was gone. With one huge gasp of air, Adrian no longer had any words to say because now.

He could see the stars.

Millions upon millions of stars. Bright stars and dull stars. Steady shiners and flickering beams. So many stars that the constellations became almost impossible to pick out even though he was still new to those. Kurt and Blaine waited their turns on neighboring telescopes and when all three of them were looking at the same time, Adrian’s wonder turned to his stars. Their stars.

“How can I even find Mommy’s now?”

“You can…you’ll know her star above all the others.”

And so he decided. And then he found Lizzie and Burt’s and he was done. He was happy.

“You were right, Kurt. They’re there even when we can’t see them!”

“All the time, buddy. Anywhere you go. Any time of day.”

And that night, when Kurt and Blaine tucked him in, Adrian asked again for what he now called his poem. His laughing stars poem.

Quand tu regarderas le ciel, la nuit, puisque j'habiterai dans l'une d'elles, puisque je rirai dans l'une d'elles, alors ce sera pour toi comme si riaient toutes les étoiles.

“I changed my mind about New York City. I think it’s pretty magical.”

As he snuggled deeper into his bed, Kurt and Blaine exchanged glance, sweet but tinged with worry. They’d decided not to tell him yet that Kurt will leave. That they might go with him. Or that they might not. Because they hadn’t decided. Because they were having a hard enough time coming to terms with it all. Because Kurt wanted to give them all the space necessary to think. And to plan. And to calculate and to fact the situation into submission.

Because right now? They had this. And this was pretty impossibly perfect.

“Je t'aime, Kurt. Je t'aime, Daddy.”

“Je t'aime, Adrian.”