Kurt twiddles with his thumbs as he looks all around the general office of the Lima Autism Center. It's certainly not the best of designs when polished, abstract art framed with gilded corners are alternated with crayon drawings of real and fantastical living creatures. Yet, it's strangely calming, like it fits this place perfectly. Kurt squints a little and chuckles at a picture of a broccoli tree with gummy bears sitting on its branches, all decked out in Crayola glory.

"Jamie?" Kurt asks softly, once he has noticed the artist's name. "Do you know a girl called Brittany?"

Jamie doesn't answer him; she's busy mumbling to herself and twitching her fingers against the seat. Kurt's not sure how well Blaine's prep would be for her – he's been prepping her since last night, from their house all the way to the LAC, about how Kurt will be coming to the LAC with them today, and how she needs to wait in the general office with him for a while and she will be going to a new place. From her rather lukewarm response, Kurt can't quite tell if it's because she can't quite comprehend yet, or that she doesn't care.

He chooses not to think too much.

Blaine comes out from the staff room entrance, his lips tightly pressed together. Kurt gives him a questioning look, but he only shrugs and walks over to sit on the other side of Jamie.

"I feel like we're here to see the doctor," mutters Kurt.

"I told Sue to her face that she should have known better," says Blaine. "I had the whole prep-her-one-week-in-advance thing planned out. Even Quinn Fabray knew how to prep Jamie way in advance of her move to the LAC so that she could remind her steadily every day. To spring this on us and expect us to prep her in a day? That's just ridiculous and uncalled for!"

"At least we're doing it at the Centre, where many more people can help if anything... " Kurt hesitates. "You know, if anything goes wrong."

"Yeah," says Blaine, staring at his hands. "I've got Mike and Emma on standby. Santana needs to work an extra hour with Brittany today."

Kurt's gaze travels to the painting on the wall again. "I thought Santana said she doesn't specialize in dealing with – oh," it dawns upon him, and he feels incredibly silly for assuming, "Brittany's not a kid, is she?"

Blaine chuckles humorlessly. "No, but she can be more perceptive than any adult."

Kurt looks back at Jamie and starts to comb her hair with his fingers.

"Jamie?" Blaine grabs both Kurt and Jamie's attention with his smooth but firm voice. "Show me listening ears."

Jamie automatically puts her hands behind her ears, even though her eyes keep darting to the side instead of focusing on Blaine.

"And eyes on me," says Blaine.

Once he has gotten Jamie's full attention, he takes a deep breath and says, "Jamie, do you remember, we are going to meet a new friend?"

"Yes," says Jamie.

"The new friend is a friend of all of us," he gestures to Kurt and himself, "and she's very nice."

"You already know who it is?" Kurt whispers.

"I know it's a lady," Blaine whispers back, then he shows Jamie a visual that he had drawn and shown her earlier. There is a checkbox where Jamie has ticked 'okay' with regards to her meeting the new friend. He has now added a new set of instructions involving the fact that Kurt and Blaine are busy and cannot take care of Jamie anymore. This is followed by two options – one says 'Jamie stays at LAC, alone.' and 'Jamie stays at LAC, with new friend'.

Kurt feels the back of his throat constrict as he listens to Blaine explain slowly, but firmly, how they can't be taking care of Jamie anymore. After all, that was the whole point in the first place. They justcan't. It would take a toll on them, and there would be the thick, lingering tension in the air that Kurt hates.

Yet, it feels like a lie at the same time.

Blaine gently hands over the blunt pencil (he is obviously prepared for another pencil-stabbing moment) and gestures to the two checkboxes on the paper. "Jamie, please choose."

It's emotional manipulation, Kurt thinks bitterly. It seems like they get choices, but the choices have been rigged because 'normal' people frame things the way they hope to see it go. It makes him think of how Kewell always tries to sell his ideas, or his protégés' ideas through the logical business angle, as opposed to Levington's usual take on spontaneity and creativity, and somehow, that will obviously get him what he wants because nobody dares to really argue against profits.

Blaine's the best at the LAC in terms of empowerment, but even he can't run away from diminishing the individual's capacity for discernment and self-responsibility.

Jamie doesn't take the pencil. She stares at Blaine impassively instead.

"Jamie," coaxes Blaine, but Jamie's hands remain firmly planted on the seat. She swerves her head a little to look at Kurt, who directs her towards the paper.

"It's Math now," announces Jamie, loudly. "Math time."

Blaine flips the paper around, where he has previously shown her a revised timetable. "It's okay, Jamie. Look at the date. Today you have a special timetable, remember?"

Jamie trails her finger against the block that now says 'Time at School Office'. Then she lets her finger drop and she looks elsewhere.

"What does that even mean?" Kurt wonders aloud, but Blaine has no time to respond because the Lima Autism Center's principal, Sue Sylvester, struts her way out of her office to stare at the both of them. Kurt has seen her before, but the imposing figure in a one-colored tracksuit, sharp cheekbones and a death glare never fails to make him swallow hard.

"In my office," she says, even though it comes out more like a snarl.

Blaine takes Jamie's hand and leads her – she waves her empty hand at Kurt, who takes it gently and both of them walk her into Sue's office.

"Well, well, if it isn't young Burt Reynolds' dough-faced boy," says Sue, once they're seated, prompting Blaine to make a frustrated noise and Kurt's eyebrows to shoot up. "How's the American dream working out for you two?"

"Miss Sylvester," says Blaine, clearly annoyed. "I've already said my piece earlier. You said you'd like to give this piece of information to us both. Please get to the point."

"Which is," adds Kurt, "who is the handler?"

"Her name is Shelby Corcoran," says Sue, "A talent manager from L.A., she's recently decided to reside in Lima for personal reasons... and she'd like this part-time job till she manages to settle whatever personal stuff she has."

Kurt can't believe his ears. "You mean, she's going to up and leave anytime she finishes her 'personal stuff'?"

"As long as she's willing to take the job, I'd be happy to meet whatever arrangements she has," says Sue, putting on her spectacles. "Now to move on..."

"Which could be, like, as short as a week?" Kurt exchanges unhappy looks with Blaine. "Miss Sylvester, this doesn't –"

"Well, I'm taking Jamie off your hands," says Sue, in a clipped tone. "It doesn't really matter, does it?"

"Of course it does!" Kurt retorts. "We can't let Jamie have so many changes in routine!"

"I want to go to Math class!" wails Jamie.

"Wish all the normal kids in the world could say the same!" quips Sue.

"Miss Sylvester, couldn't you have found a more permanent candidate?" asks Blaine, putting his arm around Jamie to calm her down.

"It's not so easy finding people who are willing to dedicate half their days and most of their nights to be handlers for autistic kids, as I'm sureyou twowould understand after what you've been through for just two weeks or so," snaps Sue, and Kurt and Blaine instinctively lean back.

"Jamie's the first young kid who needs to stay over here that we've had to work with, so I'd appreciate the cooperation from both of you instead of trying to work out your alpha gay issues here!"

"Wh-" Kurt shakes his head. "Do we even get to meet Miss Corcoran?"

"She's coming in the afternoon," says Sue. "Now as I was saying –"

"Math!" Jamie shouts, and everyone turns to look at her. Blaine immediately fishes out the paper with all the choices written down, but Jamie is already squirming out of her seat. "Math class!"

"I'll go and get Emma," says Kurt, at once.

"No, no, it's Marley I need here," says Blaine, as he struggles to hold onto Jamie. "Of all people, I forgot to ask – Miss Sylvester, could you please call Marley over?"

"Jamie needs to learn," says Sue, frowning. "If you have already done all the necessary preparation –"

Kurt can already sense that Jamie is not going to listen to reason right now. She has been listening to it all day long and it's clear to him that she isn't taking in much. "I think we've doneenoughpreparation. Now we just need to calm her down. Who's Marley?"

Sue glares at them both, then finally picks up the phone.

"Jamie –" Blaine begins, but he can't quite continue. Jamie is now getting so agitated that she's starting to kick out once more, and the sight of it makes Kurt's insides clench. He quickly moves away the chairs so that Blaine can tilt Jamie towards the empty space and let her kick out.

Kurt takes the timetable from Blaine and tries to direct it at Jamie. He begins to explain, but it doesn't work because Jamie is suddenly thrashing about madly. Even Sue has to come over to attempt to help.

"Oh man..." gasps Blaine, as he tries to hold her still, but he loses his grip. "We need to get her to the Soft Room!"

"Soft Room?" Kurt can't help asking, even as he reaches out to help hold onto Jamie. Instead, he nearly gets kicked in the face and stumbles back. It triggers an immediate flashback to Jamie's severe meltdown back at home and he has a hard time swallowing that back down again.

"It's a cushioned room," snaps Sue, already heading towards the door. "Alright, hurry!"

But before they can hurry out, Blaine lets out a cry and Kurt watches in horror as Jamie slips out of Blaine's grasp. All of them attempt to grab onto her, but Jamie has already hit the floor with a thud.

"Oh my God!" yells Blaine, as he quickly helps Jamie up, whose crying and screaming has increased tenfold. "Her head!"

"We need to get her to a hospital,stat!" Kurt grits his teeth when he brings his hand to rub Jamie's head and it comes away slightly bloody.
"Ohhhh fu–"

A young lady comes into the room amidst the commotion and gasps loudly. "Oh my, Jamie!"

Right now, Kurt can't just believe that he is in the presence of special need professionals.

"Can we just get her to the hospital NOW?!"

-.-.-.-.-.-

Once again, he is waiting, only now with a heart rate three times faster.

He sure did bring her to see the doctor after all.

Kurt's hands have been numb and shaking for the past few hours. From the weight of carrying Jamie to the car, to his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly, to slamming his palms against the wooden tabletop of the reception counter when nobody seemed to be getting the sense of urgency involved... in addition, his ears are partially blocked from all the yelling that Jamie and Sue had been doing.

Well, maybe he was part of that yelling crowd too.

It's barely a month and he's been at the hospital twice already. He hates the disinfectant smell of the hospital, the too-bright lights, the clinical clinks of the metal equipment...

Most of all, he hates the waiting.

He leans his head back against the wall. It's not like it was anything unexpected. The rushed preparation and constant movement had gotten Jamie all confused; naturally, she wouldn't be comfortable. Out of the corner of his left eye, he sees the girl who had come in at the end of the commotion, pale-faced and arms pressed tightly against her chest. That has to be Marley, the therapist who uses Math lessons to work with the kids. Kurt wants to tell her that this really has nothing to do with her and that she can go back to her classes, but he can't quite get himself to speak. As for Sue, she's long headed back, muttering something about having to deal with parents back at the LAC who needed an
explanation for some curriculum matters.

Blaine settles down next to Kurt and hands him a cup of coffee, which Kurt receives gratefully with his shaking hands.

"Kurt?" Blaine whispers, and huddles next to him, a comforting hand on his back. "Kurt, talk to me."

"N-nothing," says Kurt, putting the coffee just under his nose to feel the warm tendrils of steam curl up against his skin. "It's nothing."

He shuts his eyes for a while, as Blaine rubs slow, soothing circles on his back. "It's just – I don't like hospitals. There was my mom... then my dad's close shave... and then you," his voice cracks a little, "and now Jamie. I just – I just feel like my heart is going to leap out anytime."

"Come 'ere," whispers Blaine, as he tucks Kurt's head against his neck and curls his arm around Kurt. "Nobody could possibly like hospitals. Other than – other than your mom, I mean, your dad and I – we got better, Kurt." He tightens his grip. "Jamie will get better."

"Hope so," says Kurt, limply.

"Shewill," says Blaine, firmly. "I've accompanied kids in and out of hospitals over these few years; the only thing that keeps me calm and sane is the belief that they'll be fine."

Kurt doesn't want to ask if Blaine has been disappointed in that belief before.

Just then, Blaine's phone buzzes. "It's Santana," he says. "She says Brittany's in a bad mood today so she can't spare time now, but she'll be over as soon as she can."

Kurt nods numbly. "'Kay."

There's a short silence before Blaine muses, "Do you know... I once stayed at the hospital for half a year?"

"Eh?" Kurt tilts his head up, confused. He shoots a quick look at Marley, who – bless her soul – gets the hint and stutters that she needs to go to the washroom and hurriedly disappears out of sight. Kurt turns back to Blaine, bewildered. "But – the nurse told me just two weeks ago that it was your first time entering the hospital."

"I didn't come tothishospital," says Blaine. "I went to a dingy one in Westerville and I made them not transfer my records over."

Kurt pulls away from Blaine's embrace and stares. "Half a – when – when was this?"

"Fifteen. I repeated a year in middle school because I spent half of the previous year lying in bed here," says Blaine, in a matter-of-fact tone.

Kurt has never heard this story before, so he just gapes.

"I went to a Sadie Hawkins dance with a guy... I had just come out then," says Blaine, his voice dropping into a shaky whisper. "We hadsucha blast, Kurt. It could have been one of the best nights in my life because I wasn't afraid of anything. It was so... so empowering even."

He closes his eyes. "And then after the whole thing, there were these guys who came over... they called us names, they dragged us to the alley... and they beat the living crap out of us."

Kurt doesn't quite know how to respond. The mental image is too horrible for him to bear. His whole face is heating up as he struggles to put his thoughts into words. Finally, he chokes out, "Why... why didn't you tell me this before?"

Blaine gives a fake laugh. "When you meet – the most beautiful, most confident and most loving boy in the world, why would you want to remind yourself of what your world was like without this boy? Why would you want even the slightest bit of shadow in that world to enter that boy's life?"

Kurt shudders involuntarily just thinking of Blaine, all battered and bruised in a dark alley. "Blaine... I'm – so... I'm so sorry... all the times that I assumed you didn't understand what it felt like to be judged because I always thought your problem was your parents... oh my God, I'm so sorry..." He leans his forehead on Blaine's shoulder.

"Don't be," says Blaine, his voice softening. "Not when you are the boy who chased that shadow away."

Kurt intertwines his fingers with Blaine's. It's very easy for him to think that in the small town of Lima, Ohio, he's the only one who has had to deal with being a gay man whose entire life has been put under scrutiny and ridicule, and that has been a tormenting period of time.

But then there's Blaine, whose sunshine personality makes it so difficult to believe that he has had to deal with so much. When Kurt first met him, he was almost jealous that Blaine was not just open about his sexuality, but also extremely comfortable and confident. Over the years, he did see the layers get peeled away to reveal insecurities, but it is only now that he really sees that the layers are pulled over to protect himself from traumatic memories.

"Your –" Kurt knows it's a sensitive topic, but he feels like he should ask anyway. "Your parents. Did they not –?"

"They were overseas half the time; I managed to get someone go to my place and bring all my stuff to the hospital. Then I lied to my parents and said I was staying in the boarding school," says Blaine, quietly. "Hisparents took good care of us while we were both stuck with tubes. When I came home from the hospital, part of me still remained in bandages. I just told them I got into some massive fight while signing out of campus – and I got grounded." He laughs mirthlessly. "Well, it's not like I needed stitches or anything, mostly internal bruising, so they didn't suspect much."

Kurt responds by gripping Blaine's hand even more tightly.

"We all judge, Kurt," says Blaine, leaning back onto the wall. "It's very easy to judge people. The way their hair or clothes are styled or colored, the way they speak or move, the type of language or accent they use. Then it gets uncomfortable when you get to know their personality, their backstories, their life and guess what, we end up realizing nothing quite matches up. Usually we'd try to shift a bit, you know, adjust our mindsets a little such that we feel a bit better about these people. We see them a little differently, bit by bit each day. I used to tell myself, my parents would too. After all, what more your own son, eh?"

He shakes his head. "But when it comes down to it, I end up seeingmyselfa little more differently each day. At some point in time, I look at myself in the mirror and think every inch of me iswrong."

Kurt knows exactly how that feels. He remembers looking into the mirror, staring at a boy wearing the flannel shirt, puffy vest and baseball capand trying to stick out his chin, and feeling horrible for feeling like an alien in an outfit that his father would probably highly approve of. He remembers telling himself amidst the tears trickling down his cheeks, that he would never let his kid feel the same way.

He must have said the last bit aloud, because there was a sharp intake of breath next to him. Blaine is looking at him wide-eyed.

"What?" asks Kurt, defensively.

Blaine smiles weakly. "Nothing. The last time you talked about a hypothetical kid, it was to tell me that you were afraid he or she would be like Jamie."

Kurt hangs his head. "I didn't used to think that much."

There's a pregnant pause before Blaine whispers, "What about Jamie?"

Kurt doesn't answer; he just clasps his fingers together.

"Do you..." Blaine swallows hard. "Do you think there would have been a chance? You know, if we had to take care of her longer..."

Kurt lifts his head up and looks at Blaine, then back at his fingers. "I dunno. Maybe... well. I – you know... I thought you would have been the one to champion that thought."

Blaine draws in a shuddered breath. "Kurt... I'vedreamtabout it."

He takes another deep breath, then continues, "I just... I always thought you saw her as somebody we'retaking in, that we'rehelpingand that was what I thought so too at first. Sometimes right at the end of the day, I'd think, this is it. I can't take it anymore either. It's one thing to handle them in school, but to have to handle them at home – it's beyond exhausting."

Blaine shakes his head. "But then it's like a big line that has been crossed and I can't turn back. I started to... I started to really feel something with her, you know, something..." He gestures wildly.

Kurt can feel his heart thundering as he reaches out to take Blaine's hands into his.

"Blaine? I know."

Blaine stares. "You... know?"

"I –"

The room door swings open, and Kurt and Blaine immediately leap up to accost the doctor.

"How's she?!" "What degree of trauma did she face?" "Is her memory affected? Sight?" "Is it ok if we go and – oh my God, her whole head is bandaged in –"

The doctor holds up both hands. "Whoa. Which one of you is her father?"

Kurt and Blaine exchange looks.

"We're her guardians," Blaine bursts out. "Now can we just skip the whole legalities thing and find out if my girl's okay?"

-.-.-.-.-.-

Given that Jamie had suffered a hard knock, it seems like there remains a chance of concussion and hence, she would have to stay in the hospital for a few more days for scans and further observation. The doctor reassures both Kurt and Blaine that at the moment, all seems to be fine. Nonetheless, Blaine postpones the meeting with the handler and takes leave to take care of Jamie; Kurt doesn't need to since he has been given time off to work on his collection from home.

Kurt brings his designs to the hospital to work on them. It feels almost redundant to work on the designs that he wishes he could let Jamie see and comment on, while watching her struggle in bed with the uncomfortable bandage and pain in her head. It also aches to think about what Blaine had previously said about there being a chance if they had to take care of her longer.

The longer he thinks about it, the more frustrated he becomes.

It's so easy to say, he thinks, while coloring in the thin strands of fabric on a coat,but when it gets down and dirty, that's where things will fall apart.

He and Blaine haven't spoken much in the last two days. The scan results aren't out yet and Jamie gets all fidgety with having been confined to the bed, so Blaine spends his time trying to distract her with activities. Sometimes, when she has to go to another room for a check-up or scan, she gets riled up all over again, and Blaine and the nurses have to try to calm her down. Kurt wants to help, but he finds himself withdrawing from it all.

He isn't quite sure why. Santana came by and he was almost afraid she might start yanking his deepest insecurities out of him with that horrifically accurate Mexican third eye of hers, but thankfully, she didn't.

Although she did start to speak very loudly about how certain handlers weren't very adept at managing the LAC participants, which was very unhelpful of course.

"You do remember how we had a hard time trying to get Howard Bamboo to kick his addiction to channel surfing because his handler couldn't care less about even understanding what autism meant and left him jabbing away at the remote control?" Santana had said. "Oh, no, I think the worst was when a handler thinks he or she knowstoomuch; remember that woman Cassie July and her strange regimentation of shaming and complimenting people in cycles? It was fucking weird and mental."

Kurt had stopped coloring immediately to look up in incredulity.

"Yeah, she justified it by saying that it balanced their mental well-being out," continued Santana, now in a sagely voice. "We have such well-trained handlers."

Blaine didn't really react; he merely continued to engage Jamie in a book, while Santana rattled off more queer incidents with handlers that made Kurt's hair stand on end. And he hadn't even met Shelby Corcoran yet.

"You know," says Blaine, towards the end of the third day of Jamie's hospitalization, "I read through her file before."

"She's a musical theater person, isn't she?" says Kurt, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to unpick stitches on a dress.

"Huh? No, not Shelby, I meant Jamie."

Kurt looks up from his work. "First of all, I'm pretty sure that's illegal. Second of all, it's probably even more illegal to share it with me. And lastly, why are you only waiting till now to tell me?"

Blaine doesn't quite answer the question; instead, he says, "She and her mother were abandoned by her father because of who she is, and her mother couldn't take care of her anymore."

"Because of who she is," repeats Kurt, then he sighs. "Not a reason they'd record down anywhere, but always the fundamental reason."

Blaine's shoulders sag. "Yeah."

Kurt's hands freeze. Finally, he puts aside his work and makes his way to where Blaine is seated. He lets Blaine tilt his head to lean against his side while he puts a hand gently against Blaine's back.

"Then there are those parents who love their kids so much, they're so scared to let go of them," says Blaine, quietly. "They hold onto them so tightly that they don't even have space to grow up. Every time Sam Evans' mom comes to pick him up, she fusses all over him, right from the tufts of his hair down to his shoelaces. It's like she still treats him as if he's half his age even though he's already overage for a football league team."

He sighs and rubs his nose ruefully. "I'm doing it again. Can you please whack me when I say all these things?"

Kurt bends over to kiss Blaine's head. "It's not your fault."

"Everyone's different," mumbles Blaine. "That's what I keep saying. I oughta think what I preach."

"That's some ridiculous logic."

"Iamridiculous."

"No, you're just tired. Just rest."

"Kurt..."

"Shh," says Kurt, and he gently guides Blaine from his seat to the window area to sit. Blaine mumbles a bit more, then his head lolls to the side and he falls asleep almost immediately, while Kurt takes over his place next to Jamie.

He thinks of what Blaine has said, then about his own father and the way he would give him space to do his own things, even if Burt Hummel had no real interest in the tea parties and bejeweled craft boxes that his son was obsessed with. Yet, his father would have his back every single time push came to shove. He would be the hawk all flared up to protect his son from the harsh, spiteful words of others, even at the expense of his heart condition.

Parenting sure wasn't any easy formula, and in Kurt's opinion, Burt Hummel had done it on his own to perfection.

An hour or so later, there comes a knock on the hospital door which startles Kurt; he relaxes a little when Marley pops her head in tentatively. "Is it okay if I come in?"

"Please do," says Kurt, but gestures quietly to a sleeping Blaine and Jamie.

"How is she?" Marley asks, a tender smile crossing her face as she approaches Jamie.

"Worn out," says Kurt. "They've been shuttling her back and forth rooms for scans and stuff – she sure doesn't like it all."

"Poor girl," says Marley. "And poor you guys. It must be tough for you, having to look after her at home too."

Kurt smiles. "You have to look after so many kids as your job. That must be tough too."

"I enjoy it," says Marley, sincerely. "These kids are special in their own ways and they have so much to offer the world, if only the world would open their hearts a little bit more."

"You guys really uphold the buzzword of 'special needs'." Kurt pauses. "Have you seen who Miss Shelby Corcoran is?"

Marley nods. "She came by the other day and Sue attended to her with all kinds of excuses. Can't let Miss Corcoran think we ill-treat the children here or something."

Kurt feels a pang of ache in his heart. And here he was, fearing that Miss Corcoran would ill-treat Jamie.

Marley's eyes crinkle. "I have something to show you. Maybe you'd believe in our 'special' mantra after that."

She pulls out a piece of drawing block from her bag and hands it over to Kurt. "Open it," she says, eagerly.

"I thought you're a Math teacher?" Kurt asks, confused.

"Yeah, but we have regular breaks for the kids to take a breather and do relaxing activities before they carry onto our next task. I'm sure you know Jamie's very fond of drawing." Marley clasps her hands together. "Oh come on, open it!"

Kurt warily unrolls the drawing block, only to find a color pencil drawing of three figures. They're pretty much drawn in the style of any normal six-year-old, but the coloring is finely done. But what is most striking is that the picture is of a little girl holding the hands of two men. Above the three figures, Jamie's scraggly writing reads,

'I LOVE CURT AND BLANE'

"I wanted to correct her spelling, but she wouldn't let me," says Marley. "But I figured it's one of those things whereby you let them have the space to spell phonetically and eventually, they'd work it out and – Kurt?"

She stops short. "Kurt, are you okay?"

Kurt can't help crying. He's exhausted, confused, annoyed and hurt all at once, and now he's just completely overwhelmed with emotions looking at Jamie's drawing.

"Kurt!" Marley stands up immediately, flustered.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Kurt waves his hands about, half-hiccupping as he tries to explain, "It's okay! N-no alarm. I'm –" He takes one more look at the drawing, where Blaine has on a polka-dotted bowtie, he is wearing one of the pants that is in his collection plans, and Jamie is wearing thegreen dress that he designed. "Oh my God."

He whacks his head down a little too hard; Jamie wakes up from the vibrations and begins to shift about.

"Jamie!" Marley exclaims.

"Ahhhhiiiiiii!" Jamie thumps her fists against the blanket.

"Kurt? Marley?" Blaine is starting to stir from the commotion. "What's wrong? Is she okay?"

"Kurt's hyperventilating!" says Marley, frightened. "I don't know what to do!"

Kurt takes deep breaths; he can't really hear anymore, not until Blaine's arms wrap around him and he lets the warmth of Blaine's embrace seep into his bones, before his breathing becomes more regular. Very soon, he realizes that Marley has left, and Blaine is whispering soothing words into his ear.

"I'm pretty sure," says Kurt, once he has calmed down. "I wasn't the one who was hyperventilating."

Blaine laughs against Kurt's ear. "Feeling better? You scared me to death, I thought something happened to Jamie–"

Before Kurt can respond, Blaine's laughter stops abruptly.

"Did you only just notice it?" whispers Kurt, looking back down at the drawing.

"Bababbbpffffttt..." Jamie blows on her bottom lip as both of them look at her.

Blaine gently takes the drawing from Kurt and lays it out in front of Jamie. He carefully wipes away the saliva bubbles on her lip with a tissue, then holds out his hand. Jamie takes it automatically; a smile spreads across her face as Blaine guides her fingers to trace the figures in the drawing.

"Who did you draw, Jamie?" Blaine asks, gently.

"Me!" Jamie triumphantly jabs at the girl in the middle. Then she points to the figure on her right. "Blaiiiiine."

Blaine smiles and presses a kiss to her head tenderly.

"Ow!"

Kurt immediately flinches and Blaine instinctively leans back, startled. Thankfully, Jamie doesn't seem to think much of it, though Blaine murmurs, "Sorry, Jamie. I forgot."

Jamie's fingers move over to the figure on the left. Then she looks straight at Kurt. "Kurt."

Kurt can feel his lips trembling.

Who would need me for me?

Blaine wraps his arms around Jamie as he sings softly, while Jamie leans against him as she traces the drawing one more time.

Need me for me alone
The world was my oyster
But where was the pearl?

Kurt moves over to sit on the other side of the bed. Blaine's smile fades and his eyebrows furrow.

"Is it too late?" Kurt murmurs.

"Too late for what?" asks Blaine, his voice strained.

"We could fall apart," says Kurt, reaching out to point at the smiles on their faces one by one. "We might never look like that again."

Blaine looks pained now. "I'm not asking – pretend I never said anything. We can just go back to what we – what we used to have."

"But it isn't going to be the same anymore. It will never be."

Blaine remains silent.

"We mightn't even talk anymore," says Kurt, unable to stop the tears rolling down his cheeks once more. "We mightn't even think of eachother anymore. Every ounce of energy we'd have would be lost."

Now Blaine looks confused. "I don't –"

"But that's what every parent would do for their child, won't they?" Kurt whispers. "Or at least what every parentshoulddo for their child. Whether or not the child has special needs, they would do anything for her. They would do anything to make sure she grows up in a place where she feels loved, accepted and free."

He looks back at Blaine, whose eyes are now shining.

"It's what you would want to do," Kurt continues, "because you want to give her the love you never had. And it's what – what I would want to do because Iknowthat love that I had made me the person I am today."

"You don't have to give up anything, Kurt," says Blaine, reaching out to cup Kurt's cheek.

Kurt can't help but roll his eyes, even as the tears are falling, fast and furious. "I'm not six, Blaine. That's not a promise you can keep. We don't, and can't, even have vows to bind us."

"No," admits Blaine. "I can't promise a lot of things, Kurt. In fact, I break so many of them. I promised that I'd never make you feel any less than who you were, and yet, I hurt you with all the assumptions I made about how you could handle Jamie. I promised that I could take care of Jamie on my own so as not to trouble you, and yet, I dragged you into a whole big mess that nearly pulled us apart."

"And you promised that it'll be all over in these few weeks," says Kurt, breaking into a teary smile. "That's broken too."

Blaine looks at him wonderingly. "Really, Kurt?" he whispers. "Really?"

"I'm not trusting a woman who comes all the way to Lima, Ohio trying to spend her time babysitting Jamie while she has personal issues," says Kurt, wrinkling his nose, but he is interrupted by Blaine leaning over to kiss him.

"I want to go home," Jamie announces loudly. "I want to go home with Kurt and Blaine."

Kurt chokes back a laugh. "I don't think any of your prep work really worked."

When he sees Blaine half-smirking, he gasps theatrically. "Blaine Anderson, did younotwant it to work?!"

"Well... let's just say the future of my crystal ball said that both Jamie and I would be seated in the front row at your collection's show, cheeringyou on," says Blaine, smiling.

"Always assuming," says Kurt. "I didn't even say I'd invite you. In fact, you might want to bargain your way through bedroom invitations first."

Blaine laughs through his tears; Kurt looks back down at the painting again and can't help thinking that those designs would appear in reality very soon, on the runway, on the awkward frames of young children – and yet none of those would tell the stories he wanted to tell as well as what Jamie had drawn.

"Then at least, I'll keep one promise, which is to make sure that this remains on your face as much as possible," says Blaine, gesturing to thesmile on cartoon-Kurt's face. "Otherwise, you'll never –"

"Never fully dressed without a smile!" Jamie sings loudly.

Both of them stare at her.

Who'd dream I would find it

In one little girl?

Kurt rests his chin on top of Jamie's head as he sings quietly. Blaine chimes in,

Yes, something was missing

But dreams do come true

They lean in together with Jamie, who is still clutching onto the drawing.

That something is no one... but you.