Burt strolled down the hallway in the obstetrical ward, loaded down with magazines and books he'd collected for Blaine.  He knew how tough it was on a bouncy, energetic kid like Blaine in the hospital.  Poor guy had been lying down in hospital beds more often than not over the last year, between that rock-salt slushy and then this weird pregnancy thing.  Least he could do was pass on some reading material to help pass the time.  He figured they'd be scheduling the boys' c-sections anytime now, so he planned on taking the next couple weeks to spend time with them and with his new grandbabies. 

Blaine's room was empty, so he tossed the magazines on the bedside table and sat down in a nearby chair to wait for him to come back from whatever test he was having today.  He shook his head.  Kid was cooped up and poked and prodded like a damn lab rat.  Well, it'll be worth it to have those miracle little girls to spoil.

He heard a commotion outside, a flurry of shouts and running feet, and supposed somebody was in labor.  He picked up a magazine and started flipping through it, but out of the corner of his eye, saw Dr. Shelley's stout form flash by the doorway, followed by Dr. Ryan.  Those were Blaine and Kurt's doctors.  He dropped the magazine again, and went to the doorway, just in time to see Blaine being wheeled by on a gurney toward the Operating Room.  “Hey!” he called out, alarmed.  “Hey, where're you takin' him?  That's my son-in-law!”

A hand on his arm startled him, and he turned to see Anna Anderson standing behind him, her face taut and pale.  “Burt, he's gone into labor - -“

“What?  It's time?”  He looked down the hallway and saw Blaine being wheeled into the operating suite.  “Where's Kurt?”

Anna swiped her hand across her eyes, and choked out, “That's the problem, Burt!  He's not picking up his phone!  Blaine won't let them start until we find out where he is and … and I think Kurt must be in trouble.”

Burt bit his lip, took a deep breath, and then tried to smile reassuringly.  “Let's not jump to conclusions.  He probably forgot his phone and went out for cheesecake.  Kurt would leave his head off if it wasn't attached. He'll check in any minute, I - -“

“Burt.  The legends of the pregnant couples from Ariadne's temple - -“

“Ah, Anna - -“

She cut him off.  “Listen, Burt!  This is important!  In all the legends, both partners got pregnant at the same time.  And -- went into labor at the same time!  If Blaine's in labor, then I'm sure Kurt is too!”

He felt the blood drain from his face, but forced himself to speak calmly. “That doesn't mean Kurt's in labor, or in trouble if he is.  He'll get to a phone.”

“Burt!  All the men who went into labor – straight or gay – died, remember?  Kurt needs to get here as soon as possible and have a c-section if he's in labor!”

Burt had heard that a drowning man sees his own life flash before his eyes in the moment before death. At Anna's words, the life that flashed before him wasn't his own, but Kurt's.  Kurt as a big-eyed, somber, vaguely superior-looking newborn.  As a sweet, eccentric little boy with a love of Power Rangers and princesses alike, dressing up in his mom's heels and scarves while she was alive, and hiding in her wardrobe, her clothes draped over him, to try to retain her memory through her scent after death.  So many memories, most wonderful, some painful, but not enough of them.  Not enough to say goodbye to his son, to let him go to his mom in the hereafter.

Anna grabbed his arms and shook him.  “Think, Burt!  Where could he be?”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The latest wave of pain gradually subsided, and he knew he would have only a minute or two before it rose up again.  Though he was trembling and shaky, Kurt forced himself to a sitting position yet again, as he had a half-dozen times already between contractions.  He was afraid to stand up, for fear he'd lose his balance when the next contraction hit, and fall the rest of the way down.  He or the baby could get hurt in the fall.  No, he had to take it slow, inch his way to the bottom of the stairs.  He could see it was only one more flight of stairs, once he rounded this next corner.  He could see the exit door through the banister.  Once he got into the lobby, maybe he could get his phone to work, call an ambulance … God, please let there be enough time … Penny, please hang in there … please be all right, baby girl …

Another crushing, twisting contraction took over, but he stayed calm this time, even as the pain blotted out his vision and tore at his insides.  He gripped the banister railing, trying to keep breathing, trying to think of his happy place like Blaine's silly Lamaze videos had recommended.  Blaine had said Kurt was going to be his happy place if he went into labor.  Kurt had made fun of him mercilessly, but right now Blaine's face rose up in his mind and he focused on it.  My happy place, he thought, focusing on the way Blaine's eyes always lit up when he saw Kurt come in the hospital room every day.

When the contraction passed, he drew a deep, shaky breath.  There had been hardly a break between contractions that time.  He had to hurry, but it was so hard.  He slid down a step on the stairway, then another.   Before he could manage a third, he was gripped yet again with another contraction. 

His contractions were now only seconds apart, not minutes, and they were getting stronger.  What if he couldn't get to the door?  What if he got there, and there still wasn't any reception, and he had to somehow drag himself to the front door of the school?  He - -

The pain spiked to a new level of agony, and he curled on his side on the step to try to withstand it.   

I don't have a key to let myself out.  Adam unlocked the door to get us in here.  What if it locked shut behind him?

Before he could complete his last thought, the world went blissfully dark and silent around him.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Burt and Anna hovered one on each side of Blaine's stretcher, cellphones in hand, waiting for some word from Kurt.  Blaine's pain had been dulled by the anesthesiologist, but he was tense with worry.  They barely noticed the steady stream of traffic rushing around them frantically.

This was a teaching hospital, with an old-fashioned operating room gallery available to watch the historic surgery through panes of glass.  The chief and assistant chief of every remotely related department in the hospital – obstetrics, perinatology, neonatology, pediatrics, surgery – and the chief of the medical staff, along with experts in all those fields from other top hospitals, and special medical correspondents from the New York Times and the Associated Press, arrived steadily and filed into the gallery to take seats and observe this moment, all under strict written agreement not to reveal Blaine's real name or identity.  There was a gowned and masked camera crew in the operating room itself.  The OR team was scrubbed and prepped and at the ready.  There was only one thing missing.  The patient, who had stubbornly refused to sign a consent form.

"Blaine,” Anna whispered into his ear, looking up at the impatient nurse holding a clipboard.  “Honey, sign the paper and let them take you in.”

“No.  Not until I hear from Kurt.”

“We told you, honey.  He's on his way, he said to go in,” Anna lied, meeting his eyes steadily. 

Blaine glanced over at a pale, drawn Burt.  “No he didn't.  He'd have asked to talk to me, not pass a message through you.  You're lying.  He's missing, and I need to know he's all right before I can go in!”

Dr. Shelley came out from the operating suite and approached the bed.  “Blaine, we're almost ready.  You need to sign the consent form so we can get started.”

“Is my baby in danger?” Blaine asked directly.  He looked over at the portable ultrasound and electronic fetal monitor beside him.  After months in the hospital, he had a pretty good idea of what numbers to expect.  “It doesn't look like it.  The heart rate's fine - - “

The doctor sighed, and shrugged helplessly at Anna.  “The baby's in good condition, Blaine, but we need to get started soon.  If we start to see any signs of distress, or if Kurt isn't here in another fifteen minutes, I wouldn't recommend waiting any longer, okay?”

Blaine nodded, blinking back tears.  Please call, Kurt, please ..

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Rachel fished in her pocketbook for the key-pass to the front door at NYADA and swiped it.  “Thank goodness I'm president of twelve freshman organizations and have a key,” she said importantly.  “Though I'm sure he's not here.  Probably he's out taking a walk or getting some lunch.”

“Lunch, probably.  Little bro can really put it away these days.”  Finn followed her inside the hallway.  “Where'd Adam say they were supposed to practice?”

“Upstairs, second floor.  Let's take the elevator up.”

They waited, Finn tapping the wall and pressing the elevator button repeatedly.  After a moment, Finn blew out a breath and turned to Rachel.  “Look, I'm … just having a weird feeling about this.  You check the elevator when it gets here, but I'm heading up.”

“It'll be here in a second, it's just a little slow sometimes,” Rachel protested, but Finn planted a kiss on the top of her head and sprinted for the stairwell.  When he yanked the door open and looked up, he shouted, “Rachel!” and shot through it, his wife hot on his heels.   

He bounded up the stairs three at a time and reached his little brother, passed out on the stairs.  Terrified, he gently shook his shoulder.  “Kurt … Kurt, little bro, it's Finn, can you open your eyes?”

Rachel knelt beside him, pulling out her cellphone.  “Damn it, there's no reception in here,” she said.  “I'm going down to the lobby to call an ambulance.”

“No time,” Finn said abruptly.  “The hospital's only three blocks from here.  I'm carrying him.”  He put an arm under Kurt's knees and another under his back, and carefully lifted him. 

The movement seemed to rouse Kurt, who groaned in pain.

“It's okay Kurt.  I got you,” Finn soothed him.  Rachel bit her lip, stroking Finn's shoulder with one hand and Kurt's tumbled, sweat-dampened hair with the other.  Finn nodded toward the door and Rachel hurried toward it.    “Just try to stay still so I can carry you, okay?”

Kurt buried his face on Finn's shoulder.  “Hurts so bad,” he whimpered. 

“I'll try to be gentle.  Just relax.”  Finn went down the final flight of stairs.  Rachel had scurried ahead and opened the door for him.   She held it open as they passed through, Finn carefully avoiding the door jamb.  Then she ran ahead to the front door, where she scrambled with the key to open it. 

His lips white and tense, Kurt murmured, “Blaine … call Blaine and tell him …  the baby's coming … it's coming …”

“I'm calling the hospital to tell them to get ready, Kurt.  It's okay, just try to stay calm,” Rachel shrieked, dialing her cellphone while running into the crowded, clamoring sidewalk.  “Get out of the way!  Pregnant man coming through!”