There were little moments everyday that Kurt and Blaine forgot what they had promised to not do in their unsaid agreements. They had promised themselves to not give each other a few seconds to lock eyes with the other. Hugs were not allowed anymore either or the fleeting brushes of the hands while they walked. No more late night texts when the one could not sleep. They hoped that barring themselves from what they wanted to express would gradually ween them from the drug of each others company.

Unfortunately, they learned too late that staving off one from the other just proved to make them miss the other all the more.

There were too many times when they were together that they forgot their troubles and solely enjoyed being with each other. But this was dangerous. And both knew it.

Kurt and Santana tried again to make it work. They tried to make love instead of sex. They tried to spend a day memorizing each others body. They tried to fall in love.

It was all for naught. It was never more than sex. Never more than an obligation with the fewest hints of passion.

It probably didn't help that neither of them had ever felt the type of connection that they were trying to create. And is wasn't even for their own sake, but for the baby. At the same time, there was always the nagging truth that there was just a good of chance that the baby was Puck's, so once again, Kurt was afraid to fall in love.

Santana needed someone though, and Kurt couldn't bear to leave her when she was so broken. She quit the Cheerios immediately which made rumors fly the moment she took her hair out of her pony and handed in her pom-poms. Many guessed her secret and made bets at who the father was spread around the school like wildfire despite a word of her pregnancy was never uttered by either her or Kurt. In this small school though, everyone's every move was watched with careful eyes and any type of change brought excitement.

Kurt protected her though. Why he did, he wasn't sure, but a good part of it was because Puck hadn't even looked at either of them in the 3 weeks since Santana told him. Kurt noticed the weight she was gaining, not from the baby, but from her lack of movement. Extra fat settled in odd places on her thighs and arms as if her figure didn't know how to accommodate the extra weight.

Her grades plummeted. When Kurt got her after last period to drive her and carry her backpack to the car, he saw some papers sticking out of her folders with large red zeros on the front. He tried to talk to her about it, but she became very cold. Gradually she retreated into herself and Kurt felt alone even when he was spending time with her.

[8 Weeks into Pregnancy]

::San, why won't you talk to me anymore?:: Kurt

Kurt bounced his phone on his knee. He glanced at the clock which told him it was 10 AM. He hoped to spend some time with her today and maybe talk to her about getting her schoolwork together. She hadn't contacted Kurt since Friday when she couldn't find him after school and today was Sunday. That was another part of her that had changed. Kurt noticed that she was very jumpy and even when Kurt was a few minutes late to find her after school, she would text him asking where he was. However when he was actually with her, she never talked.

Kurt made himself breakfast and scrolled through old texts from his friends, many asking about homework assignments or why he and Santana were so close lately and a lot from unknown numbers jeering at him about knocking Santana up.

Then he got to Blaine's name. 5 letters that made him flush with a fond warmth that he hadn't felt in what seemed like forever. The last 3 texts were from Blaine from different days asking him how he was. Kurt hovered over the button on my phone to begin a reply back to Blaine. But what would he say? He knew he wanted to ask him to come over and just watch a movie or something. Any kind of human interaction to rejuvenate him from the endless cold shoulder from Santana despite her constant asking to be with him. Chewing on his bottom lip, he knew it would be dangerous, but he just needed to be with his best friend for a few hours.

All day he battled with the demon to just text Blaine, but he forced himself to be occupied with homework, documentaries, books, anything.

Halfway through a documentary about the migration patterns of penguins, he was ready to give up and just as his thumb descended on the button to send a text, his phone brightened with a text from Brittany. Exhaling his breath, he read it and momentarily gave up his previous conquest.

::Have you herd from San at all?:: Brittany

::No. I haven't heard from her in a while.:: Kurt

::Me neither. Im scared. We hvent hung out in a weak.:: Brittany

Kurt swallowed, now a bit of worry settling in his gut. Brittany was Santana's best friend and they were inseparable. Santana had become even closer with Brittany even though the blonde was still unaware of Santana's pregnancy despite the very subtle curve of Santana's stomach that was forming.

Kurt began texting Santana asking where she was and what she was doing. He glanced nervously at the clock, now 10:30PM. He shook his cell on his palm for a while longer, watching the TV noncommittally until it changed to 11:15PM.

He texted her more and then finally called her. It went straight to her message machine.

Who did he call now? His initial thought was always the same.

Blaine.

By 11:45PM his nerves were too much for him and he dialed Santana's home phone. He took a long breath to calm his voice and then the phone picked up.

An annoyed man with a very slight Hispanic accent picked up the phone. "Hello? Hello? What do you-"

"Hello, Dr. Lopez, this is Kurt Hummel, a friend of Santana's. I was wondering if she was hom-"

"Look, she's at Brittany's house having a sleepover. And it better stay with it ONLY being with her friend."

Kurt cleared his throat and swallowed the lump of fear that had developed in his throat. She couldn't be with Brittany if Britt was looking for her.

"I assure you that was not my intention, sir. Thank you, sorry to bother you. Good night."

The line cut off immediately without so much as a parting word, but instead of being miffed, Kurt's hands started trembling and without another thought, he scrolled through his phone and called the man he'd wanted to call since this dilemma began.

"I'm at the intersection now and I still don't see her," Blaine's voice came from the scratchy speaker on Kurt's phone on the passenger seat.

After sending a mass text to everyone in his contacts asking if they knew where Santana was and getting all negative replies, Kurt and Blaine hit the streets. Blaine had been staying over at his aunt's house right outside Lima so he was close by when Kurt's frantic call made him slip on shoes, jeans, and run to his car.

"I'm just turning into First Street. She has to be somewhere. Somewhere."

Blaine peered around in the darkness and was startled with two large SUV's zoomed past him, music blasting out the speakers as they quickly faded away, a person screaming out of the roof window. Reluctant to trust his gut feeling, he turned on his blinker and followed the general direction of the car and found himself on a private road that was only about a mile from Santana's house. One large house had cars strewn along both sides with people loitering the lawn and roof of the house.

"Kurt. I-I think I know where Santana is. Go to Derek Court. You'll know what house."

Blaine parked his car and walked into the house, no one seeming aware of his presence. Looking around, it was like one of those bad parents-are-out frat parties and it seemed to be in full swing. He got to the top of the stairs, trying to peer over the mosh of bodies, but his stomach flipped at the sound of loud moans coming from the bedrooms and he hoped that none of them were Santana's.

Pushing through the throng, he was groped by drunk girls offering him anything, but he ignored them in search of the Latina.

After a few minutes, his phone buzzed.

::I'm almost here, I see the house.:: Kurt

When he looked up he happened to glance over at a couch where a woman dressed in tight red and black clothes was curled around a man who looked like he hadn't seen a shower in a month and reeked from across the room of pot.

"Excuse me, but Santana. We need to leave."

Noticing a disturbance, Santana looked behind her and saw Blaine. "Oh. Hi, Blaine. Isn't this a great party?"

Blaine's heart sank at her appearance. She had been drinking, her glossed eyes a clear marker and who knows what else. She was only in the first trimester, would that effect Kur- the baby?

"Santana Lopez, we are leaving, now!" Blaine commanded, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her off the repulsive man.

"Hey man! Get the fuck off of her faggot!" he yelled at Blaine, reaching out to take her back and accidentally twisting her arm. Blaine's mouth went dry for a moment when he recognized the track marks peppering the man's inner arm. "Santana. We're leaving," he whispered into her ear.

"Give her back asshole! I'll fuck you up!" the man hollered, trying to lunge at Blaine. Blaine curled around Santana, trying to save her from the attack, but the blow never came. He looked up just in time to see Kurt run in and punch the man in the nose then shove him back onto the couch, his broken nose coupled with whatever drug he was on sending him into an instant stupor.

Kurt took Santana's feet and Blaine held her upper body as they maneuvered he screaming girl into Kurt's car. She thrashed and finally clipped Kurt under the chin making him bite the inside of his cheek.

She started to run back up towards the hill, but this time Kurt caught up with her and tackled her, forcing her onto her back, then straddling her waist and holding her wrists together over her head.

She spit up at him, but he dodged it and it came back down and landed on her own cheek. Tears started to stream down her face and she stopped resisting.

"Santana! Stop it! Listen to me! You're drunk and you're pregnant! How stupid can you be? You're going to hurt your child for what? This dumbfuck stunt you're pulling?"

Santana's eyes suddenly opened in panic. Familiar with this from multiple Dalton parties, Blaine ushered Kurt off Santana, then quickly rolled her onto her side where she promptly threw up in 3 hard heaves. Blaine rubbed her back in slow circles and held her hair back while Kurt spit the blood clots that formed in his mouth into the shrubbery.

"Why do you even care?" Santana cried out, throat raw. "I fucked Puck a dozen times without a condom, but you, you were just a broken condom that I probably got out of me before anything could happen. The baby has no chance of being yours! Face it, it's Pucks!"

Kurt spit out one more clot, testing the side of his cheek with the tip of his tongue. "It only takes one, Santana. And maybe I just care about you because no matter how much you may think it's Puck's, I still had sex with you once by the time you realized you were pregnant."

"What were you doing her-" Blaine began, but stopped when he heard sirens faintly in the distance. "We need to leave."

Blaine rushed to his car and Kurt ushered Santana into his own backseat then they sped off towards Kurt's house.

Santana was in a stupor by now from combination of her throwing up and her drunkenness slowly ebbing away. They gingerly carried her upstairs to the bathroom, thankful that Carole and Burt had gone to a late-night cook-out, but Kurt new he was already on borrowed time.

"I feel disgusting. Give me a bath?" she murmured.

Once the tub was filled less than halfway with hot water, they eased her in and immediately her body relaxed. Kurt took off his shoes and rolled up his pants so he could sit on the edge of the tub and cradle her head with his legs. Blaine knelt beside them, unfazed by the naked woman in the tub beside him. Kurt looked down at her body, staring at her navel, practically begging the child forming inside her to tell him who the father was. Deep down he knew it was probably Puck's, but he only hoped that it would be his because he couldn't stand for the child to have been conceived with someone who was that awful to the possible mother of his child.

Kurt wet a washcloth and warmed some soap in his hands before smoothing it over the Latina. After a few minutes of lathering, her breathing had slowed dramatically and she was asleep.

"Is she okay to sleep?" Kurt asked softly.

Blaine nodded. "She'll be fine. I only worry about-"

"I know."

Kurt dropped his head to his chest and took a deep breath, then continued washing the girl of the traces of vomit and alcohol that dusted her body. "I'll have her checked out as soon as I can."

"How have youbeen, Kurt? You've been borderline ignoring me for a few weeks."

Kurt looked into Blaine's eyes and they both knew why.

"I've been alright. Stable. It's just hard to want to get... used to her, but at the same time not become too attached if it turns out that it's not..."

Blaine sucked in his lips. "It doesn't matter though, does it?"

Kurt looked back up at him and raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You're going to stay with her no matter what, aren't you? Even if it's yours, Puck, or the mailman's," his voice betrayed no emotions, but there was something in his eyes that Kurt was not sure of which emotion they conveyed.

He ran his fingers through her hair, rinsing water through her dark, shiny locks. "Maybe. If it's Puck's, I'll claim the child as mine because no one deserves a father like that. We'll tell the baby though as it gets older that I'm its' adoptive father... and if it is Puck's, then maybe I could still get out of here and just send money back ho- to Santana and visit every once in a while. If it is mine though... I just don't know. All I want is for this baby to have a father figure in it's life. A good one."

"Are you going to marry her?" Blaine asked, staring at the side of the tub.

Kurt's eyes misted, but he forced back the tears. "Probably. I try not to think about it until things are more sure."

Blaine nodded stiffly.

"How are you and Rachel doing?"

The darker-haired boy looked up briefly and confusion flashed across his features, before he answered, "Oh. Yeah. Rachel, right. Um, we're still together. This trip to my aunt's is a nice break from her. We don't make the effort to see each other as much anymore. We haven't for a while."

"Why don't you break up with her?"

Blaine opened his mouth to answer when a very faint "c-cold" uttered from Santana's lips followed by a grimace. Kurt rinsed her off once more and then the boys lifted her from the tub, wrapped her in a towel and placed a huge baggy shirt over her body before wrapping her under the multiple blankets of Kurt's bed.

The tell-tale hum of the garage door was the signal for Blaine to leave.

"Thank you. For everything, Blaine."

"Yeah. I'm glad I was able to help."

They awkwardly shook hands and Blaine moved to go out the window, then turned around when he felt Kurt's presence behind him to pull him into an intimate hug. Fingers dug into shirts and chests were flat together while they embraced and breathed together for a few moments.

"Kurt?" came Burt's voice from downstairs.

Santana tossed a bit and Kurt broke the hug to pet her head and whisper "Shhhh."

Blaine frowned privately to himself, already missing Kurt's arms around him. With one last look at the boy soothing the sleeping girl, he hopped from the windowsill and left.

"Blaine?" Kurt said when he turned around, but Blaine was already gone, window still open. He peered out and saw the bluish glow of Blaine's headlights driving slowly down his street.

"Yeah Dad, I'm home!" Kurt called down.

"Alright. G'nite."

Suddenly struck with loneliness, Kurt shuffled around the room, putting on his pajamas, then slid into bed with Santana. He slowly wrapped his arms around her and tried to bring her close, but just as he started to get comfortable, she shimmed away and emitted a soft snore. A cold shiver ran through Kurt's body, and he shifted in the bed so his back was to her.

At least with their backs touching he could imagine it was someone else...if only for imagination's sake.