As September crept into October, the weather growing colder, Kurt and Blaine's relationship was thriving. The silver band on Kurt's finger would never receive so much attention as it did in those first few weeks, with Kurt's eyes constantly on it and Blaine pressing his lips against the skin-warmed metal every few minutes. Though Kurt was miserable being so big and hardly able to do a thing, every time he snapped at Blaine was followed by days of regret, flowers arriving on the doorstep until Santana had to ask the florist to stop taking Kurt's orders lest they get evicted from their nice apartment. Not that there was too much financial strain on them, with Rachel's dads paying her way, Blaine's parents paying his and Burt and Carole stepping perfectly into the role of doting grandparents by furnishing the nursery.

The end of October came with Santana hanging a sign on their door to deter any young children wanting to come trick or treating, despite Blaine's protests, and with the wind and rain picking up. With the four of them perched on the couch, eating a bucket of Halloween candy Rachel had decided to pick up on her way home from work, cycling through the channels looking for something to watch, Santana started when a howling gust of wind rattled the windows. "Christ, isn't it a bit early in the season for storms?" she asked, unwrapping the last chocolate to a glare from Kurt.

"The websites all say to avoid travelling as much as possible tonight, unless it's completely essential, and keep windows shut," Blaine volunteered, sliding onto the floor to lay his head on the prominent swell of Kurt's stomach, fingers sneaking up beneath the straining hem of his shirt to draw patterns into his stretched skin, smiling affectionately when one of the babies kicked out at him.

"Can you not do that?" Kurt snapped, folding his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes at Blaine. "They're already breaking my back without you provoking them. And this is all your fault." Blaine has to hide his giggle behind his hand, sliding his hand down to rub his hormonal fiancé's thigh reassuringly.

As Santana got up to throw away their empty plastic bucket and all the wrappers stuffed inside, the lights flickered and shut off completely. Rachel let out a yelp of shock and switched on her phone screen, waving the bright light around the dark apartment. "San, there's candles and matches in the top drawer next to the stove, can you light them?" she called, and Santana turned her phone torch on. "Guess we can order pizza again tonight," Rachel added, and Blaine snorted seeing the way Kurt's eyes lit up as Rachel dialled the nearest takeaway and gave their usual order.

Despite the cold, they were enjoying themselves, breaking out their ugly Christmas sweaters early and wrapping themselves in blankets, passing around a bottle of Coke and eating their pizzas, sitting in a circle on the floor with the candles on the counters casting a warm glow over the room. But, without the television and their music, they could hear the wind outside louder than ever. But it failed to disguise the gasp Kurt let out, nor his mumble of, "Uh, guys? My water broke."

All three of them were silent for a long moment, until Santana loudly exclaimed, "You have got to be shitting me!" Her eyes went wide when Kurt squeaked and clutched at his belly, and she stumbled upright and backwards, grabbing at her pocket for her phone. "I'll call a taxi! Or an ambulance. Do we need a taxi or an ambulance?!"

"Neither, we have a car, and we should go start it up and maybe call ahead while these two get their bags," Rachel said, putting an arm around the panicking woman and looking back over shoulder to roll her eyes at Blaine, who gave her a tight smile before crawling over to Kurt and helping him to his feet, fussing with the blanket around his shoulders.

"Wait!" Kurt called as Blaine started heading towards their bedroom to grab the overnight bags. Turning back, nerves written across every inch of his face, Blaine melted with relief when he saw Kurt smiling. "Blaine, this is it. We're having ababy!"

"Two babies," Blaine corrected, and Kurt's smile grew even wider as he slipped a jacket on and waited for Blaine to return, bags swinging from his shoulder as he took Kurt's hand and helped him down the stairs, pausing and waiting for the contractions to wash over Kurt's body, making him whimper and the tears spring to his eyes.

It quickly became evident that getting to the hospital was going to take much longer than usual with the storm, every delay working Blaine into a panic as he unearthed a flannel from the bag and emptied half a bottle of water onto it, dabbing at Kurt's face, glistening with sweat, and rubbing his belly gently, unable to think of any other way to help. "Can't you get out and tell them we're carrying a man in labour?" Santana asked Rachel desperately, rubbing at her temples and darting a horrified glance into the back seat when Kurt cried out, slumping down as far as the seatbelt would allow. "I refuse to stop the car and deliver twins on the sidewalk."

"Don't even joke about that," Rachel snapped, her knuckles white on the steering wheel as the light turned green and she pressed on, splashing through the rain and twisting around every few minutes when Kurt whimpered with the next, longer contraction. "Kurt, can't you...cross your legs or something? Hold it in?"

"I can't just cross my legs and hold ababyin!" Kurt shouted, face red from exertion and wet with tears. "Just get me to the hospital. I need drugs!" Blaine tried not to laugh at the sheer absurdity of Rachel's suggestion, leaning over to kiss Kurt's temple softly. "I don't want our babies to be born in the back of Rachel's car," Kurt said in a small voice, meek and scared, and Blaine kissed him properly.

"It's going to be okay," he promised, reaching for Kurt's hand and rubbing his thumb over his engagement ring. "I promise, Kurt, our babies are going to be born in hospital and you're going to get the pain relief you need. We're almost there now."

Thankfully, no more delays stalled their path to the hospital and Santana and Rachel were soon climbing out and running to reception, retrieving a wheelchair and helping Kurt into it, taking him up to the labour ward while Blaine followed behind, carrying their bags and smiling every time Kurt looked back for reassurance. After the doctor examined him, concluding that there wasn't long to go before they'd have their children in their arms, Rachel checked her watch and exclaimed, "Oh my God, it took an hour and fifteen minutes to get here! Normally that would take half an hour!"

"Well no wonder we've got about ten minutes before these two come out to say hi," Kurt said dryly, looking far more relaxed after the epidural, and Blaine laughed, squeezing his hand. "Speaking of which..." He trailed off as the midwife bustled in, lifting Kurt's ankles in the rests at the end of the bed and giving him a reassuring smile, hands disappearing under the hospital gown.

"Do you want to see your children being born?" she asked Blaine, but he shook his head, preferring to stay holding Kurt's hand tight in his and exchanging loving smile, stroking the silver band of his engagement ring, watching the tears fill his eyes when a weak cry filled the silence and a second midwife took the bloody, wailing baby from the first, taking it away to be dressed and washed. "There's your girl," the first midwife said with a smile. "And looks like your boy's coming fast."

A few minutes later, their son was squirming in Blaine's arms, curious blue eyes peering up at Blaine, their daughter's crying quieting as she was laid on Kurt's warm chest, her tiny eyes crinkling the hospital gown. "I need to call someone," Santana said, slipping her arm through a protesting Rachel's and dragging her outside as the midwives followed, leaving Kurt and Blaine alone with their children.

A few minutes later, their son was squirming in Blaine's arms, curious blue eyes peering up at Blaine, their daughter's crying quieting as she was laid on Kurt's warm chest, her tiny eyes crinkling the hospital gown. "I need to call someone," Santana said, slipping her arm through a protesting Rachel's and dragging her outside as the midwives followed, leaving Kurt and Blaine alone with their children.

"She looks like a little Ivy to me," Kurt said softly, his hand on their little girl's back, holding her steady as she nuzzled into his chest. "Ivy Cadence Hummel-Anderson." Smiling at Blaine, his eyes filled with tears as he looked down on their son, he said, "You can name him, honey."

"Parker," Blaine said immediately, stroking the soft down of brown hair on their son's head. "Parker James Hummel-Anderson." Squinting down at him, he looks up into Kurt's smiling eyes and says, "They both have your nose. Maybe they'll be identical."

"Her hair's darker, more like yours," Kurt pointed out, lifting Ivy into a sitting position, supporting her head with one hand. "God, I don't care who they take after. They're ours, and they're amazing."

"We're amazing," Blaine said, cradling Parker carefully in one arm as he reached over to kiss Kurt's soft, smiling lips. "God, Kurt, we're a family now. Kurt, Blaine, Ivy and Parker. We have children and we're getting married. I never thought this would happen so soon." Kurt grinned up at him, eyes glinting with wicked mischief. "I love you so much, Kurt."

"I love you too," Kurt replied simply, eyes bright as Rachel and Santana returned, bearing balloons and flowers and cards, talking loud and excited and taking pictures of them, each handling the babies as carefully as priceless antiques, ready to step into their roles as doting godmothers.

Ready to be a father and a husband, Blaine took Kurt's hand and leaned over for a long, sweet kiss.

Epilogue

"Papa! Papa!" Blaine looked up from straightening his tie in the mirror to find Ivy running towards him on her unsteady feet, her short curls topped by a silver circlet, twirls of silver stalks with leaves climbing upwards, matching her name. "Papa gettin' married!" she cried, clambering up onto the stool before the dressing table and leaning closed to the light-framed mirror, grinning at her reflection. "Ivy pretty!"

"Yes you are, princess," Blaine said fondly, gathering her into his arms to her wriggling and squirming, nearly knocking her tiara askew. "Where's your brother?"

"Helpin' Daddy," Ivy said with a firm nod. "Auntie Santana said he's ready, but I think Daddy's sick. He was all green, Papa, like my plant." Blaine felt the shiver of anticipation at the base of his spine. They'd decided they wanted another baby mere months ago, while Ivy and Parker were young enough to have a close bond with a new baby as well as each other, but he hadn't expected anything this fast. Maybe it was just nerves. His stomach was churning too, with the yearning for everything to be perfect for Kurt. They needed to have this ultimate end to their fairytale.

As it turned out, the entire winter wedding was perfect. They took their photographs outside, Artie calling for everyone to smile as the icicles clinging to the hotel roof glittered in the winter sunlight. With Ivy perched on Rachel's lap and Parker sitting happily on Sam's shoulders, they all smiled as needed, but their children were happiest when Santana encouraged them to take one picture making silly faces. The ceremony went without a hitch, all the guests sighing when Ivy saw Blaine waiting at the altar for Kurt and ran to him despite Tina's best efforts to catch her, hugging Blaine's leg and waving when Kurt started working, pale and trembling but smiling from ear to ear, taking Blaine's hands and kissing him despite it not being in the plan. They made their vows, exchanged rings and kissed to a chorus of applause, cheering, wolf-whistles and stamping feet.

The reception kicked off with Kurt's speech, as the man of the hour. He stood, glass of champagne in hand, and boldly announced, "Now, I know everyone's only here to get drunk and hook up in various strange combinations, but you should know I won't be partaking in any drinking tonight. And not just because I don't fancy a flight to Paris with a hangover." He smiled down at Blaine, edging onto the arm of his chair, and asked, "Is now a good time to make the announcement that I'm pregnant?"

Grabbing his husband and pulling him into his lap for a thorough kiss, Blaine just smiled when he felt their children tugging impatiently on his arms, eager to get to the promised dancing portion of the occasion. Despite the sleepless nights and the struggles to make ends meet and the whispered arguments when they'd just gotten both twins to sleep at the same time and the days when he came home to Kurt strung out and crying, this was his life. This was what he'd chosen for himself on that long ago day when he'd seen the smile slip onto a face grey with misery.

And this was what he'd chosen for the rest of his life.