Chapter 14

That much stronger

.

78 days

February turned to March the week after Regionals, and all at once it hit Blaine just how close his surgery was. Counting the days out on his calendar, he realized that he had less than a hundred days left. A lot less. Blaine's stomach did an excited backflip. Seventy-eight days to be exact. It was still over two months, yes, but when he compared it to the six years he had lived with chest dysphoria, it almost seemed like nothing.

That night, before going to sleep, Blaine ripped off the first sheet of paper on his newly made countdown calendar, smiling at the new number that appeared on the sheet beneath it, written in large, neat numbers and letters. 77 days now.

.

76 days

On the first Sunday of March, Blaine turned eighteen, and so the night before, he threw a party at his house with all of New Directions and every Warbler invited. While not everyone could make it, there still ended up being almost thirty people at his house that night, a fact his mom was none too happy about, but Blaine insisted that he couldn't leave anyone off the invite list, because both choirs represented an important part of him.

The presence of both the Warblers and the New Directions in a casual setting proved strange for everyone at first, each group keeping mostly to themselves, and Blaine wondered for a while if he had made a mistake in bringing his two worlds together – if maybe they weren't meant to coexist anywhere but inside him – but then Nick took the plunge and asked Sugar to dance, which seemed to break everyone's hesitation and mistrust, and pretty soon Blaine's old friends were mingling with his new ones as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Later, when they had devoured about a dozen large pizzas collectively, there was more music and dancing, and eventually they turned off the stereo, instead taking turns to provide the music themselves. There were mini singing competitions with teams formed by random criteria such as "people who are wearing red" or "people who are only children." There was a game of Truth Or Dare that Blaine wasn't sure after whether he wanted to preserve in or cleanse from his mind forever. There was laughter and chatter and good-natured teasing from the New Directions about having beat the Warblers once more. Eventually exhaustion hit Blaine, and he collapsed into the sofa, letting Kurt wrap his arms around him, content to just let the rest of the night pass by him in one big happy blur.

.

75 days

The grandfather clock in the living room struck midnight just as the door closed behind the last party guest. The only person remaining was Kurt, who had been given permission to stay the night, and Blaine turned to him now. 'That was fun,' he said through a tired but genuine smile.

'I know,' Kurt said. 'And inviting the Warblers was a great idea. I'm surprised how well everyone got along.'

'Yes.' Blaine smiled. 'Even you and Sebastian.'

'I'd call it civil,' Kurt said somewhat stiffly.

'I'd call that a great start,' Blaine countered gently.

Kurt made a face, Sebastian clearly still not his favorite person. 'Why did you decide to be friends with him again?' he asked as they both headed up the stairs. 'No one would say you owed it to him.'

'I know I don't,' Blaine said. 'But forgiveness isn't about owing or deserving. It's about moving forward in the best way possible.' Blaine pushed open the door to the bathroom, lowering his voice as he continued, because his mom was sleeping in the next room. 'I think he's genuinely trying now, and who am I to discourage that? And there's enough hate in the world as it is.'

Kurt rolled his eyes fondly, and Blaine looked at him in bemusement. Kurt gave a small smile, and as he leaned across to grab his toothbrush from the cup on the sink, he placed a gentle kiss on Blaine's cheek. 'I love you.'

.

A short while later the two of them were in Blaine's bedroom, Blaine watching idly from the bed while Kurt finished his skincare routine.

'It won't be the same next year, will it?' Blaine said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

'What won't, honey?' Kurt asked from his place in front of the mirror.

'Birthdays and stuff. There'll only be a few of us left here, and everyone else will be scattered all over the country.' Blaine picked at a loose thread in his bedding. 'You'll be in New York...'

'So everyone comes back for a reunion,' Kurt said, screwing the cap on his final product. He turned and walked over to join Blaine on the bed. 'We're a family.'

'People can't come back every time it's someone's birthday.'

Kurt opened his mouth, looking for a moment like he wanted to argue the truth of Blaine's words, but then he closed it again. He gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of the head. 'Anyway, it's a whole year away, let's not worry just yet.'

Blaine looked away. 'Actually, it's only a few months away.'

'Okay, but it's not now,' Kurt said, touching Blaine's hand and making Blaine look around again. 'Right now it's well past midnight, and it's officially your birthday.' A mischievous smile played on Kurt's lips, a smile that made Blaine appreciate that they were behind closed doors. 'Time for your present, birthday boy.'

Blaine quirked an eyebrow. Kurt had already given him his present several hours ago along with everyone else.

Kurt shifted on the bed, moving further into Blaine's space, and his eyes followed his hand up the sleeves of Blaine's pajamas, touch feather-light. His eyes were dark and his voice was low when he spoke again, 'I meant the one you can't open in front of other people.'

Blaine made an involuntary noise in his throat, and in one smooth movement he maneuvered Kurt onto his back and himself on top of him. Blaine let his hands roam Kurt's torso appreciatively as he moved further and further down, stopping when his face was inches from Kurt's crotch, hands resting on his belt. Blaine smirked and hummed low in his throat. 'Mm, happy birthday to me.'

.

66 days

Blaine smiled when he pulled into the driveway and saw that his dad's car was parked there. Home again then. His dad had returned home briefly to attend the New Directions' Regionals performance, but he had left again so quickly that Blaine hadn't really had a chance to speak to him, so he felt like it had been much longer than a couple of weeks since he had seen his dad.

He practically skipped to the front door and unlocked it quickly. At first glance the house appeared quiet, but Blaine spotted his dad's shoes in the hall and knew that he must be around somewhere. He made quick work of shedding his own shoes and jacket and was just about to proceed upstairs when his eyes were drawn to a piece of paper lying on the small table where keys and mail were usually discarded.

Blaine stepped closer, letting his school bag slip off his shoulder to the floor. Picking up the item from the table and inspecting it more closely, he found that it was an invitation to a christening. The paper was creased in places and the folds were old, which had to mean that the invitation had arrived some time ago. On top of it it, however, was a newer-looking post-it note with two words in his mom's handwriting. Call Andrew.

Blaine frowned, confused as to what his uncle had to do with a christening, but found his answer when he lifted the post-it note and read the text it covered. The invitation was from Blaine's cousin, Katie, and her husband, which made the child in question Andrew's grandchild. His second grandchild; Blaine vividly remembered the christening of the Katie's first child. He had been a few months shy of fifteen, and while he had not been keen on going, he had gone because his dad's family was the kind where you attended that sort of event whether you wanted to or not. Because it was proper or something. Blaine sighed. And now another one.

Except there was no way that he or his parents could make it to this one, he realized suddenly as he read and re-read the date. May twentieth. They would all be in San Francisco then, Blaine recovering from surgery. For half a second Blaine felt relieved that he wouldn't have to go to another of those stupid events and pretend to like everyone, but then he re-read his mom's note, and suddenly the words sounded ominous. Call Andrew.

.

63 days

Three days later Blaine and his parents were gathered around the table in the kitchen. Blaine had been invited to Kurt's house for Friday night dinner, but his dad had insisted that he stay home tonight, and a few bites into his meal, Blaine realized why.

'I have news,' his dad said, making both Blaine and his mom look up. 'I got the promotion! They just announced it today.'

'Dad, that's great,' Blaine said, smiling. Finally they could be a little bit more like a normal family. 'When do you start?'

'April, so in a few weeks. And no more getting back on the road. It's all family dinners from now on,' his dad said, smiling and indicating the meal they were currently sharing. 'And what with you off to college in a year and a half, the raise won't exactly be unwelcome either.'

'That's fantastic, dear,' his mom said, but there was no joy in her voice, and Blaine looked around to find her smile stiff. 'Mommy will be so proud.'

His dad's smile froze. 'Grace, please. Not now.'

'That's your response to everything, isn't it?' Blaine's mom snapped. '"Not now." You've been telling your family your family "not now" for thirty years. Heaven forbid you'd have to actually deal with them, right?' At her last words, Blaine's mom put down her knife and fork with a clatter and stood up, taking her plate with her even though they had just barely sat down.

'That's easy for you to say,' his dad shot at her back. 'Your family is different.'

Blaine looked back and forth between his parents, confused. Hadn't they been celebrating his dad's promotion a moment ago? 'Guys, what...'

'Sweetie, perhaps you should go to your room,' his mom said, appearing at his side and reaching for Blaine's plate.

'No, I'm not finished,' Blaine said, pushing her hand away. 'And I'm old enough to know what's going on, even- especially if it's about me.'

'What makes you think it's about you?' his dad said.

Blaine gave him a wry smile. 'Isn't it always?' The silence that followed only confirmed Blaine's suspicion. 'You told Uncle Andrew why we can't come to that christening, right?'

'How did-' His dad shook his head. Clearly, how Blaine knew was not important right now. 'I did.'

'And he told Grandma?'

His dad worried his lip for a second. 'Pretty much.'

Blaine grimaced and continued in a would-be bored voice, 'And now she's threatening to disinherit you or something.'

'Well, nothing quite that extreme,' his dad said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. 'But she's worried. In her own way.'

There was a loud noise by the sink as Blaine's mom put down her glass suddenly and turned around, looking livid. 'Oh my god, John, stop it. Stop defending her.'

'I'm not, I'm just-'

'She threatened to call social services,' his mom said, voice shaking.

'He's eighteen, nothing would happen.'

'That's not the point!' she yelled. 'Point is you barely defended yourself or your son. How long are you going to let this continue?'

Blaine kept quiet, but found himself wondering the same thing.

.

48 days

Blaine shut the door behind himself and Kurt, and a moment later he collapsed on his bed. He lay there for a moment, looking tiredly up at the ceiling.

'Am I imagining things,' Kurt said, 'or was that dinner really, really tense?'

'You're not imagining it,' Blaine said and propped himself up on his elbows to look at Kurt. 'My grandmother called again today. Mom's not happy.'

'Is she still going on about your surgery?'

'Yep,' Blaine said with more nonchalance than he felt. 'Apparently my desire to have top surgery is akin to wanting to cut off your own foot.'

Kurt rolled his eyes. 'People are idiots.'

'That they are,' Blaine said as he sat up and slid off the bed. He moved over to his desk where his countdown calendar stood propped up against his computer. Next to it in a neat pile lay the sheets he had ripped off this month. He liked to keep them around and look at them sometimes to remind himself how far he had already come.

'You know,' Kurt said as he came up behind Blaine, wrapping his arms around Blaine's middle, and Blaine melted into the touch. 'There are apps for this sort of thing.'

Blaine smiled and picked up the calendar. 'I know, but I like it being a real, physical thing where I get to rip off another sheet every day.' He brought his fingers to the paper, slowly tracing the number 48 as he spoke. 'It makes me feel like I'm not just watching and waiting, but actively participating.' Blaine gave sheepish shrug. 'I don't know, it's silly, I guess.'

Blaine made to put the calendar back, but Kurt took it from him. 'No, no. I think I get it.' Blaine turned around to find Kurt grinning at him and waving the calendar. 'Maybe I should make one of these for myself. You know, for New York? Except I don't really have an exact date of course.'

Blaine bit his lip, watching Kurt's excited expression. Then he took the calendar from Kurt and put it carefully back on the desk before taking a few steps back, putting some space between himself and Kurt. 'Okay, I'm gonna say something, because you're always telling me how I need to be more open about how I feel and such.'

'Of course,' Kurt said, closing the gap between them and taking Blaine's hand. 'You can tell me anything.'

'I just don't want to sound like a selfish jerk here, so don't take this the wrong way.' Blaine moved to sit on the bed, his hand slipping out of Kurt's as he went. 'I'm not trying to- I'm just trying to explain what it feels like from where I'm standing. Or' – Blaine indicated the bed – 'sitting, I suppose.'

'Okay.' Kurt sat on the bed next to Blaine. 'Did I miss the actual thing in there somewhere?'

Blaine smiled carefully. 'No, it's coming.' He took a deep breath and looked up into Kurt's eyes. Might as well do this properly. 'I get that you're excited about New York. It's where you need to be, and you absolutely should be excited about going. I just-' Blaine averted his eyes, searching for the right words. 'Sometimes I feel like you're excited about leaving me behind, or at least that it doesn't bother you much.'

'Oh. Oh, no.' Kurt shifted on the bed to more properly face Blaine. 'Honey, no.'

'I know you said you don't want to break up, but... that's all you've said.' Blaine couldn't stop the emotion from welling up inside him now that he was saying it out loud. 'You don't seem to want to talk about it, but it's a whole year, Kurt. A whole year where I'm here, and you're there, but you don't seem worried at all.'

Kurt regarded Blaine for a long moment. Then he smiled softly and took Blaine's hand in his. 'I'm not worried. Because I love you, and if there's one thing I've learned in the past four months, it's that we make things work regardless of anything that's thrown at us. But...' – Kurt moved again, this time crawling up to the head of the bed and leaning against the headboard. He extended his arms, indicating that Blaine should join him, and Blaine did so happily, melting into Kurt's arms. 'If it's bothering you, we can talk about it. We'll figure it out, I promise.'

.

37 days

Stifling a yawn, Blaine stepped into the kitchen, going straight for the coffee pot, but almost stopped short at the sight of his dad sitting at the kitchen table. 'Oh. Morning,' he said through another yawn.

'Morning, buddy,' his dad said. He pointed over his shoulder, keeping his eyes on the piece of paper he was reading. 'Coffee's fresh.'

'Thanks,' Blaine said and moved to grab himself a cup, shaking his head a little at the fact that after a week and a half, he still hadn't quite gotten used to sharing his morning routine with his dad. 'Mom gone already?'

'Mm-hm. Early meeting.'

'Right, of course,' Blaine said, before taking his first precious sip of coffee and turning to regard his dad. He liked these mornings, he had decided. He liked his dad's stories about office life, which Blaine returned with updates about how he was faring in school and how the other kids were treating him (still the odd look or comment, but by and large his peers left him alone).

Today, however, his dad seemed distracted and not in his usual good mood, so Blaine kept quiet and focused his thoughts on deciding on something for breakfast.

'She cannot be serious,' his dad muttered then, breaking the silence and making Blaine look around.

'What?' Blaine asked, abandoning his thoughts of breakfast and sitting down at the table to see what his dad was looking at. He was holding a brightly-colored leaflet in his hand, and Blaine's eyes widened when he saw the words on the front. 'Bible camp? Who sent that?'

His dad gave a small, mirthless smile. 'Guess.'

'Grandma?'

'Bingo.'

Blaine eyed the lengthy letter that lay on the table on front of his dad. 'What does she say?'

'Nothing you need to worry about,' his dad said, picking up the letter and folding it up.

'Dad,' Blaine said, voice even.

His dad looked at him for a long moment, but Blaine stared back, unrelenting. 'Fine. I guess you're old enough to decide for yourself.' Blaine's dad handed him the letter, which had Blaine narrowing his eyes in dislike within two sentences. 'The gist of it is that she spoke to the people in charge of this camp, and they'd be willing to "work with you."'

Blaine forced a laugh. 'Wow, that's nice of them.'

'I'm sorry, Blaine. You shouldn't have to deal with this.' His dad's warm hand came to rest on Blaine's arm. Blaine kept his eyes on the letter. 'I wish I could just shut them all out of my life, but it's not that easy with family. You understand that, right?'

'Yeah, I do. But...' Blaine bit his lip. 'You're not going to let them convince you, are you?' Blaine scanned the letter again, his eyes drawn to words and phrases like "granddaughter" and "only out of concern," reading them over and over. 'You won't change your mind about the surgery?'

'No,' his dad said. He gripped Blaine's arm a little tighter until Blaine finally looked up. 'No, okay? I'd really rather that they all learn to accept it, but if they don't, they don't. You're having that surgery.'

'Right, okay,' Blaine said. He released a soft breath of air and smiled. 'Just checking.'

.

32 days

'Admit it,' Kurt said as he and Blaine exited Kurt's car and walked towards their destination. 'Whitney Week is ten times better than Michael Week.'

Blaine laughed, endeared by Kurt's enthusiasm. 'Aside from the fact that it doesn't take much to top a week where I was nearly blinded and fell out with some of my oldest friends, let's just see where this one goes. It's only Monday.'

'Fine, be all boring and reasonable,' Kurt said as he pushed open the door to Between The Sheets, making the bell ding. 'But you'll agree with me on Friday. Besides, aren't I always right?'

Blaine grinned and opened his mouth to make a witty retort, but was cut off by his phone ringing. He frowned at the display. 'Huh. It's not local.'

Kurt shrugged. 'Probably some telemarketer.'

Blaine hit the "answer" button, expecting to be able to brush off whoever it was quickly. 'Hello?'

'Hello, Amber.'

'G-Grandma?' Blaine said, watching as Kurt's eyebrows shot up. Blaine covered the phone with his hand and spoke in a low voice, 'You go ahead. I'll be right there.'

Kurt looked like he wanted to protest, but did as asked, and Blaine moved into the shop a little, finding a quiet corner where he hoped he wouldn't bother anyone. When he brought the phone up to his ear again, his grandmother was talking seriously at him, and he realized that he hadn't taken in a single word beyond the first two. Not that he couldn't guess.

'...and you need- Are you even listening to me, Amber?'

'My name is Blaine,' he said through gritted teeth.

'It says Amber on your birth certificate, you silly girl,' his grandmother snapped.

'Actually it doesn't. Not anymore,' Blaine pointed out.

'That's hardly the point.'

'You just-' Blaine made a frustrated sound in his throat. He turned around, eyes scanning the shop for Kurt, and he found him, out of earshot but there, and the thought grounded Blaine. To know that his grandmother was just a voice on the other end of a phone that he could hang up at any time. He forced a polite tone when he spoke again, 'What do you want?'

'This ridiculous surgery that you're planning,' she said, and already Blaine was struggling to keep his cool. 'Since your father seems unable to talk sense into you-'

'He's not unable to, he's not trying.'

'Watch your tone with me, young lady.'

'I'm not a lady!' Blaine yelled and several people turned to stare at him. Kurt, who had been chatting to a blonde boy in glasses, looked over as well, a concerned look on his face. Blaine made a dismissive gesture with his hand before turning into the corner, continuing in a lower voice, 'When are you going to understand that?'

'I understand that you have a real problem. I don't know what happened to make you feel like this but, sweetheart, this can't go on.' His grandmother's voice shook with emotion suddenly. 'You need help.'

'No, I don't.' Blaine's voice trembled also, not because he doubted his own words, but because his grandmother still did. 'Look, I know this doesn't fit your world view, but I'm not asking you to join the pride parade. I'm just asking you to accept that Amber's gone. There is no Amber. There's just Blaine, but he's just as much your grandchild as Amber was. Please, just try. You should at least want to try. This is who I am.'

'Who you are is a girl,' his grandmother said, the emotion gone again. 'That is a fact. And this elaborate game of pretend doesn't change that.'

'You're the one pretending, Grandma,' Blaine said, losing his patience. 'Who's so desperately clinging on to what's normal. And for what? I'm happy like this. Why is that not enough?'

The pause that followed Blaine's words was long, and time seemed to slow down as Blaine allowed himself a snapshot of the moment – the bustling of the customers around him, the classical music playing on a stereo somewhere, Kurt over there, in conversation with some guy and glancing Blaine's way every few seconds – because maybe this was the moment when his grandmother finally accepted him, and he would want to remember that forever.

'It's just not right,' his grandmother said finally. And just like that time was moving at regular speed again.

'Well, that is just the winning argument right there,' Blaine said, something inside him snapping. 'You've opened my eyes. I see now. I am a girl, wow.'

'This isn't a joke.'

'No, it's not. It's really not.' Blaine turned and his eyes found Kurt again. He was browsing the music and making what looked like polite conversation with that same blonde boy. 'I think we're done here, Grandma.'

'Wait. This surgery-'

'Goodbye.' Blaine ended the call and stood for a few moments, breathing shakily. Why did he always get his hopes up? He shook his head a little and moved towards Kurt just as the boy he had been talking to turned and left. 'Hey,' he said when he reached Kurt's side.

Kurt turned towards him. 'Hey. Everything okay?'

'Yeah, it's fine. Or,' Blaine corrected himself, 'it's not fine, really. More of the same, you know. But I am. I'm fine.' Blaine nodded towards the boy who was now browsing another section of the shop. 'Who was that?'

'Oh, just some guy. Chandler something.' Kurt cocked his head. 'Actually, I think he might have been coming on to me.'

'Well, can you blame him?' Blaine ran his fingers lightly down Kurt's arm. 'You're gorgeous. So what'd you say?'

Kurt smiled. 'I pointed to you, and told him that I'm very happily taken. And' – Kurt turned back towards the rows of sheet music and spent a moment filing through them before he found what he was looking for – 'it made me think of the perfect Whitney song for us.'

'Us? A duet?' Blaine said, smiling and reaching for the sheet music in Kurt's hand. 'Do tell.'

Kurt handed it to Blaine, giving a coy smile. 'All The Man That I Need.'

.

21 days

'Hey,' Blaine's dad called, coming into the hall from the living room just as Blaine closed the front door behind himself and Kurt. 'I got your old suitcase down from the attic. I put it in your room if you want to get started on packing this weekend.'

Blaine hung his jacket, avoiding his dad's eye, and his response was dull and disinterested. 'Whatever, I'm not going to Nationals.'

'What, why?' Kurt called after Blaine, who was already headed to his room, taking the stairs two steps at a time. There was scrambling behind him, and once inside his room, he turned to find his dad and Kurt in the doorway.

'Blaine?' his dad said, his expression a mix of confusion and worry.

Blaine crossed his arms in front of his chest. 'We just got the info about the hotel we'll be staying at in Chicago.'

'Yeah,' Kurt said, looking from Blaine's dad to Blaine and stepping further into the room. 'And you're rooming with Artie, Rory and Sam. What's the problem?'

'They're not the problem, I am,' Blaine said and averted his eyes. 'I was so excited I didn't think- God, I'm so stupid.'

'Honey, they don't care.' Kurt stood right in front of Blaine, and he tried in vain to make eye contact. 'They know, remember?'

'There's a difference between knowing and seeing,' Blaine said, looking back at Kurt. It was not without reason that Blaine had attended every New Directions sleepover with the caveat that he would not actually spend the night. 'This is four days of being around New Directions and sharing a room with some of them. I can't wear my binder for that long. And if I did I'd be useless on stage anyway.'

'Have you spoken to your teacher about this?' Blaine's dad asked, stepping forward also. 'That... Mr. Schuester?'

Blaine grimaced. 'And what? They're not going to give me a private room, the school can't afford that.' Blaine let out a mirthless huff of laughter. 'And where would that leave me anyway? Not exactly part of the group.' Blaine gave a tired sigh and sank down on the bed. He looked at the floor as he waved a hand in front of his chest. 'I just wish these were gone already. I know there was no other way of doing it and have me still be fit for Nationals, but I just... I hate this.'

'I know it's tough, buddy,' Blaine's dad said as he crouched down in front of Blaine. 'But I also know you, and you don't give up that easily. Listen' – Blaine's dad put a hand on his shoulder, prompting Blaine to look up – 'go talk to your teacher on Monday. I'm sure he'll understand the situation. Tell him if it's a matter of money, your mom and I are more than willing to pay. And if he won't help you just give him my number, and I'll yell at him until he does.'

Blaine looked away again, mumbling, 'You can't even yell at your own family.'

'What?'

Blaine looked back at his dad and spoke in a quiet voice. 'They've been calling me.'

'What, "they"?' Kurt said. 'I thought it was just your grandmother that one time.'

Blaine shook his head slowly. 'Uncle Peter and Andrew. Even some of their kids. Lucy, Jackson, Katie. They've all been trying their hardest to dissuade me from the surgery.'

His dad looked lost for words for a moment. Then, 'Why didn't you tell me?'

'I guess I wanted to prove that I could take care of it myself, but I just...'

'Don't tell me they got to you?' Kurt said, eyes narrowed, though Blaine knew it wasn't directed at him as such.

'No, I want it. I know I do. They just-' Blaine ran a hand across his face. 'They keep telling me what a huge, dangerous step surgery is and arguing the morals of plastic surgery and throwing all these statistics at me. People who had bad results, people who regretted, people who didn't wake up again, and it's...' Blaine rose and went to his desk, staring for a moment at his calendar. The number on there had never seemed quite so frightening. 'I can't really explain it. It's just screwing with my head a little.' He turned and looked at Kurt. 'I'm not sure I'm even in the right headspace to perform at Nationals. I might just ruin it for the rest of you.'

'The only way you'll ruin it is by not being there.' Kurt moved in front of Blaine again and sent him an encouraging smile. 'And listen, I know you, I've seen you. You thrive on stage. There's no way that sitting Nationals out will be better for your state of mind than actually performing.'

Blaine bit his lip, watching Kurt's earnest expression. 'I know, you're right. I want to go, I just...' Blaine blew out a long breath of air. 'I'll talk to Mr. Schue, I guess.'

.

18 days

Three days later, at the start of that day's glee rehearsal, Blaine raised his hand and brought up the issue. 'The school wouldn't have to pay for it,' he said. 'I can have my parents do it. I just wouldn't want to make anyone uncomfortable.'

Mr. Schue nodded along to Blaine's words. 'Sure, Blaine. We can-'

'No one here is uncomfortable, Blaine,' Mike said, all earnest eyes when Blaine looked around at him.

'Yeah, maybe not now, but...' Blaine took a breath, reminding himself that the choir room was his safe space. 'My surgery is not until the week after, and I can't bind 24/7.'

'So?' Sam said.

'So you've only seen me during the day like this, and I wouldn't want to subject you-'

'Alright,' Puck, who sat next to Blaine, broke in. 'Show of hands anyone who doesn't mind Anderson unwinding around us.'

Blaine's mouth opened and closed wordlessly as he watched every one of his teammates raise their hand without hesitation.

'Also, if it helps,' Santana said. 'You won't be alone, since we all know that Finn has a serious case of man boobs.'

'Hey!' Rachel called indignantly, while Finn opened his mouth, but seemed to decide against saying anything. Santana simply shrugged.

'Right, okay.' Blaine let out a shaky laugh. 'I guess I'm staying put then.'

'Right on!' Sam said, clapping his hands together.

'Damn straight,' Puck said, and he clapped Blaine on the back. 'You're one of us now, bro.'

.

8 days

On their first night in Chicago, Blaine spent a long time in the bathroom, supposedly getting ready for bed, although in actuality he spent most of it staring at himself in the mirror. Despite his friends' nonchalance on the subject, the thought of being binder-less around them, even for the few seconds it would take him to exit the bathroom and slip under the covers of his bed, filled Blaine with anxiety. Just because they were okay with it, didn't mean that he was.

Of course Blaine couldn't exactly stay in here for the rest of the night, and the longer he did, the more awkward finally coming out was going to be. It was with that in mind, a deep breath, and a silent "thank god" that at least the rooms were en suite, that Blaine pushed the bathroom door open and went back into the dimly lit hotel room, holding his day clothes in front of his chest.

A few steps in, however, he stopped short, brow furrowed in confusion. Two of the four single beds had been pushed together, forming a makeshift double bed. Meanwhile Rory's things were gone, and Rory himself was nowhere to be found either. Blaine looked over at Artie and Sam who were casually going about unpacking their things and preparing for the night themselves. 'Guys, what...?'

'We thought you seemed nervous,' Artie said.

'So you kicked Rory out?' Blaine asked, perplexed.

Artie shrugged. 'He volunteered to switch rooms.'

Behind Blaine the door to the hallway opened and closed, and just then Blaine noticed a familiar suitcase on the floor next to the newly formed bed. His eyes flickered and caught Sam's, and Sam winked at him. 'Just don't tell Mr. Schue,' Sam said.

Blaine turned around and there was Kurt, carrying what looked to be the last of his possessions and wearing a soft smile. 'Surprise.'

.

5 days

'National champions, baby!'

The hotel room where all of the New Directions was gathered exploded in cheer as it had done a number of times throughout the afternoon and evening, although with the lateness of the hour, some of the enthusiasm was beginning to wear off.

Blaine stifled a yawn against Kurt's chest and glanced around at his friends, taking in the scene before and around him. Sam and Finn were sitting on the floor watching – apparently hilarious – Youtube videos on someone's laptop. Rachel, Quinn and Tina could be heard through the open door to the bathroom, giggling about god knew what. Everyone else was scattered across the four beds – not a care given to whose bed was whose, because everyone was welcome everywhere – talking quietly in small groups and occasionally shouting something to someone across the room.

Blaine himself was curled up with Kurt on one half of their makeshift double bed, wearing only slacks and a loose-fitting t-shirt, binder thrown carelessly into his suitcase hours ago, while Santana lounged with Brittany at the foot of the bed, offering occasional remarks on Brittany and Mike's very serious-looking discussion – which was either about dancing technique or unicorns, Blaine had lost track some time ago.

As he lay there, head resting on Kurt's chest and fighting to keep his eyes open, the thought occurred to Blaine that eight months ago, when he had transferred to McKinley, he never would have imagined this moment. The National champions part he might have dared to imagine – he had grown up with Cooper after all, and never let it be said that Blaine Anderson wasn't ambitious – but what he hadn't dreamt off was what being here would feel like, that he would be so happy not just to have won Nationals, but to have won it with the New Directions.

.

2 days

'I can't believe you leave tomorrow,' Kurt said as he and Blaine stood in Blaine's room on Wednesday night, packing the last of Blaine's things. 'Time has flown by, hasn't it?'

'Speak for yourself,' Blaine said with a breathy laugh and indicated the calendar on his desk.

Kurt smiled. 'All right, point taken.'

'It does feel kind of... unreal though. Two days,' Blaine said. 'Less than forty-eight hours.'

'Are you nervous?' Kurt asked.

Blaine shook his head. 'Not really. I mean, a little bit, yeah, but not as much as I was.' Blaine gave a wry smile. 'It helped when I stopped listening to my relatives. Plus, they've stopped calling now, thank god.'

'Finally gave up, did they?'

'Seems so,' Blaine said as he tossed a final pair of socks into his bag. He zipped it closed and gave it two small pats. 'There. All done.' Blaine blew out a shaky breath of air as suddenly the enormity of the situation hit him. 'Okay, I'm getting kind of nervous now.'

Kurt reached out his hand wordlessly, and Blaine took it without question, sitting down on the bed next to him. 'You'll be just fine,' Kurt said as he ran a soothing hand along Blaine's back. 'I wish I could come with you though. Be there when you wake up.'

'I know. Damned school,' Blaine said through a small smile although he meant the words too. Getting top surgery was already a dream come true, but having Kurt there with him would have added the cherry on top. 'But you've been there up until now, and you'll be there in a week when I come home. That's what really matters.'

.

1 day

The moment the plane touched down in San Francisco, Blaine felt a thrill in his stomach. He peeked out the window, and even though everything was gray, wide open spaces and nondescript airport buildings, he thought it might just be the most beautiful sight ever.

'One step closer, huh, buddy?' his dad said from the seat next over.

'Yeah.' Blaine looked around at his dad and his mom next to him by the aisle. Another surge of happiness went through him, and he was both unable and unwilling to stifle the smile that appeared on his lips.

The smile stayed as they disembarked the plane and went to collect their luggage, and it earned Blaine a number of strange looks as they moved through the airport. He knew he must look a bit crazy, smiling so widely at what appeared to be nothing it all, but Blaine couldn't care, because he was here in San Francisco now, the moment he had been waiting for so long almost upon him, and when he left the city again next week, his life would have been forever changed for the better.

.

Day of surgery

Blaine woke early on Friday morning to the light snoring of his roommate, a transman in his late twenties who had been a few hours post-op when Blaine had been admitted the day before. They had chatted briefly, but Aiden, as his name was, had been drugged out and tired and thus not very talkative.

Blaine found his phone on the table next to the bed and when he saw that it was only just past five, he let out a silent groan. Breakfast – let alone his surgery, which required six hours of fasting – was still hours away. He supposed he should get back to sleep, but now that he was awake, he felt so bright and alert that he couldn't fathom how he had been asleep two minutes previously, so he resigned himself to passing the time by playing games on his phone and texting Kurt who was three hours ahead of him and bound to be awake also.

By six o'clock Blaine realized that his phone was almost out of battery, and he just managed to text his mom, asking her to please bring his charger when she and his dad came over later that day, before it died. With nothing that didn't require light or noise to distract him now, Blaine fell into thought about his coming surgery. He conjured up images of what the result might look like; imagined standing shirtless in front of a mirror and not feeling dysphoric; fantasized how sex might be different in the future.

At seven o'clock they were finally officially woken by a nurse. Aiden grumbled initially about being woken up, but once he had been served his morning coffee and was eating breakfast along with Blaine, he turned out to be a chatty fellow with a story quite different from Blaine's. He was older, but not as far into his transition as Blaine, and he was bisexual with a long term girlfriend. They ended up spending the next few hours sharing and comparing experiences.

By ten o'clock Blaine's parents had arrived, and soon his phone was alive again and practically glowing with good luck and well wishes from his friends back in Ohio. Cooper called to wish Blaine good luck, and he promised to make it down for a visit before Blaine left San Francisco next week.

By eleven o'clock Aiden's girlfriend had arrived also, and soon after Aiden was discharged. He left Blaine with a good-luck fist bump and a promise that he would come check up on him in a couple of days, since they were staying at the same hotel.

At noon, as he entered his final two hours before surgery, Blaine emptied the glass of water by his bedside. This was the last fluid he was allowed before surgery, and as he put the glass down, his mind swam with the knowledge that the next time he had anything to eat or drink, he would be post-op. It was really happening.

As the clock hit one in the afternoon, the final countdown began, and Blaine started to get fidgety and unable to hold a conversation for longer than a minute at a time. The TV had been turned on, and though Blaine tried to pay attention it, he mostly found himself staring at the little clock in the corner of the screen, willing time to move faster.

A little before two o'clock Dr. Blackstone – Blaine's surgeon – entered, and finally, finally,finally things seemed to be happening. Dr. Blackstone went over the procedure one more time, and last minute questions were posed and answered.

'Okay, that should be all,' Dr. Blackstone said and indicated to a flushing Blaine that he could put the gown back on. 'I will see you in the OR in a little while. A nurse will...' The doctor trailed off, distracted, as a commotion outside the room intensified.

'Ma'am, I'm telling you, you can't just-'

'Let go of me, you imbecile, that's my granddaughter you're about to cut up.'

Blaine's mouth fell open, and he looked around at his parents, both sets of eyes wide with shock.

'Mom, it's in here, I think,' came another voice from the hallway.

'Sir, please. You can't go in there.'

'Oh, god,' Blaine's dad said as he ran a hand across his face.

'Looks like someone took a detour on their way to cousin Katie's,' Blaine said darkly.

Seconds later the door burst open, and there stood Blaine's eighty-year-old grandmother. She was followed moments later by a whole crowd of people; Blaine's uncles and his cousin Lucy as well as their spouses. A nurse came trailing after them, hurrying inside and looking apologetically at the doctor. 'Sir, I'm so sorry, they just...' She turned to the group and attempted to gently guide Blaine's grandmother out of the room. 'Ma'am. Sirs. Please, this is a private room.'

'Get your hands off me, woman,' his grandmother snapped, making a movement as though to swat off a fly. 'I'm allowed to see my own granddaughter.'

'Grandson,' Blaine's dad muttered so low that Blaine didn't think anyone else heard.

'Now, ma'am,' Dr. Blackstone said and stepped forward, hands raised in peace. 'I understand this can be a difficult thing to process. Trust me, I've been doing this for thirty years, and I've seen my share of distraught relatives, but let me assure you that this' – he indicated Blaine – 'is a young man who has thought carefully-'

'Oh, please. Spare me your platitudes.' With a roll of her eyes, Blaine's grandmother turned away from the doctor and towards the bed where Blaine was lying, flanked by a parent on either side. He prepared himself for another verbal attack and to defend himself, but she let her eyes pass over him like he was air, apparently deciding that he was such a lost cause that speaking to him directly would be pointless. She looked instead at Blaine's dad. 'You think this makes her a man?'

'No,' his dad said, speaking in a dangerous tone that Blaine rarely heard him use. He stood up and took a few steps closer to the old woman, towering over her. On Blaine's other side, his mom covered his hand with her own, stroking gently with her thumb while her eyes followed her husband's every movement. 'I think it makes him happy. He's a man because he says so.'

Just as Blaine's dad finished speaking, running feet could be heard outside and a second later two young, familiar faces appeared in the doorway.

'Mommy, the vending machine's broken,' Paige said as she ran up to Lucy. She pulled at her arm and waved what appeared to be a fifty-dollar bill. 'I'm hungry.'

Meanwhile, her older sister, Jessica, had stopped short and was looking around the room, taking in the scene. 'What's going on?' Her eyes found Blaine's. 'Are you sick?'

Blaine shook his head. 'No, I-'

'Girls, go wait outside,' Lucy said, prying Paige's hands off her. She looked at her husband. 'Michael, can you...?'

Lucy's husband nodded and grabbed his daughters' hands. 'Girls, come on, let's go find something to eat, okay?'

'But, Daddy, what's wrong with Blaine?' Paige said, she too sensing that something was off with the situation.

'Many things, sweetheart,' Michael murmured.

Blaine's dad had been keeping still the entire time, eyes focused on Blaine's grandmother as though she was the only person there, but Michael's words seemed to have the effect of jerking him out of this trance. He took several steps forward and raised his hand in a way that might have made Blaine fear violence if he hadn't known his dad better. 'You- How dare-'

'John,' Blaine's mom said, voice tense. Blaine couldn't tell if she was encouraging his dad or telling him to take it easy.

'Why's Uncle John mad?' Paige asked, and the little girl's voice seemed to ground Blaine's dad somewhat as he lowered his hand and took a small step back, though he was still breathing heavily.

'You see, John?' Blaine grandmother said, indicating the scene around them. Tension and alarm in the adults' faces. Fear and worry in the children's. 'See what you have created? This is insanity.'

'No, Mother,' Blaine's dad said. 'It's real life, and it's not black and white, no matter how much you want it to be.' He shook his head, huffing out a humorless laugh. 'You know, I appreciated that it was difficult for you. We all had to adjust, but come on, it's been four years, and you're not even trying.'

'John,' Andrew said. 'Don't you think you oughta just relax and-'

'Stop talking, Drew,' his dad snapped. It was as though a fire had been lit inside him, and now there was no stopping him. He looked around at each of his estranged family members in turn, making it clear that he was speaking to all of them. 'Listen, I don't care what biology says, I don't care what society says, and I am so far past caring what you all say.' He looked around at Blaine, and their eyes met briefly. 'Blaine is my son, and that's all there is to it. If you can't support that, if you can't even respect that enough to call him by his proper name and pronouns, then thank you and goodbye. There's the door.'

The silence following these words stretched out for a long moment, no one moving a muscle. Then Blaine's grandmother turned her gaze to Blaine, looking him over in a less than polite manner. When their eyes met, Blaine saw disgust mixed with pity, and though he couldn't pretend to himself that it didn't hurt, he crossed his arms over his chest and returned the gaze, unflinching.

'I can't,' she said and looked away. 'I can't support this.'

'Then I guess you and I finally have something in common,' Blaine's dad said. 'We both have two sons.' He sat back down in the chair next to Blaine's bed, twisting his body so as to block anyone that wasn't Blaine or his mom from view. 'You can all leave now.'

'You disappoint me, John,' his grandmother said, but his dad's only response was a wry smile. Blaine thought he knew what his dad was thinking. That she couldn't be nearly as disappointed in him as he was in her. Five second later she was gone.

'Well, I just hope you're happy with yourself, John,' Peter said. 'You're lucky you didn't give her a heart attack, you selfish-'

'Get out.'

Peter stood silent for a moment, before huffing out a breath, and then he and his wife were gone too.

Andrew and his wife exchanged uncomfortable looks that Blaine couldn't quite read. 'We should get going,' Andrew said finally. 'Katie will be expecting us soon.' Then they too were gone.

Lucy and her family lingered for a few short moments in which Lucy opened her mouth to say something only to shake her head and abandon the idea. 'Come on, let's leave these people alone,' she said, and they began filing out of the room.

'Mom, I don't understand why it's such a big deal,' Jessica said on the way out.

'Well, sweetie-'

'And don't just say I'm a child. Explain it to me properly.'

Lucy sighed. 'I'm honestly not sure how to anymore.'

'That's okay,' Paige's bright voice could be heard saying just as the door closed behind them. 'I can explain everything.'

.

Ten minutes later Blaine found himself in the operating room, undergoing the final preparations before his surgery. He was lying on the table, chest exposed and arms spread wide. Two nurses were talking to him, explaining what was happening as they administered drugs and sterilized the area they would be working on.

'All right,' a nurse said, speaking softly. 'I'm giving you the sedative now, and you'll start to drift off.' She touched his hand, stroking the inside of his wrist, a gesture that felt strangely out of place to Blaine. 'Don't be scared.'

He wouldn't have been able to explain why, because god knew he had thought plenty about this moment – this dreamless sleep he was about to experience – but now that he was here, he was not scared or nervous at all. Rather, when his eyes drifted closed a couple of seconds later, his lips were curved in a small serene smile.

.

A moment later Blaine heard voices, though he struggled to recognize them or make out what they were saying. Then it hit him: Not a moment later. Hours later. It was done.

With great difficulty Blaine managed to open his eyes. Everything was out of focus, but he registered that he was back in his room. There were people around him. His parents somewhere on his left, standing close together, and a nurse to his right, appearing so close that she blocked most other things out of view.

'Hi, there,' the nurse said. 'It's all over. Everything went great, they just wheeled you in. Now, the sedative is still wearing off, so don't worry if you still feel a bit fuzzy.' Blaine blinked several times, mind working hard to process her words. 'How are you feeling?'

'Fine. Sort of' – Blaine groaned as he tried to shift his body – 'heavy.'

'Good, that's normal. Any pain or nausea?'

Blaine shook his head. Words were difficult at the moment.

'Okay. The pain will come once the anesthesia wears off, so I want you to take these.' Seemingly out of nowhere the nurse produced a small plastic cup containing two pills and a larger cup of water. She watched as Blaine swallowed them obediently. 'Good boy. I'll leave you with your family now, but I'll be back to check on you later.'

Blaine followed the nurse with his eyes as she left, and his gaze landed on his parents. He could see them more clearly now, and he sent them a small smile before falling back onto his pillow, feeling like he could sleep forever. With the nurse gone, however, he saw for the first time what her presence at his side had shielded. Or rather who.

'Hi, honey.'

A smile spread on Blaine's lips as he watched the figure step forward and into sharper view. 'Mm, I'm dreaming,' he mumbled. 'Must be dreaming. I like this dream.'

A hand covered Blaine's, squeezing. 'It's not a dream.'

Blaine blinked, looking at the hand, then up at its owner. 'Kurt. You came.'

'My dad relented finally,' Kurt said. 'He seemed to think I wouldn't be able to concentrate in school anyway. I have to go back on Sunday, but I'm here now.'

Blaine's heart swelled, and though he felt like the moment deserved its own epic love poem, his mind was still too foggy to let him express everything he wanted to. The sleepy 'Yay, you're here,' that came out hardly seemed to suffice.

Kurt didn't seem to mind, however, and smiled fondly. 'How are you feeling?'

'Brilliant.' Blaine giggled, his mind swirling with thoughts and emotions, and somehow the first words that came to mind after that was, 'My dad's a superhero.'

Kurt laughed, caught between amusement and confusion, and he looked over at Blaine's parents on the other side of the bed.

'There may have been an incident with my family,' his dad said, and Blaine didn't miss the proud look his mom sent him.

'He was just...' Blaine breathed out, struggling to explain. 'With his words... he just...told them.' Blaine closed his eyes, replaying the moment in his mind. 'It was awesome.'

'I bet it was,' Kurt said.

Several moments passed in silence, before Blaine opened his eyes again. He raised his hand with difficulty, bringing it to his bandage-covered chest. It was done. It was really done. He let out a soft involuntary whimper.

'You okay, buddy?' his dad asked. 'Are you in pain?'

'Yeah. No. I'm just...' He met his dad's eye. 'I'm so happy.'

No one responded with anything more than soft murmurs, but Blaine took that as a good thing. It meant that they were right there with him.

'I wish I could go back in time,' Blaine said, eyes drifting half shut as sleep threatened to overtake him. 'To my twelve-year-old self. I'd tell him...' Blaine blinked, trying to stay awake and finish the thought, but this was a thought that would have been difficult to express even if he had been lucid and not half asleep. 'I'd say to him...'

.

Blaine found the words in his sleep.

He was standing inside what looked like a large animal cage. It was gray and bare, except for himself and a small boy who stood at the very edge of the cage, looking at the world beyond.

'They're not as strong as you think,' Blaine said, closing his hand around a metal bar.

The young boy looked up at him, the dark hair not quite his yet, nor the clothes, but the eyes – oh yes, the eyes, those were his. Big and frightened and young in so many ways, but his. The boy shook his head, rejecting Blaine's words and turned his gaze to the world outside where a boy his age was playing catch with his dad. 'I wish this wasn't happening to me.'

'I don't,' Blaine said.

The boy turned his head sharply, looking betrayed almost, bottom lip trembling.

'I know right now it seems like you might not even make it to tomorrow,' Blaine said, turning the boy away from the cage's edge and kneeling in front of him. 'But I promise you you will. You'll make it so much farther than that.'

.

THE END