Kurt Hummel thought the date, though tear-jerking, went considerably well. He learned so much about Blaine in one sitting, and believe it or not, it inspired him in every possible way. Here was this man, who had gone through so much, taking care of all these people and loving them with all his heart.

As soon as Kurt got home, he ran straight to his bed and plopped himself down with a goofy smile. Maybe he'd finally found it; the thing that would pull him from his stupor of bitchiness, and coldness. Not it...him. Maybe in time, that little girl, too.

Noting that no one was home, Kurt thought he would go ahead and get his rather embarrassing, weekly exercising over with. He changed out of his dressier attire, and opted for a pair of red, and white striped shorts that ended just below his ass, and a bedazzled tank-top.

He clicked on the radio, and let the words of the Witches of Oz sink into his bones as he stretched. However, before he could get too into the routine, his phone blared to life.

He jumped up from his position on the floor, and skipped over to his phone. It didn't say who was calling, so he went with the standard greeting:

"Hello, this is Kurt Hummel."

"Hello, Mr. Hummel, this is the New York Police Department calling from Bellevue Hospital Center. We'd prefer to talk to you in person at the aforementioned hospital, seeing as the news we are presenting to you is better explained as such." Kurt felt his blood run cold at the words. What if Rachel or Santana were hurt? What if Blaine was hurt? January? His boss? Oh, God.

"W-What...is someone hurt, am I in trouble?" Kurt shuttered. He sank into a chair, his breath coming in shallow. Then, however, he remembered Blaine and January lived right next-door, and ran out of his own apartment accordingly.

"Yes, Mr. Hummel, someone has been injured, and to answer your other question, no; from the evidence presented, as well as the information told, we are sure this wasn't on purpose." They replied as Kurt knocked on Blaine's door. The same man answered the door with a smile, but it quickly disappeared at the look on Kurt's face.

"Kurt, are you okay, who's on the phone? And what are you WEARING?" Blaine looked as if he was in a state of worry, and amusement. Kurt shook his head, and just leaned into Blaine's arm.

"Yes, okay. I'll be there as soon as I can. Goodbye." Kurt finished, and hung up. "Sorry, I'm kind of panicking right now, and I just needed to make sure you and January were okay. I know that sounds super creepy, since I've only know you for a short amount of time, but-,"

"Kurt, it's fine. What's wrong?" Blaine asked, pulling Kurt gently off of him to look him in the eye. Kurt took a shuddering breath.

"I just got a call from the NYPD, and apparently someone I know is in the hospital, and it must be pretty bad, because they told me the news would be better broke if I was there at the hospital." Kurt explained in a rush. Blaine blinked, looking a little astonished, and the shook his head.

"Then, Kurt, you've got to go. Here, I'll go with you. You'll need support, trust me; I know. Let me go get January, of course, I usually leave her here because at least one of my roommates are here, but they're all off at Warblers Inc., or the construction site, more rather." Blaine rambled, backing into the apartment, still holding Kurt's hands. "I'll be right back." With that, he disappeared down the tiny entrance hall.

Before Kurt knew it, and respectively snapping him back to reality, Blaine was back with January's sleeping head tucked into his neck, and her body in his arms. Kurt felt guilty for disrupting the girl's slumber, but he felt just as selfish for being glad Blaine was coming anyway.

............................................................................................................

"Mr. Hummel, thank you for getting here so quickly." The officer said. Kurt was a bit baffled. Had this woman really waited in the lobby just for him? Kurt shook his surprise away.

"Yeah, you're welcome. Now what the hell is going on?!" Kurt babbled, his eyes filling with tears. He didn't know what he'd do if either Rachel or Santana were hurt. What if his father had been coming up for a surprise visit, and was in an accident?

The officer seemed sympathetic, and led Kurt over to a chair and sat him down. Blaine followed warily, genuinely worried. He knew it should've been unnerving at how committed he'd become to Kurt from just one date. But he wasn't unnerved at all...it felt right.

"Sir, you are indeed one Kurt Elizabeth Hummel?" the woman asked. Kurt nodded quickly. "Kurt Hummel, do you recall a time during your eighteenth year when you went out drinking, and got considerably drunk, as much to the extent of not remembering much about that night?" The officer prodded. Kurt nodded again, not really having much patience for the stupid question.

"Yes, my house-warming party, the day after I moved to New York. Rachel's dads had invited so many of their friends so I didn't know anyone there, but it was so fun. We felt like true New Yorkers." Kurt explained. "But I really don't see how this pertains to anything."

"Mr. Hummel, we have reason to believe you slept with a women that night." The officer told him bluntly. Kurt snorted.

"I'm sorry, officer, but if you can't already tell from what I'm wearing, I'm very much gay, and I highly doubt that. Honestly, what amount of evidence would make you believe that?" Kurt snapped. Blaine, who had been sitting beside him, smirked a little at this side of Kurt. Kurt was kind of a bitch.

"Well, we have your daughter upstairs, so." The officer replied, her own voice cold now. Kurt choked on air, and turned to Blaine with wide eyes. Blaine's own eyes were wide as saucers. Kurt turned back to the officer.

"What!?"

....................................................................................

"So, he's there?" Clair sucked her bottom lip between her sip. "Does he know...you know that I'm his d-daughter?"

"He does now, but he's still in shock. He seems nice, though. Even looks like he has a husband, and another little girl. You might go to a really good family, Clair." The doctor assured. Clair let a smile grace her face and she looked at the door with anticipation.

"Well, I'm ready, madam. If you would...tell h-him. P-please." Clair confirmed. The doctor nodded, and with a gentle pat to Clair's cheek, walked out of the room.

"Well, she's ready. She has trouble with talking; English isn't her first language, but we have reason to believe it's not the only reason. You do know the severity of her situation, don't you?" the doctor presented as she closed the door. Blaine, who had been standing silently in shock behind Kurt, could see Kurt was incapable of talking.

"Yes, we are now aware. I myself have experience with this, so there's no need to worry. Please, may Kurt see her now?" Blaine stepped forward. The doctor nodded her consent, and let them into the room.

Clair looked up from where she'd been playing with a loose thread, and all the breath in her body left her. That man had to be her father. His eyes, they were just like hers. His nose, his mouth...she had those.

Kurt felt his heart break at the sight of the tiny, impossibly skinny girl wrapped up in all those layers of blankets. The little girl with those big, familiar eyes filled with hope. Her skin was pale, and covered in an endless amount of freckles.

"Hi, sweetie. I'm Kurt. I'm your...I'm your dad." Kurt introduced, stepping close to her bedside. The girl looked him over, and then smiled.

"Bon jour, parlez-vous fran�ais?" she asked, and Kurt gasped. She looked sad, and then tried again. "I mean, h-hello."

"Non, non je fais, ma ch�rie, quel est ton nom?" Kurt asked, and he felt his heart repair itself as she smiled excitedly.

"Ma maman m'a appele Clair Erreur Hummel...je n'aime pas ce que vous me nommer quelque chose d'autre? Oh, je veux dire si vous ovules �tre mon papa." Clair's face fell, and she sighed. Kurt grit his teeth at the mention...of this, this mother. Kurt could see why he may have slept with this woman, I mean, he'd obviously been wasted...but if she'd been French, and she obviously was, no wonder he'd done it.

But here was this little girl, named Clear Mistake. He wasn't going to have that. No, this little girl was his. It may have been crazy, considering what Blaine had revealed earlier...only for this to happen, but seeing as how happy Blaine was now with January, he knew for sure he'd never let this girl out of his sight.

"Bien sur, je serai ton papa! Je vais vous garder en s�curit� quoi qu'il arrive. Vous �tes belle et vaut la peine. Vous savez que j'ai le nom parfait pour vous, l'amour. " Kurt reassured his daughter. Her face lit up into a beautiful smile, and Kurt could feel himself fill with a type of love he'd never felt before.

"Vous faites? Quel est-il?" she asked, jumping a little with excitement. Kurt made a funny, exaggerated thinking face, and the little girl laughed.

"Ainsi, votre peau me fait penser a la lune, et tes yeux me rappellent la mer...," Kurt began, and the girl blushed. "Et parce que changer votre pr�nom serait source de confusion a propos de la fa�on dont...Clair de Lune Sur La mer?" Kart proposed. The girl nodded vigourously, and Kurt beamed with pride.

"Perfect. Blaine, c'mere." Kurt waved the man over. Blaine, who had been watching with a hung jaw, and tears in his eyes, nodded and shuffled over. He grinned at the girl. The girl smiled, and then her eyes flickered to January, who was still sleeping in Blaine's arm.

"Hi-, I'm Clair de Lune Sur La mer Hummel, but you can c-call me Clair. A-re y-you my other Papa? Is that my s�ur?" Clair asked, sending Blaine into a melted puddle of fumbling, touched, embarrassed goo.

"No, love. I do like your daddy very much, though, and maybe one day, I will be. I'm Blaine Anderson, and this is January, my daughter. Did you know she's gone through the same thing as you?" Blaine introduced, smiling gently at her. The girl furrowed her eyebrows, and looked at January.

"I'm sorry, B-Blaine. It isn't a fun t-thing to doll...I mean, t-to do." Clair blushed. Blaine smiled reassuringly.

"Clair, l'amour, can I speak to you in English now?" Kurt asked. Clair nodded, letting Kurt stroke her face lovingly. "When are you going to get out of here, sweetie? Since your mother put me down as your Papa on the paternity sheets, I can take you into my possession without much trouble because your mother is in prison. You can come straight home with me when you're all better." Kurt explained.

"Well, the d-doctor said I only had two more days more. I-I mean, two more left. M-My ribs aren't break, and my bruises heal quick." She explained, cocking her head to the side as she tried to remember the correct English words.

"Okay, sweetie. I'm so glad you got out of there." Kurt grinned, his tears finally falling. Clair bit her lip, and wiped them away with her little hands.

"Do not cry, Papa." She whispered, tears forming in her own eyes.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, I'm experiencing so many types of emotions right now, and it's kind of overwhelming. I can't imagine how hard it is for you." Kurt sighed, brushing her hair out of her face. Clair simply smiled.

"I'm fine...I have you now."