Kurt fell apart in front of Blaine’s parents.

He hadn’t meant to, but who can ever plan when they’re going to have an emotional breakdown? They just happened to be there when it became clear that they weren’t going to be able to hire a nanny.

The nanny agency had told them as much, had nearly laughed in their faces when they explained that they needed mostly night and weekend and weekend night hours, on a schedule that changed every month, sometimes every week, and then stated their budget. The agency had said with a schedule like that, they’d need a live-in. But they didn’t have the money, or the space, to hire a live-in nanny.

They’d struck out on their own, posting ads on childcare websites and asking all the local parent groups for recommendations. And tonight they’d finished going through the meager stack of applications and found them all terrible.

And Kurt knew, of course. He’d known all along that he would have to be the one to make the sacrifice if they couldn’t find childcare. He worked more hours than Blaine, as the costume director for the small opera company as well as a performer, but Blaine brought in four times as much income and was on track for significantly more. Kurt would be the one who would have to quit his job and either find some standard job with regular, daytime hours or just become a stay-at-home dad.

Both options filled him with dread. He loved Colin, he really did, this four-month-old cherub that made him smile with delight every time he looked at him. But he needed adult conversation, he needed an outlet for his creativity, and as much as he enjoyed caring for his family, he needed to feel like he was making something of himself. Kurt had known his life would change when he became a father, but he did not have any idea that it would change so drastically and so soon. He’d had no idea that he would have to give up so very much.

His vision darkened around the edges and it was as if the world was crushing in on him, depriving him of breath and light and filling his ears with the roar of a destructive wind. So here he was, curled up on one end of the couch, his arms around his knees and his head tucked in, sobbing.

“Kurt? Kurt? Kurt, it’s okay, it’s going to be all right, we’ll figure something out, I promise.” Blaine’s voice sounded a hundred miles away, but his arms were warm, right around him, and he felt the slightest bit better to know that he was not alone.

Kurt lifted his head up, and through his tears he saw the stunned looks on James and Anna’s faces. He’d never lost his cool around them before, let alone cried, and he was suddenly mortified that he was doing so now. They seemed to see it, and they got up and walked quietly into the nursery, mumbling something about checking on Colin. Kurt gasped out another sob, unable to control himself.

“I know,” he said. “I’ll do it, I’ll quit the company, I have to. But I’ll miss it so much. Performing, and being an artist, and Robert, and Jillian, and my whole opera family.”

“Maybe you won’t have to,” Blaine said. “We can keep looking, maybe we’ll find someone. Or figure something out. Or I could…”

Kurt shook his head. “No, Blaine. Don’t be ridiculous. This is it. We’ve tried everything else and nothing worked.”

Blaine bit his lip, tears welling up in his eyes, too. “If things keep going the way they’re going for me on Broadway, within a couple of years we’ll have more money than we know what to do with. You can go back to the opera then. This is just temporary. It’ll be okay. And Kurt, I’m so sorry. So sorry I couldn’t do better for you. Sooner.”

“It’s not your fault,” Kurt whispered over the huge lump in his throat. He could go back to performing, probably, Blaine was right. But the company would have replaced him by then, he’d have to find somewhere else, and this perfect situation, perfect group of people, was not likely to be replicated anywhere else. Still, he could be performing again within a few years, it wasn’t so bad. He tilted his head to rest against Blaine’s shoulder.

They turned their heads at the sound of someone clearing their throat. Blaine’s parents were tentatively walking back into the room. Kurt wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

“We’ll pay for it,” James said.

“You’ll … what?” Blaine asked, confused.

“The live-in nanny,” James said. “We’ll pay for it.”

“What?” Blaine asked again. “No, you can’t! It’s too much, we could never…”

“Take the money you were going to use for a nanny, and spend it on a three-bedroom apartment instead. And we’ll pay for the nanny. Until you’re making enough to pay for her yourself.”

Kurt’s jaw dropped. “But you don’t even like me,” he blurted out, all filters gone.

Anna rolled her eyes. “We don’t even know you. We’ve known you for ten years and you’ve never given us the chance to know you.”

“I’m … sorry?”

“Anyway, it’s not for you, it’s for Colin,” she said.

------------------------------------------

As soon as they interviewed Taylor, they knew she would fit perfectly into their lives. She was short and bright-eyed, with dark hair in a pixie cut that emphasized her cheekbones and delicate jawline, and a very subtle eyebrow piercing. She didn’t blink an eye at coming face to face with a two-dad family, and by the end of the conversation they figured she was probably queer in some way, but they didn’t ask because it didn’t matter and was probably illegal to ask during a job interview anyway, even if nobody cared. She was twenty-three years old, just three years younger than themselves, and was in her senior year of a child development degree. She’d spent four years with her last family, who gave her glowing reviews and were so sad that they no longer needed her services now that their daughter was in kindergarten.

They hired her for a two-month probationary period to start, but by the end of it, they couldn’t imagine their family without her.