“In other news, local mayor Bryan Ryan is pushing for a bylaw that will….”

Kurt tuned out the local news Carole had playing on the radio as she worked in the kitchen near where he was sitting at the table, head laying sideways on his textbook and probably absorbing the highlighter marks he had made.  He was so tired.  He didn't care about World History.  Too many names and places and dates and everything he was told was significant sounded stupid.  The whole course was stupid…. the only thing worse than taking it would have been taking it in a class with a professor who actually thought this shit was important.  At least all Kurt had to do was memorize things for some online quizzes and write a couple papers.  He could bullshit his way through papers no problem.  His special gift.

“Kurt, why don't you take a break.. since you pretty much already are.”  Carole noted as she looked over.

“Because he'll only nap for an hour more at best and I need to know about the Muhgals and Mongols and Ottomans and all that stuff….”  He didn't bother lifting his head as he admitted it, though moved a hand up to rub away from drool that was threatening to come out onto his page.

“You need to know that stuff for your degree?”

Kurt snorted softly, something of a chuckle as he peeled his face off the paper to look up, “I have to take a couple history courses.  I thought this one would be a little more interesting than it has been.  Basically, world history is all about these guys who have penis envy and attack each other's lands and change the borders so many times it's a wonder there are borders anymore…”

Carole laughed and shook her head, rolling her eyes as the news went into sports and switched the station.  “What else would most men have to worry about other than politics and sports?”

“I don't know… maybe world peace or curing cancer or something…”  Kurt shook his head.  He had decided he would definitely not be focusing on international and political journalism in his degree.  Arts and Culture, Entertainment, Fashion even… that's what he was more interested in writing about.

He looked back at his textbook then, trying hard to remember the details of the latest war he was reading about - who was involved, why it had started, how it had ended… when the highlighter fell from his fingers and he turned his head with a gawk towards the radio.

Carole was staring too.

It was Blaine.  Blaine was singing.  Blaine was on his radio!

Kurt launched himself up and rushed over to the counter where Carole had the radio set, looking at the little box as if it contained the mysteries of the universe.  Blaine was crooning on there… some kind of upbeat poppy song that kept saying his own name… Kurt's name…

It was over way too fast and as Carole was about to speak, Kurt shushed her and listened to the radio D.J.

“And that was Blaine Anderberry on his debut track titled ‘Kurt' which apparently is a homage to Congressman Hummel's son.  Good way to get yourself noticed as a new artist, especially here in Ohio where we can't get enough of the Hummel drama!  Next we have…”

Kurt rushed to his laptop at the table, flipping it open, history forgotten as he pulled up any information he could find and then went onto the online music store, finding not only the namesake song, but two others - all of which he downloaded immediately.

“Kurt….”  Carole mused, peeking over his shoulder, “Have you tried calling him…?

“Yeah… yeah Carole… I mean…”  He paused his typing, trying to look up… look up… he didn't even know.  “... not in awhile.  Wes makes it sound pretty clear that he doesn't want to talk to me….”

“Sounds like maybe the opposite is true?” She suggested as Kurt played the downloaded song with his name attached.

“What do I do Carole?”

She shook her head, “Not sure sweetie.  It's kind of unprecedented…  I'd also be worried that he's doing this just to make a name for himself off of you.”

Kurt sucked in a breath, “No… no… he didn't want to go into music… well… I knew he wanted to, but he always felt like he had to go into business to make his parents happy.  He was okay with settling on that… I'm the one who pushed him to try music.”

“Well… maybe he's trying to reach out…”

Kurt nibbled on his lower lip, always favouring the spot where his lip ring used to be as he focused on the lyrics, so perfectly cliched for pop, and yet… so meaningful…. “your addiction gave me addiction” and “sleeping isn't the same when I don't have a dream in my arms”....

“How did he manage this Carole…?” Kurt uttered weakly, setting the song on repeat.

“Well, given that his sister kept dropping big celebrity names when she was here, there must be some connections… and since you are, like it or not, Ohio's local source of news, it's not surprising that they'd play a song made out to you on our local station.”

“God Carole… how am I supposed to respond to this?  He's fucking serenading me without even being near me!”

Carole shook her head, and then both their heads perked up to the sounds of a boy crying from his room. Kurt sighed.  K.J. hadn't slept nearly enough and he'd end up grouchy because of it.

“I'll get him sweetie.  You keep looking into this…. play those other songs you downloaded maybe.”

Kurt nodded, so grateful Carole was there to help.  He hovered over the other two songs, one titled Cage and the other called Waking.  How…. juxtaposed.  He went with Waking first.

Another poppy tune, and really, Kurt wasn't surprised given that Blaine tended towards Katy Perry and Pink when given his choice of what to play in the past.  Not that Kurt was complaining.  It's not like that many people shared his love of cabaret music anyhow.

Waking was also less than subtle but Blaine had come up with a brilliant sound and progression.  Lyrics including, “You left me in a nightmare and now I can't get out of this sleep” and “I don't know what I am without you.”  Kurt pressed a hand over his head, trying to brace the cracking feeling jerking through it as he listened.  God, Blaine could have been talking about the way he felt when they split…

Carole came back down with K.J. in her arms who made an immediate grabbing motion for Kurt, “Dadadadadada….”

Kurt absently held out his arms, taking K.J. into them as Carole rested a hand on his shoulder, “Well?”

“Well I'm pretty sure Waking here is about the way he felt about breaking up… which may as well be the way I felt…. god… Carole… was I dumb?”

“He wasn't ready Kurt.  We all saw it… That doesn't mean we didn't love him immediately though.  He brought you back to us.  He took care of you and made you feel safe and loved when we couldn't… and you loved him…”

“Love him…”  Kurt hummed softly, wincing slightly as K.J. grabbed his ear and tugged.

“Dadadadadada….”

“Yes son.  Dada.”  Kurt quickly turned his head to peck his son on the cheek and then set Cage to play.

More pop, but slower this time.  Kurt was pretty sure Blaine had used the software he had gotten him at Christmas and was playing all of the instruments.  God… he was brilliant….

Wait….

“Did you get that Kurt?” Carole asked, leaning in to look at the track as if squinting at it would give her the answer she wanted.

“Let me play it back….”

“If I take care of you would show me how to care?  If I call you son will you call me dad?  I want to be there but only if you want me to be.  Oh baby boy, how've you've upset everything I thought life could be….”

“Jesus… little melodramatic…. but… fuu…. fudge.”  Kurt always had to bite his tongue around K.J.

“What's fudge?” Burt walked in then, setting his briefcase on the island and immediately moving to scoop up K.J. whose arms were already held out to his grandpa.

So Carole and Kurt played the songs for Burt, whose expressions ranged from curious to thoughtful to confused as he listened through them.

“So that's why Tom kept telling me if I'd been listening to the radio today….”  he mused when they were all played.

Kurt rolled his eyes, “Anyhow dad… what should I be doing?”

Burt shrugged, “He's your ex-boyfriend.  You figure it out.  Sounds to me though that he's not over you anymore than you're over him.  The question is though, is he ready to make the sacrifice that parenthood entails.”

Kurt sighed and dropped his head into his palms, “Ugh… I just -”

Then the phone's started ringing - the home number, the business number, and Burt's cell phone.  Kurt made a point of not answering the phones after a journalist tried to conduct an impromptu interview him about his dad's politics when he had answered once and then told her to screw off before handing it to his dad.  His little slip had shown up in the paper and even though Burt told him it was okay, Kurt knew it wasn't.  He couldn't hurt his dad's image when his dad was trying to do so much good for the country.

So Carole and Burt raced to answer calls, all of which sounded the same.  “Yes” they had heard the song, and “No” they didn't have a comment to make.

“Guess what son… you're news once again!” Burt said with a chuckle in between calls.

“Great….” Kurt grunted, rolling his eyes and setting about getting a snack for K.J. who was whining and reaching towards the pantry - a sign that he wanted food and wanted it now.

Once K.J. was sated and back on the floor, grabbing at the edge of the coffee table in the living room and using it to hold onto as he walked around it, Kurt grabbed his phone and shot off a text.

Kurt: The media is calling us non-stop about Blaine's song.  Did you know about this?

Wes: And what if I did?

Kurt: Wes!

Wes: I may be taking a couple business courses this semester to help Blaine with management…

Kurt: You asshole!  Why didn't you tell me!

Wes: Because it wasn't my information to tell you.  Besides, the surprise is more effective.

Kurt: Effective at what?

Wes: Getting your attention of course.

Kurt: Wes…

Kurt: Please let me talk to Blaine.

Wes: He's not here.

Kurt: Can you tell him to call me when he gets back then?

Wes: It'll cost you.

Kurt: Honestly Wes?

Kurt: Don't be an asshole about this.

Wes: You should totally tell the press though that it's your favourite song though!  It'll help boost sales which improves my 10%!

Kurt: Asshole.

The doorbell was ringing now too, and Burt kept running to and from the door with an ever increasing sense of irritation.  “Gonna find that kid and smack him for writing that song… how am I supposed to watch the game tonight if the bloody doorbell keeps -”

BING-BONG!

“Oh for the love of…!' Burt spun and walked back to the door, muttering all the while as Kurt smirked to himself after enjoying the scene.

Kurt set his phone down and watched as K.J., all so cautiously, worked his way around and around and around the table.  In his mind, Kurt was just yelling “Take a step on your own already!”, but his son was careful, which he supposed was probably a good thing.

“He's really grown…”

Kurt's head snapped up, eyes wide as he locked onto the source of the voice.  Blaine.  There.  In front of him… holding roses.  He was there… and holding roses… in Kurt's living room.  

And Kurt couldn't think of a damned thing to say even though his mouth had fallen open.