“Hello?”

“Dad.” Kurt’s voice is small, choked, and Burt can hear the shuddering breaths of sobs.

“Kurt? What’s going on?”

A shaky breath comes through the line and Burt can tell Kurt’s trying to calm himself, trying to speak.

“Kurt, you need to talk to me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Kurt’s voice is thin and wavering. “Just a br-broken arm and stitches…but…” His voice is cut by a sob and panic is tight in Burt’s chest. Beside him Carole stirs, frowning up at Burt.

“Where are you?”

“The hospital,” Kurt says between sobs. Burt scrubs the last of sleep from his eyes.

“Kurt, you need to tell me what happened. Can you do that?” He speaks slow and calm, hoping his voice will reassure Kurt, even if just enough for him to talk. The metallic sound of a doctor being paged sounds in the background and Kurt is struggling to calm his crying. Carole puts a hand on his arm, her face concerned. Burt catches her eyes and just hopes for whatever Kurt’s about to say. That everything is okay. He knows it’s not.

“Blaine and I…” his voice breaks with a choked whimper. “We went out for gyros. It…it was dark and I wanted to take a short cut…there were these guys and…”

“Deep breaths, Kurt,” Burt instructs as Kurt breaks down again.

“They…god, they said things and I yelled at them and they grabbed me and Blaine pushed them and they…god…” Kurt’s words are coming quickly now, like he’s broken the dam and everything is coming out all at once. “Dad, they…they had a pipe and they just…they just… they beat him and I couldn’t do anything and I thought he was dead. I… god… I thought he was dead.”

Burt feels like all the breath has been stolen from his lungs.

“Is he…” he doesn’t know how to finish the sentence.

“He’s alive. For now,” Kurt’s voice sounds almost flat now, and it scares Burt worse than the panicked sobs. “His skull… they said it was fractured inwards and they did surgery…but there were bone shards and they’ll have to do another surgery soon but now they’re trying to keep the swelling down and…dad, they won’t let me see him and they don’t know…they don’t know if he’ll make it.”

Burt is silent for a minute, brain struggling to process what Kurt just said. It seems impossible. He’s always worried; Kurt and Blaine, they’ve always been so in love that they sometimes forget the world is a cruel place, that for some people, being in love isn’t enough. He hears about hate crimes on the news, sad stories recited by loved ones on the radio, and yet, he never thought it could actually happen. Not to them. And just like that it hits him, how close he was to losing Kurt tonight. And Blaine…Burt loves him as a son and his chest physically aches with the thought of what’s happened. What’s still happening.

“They…they won’t let you see him?” The words find their way from Burt’s lips without him realizing it.

“No,” Kurt says, voice a mix of anger and distress. “It’s not…a gay thing. They have to…keep his head open until the swelling goes down.”

Kurt is calmer, but his voice still uneven and choppy and Burt can tell how hard it is for him to say this. A woman’s voice interrupts them and there’s a rustling noise through the phone and Kurt sniffles and thanks whoever it is.

“The nurse,” Kurt explains with a mumble. “She brought me coffee.”

Burt is finding himself more and more unnerved by the increasing flatness of Kurt’s voice.

“Do they know what his…chances are?” Burt asks softly. He can hear Kurt shifting.

“If they can stop the…the bleeding and get the swelling down he might make it,” Kurt’s breaths start coming faster again, his voice wavering. “But they said…there’s so much trauma,” the word comes out pained, “even if he does wake up he…god, he’ll probably have brain damage.”

And the floodgates are open again, Kurt’s voice breaking with the last word and Burt wishes he was there right now. That he could hold Kurt while he cries.

“It’s all my fault,” Kurt stutters. “It was my stupid idea to take that shortcut. Blaine…he didn’t want to but I did and then those…guys and god, I yelled at them and I should’ve just ignored it and now Blaine might die and it’s all my fault…”

“Kurt, hey,” Burt interrupts as Kurt dissolves into tears. “Listen to me. This is not your fault. It’s no one’s fault except for the ones who did this. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” Kurt says weakly but Burt knows he’s not sincere.

“I’ll be out as soon as I can tomorrow alright?”

“Thank you,” Kurt’s words come out as a whimper and if Burt thinks it isn’t possible for his heart to break anymore he is wrong. He wants to tell Kurt everything is going to be alright, that Blaine will be fine, but he can’t. The words stop in his throat. Everything is not fine and if there’s one thing Burt knows for certain, it’s that things can always get worse.

“And Kurt, it’s not your fault. Promise me you won’t think that anymore. Blaine needs you there for him, ok? Not wrapped up in guilt. Promise me.”

There’s silence for a moment, only Kurt’s hitching breaths coming through the phone.

“I promise.”

He can hear rustling and Kurt’s voice comes out in a frantic rush.

“Dad, Blaine’s doctor is here. I have to go.”

“Alright, call me anytime ok?” Burt says but the call is already disconnected. He lowers the phone into his lap, staring at it without really seeing. Carole’s hand on his arm tightens and Burt knows she’s worried but he can’t bring himself to speak just yet.

“Burt?” She asks after a moment and Burt draws his eyes up to hers, wondering how it’s possible for life to change so much in five minutes.

“I need to go to New York.”


October 19th, 2018

The door flies open the moment he knocks and he takes a step back as Kurt’s body collides with his, arms wrapping him in a tight hug.

“Glad to see you too, bud,” Burt chuckles, patting Kurt’s back. Kurt releases him a moment later, eyes misting but a smile on his lips. He looks happy, Burt is pleased to see.

“Sorry,” Kurt says sheepishly. “I just missed you.”

Burt feels guilt wash through him; he hasn’t been able to make it back to New York since Blaine first woke up, nearly five months ago. Business has picked up, and even with Finn helping out when he can, he hasn’t managed to get away until now.

“It’s alright,” Kurt says with a shake of his head, as though he knows what Burt’s thinking. “I understand…business.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Besides, it’s been pretty busy around here too.”

Burt knows. He talks to Kurt every week at least, and he knows between Kurt’s work and Blaine’s appointments, he’s had barely a minute of free time.

“I’ve gathered,” Burt says as Kurt motions for him to step inside. He looks around, admiring Kurt’s house for the first time. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

Kurt nods excitedly. “Blaine’s dad helped fix it up. He built the ramp and made it completely handicap accessible. Unfortunately, he’s colorblind, so I had to do some extensive repainting, but now it feels like…well, home.”

Burt smiles. It’s been a long time since he’s heard Kurt sound so content. Like things are actually starting to work out. Kurt takes his jacket in the entryway and Burt lets his bag drop to the ground, ignoring Kurt’s pointed frown.

“Carole and Finn wanted to come, but they couldn’t get the time off,” Burt explains as Kurt hangs the jacket neatly in the hall closet.

“It’s probably better,” Kurt says, turning around, and for the first time Burt sees a flicker of sadness in his eyes. “Blaine’s not really comfortable with crowds yet.”

Burt nods in understanding and something tightens inside him. He hasn’t seen Blaine since he was in the hospital, and while he receives regular detailed reports from Kurt, he has to admit he’s a bit nervous.

“So…” Kurt claps his hands against his legs. “Ready for the grand tour?”

“Give me your worst,” Burt smiles. Kurt leads him from the small entryway into a simple, but fashionable, living room. The walls are a deep cream color, the windows draped with dark green curtains, adorned with small jewels. It all looks very Kurt, but has a surprisingly homey feel to it. Burt barely notices, his attention drawn to the figure on the couch. Blaine is bundled up in a sweatshirt, lap buried under a pile of blankets, a bright red foam ball gripped between his hands. His hair, while still shorter than he used to keep it, has finally been allowed to grow back and Burt can barely make out the scars that wind across his scalp. He’s looking up at them, mouth slightly parted and eyes wide. Burt compares him to his memories of the boy he saw the last time he was here. His shoulders are held higher, his face brighter, there’s understanding and awareness in his eyes, and Burt is struck with how much he’s changed.

“Dad’s here,” Kurt practically sings and the corner of Blaine’s mouth lifts in a smile.

“Hey bud, it’s good to see you,” Burt says to Blaine, smiling back at him. Blaine lifts a finger and raises his hand to press against his chest.

“He’s happy you’re here,” Kurt says, interpreting whatever Blaine just did, and Burt finds himself slightly awed at how the two just know each other, understand each other, even without words.

“You’ll have to sleep on the couch,” Kurt says, motioning to where Blaine’s currently sitting. “We don’t have an extra bed, but you can keep your stuff in my study.”

Kurt shows him the study, their bedroom, the bathroom (and Burt admires how much work has gone into making everything accessible to Blaine), and lastly the kitchen.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d eaten,” Kurt says. “I was going to make pasta, if that’s alright. I know it’s not the healthiest but it’s easier for Blaine and I normally just eat what he eats…”

Kurt trails off, for the first time sounding unsure and Burt realizes that Kurt is nervous. He’s nervous of Burt seeing Blaine, seeing their lifestyle, seeing how different things are now.

“Pasta’s fine,” Burt assures and Kurt visibly relaxes.

“Alright, um…” Kurt looks around. Burt knows Kurt, knows he’s planned this moment to a T, but now that Burt’s actually here, he’s floundering. They have their life, their schedule, their way of dealing with everything, and now an outsider is here and it’s a stark reminder that what they have isn’t normal. And it throws Kurt off.

“You can put your stuff in the study and make yourself at home,” Kurt says when he gathers himself. “I’ll get Blaine and start dinner… He likes to help.” He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, as he needs justification.

“Sounds good to me,” Burt says with what he hopes is a reassuring smile and he lets Kurt direct him from the kitchen, grabbing his bag from the entryway and heading to the study. He shuts the door with a click and finally just breathes.

A hand scrubs across his face and he lowers himself into Kurt’s overly-soft desk chair. His eyes are drawn to a framed picture on the desk, arranged carefully next to the computer. Burt doesn’t recognize it, but it’s obviously from before. Kurt’s face pressed close to Blaine’s, scarves wrapped tightly around their necks, and snowflakes are white dots in the dark sky, their noses red from the cold, but the smiles on both of their faces are bright and infectious. Like two boys in love. Taped to the picture is an old scrap of paper, wrinkled at the corners, the penciled writing slightly smudged. Had to run early. Good luck at work, don’t make anyone wear anything ugly ;) Don’t forget, date night tonight. Love xoxo.

Kurt had told him once, with an exasperated sigh, how Blaine always left notes on his pillow if he was the first to leave in the morning, though Burt knew how much Kurt actually loved it. He wonders if this was the last note Blaine left, what Kurt saw the morning before that night, what he came home to after, still resting on Blaine’s pillow. Suddenly, everything seems so fragile. Kurt’s happiness, the house, Blaine. Like it’s made of glass, so close to shattering, but somehow, miraculously, standing steady.

Burt takes a deep breath and stands, leaving the study and making his way back to the kitchen. He stops in the entrance, watching the scene before him. Kurt’s filling up a large pot, Blaine beside him in his wheelchair, fingers working to open a box of pasta, face creased in concentration. Kurt sets the pot on the stove, fiddling with the heat, and turns back to Blaine, gently helping him to pry open the top, voice soft with words of encouragement.

When Kurt stands straight to dump the pasta in the pot he spots Burt and smiles.

“Need any help?” Burt asks.

“We got it,” Kurt says with a shake of his head and Burt raises his eyebrows.

“Just cause I’m your old man doesn’t mean I can’t cook.”

“I distinctly remember a few ruined dinners that would indicate otherwise,” Kurt says pointedly. “But you can chop the vegetables.”
Burt turns to the pile of broccoli stacked on the counter.

“Small pieces please,” Kurt instructs, handing over knife and Burt nods. And dinner is made; Kurt attending to the pasta, helping Blaine to mash some bananas, and steaming the broccoli Burt so carefully sliced.

“Voila!” Kurt says when they’re seated at the table, setting the plates in their designated spots. “Rigatoni alfredo, steamed broccoli, and mashed bananas. A dinner to impress the greatest of chefs.”

Burt chuckles. “Looks good to me, kid.”

Kurt smiles triumphantly, considerably more at ease now that they have something to do. He chats excitedly, telling Burt about work, about Rachel, the crazy neighbors, before asking about Carole and Finn. Burt responds, but his heart isn’t really in the conversation. He’s watching Kurt, the way he wraps his hand around Blaine’s to pick up his spoon, making sure Blaine gets his bite before taking his own. The way Blaine can’t really chew very well, and Kurt makes sure everything is thoroughly mashed before feeding it to him. When Blaine coughs, Kurt stops what he’s doing and rubs his back and the whole moment is so tender that Burt feels emotions rising in him that he didn’t know existed. Watching Kurt like this, taking care of Blaine like there’s nothing he’d rather be doing, Burt wonders how it’s possible he managed to raise Kurt to be such a truly amazing person.

After dinner Burt helps Kurt clean up, despite Kurt’s protests, and Blaine watches their bickering from the table, with a look that resembles amusement. When Burt insists on washing the dishes Kurt sets a pile of brightly colored marbles and matching cups in front of Blaine. Burt watches with interest as Blaine slowly sorts them, fingers fumbling to grip each marble, arms moving to drop them in the appropriately colored cup. Kurt’s eyes shine each time Blaine gets it, and when he doesn’t Kurt just picks up the dropped marble, encouraging Blaine to try again, not even the slightest disappointment in his voice.

By the time everything is cleaned up and put away Blaine is yawning, eyes blinking tiredly and Kurt excuses them to the bathroom. Burt plops down on the couch, glancing around the room as he waits. He can hear Kurt’s voice, muffled through the walls, and the occasional lower pitched grunts that must be Blaine. Kurt comes out briefly, searching around the living room until he finds what looks like a cloth belt, for transferring he says, before disappearing again. And Burt realizes, in the time he’s been here, he has yet to see Kurt do something for himself, something that isn’t directly related to Blaine.

Burt hears from Kurt often, has heard about every improvement Blaine’s made, every setback he’s had. He’s heard how proud Kurt is of Blaine, how sad he gets when Blaine is upset. But it’s not until now, when he’s physically here, that he understands truly how much Kurt does for Blaine. Burt has seen it now, how Kurt takes care of Blaine, his touch tender and loving, his words gentle and encouraging. He knows taking care of someone isn’t easy. He experienced it with Lizzie near the end of her cancer, and lord knows it was hard, though he knows the situations aren’t really comparable. Kurt helps Blaine with everything; eating, dressing, using the bathroom, bathing, and he does it all at a pace that Blaine can manage, never getting angry or annoyed, even when Blaine does. He’s never once complained, never sought any praise or admiration for his efforts, because for Kurt, it’s only about Blaine.

A stack of papers on the edge of the coffee table draws Burt’s attention and he picks them up. They crinkle, stiff with glue, as Burt flips through them. On every page is Kurt’s name, written in childish writing. Some are decorated, covered in glitter, or paint, and some are plain, only Kurt’s name markered on the page.

“I try to get him to write other things,” Kurt says and Burt jumps. He hadn’t heard him come in. “But he doesn’t want to. Only my name.”

Kurt sits next to Burt gracefully, taking the stack from his hands and flipping through until he pulls one out. It’s the only one with something different on the page, Blaine’s name scribbled on top and Kurt’s on the bottom, a neatly drawn heart in the middle.

“Except this one. Janessa finally convinced him, but only if he could write both our names. She drew the heart,” Kurt explains, a smile playing at his lips. Burt admires the writing, sees the pride in Kurt’s face, and doesn’t know what to say.

“Blaine’s sleeping,” Kurt says after a moment. “He had physical therapy today and that always makes him tired.”
Kurt’s arm presses against Burt and he wants nothing more than to pull Kurt onto his lap like he did when he was a kid, to hold him and make everything bad go away.

“How are you doing, kid?” Burt asks instead, eyes searching Kurt’s face with concern.

“Good,” Kurt responds immediately. “Blaine’s motor skills are improving and he has another swallow study next week. He can even say some letters of the alphabet now and they think…”

“Kurt,” Burt cuts him off. “I meant how are you doing.”

Kurt blinks, face confused. “What?”

“I see what you do, Kurt. You take care of Blaine all day, and when you’re not helping him, you’re at work. You don’t take any time for yourself. I’m just worried about you.”

Burt can feel Kurt tensing, drawing up, back straight and face cold.

“You’re worried about me? Blaine, my fianc�, is so brain damaged he can’t even talk anymore and you want me to go skipping off for some me time?”

Burt takes a deep breath. He should have known this was coming.

“Kurt, what happened to Blaine was awful, and every day I wish I could kill the ones who did this and make Blaine better. But I know Blaine’s so lucky to have you, Kurt. Not many could, or would, do what you’re doing. You’re the most selfless person I’ve ever known, but Blaine wasn’t the only hurt by this. And I worry about you.”

Kurt is quiet, eyes downcast but face thoughtful.

“I don’t know how much you remember of this, because you were so young, but when your mom had cancer…that was hard. She slowly lost all ability to do anything, and I remember taking care of her, before she was in the hospital. I was so focused on her, and on you, that I forgot myself, and Kurt, it was exhausting. And I know it’s different, but I don’t want it to be like that for you. I don’t want you to wear yourself out, and I know Blaine doesn’t either.”

Kurt’s eyes are misted as he looks up at Burt, the edges rimmed with red.

“It’s just not fair,” Kurt’s voice wavers slightly as he speaks. “It’s not fair this happened to Blaine. Every time I look at him I think of how he used to be and it’s just so hard…I can’t do things knowing Blaine can’t do them anymore.”

“It’s not fair,” Burt agrees, wrapping an arm around Kurt. “But you two have worked so hard at not letting it get you down and I’m so proud of you for that, Kurt . Just promise me you’ll take some time for yourself. You don’t even have to leave, you can give yourself one of your…I dunno, manicures or sing a song or something. I just don’t want you to get burned out. I worry about you, kid.”

Kurt rests his head against Burt’s shoulder, sniffling softly.

“Can I give Blaine a manicure too?” Burt chuckles.

“Of course.”

Burt ruffles Kurt’s hair and Kurt smiles.

February 15th, 2019

“Hello?” Burt answers with a sigh. He just sat down with a beer Kurt and Carole will never know about, flipping on the sports channel, ready to relax after a busy day at work.

“Hey,” Kurt sounds exhausted, his voice no more than a breathy whisper.

“Hey Kurt, what’s up?” Burt mutes the TV, and takes a swig of his beer. Kurt is silent for a moment.

“I just need someone to talk to.”

“Is everything alright?” Burt can’t help the worry growing in him. Kurt rarely admits to needing help, and it’s been awhile since he’s heard Kurt sound like this.

“Not really,” Kurt admits. “Blaine has a migraine.”

“I don’t know much about migraines bud,” Burt says though he knows that’s not really what Kurt wants.

“I know, I just…” Kurt’s silent as he gathers his thoughts. “He’s been having them a lot lately.”

“Have you taken him to the doctor?” Burt asks, not exactly sure what Kurt’s looking for, but he expects Kurt doesn’t really know either.

“Yeah,” Kurt answers. “They say it has to do with the seasons changing. They gave him meds but they don’t really help.”

Burt is silent, giving Kurt the chance to say what he needs.

“It’s just…it makes him so sick and there’s nothing I can do,” Kurt says finally and Burt understands. Kurt’s always been able to help Blaine with everything, and now he’s found something he can’t.

“You’re doing all you can, Kurt,” Burt tries to reassure, even though he knows Kurt won’t really listen. “Blaine knows that.”

“I know,” Kurt relents with a sigh. “It’s just really hard. To see him in pain like this and not be able to do anything.”

Burt thinks about how much Kurt takes after his mother. Lizzie never could sit still if someone was sick. She would go straight into mothering mode, wanting to do everything, anything, to make it better. For Kurt, not being able to help, feeling useless, that’s the hardest part.

“You are doing something, Kurt,” Burt says, hoping he sounds as earnest as he feels. “Just by being there for him when he needs you, you’re doing as much as you can.”

“Yeah…” Kurt says, sounding like he doesn’t entirely believe Burt, but unable to come up with anything else to refute.

“Everything else alright?” Burt asks.

“Yeah, Blaine and I had a romantic candlelit dinner last night. He wrote me a poem. It didn’t really rhyme but I blame Olivia for that.” Burt can hear the smile on Kurt’s face.

“That’s great, Kurt,” Burt says, and he means it.

“Dad?” Burt’s heart aches for how young Kurt sounds with that word.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks,” Kurt pauses. “Thanks for always picking up when I call.”

Kurt sounds so earnest and Burt’s beginning to think Kurt has a gift for tapping into his emotional side, and unleashing so many damn feelings.

“Of course, bud. I’m always here for you.”

“I should…go check on Blaine,” Kurt’s words are soft and Burt knows he’s fighting back tears. Burt nods even though Kurt can’t see him.

“Go ahead. It was nice hearing from you, Kurt.”

“You too, dad.” And Kurt hangs up.

Burt goes back to the game, somehow feeling lighter and heavier at the same time.


September 23rd, 2019

Burt picks up his phone on the second ring.

“Kurt? What’s wrong?” Kurt never calls in the middle of a work day and Burt’s mind immediately runs through the worst possible scenarios.

“Nothing…” Kurt says but he sounds hesitant and Burt knows he’s lying.

“So there’s no reason you’re calling me at one pm on a Tuesday afternoon?”

“That was redundant dad,” Kurt says accusingly.

“Whatever Kurt, just tell me what’s up,” Burt says even as he feels the tension in his chest lighten slightly. Kurt wouldn’t joke if something was seriously wrong. An exasperated sigh crackles through the phone.

“It’s Blaine’s first day alone,” Kurt explains and Burt can just picture him, sitting at work, head in his hands, unable to think about anything except Blaine.

“Uh huh,” Burt says as he wipes the grease from his hands and passes the wrench to his employee to finish. “And why are you calling me?”

“Because if I call Blaine one more time I don’t think he’ll ever talk to me again.”

And Burt understands. Blaine is on his own for the first time since he was hurt and Burt knows Kurt is probably going sick with worry.

“I can’t concentrate because all I can think about is what if Blaine falls, or has a seizure, or the house sets on fire, or the mafia comes and I know it’s ridiculous and will never happen but I can’t help it and I get so worried and…”

“Kurt,” Burt cuts him off before he can work himself up more. “Blaine will be fine. He can call you if anything happens.”

“I gave him a cell phone and a pager and a panic button,” Kurt admits sheepishly and Burt gives an amused sigh.

“Blaine’s going to be able to do more stuff on his own now, Kurt. You’re going to have to get used to it at some point.”

“I know,” Kurt admits heavily. “It’s just hard not to worry, thinking about him all by himself.”

“Believe me bud, I know. I still remember the first time I left you home alone. I was just going to the store, but I couldn’t stop thinking about everything that could go wrong and I barely made it twenty minutes before coming back. Of course, by then you had drawn a palace on your wall with pink crayons, but I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that with Blaine.”

Kurt laughs, the sound infectious, and Burt can’t help but smile.

“So this is a big step for Blaine then,” Burt says. He knows Kurt will calm down if he talks it over, lets everything out. Kurt doesn’t have many people to talk to, and talking to Blaine only seems to increase his worry.

“Yeah, huge. They said if he keeps doing so well he might be able to go back to work part-time this spring. He’s doing so well, dad. I wish you could come visit.” The happiness in Kurt’s voice is practically palpable, even through the phone.

“That’s great Kurt. I’ll come out as soon as I can. Carole wants to come too, you guys are pretty much all she talks about.” Burt’s not even lying. Carole calls Kurt almost as often as Kurt calls home, and he knows she’s anxious to see them again. To see Blaine’s progress with her own eyes. Burt has made it out once since last Christmas, but Carole had to work, and it’s hard to get so much time off.

“We’d like that,” Kurt says, sounding considerably more at ease than he did in the beginning of the conversation.

“Now go get some work done and try not to worry about Blaine, alright?” Burt instructs and Kurt chuckles. They both know that’s not going to happen, but this time it’s ok.

“I love you dad,” Kurt says and Burt smiles.

“Love you too, Kurt.”


October 12th, 2019

Blaine’s leg bounces nervously as Burt hands him the tea. Steam curls intricately into the air and Blaine’s eyes fix on it like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen.

“Careful, it’s hot,” Burt says needlessly and Blaine sets the cup down on the kitchen table as if it had grown scalding with Burt’s words. Burt frowns. Blaine’s not normally this nervous, or he hadn’t been until Carole had dragged Kurt off for a much needed (according to Kurt) shopping trip. No one had been surprised by Burt’s refusal, but eyebrows were raised when Blaine had also insisted on staying behind. Blaine claimed he didn’t feel up to shopping and no one had questioned it, though Burt is beginning to wonder if there is something else going on.

“Do you want me to call Kurt?” Burt asks and Blaine jumps, as if surprised Burt is still there.

“What? No,” Blaine says quickly.

“You sure? You seem kind of…jittery.” Blaine drops his gaze and wraps his fingers around his cup, staring at it intently.

“Actually…I wanted to talk. To you,” Blaine practically mumbles and Burt is honestly surprised, though it does explain why Blaine insisted on staying home. Burt sits across the table from Blaine, taking a sip of his own tea and wincing as it scalds his tongue.

“Oh? What about?” Burt tries to keep his voice steady and reassuring.

“Um..” Blaine shifts nervously. “About Kurt.”

Burt nods and can’t help but feel like he’s treading new waters. He’s talked to Kurt about Blaine more times than he can count, but he hasn’t really talked to Blaine. Not without Kurt there. Not since his injury.

“Alright, shoot,” Burt says, sitting back in his chair, resting his palms flat on the table, giving Blaine the chance to speak.

“Do you…” Blaine pauses, eyebrows drawing together in a frown. “I mean, does Kurt… I just…”

He lets out a huff of frustration.

“Do you think he still wants to…marry me?” Blaine’s eyes lift with his words and he looks so lost that it breaks Burt’s heart. And it dawns on him that Kurt is the only one Blaine has to talk to. The only support he has, now that he stays home on his own half the week. And Burt knows he wouldn’t want to talk to Kurt about Kurt.

“Why would you think he doesn’t?” Burt asks gently, trying to understand Blaine’s feelings.

Blaine shrugs and looks back at his hands.

“Blaine,” Burt says, still soft but commanding enough that Blaine lifts his eyes guiltily. “Conversations don’t really work unless both people talk.”

Blaine bites his lip and is silent for another moment but Burt can see he’s organizing his thoughts, figuring out what to say. Kurt once explained to him that it’s like Blaine draws up an outline in his head of what he wants to say, making mental bullet points to keep from getting lost in the middle of their conversation.

“I mean…why would he want to marry someone he has to…to take care of?” Blaine asks, words slow and calculated, eyebrows slanting to give him that heartbreakingly lost look again. “Someone who can’t ta-” he pauses, “take care of him…if he needs.”

“Blaine, I know as a fact that Kurt wants nothing more than to marry you, whether you need some extra help or not. And I don’t think you understand how much you do help Kurt, just by being here for him.”

Blaine’s blinks rapidly and Burt wants nothing more than to wrap him in his arms and make all his doubts go away.

“But what if I can’t…can’t reciprocate,” his voice lowers until Burt has to strain to hear the last word, “sexually?”

Blaine’s eyes are glued to the table and his cheeks are growing a deep shade of red and Burt can’t imagine how embarrassing this must feel for him, that the only person he has to turn to for this is his fianc�’s father.

“Have you guys…?” Burt lets the question trail off, trying to find the best way to word it but thankfully Blaine knows what he’s trying to say and he shakes his head, face absolutely burning.

“N-not since…” Blaine says but his words catch in his throat and Burt’s afraid Blaine might start to cry out of sheer humiliation.

“Have you tried talking this out with Kurt?” Burt asks gently, not exactly sure what to say but knowing that Blaine trusts him right now. That Blaine needs to talk about this. Blaine shakes his head.

“Well Blaine, I can promise you Kurt doesn’t care if you can reciprocate or not. That’s not going to affect him wanting to marry you. But if you’re really worried about it, try talking to him. Kurt’s probably just as nervous to bring this up with you as you are with him.”

Blaine shifts in his chair but doesn’t say anything.

“Or if you’re really uncomfortable with that maybe you can find a support group or something? Talk to other people who have gone through the same thing. Lizzie…Kurt’s mom, she did that when she was diagnosed with cancer.”

For the first time since the conversation started Blaine actually shows some interest in what Burt’s saying, his eyes lifting from the table.

“You think I could?” He sounds so innocently hopeful, like Burt has just provided him the solution to all his problems on a gold platter with sprinkles on top and Burt smiles.

“Of course, Blaine. There’s always people who want to help you. And if you have any trouble, you can always come to me or Carole and we’ll help you out as much as we can.”

“Thank you,” Blaine says eyes meeting Burt’s earnestly. Burt smiles.

“We’re always here for you, Blaine,” Burt says and Blaine looks more relaxed, hands wrapping around his mug as he lifts it and takes a cautious sip.

“Kurt’s proud of you, Blaine. He cares about you more than himself most of the time, and wants to spend the rest of his life with you. You guys don’t have to rush to get married. I know Kurt doesn’t mind waiting until you’re ready, so don’t get worried and don’t feel pressured alright?”

Blaine nods, eyes shining but face more at ease.

“How’s everything else?” Burt asks, taking a gulp of tea and wishing he had added more sugar. Blaine shrugs.

“Fine,” Blaine says and Burt feels his lips turn up into a sad smile. He knows things aren’t perfect, they still struggle, but they both try so hard and things are getting better. So much better. Burt considers it an accomplishment that Blaine feels comfortable enough to have this conversation with him and he doesn’t want to push him.

“Come on,” Burt says, standing. “There’s a game on and it’s been way too long since we watched one together.”

Blaine’s face lights up at the suggestion, whether from actual excitement or he’s just glad to be done with the conversation Burt doesn’t know, but he supposes it doesn’t really matter. Blaine’s hands reach out, strong fingers wrapping around the handles of his walker and he pushes himself to his feet, pausing to look back at his tea.

“I got it,” Burt assures and Blaine looks at Burt with such gratitude that Burt’s pretty sure both boys have some secret talent of melting his heart into a big puddle of emotions. Blaine shuffles into the living room, lowering himself onto the couch and Burt sets his tea on the coffee table before collapsing into the armchair and flipping through the channels until he finds the game. Blaine doesn’t say anything, but he watches intently, only breaking his gaze to sip his tea and the silence is comfortable.

Burt can see Blaine slowly relax as the game goes on, the slightest smile curling his lips and he looks so content and Burt knows nothing really has changed. Despite everything, Blaine is still Blaine and Kurt is still Kurt, and nothing could ever pull them apart.