March 29, 2013 7:30 AM

Burt Hummel never planned on having more than one child.

After Elizabeth died, he didn't think he could take the hurt. He didn't think he could stand to love someone else, only to lose them the way he had lost her.

So he avoided it, avoided love, for as long as he could. He loved Kurt and would not let anything happen to Kurt and that was enough.

Kurt introduced him to Carole when he was in high school. He remembered hearing about her son first, some kid Kurt had a crush on, and he figured it would fade; but then he met her, and he fell so hard and fast he didn't have time to guard his heart. So Burt Hummel's heart was cracked open, little by little, and his family grew. The number of people he truly loved grew. Carole, Finn, Kurt--they did well together. And Burt was happier with two sons than he knew he could be.

Then, Kurt met Blaine.

Burt thought he was a little cocky at first. Showing up in his kid's bed, coming into his shop and giving him parenting advice--but he could tell Blaine cared, really cared, about Kurt. That softened him. And there was just something about that kid that he liked.

When they started dating, he wasn't surprised in the least. Burt could have told you that those two kids loved each other from the minute he first saw them in the same room together. He was happy for them. Kurt seemed happier than he had been in years--Blaine gave him something that Burt, Carole, and Finn could not. A kind of family all to himself. A kind of love that everyone, at some point in their lives, grows to need, a kind that no parent can give. For that, Burt was grateful. So Blaine was added to their little family. Another person to reserve a space in Burt's heart.

When they broke up, he was surprised. He was worried. The concern didn't last long, though; It became obvious to him that Blaine still loved Kurt, and Kurt, though he tried to deny it, loved Blaine. Hell, Kurt may even have fooled himself into thinking he didn't anymore, but he couldn't fool Burt.

So Burt waited. Waited for them to realize what they felt. And while he waited, Blaine wormed further and further into his heart, even while he was apart from Kurt. He would come over on weekends and watch football with him and Finn. He would help Carole in the kitchen when she felt like baking. Sometimes, he would join their Friday night family dinners.

When Kurt and Finn went away to college and the army, it was quite a blow for both Burt and Carole. They didn't know what to do with themselves. They had spent the better part of their lives single-handedly raising their sons, revolving around their needs and wants, and suddenly they just weren't anymore. Their sons were adults, and when had that happened, anyway? What were they supposed to do with their lives now?

Blaine softened the blow. He kept coming over for those dinners. Sometimes, Burt would let Blaine and the Glee kids hold practice in the house just to hear some familiar, angsty teenage voices.

When Burt got sick, Blaine was there. He reported back to Kurt, he brought Burt the sports section of the local newspaper and chipped in when he went on about how a change needed to be made in the lineup next year, and sometimes, in idle moments, he'd flip through a Vogue while Burt flipped through the channels on the TV. It was comforting and familiar. Almost like having Kurt there.

Burt fell asleep in his chair one day while Blaine was there, zipping about and making tea, and when he woke up, Blaine was gone. He figured he'd left for the day--good for the kid, he doesn't do enough for himself, he should get out more. But he walked upstairs and found him asleep on Kurt's bed.

Burt knew that as much as he missed his sons, he had another one right here.

No one could replace Kurt. But no one could replace Blaine, either, or Finn. Somehow, Burt's promise of avoidance, his promise to himself to protect his heart, had been utterly shattered, and he didn't regret it one bit. He loved his family. He would go on loving them and protecting them until the day he couldn't anymore.

He just hadn't thought that day would be today. Hadn't thought it would be like this.

Burt sat with Kurt in the waiting room; they'd gotten there thirty minutes before visiting hours, at Kurt's insistence; and he watched his son white-knuckle the arm of a chair for a good fifteen minutes before he reached over and took his hand.

"Remember how you sat with me, when I had my heart attack?"

Kurt nodded and a tear glittered at the corner of his eye.

"We're gonna do just that with Blaine. Okay?"

Kurt squeezed his hand and Burt squeezed back. They knew what it meant. It meant, things will be okay. Even when they're not okay, even when it seems like nothing will ever be okay, things will be okay. Because we're both here.

So they were going to go in there and make it okay.

Because, goddammit, Burt was not losing another person. Kurt was not losing another person.

Burt would not watch someone they loved die again.