It was another brilliantly sunny, bitingly cold day, and Blaine was out. It felt like he hadn't left the apartment in ages, and the crisp air and sunshine felt just as refreshing as he'd hoped they would. He'd also hoped that going out would help alleviate the crushing guilt he still felt, but that wasn't a wound that would heal easily.

Time had started slowly scabbing it over, though, and he and Kurt were slowly stitching themselves together. Blaine just wondered when the time would come when they'd be sewn together completely.

Stepping into a department store, he wandered toward a display of colorful scarves. He took one in hand, feeling its softness, and immediately thought of how amazing it would look wrapped around Kurt's beautiful neck. Buying Kurt things wouldn't make up for what Blaine had done, he knew that, and Kurt really didn't need things, anyway, but...

"Detective Anderson?"

Blaine turned, still holding the scarf, and was immediately assaulted by hot pink. "Sugar," he said slowly, a half-smile forming as the schoolgirl approached him eagerly. "How have you been?"

"Fine!" she said happily, blushing. "I mean-- Winter break is almost over, but I've been able to spend time with my Daddy and he got me a new car for Christmas so that's good."

"Good," Blaine echoed, blinking. "Looking forward to going back to school?" he added carefuly.

Sugar's smile faded just a fraction, but Blaine caught it. He reached into his pocket for his wallet, opened it and pulled out a business card. He handed it to Sugar and tried to ignore the way her eyes lit up when she saw his phone number.

"Sugar, look at me," he said. When she did, he caught her gaze, locking it there. He placed a firm hand on her shoulder, speaking clearly and carefully. "I want you to take that and please, if anything happens at school--anything suspicious, anything that makes you feel afraid or uncomfortable--you call me, okay? Anytime at all. All right?"

The girl's eyes were wide and alarmed, so Blaine gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Everything's okay, don't worry. I just want you to know that you have someone to talk to if anything happens." He smiled. "Okay?"

"Okay," said Sugar. nodding. "I gotta go now." Blaine squeezed her shoulder once more and watched her briefly as she turned and left.

He hesitated for a moment, then took the scarf off the rack and bought it.

--

The walk home was pleasant, though frigid, and Blaine was in good spirits until he passed by the bar. His footsteps slowed and he looked up at the signs, at the promises of good times and everything alcohol should have been, but wasn't.

He started walking again.

With Kurt's encouragement and support he'd dumped most of his liquor down the sink, keeping only a handful of beers to wean himself off of it. He didn't think he was at the 12-step program point, and those never worked unless you were religious anyway--and things were going well. He hadn't had a drink since, even with the beers in his fridge, and he thought about dumping those too when he felt the phone in his pocket vibrate.

A text message from Mike: almost a daddy get ur ass over here godfather


Oh my God. Blaine dropped everything and ran.

--

Blaine wondered if he'd ever go a month without being in a hospital, idly paging through a magazine while Mike paced back and forth near Tina's room. He heard his friend sigh heavily for what had to be the hundredth time, and turned to look over his shoulder at him.

"You can sit down, you know," he informed him. "It's going to be hours more, probably. Labor isn't like in the movies, where babies pop out in two minutes."

"Says the voice of experience," Mike grumbled, taking the seat across from Blaine and folding his hands. After a while he moved them to hold his head, looking frazzled, and Blaine waited for him to burst out with something.

He did. "Do you think I can do it?"

"Sit still for more than an hour?"

"No-- Be a dad. What if I suck at it? What if she doesn't even like me?"

"Don't you think you're getting a little ahead of yourself there?"

"Come on, dude. Pat my ass a little, please? I need it right now."

Blaine sighed, then reached out to put his hand on Mike's shoulder. "Michael Robert Chang," he said softly, laughter in his voice--though he was being sincere. "You are the single most trustworthy, capable man I've ever met. Not to mention patient-- Dealing with my shit for all these years?"

Mike laughed. "Thanks, brother."

"No problem. Now sit still, for Christ's sake. I need to use the bathroom."

He got to his feet, wandering out of the maternity ward. Honestly, he needed to stretch his legs a little. Since giving up drinking he found that sitting idly made him jumpy, so he set off at a brisk pace, striding down the halls with no particular destination in mind.

The bathroom seemed like a decent place to end up. He walked inside and stood by the mirror, examining himself. Deep lines were forming around his eyes, and his hair was scraggly and unkempt as usual. Frowning, he attempted to push it back-- As a kid, he'd been very meticulous about combing and taming his hair with gel; without it his hair would fly all over the place, and it had made him severely self-conscious in a world he already didn't fit into. Now, it didn't seem to matter.

Sighing, he pulled back, standing upright. He knew Kurt was there without even seeing him.

"I don't think there's anything of interest for you here," he said softly to the boy, glancing over at him.

As usual, Kurt looked small. He wore an outfit typical of himself--a loose grey shirt that hung low on his wrists and around his hips, and skinny jeans. His feet, as usual, were bare.

"I am drawn to hospitals sometimes," Kurt replied, wrapping his arms loosely around himself. "Many people die here. Maybe I'm pulled toward death, who knows."

He held out his hands before him, staring at them. Blaine wasn't sure why, but he had a feeling that Kurt was envisioning the blood on them. Unable to stop himself, he walked behind the boy, reaching around him to take his hands. Slowly he lifted them up, kissing each one.

"Kurt," he murmured. "You should go somewhere else. You liked the park, right? Go there. You don't need to be around death all the time."

"But you're here," was all Kurt said, and Blaine's heart broke. He pulled Kurt's hands in and wrapped his arms around the boy from behind.

So small, he thought. He's so small

"Kurt," he said softly, holding the boy close. "No one should surround themselves in darkness."

Kurt said nothing, but he heard a soft gasp, as if the boy was profoundly affected by his words. He bit his lip, feeling strangely guilty. Don't listen to what I say, Kurt, he thought miserably. I don't know anything.

Suddenly, the silent air was split by the sound of Blaine's phone. It echoed off the tile walls, startling them both. Blaine released Kurt and checked it, and he bit his lip hard.

hurry back somethings wrong

Blaine took Kurt's hand and they left the bathroom, racing back toward the maternity ward as quickly as possible. Blaine's heart sank when he heard Tina screaming, and he stood hesitantly by the door, edging in only when he saw the look on Mike's face.

Doctors and nurses were crowding around her, and Blaine tugged Mike back, a firm grip on his friend's shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he asked carefully.

"They won't tell me," said Mike, his eyes fixed on his wife. "She just won't stop screaming."

"We should step out," said Blaine, tugging gently on Mike's shoulder. Tina's screams had stopped, but he was sure that was because the doctors had sedated her. He tugged a little more firmly, pulling Mike away and out of the room.

The next few hours were spent in limbo, waiting horribly for some kind of news. Mike couldn't see him, but Kurt was there-- He lingered near Blaine, occasionally reaching down to hold onto his sleeve, and Blaine wasn't sure why; Kurt didn't know Tina, so why did he look so worried?

Blaine poured his energy into supporting Mike, standing with him as a doctor approached at last to update them. Through the flatline in Blaine's head he heard 'bleeding severely', 'won't stop', 'stablized but not looking good'--

Mike demanded answers the doctor couldn't give, and Blaine stood by him, holding his shoulder and staring at the doctor without really listening--until he caught sight of something moving out of the corner of his eye.

It was Kurt, walking into the hospital room.

Blaine cursed to himself and followed as discreetly as he could, standing near the doorway as Kurt approached the hospital bed. Fear curled around his heart. What could Kurt possibly want with Tina? He was certain Kurt would never hurt anyone innocent, but--

But am I? he thought, and he hated himself for it. He couldn't stop thinking about Callahan's children, though, even after all was said and done--and he gripped the door frame, watching with baited breath as Kurt laid a hand on Tina's shoulder.

There was nothing he could do. He could only watch as Kurt brushed hair away from Tina's face, looking down at her with an unreadable expression. There was a terrible, stretched-out moment of silence, and then she flatlined.

Blaine's blood ran cold. Bodies tore past him, and he heard Mike let out a sob that made his stomach shrivel. He might have yelled out to Kurt, but his voice was lost in the swarm of activity around him; he could only linger helplessly as Kurt continued to stand still, trying to get the boy's attention away from Tina, but--

The more he watched, though, the more he realized that Kurt couldn't have been hurting Tina. He was still standing there, after all--touching her shoulder gently, his eyes closed as if concentrating. If he'd intended to hurt her, he'd be gone by now, Blaine told himself, and his eyes narrowed as he watched.

Almost instantly, before the doctors could do anything, Tina's heart started up again. Blaine felt Mike sag against him in relief, and supported his partner while his eyes stayed fixed on the scene.

They widened considerably.

Tina wasn't just stable again, she was--she was waking up. With a small groan she stirred, and a nurse rushed to her side to help her sit up. The doctors looked mystified, and Mike cut through them as he rushed to his wife's side.

"Where's my baby?" Tina groaned, and Mike kissed her forehead over and over, laughing and crying with relief.

Blaine turned away. He walked back out into the hallway, slowly recovering from his panic. Reaching up, he slipped his fingers beneath his glasses, touching at his eyes. They came away wet with tears.

--

Blaine opened up a can of Cherry Coke.

It was too sweet and didn't go down as smoothly as beer, but it was a fine enough replacement. He drained half of it then wandered into the living room area, where Kurt was perched on the couch, staring out the window.

The boy turned and smiled at Blaine. "You've lost weight," he said encouragingly. "Beer makes you fat, you know."

Blaine laughed, then moved to sit on the couch beside Kurt. The sun was low now, and the room was painted a faint blue as night approached. He sighed, exhausted. The day was over, but he wasn't ready to rest yet.

He turned to look seriously at Kurt. "You healed her, didn't you?" he murmured.

The smile slipped from Kurt's face. He looked away as if ashamed, and Blaine reached out to gently grasp his chin and turn his head gently.

"Kurt," he said softly, touching the boy's skin with the tips of his fingers. So fucking soft. "What you did... It was incredible. It was a miracle, baby."

"There's no such thing as miracles," Kurt replied, his eyes flickering away. "I need to shower."

Blaine tilted his head and smiled. "Want company?"

Kurt nodded and tugged on Blaine's hand. The trip to the bathroom was silent, and once they were inside Blaine stripped off his shirt and tossed it carelessly to the floor. He moved toward the sink, then angled his head so he could watch Kurt disrobe.

He felt the breath knocked out of him, and caught Kurt's eye as the boy pushed his shirt off his slender white shoulders. Kurt was terribly thin, fragile like a doll, but Blaine knew about the indomitable strength beneath those frail bones.

Kurt was the strongest person he had ever met, living or otherwise.

They stepped into the shower and said nothing-- Just stood close together, touching and breathing, all gliding fingertips and glances and tactile comfort. Things didn't grow sexual between them until they were in the bedroom, and Kurt had spread himself out on the bedspread, looking up through his long lashes at Blaine.

Blaine forgot to breathe again, and just stared unblinkingly at Kurt as he slid his fingers over the line of the boy's ribcage.

"Kurt," he said finally. "I don't know. After what I almost did to you--"

A slim finger reached up and pressed against Blaine's lips, silencing him. Kurt took Blaine's hand and pressed it against his own smooth cheek, then smiled.

"No one should surround themselves in darkness," he said.

Something tugged inside Blaine and he leaned down without a second thought, pressing their mouths together. He found himself overcome once again by the pure, clean taste of Kurt--indescribable in its simplicity, its lack of anything worldly or tangible, its inability to be tugged around or weighed down by words. His arms slid underneath the boy's slim body, crushing them together, needing them to be as close as possible.

They spent a long time just kissing, just rubbing, until Kurt slowly drew away. Blaine's mouth immediately found his neck, and Kurt hummed in contenment, dragging brittle fingers through the older man's still-damp curls.

"Blaine," he murmured. Blaine just grunted in reply, still kissing and biting at his neck, and Kurt giggled and tried again. "Blaine..."

"Hm?" Blaine mumbled, looking up.

"I want more than this," Kurt whispered, touching Blaine's cheek with his knuckles, ghosting over his lingering whiskers. "I want..."

Biting his lip, he took Blaine's hand and pushed it down between their bodies. Blaine gasped as he felt his fingers being guided there, and felt his body throb with want.

"Yeah," he said in a husky voice, and pulled up and away from Kurt. He rustled through his bedside drawer and took out a half-empty bottle of lube. He didn't have time to get lost in memories, to think of the last time he used it with Daniel-- This wasn't about repeating a pattern; it was about making a new one.

He applied the lube to his fingers and reached them down, sliding in between Kurt's beautiful thighs to touch and explore. Even as he slid them inside, felt the warmth and tightness of him, he just couldn't stop looking--at Kurt's jutting hipbones, the soft hair around his cock, the way the boy's lips parted and eyelashes fluttered with each stroke in. Blaine could have done it forever--just spread the boy out and finger him, watch him twist his pretty body and let out those little mewls that made Blaine's cock fucking ache... Kurt had reached up a hand to stop him, though, and they were both unable to wait a second longer.

Kurt's hands were pushing gently at his chest and Blaine nodded, lying down on his back. Kurt slid up and over him, straddling his hips, and Blaine had just enough time to apply lube to his own cock when fuck, Kurt was sliding down, and he'd never felt anything so incredible, and he might have sobbed from how good good good it felt when had he ever been this good--

When had he ever been allowed--

His eyes stayed open the whole time, watching the painfully beautiful sight of Kurt moving over him, and his hands roved over every bit of skin he could touch. His fingers worshipped, sucked the boy in, devoured each sharp angle and little curve and they weren't close enough they could never be close enough-- Blaine felt tears in his throat that didn't reach his eyes, and he finally let himself breathe, hands settling on Kurt's hips as he gently moved the boy up and down.

There was a moment when things became fragmented, when the surreality of Kurt's beauty reached another level, and Blaine found himself reach a strange state of unquestioning acceptance. He didn't say a word as he saw the wings slowly unfold from Kurt's back--sleek and grey-white, slowly rising from his back and spreading wide, beautiful and horrifying at the same time--and instead just pushed himself up on his hands so he could be closer, closer, closer.

Kurt's skinny arms reached for Blaine as if desperately seeking comfort, and Blaine sat up so he could tug Kurt fully into his lap. His hands searched the boy's body, dragging through the feathers on his back, clutching and pulling him as close as possible. He was buried completely inside of Kurt, but didn't want to pull out even for a second, even to gain friction-- Instead, he just rocked them slowly, building momentum until he couldn't take it anymore. His hands reclaimed their bruising grip on the boy's hips, and he fucked fucked fucked, touching and kissing and biting and swallowing, taking everything.

A gorgeous sound left Kurt's throat-- He came? Oh fuck, he came. Blaine was dizzy with the knowledge of it, and pushed Kurt down onto the bed, rutting his hips as hard as he could as he desperately clamored for his own release. If the wings had disappeared, he didn't notice-- He clung to it, the pleasure, the good, wrapping himself in it, nearly sobbing from the knowledge that it wouldn't last forever.

It didn't. One split-second of near-painful pleasure and he was spent, collapsing on top of Kurt with a heavy groan. The wings were gone. There was just flesh, and the pain that Blaine had pushed aside, crashing back down on him.

Two skinny arms curled around him from below, and he pressed his face into Kurt's neck and cried.

--

The sun was rising. If Blaine had fallen asleep, he didn't remember when. He lay on his side, his head pillowed on the sweet curved-in flesh of Kurt's belly, absently stroking the boy's thigh as Kurt's fingers smoothed and played with his hair.

"There's one more," Blaine murmured, speaking for the first time in hours. "One more, and then it's over."

Kurt nodded. A silent understanding took place between them, though the same couldn't be said for acceptance. The world was waking up around them, but the world had stopped mattering to them a long time ago.

"One more."