Burt Hummel had thought he'd seen it all. He thought to some extent, he was done stretching the limits of his understanding. If there was one thing he'd learned from having Kurt as a son, it was that there was no limit to that but still, he'd thought he'd grown enough in one decade.

Pulling a blush-colored lacy gown out of his son's boyfriend's moving box, he realized he was quite wrong.

“Blaine,” he called, taking off his baseball cap.

Blaine buzzed into the room, humming a tune under his breath. He froze. “Oh god,” he said.

Burt cleared his throat. “Look son, I don't really need to know, you know what you and Kurt-I just umm… Where should I put the box?”

Blaine pressed his lips together, tears forming at the edge of his tawny eyes. “I'll just…” he trailed off, avoiding eye contact with the older man. Teardrops stained the hardwood beneath them as Blaine reached forward to take the dress, his eyes remaining planted towards the ground.

“Blaine, look buddy, it's okay-”

“No. No it's not.” Blaine said harshly, grabbing the dress. He pushed it into the box, wiping at his eyes. “Kurt's going to be back with lunch soon, we should get some of this cleared off the table,” he said. He made to move the box before hesitating, blinking back more tears. He was trembling.

“Look what you and Kurt do is your-”

“Please stop saying that,” Blaine choked.

Breathes were beginning to become uneven now, the shaking growing stronger and eyes growing larger. Like trapped prey, Blaine stared around the loft hollowly. Burt swallowed.

“Blaine, does Kurt know about this?” he asked carefully.

The room was silent. Blaine turned to Burt, his expression that of a woman being robbed of her child.

No. Burt thought.

“Please. Don't. Tell him.” Blayne whispered. Her eyes were wide with heavy tears, her skin paler than Burt had ever seen it.

“Blayne…”

She sobbed, her knees giving out as she lurched forward. Burt caught her with the practiced grace of a father, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He eased her onto the floor, giving her space to breathe.

“I'm so sorry,” Blayne cried. She clutched at her arms, pressing her lips together and attempting a brave gust of air. She failed.

Burt reached out blindly, hands hovering above her. His trick knee ached as he joined her on the floor. “Blayne- Blaine-son- shit…”

She cried harder. He took a deep breathe.

“Blayne, honey, Kurt's gonna be here soon and you're gonna have some explaining to do if you're still like this when he's here. I need you to breathe, Blayne, I need you to breathe.”

Blayne nodded, reaching to yank off her bowtie as she quivered through focused spurts of air. Staring at the tie for a moment, she burst into tears once more, tossing it aside.

Burt closed his eyes, cursing internally. Finally, he placed a hand on Blayne's shoulder. He sang in an grumbly sort of voice, straining to stay on key.

“Oh! Darling, please believe me

Ill never do you no harm

Believe me when I tell you

Ill never do you no harm

Oh! Darling, if you leave me

Ill never make it alone

Believe me when I thank you, ooo

Dont ever leave me alone”

As he came to an end, Blayne's restless body began to still, her chest relaxing as she fell into his touch.

She sniffed. “Burt…”

“Look Blayne, I'm not going to pretend I know whats going on or what you're going through, but I know I care about you like you're my own-”

Blayne looked carefully at the floor.

“My own kid. And Kurt loves you more than anything, you know that.”

She turned to him, her face brazenly brave. “I'm a woman, Burt,”

He swallowed. “I wish I could sit here and promise my son won't care Blayne…”

“But he will,” she said quietly. They both sighed. Her little shoulders appeared to seem heavier in a way, although she had clearly let so much out. Too much weight for a kid like her to carry, Burt could tell.

“It would bring up some struggles,” Burt agreed.

“I need to clean up,” she said, rising to her feet. The older man followed, helping her up with a tug of her left hand. She stared at his grasp, pushing her lips together. He withdrew his hand quickly.

“Sorry-”

“No, it's okay,” she said. “It's kind of nice.”

He rubbed his head, covering it quickly with his NYC baseball cap. Reaching for his wallet, he flicked out two crisp twenty dollar bills.

“Get a storage locker,” he said evenly. “You need a place for this stuff till you're… Ready,”

She smoothed out her hair. “I can't-”

The front door rattled. “Dad! Blaine! My hands are full, can you get the door?”

Blayne looked like she might throw up. She scurried towards the bathroom.

“Just a minute, kid, we're carrying some stuff,” Burt called to the front of the loft. He followed Blayne, stopping the door before she locked it shut. He pressed the money into her hand.

“Oh and Blayne?”

“Yes, Mr. Hummel?”

“That dress was really pretty. I bet it looks nice on you,” He offered her a small smile, releasing the cash with a sense of finality. Flushing scarlet, she shook her head before closing the door.