Blaine stares down at the little plastic stick with a numbness that scares him. He knows that his heart is beating too quickly, that there are tears rolling down his face and his breathing is erratic, but he feels detached from all of this, his only focus on the two pink lines.

He slides down the wall of his bathroom, the tile cold against his back, and he shivers, drops the test to the floor and wraps his arms around his knees as he sobs violently.

Eventually, his mother comes in to check on him, and Blaine is startled – he must have been in here for a while for her to worry, but he hasn't even noticed time passing.

"Blaine? Honey, what's wrong?"

His mother crouches down next to him, her touch light and tentative on his shoulder and Blaine breaks down once again, burying his face in his mother's soft wool sweater, holding tight to her as she shushes him and rocks him, just like when he was a little boy and the kids would tease him for his bowties and cleanliness.

"Sweetie what is it? Are you alright? Is everything okay with you and Ku-"

"Mama, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"

"Blainey, no, hush it's alright, just tell me what's-"

Her voice breaks off abruptly and Blaine swallows hard as he watches his mother's long fingers pick up the pregnancy test from the floor. He can see her hand shaking, can feel her chest stuttering as she tries to speak.

"Okay. Blaine, it's okay, everything's going to be just fine, sweetie. I love you, darling, I love you so much; it's okay, shh, don't cry, darling."

-

When Blaine opens his eyes in the morning the first thing he sees is the very serious face of his two –'most free!He can hear her whine in his head - year old daughter. Birdie quirks an eyebrow at him – it always hurts his heart when she does this, so similar to her other father that it kills him – when he doesn't move to get out of bed. Blaine continues to stare at her, hoping to win this morning, when she suddenly rolls her eyes and starts to tug at his blankets.

"Daddy!" She whines, her voice so light and sweet, even while pouting.

He laughs at her, his voice sounding rough and low from his sleep and he reminds himself that when it comes to her, he'll never win.

"Fine, fine, I'm up, I'm up!"

She grins toothily, tossing her dark red hair over her shoulder, and scampers off of his bed. Blaine swings his legs over the side of the bed and shivers when his bare feet hit the cold floor. Birdie gives him a judgmental look and pads over to his dresser, reaching up on her tippy toes to retrieve some thick, wool socks for him. He thanks her with a kiss to her cheek and slips them on before he starts to collect his outfit for the day.

Birdie fidgets impatiently as he holds up two different cardigans in front of him, contemplating.

"That one daddy! Hurry up!"

Blaine raises an eyebrow at her, puts back the blue cardigan back and then shoos Birdie out of his room, tells her to go watch her morning cartoons and then closes his door, sighing when he notices the time on his alarm clock.

-

Blaine blinks back tears as the call goes to voicemail again. He's been trying even harder to get a hold of Kurt ever since he found out he's pregnant, but to no avail.

Blaine understands, of course he does; he ruined everything that he and Kurt had together, and now he's pregnant – ruining things yetagain– so why would Kurt want to talk to him?

Everything hurts too deeply, he's overwhelmed with all this baby stuff, and the Glee kids are on him more than ever to whip the New Directions into shape, lead the musical and fix their problems.

Blaine can't even help himself right now, why would they think he can help them too?

-

He's just dropped Birdie off with Quinn when it happens.

Blaine's trying to juggle his bag, phone, coffee and his notes for a test when he bumps into a man, his things flying everywhere. He lands hard on his ass, wincing as he tries to get back up and apologize to the man, when a voice he hasn't heard in three years says, "Oh my god I amsosorry, I wasn't paying attention and – Blaine?"

Blaine's head snaps up, his eyes widening at Kurt, standing before him with a mixed expression – both hopeful and cautious.

The years have been good for Kurt; he's filled out so much, his jaw and shoulders are more defined than ever, and he also carries himself more confidently than Blaine can remember. But there is also something about Kurt that Blaine notices, something sad and lonely.

Kurt offers him a hand and Blaine takes it gratefully, trying to ignore how soft Kurt's hands are, how sure his grip is.

"Kurt! Wow, um, hi! It's been so long, how are you?"

He shrugs, his lips quirking into a self conscious smile. "I'm okay. Working for Vogue still – though I am getting paid for it now!"

"That's great, Kurt, really, I'm so proud of you."

Kurt's cheeks turn a light shade of red and he ducks his face down, eyes widening when he notices Blaine's things still littered on the ground. He quickly kneels down and begins gathering Blaine's papers, Blaine joining him a second later.

They work in silence, and once all of Blaine's things are sorted they stand, the both of them wondering what comes next.

"Do you want to go get coffee?"

Blaine blinks in surprise at Kurt's question. His heart begins to beat double time and an image of Birdie grinning at him flashes through his head.

He clears his throat and nods, smiling slightly as he says softly, "I'd love to, Kurt."

-

Their coffee date is awkward at first, but after the initial ten minutes spent stuttering through questions and answers about their lives, it gets better.

And after the first coffee date comes more, which turn into lunch and dinner dates and late night texts, phone calls during lunch breaks when they can't get away to see each other.

It kills Blaine to lie to Kurt every time he sees him, but whenever he opens his mouth to tell Kurt about Birdie his throat closes up and he changes the subject as quickly as he can.

It's on a Thursday, as Kurt walks Blaine back to campus after having lunch at their favorite café, that Kurt finally hugs Blaine, his arms light around Blaine's body and a bit hesitant, smelling faintly of mint and chocolate.

Blaine gasps into it, his arms reaching up to hang over Kurt's broad shoulders, hands clutching at Kurt's shoulder blades and drifting into his hair.

They separate with a soft rustle of fabric, but they don't move away from each other for awhile, and instead stand there close together, sharing the same breath, arms holding tight to each other.

-

Blaine rubs a hand over his swollen belly, chancing a glance at the book lying on the bottom shelf of his bookshelf.

It is a book of baby names, a book that Blaine has only gone through once, before he forced himself to put it down.

He doesn't know why he's looking at it now, of all days, he's not even keeping his baby – no,thebaby.

The last time he went through the book had been the day he found out the baby was a girl. Blaine had decided to imagine what life would be like if he was keeping her, if Kurt returned his calls, if things weren't horribly complicated.

He'd found one name that had stuck out for him, something old fashioned and quirky that both he and Kurt would have loved.

Unbeknownst to his parents, sometimes he calls her the name in his head, sometimes he talks to her late at night, sings sad little lullabies to her.

Blaine sighs heavily, turns away from the bookshelf and struggles to get up off his bed. He feels restless and bored and he almost considers calling Cooper to keep him company – his parents are gone, having received a distressed call from his aunt about his mother's father – when suddenly he doubles over in pain, gasping and clutching at his stomach.

His eyes go wide and he struggles to breathe through – a contraction? He's pretty sure it's a contraction. It feels ten times worse than the Braxton Hicks he used to wake up his parents with, gasping in pain and tears of worry streaming down his cheeks.

Blaine swallows thickly and eyes the overnight bag his mother has had packed for him for weeks.

He takes a step forward, two, then three, and as soon as he reaches the bag, another wave of pain passes through him. He leans against the wall and tries his best to breathe deeply through it, but he can feel himself slipping, his eyes beginning to fill with fearful tears.

Blaine's not sure how he's going to do it, but he's going to have to get himself to the hospital, fast.

-

This is not Blaine's week, at all.

Birdie's sick, he has finals this week, he has plans with Kurt, and his rent is due – and with his boss cutting his hours and the trip to the hospital for Birdie earlier in the week, he's just not sure he's going to be able to make this month's rent. He knows he needs to make a call to his father, but he always feels so guilty asking his parents for help; they've been so good to Blaine (and Birdie) ever since Blaine found out that he was pregnant.

And when Blaine decided to keep Birdie – a spur of the moment decision, alone in a hospital bed, sweaty and exhausted and completely in love with the tiny little girl in his arms – his parents had sighed heavily, shared a loaded look between the two of them and then gave Blaine a little smile, hugged him tight. They told Blaine that it would be hard, raising Birdie so young and by himself, but that if anyone could do it, it would be him. Blaine had to fight off tears when his father held his hand and told him that they would help him with anything he needed, while his mother held her granddaughter for the first time.

Blaine sighs, bringing himself back to the present, his eyes darting between the coffee table, littered with books, papers and pans and medicine, to the clock hanging in the kitchen.

He's not even dressed yet, he's more than sure that there are deep, dark bags under his eyes and Birdie is currently –finally– passed in his arms.

Quinn – who was supposed to be watching Birdie for him – is currently stuck in a broken down subway and Blaine's already tried to call Mike, but the boy is knee deep in rehearsals. Blaine doesn't have anyone else he can call; he doesn't have much time for socialization outside of Kurt, Quinn and Mike and Birdie's daycare center doesn't take in children if they're sick.

Blaine doesn't know what to do.

And Kurt is supposed to be here in twenty minutes for their dinner date.

Birdie stirs in his arms and Blaine hurries to shush her, rubbing her back and singing quietly into her soft hair. Birdie's cries don't subside however, and soon her strained voice fills the small apartment – her voice painful and exhausted to Blaine's ears. Blaine's head pounds and his heart hurts to hear his little girl sounding so sick, but he tamps down his pain and focuses on Birdie, walking quickly to the kitchen.

He runs a washcloth under water and presses the moist towel to his daughter's head lightly, runs a soothing hand up and down her back. Birdie whimpers against his shoulder, then coughs for moment, her cries becoming louder and louder, and Blaine startles when he hears a timid knock at his door.

Kurt.