He watches Blaine intently, waiting for the moment when he snaps out of his daze, grabs his child and orders the driver to drop Kurt home. But Blaine barely moves; Kurt can’t even be absolutely sure that he’s still breathing. The broken man sits; slumped against the window, face expressionless, eyes closed against the horrible new turn his life has taken. The baby sleeps in her carry case between them, she’s too small, Kurt thinks, too fragile, he knows there’s a limit to the care he’ll be able to give her. There’s a deep pang in his heart when he realises she hasn’t bonded, with her father or mother, she hasn’t made skin-to-skin contact with either of her parents. She’s been handled by medical staff in gloves and a stranger who’ll be gone from her life in a matter of hours. In his mind he begins to formulate a plan, he’ll get to Blaine’s house, let him sleep of this dazed state and leave as soon as Blaine has regained his ability to function, if he still needs help he can phone family or friends and Kurt can leave them and go back to his life.

It begins to rain and Kurt watches as the droplets race each other down the window pane behind Blaine’s face. The driver has fallen silent and Kurt feel’s his eyes staring at the two men with a child that seems to belong to neither.

.....

Kurt hands over all the cash he has on him when they arrive at a small house in the suburbs, it’s far too much and probably all he’s going to have to live on this week but he just needs to get out of this situation. He pulls the car seat out of the back, slams the door and turns as the cab pulls out of the drive. When he looks around for Blaine he’s surprised to see the front door already open and Blaine walking slowly up the stairs. Kurt dashes in after him, putting the baby down inside the front door and running up the stairs after Blaine.

The house smells new, he notices, the walls are freshly painted and there are still boxes and suitcases piled haphazardly on the landing. There are no pictures and nothing that indicates this was the hope of a young couple with a baby on the way. Kurt reaches out to grab Blaine’s shoulder but he’s too late and the door Blaine just walked through slams in his face. He stands frozen and just stares at the door, his eyes filling up with the frustration and injustice. It’s all he can do to stop himself running in there and yelling and shaking and punching until Blaine wakes up and realises none of this shit is Kurt’s problem and he has a day old baby to care for.

But Kurt knows the slamming means defeat, he’ll have to stick around for a while longer and a sudden ghastly mewing and bawling from downstairs reminds him of that. He runs downstairs, sick with worry and guilt that he left her there alone, his knowledge of new- born infants was limited but he’s pretty certain you don’t leave them unattended for any length of time.

The first thing he notices when he picks up the baby is the smell. A noticeably filled-diaper smell, Kurt may be a baby novice but he can tell a full diaper when he’s near one. He holds her gingerly as he makes his way back upstairs, he tries two doors before he reaches the nursery room, a bathroom and a small guest room. The nursery is beautiful, a pale yellow with tiny birds and trees painted in a fine hand. There’s a large fitted wardrobe with huge mirrors for doors reflecting the room, making it seem doubly spacious. They reflect a crib against the back wall and a changing dresser next to it, Kurt gets the sense the room isn’t quite finished and it’s a moment before he remembers that baby girl came too early. Kurt stands for a moment glaring at his reflection, he’s wearing the same clothes as he was yesterday, his hair is a mess and he’s holding a baby. A baby that isn’t his.

He remembers his quest for nappies and places the baby on the changing table as he searchers through the cupboards, he praises a God he doesn’t believe in when he finds a bumper bag of new-born diapers and some creams and lotions in the second draw he opens. He drags his nails through the packaging plastic, ripping open the bag and grabbing a diaper; he scoops up the bottles of lotion and places everything behind the baby’s head.

He stares blankly at the assembled items and a sinking feeling rushes through his insides.

He doesn’t even know where to start.

On instinct his hand reaches for the phone that sits snugly in the back pocket of his skinny jeans and it isn’t until the line is ringing that he registers calling carole. He doesn’t have to wait long before a warm voice says ‘Kurt!’ with delight, ‘Carole’ Kurt says urgently, ‘Carole, I need help… how exactly do you change a diaper?’