PART ONE: I’m Awake and Feel the Ache

Burt knows something is wrong when his son calls him scarcely thirty minutes after he’d dropped Kurt off at Mercedes’ house.

Glee Club, along with returning the sunny disposition he’s been used to, gives his son friendship unlike that he’d had since elementary school. As soon as it became clear that Kurt wasn’t going to “man up” and start liking the things that the other boys liked, he had been shunned by boys and girls (and their parents) alike. That group of weird, singing misfits is the only place Kurt has felt wanted in years and his happiness shows.

After throwing that solo last week, Burt was thrilled to see Kurt primping himself this evening before he left for Mercedes’, cheerfully chattering about how they were planning to watch a movie and eat pizza.

Which makes his sudden wish to disappear that much more troubling.

And then he hears “Rio” blasting from Kurt’s room.

As if Burt hadn’t worn that mixtape tape out enough listening to it in high school, Kurt has listened to it as much since he found the collection of mixtapes his mother had made Burt three years ago. Burt Hummel has now heard “Rio” so many times that he disregards planes flying overhead, assuming it is the opening moments of the song.

Kurt usually listens to the mixtape after especially bad days or exceptionally good ones, although there have been many more of the former than the latter in the last few years. His son hasn’t had need to get out the tape in a long time, not since he joined Glee club.

After ten more minutes of the tape, it seems that the volume isn’t going to come down, and Burt realizes that Kurt must be crying and doesn’t want him to know. When he finishes the tape and it starts over a short while later, Burt decides it’s time to check on his his son.

Kurt is sitting in his bed, knees crooked and pulled up to hide his face. His shoulders are shaking violently and the music is so loud that he doesn’t even hear Burt in his room until he turns the music off. Kurt’s head jerks up and he opens his mouth as if to say something, but no words come out. The strength of the silence is almost worse than the blaring music.

Burt stands next to the bed, wondering if Kurt’s having one of those days where he wants to be hugged or to not be touched. When Kurt’s head drops back to his knees, Burt can’t wait anymore. “Are you gonna tell me what happened at Mercedes’ house?”

A deep sigh huffs from Kurt’s lips, and Burt knows it’s going to be a talking day. “Well, it’s my fault, really. I never asked Mercedes specifically what we were watching. When she said “the new Disney movie”, I just assumed we were going to watch WALL-E. I didn’t even know Up was out on DVD yet.”

Kurt pauses and Burt waits, assuming he’s going to continue. When he doesn’t, Burt sits down on the bed and says, “I’m gonna need a little more.”

“There’s a character in Up named Ellie.”

Burt tilts his head. “I understand that’s your mom’s name and all, but I don’t get—”

“Ellie—” Kurt sobs, eyes squeezing shut as if trying to shut out the feelings.“Ellie dies near the beginning of the movie.”

“Oh.” Burt has no idea what to say, how to fix this. He watches Kurt crying with helplessness. Kurt tries his best not to cry in front of his father, and Burt hasn’t seen Kurt shed this many tears since he had his blood taken to check his antibody titers before enrolling in McKinley.

“I just, I miss her so much sometimes, you know?” he said, tears streaming from his eyes.

“Yeah, I know.”

“I just couldn’t stop thinking about her...near the end. When the doctors just sent her home, and I didn’t get it. I just thought she was getting better and she was going to be with us again, and you tried to tell me, but I wasn’t listening and I just—” he stops abruptly. “All those pills. And I still didn’t get it, not until she told me she couldn’t come to my dance recital. Mommy never would’ve missed my dance recital.

“I remember sitting on the bed with her, watching the tape you’d made and she told me she was so glad that I learned to dance instead of joining T-ball. And when I asked her why, she said that dancing made me happy and that was the most important thing, even if the other boys made fun of me.” His voice dissolves into a full body shudder, his arms wrapping around his knees and pulling them in impossibly closer to his torso. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, wiping his eyes. “I’m just being silly.”

Burt emphatically shakes his head and places his hand on Kurt’s foot, trying not to cry himself.“No, kiddo. It’s not silly to cry about your mother. You loved her and it wouldn’t be fair to her or you to expect you to forget her.”

Kurt presses his lips together and looks at the wall to his left instead of at Burt. “I know, but I just—”

“I’m not fragile, Kurt. And I’m not gonna kick you out for missing your mother every now and again.” He pauses and waits until Kurt nods. “The neighborhood watch, though. They might kick us out of the house if you keep playing your music that loud.”

Kurt laughs wetly, sniffling. “Sorry about that.”

Burt ruffles his hair. “It’s okay. Just, next time, take it down a few decibels.”

-β-

PART TWO: Stitched Up Tight, Can’t Shake Free

Eleanor Anderson doesn’t often hear from her nephew, so it’s quite disconcerting when “Love is the Drug” comes unforgivingly from her cell phone. She had introduced Blaine to Roxy Music when he was 12, dancing on the “antique leather” couch in her parents’ stuffy basement to some old vinyl of hers.

“You like that?” she had asked him, never having seen him look so cheerful in this house with so many judging eyes. Blaine, she had noticed, mostly kept to himself, his cousins not wanting to play with him because he likes different things and the adults not deigning to speak to the “little odd child” who likes musicals.

He nodded emphatically, eyes bright, and said, “I like this much more than what my father listens to.”

She grinned. “I know that. Your father has no taste. He never has had any.”

He giggled for a few seconds and then looked around, as if he might be caught. He must have decided it was safe, because he asked, “Aunt Ellie, do you have any more suggestions?”

Since then, Ellie has become Blaine’s confidant, the one person he could count on to be honest and supportive. Blaine only calls Ellie when something is wrong. The last time she heard from him, he was in the hospital, having been severely beaten by three guys in his high school. Four broken ribs, punctured lung, broken ankle, broken left arm, broken nose, and both knee caps shattered. Ellie would never forget Blaine’s voice breaking, not when he listed his injuries, but when he related that his father told him that he should never have asked “that goddamn fairy” to the dance.

Ellie answers the phone with forced cheer, “What’s up, Blainers?”

He sighs in relief. His voice is slow and quiet when he says, “Nothing, I was just calling to check on you.”

She raised her eyebrows, never knowing Blaine to be particularly worried about her. “I’m just fine. Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah,” he answered quickly. “I’m fine.”

She hears faint laughter across the line and asks, “Where are you?”

“Oh, the Glee club at Dalton, the Warblers, invited me to watch a movie with them. I’m in one of the guys’ rooms.”

“Oooh, is he cute?”

She could practically hear the blush rise to his cheeks. “Ellie, that’s not the point. I’m new here; I’m just trying to make friends.”

“Sure,” she said. Teasing Blaine was so easy. “So what movie have the illustrious Warblers invited you to see?”

“The new Disney movie, Up.”

She tries to remember if she had heard about that one. “That’s the one with the balloon house, right?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, but we haven’t gotten there yet.”

“If you’re not even in the main part of the movie, why did you call me?”

“Just making sure you were alright.” He sounds entirely too guilty for that to be the whole truth.

“Did someone say something to you or—”

“No, I just—There’s a character named Ellie; I thought of you.”

She’s sure that still isn’t the whole story, but she decides not to push it. “So, how is Dalton? What’s it like being a sophomore?”

“I wouldn’t know; I’m a freshman.”

She furrowed her brow. “Blaine, you’re fifteen.”

“Yeah, but I missed a lot of school last year, and Dalton’s curriculum is much harder than my last high school so...” He’s trying to sound nonchalant, but is failing miserably.

“Blaine,” she says sympathetically. “I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“It’s fine,” he answers. “At least I don’t have to take Geometry with the senior potheads anymore.”

The joke has much less effect than it probably would on anyone else, but she can hear him trying too hard. “Do you like your fellow boy wonders? Are they all the brochure makes them out to be?”

Blaine sighs again, this time in annoyance at his aunt’s antics. “They’re very accepting. I like them a lot.” He’s quiet for a few seconds and then he says, “I feel safe here.”

The volume of the declaration is so low that she wonders if he’s ever even dared to think it, let alone admit it. Does he dread being around others so much that he can’t allow himself to feel safe, to get complacent? Is he afraid of losing his edge?

“Anything else going on?” she asks.

Her previous suspicions are confirmed when he says, “I started taking boxing lessons.”

“Oh really?” She wants to make a joke, but there isn’t one. No quip will ever make her feel better about the fact that her nephew, the one who likes to dance on furniture to music way before his time, has started taking lessons to make sure he can fight back. Ellie will never forgive Lima Senior High School for allowing her sweet, goofy Blaine to be blatantly beaten down by other students and ignored. She’ll also never forgive her brother for allowing Blaine to become hard, to be angry at the world, to be angry with himself.

“Yeah,” he answers. “I’m hoping it’ll help me with...you know, everything.”

“Me too, Blainers, me too.”

“Well, I’d better get back to the guys before they start looking for me and asking questions.”

“Alrighty,” she says, “I’ll talk to you later.”

“You’re coming to Thanksgiving, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I heard you cut off all your hair and started wearing it like your father; I just have to see how you look so I can make fun of you.”

He sighs, but she can tell he’s joking. “I’ll wait with bated breath.”

-β-

PART THREE: They Take Away The Lonely Days For Now

Carole is surprised when Blaine shows up for Thanksgiving with a woman.

It’s not really the fact that it’s a woman, but that when Blaine said he was going to bring another Anderson she expected the brother he always carefully avoided naming, the mere mention of whom darkened his usually bright smile. This woman is clearly not his sister, looking closer to her own age than Blaine’s, although her resemblance to Blaine was unmistakable.

Carole holds her hand out to the guest. “Hi, I’m Burt’s wife.”

The woman grins, “Carole, right? Blaine’s said a lot about you.”

Carole looks at Blaine out of the corner of her eye. “He has, has he?”

“Yes,” the woman replies with sly smile. “I believe the exact wording was, “the least evil stepmother I’ve ever met.’”

Carole grins. “I’m glad my reputation precedes me.”

“I had hoped mine would do the same, but clearly, you have no idea who I am. I’m Blaine’s aunt, Ellie. The cool aunt, I like to think.”

Carole hopes her smile stays on her face. “Ellie, you say?” she asks faintly.

Ellie looks quickly at Blaine and then back to Carole. “Yes. Oh God, he hasn’t been telling you horror stories, has he?”

“No, no. He doesn’t really talk about his family.” Carole says it as if it isn’t one of the most frustrating things about the boy, along with his unwillingness to call her “Carole” and not “Mrs. Hummel” or “ma’am.” “It’s just that Ellie is the name of Burt’s first wife.”

Ellie looks taken aback. “Oh. Was it a messy divorce?”

Carole shakes her head. “No, nothing like that. They loved each other very much. She died about ten years ago. Leukemia.”

“Oh.”

Carole can’t imagine why Blaine wouldn’t have told his aunt this crucial information. She assumes that Kurt never mentioned the first name of his mother. “It’ll be fine,” Carole assures her. “Kurt and Burt are very resilient.” She moves to stand beside Ellie, watching the interactions in the room.

Burt and Finn are avidly watching the football game, Burt cursing Detroit with enthusiasm while Finn nods, looking like a bobblehead. Blaine and Kurt are standing very close to one another, talking quietly. Blaine’s grinning and Kurt isn’t far from it, practically beaming at Blaine while he straightens his impeccably straight bowtie.

“They’re sweet, aren’t they?” Ellie remarks, eyes also on the boys.

Carole nods. “I’ve never seen anyone quite like them. They’re very...adult, I suppose.”

Ellie nods. “Blaine had to grow up earlier than I’d like. I think Kurt must’ve been the same way.”

Carole glances at Ellie, seeing that her shoulders are tense, drawing up around her ears. “Yes.”

Blaine and Kurt start moving in her periphery, Blaine leading Kurt towards them with a hand at his lower back.

“Kurt,” he says, gesturing towards Ellie, “this is the aunt I told you about, Ellie.”

Kurt’s eyes widen and his neck jerks toward Blaine for a moment before he looks at Ellie, a woman quite unlike his own mother. “I’m Kurt,” he says, looking intently to the side of Ellie’s face. Carole can’t quite figure out why he would do such a thing until he says, “I love your earrings.”

A smile graces Ellie’s face as she says, “Hippos are a particular favorite of mine.”

-β-

PART FOUR: You Can Wrap Your Fingers ‘Round My Thumb and Hold Me Tight

Rachel expected that meeting Kurt and Blaine’s daughter would be more of a to-do than they made it. Of course, she had also expected to be invited much earlier. They had lived together for close to five years in their tiny New York City apartment; their lives had eventually overlapped so easily that it felt like something was missing in her own apartment for months after they parted ways. She anticipated being the official unofficial Aunt Rachel, babysitting when they needed it, having a defined place in their little family. It comes as a bit of a shock to her when they don’t tell her she’s welcome to meet their daughter for a week after she’s born.

As a result, she’s not sure where she belongs in their lives, or in the life of the tiny girl with the tiny black curls in the tiny side room in their tiny apartment, so she stands at the foot of the crib, watching.

Kurt and Blaine also look down from the sides of the bassinet at their daughter in a pale yellow onesie with a baby hippo on it. Rachel’s never seen Blaine so emotional, and she’s witnessed quite a few of his intense ballads. His eyes are bright and wet and they won’t leave his daughter. Her torso rises and falls with little puffs of air and Blaine’s fingers ghost over her stomach. Breath rushes out of Kurt as he grips the ridge of her bed. Both of them are intent on watching her in different ways, Blaine touching her as if she’ll disappear and Kurt gazing at her like he’s afraid to break her.

Yet, both of them wear the same expression. She’s their everything. They look at her as if she’s the resolution to all the conflicts they encountered in high school, the inside track to all the times they felt like they were on the outside of their friendships, the peace at the end of all their fighting to just live the life they deserved, their reward for trying so hard to survive.

She gets now why she wasn’t allowed over for a while. If she had something that precious and important, she’d keep it to herself as long as she could.

“She’s beautiful,” Rachel offers, not sure how to say that she’s thrilled for them, for the best friends she’s ever had, that they got this solution to all the pain in their lives.

Kurt shakes his head. “You know, you prepare for this sort of thing for so long and then—” he trails off, reaching a hand in to stroke over her tiny head, riotous curls fighting back as best they can.

Blaine nods. “She’s actually ours, you know?”

Rachel still isn’t sure what to say. “What did you decide to name her?” she asks, figuring that there will be a story to give her more to go on, more to say that wouldn’t be inane in the wake of the sheer emotion on their faces.

“Ellie. Eleanor Elizabeth Hummel.”