Crayons

"... what a handsome young lad, and so quiet, too! It's precious that your father brings the two of you to work."

Blaine looked up from his coloring at the oddly-dressed elderly lady who was conversing with Cooper and smiled politely, humoring her with a little wave that made her coo. Duty done, he eagerly turned back to his picture.

It had been a long afternoon, almost as long as an actual school day. Blaine normally loved Saturdays because there was no class and it was just him and his mom and usually they would bake together or do crafts, but this week she had to go shopping. When Blaine had asked her why he couldn't come like he usually did, she gave him a weird smile and told him that she was going to a special women's store with a friend to pick up a surprise for his daddy for Valentine's day, and Blaine would only be bored. He had wanted to ask her why a gift for his father would come from a women's store, but had thought better of it. Grown-ups were strange people sometimes.

Blaine wished she had taken him with her. Spending Saturdays at the clinic was boring – his dad was busy and Cooper was mean. He had made fun of Blaine for choosing the Disney coloring book and stepped on his crayons, then set about ignoring him for the rest of the afternoon.

But now the huge clock on the wall said it was 4:30, so Blaine knew they were almost done. There was only one more patient in the waiting room anyways—a teenage girl. Blaine felt almost sorry for her because she looked so sad and alone, and because Cooper appeared to have taken an interest in her for some reason and had been doing silly and stupid things to try and get her attention for the past half hour. If Blaine were him, he'd be embarrassed.

Blaine had just put the finishing touches on Sleeping Beauty's skirt when the front door whooshed open again. He huffed. One more patient showing up this late probably meant they wouldn't get to leave right at five, and Blaine would be stuck here with Cooper for even longer.

Then he looked up.

He could only see the boy's face over the counter, but the face was different from any Blaine had ever seen. While it was clearly male, this boy was... pretty, somehow. He had pale skin, a delicate chin, and a nose that turned up just a little. His eyes were the oddest shade of blue, like the sky and the ocean both rolled into one. Blaine thought that he probably didn't have a crayon that was any color like that.

Blaine stared, and the boy stared back. Then he turned abruptly, sniffling and coughing into his fist, and the spell was broken.

Before he could really think about it, Blaine was grabbing up his book and a fistful of crayons and running around to the other side of the desk. "Blaine!" he heard Cooper chastise. "I thought I told you not to bother the customers!" Blaine ignored him.

He came to a sudden halt right next to the boy, not sure now what to say. The boy was even prettier up close, Blaine decided, but he was dressed strangely. He wore a large red sweater that was falling off of one shoulder, and his jeans had patches in them, one pink and one a patterned blue.

"Hi," he decided on, because that seemed to always be a good place to start.

"Hi," the boy echoed. His voice was high and airy, Blaine noticed, but maybe that was just because of his cough.

"Do you want to color?" Blaine asked, shoving the book in front of his face like an offering.

The boy looked at it for a minute, and Blaine noticed his eyes lighting up a little at the cover. He turned to the man Blaine now noticed was standing next to him, tugging on their clasped hands.

"Dad," he asked him. "Can I?"

The man looked over to Blaine, then back to his son. They looked nothing alike, Blaine noticed. The man wore a faded flannel shirt and a dirty-looking baseball cap. "Sure, buddy," he answered, releasing the boy's hand.

Blaine grinned and grabbed up the boy's hand himself, taking off for the corner of the room with the boy trailing behind him. He settled on the floor and patted the open spot next to him, so the boy would feel welcome. When he had sat, Blaine spread out the book in front of them.

"What picture do you want?" he asked the boy eagerly.

The boy looked thoughtful. "Do you have The Little Mermaid? That's my favorite."

"I like that one too," Blaine said while he flipped through the book. He frowned when he found the section; most of the pages had already been scribbled on. "I'm sorry, all we've got is this one of Prince Eric."

The boy sniffled and studied the picture, one of Eric on his wedding day. "That's ok, I like him too."

Blaine ripped out the picture and handed it to him before turning back to page through the book. "I'm going to do Beauty and the Beast, I think. He stopped on a page of the scene right after the Beast is transformed. "This is my favorite part!"

The boy paused his own coloring, glancing over at the page and smiling at Blaine for the first time. "It's my favorite too."

They colored quietly for a while, sharing the crayons easily. The boy had to pause every so often to cough and once or twice to sneeze. Blaine really just wanted the boy to smile again.

"I like the patches on your jeans," Blaine told him, watching as the boy colored Eric's suit a rosy pink. "They're pretty colors.

Sure enough, the boy beamed. "I like pink and purple best, but it's hard to find clothes in that color, at least for boys." He blushed, and Blaine couldn't help but admire the way the pink tinged his cheeks. "My mom let me pick the patches myself."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Blaine granted. "Boys' clothes are all dark colors and weapons and sports. I don't like it. I like... bowties."

It was a strange thing to confess, and Blaine could feel his own face heating. But the boy just giggled at him (which unfortunately soon turned into a cough) and turned back to his picture, hiding it from view for a moment before pulling back.

"Here," the boy said, holding his picture up for Blaine to see. He had drawn a large, purple bowtie at the prince's neck. "It's perfect now!"

Blaine laughed too, taking the picture from him to admire it. "It really is," he agreed.

Just then the door swung open, and Blaine looked up to see his father's nurse standing at the door. "Kurt Hummel!" she called out, her eyes scanning the room. Kurt stood up and so did his father, who had been sitting a few seats over. As they followed the nurse, Kurt turned back to Blaine and waved.

Kurt, Blaine turned it over in his mind, looking over at Kurt's abandoned picture. At least it looked like he'd finished it.

Blaine grinned, then, because he had an idea. He stood and ran over to the desk. "Cooper!"

"What!" Cooper sounded predictably annoyed, but Blaine ignored it.

"Can I have some scissors?" He paused, thinking for a moment, "and the tape?"

Cooper rolled his eyes dramatically as he dug around in the desk drawer, pulling out a large pair of scissors and handing them to Blaine warily before passing him the tape dispenser. "Don't tell mom and dad I let you use the sharp ones, ok? I don't see the other pair. And leave me alone."

"Ok," Blaine said happily, and quickly returned to the little art corner he'd fashioned.

Working slowly so he didn't mess up, Blaine cut the Beauty and the Beast picture in half. He took the side with the Beast and taped it onto the picture of Eric so that the two princes were facing each other. Then he picked a crayon in a different shade of purple and wrote "KeRT" on Kurt's half of the picture and his own name on the Beast's side as neatly as he could.

When he was finished he held the picture up in front of him, admiring his work, but something was still missing.

Blaine thought for a few minutes and then just as carefully he wrote "Friends Forever" on the top of the page. He hoped Kurt wouldn't mind.

Smiling, he returned the coloring book to the pile against the wall and gathered up everything else to lug back behind the desk. He had just finished returning all of the crayons to the box when Kurt and his dad came back out, Blaine's own father with them.

"Thank you so much for seeing him today, Dr. Anderson. We don't usually need the free clinic, but I just opened up a tire shop and money's been a little tight. Kurt getting a cold wasn't quite in our budget."

"That's completely understandable, Mr. Hummel. That's quite a well-behaved little man you've got there. You should be proud."

Blaine watched as Kurt's dad beamed at the man. "I am, thank you. Enjoy your weekend!"

They headed for the door, but Blaine quickly intercepted them. "Kurt!" he called out, moving directly in front of the boy. "I... umm... I made you this. I hope it's ok!"

Kurt's eyes lit up as he took in the picture. "It's perfect!" he exclaimed. Before Blaine could react, the other boy stepped forward and threw his arms around Blaine's neck. Blaine beamed from over his shoulder, hugging back tight. "Thank you," Kurt added when they finally pulled away.

Blaine didn't know what to say next, but Kurt's dad was watching them with a funny expression on his face and Cooper was glaring daggers at him from behind the desk, so he just said "goodbye," feeling a little sad about losing this friend so soon.

"Goodbye, Blaine," Kurt emphasized his name as he read it off the picture. "I'll keep this forever!"

"Ok," Blaine said, smiling sadly at him one last time before stepping aside so the two could pass.

Blaine watched Kurt and his dad through the glass doors until they were out of sight, then turned back to his grouchy brother with a sigh.

*******

Blaine's mom had made his favorite food – macaroni and cheese – for dinner that night, probably as an I'm sorry for leaving him at the clinic with Cooper all day, Blaine thought. He ate it happily, no longer bitter about that because it meant he got to meet Kurt.

"I made a new friend today!" Blaine shared happily, mostly for his mother because his dad and brother already knew.

"Oh?" Blaine's mother paused her eating and smiled over at her youngest son. "Who was that, dear?"

Blaine was about to answer, but Cooper interrupted.

"It was some poor boy dad was treating," he spat out, turning to glare at Blaine. "I told you to stay away from that kind!"

Blaine tried to kick him under the table, but his legs were too short. Good thing he had a different kind of ammunition. "Oh yeah?" he countered. "What about that girl you were mooning at!"

Cooper colored and looked down at his plate. "That's different," he muttered. "She didn't look poor."

"That's enough, boys!" Blaine's father cut in, his fork clanging loudly against his plate when he dropped it. "Cooper, you know we didn't raise you to look down upon others who are less fortunate than you! We are meant to help them, not berate them."

"This kid had patches on his clothes! Pink patches! Who does that anymore?" Cooper said defensively. "He was clearly a twink, and he gave Blaine a hug!"

"Cooper, language!" Blaine's mother chastised, sounding offended.

"He was a very sweet boy," his father corrected.

"Kurt's my friend!" Blaine shouted.

Cooper rolled his eyes, but no one said anything more. Blaine was fuming. For some reason, his macaroni didn't even taste as good now.

*****

That night, Blaine's mother put him to bed as usual—singing him a song and tucking the blankets around him just right and kissing him on the forehead. She was about to turn out the light and leave the room when Blaine remembered to ask.

"Mom, what's a twink?"

His mother looked shocked and didn't answer, so Blaine quickly tried to fix it. "I don't mean to say a bad word! I just want to know..."

His mother sighed and made her way back over to his bed, settling herself on the edge beside him. "It's ok, Blaine. You're right, it's not a very nice word. It's a bad word for people who are different, and I'd like you never to use it."

"Ok," Blaine said, agreeing easily. He wanted to know more than that, but he didn't like it when his mother was upset. There was one more thing though...

"Mom, can I ask you something else?"

"Of course, dear," she smiled tightly and ran her fingers through his hair. Blaine always liked it when she did that. "One more before bed."

"Do you think it's possible for boys to be pretty?"

His mother froze, her hand stopping abruptly. She looked over at him, looked him up and down like she was trying to figure him out. Blaine suddenly wanted to throw the covers over his head, but this was his mom, so he laid still and waited.

Finally, her expression softened and her hand resumed its patterns. "Yes, Blaine, I suppose it is possible." Her voice still sounded worried, but Blaine was getting sleepy now so it was hard to focus on that.

"Ok. Goodnight, mom."

"Goodnight, Blaine. I love you. Always."

He felt the gentle press of her lips against his skin one more time... and then Blaine was asleep. He dreamed about a castle where he lived with his family, and there were fine clothes covered in the prettiest patches and a boy his age with eyes that were the sky and the sea.

*******

*******

It was an ordinary Friday night at the Hudmel house with the entire family gathered around the table for dinner. Only it wasn't ordinary tonight, because for the past several months Blaine had usually been there with them. Now Blaine was hurt and stuck at home on bed rest and he had to have surgery, and Valentine's Day was coming up and that was all Kurt could think about.

So naturally, he was forcing the entire family to sit through yet another rant about the injustice of everything that Blaine had been through. Misery loves company, and it was probably kinder to his dad and Carole than letting Finn go on and on about his impending underage nuptials with Rachel.

"... and maybe something more would be done about it, I know that Blaine's dad would help if he were here. But no, instead he had to run off on some charity mission to help African people with AIDS. It's great to help and all, don't get me wrong, but it frustrates me that he's never there for his son when it's clear how much Blaine needs him..."

"Blaine's dad is in Africa?" Burt interrupted.

Kurt blinked. "Yeah, dad, I mentioned that before I'm sure. He's part of some mission group that sends doctors over there to help out. He's really big on charity and all that, which is why he's always too busy to meet you guys. Or, you know, spend some time with Blaine."

Burt had an odd expression on his face, and it didn't seem to be in response to Kurt's attitude. "Wait... Dr. Anderson?"

"Yeah, dad, I thought you knew that."

"I did, it just never clicked for me before..."

"What never clicked?"

Burt was smiling oddly now, as if something really clever had just happened. Even Carole looked concerned.

"Honey?" she tried, resting a hand on Burt's shoulder. But he didn't seem to notice.

"Kurt, you know that old scrapbook your mom made, the one with just about every picture you ever drew?"

"Yes..." Kurt drawled. "Dad, you're not making any sense."

Burt grinned at him. "You'll see, buddy. Just go get it!"

"Okay..." but Kurt didn't move, instead turning to Carole, who looked just as confused and shrugged. Finn was still plowing through his meal, clearly paying little attention to the rest of them.

So Kurt got up and went to his room, rooting around in his closet for the box he kept of old keepsakes. There was a time when he went through the box weekly or more, desperate for any kind of connection to his mother, but he hadn't looked through it in years.

He brushed aside the flash of guilt and quickly located the old binder, grabbing it and hurrying back out to the table.

"This?" he held it up for his dad to consider, even though he already knew he'd gone after the right thing.

Burt merely smiled again and reached out to take it from him. Pushing his food back, he opened it on the table in front of him and began leafing through it. Carole watched over his shoulder and Kurt returned to his seat, staring at his father as though he were crazy.

A few moments later, Carole gasped. "Oh!" she exclaimed, a smile blooming on her face. She glanced over at Kurt.

Kurt tried to move closer to see, but his father was already lifting the page out of the protective plastic cover. Wordlessly, he passed it to his son.

"Oh," Kurt said too. In his hands was a simple coloring page, ripped from a book. Or, rather, it was two coloring pages. Bits and pieces of the memory flooded back to Kurt as he traced his fingers over the bright green crayon letters that spelled "BLaIne."

Suddenly, he knew just what to give Blaine to brighten the otherwise gloomy prospect of their first Valentine's Day as a couple.

He hoped that old box of crayons was still in his desk.