i.

Cooper watches the baby sleep quietly. Small, delicate fingers curled inwards, one tiny foot peaking out from the folds of white blanket; wisps of messy brown hair curling across a wrinkled red forehead.

The baby is calm, quiet – sleeping peacefully. Cooper draws in a deep breath.

He wishes his own newborn sibling were as considerate.

“Is that your brother?” asks the woman by his side. She rests against the glass and Cooper notices her watching the newborn in the corner of the nursery. She’s wrapped in pink and snuffling softly – apparently Cooper’s brother is the only baby who feels the need to scream.

He sighs dramatically, “No,” and turns his sights away from the sleeping child.

He points at Blaine; face beat red and a mass of dark curls plastered to his forehead.

“The screaming one is,” he points out.

The woman smiles gently and meets Cooper’s disappointed gaze in understanding.

“I’m sure he’ll settle down. All baby’s do.”

Cooper crinkles his brow in disbelief.

He can remember his mother and father sitting him down one afternoon, carefully explaining how in a few months he’d have a little brother. He’d been so excited; finally, someone to play ball with, someone to go to the park with and play Nintendo and dress up as pirates and ninja turtles.

Cooper looks between his screaming brother and the woman’s sleepy daughter.

Thinks, I’d be happy with a little sister, and turns back to the woman hopefully.

“You can have him, if you want. My mum’s always wanted a little girl.”

--

This is the first time Cooper tries to get rid of his little brother.

It is not the last.

--

ii.

Blaine is two and refuses to walk.

“Blaine, please get up,” instructs his mother, watching the little boy crawl around the living room.

“Blaine, you’re a big boy now. Big boys walk.”

The toddler stops a minute, watches his mother curiously, before continuing to crawl under the coffee table. Cooper snickers, looking up from his homework only to blush and glance down as his mother stares back.

The problem isn’t that that Blaine can’t walk; he’s been doing so since he’d tumbled across the living room at 10 months. The problem, instead, is his blatant refusal to do so.

“Arf arf. Arf arf arf.”

Blaine discovered the existence of puppy dogs two days earlier.

“Blaine, fetch!”

Cooper throws a small plush ball across the living room and watches in delight as the two year old scampers off to catch it.

His mother scowls, “Cooper, really. Don’t encourage him. It’s not funny.”

Cooper thinks it’s hilarious. His parents, however, are one step shy of calling a child psychologist.

“But you like being a puppy dog, don’t you Blaine,” Cooper grins, rubbing his brothers curly head as he appears by his side.

The little boy chirps out a bark in response, giggling happily as Cooper passes him a cookie.

“Good dog.”

“Arf.”

--

“Arf arf. Arf arf arf.”

“Blaine. It was funny two weeks ago. Now it’s not.”

“Arfffffff......”

Cooper glares at the two year old, crawling around the side of his bed to curl up on a discarded jumper.

“Blaine, you’re a little boy, not a little puppy dog.”

Blaine whines in protest, growling as Cooper attempts to tug the jumper from beneath him.

“Blaine.”

“ARF.”

“Blaine! ...Mom! Blaine’s being annoying!”

It’s not often Cooper goes to his parents to complain, but he’s one step shy of sending his brother to the pound. The little boy rubs at his eyes and curls tighter around himself, pouting at Cooper as he tugs at the jumper.

“Fine. You want to be a puppy?”

Blaine’s head perks up.

“Real puppy’s don’t stay in the house all day.”

The toddler crinkles his brow, uncertain.

“Really puppy’s go outside, and go for long, long walks far away from here.”

Blaine stays silent, glancing at Cooper’s closed bedroom door in concern.

“Well, then I guess you’re not a real puppy dog,” snaps Cooper.

Blaine growls, dark eyes blazing defiantly.

Cooper merely glares back before returning to his desk.

The room falls quiet, only the occasional scratch of pencil heard, and Cooper smirks triumphantly.

Minutes later he glances back to his little brother.

Blaine is not there. Instead Cooper’s bedroom door is cracked open.  

A rush of dread pools in his stomach.

“Oh no.”

--

Ten minutes later he finds a sobbing Blaine curled by the slide in the playground two houses away. The tiny boy flings himself into Cooper’s arms, shivering despite the warm afternoon and curling his arms and legs around his big brothers chest.

“No puppy,” he mumbles repetitively, “I’m big boy.”

Cooper bubbles with laughter as his own tears trickle down to his cheek, pressed against Blaine’s curls.  “I’m so sorry Blaine.”

He continues holding Blaine tightly as the little boys sobs subside, finally pulling back to brush the tears from his brothers cheeks. “Home?” the toddler asks, hopefully.

“Yeah buddy, let’s go home.”

--

iii.

“He’s cute,” the girl, Madeleine, chirps, idly twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

Cooper follows the movement closely, scooting sideways on the couch and rests his hand millimetres from her own across the pillow. He grunts in acknowledgment as Madeleine’s affectionate gaze remains on his little brother.

It was Madeleine who suggested they work on their English project at Cooper’s. Apparently her mother has book club and can’t be disturbed lest the wrath of poet’s long forgotten fall upon their uneducated heads. Cooper’s parents, by comparison, both work into the evening, and Madeleine had looked so pretty leant gently against his locker, as she’d asked if they’d have a problem with the two of them being alone all afternoon.

“Not...not at all,” he’d stammered, willing the blush in his cheeks gone. Madeleine had smiled lightly, before turning to skip away. He’d slid against his locker down to the floor, watching her retreat in a daze.

“Hey, Anderson. Still have to pick your little brother up this afternoon?”

Cooper had blanched, snapping up to face his friend Steve as he folded his arms and smirked.

“Shit.”

He’d forgotten about the six-year old.

--

“He’s okay, I guess,” Cooper sighs. Madeleine’s hand inches further from his on the couch. “Shall we continue with our project?”

She ignores him.

Blaine is dressed as Batman. Mostly dressed as Batman. He has a Batman cape tied around his neck and no shirt. Threadbare shorts that would probably offend his mother were she home to see their state, dangle from his tiny waist.

Blaine had insisted on dressing himself when Cooper had growled out a warning to behave on their walk home. At least, Cooper thinks, that explains the Mickey Mouse ears nestle amongst his rambunctious curls.

Now, the little boy is standing on tiptoes on a dining chair, desperately trying to reach the cassette player on the table. “Cooper, will you sing with me and Maddy, please Coop?” He stretches forward, little toes barely touching the chair as he leans across the edge.

Cooper can only watch in horror as the Batman cape tangles around his bare feet, sending Blaine toppling from the chair, crying out in surprise and earning a startled squeak from Madeleine.

“Are you okay?” Madeleine rushes from the couch, swooping Blaine up in her arms and cradling his curly head to her chest, Mickey Mouse ears falling askew. The little boy blinks in surprise, mouth twitching uncertainly before promptly bursting into tears.

Cooper huffs in annoyance. Of course the six year old would be the one tangled in Madeleine’s arms.

No girlfriend of yours is going to stand a chance against me, he grumbles, glaring at his hiccupping little brother.

“Come on Blaine, you’re fine.”

“Am not!”

Cooper sighs.

“Where are you hurt?”

The little boy presents his left arm to Cooper, pointing at his elbow and pouting dramatically.

“Kiss better?”

Madeleine practically coos in adoration.

“If I kiss it better will you go up to your room and play?”

“Yes”

“And not annoy me any more?”

“I wasn’t annoyi-“

“Blaine?”

“...Yes.”

The little boy hangs his head against Madeleine’s chest, the offending arm still outstretched to Cooper. He bends down quickly, ignoring how close it brings him to Madeleine and her hair and her smell, and lightly places a kiss on Blaine’s elbow. He possibly takes a moment to savour the slight wisp of raspberry that he knows doesn’t belong to the six year old, before promptly swinging Blaine up into his arms and marching him upstairs to his own room.

“Stay.”

“I’m not a puppy dog!” Blaine squawks indignantly.

“Good boy.”

Cooper all but slams the door shut.

--

Hours later and he thinks they’ve got a respectable presentation on Mark Twain put together.

Even better is the press of Madeleine’s shoulder against his own as they giggle on the couch. Madeleine’s fingers rest delicately by Cooper’s and if he stretches just a little further he can hook his pinkie snug with hers.

Madeleine’s bright smile greets him and Cooper feels a rush in his chest. Perhaps if he plays his cards right he can ask her to be his girlfriend in time for the dance.

“Cooper?” The front door slams shut and the teenagers jump awkwardly away from each other.  Seconds later his mother appears at the door.

“Is your assignment done?” she asks, smiling softly in greeting at Madeleine.

“Yep. All done mom. Madeleine’s really good at literature,” he boasts.

“I’m sure. Where’s your brother?”

Cooper swallows suddenly.

He’d sent Blaine upstairs at 3:30. It’s now almost 6 o’clock. The little boys been locked in his room for two and a half hours.

“Cooper?”

He bolts from Madeleine’s side, up the stairs.

--

Blaine refuses to talk to him for a week.

Madeleine leaves the Anderson house with wide eyes as Blaine cries into his mother’s arms, glancing quickly at Cooper before offering her apologies to the little boy.

“If I’d known he was locked up there I would have reminded Cooper,” she tells his mother, nodding quickly before running out the door.

Cooper doesn’t ask her to be his girlfriend.

Instead he spends the night of the dance curled up with Blaine watching Aladdin, singing along loudly and giggling with the boy and pressing his face into Blaine’s soft curls, content.

--

iv.

Blaine settles into the role of moody teenager like he was born to play it, locking himself in his room most afternoons to blast loud music through the house and growling facetiously and flushing with discomfort whenever someone tries to speak to him.

Mostly it’s at his father; William Anderson’s insistence that his 13 year old start to grow up and act like man is driving them all a little insane, but Cooper has witnessed sharp remarks made to his mother, her careful suggestions of fixing his hair ‘the way all the girls like it’ sending Blaine into fits and tears on more than one occasion.

Aged Twenty and home for the summer, Cooper had been looking forward to three months relaxing with his little brother.

The young guy he’d left behind last July had been fresh faced and confident; a happy, polite kid who Cooper enjoyed spending time with at the park and by the pool. Blaine had friends, chatted with girls, helped old ladies with their shopping and small children with balloons – hell he’d have scaled trees to save cats if his legs had been longer.

“I don’t want to talk about it so leave me alone!”

Instead he finds himself faced with an angered pre-teen, Blaine’s cheeks flooding red as he stalks into his room and slams the door shut.

Cooper feels a rush of anger from his heart to the tips of his fingers and throws his fist against Blaine’s door, shattering the simmering quiet.

“I don’t know what the hell your problem is Blaine, but you better get over your self real fast because you’ve got no idea about anything. Okay? You’re thirteen Blaine. Thirteen. You’re in middle school. The only problem’s you’ve got are the assessments due next week and whether the cute girl you sit next to in history will notice the giant zit on your-“

Blaine screams, long and high, and so startling that Cooper falls backwards, catching himself against the wall.

“I hate you,” roars the thirteen year old, leaving a shaken Cooper to stare blankly at the door.

“Fine. Hate me,” he mutters.

He turns from Blaine’s room and leaves.

--

Hours later he returns home to find his mother speaking quickly into the phone.

“You’ve not heard from him at all William?”

Cooper’s stomach turns over.

“Mom?”

“If you hear anything call me straight away. I’ve checked with his friends...”

“Mom?”

“...And none of them have heard from him...”

“Mom, where’s Blaine?”

“...I know you think he’s being stupid William but he’s still my little boy!”

Cooper’s not heard his mothers voice crack since the long evening they spent in the emergency room when Blaine was two.

“He wouldn’t just run off William!” she all but yells, stifling a sob against the back of her hand.

Cooper is out the door in seconds.

--

“You need to find a better hiding spot.”

Cooper ignores the curl of anger pooling in his stomach, instead focusing on the small figure hunched against the slide in the park and the slither of relief through his veins at the sight.

The first time Blaine went missing it took Cooper mere minutes to find him curled here. The next it was almost two hours before he remembered the small boy locked in his room.

It’s been 6 hours now since their argument. Perhaps a whole year has passed with Blaine ‘missing’, closing in on himself; turning hard words and grunts against his parents to hide whatever it is that’s eating away at him.

 Cooper leans down until he’s seated against his brother, “You knew I’d find you here,” he realises slowly.

The young boy shrugs, curling into himself.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Something must be wrong. No thirteen year old cultivates this much anger over the course of a year without reason. A fucking big reason, Cooper ponders in dread.

He thinks of all he’s missed in the past year – middle school sucks, sure, but Blaine’s a popular kid, more so than Cooper ever was and he’d survived it. Surely the dull halls of public school haven’t changed so much to produce this change in personality. He reaches blindly for Blaine’s hand to squeeze and startles as the young boy pulls back.

Blaine’s never turned down physical contact in his life.

“Blaine, please?” he pleads gently.

His words, when they come, are whispered delicately against his own arm. Blaine’s pressed his mouth against his skin as if muffling everything might make it less true and Cooper strains to hear the confession.

“I’m think...I think I’m gay.”

Blaine sobs gently, curling his face down into his hands and shaking when Coopers own circle him gently.

“Okay.”

“What?”

“I said okay, Blaine.... Gay, straight...Tyrannosaurus Rex...you’re my brother. And I love you. That’s all that matters.”

“You don’t care?”

Cooper stutters a laugh and presses the trembling boy into his arms. “Of course not, Blaine. So you like guys...what do I care? As long as you’re happy, and safe...and speaking respectfully to mum and I...we just want you to be happy.”

“I’m so scared.”

“I know bud, I know...god you’re too young for all this,” he mutters, “I’m here all summer though...and I’m just phone call away when I’m at college. Are you going to tell mom and dad?”

Blaine shudders gently and shakes his head, leaning back to meet Cooper’s gaze. “Not yet. Maybe before I go back to school. I haven’t told anyone before.”

“Okay. When did you figure it out?”

“New boy in class,” mumbles Blaine, “Thought he was prettier than all the girls.”

He blushes lightly, blinking at his own admission, mouth opening and closing softly.

“I...didn’t...I mean.”

“Why’d you think he was pretty?”

Cooper can remember trying to convince the lady in the hospital to take his little brother for her daughter. Can remember glaring at his parents as Blaine had cried through night after endless night, only to one day turn around and find his brother smiling lovingly at him, drool in the corners of his toothless grin, as the 5 month old cooed in delight.

He thinks this moment is a bit like that one. Realising all that his brother is worth – the universe, a hundred times over – and how he’d do anything to keep this wide-eyed innocence as he flushes at the thought of a boy.

“Just his smile. He had a pretty smile. And kind eyes. And nice hands.”

Cooper snorts indelicately, “I’m sorry...no, please, go on. I just can’t believe you’re a hands guy too...”

“Cooper!” he whines, still smiling.

--

iv.

In the months following Blaine and Kurt’s meeting, Cooper fields roughly four calls a week pertaining to the blue eyed countertenor. At least Cooper thinks he’s blue eyed. Blaine still hasn’t gotten back to him on the exact colour yet.

“Blaine. Buddy. With all due respect. I can’t keep listening to this. I have work to do, okay...let me know if anything actually changes in your relationship.”

“Ohh...okay. Sure. I’ll speak to you soon...or maybe not...”

“Love you buddy!”

Blaine disconnects.

A day later Kurt Hummel pushes through the doors of the senior commons and sings to a bird whose voice has been silenced.

--

“Hi, you’ve reached Cooper. I’m unable to answer the phone right now, so please leave a message after the beep. If you are by chance my brother, which less face it Blaine, is highly likely, please remember the discussion we had last week. I have a job Blaine. An important job. Meaning I don’t actually have 24 hours a day to listen to you chatter about a boy you refuse to ask out. Either grow some balls and ask to suck his or get out of my voicemail you coward...Beep”

--

Message received February 27, 2011 [5:30 pm]

“Kurt sung Blackbird to a dead canary today. I don’t think I have a crush on him...”

Cooper stares at his phone in disbelief, replaying Blaine’s short message over again.

“Fuck.”

--

He rings a few hundred times over the next few days.

Okay, hundred is perhaps over-exaggerating, he ponders. After an awkward conversation with his father over why, exactly, he needed to get onto Blaine and then a promise from his mother that she’d hardly seen the young boy for all the practice he was doing for Regional’s, he’d reasoned that perhaps Blaine was trying to send him his own message.

--

Message received February 27, 2011 [6:48 pm]

“Blaine, bud. I know I pretty much ignored you those last few times you called...and then I definitely ignored you when I didn’t take your call, but you can’t just leave a message like that on my phone and expect me to ignore it! I mean...singing to a dead bird is kind strange...and a little bit freaky...but there’s no need to completely give up on the guy!”

--

Message received February 28, 2011 [4:10 pm]

“Blaine. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Like. More sorry than when I locked you upstairs away from that cute blonde...and when I tried to convince the woman at the hospital to take you. That was...not cool bro. Not at all. I shouldn’t ignore you and your problems, because I promised you’d I’d always be there for you...especially to talk about boys...even if it is the same boy, over and over...and you’re so thick you don’t do anything about it....sorry. Again. Just call me back. Please.”

--

Message received March 1, 2011 [10:14 am]

“Blaine. It’s me again. Cooper. Your brother. And I’m getting worried. Like, what if Aliens have abducted you. And the Alien replacement of you just tells mum and dad you’re going to school and practice and then doesn’t really talk to them, so they don’t notice...but Alien Blaine doesn’t know how to answer a phone, and that’s why I can’t get on to you...in which case leaving this message is useless...but at least let me know if you’ve not been abducted by aliens. Please. And why you don’t think you like Kurt anymore. What’s up with that dude?”

--

Message received March 2, 2011 [5:30 pm]

“Blaine. I’m really worried. It’s been Four days. I love you.”

--

“Hello?”

“Hello...Blaine?”

“Umm, this is Blaine’s phone, Kurt speaking.”

“Kurt!”

“...Yes?”

“It’s Cooper!”

“Oh!”

“...”

“...”

“Is Blaine there?”

“Umm, he’s asleep. We were...practicing for regional’s tomorrow, and well, we’ve been practicing a lot, so he’s a bit tired...and fell asleep.”

“He’s asleep. And you’re there with him...asleep?”

“...Yes...we’re at my house. Umm. Yeah. Sorry. This is getting awkward.”

“Yeah. You could say that.”

“I can wake him for you?”

“No. No. That’s okay. Just wanted to make sure he hadn’t been abducted or anything...”

“By strange men in trench coats?”

“By aliens.”

“Oh. Well, in that case, no. He’s here.”

“Good. So you two are good? He kind of told me about Valentines Day...and the party...and the duet a couple of weeks ago...Listen, Blaine can be an idiot-”

“Cooper?”

“Yeah.”

“I know. And we’re fine. And Blaine has...tried to explain some of his delusional conclusions these past few days. I know sometimes he gets caught up in his own head and forgets to let other people in. Forgets that other people care about him, and want to take care of him. But I’m here now, and I finally think he’s getting that...”

It’s like a rush of fresh air surging through him, this sudden realisation that someone else gets it. Someone else looks out for his brother and wants him to be happy.

“I’m glad he has you then, to look after him.”

“Always.”

There’s a small snuffling down the end of the phone, someone groans slowly and Cooper hears the low rumble as Kurt chuckles.

“Who’s on the phone?” mumbles a sleepy Blaine, clear enough that he must be pressed up against Kurt.

“Your brother,” and Cooper is pleased to note the other boy doesn’t bother to cover the phone.

“Cooper?”

“Yeah buddy.”

“Wasn’t aliens, you idiot.”

“So you admit that you did get all my messages and just chose to ignore me, you bastard!”

“Serves you right.”

“He did look guilty after everyone –“ interjects Kurt, and Cooper hears the tell tale sounds of a scuffle on the other end that dissolves into breathless giggles.

“I kissed him, by the way”

“Blaine!”

“What? That’s the only reason he’s calling. Not to check up on me, but to find out whether I’d finally asked you out.”

“Still. Do you have any subtlety?”

“Apparently not.”

Cooper chuckles, listens to the two boys banter across the phone before speaking over the top of them.

“So...by not a crush you meant?”

Blaine giggles, and Cooper can imagine the blush spreading up his cheeks.

“Bit more than a crush, as it turns out...”

“Oh. Wow. Okay. Good.”

“I move him,” teases Kurt, and Cooper can hear Blaine groan in embarrassment.

“Congratulations! Yeah.... I’ll just...let you two continue being cute.... bye.”

--

i.

“So you’re telling me nobodies seen Blaine since last night.”

Mike swallows quickly, nodding. Cooper glares at him.

“You were supposed to keep an eye on him!”

“When we put him to bed last night...he was there!”

“Guys?”

The pair swivel round to face Tina, peaking her head around the door, “There a problem?”

“We’ve lost Blaine,” gushes Mike.

“Oh my god, shush. If anyone from Kurt’s camp hears you this will be the end!” grumbles Cooper.

Tina darts into the room quickly, pressing the door closed behind her, eyes wide with worry.

“He wouldn’t run off. Would he? I mean...not Blaine. Not to Kurt. Cooper?”

Cooper runs his hand through his hair and groans loudly. Of all the times for Blaine to get cold feet...really?

“Keep my parents occupied. Keep Burt occupied...and do no, I repeat, do not let anyone from Kurt’ side know that Blaine isn’t here yet. Especially Rachel.”

--

Cooper pokes his head around the door and smiles brightly at Burt and Carol.

“I’m just going to steal my wife away...yeah?” he grins, gripping Alice’s arm and tugging her from conversation.

He can feel Burt Hummel’s gaze on his back the entire walk to the car.

--

“Where would he go?” Alice reasons, gripping Cooper’s hand tight as he panics.

“I have no idea. None. There is literally no place here that I can imagine he’d run to...if anything he’d run to New York...which really.... oh god if he’s skipped the state we’re in so much trouble.” Cooper tips his head into his hands, moaning in despair.

Alice rubs his back in comfort. She’s always been good in a crisis.

“It’s been an hour hun. People are going to be arriving soon...I think we need to call Kurt.”

--

“What do you mean you can’t find Kurt,” Cooper grits.

Seconds later he slams the phone shut.

“It would appear Kurt has been missing these past few hours as well. No one from his camp was brave enough to call us lest Blaine dissolve into tears.”

He’s going to kill the both of them. Kill them with his bare hands.

“Well, at least we can assume they’re together...” reasons Alice.

“Or Aliens,” he mumbles.

“Beg pardon?”

“Nothing. I swear if they’re on they’re way to Vegas I’ll kill them.”

“Cooper. Really. Just think babe. Is there anywhere here that Blaine likes to disappear to?”

Cooper pauses, thinks of the toddler with dark curls tumbling down his forehead, thinks of the angry teenager, pushing everyone away and the giddy young man who’d called him up when Kurt had finally gotten round to proposing.

“I’m literally going to kill him.”

--

“Seriously, Blaine, you need to get a new hiding spot.”

Blaine is stretched out on the grass, ankles crossed, with an arm pillowed beneath his head lazily. His bare feet tangle in threads of grass, and he’s dressed in jeans and a simple t-shirt. He blinks in annoyance as he takes his sunglasses off to glare at his brother.

“Took you long enough.” He curls an arm around the body pressed to him,” I told you he’d find us eventually,” he grins, whispering teasingly into Kurt’s ear.

Kurt hums in agreement. “Hi Cooper. Hi Alice.”

“You two planning on making an appearance any time soon?”

“Yeah...just wanted to take a moment...this is our last day as dashing, eligible bachelors...”

“Most people get strippers to celebrate that Blaine.”

“Shut up...we’ll be right behind you, promise.”

Cooper sighs gently, tucks his hands in his pockets and turns back to his wife. Alice is smiling and offers a hand that he takes gratefully. He’s lucky to have her. Lucky to have someone in his life to love and keep him sane.

He watches the two boys...men...as Kurt rolls to prop his head against Blaine’s chest. He mumbles something and Blaine laughs, tangling their legs together as they giggle.

He remembers holding a young Blaine close here. Drying his tears by the slide and promising that all he ever cared about was Blaine’s safety and happiness. The road hasn’t always been happy. It’s definitely not always been safe. The outside world continues to cast a concerned eye on his brother for no real reason, even if things across the country, and in Ohio, are changing continually.

But Blaine’s heart is happy, and Blaine’s heart is safe, as long as Kurt is around.

Cooper can live with that.

“Get lost Cooper,” Blaine yells, beaming, his gaze never once leaving Kurt’s, “I’m getting married in a few hours.”