Kurt and Burt were sitting on the back porch, the countertenor playing with his ten month old son on the blanket he had laid out on the ground while Burt sat in the deck chair sipping his beer. It was one of those rare days where Burt had finished early at the garage and Kurt didn't have glee practice so they could spend time together. Blaine would be over soon after he had spent time with his own family who were in town for a few days before they flew off to another work meeting in California.

The countertenor smiled as his son energetically hit at his block, laughing manically as the fell with a crash. Kurt rolled his eyes fondly as he stacked them up again only for Marc to push them over.

“If all else fails, he would do well in the demolition industry,” Burt said nonchalantly as he turned the page of the local paper.

“Yes he has always been good at destroying things, throwing photo frames, breaking vases and pouring bolognaise sauce all over himself,” Kurt replied before leaning over and tickling the little boy, mumbling ‘little monster' in an affectionate tone.

“So any plans for the weekend?” Kurt asked his dad, turning to face him while he shook Marc's plastic play keys.

“Not sure, I was thinking of taking the weekend off work for once. Give Johnny a chance to prove himself as a manager, I might go fishing, it's been a long time since the boat has been on the water,” Burt said thoughtfully, taking another sip of his beverage.

“I think it would be good for you to go fishing again, with your heart attack and now having a grandson you haven't really had much time for yourself.” Burt was about to respond when an ear piercing cry sounded around them. Kurt turned around to see something of pure horror; his son had crawled off the porch and was now lying face down on the concrete slab surrounded by potted plants. Instinct took over him; he rushed down the three steps and picked up his son. There was a cut at his hair line, blood trickling down his face. The baby's screams were vastly different from his usual cries; these were loud, shrieking noises that were searching for any escape from pain.

“Oh my god,” Kurt whispered, he removed the little boy's thin shirt and wrapped it around the wound, trying to slow the blood flow. “Dad I need you to drive us to the hospital, I c-cant right now,” Kurt said teary eyed, his voice betraying him. Burt nodded, a firm on the small of his son's back guiding him through the house and out towards the car. The countertenor held Marc closely to his chest, not caring about the blood that was seeping through his shirt. Kurt opened the passenger door, deciding to forgo the baby seat, knowing that he would be safer in his arms. He tried to soothe him but it was all in vain.

They sped to the hospital, going directly to the emergency room. They received many stares as they entered, some surprised by the noise whiles others looked on sympathetically. Kurt went straight to the desk, Burt trailing behind him.

“I need to see a doctor,” Kurt stumbled through the words, the nurse nodded frantically, leading them to one of the available beds. A doctor came over and assessed him before he looked at the countertenor seriously.

“He needs an MRI to rule out any possible head injuries or bleeding on the brain,” the doctor explained, taking the small child from Kurt's strong arms. The doctor walked away holding the most precious thing to him in the entire world, he saw Marc's confused, scared face screaming for his dad. Kurt felt useless and cried into his father's shoulder.

Blaine was sitting at the dining table with his parent, discussing when cooper would be returning home. The curly haired boy pushed a piece of chicken around on his plate, it was too early for dinner and he wanted to see his son. He had recently learnt his first word and wanted to hear that cute little boy's excited voice say ‘dada' when he saw him. He scooped up a small amount of his salad when his phone rang from his pocket; he pulled it out and saw it was Kurt.

“No phones at the table Blaine,” his father reminded.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, pressing the ignore button and setting it down next to his plate. He looked at it oddly when it began to ring again. “He wouldn't ring again if it wasnt important.”

“Answer it.”

“Hey sweetheart,” Blaine answered, confused when he heard erratic breathing on the other end.

“Blaine, pl-please you need to come to the hospital… s-some.

“Kurt, take a deep breath, you need to calm down,” Blaine told, earning odd looks from his parents.

“Hey Blaine, its Burt. Marc had an accident and Kurt needs you to be here for him.”

“Oh my god is he ok? What happened?”

“I'll explain everything when you get here; I don't want you panicking when you are driving.” Blaine said goodbye and quickly hung up the phone. He apologised to his parents before fleeing the house. He drove quickly, his mind racing with the worse possible scenarios. He knew he should have been with his boyfriend and son sooner, he didn't want to spend time with parents and now his son could be dead for all he knew. No, he couldn't think like that.

Once he arrived, he sprinted to the emergency room in hope of finding his boyfriend. He found Kurt, sobbing into his father's chest his body convulsing with the pure, raw emotion he was experiencing.

“Kurt!” his head snapped up and ran into the strong arms of his boyfriend.

“I-I-I don't know what happened, I took my eyes off him for a second I swear! Then there was blood, I-I-I just didn't know what to do…” Kurt cried, defeated. Blaine rubbed his back in a soothing motion.

“It's ok, he'll be fine.”

Half an hour later all three man were still sitting in the waiting room. Kurt had stopped crying now and had become numb while Blaine just kept his hand on his boyfriend's lower back, the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Hummel?” a nurse called, all three walking up to her quickly and following after her. They saw their son laying in one of the plastic hospital cribs, looking uninterestedly up at the ceiling, a white bandage covering his forehead. The little boy's face lit up when he saw his fathers' faces.

“Daddy!” Kurt picked up Marc and held him tightly to his chest.

“So the tests confirmed that there are no lesions or bleeding on the brain,” the doctor explained. “He did have a pretty nasty cut on his forehead though. Five stitches just below his hair line, you'll need to keep it clean with anti-bacterial solution to avoid infection. In about six weeks' time we can remove them, his scar will fade as he ages. Do you have any questions?” Kurt and Blaine both had an assortment of questions which the doctor happily answered.

They soon left the hospital, Marc never leaving Kurt's arms as he held onto his father like his life depended on it. For everything the little boy had been through, they allowed him to have some ice cream before he fell asleep on the couch, now being held by Blaine who had been just as scared as Kurt.  They sat together as a family watching their son's tiny stomach moving up and down; Thankful that their precious son was ok.