Notes: Um. A few things. Let's pretend that Lima is close enough to travel to OSU in like an hour and half on the train. Let's also pretend that Burt never married Carole. I don't like having too many characters to deal with and I felt like the plot would not have worked out with Finn and Carole in the picture. And before you ask, this is Klaine endgame. How could it not be? Reviews, follows, and favorites are appreciated as always.

Warnings: Mpreg, Sick!Characters, OOC, Possible death!fic, Non-canon

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any recognizable characters.

Break-Even

Burt Hummel tore himself away from the football game playing on the tiny, hospital television when he heard a knock on the door. A grin spread across his tired face when he saw the boy he considered to be a second son standing in the doorway.

"Did you get it?", he asked eagerly.
"Of course I did."
"Then what are you standing around for, you idiot? Hurry up and close the door would ya?", he said waving wildly and urging him inside. Burt immediately pointed the remote at the television and shut it off.

Blaine chuckled at his antics and closed the door to make sure they had privacy. The last thing they needed was a nurse or doctor walking in and catching them. He unzipped his messenger bag and pulled out the paper bag full of greasy and delicious contraband. Burt snatched the bag from his hands and tore into it; pulling out a handful of fries and shoving them into his mouth. He moaned in contentment as the hot, crunchy flavor flooded his senses. It had been way too long. The doctors had him on a strict, "healthy" diet. Bird food was more like it; bland and tasteless and plain awful for an old dog like him.

"You're a godsend kid. What would I do without you?" Burt was on his fourth round of chemotherapy for Stage 3 prostate cancer. Even so, he was adamant about not being treated any differently or altering his lifestyle. He still ran his shop; working on cars well into the late evening against the doctor's orders. He was stubborn like that.

The only reason he even opted for treatment was because of his family. He figured that if he only had a few years or whatever left, he wanted to spend it enjoying himself and the people he loved. Not bent over a toilet vomiting or bed ridden because he's too tired to move or breathe. He didn't want to spend his last days in a revolving door of medicine, doctor's appointments, and hospital stays.

He'd done that with his wife and in the end, she still slipped away when it was her time to go. If he could do it all over again, he would hold her hand and tell her that it was okay not to fight so hard. That they could miss one appointment here and there to stay at home and just cuddle or play with Kurt. Cherishing those moments as best they could. As a family.

Blaine unwrapped his scarf and slid off his coat, folding it neatly on the arm of the chair. He took his usual seat beside Burt's bed.
"How are you feeling?", Blaine asked; concern lacing his voice.
"I'm still dying if that's what you're asking.", Burt mumbled through a mouthful of cheeseburger.
"Don't say that. The doctors think we have a good chance of remission this time. The tests look good."

He snorted at that. "They'll say anything to keep me coming back here. It's all just another paycheck to them." Burt saw the look on Blaine's face and he knew him well enough by now to know that he was about to launch into one of his motivational, 'Don't give up', 'Have courage', speeches and he wasn't in the mood. Not today. So he decided to change the subject.

"Where's Ollie? You said you were going to bring him by today. I miss that kid. He keeps me young." Keeps me fighting.

Blaine and Oliver had lived with him since they came home from the hospital and Blaine's parents disowned him. Imagine his surprise when a devastated Blaine Anderson had shown up on his porch in the middle of the night with bags, a newborn in his arms, and a cab driver waiting for payment by the curb. He'd immediately paid the driver and brought them inside where a tearful Blaine recounted the whole story.

How he and Kurt had tried to make their relationship work, but Kurt was so busy living his new life in New York that Blaine felt left behind and alone. The ignored phone calls, the short, curt conversations, the missed Skype dates. How he figured that Kurt just wasn't invested in their relationship anymore and he didn't have the heart to break it off completely knowing that Blaine was still at home waiting and in love with him.

So one night, he turned to another guy for comfort after being hung up on by Kurt for the hundredth time; making the biggest mistake of his young life. He told Burt about flying to New York to confess what he did and them sleeping together one last time only for Blaine to wake up alone and have Kurt completely cut off all contact with him afterwards.

About how he tried everything he could to get in touch with Kurt after he found out he was pregnant before finally giving up. He'd hidden his pregnancy from everyone until he couldn't anymore and his parents pulled him out of school to finish his senior year at home. They'd arranged for a couple to adopt the baby without consulting Blaine and when he refused to hand the baby over, they left him at the hospital and told him he had a week to come get his things before they threw them all out. So there he was, begging Burt for a place to stay with Oliver and he couldn't say no. Especially when he held the little guy in his arms who was like a carbon copy of his son and his tiny fist wrapped around his finger.

Blaine assured him that the baby was Kurt's and that they could research information on how to get the grandparent equivalent of a paternity test if he wanted. He admitted that he never actually slept with Eli, just fooled around a little. It meant nothing And Kurt had been his first. What he didn't know was that Burt didn't need the extra reassurance. He knew how much his son and Blaine loved each other and that Blaine wasn't the type of person to lie about something like that. He also knew that he would have taken them both in whether Kurt was the father or not.

In the beginning, Burt didn't worry Blaine about telling Kurt. It was hard enough for both of them dealing with a newborn. Blaine was barely 18 and he himself hadn't dealt with a baby in 19 years. They had to go out and buy everything needed for a baby while figuring out how to get Blaine set up at college in the Fall. Burt wasn't letting him give up on his education just because his parents weren't supportive and frankly, a pair of stuck up assholes. They both agreed that Blaine would commute to OSU's performing arts program three times a week and take as many courses online as possible. He would also work reception at the garage on a flexible schedule until he found something better.

When Oliver was nearly three months old and they had settled in fairly well, he finally brought it up. Blaine asked Burt to let him find a way to tell Kurt on his own time. Burt wasn't happy about it at all, but he respected Blaine's wishes. He figured this couldn't possibly stay hidden forever. Finding out that he was a father was something Kurt didn't deserve to be told about over the phone. Blaine and his son needed to hatch it out in person. Face to face, man to man.

Kurt was expected home for Thanksgiving and Christmas in a few months anyway and he would inevitably find out then. Burt didn't count on Kurt not coming home. Not only for the aforementioned holidays, but not at all for the next three years.

Blaine made the decision that it was time for him to move out and try it on his own a few weeks after Oliver's second birthday. Burt told him that he didn't have to go, but Blaine insisted. They still saw each other on the weekends and Ollie often found himself at the garage, sitting in the corner with an assortment of toys, snacks, and an iPad a couple of times during the week when Blaine was picking up extra shifts or going to class.

Blaine's face lit up considerably at the mention of his son and he smiled widely. "He misses his pop too. He had a little cough this morning so I kept him from school today. I promise I'll bring him by tomorrow." Oliver was currently enrolled in a three day program at the daycare so he could have more interaction with other kids his age.

Burt nodded. "You better. Who's watching him if you're sitting around with me shooting the breeze?"
"Um...He's with Sebastian.", Blaine said suddenly looking very uncomfortable and shifting around in his chair.

Burt sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Blaine, relax. Smythe is a decent guy. I still think he's a cocky little s.o.b., but you two are good for each other."

He meant every word he said. He didn't like seeing Blaine still pining after Kurt after all these years and he wanted him to move on and find some happiness. They both had their own lives now and Blaine had given up so much since he found out he was pregnant with Oliver. He deserved this.

"Oh, we're not together. We're just friends.", Blaine insisted.
This time Burt did roll his eyes. He was too old and sick to deal with people living in denial. "Whatever you say son. Have you gotten ahold of Kurt yet?"

Blaine's face fell and he looked down at the floor. "Not yet.", he said apologetically. "I left messages with his personal assistant and his agent. Either they're not telling him or he's ignoring them. I read online that he has a show lined up for Fashion Week this Friday. I'm guessing he's been busy getting ready. You know how he is."

Blaine was ridiculously proud of Kurt's accomplishments even after everything they'd been through. He was living out his dreams and that's all Blaine ever wanted for him. That's why he had encouraged him to leave Lima in the first place. He regularly updated Burt on what was going on with Kurt from what he could find online. It was sad and probably creepy that he was reduced to stalking Facebook and fashion blogs to hear any news about the father of his child.

"Too busy to come see his own father in the hospital?", he huffed; obviously put out. Burt Hummel loved his son more than anything. They'd been all each other had for so many years, but Kurt had morphed into someone he barely knew. Someone who only talked to their father twice a year for five minutes at a time. Elizabeth would probably roll over in her grave if she could see just how much their relationship had deteriorated.

"I'm so sorry Burt.", Blaine started. "This is all my fault. If I hadn't cheated on Kurt then..."
"Stop it.", Burt cut in. "It's not your fault alright? You made one bad choice when you were seventeen years old and you've been living with it ever since. I can't even tell you how many times I screwed up when I was your age. You were both kids. Hell, you still are. You didn't make Kurt abandon all of his friends and family. He did that all on his own. He's an adult.", the older man said firmly.

"I'm going to try Mercedes again. She's still in contact with Rachel. Maybe she can get through to him."
"Yeah, maybe.", Burt replied, but Blaine could tell he wasn't holding out much hope.

Blaine began nervously wringing his hands, "It's just... I'm kinda nervous about him coming home.", he admitted. Nervous was an understatement. He felt sick every time he even thought about facing Kurt after all these years, but he knew the time had come. He couldn't hide anymore and honestly, he didn't want to. "He still doesn't know about Ollie. He already has enough reasons to hate me without finding out that I kept his son from him for three years."

"Then we're in the same boat. If he hates you for hiding it, then he'll hate me just the same."
That statement tore at Blaine's heart. "I shouldn't have asked you to lie for me. He's your family. I don't want to mess that up."

"Hey. You and Oliver are my family too. I only agreed not to tell Kurt because I thought you two would eventually pull your heads out of your asses and fix this. Kurt's mom always used to say it. Took me all these years to realize she was right.", he said in fond remembrance. Burt was always like a different person when he talked about his wife.
"What did she say?"
"That I don't know shit.", he replied with a small smile. "Now. If we're done with this little heart to heart, do you think you could sneak me a soda from the vending machine? A man needs more than tea and water to survive."

Blaine stood up with a small smile, patting his pockets to make sure he had some change. "Sure. What kind?"
"Surprise me.", Burt said with a shrug before turning the game back on and groaning loudly at the score.

When Blaine returned, he immediately dropped the root beer he was holding when he saw Burt lying limply over the edge of the bed vomiting into the pale, green bowl set aside for that specific purpose. His body lurched forward with the force of every wave. Blaine immediately stepped into action. He ran over to the older man and rubbed his back soothingly as Burt coughed harshly.

It was almost routine for him now, checking the bowl for any signs of blood and sighing in relief when he found none. Carefully, he helped Burt lie back against the pillows and fed him small sips of water while waiting for the nurses to come.

Blaine knew he had to do something to get Kurt back home. He didn't know if he could handle this all by himself for much longer. And losing Burt, who was more like a father to him than his own had been, would be devastating. He didn't know if he could make it through that. What would he tell his son? Burt was the only person they had.

It's ironic how he and Kurt used to romanticize death by watching 'Moulin Rouge' over and over and discussing what it would be like if they were the characters. In reality, death was neither fun nor romantic. It was absolutely terrifying.

Kurt leaned back and nuzzled into the crook of the pair of strong arms that had wrapped themselves around him. "What are you still doing up? It's almost two in the morning.", an accented voice purred in his ear as soft lips pressed against the space just behind his ear.

He pulled away slightly and pushed his bangs back. "Still trying to figure out the order for my show. We had two models cancel and it's a complete nightmare.", he grumbled in frustration. Adam placed a hand on the table and leaned over to examine the jumble of sketches, paper clips, and model photographs laid out on the desk in front of them.

"These two?", he asked pointing out the two photos that Kurt had set to the side and not so subtly drawn X's over their eyes and had thumbtacks pierced through their hearts.

Kurt nodded. "Iyana and Noelle. Both of them have red hair. I need the color clash for my spring outfits." Adam chuckled and kissed the pout from his fiance's face.

"Come now. These can't be the only two ginger models left in New York City."
"You'd be surprised. They're on trend this season. Diane Von Furstenberg has at least fifteen on roster for her lineup. Bitch.", he mumbled under his breath. "I was lucky to get these two."

Adam hummed thoughtfully. "How about you find two girls that are willing to dye their hair for the show?", he suggested. "I personally know how desperate some of these girls are. They'll do anything for a break."
Kurt whipped around to face Adam excitedly. "Oh my god! You're a genius. Why didn't I think of that?"

He was soon lost in his work mumbling about fabrics and other things that Adam had no clue about. He was just a dancer. Fashion was Kurt's area. After being rejected from NYADA, he had throw himself into his love for clothes during his Vogue internship and was accepted into Parson's Design School with the help of Isabelle. Now he was starting his own line and at 22, was one of the youngest people to ever show at New York Fashion Week.

"I'll leave you to it then." Adam gingerly kissed the top of his forehead and gripped his shoulder for a second. "Don't stay up too late, yeah?" Kurt hummed noncommittally and shooed him away.

An hour or so later and Kurt was sending out texts and emails to his team giving instructions for the next day. They didn't have much time left until show-day and he wanted them all at the studio at five a.m. He knew they wouldn't be happy about the early call time, but he didn't care. He was only getting two hours of sleep himself. It was crunch time.

He clicked away on his iPhone and inadvertently stumbled across a few texts from his dad asking him to call. He ran a hand over his face and made a mental note to remember to call him as soon as he got a couple of minutes to himself.

Blaine turned the key and let himself into the apartment he was leasing. It wasn't big by any standards, but it had two rooms and enough room for Ollie to run around. Not to mention that it was incredibly affordable. His heart warmed at the sight before him. Sebastian was sprawled out on the floor in a full suit minus the jacket, tie, and shoes with Ollie draped halfway over his torso. Ollie was in nothing but spiderman undies covering his little tush and 'Special Agent Oso' was playing on the television.

Blaine whistled and Sebastian's eyes flew open. He looked over in temporary confusion at Blaine and then at Ollie's sleeping form. "Oh, you're home.", he said stretching.

Sebastian maneuvered Oliver into his arms and struggled to get off the floor without disturbing him. After a few tries, he was successful. Blaine walked over to the two and smoothed the wild curls from Ollie's face and felt his forehead to check for a fever. "How was he?"

"Awesome, as always. He was a little hot earlier so I stripped him and gave him some baby tylenol. I think he'll be fine. He was banging trucks around all afternoon." He handed the sleeping boy over to Blaine. "I gotta run. I have a hot date. If I leave now, my chances of getting a drink thrown in my face for being late decreases by 30%.", Sebastian said while grabbing his jacket.

"You should have told me you had plans. I didn't mean to make you late. I lost track of time at the hospital."
"No worries. I'd rather it be you I was going out with anyway."

Blaine laughed the comment off. The thing about Sebastian was that Blaine never knew when to take him seriously or not. One minute he was talking about planning a future with the three of them and the next he was banging some faceless stranger in his apartment. Sebastian was a great friend, and he probably would make some other guy really happy, but for Blaine he wasn't really boyfriend or husband material.

Sebastian stroked the side of Blaine's face fondly. "I'm serious. You know it's always been you Blaine. Why won't you let me take you out on a real date?"
"We already talked about this. I'm not looking for casual dating. I don't want to bring a string of random strangers in and out of Oliver's life."
"Who said anything about casual? And I'm not a stranger. We've known each other for years and we're already sleeping together. It makes sense."

Blaine huffed in annoyance and shifted Ollie to the other side. "We're not sleeping together Sebastian. That was one time.", he said in reference to the quickie they had not two weeks before.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? What do you call New Year's then? And two months before that on your birthday? And that day when we went to..."
"Okay!", Blaine cut in, scowling at Sebastian's smug smirk. "I get it. And those don't count because I was drunk.", Blaine grumbled and Sebastian saw that he was putting that wall up again. The one he used to shut people out or when he felt like he was being judged.

Sebastian held his hands up in surrender. "Fine. I'm not pushing. I know you're still stuck on Hummel." He spat out Kurt's name with nothing but contempt.

"I am not.", Blaine retorted indignantly although they both knew that was a big, fat lie.
Sebastian gave him a small smile that held a hint of sadness behind it. "Could've fooled me."

Blaine shouldn't have been surprised when Sebastian kissed him, but he was. "Later.", Sebastian called back like nothing had happened while walking into the hallway barefoot; shoes dangling from one hand.

Blaine shook his head and hefted Oliver up to get a better hold on him. Halfway down the hall, sleepy glasz eyes blinked open and stared at him. "Hi daddy.", a small voice whispered, mid yawn.
"Hey buddy.", Blaine cooed. "Did you have good time with uncle Seb today?"

Oliver nodded and laid his head on Blaine's shoulder; rubbing his eyes with his small fist.
"Sleepy daddy. Can we go in the big bed?", he asked meaning Blaine's king sized.
"Yeah.", Blaine agreed, bypassing Oliver's room and going into his own.

Before he even settled his son under the covers, Oliver was already snoring. As soon as his little body hit the soft mattress, he stretched out and raised one arm over his head, thumb in mouth, freckles splattered across his chubby, pale cheeks. It was scary how much he looked like Kurt in that moment. He sighed and padded out of the room to get a snack and maybe a glass of wine. Definitely a glass of wine. Or three.