A/N: I don't even know what this is omfg. I had the idea the other day and I didn't think I could write it but apparently at 11:30 at night when I'm supposed to be sleeping my mind decides that it's time to write an entire goddamn story even though I have to get up super early tomorrow. Oh well.
I'm not sure I like the backstory part (keep in mind I wrote the second half before the first half so the beginning wasn't supposed to turn out like that) but whatever, take it as you will. Title from Miracle by Céline Dion because it's the most adorable song ever and I used to sing it to my cousin when he was a baby. :)
Kurt loves coming home to his little family.
Sometimes it's chaotic: he'll come home to a screaming baby and a husband that's just about tearing his hair out trying to calm her down, empty bottle after empty bottle strewn across the floor and the counter and a horrible stench coming from the overflowing garbage can in the kitchen. Sometimes it takes hours for her to sleep—more than once Kurt's turned up to work drowsy and unresponsive and more than twice he's fallen asleep at his desk despite the ten cups of black coffee he'd had beforehand. No one really reprimands him for it, though, because most of them know the struggles of having a new baby and how nothing could ever prepare you for just how little sleep you actually get.
Other times, though, he'll come home to total silence except for the soft looping menu tune of a too-familiar musical singalong DVD that's been watched too many times and Blaine and their baby asleep together on the couch, her curled up like an adorable tiny frog on the gently rising and falling chest of his equally-adorable husband. He wakes Blaine gently (not before taking a few pictures so show around at work and send to old friends, of course) and helps him put the little girl in her crib before quietly shutting the door and dragging him, still sleep-ruffled and dazed, to their bedroom down the hall all while silently thanking the creators of baby monitors that the devices only work one-way.
Of course Rachel had wanted to be their surrogate—she'd breached the topic over dinner one Thursday night of Blaine's freshman year of college, and it had taken Kurt a full ten minutes of Blaine rubbing and patting his back to stop choking on his vegan stir-fry before he quietly admitted that it was something he'd thought about a lot. He'll never forget the sparkle in Blaine's eye when he'd mentioned that, because although he'd never said it in so many words Kurt knew that Blaine dreamed of a family and it made his heart warm to know that he wanted a family with him.
But then Rachel was caught up in a loop of Broadway show after show once Funny Girl was finished—it turned out that some talent scouts were at a matinée of the show and decided that Rachel was better than anyone they'd discovered in a long time—and she landed roles like Grace Farrell, Hedy LaRue and Kurt's favorite-to-date, Elphaba Thropp. So their plans got put on hold for a while and focused on their studies, marrying in the fall of Blaine's last year of college and, shortly after, finding their own slightly roomier place just outside of Bushwick when Kurt got promoted and Blaine got a part-time job at a small off-Broadway theatre company teaching dance to the younger kids that attended.
Then one day, years after, over coffee and sandwiches at their favorite little café, Rachel brought up the subject again. A few months later and they were in the clinic anxiously awaiting the news, and Kurt vowed that he would never feel happier than in the moment that he heard the words congratulations, you're having a baby.
The pregnancy had gone without a hitch and they'd always both been there for every doctor's appointment and sonogram and Kurt even went to lengths to draw up a healthy-eating chart for Rachel to abide by (despite Blaine's protests of, "She's a vegan, Kurt. How much healthier do you get?"). Almost nine months later Elizabeth Matilda Anderson-Hummel was born in the early hours of the morning, pink and squishy and hysterical and so utterly perfect that Kurt fell in love with her the second the midwife put her in his arms. They stayed with Rachel in the hospital until she and the baby were allowed to go home, thanking her over and over until she threatened to set fire to all Kurt's clothes if she heard those words one more time.
The first month was tough, and the second month was tougher, but they gradually adjusted and fell into a routine and soon enough they both learned that parenthood suited them perfectly; Blaine quit his job and discovered that he loved being a house-husband as much as Kurt loved coming home to one and he didn't even feel a little bit jealous that Blaine looked at their daughter with more adoration than he'd ever looked at anyone in his life.
Kurt comes home early today, considers calling Blaine but decides instead to surprise him—work is full-on and while Kurt loves everything about it, his only regret is how little he actually gets to spend with his family. He picks up some long-stemmed roses from the little florist on the corner on the way home, although it's cheesy and Blaine will probably roll his eyes and fondly tell Kurt that this isn't a 50's movie and to stop spending their money on things they don't need.
He's quiet when he opens the door, just in case they're asleep on the couch again, but the living room is empty and the apartment is dead silent. Kurt frowns for a moment before he realizes they're more than likely taking a nap in the big bed or Blaine's putting her to sleep or something of the sort. He quietly hangs his keys on the hook and sets the flowers down on the dining table, makes his way down the hall and stops when he sees Blaine in Elizabeth's room. He smiles and leans against the door, opens his mouth to whisper hello but it doesn't take him long to realize that something's wrong.
Kurt's heart lurches into his throat and he feels the blood drain from his face when he sees Blaine standing over the crib, white-knuckling the rail and staring down at the little girl inside with more fear in his eyes than Kurt's seen in years. He can barely choke out, "Blaine?" as he crosses the room and stands by his side, bracing himself for the worst before he looks down at their daughter.
A huge, bone-jarring wave of relief washes over him when huge chocolate-brown eyes stare back at him and her tiny mouth morphs into a smile, chubby arms reaching up and hands balling into fists when she sees him. He smiles down at the little girl and reaches into the cot to tap at her little hand, humming softly when she wraps it around his finger and holds on tight. He feels a sudden rush of love and affection for his daughter, same as he always does when he looks at her, but it evaporates when he hears a sniffle from beside him and realizes that Blaine's still there, looking pained as ever.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?"
Blaine looks up, slowly as if he only just realized Kurt was there, and his face crumples for a moment before he takes a deep breath and says, so quietly that Kurt can hardly hear, "I bumped her head."
Kurt blinks, brow furrowing slightly into a crease as he looks down at Eliza again. She's gurgling happily to herself and sucking on Kurt's finger, he realizes, but he still can't figure out why Blaine's so upset.
"You bumped her head?" he repeats, pulls his finger away from his daughter's mouth when she gums down a little too hard against his nail. Blaine's bottom lip trembles and a tear slips down his cheek as he nods, looking back down at her.
"I'm the worst parent in the world," he whispers, and Kurt's heart breaks at the disappointment dripping off his voice.
"Blaine, honey, she's fine," he points out, wraps an arm around Blaine's waist and squeezes his hip lightly. "What happened?"
Blaine takes a deep breath. "We were, um, playing in the living room and I was sitting her up, letting her hold onto my fingers so she didn't fall. I should've had her up against the couch or something—she let go of me and fell back and hit her head on the floor and it was so loud and she cried for so long and I couldn't calm her down and I felt so useless—"
He's almost sobbing now and Kurt clicks his tongue, pulls him into a hug and rubs a hand over his back. Blaine buries his face in Kurt's neck and lets out a shaky cry, holding tight to his shoulders and clutching his hands in his shirt.
"These things happen, Blaine," Kurt says gently, rubbing slow circles into Blaine's back. "You're not a bad parent because she had an accident. Look at her; she's absolutely fine. She's more resilient than you think, you know."
Blaine mumbles something into Kurt's neck that sounds like, "'m still a bad dad," and Kurt huffs, gently pulls away and thumbs at the tears under Blaine's eyes.
"You are not. I bet she won't even remember it tomorrow. Give her a cuddle, go on."
Blaine shakes his head, says, "I'll drop her," which earns an eyeroll from Kurt as he leans down and takes Eliza from her crib. He smiles at her little noise of joy and bundles her into Blaine's arms. "You've been holding her for six and a half months, silly. You'll be fine."
Blaine looks down at the little girl and sighs, rocking her gently like it's an instinct (which, Kurt has noticed, it definitely is). Eliza reaches up for his face and he scrunched his nose up when she grabs at it, giggling when Blaine snuffles against her hand.
"See? Not a problem," Kurt says, can't help his smile as Blaine leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead. Then he looks up at Kurt and smiles.
"I suppose not. Sorry I made such a fuss," he said sheepishly, cooing softly when Eliza gave a big yawn.
"Don't be," Kurt chuckles, steps forward and wraps his arms around his little family. He rests his forehead against Blaine's and laughs when their baby yawns again, eyelids heavy when she blinks and blinks and eventually shuts her eyes and drifts off to sleep.