Neither of You
Disclaimer: I'm not RIB, so I don't own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, I'd be rich and probably not writing fanfiction! This fic is an MPREG fic, but with mpreg!Kurt this time instead of my usual mpreg!Blaine! Yay! Anyway, I own nothing. Oh, and the summary's pretty shitty for right now until I think of something new. Sorry about that.
Warning: This is based on 5x15 Bash, so the trigger warning would be for assault. I don't go into detail about it, but I do mention it (as well as some past incidents) so I thought I'd warn you!
Years ago, Blaine Anderson's worst fear was that his new friend Kurt would get hurt by someone at his school. The boy showed up at Dalton Academy in a particularly terrible excuse for a uniform trying to pass himself off as a new student and Blaine took him under his wing, despite being a little bit younger than the other guy. This intriguing stranger whose name Blaine later learned was Kurt came to the school to spy on the Warblers, but other than that, he was struggling with some serious bullying at his school. Blaine did his best to give some good advice to Kurt, hoping that his new friend wouldn't have to deal with the awful shit he'd dealt with a little over a year before.
Then Kurt transferred and the worry dissipated for the time being.
Up until Kurt decided to transfer back, right back into the lion's den, so to say. Blaine spent weeks worrying about his now-boyfriend and after a summer of deep discussion and some pretty amazing persuasion, he too stepped back into the scary unknown that was public school. Deep down, while he was terrified, Blaine felt the apparent urge to protect, to keep Kurt safe. Because that was all that mattered.
Then Sebastian threw a slushie, Blaine jumped in front of it, and while he was able to protect Kurt that time, he ended up getting injured himself. He'd do it again in a heartbeat if he needed to though.
When it came down to it, the main thing Blaine needed to protect Kurt from was himself. Breaking Kurt's heart was the worst thing Blaine could've ever done and even though they were past it now (Blaine had apologized a million times over and Kurt had forgiven him just as much), it still stung to think about.
Until now those things were the worst incidents Blaine could think of when it came to fearing for Kurt's safety. However tonight took the cake as Blaine was just standing there in a foreign hospital, heart in his throat as he waited for someone, anyone to just come out and say whether or not his fiance was okay after being attacked and left for dead in an alley.
The call he received earlier was like a shot to the heart. Because he wasn't there. He wasn't able to protect Kurt like he always felt he was supposed to. Kurt was hurt and somewhere in that very hospital and all Blaine could do was wait. Sighing, he leaned against the front desk, forehead against his hands as he struggled to steady his breathing. In and out, deep breaths, Blaine. Breathe. "This cannot be happening," he groaned, blinking back the tears in his eyes. He couldn't cry now, not yet. Not when when he didn't know how Kurt was.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mercedes, Sam, Artie, and Rachel hovering in the main section of the waiting room and he knew they were all watching him, wondering if they should come over to check on him or not. He really hoped they'd keep their space; he couldn't handle anyone touching him right now.
"Family of Kurt Hummel?"
His throat tightened as he spun around, fear racing up his spine as he took in the young doctor before him. He could feel his friends crowding around him and he stepped forward slightly, trying his hardest to just put some space between him and them. Yeah, they were Kurt's friends and they loved him, but they just didn't understand. This wasn't some sort of everyday mugging... this was a hate crime. Blaine had been there; he knew what this was like, the fear of the unknown, the questions. Why?
"Is he okay?" He asked the doctor, eyes widening when the man took a look at his chart and then asked him and him alone to follow him down the hall. The rest of the group stayed silent, but Sam patted Blaine's shoulder as he left and while he thought he was going to burst at the contact at first, it was oddly comforting. "What's wrong with him? Is he okay?" He asked again, fingers balling into fists as he tried to peer into the room they were standing outside of.
He listened as the doctor rattled off Kurt's injuries - they were minor, nothing too serious, though Kurt would be in some pain for a few days or more. What really jarred him though was the question: "Mr, Anderson, did you by any chance know that your fiance is pregnant?"
Is. Is pregnant. Not past tense. Still is.
::::::::::
Nine weeks. Kurt was having a baby and he was nine weeks along.
The knot in Blaine's throat tightened as he stepped into the hospital room alone. He asked the doctor to give the news about Kurt's injuries (but not the pregnancy) to his friends and to also ask them to give him space and he'd come and get them when he was done... whenever that was. Biting back a sob, Blaine made his way closer to the bed, tears now falling freely as he took in the damage those piece of shit bigots did to his fiance. Kurt's throat was darkening with purpling bruises, the skin on his knuckles and face was slashed with little cuts. His right eye had quite the shiner on it but Blaine couldn't help but be proud that Kurt fought back as evident by the bruising on his knuckles. Way back when, when some dickwad upperclassmen corned him and his date after the dance, Blaine just curled up in a ball and took it. That's why he took boxing lessons and started the fight club after he transferred to Dalton - because he would never let that happen again... and he was grateful that Kurt didn't do what he did.
Because if he had... if he had given up, their- their baby might be dead. Kurt might be dead.
A breathy gasp erupted from his throat and he dropped into the seat next to the bed, one hand darting out to gently take one of Kurt's. He stroked his thumb over the tiny cuts and bruising along his love's knuckles and then he kissed them, laying his cheek against the cool skin.
"God, Kurt. You scared the hell out of me, you know that right? I get this call that you've been- that you... and then all I could think about was how much I was scared that this was going to happen to you at McKinley. But no, it happens here in New York City. Of all places. New York. God, Kurt." He sucked in a shaky breath and ran his fingers up the length of Kurt's bruised arm. "You're so brave. So, so brave. I love you so much."
His eyes darted to Kurt's flat stomach and he blinked rapidly, more tears slipping from his eyes as he became overwhelmed with fear again. He almost lost him, almost lost them. "Nothing's gonna harm you. Not while I'm around," he quietly sang, standing up to stroke his fingers over the damaged skin of his fiance's face. He brushed them across the cut at the beginning of Kurt's hairline and his voice broke. Despite the ache he felt in his chest as he sang, he continued on, moving through the next verse as he carefully climbed onto the bed beside his fiance, hand cupping Kurt's cheek.
For a moment, he stared at Kurt's resting face, so pale and marred in the dim hospital lighting. How could someone do this? Why? His stomach swirled as he settled down, laying beside Kurt's prone form before he let his hand fall to Kurt's stomach, to the spot where their baby grew. His voice faded into a soft whisper as he closed his eyes and finished singing, palm still resting against Kurt's abdomen, "Nothing can harm you. Not while I'm around."
A/N: Do I plan on continuing this? Umm, maybe? Maybe not? I might write a little piece about Kurt finding out the news because HELLO he's the pregnant one, but I don't know yet. We'll see. What do you guys think? Like, if I wrote another part to this, what would you want to see? Because I have no idea what I'd write after this chapter minus Kurt finding out. That's all I got (too many WIPs, lemme tell ya!)