In retrospect, Kurt should have seen this coming. Blaine's been the picture of sweetness and patience all year, holding Kurt and Rachel's hands – often literally – as they waded into the terrifying waters of impending parenthood.
Blaine had pried magazines with article titles like "Top Ten Pregnancy Disasters!" from Kurt's hands and kissed him into silence when he started babbling on about what if the baby is born without an anus Blaine? Given Kurt manicures when he'd bitten his fingernails to the quick, and massages for when he gave himself migraines researching the best brands of organic baby foods. Had cheerfully baby-proofed the house, and then baby-proofed it again after Kurt worried about whether their baby proofing foam was protective enough.
Blaine had even loyally insisted to Rachel that if he weren't 120% gay, and married to Kurt, he would totally still hit that. She was a vision of beauty, he'd declared passionately, glowing! Gorgeous! A goddess!
Kurt had thought he was laying it on awfully thick, but then again, with Rachel there was no such thing. But she was beautiful, and he'd caught her carefully scrapbooking the entire pregnancy so that their baby would know he/she was born out of so much love.
So he jumped in with odes to the thick luxuriousness of her hair and her dazzling baby glow after a sharp kick to the shins under the coffee table. And Blaine had hand-fed Rachel saltines for her morning sickness while Kurt brushed her hair and listened to her sing to their baby.
Blaine had been amazing all year.
Kurt really should have seen the inevitable fall coming from the beginning.
The thought flits through his head as he stares, frozen, as his husband, who's clutching their shrieking daughter and wailing loud enough to almost drown her out.
Something inside Kurt settles down for the first time since Rachel agreed to be their surrogate and all their fluffy cloud castles slammed to earth. He absently recognizes it from when he finally got his dad home from the hospital, and he could take care of his father with his own hands.
In briskly efficient moves he plucks Elizabeth from Blaine's clawing embrace, pops the bottle he'd been warming in the kitchen into her mouth, and settles her into the crook of his arm. Then he kicks Blaine, hard, in the shins.
Blaine breaks off his drawn out wail long enough to gasp out a weak ow and manages to stuff his fist into his mouth to stop himself from starting again. Kurt can see Blaine's teeth sinking into the fleshy part of his thumb. He resignedly doesn't think about all the promises Blaine made about never doing that again.
Blaine watches Lizzie without blinking, his eyes wide and afraid the way one might look at a stampeding rhino instead of a beautiful baby girl.
"Blaine." His voice is as low and soothing as he can make it on three days of no sleep, but Blaine flinches like Kurt's kicked him again anyway "Blaine, honey, what's wrong?"
Blaine whimpers into his fist. He doesn't blink.
Kurt strokes Blaine's bare ankle as lovingly as he can with his foot. How do parents do this? Do moms grow an extra arm for the first few years of parenthood or something?
Blaine mumbles something incoherent.
"Blaine?"
Blaine's voice is a whisper, hoarse with pain, when he finally chokes out, "Oh god Kurt, I love her so much."
Kurt nearly laughs with relief, "I do too Blaine. It's okay. She's beautiful, and perfect, and ours, of course you love her."
"No" Blaine shakes his head furiously, then abruptly nods just as hard before Kurt can so much as raise an eyebrow, "I mean yes. She's perfect. And beautiful. And" His voice breaks. He blinks. He swallows hard and looks at Kurt for the first time since he came back into the room, "ours. But, I didn't – I mean." He looks down at where Kurt's foot is still nuzzling his. He's very quiet for a several minutes, just watching the way Kurt's socked toes are rubbing little circles around his Achilles' heel.
Kurt waits. It's taken him a long time, and a lot of fights, but he's learned how to stay still enough for Blaine to come to him. It doesn't make it any easier every time he has to watch Blaine struggle. He holds Elizabeth a little tighter and wishes he could solve every problem with a cuddle and some warm milk. He hates having to just stand there.
"What if I'm a bad dad?"
It's so soft that for a second, Kurt can pretend he didn't hear it. He can hear the naked fear, the anguish, in Blaine's voice though, so that's not even a little bit of an option. He wants to laugh again, but not from relief. He wishes he could rub his eyes, that he could have had this conversation after a good night's sleep. Or at least a few dozen cups of espresso.
"Blaine." Kurt nudges Blaine's foot until he looks up, "You are the most loving, giving person I know. This baby, our baby is so lucky to have you as a daddy." He smiles self-consciously, because he's not sure what Blaine wants to hear and what he needs to hear, "I think the biggest problem you have to worry about is about not spoiling her rotten. Don't think I haven't noticed the stuffed panda Blaine. Just because it's behind the laundry hamper doesn't make it invisible. That thing's bigger than me!" Kurt can see the corners of Blaine's mouth turn up a little, and plunges ahead blindly, "Your cousins come to you to get their scraped knees kissed instead of their moms. You're like… the pied piper of kids. And puppies too, come to think of it. I think they can sense a kindred spirit in you."
This time Blaine really does smile. It's small, but it's there.
"You're going to be an amazing dad Blaine. I mean hey, we managed to raise Rachel into a real live human being with a smidgen of fashion sense. Babies will be easy after that."
Blaine's smile droops. He rubs his hands together. Kurt wearily wonders how raw they'll be tomorrow. It's been years since he's had to keep antiseptic cream in his bag for this.
"But. What if I hurt her? What if she feels unloved? Or like she has to be a certain way?" Blaine stares at Elizabeth with an aching look, his fingers digging dents into his palm while his eyes drink in her tiny form like a starving man, "I couldn't get her to stop crying Kurt. What if I can never make her happy? What if she hates –"
"Blaine." Kurt says firmly, "She is four days old. The only thing that can make her stop crying is her bottle, which I was warming up." His voice softens slightly, "And Blaine. You are not your father." Blaine flinches. They should have had this conversation months ago. They really need to schedule their breakdowns better. "You'll be there at every concert or play or meet or whatever, probably pointing and cheering and embarrassing her horribly. I know you'll spend hours planning healthy dinners, and pander to her every whim when she's sick." Blaine's eyes widen at the idea of Elizabeth sick. Kurt hurries to his next point.
"You've already got frames for her first finger painting. Frankly, I already know who's going to be her favorite, if only because you have every Disney song memorized and will definitely be a soft touch where toys are concerned." Kurt shushes him gently when Blaine starts to protest that of course Kurt will be her favorite, Kurt is amazing and – "You'll braid her hair every morning, and then I'll have to rebraid it properly while you're tying her teensy tiny shoe laces. You'll dress up as Santa long after she figures out it's you, and make silly voices for bedtime. You'll probably embarrass her terribly in public with your adoration when she's a teenager, but she'll secretly be measuring every boyfriend up to you. And then one day we'll walk her down the aisle together, and you'll let me use your handkerchief because Rachel will have stolen mine. I bet you'll make everyone cry with your speech."
Blaine's eyes are wet, and Kurt can feel tears burning trails down his own face. He can see it all so clearly.
He coughs, his heart stuck firmly in his throat.
"Kurt…" Blaine reaches out to him. Instead, Kurt carefully arranges Elizabeth in his arms. He slides the bottle out of her mouth, slack in sleep.
"If you're really so worried about her not knowing how much you love her, why not start telling her now?" Kurt whispers, pressing the tips of his fingers to Blaine's scruffy cheek for a moment before moving away.
Blaine gingerly sits down on the sofa. Kurt sinks to the floor, resting his head on Blaine's knees.
"I love you. I will always love you. No matter what."
Blaine's voice is so soft that Kurt can almost feel it brushing against his skin.
"Loving Kurt changed my life, but loving you, Lizzie, loving you changed my world. I didn't even know it was possible to love someone this much. I didn't know it was possible to hold you in my arms and look down at you for the first time and just know, know, that I would step in front of a bus for you. In a heartbeat."
Kurt closes his eyes. He remembers the way he'd felt as he held Elizabeth for the first time. He'd started crying, and suddenly understood his father in a way he never had before. It was so much.
"I love you when you wake up every half hour, and I'll love you when you give us both lice and colds and every other bug under the sun. I'll love you when you break something that I love because you weren't paying attention to where you were going. I'll love you when we get into our first fight, and I'll love you even if you say you hate me. I'll love you when you're cruel, and when you're so kind it takes my breath away. I'll love you no matter what you like and whom you love, although if you're a Republican we'll have to promise to just never discuss politics. I'll still love you though."
Kurt huffs out a laugh and rubs his nose against Blaine's pajamas, worn thin from years of washing. He can smell sweat and milk andlaundry detergent, as well as a faint musky Blaine smell. It's a strangely arousing combination, but he's warm and comfortable, and Lizzie's asleep so he just enjoys the slow thrumming under his skin as Blaine's voice surrounds him like a blanket.
I'll love you when you're baby and when you're an old woman because even when you have kids, and even grandkids, you'll always be my baby. Always. I love you. I love you. I love you."
Kurt falls asleep listening to Blaine's whispered love.
CRACKY OMAKE ENDING
Kurt: Yesterday Elizabeth showed an innovative eye towards fashion. She's got a completely unique, fashion forward style that'll just set the world on its head, I know.
Tina: Oh wow!
Rachel: Not to mention, yesterday she composed her first piano concerto, and showed an adventuresome spirit perfect for the stage! As well as an aptitude for extreme sports!
Tina: That's amazing! I guess we all should have guessed that since she's your guys' kid. You must be so proud.
Blaine: She's perfect, and we love her so much (while everyone's sighing over that, he leans over and whispers to Mike) translation: She put Rachel's bra on her head as a hat, and then she tripped and landed on her baby piano