It had been two weeks since Bea gave Kurt and Blaine a scare resulting in a trip to the emergency ward. After several blood tests and an over-night stay the doctor determined that Bea had contracted a blood virus. He prescribed antibiotics which Kurt and Blaine administered three times a day mixed into a small glass of Bea's favourite smoothie – strawberry. To an outsider it would have seemed that Bea was getting right back on track as she was more animated and had returned to being her regular old chatterbox self – much to the chagrin of Kurt and Blaine's ears. She had also returned to daycare where she played with all her friends and was the cheerful four-year old everybody loved. But to her dads, she was not herself. They of course were more invested in her so could easily tell that something was off. She was waking up in the night complaining that her arms and legs hurt and there were days where she didn't want to eat or cooperate with her parents. She had become fussy and irritable. Kurt and Blaine were at their wits' end with worry and frustration.

"Beatrice, I'm not going to tell you again. Please eat your broccoli," Blaine warned.

Bea shook her head and pushed her plate away, "no. I don't like it."

"Fine. Then I will save it and you'll eat it for breakfast tomorrow."

Bea's blue eyes flickered as she folded her little arms across her chest, a habit Blaine knows she got from Kurt. "You're mean, Daddy."

"Beatrice Rose," Kurt piped up. "You will not speak to Daddy that way. Please apologize."

"You're mean too, Papa," she scowled at Kurt, which made his jaw drop.

Blaine had heard enough. He calmly placed his fork down, scooped Bea up out of her chair, and carried her into her bedroom while calling back to Kurt. "Save her broccoli. She'll have it for breakfast."

Kurt listened to his daughter scream at Blaine. He placed his thumb and finger onto the bridge of his nose and sighed. What had gotten into his daughter? She was never one to talk back … and she loved broccoli. Was it just that she was getting older and trying to assert her place within the family dynamic or was something bothering her? He wrapped up her plate of uneaten broccoli and placed it in the fridge. He knew Blaine would actually make her eat it for breakfast – he was strict that way. He was always loving and kind but he refused to raise a spoiled child so since day one he had been the one who was quicker to discipline and Kurt was okay with that. He was just about to start on the dishes when he heard Blaine scream from upstairs.

"KURT!"

Kurt dropped the plates and flew up the stairs. Before he could even reach the bedroom Blaine screamed at him again, "Call 911!"

What? 911? Was Blaine serious? Kurt willed himself to not go into panic mode. "What the hell, Blaine? What happened?" He reached the bedroom and saw that Bea was limp in Blaine's arms. "BLAINE!" He stood frozen in the doorway, unable to move.

Blaine yelled at him again, trying to snap him out of it, "KURT HUMMEL! EITHER YOU SIT WITH HER SO THAT I CAN CALL OR YOU GO CALL BUT IT HAS TO BE RIGHT NOW!"

Kurt was jolted into action. He dug his phone out of his back pocket and dialed 911 as he desperately gasped air into his lungs. He realized he didn't know what happened so he passed the phone to Blaine and sat beside him holding their daughter's limp head in his lap, stroking her hair. His tears were abundant and his body shook violently.

"My daughter," Blaine rambled. "Please help. She just passed out. She's four and she fell to the floor without warning."

Kurt could tell that the operator was instructing Blaine on how to check her breathing and how to check for a pulse. He closed his eyes tight as he tried to not lose it. She's not gonna die, she's not gonna die, she's not gonna die – he chanted to himself.

"She's breathing but I don't know. I can't find her heartbeat," Blaine yelled into the phone. He was crying now too. The operator instructed him on how to start CPR. "Oh god," Blaine cried. "Oh god. Kurt, help me."

Kurt took the phone, put it on speaker and gripped Bea's hand tight as Blaine started CPR led by the operator's voice. He whispered very softly, "Please Beatrice, wake up. Come on, babygirl, we need you to wake up. Please, for Papa. For Daddy." Kurt's entire body was shaking as he tried to push away all the images in his mind. Everything became blurry as he watched Blaine pressing hard and quickly into their little girl's chest. Vivid pictures of when Bea was a baby and being held by her grandpa Burt flooded his brain. Pictures of himself and Blaine kneeling on the living room floor as Bea took her first steps between them. He felt light headed as he suppressed the feeling in his stomach that he knew would lead to him vomiting later. He closed his eyes and prayed to a God he didn't even believe in … and then he heard the sirens.

Beatrice regained her heartbeat in the ambulance. The paramedics worked on her as the loud blare of the sirens deafened everything around them. Kurt and Blaine huddled together in the corner of the ambulance so that the paramedics could work on their little daughter. It didn't take long for Bea's heartbeat to jump into view on the monitor and for it to regulate.

By the time they arrived at the hospital, Kurt and Blaine had their hands linked. They ran in behind the stretcher that carried their still unconscious daughter with the full intention of following her all the way into the emergency room until a nurse stopped them. "You can't go any further. She's in good hands. We will let you know when she's stable."

Kurt tried to push through. "I'm not leaving her."

"Kurt," Blaine grabbed his arm. "Honey, let them go. They need to work on her and you are impeding the process."

The nurse gave Blaine a grateful glance before she retreated into the room. Kurt also looked at Blaine but it was more of a scornful glare than anything. "How can you just stand there and let them take our daughter away?"

"Kurt, honey…"

"Don't Kurt honey me, Blaine. Beatrice almost died…" his breath hitched. He couldn't continue. The word died did him in. Forceful sobs tumbled from his mouth as his entire body began to tremble again.

Blaine caught him just as his knees gave out. "Shhh, she's ok. She's breathing. She has a heartbeat. She's alive. She's going to be fine sweetheart." Blaine's voice was soft and soothing as he rubbed Kurt's back. The truth was that he was terrified – just as scared as Kurt was but he was able to think more rationally than Kurt was. He had to be the strong one for him and for Bea so that is what he would be. He wrapped his arms around his husband and continued to soothe him. "We'll be seeing her in no time, honey."

"We should've just let the broccoli thing go," Kurt cried.

"Yeah."

"Why did she just collapse, Blaine?"

"I don't know. That's what they're trying to figure out. I was telling her that she had been rude and then her eyes fluttered and she fell to the floor. Kurt. I'm so sorry."

Kurt lifted his head. "It's not your fault, Blaine."

"I know but my heart hurts."

"Mine too."

"And not just because of Bea."

"I know."

They sat beside each other in silence but with their hands clasped together. It had been a long time since they held hands. Blaine really couldn't remember the last time. He loved the feeling it gave him – of love … of friendship … of belonging. It reminded him of a time when they had been best friends and so in love. They belonged together. They laughed. They had fun. They held hands. They kissed. They made love. And then it all changed. He knew that the hand holding wouldn't last. Once the doctors told them that Bea would be okay and Kurt felt safe again he would take his hand away and that would be it. Blaine knew but right now his husband's hand was clutched in his and he wasn't going to let it go until Kurt forced him too. He squeezed it just a little tighter and rubbed his thumb over his knuckles.

"Kurt and Blaine Anderson-Hummel?" A voice.

They both stood up with their hands still clutched together. "Yes."

"Are you Beatrice's fathers?"

"Yes. How is she?" Kurt asked.

"I'm Doctor Rolson." He shook both their hands. "Please come with me."

Blaine could feel Kurt's instant anxiety. It radiated from his hand into his. Both men followed Dr. Rolson silently into a small office situated beside triage. Dr. Rolson closed the door and motioned for them to sit down.

Again Kurt asked, "Please Doctor, how is Beatrice?"

"We need to see her," Blaine added. "She's probably so scared."

"She's asleep Mr. Anderson-Hummel. Please sit down and I'll tell you the details," he said with compassion in his eyes.

Kurt and Blaine sat down.

"Okay, I'll just cut to the chase," Dr. Rolson began. "We have stableized her. She is breathing on her own and her heartbeat is regular. She is now resting. We have conducted some preliminary blood tests and we will be conducting further tests in the morning – a C.T. scan, some x-rays, and further bloodwork."

Kurt and Blaine were silent. They didn't ask anything further because they were both terrified of the answer.

Dr. Rolson continued. "I've read her file and understand that she was here two weeks ago. Judging by that, the incident tonight, and by the preliminary blood tests that we've conducted, we have a strong opinion that your daughter has pediatric leukemia."

Kurt stopped breathing.

Blaine's heart stopped.

Dr. Rolson took one look at them and held his hand up. "Listen, gentlemen, we are going to do further testing so that we can get a hold of this and we will do everything in our power to ensure your little girl is comfortable and survives this. The survival rates are much better than they used to be."

Kurt's heart stopped.

Blaine stopped breathing.

The Doctor continued, "We have already called in a pediatric oncologist. She is on her way as we speak."

Kurt's voice was hoarse but direct. "Take us to our daughter." He stood up and felt the contents of his stomach rise. He turned into the garbage can just in time and vomited. Blaine was beside him in an instant. He had to lean against the wall to support his wobbling legs as he rubbed Kurt's back. Both men were broken. Both men had no choice but to lean on each other physically and emotionally. They had just been given some of the worst possible news a parent could ever receive. There was no other option than to stick together – for Bea. And for themselves.

Bea was still asleep. Her dark shoulder-length hair was rustled and cascaded gently on the pillow. Her pale face looked peaceful. Her little body appeared fragile as it was covered with a standard blue hospital gown and a thin cotton blanket. A heart monitor had been placed on her little chest as well as on her index finger. An IV poked out of her hand and was connected to a large bag of clear fluid. Her fathers were seated beside her, one on each side, and both with tears streaming down their faces.

"She looks so small," Blaine whispered.

"And fragile," Kurt added.

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Blaine, what are we going to do?"

"I don't know," he tried his best to stifle back his sobs. "I'm still in shock. I don't have a clue what to do."

"Me either. I'm so scared, Blaine."

"Me too. I guess for now we need to wait for the doctors to tell us the next step. And we need to be strong for her. When she wakes up she'll be confused, scared, and in some pain."

"My poor sweet girl," Kurt closed his eyes to try to ward of the dizzy spells.

"I know, honey."

Kurt took a breath. "I guess we should call our family." He looked down into his lap. "What's left of it."

Blaine stood up gently and shuffled around to the other side of the bed. He placed his hand on Kurt's shoulder and squeezed. "I know this is hard on you, Kurt. I want you to know that despite what you and I are going through I am here for you. Whatever you need, okay?"

Kurt looked up. "You're going through it too, Blaine."

"Yeah. I know. I am terrified for our little girl but I am also concerned about you."

Kurt nodded. "I know. I've always known that. I just …" Kurt's eyes flickered. "It's just hard to breathe, Blaine."

"I know. Do you want me to call Carole?"

"No, you call your mom and Coop. I'll call Carole."

"Okay. I'll go first. You stay with Bea in case she wakes up."

Blaine was on his way to find a quiet spot in which to call his mother when he ran into Dr. Rolson in the hallway. "Mr. Anderson-Hummel, this is Dr. Juneau. She's the oncologist I spoke to you about."

Blaine shook her hand. She was a young woman with short red hair and compassionate green eyes. "It's not the best circumstance but it's nice to meet you," she said.

"Likewise, doctor," Blaine said. "I need to say that my husband and I are extremely scared. We are worried and concerned about our daughter and the more we are kept in the loop, the better it will be for us. My husband especially can get a little anxious so please if we could just keep the communication lines open it would really help."

"I completely understand. We are working now as we speak to come up with a course of action. Once we are able to do more testing we will communicate that action plan with the both of you. In the meantime our goal is to ensure Beatrice remains calm and comfortable so if there is anything you or your husband need please let the nurses know," Dr. Juneau smiled at him.

Blaine nodded. "Is there anything you can tell us? I mean, how bad is it? Are there stages? Oh God, just please tell me she's going to be okay." Blaine placed a shaky hand over his mouth.

Dr. Rolson placed his hand on Blaine's shoulder. "Dr. Juneau and I are doing everything to come up with these answers for you. As soon as we know, you and your husband will know."

"Thank you," Blaine said. "I also want to make it clear that money is of no object. We want Beatrice to have access to the best equipment, the best facilities, the best doctors, and the best care. I don't care what it costs – just bill me."

"Understood, Mr. Anderson-Hummel. Thank you." Dr. Juneau shook his hand again. "Oh, and if you and your husband would like to stay the night just ask the nurses. They'd be happy to set up a bed in Beatrice's room."

Blaine thanked them again and watched the doctors round the corner. He then headed out of the ward to get some fresh air and make the difficult calls to Cooper and his mom.