Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.
Blaine has never felt more exhausted than he does right now. His body feels like it's running on fumes, and he wants nothing more than to collapse into his bed and sleep until next Tuesday. But he knows that as tired as he is, Rachel must want to fall into a coma for a year or so.
At least there is someone who gets to sleep.
The baby boy cocooned in the soft blue blanket on the other side of the glass is sleeping soundly in his bassinet. His tiny pink hands are curled tightly around the blanket's edge, and his small, pink face peaks out.
The feeling in Blaine's chest threatens to burn him alive but not in a painful way. Inside him is the warmth and light of a sun, burning on a fuel that only comes from loving someone so completely it threatens to consume you until there's nothing left. It's like a firework, ready to burst out in a shower of happy, loving sparks—bright and warm. Yes, Blaine loves this little boy, even if he isn't related by blood.
Just as he loves this little boy's mother, too.
"So which one is he?" a voice asks. The warmth Blaine felt a mere moment ago is replaced by ice water in his gut. "No, don't tell me. It's that one. He's got my chin."
"What are you doing here?" Blaine asks, uncrossing his arms and clenching his fists. He glares at the man standing beside him, the one with the audacity to show up today of all days.
Jesse St. James smirked. "Now that's not very friendly. You should be nice to me. I'm a new dad today, after all."
"Like hell you are," Blaine hisses. He steps closer to Jesse. The height difference would be comical in any other situation, but today Blaine isn't laughing. He jabs the other man in the chest. "That baby has nothing to do with you. Nothing. You haven't said one word to Rachel for nine months. Nine months! And now there's a baby, and suddenly you're here, ready to play daddy like it's some role in a musical? Like hell, St. James."
Jesse snorts. "I'm the father, in case you've forgotten."
"You're nothing more than a glorified sperm donor," Blaine spits. "A father would have been there when Rachel first heard its heart beat or when she found out it was going to be a boy. A father would have been there for the cravings and the mood-shifts and the morning sickness. A father sticks around."
The taller man's smile disappears, and Jesse fixes Blaine with a steely gaze. "And what, you think you're going to be the one to step up? A gay man playing house with a woman and the child of another man? What's the kid going to say when both mommy and daddy are bringing home their boyfriends, huh?"
Blaine grits his teeth, fighting the urge to just lay Jesse St. James out on the floor right here. Though he would enjoy it immensely he doubts the nursing staff would find it as appealing.
Suddenly a nurse appears, smiling and rolling Baby Boy Berry in his bassinet. She can obviously feel the tension in the hallway so she keeps the baby close to her. "Mr. Anderson, your wife's about to try breast feeding for the first time. Would you like to come with us?"
Jesse opens his mouth, perhaps to correct the nurse, but Blaine speaks before he can say anything. "I'd love to."
With that Blaine and the nurse move down the hall, leaving St. James standing alone by the nursery window.
