Author's Note: Hey! Thanks for the follows, favourites, and reviews! I'm so glad you guys like the story! I thought I'd switch things up a bit and write this chapter from Blaine's point of view... Special thanks to my wonderfully awesome Twitter buddy blainerfly for the input and advice!
I hope you all love reading this chapter as much as I loved writing it!
Enjoy!

BLAINE'S POV:

I guess waking up early is a side affect of being a father. Ever since the twins were newborns and up six times a night, I've never been able to sleep past nine o'clock, even on weekends when I don't have to be up to send the kids off to school. I slowly turn my head to look at the alarm clock.

It reads 9 AM, of course.

Lying beside me, if not more on top of me, is Viola. She looks so innocent and precious, just like when she was a baby, fast asleep. God, it kills me when she's upset like she was last night. It's just... It's the worst pain in the world when your baby is hurting and you can't do I thing to stop it, beside console them in the aftermath. My parents weren't the affectionate type when I was a child. Whenever I had a nightmare I was told to 'toughen up' and to stop crying. That was another thing about the Anderson's: they do not cry. Anderson's don't cry.

The Anderson-Hummel family is different, though. Anderson-Hummel's can cry, and they'll always be someone there to give comfort.

Careful not to wake Viola, I climb out of bed and walk out into the kitchen. Usually Sawyer is the first one up in the morning, seated in front of TV watching cartoons and eating Fruit Loops. Not today. Seeing that he's now nearly 11, he's officially in the 'preteen' stage and sleeps in like his teenage brother and sister. He's growing up fast, maybe too fast. They all are. Although it is nice, I must admit, to have a few moments to myself in the morning.

I make myself a cup of coffee and wander out into the living room. I put my legs up on the coffee table, and can't help but notice the picture of all of us, Kurt and the kids and I, sitting on top of it. The picture was taken back when Sawyer was about nine months old. He's sitting on my lap, a huge smile on his face and eyes curiously watching everything, and Kurt is beside me, holding little Viola. Her eyes are open wide, looking absolutely gorgeous and adorable, but shy and frightened, gripping Kurt's arm. And then there's August, in between us, standing proud and looking like a little man with his mischievous grin. That photograph is my favorite of the five of us, because all the kids' personalities are depicted so well: Sawyer: curious and outgoing, Viola: shy and innocent, and August, charming and confident. And then there's me and Kurt, and we're just the proudest parents, and the happiest people, in the whole wide world.

I know Kurt is off living his dream, and I couldn't be happier for him, but home just doesn't feel right without him. I could be selfish and say that I miss him and I want him to come home and be with me (which is true, all the same), but this family needs him. Our kids need both their Dads here. I think poor Viola would've felt a lot better if her Papa were there to help comfort her last night. Kurt and I have always been a team, in parenting and marriage and everything else, and it just doesn't seem right for me to be working alone.

But Kurt is living his dream. He's on Broadway. And the kids are old enough to understand all of that.

Why can't I understand it?

I pick up my phone off the coffee table, and dial Kurt's number.

Ring, ring, ring...

"Hello?" a sleepy Kurt says. I can practically see him now, hardly conscious, and it makes me chuckle.

"Hey honey," I say. "I woke you up?"

"Oh, Blaine," I can here him rub the sleep out of his eyes and sit up in bed. "Everything's okay, right?"

"Everyone's fine here," I tell him. "But your daughter was screaming in the middle of this night last night, poor thing."

"She had a bad dream?" Kurt asks, concerned.

"Yeah," I say. "She was crying her eyes out, sobbing and everything. I haven't seen her that upset in a long time."

"Oh, poor girl!" Kurt's voice is high, of course, as it always does when he's upset or anxious. "Did you get her some warm milk? Or sing to her? Did you sing to her, Blaine? You know, Isn't She Lovely? She would've liked that. And, you didn't leave her alone, did you? Oh my, wait, it wasn't that same dream she had when she was little? If it was we should really take her to a sleep therapist because we're way too old to go through that ordeal again, Blaine. How long ago was that, even? Six, seven years? Oh, gosh Blaine, I should've been there!"

"Kurt," I say, and can't help but chuckle at his concern. "Sweetheart, you need to calm down. She's okay; she's a tough little girl. I sang to her, and I slept in her bed. She wasn't alone, Kurt. She's just fine."

Kurt breathes a sigh of relief. "Okay, good. That's good. You... You did good, honey."

"Thanks," I chuckle to myself.

"You know she called me last night, right?"

I pause for a second. "No, I didn't. What time?"

"Right after the show," Kurt says. "Around 5:45."

"When me and Sawyer were at August's game," I mutter to myself. "She sounded fine when you talked to her?"

"You know, I thought she sounded sad but she said she was fine," Kurt explains. "Andrea came in, when we were talking, and I had to say goodbye kind of quickly. I hope... Oh, she might've been upset about that."

I roll my eyes and can't help but sigh, because that Andrea woman seems to always be intruding. There's been more than a couple times that I've been talking to my husband and Miss Andrea has popped in, and Kurt's dropped me like I'm hot. "I... I didn't really talk too much to her after we got home from the game. It was late. She went to bed pretty early."

"That doesn't really explain the nightmare," Kurt says. "But… Is she awake?"

"Not yet," I tell him. "I'm hoping she'll be able to sleep in. Do you want me to get her to call you?"

"Yeah," he says. "Oh, but not before about six or so. I've got rehearsal and then a meeting with Andrea at three."

I roll my eyes. "Got it."

"How've you been, honey? You sound stressed."

I sigh, and crack a smile at my husband's concern. "I'm just worried about Vi. And I miss you, Kurt. We all miss you."

"I miss you, too, babe," Kurt says. "The boys are good?"

"Yeah, they're doing great. August scored the winning touchdown in his game last night, and Sawyer's busy campaigning for your Tony nomination."

"Awe, Sawyer's a sweetheart," Kurt says, and laughs. "I have no idea where Auggie's athletic ability came from, though!"

"No clue," I chuckle.

Kurt laughs. "Oh, honey, I better let you go. I have to be in rehearsal in an hour."

"Okay," I say.

"Don't sound so sad, Blaine!" Kurt says. "I love you, sweetie."

"Love you too," I tell him. "Have a good day!"

"Will do, babe," Kurt says. "You too!"

I hang up the phone and sigh, glancing down at the family photograph.

God, things sure have changed over the years.