9 Days.
Blaine wakes up to the sound of his cell phone alarm and a passed out four year old sprawled across his chest. Her cast is heavy and scratching at his thigh. He gently shifts out from under her and replaces himself with a pillow before she can stir awake. He has to get them up and ready so he can drop her off at Wes' and go to the funeral home. The coroner is supposed to be releasing Jake's body either today or tomorrow and he needs to deal with getting Jake from Ohio to New York for the funeral.
Jake's family has a lot in Toledo, but there's no way the Koleson's will allow him to be buried there. Besides, he knows that Jake wouldn't want to be with the family that disowned him when his true family is in New York. He's always considered New York City his only home. It wouldn't be right to have him anywhere else. Besides, Blaine wants Jake close so that he and Olivia can always visit him.
There are burial details to sort out, legal issues to resolve and phone calls to be made. Wes has already agreed to handle all of Jake's affairs and work on making sure Jake's debts are discharged. They'll be getting life insurance, but between medical bills, the funeral and Blaine having to take time off of work now, it's not going to last long. He knows they wouldn't be able to afford Jake's extensive student loans as well. He's grateful for Wes' help. It's going to be hard enough calling all of their friends, he doesn't know if he could handle informing strangers that will only be interested in getting the proper paperwork and not sparing his feelings on top of that.
He looks around their small hotel room trying to remember where he threw his toiletries last night. He'd been so tired that everything was a blur.
The two of them had made it an impressive five hours at home together before it had become too much. Olivia couldn't sleep in her old bed without crying out for her Papa. Blaine couldn't deal with looking around their apartment and seeing Jake everywhere. In the dirty laundry that Jake and promised to do when they got home. The stacks of medical journals on the coffee table. He'd packed them both up and headed to the closest hotel. It was more expensive than he could afford, but it helped them survive the night, which was all that mattered to him.
He knows that they'll have to find a new apartment. Not just because the memories are too much to handle, but also because their rent is too high to manage on a single income. He needs to start looking for a smaller place, but has too much on his mind to worry about that now. For now, hotel rooms on credit cards will have to do.
"Daddy?" Olivia cries out for him as he's in the bathroom showering.
"I'll be out in a minute, Liv," he calls loud enough for her to hear.
He washes the shampoo out of his hair as fast as he can, nervous that she will try to get out of bed. She's been determined to walk on her own, and until they can meet with a doctor here and begin working with a physical therapist, that isn't an option. He shuts off the water and quickly wraps a towel around his waist before walking out of the bathroom to find a pathetic looking little girl.
"What happened?" he says with a soft smile. He hasn't quite been able to laugh yet, but he's starting to learn to smile. She's impossibly tangled in the blankets and her left arm is dangling off the side where a glass of water has fallen and is now soaking her favorite stuffed animal.
"Gator fell," she whines.
Blaine walks around the bed and picks the alligator up off the floor.
"It looks like Gator had a bath, he's all wet."
"I was gonna used the 'mote to reached Gator but water fell," she says with a deep sigh. "I can't played with him now, can I?"
"Not until he dries off," Blaine says, sitting him on the window sill so the sun can help dry him up. "Come on, let's get dressed so you can go to Ashley's."
He moves back to the bathroom to quickly dry off and change into his clothes.
"My tummy is talking," she calls out. When he peaks his head out, she is patting her belly and humming the hungry song that they used to sing together when she was younger.
"Okay, let's get you dressed and ready to go and we can stop and get some food for your hungry tummy," he says.
He's surprised how easily she responds when he sits her up and starts to change her clothes, considering what a disaster they had yesterday morning trying to get ready.
"Daddy," she asks as he is slipping her sparkly pink boots on. They are the only boots big enough to fit over her cast and it's too cold outside to put her in Mary Janes. "Are we going to live here now?" she asks.
"No, of course not," he says. "We've got our own home."
"Yeah," she says, though he can tell she's not entirely convinced.
"Are you ready for breakfast?" he asks, helping put on her My Little Ponies backpack and pulling her into his arms.
"Donalds?" she asks, her face lighting up.
"No, we have to start eating good food again or your body won't be healthy," he explains as he grabs his phone of the nightstand and heads for the door.
"So I won't die?" she asks. The question stops his heart. His eyes begin to swim and he has to take several deep breaths before he can think clearly. It's completely normal for her to be curious about death now. He blinks his eyes a few times, willing the tears away before Olivia can see them and get upset.
"You're not going to die. We just don't want you to be sick so we need to stay healthy, right?"
"I needs to eat veggietables?" she asks.
"You need to eat your vegetables," he says heading out of the hotel and in the direction of one of their favorite diners.
"Okay, you need to eat your veggietables, too. I want you healthy, too."
"It's a deal," he says, kissing her on the cheek.
11 Days.
"Hello?" Blaine answers the house phone a bit out of breath. He had been busy trying to do laundry and find a suitable dress for Olivia to wear to the funeral. He's already going to have to look for a new pair of dress shoes for her later on today, he hopes he doesn't have to go shopping for a new outfit as well. He's exhausted.
"Blaine Anderson?" an unfamiliar voice greets him.
"Yes?" Blaine isn't surprised, he's used to getting telemarketer calls on this line, but he is annoyed that he ran all the way over here just so somebody can try and sell him a new cable plan.
"You should be ashamed of yourself," the woman's voice instantly becomes more hostile.
"Excuse me?" He says, not knowing what else to say. He has a bad feeling in his chest. He doesn't know who this woman is, but he's more concerned about how she managed to get his number. And if she got his number, how many others have as well?
"That poor family is being torn apart because of what you did," she says.
He doesn't know why he doesn't hang up the phone. He knows that this is just another hateful person that he can't change. And quite frankly, after these two weeks, he doesn't want to. What's the point? People are going to say and do whatever they want and there's nothing he can do about it. Martin Peterson was arrested for killing his husband and the man is still refusing to admit that he did anything wrong.
"My husband was murdered," Blaine says with a tired voice, not having the energy to fight back.
"Your husband was a pervert and shouldn't have been allowed around children. He deserved what he got," she says. "And so will you."
"What?" he asks, suddenly worried, but the line goes dead before he gets an answer.
Blaine's heart begins beating fast and he can feel the beginnings of a panic attack. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on his breathing, remembering how Jake used to calm him down and talk him through them. It has the opposite effect, instead serving as a painful reminder of another thing he now has to do alone.
His vision starts to blur and his ears are throbbing with how loud his heart is. He covers his ears, trying to block out the sound, and sinks to the floor. He pulls the blanket off of the couch beside him, curls into a tight ball, and covers himself completely. The darkness always helps him feel safe again. Unfortunately, this is a bad one. He can't stop it or even slow it down. He never can, not without Jake.
He wonders how long it will be before somebody finds him and realizes how crazy he is. How utterly incapable he is at handling life. He wonders how long it will be before he's committed and Olivia is shipped off to live with more capable parents. He hopes social services will at least give her to Rachel. They usually side with birth mothers, right?
Eventually, he manages to calm himself down. It takes repeated deep breaths and a mental replaying of The Wizard of Oz in its entirety, but eventually he's able to crawl out from under the covers. His muscles are stiff and he knows he must have been in that position longer than he realized. The sun has started to set and he wonders how he's managed to lose the entire day.
He was supposed to pick up Olivia from Rachel hours ago. He wonders why she hasn't called, then he notices that the phone has been ringing non-stop since he's hung up. He thought the ringing in his ears had been imagined. One look at the answering machine tells him that there are 134 messages and the house phone continues to ring. He pulls out his cell phone, surprised to see that he only has two voicemails and five text messages. Strange. Nobody calls the house phone, so why won't it stop ringing when his cell is silent?
Too tired to deal with people, he walks over to the phone and unplugs it from the wall. Anyone that he wants to talk to knows to call his cell phone. The sudden silence is heavenly. He wants nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep for the next week, but he can't sleep in Jake's bed and there's still too much to do before he can go back to the hotel.
He's now wasted the entire day. He's got to get clothes for Olivia and himself to wear tomorrow. He needs to finish the laundry and repack their overnight bags. He needs to pick Olivia up from Rachel's...
Olivia. He needs to make sure that she's okay.
"Hey Dad," Rachel answers brightly when he calls her. "We're just sitting down to tea at Alice's Tea Cup. Did you have a productive day?"
"I um... yeah," he says, absentmindedly. "I'm sorry, I know I told you I would get her by 3."
"It's not a problem," she says. "I figured when you didn't respond to my text earlier that you needed some time. Is everything alright?"
"I think so, just... a lot going on," Blaine says, still feeling like he's in a fog. He knows it will be like this for the rest of the day and realizes any hope of being productive has gone out the window.
"Well we're going to be here at least another hour and a half. I've got to work in a bit, but Mitch will be home if you need more time?" She asks.
"No, no, I'll come get her," Blaine says. He's put Rachel out enough. He knows that she loves babysitting and would gladly take her, but he doesn't want to take advantage of that. Besides, he misses his baby girl. It's too quiet without her around and he clearly can't be left alone with his thoughts.
"Which one are you at?" Blaine asks, debating if it would be too desperate to go and get Olivia right now.
"The one on 73rd. I can drop her off when we're done, it's not a problem."
"I'll come and get her, she's going to have to go shoe shopping. She doesn't have any dress shoes that will fit," Blaine says.
"I doubt anybody's going to care about what shoes she's wearing. You should stay home and rest," Rachel says in that voice that means she can't be swayed.
"I don't want people to think I can't dress my child," he says, irritably.
"If it's going to bother you, I'll pick up a pair of black Mary Janes tomorrow morning," she says with an air of finality.
"Fine just..."
Blaine doesn't know what he had been about to say. Any ability to form coherent speech leaves him as he takes a look outside of his apartment and sees the crowd of people. There are news vans lining the street. A group of people stand with hateful signs damning both Jake and himself. An even larger group of people stand holding hands and candles. Now that he sees it, he doesn't know how he hasn't noticed it before. While his neighborhood can never be considered quiet, he still rarely hears more than the sounds of traffic, loud bass from next door and occasional screams from the kids playing soccer in the street. This is a circus.
"Blaine? Hello? Did I lose you?" Rachel calls out to him.
"Don't bring her here," he says, his voice quiet.
"What's going on?" she asks.
"They found out where I live," he says. Now would be a good time for him to panic, but he can't bring himself to feel much of anything after the episode earlier. He feels disconnected from his body. He feels disconnected from everything, like his life is happening around him, but he's just watching from the sideline, unable to say or do anything.
"Oh my God, do you need me to come and get you?"
"No, just... can you take Olivia to your place? I don't want her outside. I'll figure something out and get her later," Blaine says, sounding much more in control than he feels.
"Yeah, no problem."
"Rachel—" Blaine says, not knowing how to voice the fear that is beginning to make its way through his body.
"I'll watch out for her. I won't let anything happen. Just take care of yourself. I can call Wes if you need me to?"
"No, I'll be fine. Give Liv a big hug and kiss for me and tell her I'll be by later to get her," he says.
The two of them say their goodbyes and hang up. Blaine doesn't know where to go from here. He can't leave his apartment. Not with so many people waiting for him outside. But he can't stay here either. He can't stay here, surrounded by all the memories he's shared with Jake while outside people are both celebrating and mourning his death. How has this become his life now?
Blaine looks back down at his phone, wondering who he can call to get out of this mess. The police are his first option. But if the police come, there is going to be more of a commotion than there needs to be. He doesn't want to know what kind of headlines they'll make up when they witness him being brought out by the police.
Jane Miller's name comes to mind. Her number is still burning a hole in his pocket. She had told him to call her with anything he needed. But she is all the way back in Ohio. He doubts there is much she can do.
Blaine doesn't feel like any of this is real. His life is boring. He's a school teacher. The most scandalous thing he's ever done is fooled around with his boyfriend at the Met. He's not a celebrity. He's nothing special. Why is everybody suddenly so Goddamn interested in him? He just wants some peace and quiet away from everything so he can heal with what's left of his family.
To stall for time, he checks his cell messages. There are two texts from Rachel letting him know that Olivia is fine and she's happy to keep her as long as Blaine needs. There's a voicemail from his mother asking if he's alright because CNN has a live feed of his apartment building. There are two texts from Cooper demanding that he call home immediately. There's another from Kurt asking if he's alright. Kurt's also left a voicemail.
"Hey," Kurt says. His voice is slightly higher than usual and he sounds out of breath. "I'm not going to bombard you with phone calls because I'm sure you're getting enough as it is. But please call me when you get a second. I'm worried about you. I've got a friend working on getting it taken down, but it could be awhile and I'm afraid that the damage might already be done. Just... call me and I'll do whatever I can to help you. I just want to know that you're okay."
Blaine doesn't know what it is, or why he needs it taken down, but he's sure that it's the reason for all the chaos outside of his apartment. A part of him honestly doesn't want to know. Whatever it is, it can't be good. Isn't ignorance supposed to be bliss?
As much as he wants to ignore this problem, he can't ignore hundreds of people surrounding his building. He can't ignore the fact that he's not safe. Ultimately, it's why he picks up the phone and calls Kurt. While he knows he shouldn't rely on Kurt to save him from this mess, he also knows that Kurt will. Because Kurt is in a position that he can. And he wouldn't have offered help if he didn't intend to follow through. That's one thing Blaine can count on, at least.
"I'm so glad you called," Kurt says. He sounds exhausted.
"I don't know how this happened," Blaine says, defeated.
"A couple members of Westboro Baptist Church got a hold of your address and phone number and Tweeted it a few hours ago. Twitter has since taken it down and has been deleting any others that get posted, but..."
He can hear everything Kurt is saying and a part of him realizes that he must be speaking English because the words all sound familiar... but he doesn't understand them.
"Tell me you aren't home right now," Kurt asks, breaking him from his haze.
"I can't leave!" Blaine yells frustrated.
"Alright, okay, just... it'll be alright. We'll figure something out," Kurt says in a reassuring voice. "I've got some of my friends working on keeping your name off of the social networking sites and my lawyer is looking into what can be done about Westboro Church. Though, I'm sorry to say, I don't know if we'll be able to stop them picketing Wednesday. But I'm doing everything I can, please trust that I'm not going to let them do this to you."
"Kurt, you don't have to—"
"Of course I have to!" Kurt snaps at him.
The sudden tone change surprises Blaine and he soon finds himself crying apologies. He hasn't been yelled at like that, not since the attack and it sets something off inside of him. Instantly he feels backed into a corner. He's submissive and willing to do whatever it takes if it means that it will just stop. He curls up on the couch and tries to make himself as small as possible.
"Stop, please, you don't have to be sorry," Kurt says, sounding ashamed. "I'm the one that should be sorry. I shouldn't have yelled like that. Are you alright?"
Blaine nods, though he realizes Kurt can't see him. He can't seem to make his lips say anything but sorry. He's like a broken record. He can hear himself doing it, but can't make himself stop.
"God, Blaine, please..." Kurt says, sounding near tears himself. "I'm sending a car to come and get you, alright? My friend Samantha is on her way right now."
"You," Blaine says and suddenly that's the only word he can form.
"I want to, but with the media, I don't think it would be a good idea. Just trust me, Sam is a good friend of mine. She'll pick you up and I'll meet you anywhere you want to go."
Kurt stays on the line with him for a long time, whispering reassurances every so often, but mostly just listening to Blaine's quiet cries and soft mutterings. He stays on the line for the fifty minutes it takes Samantha to arrive and make her way to his apartment. He stays on the line while a man–Kurt says his name is Greg and that he works security for the Burtka-Harris family—informs him that he needs to stay close and keep walking. He stays on the line as Blaine makes his way from the apartment and is pulled at and grabbed until Greg eventually punches somebody out and shoves Blaine into the car. And he even stays on the line as Blaine endures a painful flashback to the attack.
All in all, Kurt puts up with a surprising amount during the two hours he's on the line with Blaine.
"Oh my God, I am so sorry," Kurt says, walking up to him the second Blaine steps through the elevator doors and into Kurt's penthouse apartment. The driver had asked him if there was anywhere he wanted to go, but he had been incapable of speech at the time, so they had simply taken him here. Now that Blaine's arrived, he just wants to leave. Everything about being here feels awkward and wrong.
"Olivia," he says suddenly, ignoring Kurt's outstretched arms for him. "I need to get Olivia."
"Okay," Kurt says, nodding slowly and taking tentative steps towards him like he's some bunny that will get startled with any sudden movements. "We can go get her."
"I need to get her," Blaine repeats, backing himself into the wall as far as he can.
"I'll call the car, I'm sure it can't have gotten far," Kurt says.
When Blaine doesn't respond, Kurt just sighs and picks up the phone to call the driver.
Blaine sets his head against the wall and closes his eyes, taking several deep breaths. Today has turned out to be much more exciting than he had planned and he can't shake the anxious feeling.
"They'll be here in five minutes," Kurt says, hanging up the phone and setting it back down on his granite counter tops. If Blaine was more coherent, he would take the time to admire Kurt's impressive home, but it's beyond him at the moment.
"Blaine," Kurt starts and refuses to continue until Blaine opens his eyes to look at him. "I get that you might not be comfortable here. I know that you're dealing with enough without having to sort the awkwardness between us out. I have two extra rooms and the building has plenty of security and privacy, but I'm more than happy to help find you a place to stay somewhere else. I hope you know that I'm going to do everything I can to help you. I'm fortunate enough to be in a position where I can help and I hope you'll let me."
"I just can't—" Blaine says, covering his face with his hands and trying to rub some of the day away. "I can't think until I can see her and know she's alright. I'm sorry."
"Is there somebody you'd rather I called?" Kurt asks.
Blaine snorts. "There's a lot of people I'd rather you called. One in particular," he says bitterly, thinking of his husband and how much better he would feel if he could just fall into Jake's arms.
Kurt doesn't respond to the catty dig, which is Blaine's first hint that maybe Kurt has changed over the years. Without Kurt responding back and goading him into a fight, Blaine can't help but feel guilty for the comment. It's not Kurt's fault that Blaine's weak and can't get through a tragedy on his own. Blaine is the one who broke down and called Kurt from the hospital after years of silence. Blaine is the one that called Kurt tonight. He can't be mad at him for helping when Blaine asked him for help.
"No, there's nobody else," Blaine admits in barely a whisper. "Jake always handled the... but now he's... I just don't want anyone else..."
"Okay," Kurt says. "Then let's get Olivia and find a place to sleep, then we can figure everything else out in the morning."
Day 12
Rachel is less than impressed when she finds out that Blaine had picked Olivia up with Kurt the night before. She's downright livid when she finds out that they've spent the night in his ex-boyfriends apartment. She isn't remotely soothed to find out that both Olivia and Blaine shared a guest bedroom on the other end of the apartment from Kurt. She tries to guilt him into leaving and coming to stay with her and it almost works until Blaine remembers that Kurt was up until very early this morning talking to various contacts on Blaine's behalf. By the time Blaine woke up, Kurt had secured him a spokesperson, a temporary bodyguard and a promise from People Magazine and CNN that they won't run Blaine or Olivia's name in any of their reports.
"There's a menu on the counter if you're hungry," Kurt says as Blaine tip-toes out of his room after his morning shower. Miraculously, Olivia is still sleeping and Blaine knows better than to wake her. She's going to need all the rest she can get to survive the wake today.
"I'll wait for Liv to get up," Blaine says, walking into the living room and standing awkwardly. There are several chairs around the room, but they all look fancy enough that Blaine's not sure if he's supposed to sit on them or not. And he doesn't know if he should sit on the couch next to Kurt. He's tucked into the corner with his laptop at his feet, iPad in his lap and fingers texting away rapidly on his phone. So Blaine just continues to stand there.
"I'm sorry, I'm just trying to finish this scene and Sam's still texting me updates on TwitterGate and I wanted to research this new act they're proposing for ha... no, no. I'm sorry," Kurt says. He shuts his laptop and moves everything to the coffee table, making room for Blaine. When he's finished, he gestures for Blaine to sit down next to him.
"I see you're still busy as ever," Blaine says, taking a seat on the other side of the couch and pulling his legs up to his chest so he can rest his chin on his knees.
Kurt opens his mouth like he's about to defend himself, before he closes it again and shrugs guiltily.
"I'm sorry, I know you have a lot of things to do," Blaine says.
"I wouldn't have offered to help if I didn't want to," Kurt says.
"I know, but I just want you to know that I understand the sacrifice you must be making to help us and I appreciate it."
"Can we just skip this part?" Kurt asks, pulling his own knees up and wrapping his arms around them. "Can we not do this thing where you feel guilty for needing my help and I assure you that it's completely fine. Can we just skip to the part where we're Kurt and Blaine again and it's understood that we'll always be here for each other?"
"I'm willing to ignore the fact that we both know exactly why this is awkward and pretend that we've always been there for each other because I don't think I can handle having that conversation right now. But I hope you realize none of that is going to magically go away," Blaine says.
The two of them sit in silence for several minutes. Blaine can see Kurt itching to grab his phone so that he'll have something to do with his hands, but he refrains. Blaine wants to tell him that it's alright. That he'll understand if Kurt has work to finish, but it's not his job to tell Kurt what to do. They aren't together. They haven't been so much as acquaintances in a long time.
"How did you sleep?" Kurt asks him, obviously trying to fill the silence.
Blaine shrugs. He hadn't slept well at all. He tossed and turned all night and every time he would fall asleep, he would be woken up by Olivia kicking him in the shin. He might have gotten more rest if he put Olivia in the second guest bedroom, but neither of them has been able to sleep without the other since the attack and he didn't feel like trying again on their first night in an unfamiliar home.
"I hope the bed wasn't too uncomfortable for you?"
"The bed's great," Blaine says, not elaborating any further. He's never been one to share his problems, not without a lot of prying.
"Right," Kurt says, nodding his head and biting his lip nervously.
Blaine can see him wanting to press the issue more, but he never does. He wonders if it's always going to be this awkward between the two of them or if they just have to get used to being around each other again. They've never done this well—just being friends. Even before, when they had just met, there had always been something between them. And after the breakup, they couldn't manage more than angry sex or drunken make outs in dark bars. And ever since Jake came along, Blaine just...
Well, he just hopes it's not always like this. He hopes that they can learn to be around each other again, because the other option just makes his head and heart hurt in ways he doesn't want to think about.
"So how long do you have to wear that thing?" Kurt asks, watching Blaine scratch at the skin around his cast. The cast is so heavy and big and makes his skin itch like no other. He just wants to take a saw to it and get it off but he knows he'll get so much shit if he does.
"Eight weeks," he says with a deep sigh.
"I'm sorry," Kurt says.
"Why?" Blaine says with a bitter snort. "I got off easy."
They sit in silence again. Kurt stubbornly refusing to check his phone, even though it's gone off with at least five different texts. Blaine staring blankly out the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the Hudson River lost in his thoughts.
Before too long, they are both startled by the sounds of Olivia screaming. Blaine is on his feet and at her bedside in the blink of an eye. He sits on the bed and gently pulls her into his arms, whispering soothing words in her ear and rubbing her back.
"The bad man," she cries into his shoulder, but the rest of what she was going to say is cut off as she begins gagging. He pulls over a garbage can just in case and tries to remind her to breathe. She gets like this sometimes, so upset that she makes herself sick. Knowing that she's going to be alright doesn't make the pang in his heart any easier to deal with and soon he's fighting back his own tears.
"Shh, it's alright. The bad man is in jail, he can't hurt us anymore," Blaine says, running his hands through her hair in the way that she likes.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," she whispers, pulling herself completely into his lap. She grabs onto his cast with both of her small hands and rubs over it.
"You don't have anything to be sorry for, Littlebit," he reassures her.
"I was bad at G'ama's. That's why we wented to the park," she says, eyes trained on his cast, refusing to look anywhere else.
"You know what happened to your Papa had nothing to do with you, right?" he asks, hating the fact that he has to have this conversation at all.
"Yeah," she says with a sigh and he knows that she doesn't believe that.
Blaine is going to have to set her up with a therapist. He knows that the issues Olivia is going to have with the attack are beyond what he will be able to fix on his own. He's got enough of Jake's co-workers programmed into his phone. It shouldn't be hard to find somebody that specializes in cases like this. But he can't bring himself to make that phone call yet. Anyone he calls is going to want to talk about him, and he can't handle being analyzed right now. Not while he's feeling crazier than he has in a long time.
"How about we get some breakfast and you can decorate my cast for me, alright?" Blaine says, wiping the tears from his eyes on the end of his sleeve.
"I can decorates it?" she asks, her voice is small and raspy from the crying, but it's curious and he knows that he's found their distraction for the morning.
"Yep, you can draw whatever you want on it," he says.
Blaine looks up to see Kurt leaning against the doorframe and watching them with an unreadable expression. Blaine looks back down at Olivia, who is now doodling designs with her finger onto the white plaster. There's a few stray tears falling down her face, but she's stopped crying for the most part.
"Can I draws a yunsacorn?" she asks, looking at him with big hopeful eyes.
"Yep," he says with a shaky smile.
"Can I draws a big, green monsser?"
"You can draw whatever you want," he says.
He pulls her closer to him and buries his nose into her hair. It still smells like strawberries from her bath yesterday and the smell comforts him. While they'd been in Ohio, she had been using generic travel shampoos. But since being back home, they've started using her special children's shampoo. The smell makes him feel safe and home in a way not much has been able to.
It's the shampoo that Jake and Blaine had spent thirty minutes fretting over one afternoon in Walgreens the day Olivia came home from preschool and declared herself too old for Johnson's and Johnson's baby shampoo. Jake had been reluctant to make the switch, claiming it meant she was growing up. Blaine had been far too concerned about how the choice between grape, strawberry, or apple could affect her. Eventually—and not before an old man had told them it didn't matter what shampoo they used their child was destined to be a mess just like every other kid—they'd purchased her the shampoo and have been using it ever since. Blaine had even caught Jake smelling it the first night that Olivia slept over at Rachel's without them.
"I'll draw a daddy and a papa," she says, pulling away from him and trying to shimmy out of his hold.
"That would be nice," he says.
"I think we're ready for breakfast," Blaine says to Kurt, pulling Liv back into his arms and standing up.
"Of course," Kurt says. There's a hitch in his voice. It sounds like Kurt's holding back tears, but Blaine figures he must be imagining it. It's been a long night and Kurt's probably just tired. He turns away and walks back out into the main room before Blaine can question it any further.
"What would you like?" Kurt asks when they all reach the kitchen. His voice is completely back to normal at this point and Blaine realizes that it had probably been nothing. "They have a brioche French toast that's delicious. I've only had it once or twice, because it's loaded with calories, but it's worth it."
"We should probably stick to something simple. She's only four," Blaine says with a small smirk.
"Right, of course," Kurt says, shaking his head. "Sorry, I'm not used to having kids around. Unless you count the child actors that we get on the show, but I certainly hope they aren't representative of all children, because by God, if that's the case I don't know why people have kids."
He's rambling, which Blaine remembers means he's probably feeling uncomfortable. He wants to say something to make him relax, but he doesn't know what.
"What do you want for breakfast?" Blaine asks Olivia. She shakes her head violently and leans into him, though her eyes won't leave Kurt.
"Hey, it's okay. It's just Kurt. You met him yesterday," he says, running a hand through her hair. She shakes her head again and latches onto his shirt with a vice-like grip.
"Sorry, she doesn't like strangers," Blaine explains before sitting down at one of the island stools and letting her sit on his lap. "It's alright, you can trust Kurt. He's a friend of Daddy's," he whispers into her ear so Kurt can't hear.
It's strange to think that Kurt and Olivia have never met. For the longest time, Kurt had been one of the most important people in his life, and now, Olivia is the most important person in his life. He hopes that she'll warm up to Kurt. He's a little bit embarrassed about her reaction. He hopes Kurt doesn't take it personally. He's been so nice to open his home up to them. He knows Olivia will like him once she gets to know him, it just takes awhile.
"What do you want for breakfast?" Blaine asks again.
"Cinmon," she whispers into his ear, shyly.
"Cinnamon? I don't think they have Cinnamon buns, babe. How about eggs?" he asks.
She shakes her head and glare at him. "Cinmon," she says, more loudly this time.
"It's alright," Kurt says. "I'll call down. I'm sure the chef will make it for me if I ask, we used to... he's a friend of mine."
Blaine wants to smirk at the way Kurt is suddenly blushing, but he doesn't have the energy.
"That'd be great. If not, she'll eat plain scrambled eggs. You don't need to make a fuss," he says.
"What can I get for you?" Kurt asks.
"Just a coffee," he says. He doesn't think his stomach can handle much more than that. Not today, when he has to deal with seeing all of their friends and family.
"You should eat something," Kurt says, giving him a knowing look.
"I'm not hungry," he says, fixing Kurt with a hard look. It's been a long time since Kurt had any right to tell him what to do. And while he's been gracious enough to let them stay in his home, it doesn't mean that Blaine is about to start following orders. He is a grown man and can make his own choices.
"Fine," he responds, though he doesn't look happy about it. "We can always stop again on our way later if you change your mind."
"So you're coming to the wake?" Blaine asks, surprised. He had assumed Kurt would be too busy with work.
"Where else would I be?" Kurt asks, giving him a confused look.
Blaine wants to remind him that there are plenty of other places he could be. Blaine should inform him that he's probably better off not going. He knows Rachel is going to be livid if he shows up. Cooper won't react much better. He doesn't know what Jake's friends will say. He's is fairly certain Jake told at least a few of them about Vegas, which means they won't be happy to discover Kurt is there. But Blaine doesn't say anything.
He doesn't want to think too long about why.