Kurt

It hurts to return to work that afternoon. Blaine and I are both still in shock, and even Cooper seems reluctant to leave Maggie's side, as if he's afraid she might crack at any moment. Alice seems okay, but she's singing Meatloaf songs the entire time, and it astounds me that she can remember so many of the lyrics.

I don't want to go, but I have a job to do, and so I end up leaving just as Polly arrives. She hugs me, and reassures me this is not my fault, but her words fall on deaf ears. I wonder if my love will ever be enough for Maggie to feel complete. I feel like it might not be.

"I know someone," Polly tells me when we're in the hallway, away from little ears. "She's a wonderful therapist, and I think she could really help. Her waiting list is over six months, but I'm going to try and call in a favor."

"Does she specialize in kids?"

"No, grief. Which has no age defining expectations, Kurt. Everyone grieves differently, whether young or old. I think you're grieving too, you know."

"Me?"

"For Nick. For the way you treated his final request. For all the children went through because you wouldn't take them. I feel like you need to address that. I also feel that you and Blaine could do with some couples therapy."

"We've only just gotten together!"

"Yes, and that's truly wonderful, but that's my point. You and Blaine, you're on the cusp of something amazing, and it's important that you're both equipped with the skills needed to deal with what this crazy life can throw at you. In just a few short months, you've gone from being an A-list TV star who stayed out of the limelight, to a father of three, with a live-in boyfriend, and you're splashed across every website, magazine and newspaper out there. As for Blaine, we all know what he's been through to get here."

I sigh heavily. "You're right."

"Of course I'm right, Kurt. Now go on. Go to set, enjoy your day. We'll all be fine. I'm going to talk with Maggie and Alice on their own, and then I thought that I'd take them all to the library; it'll help get Maggie ready for going back to school. Blaine can take some time to rest up. His brother said he was injured in some way?"

"He..." I pause as I realize why Cooper thinks that. "He's a little sore. Nothing too terrible. Thanks, Polly, for everything."

I do my job, but my mind is continually elsewhere, and I find myself missing the most basic of cues, or forgetting lines that I knew perfectly just an hour ago. It's a long and frustrating day, and I soon realize that I won't make it home for dinner as I'd hoped, and I'm unlikely to make it home in time to kiss Maggie goodnight, either.

"I need to get a break," I call to the director, and she sighs, says something to the producer, and then turns back to me.

"In an hour or so? Then we'll break for dinner."

"I need it to be now, actually. I have to call my kids."

"Kurt, seriously? Come on. You know that's a pain in the ass."

"Yeah, but I need to call them."

"You don't even have kids, do you? The ones you're always with? I thought you were just looking out for them for a friend."

"I am. He died."

There's nothing more to say. Or maybe there is, I don't know. I only know that I walk swiftly off set and back to my trailer, where I try Blaine six times, and then Cooper, but there's no answer from either. That means they're probably all out to dinner without me.

I could cry.

I walk back, feeling stupid, and mumble my apologies. The director lets it slide; I think she knows I'm on the edge of tears, and we get the rest of the scene, plus another short one, done.

"Okay, break now," she calls. "Back in an hour, please!"

I head back to my trailer with a heavy heart, preparing myself to sit alone for an hour. I used to relish the solitude, but I don't anymore.

"Kurtie!"

My head snaps up as a familiar little figure pulls open the trailer door from the other side. I briefly see Blaine sitting on the couch, with Joshua in his pyjamas, but I'm quickly engulfed by Alice and Maggie, who hug me tight. I squeeze just as hard in return, trying not to cry.

"Oh my girls! I was missing you! You know just how to cheer me up. Wow. What a lovely surprise."

"I am in my pyjamas, Kurtie!" Alice cries. "And Maggie! That's so funny! And we had our dinner and Bane said we were going to surprise you, and we did! We did!"

"You did," I agree. I laugh, and kiss her little round cheeks. "And you, Miss Maggie? How are you?"

"I'm okay," she says with a shrug, and she seems to mean it. In fact, she seems perfectly content, and quickly settles on my lap with her thumb in her mouth. "You come home tonight," she tells me. "Blaine said."

"I do. It might be very late though."

"But you come home."

"Of course. Why are you worrying? I went to Vancouver and you were okay."

"Blaine was there."

"So it's an issue if we're both away? Together?"

"You might die."

"We..." I stop. "Listen, sweetie, just know that I'll be home tonight, and when I get there, I'll come up and give you a kiss and a cuddle, okay?"

"Okay."

"Do I get a kiss and a cuddle?" Blaine asks, and I smile, leaning in to kiss his lips. "Always. Hello, you, and hello Joshy. Thank you for coming to visit."

"I thought you might be needing us as much as we're needing you."

"Definitely." I take Joshua, kissing him and blowing raspberries into his neck to make him giggle. "How was your day?"

"Good. It was..." He stops, flips the TV on, and finds the Disney channel. "Girls, I'm just going to talk to Kurt."

"Grown up talk," Alice says knowledgeably.

"And kissing," Maggie adds. They settle on the couch together. "Always kissing."

There is kissing, once we're in the next room, but only briefly. I'm far more focused on how Maggie and Alice have been during the day.

"Really okay," Blaine says again. "They went to storytime at the library with Polly, then we all had lunch. This afternoon I gave Maggie a piano lesson while Polly played with Joshua and Alice, then we walked to the park, came home and had dinner. I mean, they've been fine. I've been on edge all day, but then, I always worry."

"I know, but I can't blame you this time."

"Polly called that therapist. She's going to visit tomorrow at ten to discuss things. She'll take it from there."

"She's coming to the house? I have a nine am call."

"Well, you'll have to be late."

"But..."

He fixes me with a look. "But nothing, Kurt, and you know that."

I stop, and nod. "Of course."

"Kurt, I've been thinking." Blaine shits uncomfortably in his chair, and clears his throat. "I think I'm going to quit Home Depot. I know that's dumb, given all I've said, but with all of this? I think it's important that we're with them as much as possible. My shifts are all over the place and you're working, so..."

"Oh Blaine. I'm sorry."

"No, gosh, no, totally not your fault, Kurt."

"I know, but still, I feel..."

"Hey, listen, if you weren't such an amazing superhero, then my not working wouldn't even be an option, would it? I was also thinking about what you said, about my music. I could, you know, be there for the kids during the day; having Polly about means I could spend some one on one time with each of them, too, and then I could maybe book a few gigs?"

"Of course! Blaine, please don't stop doing that. I know you said you were giving it up, but know how much you love to perform, so please, keep it up."

"You don't mind?"

"Mind? It makes me so proud! And hey, maybe we can coax Polly into sitting sometimes so I can come along. Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect." He smiles, and kisses my cheek. "Are you filming this weekend?"

"Nope. I have a photo shoot Friday morning and then nothing until Tuesday."

"Great. Alice has a playdate with her friend Charlotte on Friday, but after that, I figured we might all take a little trip."

"Oh, where?"

"To your dad."

"Oh!" I clap my hands, which makes Blaine laugh loudly. "Yes please! Please!"

"Okay, Alice. Jeez. I wonder where she gets it from?"

"But my dad, though! I get to see my dad!"

Blaine laughs again. "Yeah you do. And maybe me, a bit, if there's any time left over."

"Eh, there might be." I hug him close, letting my fingers slide into his hair. "I love you, Blaine. Thank you for making everything so much better."

I don't get home until nearly three in the morning, but Blaine's visit with the kids had given me enough enthusiasm to push through the tiredness, and we ended up shooting a lot of really great stuff. As a result, I am too wired to sleep, and it's nearing five when my eyes eventually close.

I don't hear Blaine waking up. I don't hear the kids, either. In fact, I don't hear anything until nine thirty when Blaine gently wakes me to tell me the therapist has arrived early.

"I'm so sorry," he says as I rub my eyes. "I thought I'd give you a chance to sleep, but it turns out she was worried about finding the place, so allowed extra time to get here."

"It's okay. I'll get down as quick as I can."

But I don't feel as if it's okay. I feel like I'm on the back foot; like I haven't had any say in this woman coming into my home, to tell me how to raise my kids, and now she's a half hour early and I'm expected to rush down to meet her. I barely register Cooper standing in my kitchen, handing me a mug of coffee as I pass through to the conservatory, but I do know that Joshua toddles after me, calling "papa, papa," and I have to tell him to go to Polly, instead.

"I'm here."

Blaine looks up, smiles, and gets to his feet; the perfect gentleman. "Ah, Kurt. This is Carole."

The woman is in her fifties, short, and dressed in a lot of denim. Not how I'd imagine a therapist to look, really, but then again, I'm not sure what I was expecting, either.

"Kurt," she smiles, and offers her hand.

"Mr. Hummel," I say as we shake, and then she gestures for me to sit next to Blaine, as if this weren't really my own house.

"Kurt," she repeats. "Blaine was just telling me how you two met. Such a cute story. I'm Carole Hudson, and I work as a grief counsellor. I know Polly rather well since we've worked on a few cases together now."

"Cases? Is that what we are to you? A case? These are my children's lives, you know. They're not just another statistic. They're.."

"Kurt, calm down," Blaine whispers. He reaches for my hand but I pull away.

"They're my children. Our children," I add, when I see the look of hurt flash across Blaine's face. "Ours."

"I understand the State placed them in your long-term foster care, yes? To be reviewed in six months? That's... Oh, right about now, isn't it?"

"Oh, so what, you're taking them away, is that it? That's your angle?"

"Kurt!"

"Kurt, I am not doing any such thing," Carole says firmly. "Your partner is right. You need to calm down and listen to me. I am a grief therapist, not a social worker. You will, however, be visited by a social worker at some point, but I'd imagine they'd take one look at your lovely children, and leave them exactly where they are. Why would they take them back into care?"

"Because I'm failing them, aren't I? I didn't want them in the first place, and then I did, and now I've been assuming we're all A-okay, but really, all the time, Maggie's been living in fear of us dying, and Alice remembers her dad but can't figure out where he's gone!"

"Kurt, you have been A-okay," Carole insists. "All of you. But the fact is, grief manifests itself in very different ways, and..."

"Oh, what do you know? Some book told you all of this and now you get to quote it back at me while I pay you two hundred dollars an hour?"

"I lost my son, actually," Carole says, stopping me in my tracks. "So I speak from experience, Kurt. From a place of understanding. He would have been about your age, actually. He was in college, training to be a teacher. And he uh... yes. He died. I was a nurse, before that, but I couldn't... I found it hard to go back to work. I couldn't settle. Kept expecting another call, which was dumb, since I have no other family. Even so, I used to have panic attacks about it. So I took some time out, and then a friend suggested I get some therapy. While I was getting that, I figured that actually, I could turn my grief into a positive thing, and use it to help others. So that's where I'm at, now. The thing is, Kurt, I could do that. I could make that choice for myself. A five year old can't do that, but you can help her. Both of you can."

"She's almost six," I mumble. I feel Blaine's toe nudging against my ankle, and this time, I take his hand in mine. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you. Now, I suggest we talk about Maggie, don't you?"

As it happens, the session is useful. We don't get very far in terms of solving anything, but we are able to give Carole a thorough background on all that has taken place since the kids have been with me, and how Blaine fits into it all. Cooper also comes in, and explains in detail about the night he spent with Maggie, and then, and the end of the session, Carole says she will help. I find myself oddly relieved.

"We'll work as a group, the five of you, but also individually. It would also be beneficial if I could meet with extended family, like your brother, Blaine. Parents? Just so we could all be singing from the same hymn sheet, as it were."

"Sure," Blaine nods, and squeezes my hand, full of enthusiasm. "We're actually visiting Kurt's dad this weekend so we can ask him. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome." Carole gets to her feet, and shakes both of our hands again. "They seem like lovely kids. Congratulations."

"They're broken."

Carole stops in the doorway and turns back to look at me. "But aren't we all, Kurt? Maybe we all just need a little help to stick our pieces back together, that's all."

"I have money. I'll pay whatever it takes."

"Oh Kurt. You don't need money. You just need time, and a whole lot of love. You have both. In abundance."

Her comment stays with me in the coming days, and I eventually raise it with Blaine on the flight to Ohio. "It's a stupid thing to say. Of course we need money; she charges two hundred freaking dollars an hour."

"That's not what she meant and you know it."

"So what did she mean?"

"Stop it, Kurt. Why are you so against her? I thought you were all for therapy."

"I was. I am. I just... I don't know."

I cradle a sleeping Joshua closer, and stare out of the window, and Blaine returns to his book.

"I'm really scared," I admit when we're waiting for our luggage. I move a little closer, wary of too much public affection now we're no longer in New York.

"I know." Blaine's fingers find mine, briefly, and he offers a smile. "I'm scared too. But we'll work it all out, I promise you. I was watching Alice this morning, with her little friend, and I just know she's going to be fine. They'll all be fine."

"I forgot she had a play date. You went with her?"

"Yeah. I spoke with the girl's nanny at Alice's party. She's nice. We had coffee while they played and Joshy napped."

"Did you meet the parents?"

"Nope. They're investment bankers in the city, apparently."

"Nannies have a thing for you."

"Huh?"

"That girl who came from the agency that time."

"Kurt, stop pouting."

"I'm not!"

Blaine laughs, and pulls our cases from the carousel. "You blatantly are." He takes charge while I sulk; loading the cases onto the cart, balancing Alice and Maggie on top, and directing me to push Joshua's stroller.

"Kurt." He sighs, lifts my chin, and kisses my lips. "I am wildly gay for you, in case you didn't notice. Now stop sulking. Your dad will be waiting."

"Wildly gay?" I ask as we walk towards the arrivals hall.

"Very much so."

"That's how you identify now?"

"Nope. Only gay for you."

"Bisexual, then."

"No," he repeats. "Wildly gay for you, and never in need of being with anyone else, man, woman, or otherwise."

I smile, and it turns into a wide grin of delight. "I like that."

"Finally."

My dad alerts the whole airport to my arrival. Not only is he holding a sign with "Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson" written on it, he also booms my name out across the arrivals hall as soon as he sees me. It's little wonder that I immediately hear the whispers and see phones being taken out of bags. I guess, to my dad, I'll never be Kurt Hummel, the world famous actor, but I'll always be his little boy, coming home for a visit.

He crushes us all in his arms, kissing, squeezing, crying, and each and everyone of us is as happy to see him in return. "You kids are all growing up," he declares, ruffling Blaine's hair in an effort to be funny. "Come on, girls, let's see if I can do this, huh?"

He lifts them both, and strides confidently from the airport.

"Dad, they're heavy."

"They're not. They're my little girls, and always will be. Hey kids, guess what? I decorated the guest room just for you."

"Is it superhero?" Alice asks, at the same time as Maggie says;

"Can it be pink? Or blue?"

"It's a little bit of everything," dad says, laughing. "You'll see."

And it is. The third bedroom at dad's place used to be full of papers, sports memorabilia, and, for a while, my quilting collection until I gave up on that particular pastime. Now it has bunk beds and one smaller, toddler sized bed with a safety rail in place. Above each bed, is a mural; a pretty fairy garden scene for Maggie, Avengers for Alice, and a farmyard for Joshua, complete with a unicorn in among the horses. The walls are a warm yellow, there's a blue rug on the floor which delights Maggie, and on another wall, between the two windows, is a cardboard cut out of me dressed as Firestone, which I had sent to my dad when the first promo shots were released.

"Had to find a use for it someplace," he says with a smile. "Proud of you, kiddo. It airs soon, right?"

"Starts next month. Premiere is the eighteenth. Dad, this is wonderful."

"Eh, well, you know... Beer?"

I smile; dad and I are the masters at avoiding emotive subjects when we want to. "Sure."

When the kids are settled to sleep that night, the three of us sit in the living room, and I tell my dad everything that's unfolded regarding Maggie in the last few days. He listens, taking it all in, nodding in all the right places.

"The therapist thinks it'd be good to meet you, and Blaine's parents."

"Does she now? Hmm."

"Don't you think that would help?" Blaine asks.

"Oh yeah, for sure. As long as you're keepin' 'em."

"What?"

"The kids."

His comment surprises me. "Why the hell wouldn't we keep them?"

"I don't know, but you've not done much about it, have you?"

"I've given them a home! They live with Blaine and I...we have a life, as a family."

"I see." He sips his beer, and nods again. "Of course I'll come meet with her. Just tell me when."

"Thank you."

We settle to watch TV, but Blaine is uptight; I can feel it as I lie against his chest. I'm dismayed; I had assumed this weekend would be perfect, but I can feel it unraveling in all sorts of ways. I ask him three times if he's okay, but after that I figure if I ask again he might explode, so I say nothing, and he picks up his phone.

I honestly can't understand what he does on it all the time, other than text his brother or Sam, since he quickly deleted all of his social media accounts when news started breaking about us. Still, he sits there, scrolling, and then he sighs, and tosses it onto the couch.

"Out of charge?"

"No, I'm just sick of seeing my face everywhere, that's all, and I have no wish to see the kids paraded across some blogging site for fangirls to fetishise our relationship, either."

"What?"

"Santana keeps sending me stuff. Pictures from the airport, earlier."

"Yeah, well we knew that was going to happen, since big mouth over there can never be quiet."

Dad shrugs. "I was pleased to see ya. Sorry, Blaine."

"No, Burt, you don't need to be sorry, that's my point. You should be allowed to do that. We should be able to greet you just like any other family, but instead, we have our pictures spread all over the internet. It pisses me off."

"I know it does," I start, "but..."

"No, but nothing! You didn't get this before, did you?"

"I had my picture taken by fans, yes, but I didn't really go anywhere or do anything to warrant much attention, because I was too scared. I don't want that life for you or the kids. I don't want to hide away."

"Neither do I, I just don't want our every move documented."

"Not a lot we can really do about it, Blaine."

"It sucks," he mumbles, getting to his feet. "Really sucks. I'm going to bed."

I leave him for over half an hour, and my dad and I discuss the perils of the life I've chosen.

"He didn't choose it, you see," dad explains. "He had it pushed upon him."

"He chose me, though. And he said he'd try to deal with it."

"I think he is. But Blaine is a quiet person, Kurt. It must be very alien for him to see himself everywhere, and probably a little bit hurtful for him to know that the only reason he's out there, is because of his association with you. Not for any of his own merits."

"True. I do kinda wish it wasn't so intense. I mean, I get it comes with the territory, but just a little let up would be nice. I'm already worrying about Maggie going back to school; I feel like I can't take her."

"So move away from it," my dad suggests. "Move to some well-to-do suburb where no one will bother you, and no one will tip the press off because they don't want the area brought down by their presence. There must be other actors with kids who stay outta the spotlight. I get that the show is coming up, but after that you must get a break, surely? It can't remain that intense forever."

"Hmm. Maybe." I smile and get to my feet, kissing his forehead as I pass. "G'night, dad."

"Night, kid. Sleep well."

Blaine lies curled on his side, and I am starkly reminded of the night I stole into his room. Once again I curl behind him, and once again he pulls my arm a little bit tighter, keeping me close. I kiss his shoulder softly.

"I'm not mad at you," he says softly. "I don't blame you."

"I know that."

"And I know all you say, about it only being us who knows what really goes on, I know that's all true. I just struggle. Everyone knows we're here. I see the posts, speculating what we're doing here. I see one saying your dad lives here, another wondering if we've flown out here to tell him we're engaged."

"What?"

"Exactly. One even said we might be telling your dad we're having another baby, and then there's a hundred comments along the lines of 'squee' or 'omg.' It just upsets me."

"I get that. Dad said we should move out of the city."

"Really? I guess I hadn't thought about that."

"I didn't either."

"Something to discuss, maybe?"

"Yeah." I kiss his shoulder again. "I love you, though, Blaine. Please don't ever forget that."

"I won't. And I love you too. Also? Just so you know, I might hate the attention, but I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank God."

I am first up the next morning, but when I head downstairs in search of coffee, I find my dad has gotten all three kids dressed, and fed them breakfast.

"Wow, dad, I'm impressed. It's not even eight."

"Mmmhmm. So, uh... we're going to head out."

"All of you?"

"Yes. We'll be back around lunchtime. Uh... while we're gone, you might want to read this." He hands me his ipad, and kisses into my hair. "Just remember Blaine is all new to this, Kurt, please."

"Huh?"

Dad doesn't reply. In fact, he doesn't even look at me, just waits for me to kiss the kids goodbye, and then I'm left alone in a silent house, with Blaine still sleeping upstairs.

I open up the ipad, to see a long article on a tabloid site. It's American Star, renowned for writing speculative gossip, only what they've written isn't speculative gossip at all. It's from a 'well-placed source,' and every quote they have, has come from Blaine.