Chapter Sixteen: Routine

"Blaine's coming back today." The gruffness in his father's voice as he huffed those words made Kurt wonder when the vein in his forehead was finally going to give. Burt's face had thick lines drawn into it in a way that made him look much older than he was; his son had a feeling that the man had noticed this recently, despite his general lack of interest in his appearance. Perhaps it had something to do with his grumpiness. That or the fact that it was six o'clock on a Monday morning.

"He is," Kurt confirmed, biting his lips to hide the smile threatening to bloom, despite a particularly strong case of that early day feeling that sits in your stomach, somewhat akin to hunger, until something in the sky shifts and you feel less uneasy.

Burt frowned, an unbecoming expression. "Is that why you're up so early?"

"He and Dr. Anderson are dropping Lily off at school before th-they're even starting the drive home," Kurt contested. "That's at least four more hours. So, no, d-dad, that's not why I'm up early."

"Oh." The mechanic sipped on his black coffee, hardly tasting it as he tried to wake himself up. One thing he wouldn't miss when Kurt was discharged was driving all the way to the hospital in the morning before work or, heaven forbid, sleeping in that uncomfortable plastic chair that they'd never gotten around to replacing. He said casually, "It's been two days apart, but you've been glued to your phone texting the man. I do wonder how he can act so childish at his age."

"It's complicated."

Burt shook his head. "There's nothing complicated about it. It's inappropriate, and as the adult, he should be putting an end to it."

"He's my friend, d-dad! And I am an adult."

"Okay," Burt conceded. "Fine. But I don't believe that nothing is going on there, and I'm not happy about it."

Kurt sighed. "Are you going to act like this forever?"

"Like what?"

"Like you don't want Blaine to come home," the boy snapped, shucking his covers and padding out of bed to confront his father. He moved slowly, and the frustration at his own physical condition kept growing and growing until it overpowered his rationale telling him that he had gotten out easy. No, he was sick of patronizing rationale. Kurt's nostrils flared as he cried, "He's done nothing but keep me alive, and you're t-treating him like he's some kind of criminal!"

"I'm treating him like someone who could hurt my son," Burt shot back, taking Kurt's hand in his own. "I'm treating him like someone who has the power to do just that."

I want to hold your hand.

Kurt snatched his hand away. "Blaine wouldn't hurt me."

"How do you know that?" Burt protested. "How long have you known the guy? A few weeks?"

"It feels like longer. He said so himself," Kurt admitted.

"That's not something you say to a friend. Would you say that to Rachel?"

His expression became stone. "I wouldn't say much t-to Rachel."

Burt rubbed a hand over his mouth. "Sorry, kiddo. Didn't mean to…"

"Not your fault." Somehow, they both knew that the conversation was over then. Neither felt the need to fight any more, despite both believing they were right.

They fell into silence. Kurt took the time to let his gaze wander around the room he'd spent so much time in over the past month. It was too early for sunlight in the dead of winter, and the overhead lighting was harsh against his tired eyes, but it illuminated the hospital room a bright, cheerful white – he liked to think of it as cheerful rather than industrial. The whiteboard calendar on his dresser had more red ink on it, crossing out each December day with fervor.

Oh. Six days until Christmas. Somehow, he hadn't given it much thought since… well, before. Hadn't dared to, not until he knew that he could go home before then. The thought of drinking eggnog in a hospital cafeteria and taking scrapbook photos under fluorescent lighting had been almost too much to bear – yes, he'd been through worse, but somehow it was worse during the holidays, like more was being taken from him when he'd already lost so much.

He would be home by then, he realized with a jolt. Six days.

The air still smelled like early morning.

Burt stood abruptly, eyes trained on the clock. "I should get going. The store opens in half an hour."

"Go ahead," Kurt shrugged, pointing into the hallway. "Finn's here, anyway."

Finn trudged into the room in his sweats, the level of effort that he put into his clothes once school was out for the semester. As Burt patted his shoulder before leaving, Finn turned to his stepbrother and held up a stack of paper, shaking his head. "Failed my damn biology midterm," he announced miserably.

Kurt frowned, taking the paper. The top of the sheet was decorated with a number in large font, a number that was far too low. "You studied so hard for it!"

"I guess the universe is out to get me," he muttered, kicking the wall angrily. "First Rachel cheats on me, dumps me after I tell her that I forgive her, and then I fail my midterm that I actually studied for and Mr. Schue and Figgins tell me I can't perform at Regionals unless I bring my average up."

"Sounds like a cosmic ass-kicking, kid," a voice called from the open doorway. The two boys looked in its direction to find a sunny Marley Rose dressed in baby pink scrubs with two hot coffees in her hands. She stepped into the room, glancing around it with a hint of approval. "Nice décor, Kurt."

"Thanks," he replied, smiling with gratitude as she handed him one of the cups, making sure to point out the decaf label on the side as he rolled his eyes at her. "What are you doing here? Did Blaine send you?"

"As if," she scoffed playfully, elbowing him. "Blaine can't send me anywhere because he's powerless against my feminine wile."

"Sorry, who are you?" Finn interjected curiously, unbothered by his discourtesy. She laughed, punching him in the arm amicably despite not even knowing his name.

"The name's Marley Rose," she answered in her gentle yet influential tone. "I'm a new friend."

"I'm Kurt's brother, Finn Hudson," he replied as they shook hands, seemingly more interested in this conversation than he was before. "So, what are you here for?"

Marley grinned. "Thought I'd stop by once I caught a break from rounds. I came to pay a visit to Kurt since the last time we met ended less than pleasantly."

"It wasn't th-that bad!" Kurt defended.

She raised an eyebrow. "We ended up talking about Blaine's sex life. I wouldn't count it a great first impression."

Finn sputtered, coughing as he pounded his chest. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Oh, it's unimportant," she dismissed, plopping herself into the chair and crossing her long legs. As she blew on the drink, her glossy lips shimmered in the overhead light. "So, you need a biology tutor? I'd say I'm qualified, and I can probably spare an hour or two a week."

His eyes narrowed as he watched her skeptically. "Why would you do that? You barely know me."

She shrugged. "I'm a nice person, and you are Kurt's brother, which makes us friends. Also, I may have an ulterior motive."

"And what would that be?"

"You're the male lead of the New Directions, if I'm not mistaken?" At his nod, she grinned, wide and telling. "That's what I thought. I've been keeping an eye on your club since I graduated McKinley – don't you dare ask me how long ago."

Finn held his hands up innocently. "Wasn't planning on it. My mother raised me right."

She smirked. "Anyway, the New Directions haven't won Nationals since 1993, if I remember correctly. We got close during my senior year, but I think this year you guys have an actual shot."

"You went to McKinley?" Kurt asked incredulously, wondering how such a strong and successful woman could have come from that disaster of a school. "Blaine never t-told me."

"He doesn't know," she said matter-of-factly. "I only know that he went to Dalton because he won't shut the fuck up about it. But, other than Blaine Warbler, once you graduate college, no one really bring up high school anymore."

"I can't wait for th-that," he muttered darkly, sipping at his bitter, heavenly drink.

She grimaced sympathetically. "Not looking forward to going back?"

"Can you blame me?"

"Not an ounce. High school is the worst, especially if you miss time for whatever reason."

That made Kurt stop in his tracks. How much did she know? He realized that she could have no idea why he was in the hospital – maybe he'd sleepwalked into a pole, or tried to do a dance number with Finn, both of which were perfectly reasonable reasons to wind up with a couple of broken ribs. The thought was freeing in an unfamiliar way, and Kurt thought that he would have to redefine many words in this new chapter of his life.

"College is better?" he asked, steering the subject away from himself.

"Amazing," she extoled. "It was a lot of work since I was pre-med but so worth it. It was like finally having a taste of the rest of my life. Medical school is tougher, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. Honestly, the secret is just that you have to find something that makes you happy and stick with it."

Finn had this thoughtful expression on his face that was seldom found there. "You're a med student?"

"Mm hmm."

"And you're going to be a doctor?"

"That's generally what follows, yes," she teased, resting her coffee cup on her knees.

Finn flushed but soldiered on. "I just mean you're, like, smart. You know biology. And you would tutor me?"

"I offered, didn't I?" Noticing his hesitancy, she plastered a serious look onto her face and made eye contact, nodding firmly. "Yes, Finn, I will tutor you. There's no reason to be ashamed about needing help sometimes. I've had many, many tutors over my lifetime."

"Really?" At her nod, a bright smile stretched out over Finn's lips. "Okay. Thank you, Marley."

"No problem. It's good for me to review, too." She turned to Kurt, pressing a slip of paper into his hand. As he unraveled it, he realized it was her phone number and turned an inquisitive look onto her. She explained, "Share it with your brother. That way, we can set something up."

"Of course," he agreed, a tad confused. "Why not just give th-the paper to him?"

"Because then you wouldn't have my number, and we wouldn't be able to make fun of Blaine together," she replied seriously.

Kurt barked out a laugh. "Ah, yes. How very important."

She nodded solemnly. "Someone needs to keep his ego in check, and it wouldn't be half as fun without you."

"But it's a full-time job, and I do have to go back to school next semester," he perceived. It almost passed by his notice that he was able to think about going back to school without flinching for the first time in quite a while.

"Why, that is truly tragic," she declared, feigning sobs.

"I'm sure we'll be able to figure something out," he decided. As they burst into a fit of giggles, Kurt vowed to himself to keep in touch, fingers grasping the little slip of paper tightly like a lifeline. Finn joined in on their laughter after a moment, likely just for the sake of it rather than for understanding of their jokes.

As they calmed down, Marley wiped a stray tear from her cheek, saying, "This has been rightly entertaining, Kurt. I understand what Blaine sees in you."

"Wh-Wh-What, I," he sputtered, blood rushing to his cheeks as he blushed. "Th-That's not…"

She raised her eyebrows. "I meant that innocently, but Kurt, you're red as a tomato."

"That's not a very creative simile," he muttered under his breath, the hand on his chest attempting to slow his heartrate.

She fake-gagged. "Okay, I take it back. You're exactly like Wes. I swear, the two of you would love each other."

"I th-thought he was Blaine's platonic husband?" Kurt questioned, smirking at her.

"Yeah, well, you're his counterpart," Marley shot back, "and Blaine actually has a chance with you."

Kurt hid his face in his hands, embarrassment creeping up his spine. "Shut up."

"Kurt." Marley's voice was soft with a hint of remorse, and it encouraged him to remove the hands from his face without saying anything else. He opened his eyes slowly, wincing as they landed on a concerned face. She said, "I didn't mean to embarrass you, really. But I take it that Blaine didn't follow my advice to just speak to you about this."

"He speaks to me about everything except th-th-that," he muttered, and suddenly the descriptor of 'tomato red' didn't seem too cliché. His gaze darted to his brother, who was exhibiting that pensive face again, which frightened him a little. He whispered to the woman, "Can we talk about this later?"

She followed his line of sight and nodded in realization. "Of course. You have my number," she said, standing from her chair and gesturing to her clothes. "I'm sure Blaine has told you already, but we're doing inpatient pediatrics right now, hence the pink scrubs. I should be getting back to my kids. It's sad that Blaine missed today, considering he actually likes children, but he really needed to see his niece, so we all understand."

"You could say he's working on the application," Kurt supplied amusedly.

She grinned, pointing at his head with her coffee cup. "You're smart, kid." Before he had a chance to protest, Marley waved goodbye to the two teenagers, disappearing into the empty hospital hallways to take care of whatever she spent her days doing. Kurt wasn't too well-versed on the habitual of third year medicine.

Then, Kurt turned to his brother, dreading the confrontation about that conversation he was sure was coming – but, to his pleasant surprise, his brother said nothing about it. Instead, Finn launched into a spiel about the comeback song he was going to sing once he was allowed back into the club, rattling off a long list and asking Kurt for his input.

The boy distractedly picked one of the songs – the right choice, if Finn's happy tittering was anything to go by. They spent the rest of the morning arranging the song together, Kurt electing to work on the music while Finn practiced the vocals. Kurt was glad to have something to occupy his reeling mind, and he made notes on the sheet enthusiastically, realizing how much he'd missed the routine of preparing for Glee performances. He could prepare one of his own, maybe. He hadn't told anyone about his breakthrough the other day, but maybe there was a better way than telling them.

If he also spent the morning sneaking glances at the clock hanging above the door, cursing gently under his breath every time it wasn't ten o'clock yet… Well, no one needed to know that, did they?

Blaine checked his wristwatch once more, tapping his foot impatiently against the floor of the car. Traffic was much heavier in Westerville than it was in Lima, probably because it was a smidge less of a fucking ghost town. He sighed, schooling his thoughts in a more positive direction – there was no use in letting it take over his morning.

Out of the corner of his eye, Cooper threw slightly irritated glances at him. "Do you have somewhere to be?"

"No, sorry," he apologized, stilling his foot. Looking over his shoulder, Blaine shot a cheerful smile at his niece, who was staring out the window with her lips in a straight line. "Hey, bug, you excited for the last day of school before holiday break?"

She shrugged. "I guess."

"You don't sound excited," Blaine observed, smile falling into a frown. "Is something wrong?"

Rolling her eyes, she gave him a weak grin. "I'm just going to miss you and daddy."

"I'll be back this weekend for Christmas, sweetie," Cooper reminded her gently, finally pulling into the parking lot. "And I get to leave early on Friday, so we have almost three days! Isn't that fun?"

This time, her smile seemed a little more genuine. "Yes! I can't wait."

"And don't forget you're coming to live with your dad soon, so we can all see each other all the time!" Blaine interjected, his heart warming at the sight of her sparkling eyes.

She nodded, tugging at the strap of her backpack. "Can you walk me inside, Uncle Blaine?"

"Of course, bug," he answered, clicking off his seatbelt and climbing out of the car. He pulled the door open for her, rewarded by the brightest smile yet. He bowed dramatically and said, "After you, your highness."

Leading her into the ancient-looking building, Blaine stared in awe at the walls. It reminded him so strongly of his high school years, sneaking into Dalton's sister school with Wes and David so they could see their girlfriends. He hadn't been back in the building since junior year when they'd gotten caught and had been given detention for three weeks. Of course, he'd never spent much time in the elementary building.

"Is this your class?" he asked his niece, pointing to a sign above a colourfully decorated classroom that seemed to clash horribly with the age of the structure. When she nodded, he escorted her into the room, spotting the teacher at the front. The woman noticed them immediately, making her way towards them.

"Good morning, Lily," she cooed as the girl shrugged off her backpack and stored her lunch box in the cubicle beside the door. Lily greeted her quietly, appearing like a completely different kid – a shy girl who didn't look her teacher in the eye instead of their exuberant, cheerful girl who made cookies with her dad and pouted when he only let her have one after dinner.

"I'm her uncle, Blaine Anderson," he introduced, shaking the teacher's hand firmly after kissing Lily's head and setting her off with the other kids. He frowned when she didn't go speak to any of them, deciding instead to sit at the craft table and draw on a sheet of paper.

"I remember you," the woman declared, laughing. "Lead soloist of the Warblers. You and your group used to serenade us in high school."

"Ah, an alum?" She nodded, and he smiled charmingly. "Lovely to see you again."

She hesitated before leaning in slightly, keeping one eye on the kids. "This maybe be strange, but would you like to go out for coffee later?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Actually," he began, wincing already as her face fell, "I don't… play for your team. But I'm flattered, really!" He reassured her as she began to apologize profusely in shame.

"I'm so sorry," she groaned, trying to keep her face neutral. "I don't know why I even asked. That was very unprofessional."

"Honestly, it's no big deal," he insisted, suddenly distracted as he noticed a deep frown on Lily's face. He gestured towards her, asking her teacher, "Is she always like this? I thought she'd be more excited about the last day of school, and she's not even speaking to anyone."

She nodded, sighing. "Unfortunately, yes. She's been a shy thing in my class. I spoke to her grandmother about it again last week, but she's been like this since she arrived in September. I know there's been some… difficulty at home."

"I assume the school has mentioned that she won't be returning next semester," Blaine brought up.

"Yes, I had wondered about that."

"She's moving in with her father," he explained, "in Lima."

The teacher smiled lightly. "She's always happier after he visits. Sometimes she tells me about it during lunch breaks, and it's one of the only times she even speaks to me, much less the other kids. I'm sure it's the right thing for her, having him around more."

"That's great to hear," Blaine exclaimed, reassured. His phone pinged in his jacket pocket, and he pulled it out, scanning the text on the screen. It was from Cooper, asking if everything was alright. He replied that he was just chatting with the teacher, ignoring his brother's jibe about him flirting with women he wasn't interested in. Quickly, he said farewell. "I should be heading out. Long drive back to Lima."

He waved goodbye as he shot one last glance at Lily before ducking out the door and making his way back to the car. Cooper smirked at him as he slid into the passenger seat. "I swear, you get more chicks than I do," he moaned, starting up the engine.

Blaine glared at him. "Well, you get more guys than I do."

The man whistled low as he pulled out of the paved parking lot. "Touché."

They drove in silence for a while, Blaine periodically checking his wristwatch as he itched to text Kurt about the slightly amusing experience. However, whenever he would think about it, his mind drifted to Lily, lonely-looking with a sad frown and crayon-covered fingers. He turned and watched his brother drive, appearing to have a lot on his own mind.

"You're doing the right thing bringing her home," Blaine said suddenly, the words flowing spontaneously. "Her teacher said she's always happier after you come visit. I think she'll be like that more when she comes and lives with you."

It was then that Blaine realized there were tears streaming down Cooper's cheeks. Alarm rose in his chest, as he couldn't even recall the last time that he'd seen his brother cry. "Every time I leave her here," Cooper cried softly, pulling over on an empty street. He wiped at his cheeks slyly. "I cry every time. Don't pity me or anything."

"I don't," Blaine replied, lying through his teeth and hoping his brother wouldn't notice. "I don't, because this is the last time, right?"

"I can't believe I left her for so long," he whispered, clutching the steering wheel.

"It doesn't matter. You're taking her home now."

"I'm the reason she's been miserable for the last six months."

"No," Blaine disputed firmly, grasping his brother's shoulder. "You both had something horrible happen to you, and you needed to heal before you could help her heal. Now, you're both on your way."

"But I could have been there-"

Blaine grimaced. "Sure, you could have, but don't you remember the first few months? You were at the end of a bottle most nights, Coop. It was even interfering with your work. That's not the right way for a kid to live. Mom was stable and capable of taking care of her until you could do it yourself."

Cooper nodded slowly, taking deep, shaky breaths. His voice broke as he said, "I'm so ashamed of how I acted. That's not how a father should behave."

That's how our father behaved, Blaine thought. He kept it to himself, knowing that if he said it, he might break Cooper beyond repair. At least he was working on having a filter on his mouth now.

"You're a great father," he said instead. "A great father who is going to make his little girl so happy by being around and by loving her."

"Okay," Cooper accepted unsteadily. "I believe you."

With that, they opened their door without speaking and swapped seats, Blaine in the driver's and Cooper in the passenger's. Ever since Blaine was sixteen years old and he'd been learning how to drive, Cooper's number one rule had been to never drive while emotional – impaired driving means more than just substances, he'd always said, over the phone because he'd been living in California at the time.

Of the two of them, Blaine was the least impaired.

He rolled the windows down as he pulled out onto the busy streets, letting the cool wind wash away the heat of sadness in their faces.

"She asked you out?" Kurt exclaimed, choking on his laughter. "Th-That's amazing."

"Ugh," Blaine groaned, hiding his red face in his palms. "Why did I even tell you this? I should have known you'd tease me."

Grin so wide it hurt, Kurt raised his eyebrows. "You t-told me because I forced it out of you, because I'm irresistible."

"I thought I was irresistible! Remember my pouting face?" Blaine pulled the face in question, resembling, for all intents and purposes, a petulant child mixed with a sad puppy.

Kurt choked out another laugh. "You're right, I can barely resist squeezing your cheeks."

"Hey!" Blaine sulked, pout deepening for a moment before he dissolved into matching giggles.

Assigned by Burt to supervise while he was at the shop, Carole watched their easy conversation and bright smiles, resolving to have a chat with her husband about why exactly she felt like she was intruding on a private moment between the two boys. Blaine looked all of sixteen when he laughed, with sparkling hazel eyes and a nose that rounded into a wide knob. It was so obvious that she wondered if he ever got carded at bars. Oh, bars. Right.

Kurt stopped, watching his face, seemingly noticing the same thing. "Has anyone ever told you th-that you look younger when you smile?"

The man's lips parted, eyebrows pointing upwards like a triangle. "Yeah, actually. Is it that obvious?"

"Kind of," Kurt replied cheekily. "I wonder what it looked like when you were a teenager."

"I was never confused for a kid, actually," Blaine revealed. "Even as a freshman, most people thought I was at least a junior."

"I guess you'll have a teenager's face for life th-then," Kurt teased, poking the man's cheek. "Lucky."

His nose scrunched up. "Not lucky. I'm a year younger than all my peers, too, so no one takes me seriously."

Kurt shrugged. "I take you seriously."

His eyes softened. "And I appreciate that." As if the thought suddenly popped into his head, Blaine's eyes widened. "On this topic, I actually have something for you."

"Oh? Now I'm curious."

Blaine reached into the pocket of his scrubs, pulling out a faded photograph and handing it to Kurt. The boy looked at it for a moment, taking in the blue blazers and red ties, the backdrop of the glorious Dalton campus, and the group of singing boys with one in particular standing out in the centre. His gelled black hair was held like gravity to his head, and his hazel eyes were on display in the absence of those familiar round glasses.

A sharp gasp escaped his lips. "This isn't-"

"It is," Blaine trilled, running a hand nervously through his curls. "I know you wanted to see one from prom, but I figured this would satisfy your incomprehensible desire to see me in high school without embarrassing me beyond belief."

"Okay, first of all, I will see your prom pictures eventually," Kurt argued, eliciting a groan from the subject of the photos. "However, for now, I will accept th-this, because it's fucking precious, oh my god, Blaine."

"Kurt, language," Carole chided half-heartedly, glancing over his shoulder to look at the photo in question. Her eyes widened, and she clasped a hand over her mouth. "Oh my, well, I think I can understand in this one instance."

Kurt laughed, a light and relaxed sound, clutching the photo to his chest. "I'm keeping it forever."

Blaine groaned again, louder, but they could all hear the contentment in his voice. He flushed. "It's nothing special."

"Lies."

"I…" Blaine covered his smile with one hand, trying to tame it, but it bloomed out from beneath his palm. "Okay, Kurt."

Carole cleared her throat, deciding to change the subject to spare the man from her stepson. "Blaine, do you have any plans for Christmas?"

He looked surprised momentarily, as though he hadn't imagined she would ask. "Not really. It's during my week in the NICU so I can't go back to Westerville with my brother, and my roommates are spending it with their families. I'm sure I can pull something together with my colleagues, though."

She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "I'm a nurse, Blaine, so I know what pulling something together with your colleagues in the hospital looks like. That's no way to spend Christmas."

"It's really not a big deal," he insisted. "Cooper will be back by the 26th, and we can have a little celebration then."

"Nonsense," Carole said, shaking her head. "You'll come to dinner with us on Christmas Eve. Kurt is being discharged that morning, so it's also a celebratory dinner, and I can't think of a better person to join us than one of the people responsible for saving his life."

"I couldn't, really," Blaine protested, throwing a glance at Kurt who he was certain would not want to spend a whole night upset with his father for glaring at the company.

He was wrong.

"Please, Blaine?" the boy implored. His lower lip jutted out, and his blue eyes widened, and Blaine thought in that moment that he was entirely done for. "For me?"

He gulped, finding that his mouth had gone dry. "I guess I could come by for one dinner…"

Kurt's smile exploded into a brilliance of white teeth and taut lips. He clapped his hands together excitedly in a juvenile yet far too endearing way. "Carole, we have t-to work on the menu!"

She laughed at his antics, glad to see a glimpse of who he had used to be. "Of course," she said, pulling up their favourite recipe website on her phone and handing it over to the boy, who began scrolling through the options. She watched him for a moment, completely taken by how very Kurt he seemed in that moment, and as she locked eyes with Blaine Anderson, they both seemed to realize at the same the immensity of that fact.

Thank you, she mouthed to the man sitting on the bed across from her.

I didn't know, he mouthed back, wide-eyed, gaze drifting between the woman's sincere expression and the boy who kept inching closer and closer to him until he wound up in Blaine's arms.

They didn't mention it again for the rest of the night.

A/N: Hey guys! I know this chapter was light on Kurt and Blaine interaction, but I think next chapter will make up for it :)

I hope you enjoyed reading. Don't forget to leave a review letting me know your thoughts!

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