Blaine hated the waiting room the most. The days were draining, and he hated the anxiety surrounding the daily appointments.
He hated all of it, actually.
"Madeline?" Nurse Alice opened the door and Blaine picked up his three-year-old little girl who clung to her stuffed dog. He hated that he knew every nurse's name by now.
"No tears today, hm?" Blaine coaxed, kissing his daughter's head. "Since Papa brought you today, maybe we can stop for a treat on the way home."
Blaine walked into the cold radiology room and sat down on the bed, trying to ignore the giant machine behind him that would soon be sending radiation through Madeline's brain.
"A treat," she repeated excitedly, leaning back in Blaine's lap so he could cradle her. This was day six of radiation; she knew the routine.
Nurse Alice turned on some Disney princess music in the background to soothe the little girl, and a second nurse entered, preparing Madeline's general anesthesia to put her to sleep. She let Blaine hold the mask over his daughter's face until her eyelids fluttered shut, then they moved her onto the bed alone, preparing her for the treatment.
Blaine stood back by the wall for a few minutes, until everything was settled. He personally didn't like staying in the room the whole time, so he went back outside the waiting room, walking through the skybridge of the hospital, watching the New York City traffic below him.
It had been over two weeks since Madeline had been diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. The survival rate was 1% after 9-12 months. He, Kurt, and their son, Micah, were in shock and devastated.
The oncologist had tried to be optimistic. Radiation five times a week for six weeks to alleviate her symptoms. It had all started on a family trip, where Madeline began to trip over her own feet, have double vision, and be unable to move one side of her face. It might not buy her more time, but it would help her feel better and slow the tumor's growth.
The first day of radiation, both Blaine and Kurt took her in, unsure what to expect. From then on they switched days, except for Fridays. They both took her in to celebrate the end of the week.
The hardest part, at least for Blaine, was thinking ahead to what the future would look like. It was May; would their daughter live until Christmas? Everything was unknown. Micah would start pre-k and kindergarten without his twin and best friend. Burt and Carole would lose their only granddaughter. Everyone was still reeling from the diagnosis, and neither Blaine nor Kurt knew how to explain to their extremely intelligent baby girl why she was feeling sick all the time and had to start going to the hospital every day.
Blaine didn't realize he had tears running down his face until the nurse opened the door to the radiology clinic to tell him they had finished. He quickly pulled it together to go see his daughter in a separate, smaller recovery room.
It took her about another fifteen minutes to wake up from the anesthesia. When Madeline woke up, she was often confused and very agitated, which was hard for them to see in her. Nurse Alice got her something to drink and let Blaine hold her as she came around, which thankfully calmed her.
"You did so good today," Blaine told her, pulling her hair back away from her face. "You get to tell Daddy that you get a treat next time we go to the store."
Madeline smiled, grabbing for her small stuffed animal Blaine had been holding on to. "Can all of the princesses come visit me next time?" she asked. "That's a treat. A sticker is not a treat."
Blaine picked her up once she was more awake and calm. They were free to go as soon as they felt Madeline was ready. He had thankfully brought the stroller with him too, since her balance problems made it hard to walk any kind of distance with her. In New York City, that was the biggest logistical obstacle they had faced yet.
"I think a princess party would be very fun," Blaine agreed, kissing her head before exiting the hospital, at least until the next day. They got down to the subway station, Madeline humming "A Whole New World" to herself the whole time. On the ride home, she reached over for Blaine's hand, looking at him with the eyes and curly hair that were identical to his. Blaine didn't know how much longer they would get special one-on-one moments on the train together, but he certainly wasn't going to take them for granted.
Author's Notes:
My heart. This was so, so sad to write.
I have always written Kurt and Blaine as having two little kids: a little boy first, then a girl three years later. For the sake of this, I wrote them as twins, because twins always seem to have that special bond throughout their lives.
Also, awhile back (probably a year ago) I actually drafted this idea as a multi-chapter story. It never got off the ground, but I'm open to feedback if you would like me to go anywhere with this storyline. This was quite a bit shorter than my other recent chapters, but it's just a touch on what I've brainstormed and written to far. We can all read and cry together.