When they were eighteen, leaving Lima seemed impossible. Returning at twenty-five, even for a short time, was almost laughably easy. Burt found them a few listings for apartments that had twice the space of their place in New York for a quarter of the price. The one they picked was relatively central to their most important places: the Hudmel house, the Puckerman place, and the hospital where Sarah planned to deliver. The paperwork had been faxed back and forth multiple times, but everything was signed and a key awaited their arrival.
Aside from family, the person they talked with the most in Lima before they moved there was a lawyer. Gina Box was someone Burt had met in his campaign days. In her mid-thirties, she had a no-nonsense attitude when it came down to business and a soft spot for unconventional families. She handled the majority of the foster care and adoption cases that came up in the Lima area, much like her father had before her.
"He actually handled a case quite a while back, about a young gay couple and their surrogate," she informed them during one of their increasingly drawn out calls. Luckily she liked them and wasn't about to charge them for when she started telling stories. "Pretty messy then, what with all the laws in place to prevent their situation. Sixteen years later, that surrogate comes in and says she's recently adopted a child and she doesn't trust anyone else to draw up the contract between her and the parents." Kurt's breath caught and he looked over at Puck, who was trying very hard to not laugh. "I was just getting started there and Dad would hand the practice over to me two years later. But I'll never forget the day that young father came in here. He had a mohawk and this smirk, I'll admit it made me a little weak in the knees. But then he opened his mouth and said—"
"You know sweetheart, I may not be Fred Flinstone, but I can make your bed rock."
Puck's line was met with silence from the other two parties.
"So, I might still have the mohawk, but I know your dad got me a good set-up with Beth. Pretty sure I can trust you to do the same thing with us this time around."
Kurt stuffed a fist into his mouth to stifle his laughter until Gina started giggling down the line. "I'll do my best. There's just a couple of things you should be careful with to get around a few ridiculous Ohio laws…"
By the time Kurt and Puck pulled their car, rarely used in New York and loaded with a few suitcases, into the parking lot of a Lima apartment complex, they were as ready as they could be.
The time flew by quickly. Within three weeks of their arrival, they were holding Sarah's hands as they all found out they were having a girl. Gifts started arriving and advice was given freely. Puck listened well to Carole and Burt, picking up tips and tricks that he hadn't gotten from years of half-raising Sarah alongside his own mother. Quinn called once to simply say she was happy for them. He and Mike ended up talking for a few hours one Saturday until he heard a crash and Mike abruptly took his leave, claiming two-year-old Darcy had gotten into the medicine cabinet again. Rachel wanted to bestow upon them all the knowledge she had acquired through research, but Puck cut her off, saying he loved her dearly but he'd rather have advice on how to be a parent from a parent. When she was still upset, he promised her that she could be the one to help their daughter navigate the perils of having two gay dads. She seemed satisfied with that and he was just thankful that someone else was willing to give his daughter the sex talk. He hung up, promising that he had the Berry's home number if he had any questions.
Christmas and New Year's passed with little incident, as did the majority of Sarah's second trimester. Kurt picked up a job doing office work for Dr. Jones as his receptionist retired and Kurt came with excellent references (Mercedes called from California to put in a good word). Puck in the meantime had finished two more songs and sent them to his publisher while working part-time as a sub at McKinley. Sarah, refusing to simply be taken care of, had looked around for her own job that she could still do while pregnant. When Burt offered her a position filing paperwork for the garage, she had told him that she didn't really want him making up a job just to give her money. By the end of the first day, she had changed her tune. Apparently Burt wasn't kidding about needing someone around to help figure out where certain papers had disappeared to.
"2007!" Sarah said as she walked in the door of the apartment, Kurt trailing closely behind. Puck looked up from his seat on the couch, wondering what it was that Sarah had found in Burt's so-called files. "There was a receipt from 2007 for three hundred dollars worth of oil. And where was it? Under a plant!" She hung her coat, still necessary in mid-February, in the closet next to the door and flopped onto the sofa as well as she could with her belly. "If I hadn't knocked that thing over, I wouldn't have found it. Not that it was necessary, but still. It's been under there for twelve years!"
"I tried to warn you," Kurt called from the kitchen. He usually picked up Sarah from the garage when he got off work, and she stayed with them until Ruth was home, or sometimes all night. Nobody wanted to take chances with the baby. "I'm pretty sure Mom was the one that did all the organizing in the shop and the house. When she wasn't around anymore, I took care of the house, because I was an odd child who liked cleaning," Puck snorted, "and the garage was all him. And now," Kurt came into the living area and sat on the back of the couch, patting Sarah's head, "it's all you."
"It fucking sucks," she stated bluntly. "Uncle Burt has no sense of organization. At all. And this is coming from me. I put everything in three categories: shit I need, shit I might need, and shit I don't need. His filing has one category: shit. Speaking of," she pushed herself up off the couch, Puck's hand unseen but ready to catch her from behind, "I'll be right back."
As she shut the bathroom door, Puck called out, "That's gross, Sarah," receiving a "Bite me," in response. Kurt slid onto the couch and rested his head on Puck's shoulder.
"Dad and I were talking this afternoon."
"About?"
"Marriage." Puck sighed, knowing that it was bound to come up eventually. "He was wondering why we hadn't made it official yet. Went on and on about how we were practically married already, and how the only thing left was a certificate and a ceremony, and didn't I always want to get married to the man of my dreams when I was younger?"
"He called me the man of your dreams?"
"Yeah." Kurt smirked. "Although I bet if he knew what kind of dreams I had about you most often, he wouldn't have used that phrasing."
"Dirty little perv," Puck muttered, throwing an arm around Kurt's shoulder.
"You love it."
"I love you."
"Love you, too." Kurt tipped his head up for a kiss, making it very clear that he wanted more, but with Sarah a few yards away, they knew it wasn't going to happen. They both pulled back, breathing a little heavier than usual, and settled into their positions again. "Anyway, he wanted to know why we weren't getting married before the baby is born."
"It's not like it's a shotgun wedding or anything."
"He knows that, but he was under the impression that it would be easier for a married couple to adopt than a single parent. In a heterosexual relationship, that's true, but for us—"
"For us, it's easier for me to adopt in Ohio, then marriage and step-parent adoption later in New York."
"Exactly." Kurt sighed and snuggled in closer. "Why is it even now, things have to be harder just because we're two men in love instead of a man and a woman?"
"Because the world sucks?" Puck offered. "At least we have Gina on our side. You have to admit, her creative legal manipulation is brilliant."
Sarah's voice, muffled by the bathroom door, floated into the room. "Hey guys?"
"We'd be pretty lost without her," Kurt admitted, standing. He walked over to the bathroom door. "Sarah, you okay?"
"I don't know."
Kurt sent a panicked look in Puck's direction, who quickly strode over and cranked open the door. Sarah was still sitting on the toilet, but that wasn't what was drawing his attention.
Her underwear sat on the floor in front of her, unmistakeable blood stains marring the fabric.
She looked up at them, tears running down her face. "I don't know what's wrong."
Puck went over to the dresser in the spare bedroom where Sarah kept spare clothes. He grabbed a clean pair of panties and some maternity yoga pants. In the bathroom, Kurt was holding her hand, looking like he was about to cry as well. Puck dressed his sister carefully, hauling her into a standing position to pull the pants the rest of the way up, then moved her out the door and to the car. Kurt followed, grabbing wallets and keys and phones as he went.
The drive to the hospital was short but tense. Kurt and Sarah were both crying, and Puck focused on the road to keep himself from joining them. Their arrival at the ER was smooth. As soon as he mentioned "pregnant woman bleeding" to the desk nurse, all three were whisked back and questions and answers began flying.
She was about 26 weeks. Yes, she was a minor, but only for the next two months. No, there was no pain or cramps. No, this hadn't happened before. Yes, Puck and Kurt were family. Yes, she wanted them to follow.
Blood pressure readings were recorded and Sarah was put in a private cubicle. Kurt disappeared to hopefully find a just-clocked-out Carole and get a familiar face watching over them so Sarah's mild doctor phobia was kept at bay. Scans were ordered, tests were run, and the staff tried to locate Dr. Jameson, Sarah's OB-GYN. Burt showed up as soon as he closed the shop, thanks to a call from Carole, and he raised a fuss in the waiting room until they let him back. Ruth was still on shift and would be all night, so she couldn't get away.
It was a few hours before they received a diagnosis of placenta praevia. As Puck understood it, the placenta was between the baby and the vagina, which was not where it was supposed to be. Then the baby kicked it or something and that caused the blood. It wouldn't cause much of a problem as long as there wasn't anymore bleeding, until delivery.
"Wait a second," Sarah interrupted the doctor's explanation. "You mean that you'll have to cut me open instead of me pushing the baby out?"
"That would be the safest way to do this to protect both your life and the life of the child," he stated calmly. "Placenta praevia is a dangerous condition if not handled properly. It could be hazardous to you and even more so to the child."
"So my choices are pushing a watermelon out of my vagina or getting knocked out so someone can slice and dice my stomach?" She looked terrified. "That's it, I'm never having kids again."
The doctor laughed and Carole smiled fondly, both of them used to reactions like this from patients. The rest of the group was a bit more wary.
Eventually they were able to leave. Sarah had a list of suggested changes to make to keep the bleeding down because she needed to check into the hospital when it happened. Burt was rather frazzled at the thought of losing Sarah or his granddaughter, something he hadn't even considered. Carole took her time calming him down and drove him home, promising to answer any questions anyone had to the best of her abilities.
The remaining three went down to the lot where they frantically parked earlier. Sarah sat in the back and stared out the window. She had already made it clear that she was staying at the apartment tonight and no one was going to object. The boys held hands over the center console, fingers intertwined in silent reassurance. They could have lost their baby girl before they even met her, could still lose her.
That night, after Sarah was in bed, they brought out the baby name books. At first, they wanted to meet their daughter before they even thought about naming her. Now that there was a possibility that wouldn't happen, they wanted to have options.
Spring went on with only a few minor incidents. A half-dozen trips to the hospital, four of which turned out to be false alarms. Sarah got bigger and bigger, joking that she could easily get a second job as the Goodyear blimp. The first weekend of May, Puck and Kurt were walking up to the garage to grab Sarah for her lunch break when a woman stormed out the door, fumbling with a lighter.
"Stupid teenage whore," she muttered around the cigarette clenched in her teeth, flicking her bic until it lit long enough for the end to smolder. By this time, they had reached the door and she leaned back against the wall, pulling in a deep drag. "You know," she commented to them, "I've been asked to do a lot of things by a lot of people, but I never thought I'd have to take orders from some knocked-up high school floozy."
He was shaking, anger at this woman who was so callously dismissing his sister coursing through him, but just as Puck opened his mouth, Kurt put a hand on his shoulder. Puck almost snapped at him, but recognized the look on Kurt's face. It may have appeared calm, but there was something about the tightness around his eyes and the set to his chin that was familiar and slightly terrifying. It was a look that had been turned on nearly every jock in William McKinley High School during their four years.
He was going to verbally slaughter this woman.
"Might I ask," he began, voice laced with a sweetness like straight Splenda, "what happened?"
The woman took another drag, then blew it out slowly. "I'm talking with the little self-entitled brat and she tells me that she works there part time after school. I'm thinking good, she's actually doing something instead of just sitting around and expecting everything to be handed to her on a silver platter. But then she starts talking about how she's her Uncle Burt's favorite and that's how she got the job, so obviously it's straight-up nepotism." The hand with the cigarette brushes her short graying hair out of her face. "And when I try to light up, because it's a garage, it's not like it could get any worse, she asks me to take it out here because it's bad for her baby. That's when I see that huge belly hiding behind the desk. I don't see why I should have to listen to some slut who can't even bother to use protection, let alone keep her legs closed, and banks on her family taking care of everything." Lips wrapped around the cylinder yet again. "Oh, and that little nameplate she's got in there says Puckerman. I know for a fact that's the name of the boy that got my friend Russell's little girl in a bad way a few years back. Obviously nothing good comes of that family."
Puck was ready to tear this woman's head off her shoulders, but Kurt said, "Give me just a moment," and disappeared into the garage. There was a few awkward minutes where the woman continued smoking and Puck fought his inner Hulk instincts. Then Kurt came out, smiling brightly. "Well, that's all settled."
"What?" she asked, taking one last drag and tossing the butt onto the ground. When she just left it, Kurt's smile slipped into a frown and he reached his foot forward to stomp it out.
"First of all, you really shouldn't smoke near a garage anyway." Puck recognized his tone as lecture mode. He'd lost track of the number of talks they'd had about laundry with Kurt using that voice. "Too many flammables. Even if she hadn't been pregnant, Sarah should have asked you to step outside."
The woman rolled her eyes. "Whatever. There should be a sign."
"There is," Kurt stated. "Inside. Right behind the desk." He gave the woman a split second to be embarrassed, then launched into bitch mode. "However, that doesn't change the fact that I have never punched a woman before, but you are making it very tempting."
Her eyes bugged out and her mouth hung open. "How dare you? What would your mother say? Didn't she ever tell you not to hit girls?"
"Well, I don't really know," Kurt admitted. "She died when I was young, so I don't remember everything very well. But from what my dad has told me about her, she would have punched you herself already."
She spluttered for a moment, but then Kurt's voice dropped dangerously low. "Now you'll listen to me. Sarah Puckerman is a sweet girl who works hard, gets good grades, loves her family, and looks out for them. She is her Uncle Burt's favorite because Burt Hummel doesn't have any real nieces or nephews. She is a friend of the family. She is working to help pay her medical bills, despite the fact that she is giving the baby up for adoption to a couple she knows well who can't have children on their own. And if you so much as think about the any of the Puckerman family in a negative context ever again, I will do whatever it takes to make your life a living hell." The woman looked shocked, but Kurt wasn't quite done. He grabbed her hand and slammed a set of keys into it. "Now take your fucking keys and get off this property. Find somewhere else to get your oil changed."
"Excuse me," she said, utterly indignant, "what right do you have to turn me away?"
He smiled that dangerous smile. "Kurt Hummel, at your service."
Confusion crossed her face, then she caught sight of the Hummel's Tire and Lube sign above the door and put two and two together. Instead of backing down like a smart person, she geared up for another round. "So what, you're the dad?"
Puck snorted indelicately. Maybe the thought of the love of his life and his sister having sex should gross him out, but the idea of Kurt just attempting to have sex with a woman was too funny. Kurt glared at him, but responded with, "Considering I'm half of the couple adopting the child, yes I am the dad. Or at least I will be a dad."
Somehow, she managed to pull off something resembling sympathy. "Oh, you and your wife can't have kids?"
This time Kurt snorted. "I don't know, wife." He looked at Puck, amused. "Can we have kids?"
"Not unless one of us magically grows a vagina overnight," Puck quipped. Now she looked like her head was going to explode. He upped the ante. "Noah Puckerman, ma'am. Why don't you give your buddy Russell Fabray a little update for me? Quinn's much better off without him, his granddaughter looks just like her mama and has her daddy's sense of humor. Oh, and is his head still up his ass? He should really get that looked at."
Back and forth her eyes travelled, one to the other and over to the door back to the boys. She was at a loss for words.
"I'm going to make this simple for you," Puck growled. "You're going to leave. You won't come back. And if you see my sister on the street or at the mall or in the grocery store, you will go the other way. She doesn't deserve your hate just because some asshole wouldn't take no for an answer." Nobody moved. "Now go."
The woman turned and strode away. Her car lights blinked as she unlocked it and wrenched the door open. The slam was a bit melodramatic. The rubber-burning peel out definitely was.
Puck smirked over at Kurt. "You know, watching you tear that woman apart was kinda hot."
Kurt rolled his eyes and pressed a quick kiss to Puck's lips. "Come on, Sarah's been on break for ten minutes."
"But you're the boss's kid," Puck complained as they opened the door.
"That doesn't mean I can just keep the em— SARAH?!"
Sarah was sitting in one of the waiting chairs, clutching her belly. "Hey guys. I would have gotten you, but my legs don't feel like working right now." She smiled tightly and looked down at the huge wet patch at the crotch of her sweats. "Pretty sure my water broke."
It was a flurry of activity after that. Kurt stuck his head into the main part of the garage and yelled, "We're taking Sarah to have our baby!" A few guys whooped their congratulations and Burt bustled into the room, fussing over Sarah as Puck carefully maneuvered her to the car. Kurt lay down some towels in the back, covering the whole bench, before getting into the driver's seat. The two Puckermans climbed into the back and Kurt took off. Burt faded in the rearview mirror, on the phone with the hospital so they could clear out an operating room for the C-section.
Despite Kurt driving fifteen over the speed limit, it would take a while for them to make it over to the hospital. Sarah's contractions were already coming hard, if spaced out. With every one, she squeezed Puck's hand until his fingers turned purple. He encouraged her to keep breathing. Her glare told him quite clearly to fuck off.
The car slowed down suddenly, accompanied by Kurt's violent and inventive cursing from the front seat. Just as Puck was about to ask what was going on, his phone rang, flashing Burt's name. Knowing he wouldn't call right then unless it was important, Puck answered.
"Tell Kurt to detour, there was a major accident on the shortest way."
"Yeah," Puck said, looking out the front window at the remains of five different cars, "we know. We just ran into it."
Burt let out a string of words that reminded Puck that no matter how different they seemed, the Hummel men were definitely related. "That's not all. The collision caused some major injuries to several people, so the hospital is already overflowing, especially the surgical units. It's going to be at least a five hour wait to get Sarah put under and prepped."
Puck felt the blood drain from his face as Sarah squeezed his hand again. "Burt, she's liable to take my hand off by the time we get to the hospital as is. You really want me to tell her that?"
"Better you than me," he chuckled, then sobered. "Be careful, though. If you think it's cutting it too close and either she or that baby is in danger, raise a fuss and get some local anesthetic and a butcher knife if you have to. Don't let their incompetence cost you those girls."
"Not if I can help it," Puck swore.
"Good. Now go back to holding her hand and being scared shitless. Only things I could do when Kurt was on the way."
"See you later, Grandpa." Puck hung up the phone and looked over at Sarah, who was taking deep breaths. "So that was Burt. He told us we should detour to avoid the accident."
"Really now?" Kurt snarked from the front seat.
Puck nodded silently, then waited for the next contraction. As it faded, he knew she wouldn't have the energy at the moment to retaliate when he said, "There's also a five hour minimum wait to get into an operating room."
"What?" came at him from two different directions: a sharp one from the front and a breathless one from his side.
"All the accident vics are in right now getting patched up," he explained. "They know all your info, so you're high up on the list, but they probably don't need to get you in until it's push or go under, so they've got the time."
Kurt finally pulled them free of the traffic slow down, but Sarah looked like she was about to cry. "But— this hurts. They're supposed to knock me out so it doesn't hurt."
"No, they're supposed to knock you out so they can take the baby out safely," Kurt reminded her.
She pouted. "I want drugs." Another contraction hit and Puck lost the feeling in his hand yet again.
"I know you do, munchkin. I do too," he muttered, keeping his voice so Kurt couldn't hear. "Once you're all cleared medically, I'm baking you the world's biggest batch of my special brownies as a thank you." She smiled gratefully and was even happier when they pulled into the hospital parking lot.
Puck learned a lot in the six and a half hours the three of them spent in a private room. The nurse who kept checking Sarah's dilation had a very interesting sexual relationship with her mother. Ruth and Carole were lying female dogs because labor hurt quite a lot. Kurt needed to go someplace very hot that wasn't in the tropics. And judging by Sarah's favorite nickname for him, Ruth never married their dad.
"Technically, that would make you a bastard, too," Kurt reminded her. He ducked as she threw the cup of ice chips at his head.
Antagonizing Sarah mostly distracted her from the pain, but it tended to be hazardous to them.
Kurt had gone for more ice chips a third time when the nurse announced that she was eight centimeters and a room had just opened up. The surgical team would be coming in a few minutes to take her. The fact that an anesthesiologist was part of that team made Sarah forget her problems with most doctors and smile through the pain.
"You know, Noah, I love you."
"Love you too, crazy," he murmured. Kurt entered the room, ready to duck again if needed.
"I love you too, Kurt. Not just cause you make Noah happy, but cause you're just you." The man in question looked confused, until Puck gave him a go-with-it look. Then he smiled.
"And I love you. We'll never be able to thank you enough for this."
"About that." The two men exchanged worried looks. Could she have changed her mind? "I'm really happy that you two are getting to raise a kid. But next time, you're squeezing it out yourselves." She smirked at her brother. "Noah, that can be your job since I'm pretty sure you're usually the catcher."
Puck couldn't help himself. He laughed. Only Sarah would suggest that he be the one to carry the next kid. "I don't really have the hips for it."
"I don't hear you denying your role in that relationship."
Puck's laughs turned to splutters as Kurt smirked next to him. Even if most thought is was the other way around, she was right, but he wasn't about to discuss his sex life with his little sister. He was saved from the potentially awkward conversation by the appearance of the surgical team.
"Can you turn her off? Please?" Puck joked.
"Not completely off, mind you," Kurt added. "Just make the yelling and the throwing things stop."
One of them hung a bag of something next to the bed and set up the IV. "Okay, so you've talked the process through with your OB-GYN, right?"
"Duh," Sarah said, "gimme the drugs."
The doctor, who Puck was hoping was the anesthesiologist, pricked her skin with the needle. "Give it about twenty seconds. Count back from one hundred if you need to."
She titled her head up and looked at Puck and Kurt. "I'll see you later, daddies. Mmkay?"
"Absolutely," Kurt confirmed.
"See you later. You'll need to give me tips for next time." Puck winked and she smiled loopily.
"Knew it," she slurred, then passed out.
They were ushered out of the room, told that it would be at least an hour before they had any news. The operation waiting room was down the hall, and they headed that way, notifying the nurses desk of their whereabouts for information. After a few minutes of sitting in uncomfortable chairs and staring at three year old magazines, they got up again, this time to look for something that passed as coffee. Eventually, they found the cafeteria, complete with premade sandwiches and bottles of Starbucks frappacinos. It was better than worrying on an empty stomach. They loaded up and took it back to the waiting room. A Jerry Springer rerun about a man cheating on his girlfriend with her brother occupied their time, distracting them superficially from what was going on behind the doors.
"Family for Puckerman?"
They both looked up at the doctor standing at the door to the operating wing. He approached them at their attention and shook their hands. "The baby is fine. A little small, but she's tough." Puck deflated, relief coursing through his veins. Their little girl was okay. "However, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but there were complications."
He went on to explain about placenta praevia, things they'd already heard, but then new information. Phrases like "nicked artery" and "extensive blood loss" and "we did everything we could." He walked away with a final apology, telling them where to find the nursery and when Sarah would be released.
Puck was barely aware of Kurt's hand in his. "Did— did he just— no. He can't have. Sarah's not— she can't be."
Kurt stepped in front of Puck and wiped at the tears that had somehow appeared on his cheeks. "She is. I'm so sorry, but she is." He wrapped his arms around Puck and buried his face in his neck. "Sarah's gone."