HERE'S THE CHAPTER YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR! Sorry about the wait, guys! I have way too many fiches, plus school (grr) but I promise regular updates for this story for the next month or so. I feel really bad about not updating this one :'( You guys enjoy this. I know I did.
Disclaimer: - These still exist?
The next two weeks were a blur for Rory, what with Glee practice and West Side Story rehearsals. He didn't get a chance to get much more than a 'hi' out of his dads. West Side Story came and went (with both Blaine and Kurt looking blissed out the day after opening night and Blaine with a bit of a limp; Rory didn't need or want to know) and next Rory knew, he was in a t-shirt and shorts, about to start a game of dodgeball. Rory peeked around the locker rooms, gasping when he saw Blaine was the only one there. Now's your chance. Man up, you're a Hummel-Anderson and you've got Lopez blood in your veins. Grow a set!
"Hey, Blaine! Can I talk t'you for a sec?" Rory said shyly. Blaine gave him a smile. "Sure, Rory. Everything ok?" Blaine asked as Rory led him out to under the bleachers. Rory took a shaky breath, turning to face Blaine. Now or never, Rory. Courage.
"This- this is gonna sound insane, but- I need to tell you. I'm not crazy!" Rory added in the last part, knowing that with his erratic breathing and wide eyed look he really did look crazy. Blaine gave him a confused look.
"O-kay?" Blaine said. Rory mumbled something. "What?"
"You're my Papa," Rory repeated. Blaine's eyebrows shot up and his jaw dropped. He stared at Rory for a few minutes before moving his lips as if to say something before closing his mouth, swallowing, and opening it again.
"What?" Blaine asked again.
"I'm your son," Rory pressed his lips together nervously as Blaine stared at him, completely frozen.
"Wha- you can't be- is this some kind of joke?" Blaine frowned, glaring at Rory. Rory teared up, sniffling and taking his phone out (it was solar-powered, like most phones in the future, and thank Cheesus for that, or he wouldn't be able to prove it). Once he reached the photos folder, he handed it to Blaine, watching the other boy scroll through them. Blaine's eyes widened and he paused at a picture of Kurt holding Rory and Blaine holding Toronto, all of them standing in front of the large dinosaur at the entrance of the AMNH. Rory was no older than six and Toronto was four. Kurt and Blaine's wedding rings shone in the harsh light of the museum. Blaine's eyes shone as he continued to scroll through the pictures, laughing when he saw himself and a twelve year old Rory dressed as Jedi knights, a ten year old Toronto struggling with his Darth Vader helmet.
"You're a world famous singer, Papa. And Daddy's on Broadway. After Daddy's premiere night you as'ed him to marry you. Three years after that, Mama offered to be a surrogate and that's how I came into existence. Two years la'er Mama gave birth to Toronto. You've been married for twenty years, but right before I came here-" Rory paused. Blaine's eyes glittered with unshed tears.
"What happened?" Blaine's voice trembled as he looked at a picture of a grumpy five year old rory and a three year old Toronto, both of them sitting with their arms crossed and with petulant pouts.
"You and Daddy had a fight and-" Rory hiccuped. "-Daddy and you are gettin' a divorce. I just- I miss you, Papa." Rory was bawling, holding himself until Blaine reached out and hugged him, rocking him. They stayed like this until Rory's breathing evened. "You'd always rock me when I had nightmares." Blaine wiped away Rory's tears (and a few of his own), sniffling.
"Holy shit. Wow," Blaine chuckled, shaking his head softly. "I don't know if I should hug you, be happy, or cry." Rory laughed at this.
"Hugs are nice," Rory said.
"You're definitely my son," Blaine laughed, pulling Rory in for a tight hug. "So, who are whose biological parents?"
"Kurt and Santana are mine and You and Santana are Tory's," Rory replied. They heard something clatter to the floor, both turning to find Santana gaping at them, tape recorder on the floor.
"Um, how much of that did you hear?" Blaine asked, picking up the tape recorder.
"All of it! Are you fucking high? Do you actually believe him, Anderson?" Santana screeched. She ran off, leaving Rory and Blaine together.
"We should- we should go," Blaine gestured for Rory to follow him, leading him towards the centre of the court. Rory groaned, standing next to Uncle Puck and slipping into the clueless irish kid act.
"'Scuse me! I've never heard of this game of dodging' balls before. What's the rules?" Rory asked, trying to ignore the glare Santana sent in his direction.
"Don't die," Uncle Puck said. Blaine shot Rory a sympathetic smile, shrugging before standing next to Kurt, who was looking plenty annoyed. The game was over quickly, and Rory ran up to Finn.
"Boy, oh boy, that was a cracker," he said, about to breathe a sigh of relief when Santana sent the first ball in his direction. He curled up on the floor as the girls, including Sugar, bombarded him until he bled and his body pulsed with pain.
"Stop it! Stop it! For god's sake, he's bleeding! Maybe that's how the others treat us around here. We don't do this to each other. We're better than this," Kurt placed a hand on Rory's back and Rory tried hard to stem the flow of tears.
"Ugh, calm down, granma," Santana snarled.
"This game is over," Kurt took Rory with him, leading him to the nurse. Out of the corner of his eye, Rory saw Blaine run after Santana.
"Santana! Wait up!," the shorter boy rushed, stopping to catch his breath when the latina slowed down.
"What do you want, sixteen and pregnant?" Santana snapped. Blaine held out the tape recorder.
"You dropped this," he gave her a sympathetic look. She slapped it out of his hand, stalking off. Blaine sighed, wandering off to find Rory and Kurt. Once he was gone, Santana snuck back, snatching up the tape recorder and disappearing.
It kinda explains the canon stuff, doesn't it? Well, who liked it? (We'll get a lot more Toronto Hummel-Anderson later on guys). 2, 4, 6, 8, heard you like to review… (I know it doesn't rhyme, just go with it