A/N: So, I received 1 review on the previous chapter – that's okay, I understand that it's not every chapter which is likable. I know that from myself, I don't like every chapter I read (both my own stories and other peoples), and I often forget to review, but please do tell me if there's something that you don't like, something that you want to see happen (or something that you will absolutely consider murdering me for if I do). Anyway, this is something worth celebrating; never before have I ever written more than 7 chapters (YAY) – I've either given up on the story or life just got in the way. Anyway, enjoy!

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12 weeks

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Chapter Eight

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He felt weak once he was pulled out from the ambulance. His head lolled to the side from the impact, when the gurney hit the ground hard. The nurses and the paramedics worked together and spun the gurney around, before they started rushing down the white corridor. Kurt's head swayed as he tried to put it to an up-front position and once he'd succeeded, he tried to keep it there, but he found it hard to do so.

He felt poking, and with a quick glance of the eyes he noticed a young man walking next to his head, pushing the gurney. "Twenty:seven-year old pregnant male suffering from possible placental abruption. He's in active labor. Contractions are far apart, probably fifteen minutes at average." It was the paramedic, who had checked him over at Central Park.

"What's his ABCs?" the young male next to him asked. Kurt looked up at him as he was wheeled down the hallway.

The paramedics answered him in a rushed voice, but Kurt didn't understand half of it. He moved his eyes away from the young nurse, and once again looked straight up. He blinked as the light from the lambs hit him, but he continued focussing on them: he kept his eyes to the ceiling, counting how many lights was there before he reached the emergency room. Twelve. "I want a cardiac monitor and a pulse oximeter," it was a female voice to his left, but Kurt didn't move his eyes to see what she looked like.

He could feel his mouth mumbling "please let them be alright," almost chanting the words over and over again, but none of the doctors and nurses around him seemed to notice. He couldn't move due to being strapped down, when the paramedics had first arrived at the park. He wanted to hold his stomach, to rub it and protect it.

"What's his due date?" the nurse to the right asked.

Kurt answered in a low whisper, but once again they seemed to not register that he'd spoken. He couldn't decide whether if they were ignoring him, or maybe they didn't hear what he was saying.

"Who called him in?"

The paramedics answered briefly. "A young man, Ashley Greenday. He stayed at the park due to parking, but he would contact his relatives," he said the last thing, indicating Kurt.

"How much blood has he lost so far?" asked the female voice, just before they turned right and entered one of the emergency rooms. Someone answered that he'd lost sixteen ounces of blood, but the amount was not important to Kurt and so he didn't react to the volume of his blood loss. He could feel the nurses and the doctors unstrap him from the gurney and grab hold of the blanket he was placed on. "On my count – one, two, three, lift!" Kurt grunted from the pressure of being lifted and placed on the hospital stand. "Where's the cardiac monitor?"

"It's coming right up," answered the male nurse, and rushed around Kurt, walking towards his feet. "Emily, I need a scissor." Another young nurse, this time a young, blond one nodded and grabbed one from the shelf. She pulled it from its sterilization pack and handed it to her colleague. The swing-doors opened and a young African-American man walked in with the cardiac monitor.

"Prep him up," the doctor ordered. She had steadied Kurt's head and was shining light into Kurt's eyes, checking for his orbital vitals. "Doug, check his vitals and his cervix."

The male nurse, Doug, nodded, "on it," he noted and peeled the cut-off pants from Kurt's body. "Emily, give him eighty percent oxygen," he didn't look up as he placed a green cloth between the baby swell and Kurt's chest, cutting off the patient's view of his belly. Kurt felt the mask being placed over his nose and mouth, before a hand thrust underneath him. He could feel a strand being strapped around him; his shirt was unbuttoned and revealed his stomach, although Kurt couldn't see it. "The cardiac monitor has been strapped in place."

"Vitals up," said the blond nurse. She was softly holding Kurt's hand, after placing the heart-monitor on his chest. "One-twelve over seventy."

The doctor nodded, "Put him in the left lateral recumbent position. What's the fetus heart heartbeat?".

Doug shook his head, waiting for the heartbeat to register. And once it did, his eyes widened and he turned towards Kurt with his mouth slightly agape.

The doctor looked up, confused about why her question's answer was prolonged, but she too stopped in her tracks, when the heartbeats of not one baby, but at least four babies filled the room. "Multiples?" she asked. It was rhetorical, and no one answered it. "I want the ultrasound scanner in here asap," she ordered immediately. She moved around and squatted down in front of the scared father's face. "Sir." Kurt's lips was moving, and she tried her hardest to listen in on what he was whispering, but he couldn't detect any understandable word, and so instead she reached out and touched his cheek, relieved when he reacted to it. His intonations stopped and he opened his eyes. "My name is Doctor Hale," she said. "Can you tell me yours?"

He nodded, and with heavy arms he reached to remove the oxygen mask. "K-" he coughed, "Kurt Hummel-Anderson." Once again his reply was low, but the doctor seemed to have heard and she nodded.

"Kurt," she knew that using his first name in situations like these made most patients feel at ease, and so she stepped down from professionalism, and instead did what was best for the patient. "Can you tell me how many babies you're expecting?"

She waited as patiently for the answer as one could in a hectic situation, but Kurt didn't seem to be responding. "Doctor." Doctor Hale looked up, searching for who had spoken. "His hands." It was the blond nurse, Emily. Doctor Hale looked down towards Kurt's hands and realization kicked in. His right hand outstretched all five fingers and the left one only a single finger. "Sextuplets. Okay," she gathered her nurses attention and further ordered, "he hasn't suffered from miscarriage as of so far, so treat it as preterm labor. Roll him back into orsal recumbent."

The nurses around her tensed at the discernment, "I'll page doctor Mayer," said Doug and quickly exited the door once again, while two other nurses turned changed his laying position, and he once again found himself laying flat on his back.

"Lisa, could your prepare a shot of seventeen-hydroxyprogesterone caproate for Kurt please." It wasn't a request, it was an order. "The patient is in preterm labor," doctor Hale concluded. "We need to save these babies."

– – – – – – – – – –

Cooper barely parked the Navigator within the white parking-lines once they finally reached the hospital. Traffic had taken up most of their travel time, but a bit of speeding from Cooper's side meant that the drive from the house in Warwick took no more than two hours. As soon as the car stopped, Blaine jumped out from it and ran, forgetting to shut the car door behind him. He ran through the automatic door of the hospital, and went to the reception immediately. He was frantic, and his panting where irregular. "My boyfriend, he- you've got to help me. Oh god," he cried out. "Please tell me that he's okay."

The elderly lady behind the desk raised both brows in impatience, yet with a slightly worried expression. "Sir," her voice was strained and tired after a nine-hour schedule. Only two more hours and he'd be on her way home to her two children. "Please fill out this form and a doctor will be with you as soon as possible."

"No, no, you don't understand," Blaine pushed the chart away while continuously shaking his head. "My boyfriend's here." he looked over his shoulder, when he felt pressure against it – it was Cooper. He must've parked the car properly by now and payed for the parking fee.

"We're here to see a Kurt Hummel-Anderson."

The young woman looked at the two men, a skeptical look on her tired features. "May I ask your relation to Mr. Hummel-Anderson?"

Blaine, being too panicked about the situation and too out of it to even form reliable sentences, let Cooper handle the talking with a dejected expression covering his face. It made him look twenty years older, but it wasn't something he worried about. All he could think about was Kurt and the babies. And sometimes the 'what if' popped into his mind, and he thought back to the conversation they'd had with their gynecologist. The talk about reduction. Was this happening as a result of multiples? He thought to himself. Would we be here -at the hospital – if we had gone through with the reduction? He shook his head, mad at himself for even thinking so. He didn't even know why Kurt was at the hospital, but he had a grave feeling that it had something to do with the babies. He was vaguely aware of his surroundings; Cooper explaining his relation to Kurt sounded off. As if Cooper was telling the woman through a cup, or as if they were underwater. Everything was spinning...

"Woa, there," the sound came back full force, and he recognized the voice to be Cooper's. "Take it easy, that's it. Put your head between your legs. That's it – keep on breathing."

"What happened?" Blaine felt weaker than normal. His head was spinning, but his senses were slowly coming back. The black and white dots started to dissolve and his vision became clearer. Cooper, who was squatting down in front of him, raised one side of his mouth, before he explained that he'd started swaggering once the receptionist had told them that Kurt was under observation and that she'd contact a doctor regarding visitation. "I need to see him."

Cooper sighed. "I know, but we'll know more about what happened once Jade, the nice young lady behind the desk, has spoken to his doctor." The older brother helped Blaine stand on his legs once more, still a little wobbly, and they both sat down in the waiting room chairs. Blaine wiggled a bit, disliking the uncomfortableness that they brought.

Blaine could only nod, and they sat in a few silent minutes, before he remembered. "Where's Ashley?"

"Who?"

"The guy who called me. He's Kurt's assistant; Ashley Greenland or something. I don't know his name, I don't even know how he looks like." He flailed his arms in the air, frustrated and mad at the situation. "I-" he broke off the sentence when he noticed an elderly woman, dressed in a white gown and a stethoscope around her neck. He quickly rose from his chair, Cooper not too far behind, and walked up to the doctor.

The doctor spoke before Blaine had a chance to do so. "Are you here for Kurt Hummel-Anderson?" Blaine could only nod as a response, suddenly feeling a huge lump form in his throat, cutting off almost all air to his brain and lungs. "Come with me this way." Blaine and Cooper obediently followed the doctor, and took the elevator up two floors, before the entered a new hallway. They walked down the white hallway, while the doctor explained the condition of Kurt and their six babies. "What Kurt experienced was a mixture of stress combined with an early labor."

"Early labor!"

"Yes, early labor. The womb started contracting due to stress. If the stress-level is high enough, the body starts to shut down temporarily, but before it shuts down it exposes whatever unnatural, in this case the babies."

"Oh god," Blaine felt sick. He stopped in the middle of the hallway, one hand on his stomach and the other covering his mouth. Premature labor. "Oh god, Coop." Cooper took stand beside his younger brother, and wrapped his arms around him, helping Blaine to stand steady.

The doctor had stopped too, knowing that this was a lot to take in for the young father-to-be. "Once we received Mr. Hummel-Anderson, he'd stopped bleeding, which is a good sign, especially since nothing bodily has passed through the birth canal."

At this Blaine peeked up, and though he looked a little better than he did just a second ago, he was still deathly pale and with a sickly glow to him. "What does that mean?" his voice was weak; weaker than Cooper had ever heard it before. Weaker than it had been after the Sadie Hawkins nearly a decade ago. The trio started walking again.

"We checked for heartbeats on the ultra-screen," said the elderly doctor. She looked down on the chart in her hands, and her facial expression changed to one of a more surprised one. "We found seven heartbeats on the monitor. Six, strong baby heartbeats and one healthy heartbeat belonging to the father." She stopped in front of a white door with a huge window. "He's in here, waiting for you."

Blaine looked shocked to say the least. "So, he's fine?"

"I wouldn't say fine. He's not out of the woods just yet, but he's better than he was when we first got him, yes." The doctor smiled at Blaine's reaction.

"And the babies?"

"Like I said, they're not out of the woods, but considering the situation, they're fine. When Kurt first came in, he was in active labor, but we managed to stop the contractions. He has to stay here for observation probably for the next four to seven days before he can be discharged." She raised her hand towards the door. "Let's go in, shall we?"

Blaine glinted through the window before he slowly opened the door. Kurt lay resting against a bed; he was dressed in a hospital gown, which inwardly made Blaine smirk – he knew how much Kurt hated those. The smile upon Kurt's face, when he noticed Blaine standing in the doorway, brightened the otherwise cloudy mood the younger man was in. "Hi," he said, his voice raspy. He'd been crying, Blaine could tell.

"Hi."

"How are you?"

Blaine let out a sniffly laugh, and entered the room with hesitant steps. "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?"

"Maybe," Kurt said. He reached his right hand out; this was the first time Blaine noticed that Kurt wasn't unhooked. In his hand sat a small IV-drop and a tube, which followed all the way up to a bag. Saltwater, stood in white letters on the bag. His eyes quickly roamed Kurt's other body-parts, and was displeased to see that a heart-monitor was taped to his chest, and a band – much like a belt – was strapped across his belly. He sighed and took a hold of Kurt's hand once he was close enough to do so. "You don't look to good yourself."

"I never said that you looked bad," Blaine responded tearfully, yet a smile was now permanently on his lips. Kurt was okay, and so was the babies. All of them – nothing had happened. They were still there, all six of them; all with strong heartbeats.

"Of course I don't look bad. I might be in a gown, but I am working it." They both laughed, unbeknown to the two other people in the room.

Cooper and the doctor slowly exited the room and took stand outside the window. The older Anderson stood with cross-arms looking relieved. He knew that he had to call Anna-Louise later; he'd phoned her on the way to the hospital, letting her know that he would be home later on. He knew that she was worried about Kurt – the two of them had a special bond, both dating an Anderson brother, and they felt like they could share things with each other – things they couldn't share with anyone else. "Any procedures he should follow once he's been discharged?"

Doctor Hale wasn't surprised that it was the older brother who asked all the question. He shook his head, "nothing out of the ordinary. What he experienced was a scare, but as long as he takes it easy and doesn't do any heavy lifting he should be fine. Young Mr. Hummel-Anderson told me that he's been working on a normal schedule, which I can't understand. Surely his doctor has told him not to do so – working, especially in a stress-filled environment, is something which can trigger premature labor."

"I'm sure she's told him," Cooper assured. "Kurt's a very ambitious young man."

"Well, he has to listen to her. I recommend bed-rest for the following weeks, and then only light work, although I'd like to see him take a temporary paternity leave until the babies have been delivered."

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13 weeks

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Tony Anderson looked up when he heard three knocks against his oak-tree door. He had expected his youngest son for a while, not just these last few days, with Kurt being admitted to the hospital, but ever since they found out that they were pregnant. "Come in." He took off his glasses, folded them and placed them neatly next to his 'Law of America'. He braided his fingers with each other on the table and gave Blaine a smile. "You're here to resign, aren't you?"

"How'd you know?" Blaine asked. He took a seat in one of his father's chairs and crossed his legs.

"A father just knows," Tony said. "Scotch?"

Blaine shook his head, no. "Actually, I'm not here to resign, or not exactly."

"I understand," Tony nodded and poured himself a cup of his own. He put the lid back on the bottle, and lifted the glass to his nose, inhaling its scent. "Argh," he gushed, tasting it barely as it wetted his lips. He smacked his lips at the delicious burning sensation of the liquid. "As a father, I can understand your intentions."

"I want to be with Kurt. He needs me."

"Ay," said the father. "He does, and I can say nothing more than we'll miss you, but as the director of this company I'll do my best to talk you out of this." He could tell that Blaine was about to cut in, so he quickly continued. "You just won your case – a big one, filled with media attention and what not, and not to mention that this was your very first case and the client chose you. You're a highly sought after lawyer, and if you resign now, if you merely disappear for a while, those deeds will be remembered, but I cannot assure you that everyone will see this an act of fatherly love towards his unborn children. Some clients will see it as weakness, prosecutors will use it against you, claiming this to be your imperfectness. It's a devious world, Blaine."

Blaine nodded, "I know," he said. He felt his head hanging slightly, he did know that. All his life he'd dreamed of becoming a lawyer, not because he looked up to his father and wanted to be like him, but because he could see all the good the job came with. But he'd also seen what it could do to a family, being a lawyer, saving other families. How it could dissolve a marriage and Blaine was not about to let that happen to him and Kurt, married or not.

"I need you to think about this, really think and then come back and tell me what your decision is."

"I don't need to do that, father," Blaine said, his jaw firm. "I've already talked to Cooper and Mr. Benton. Cooper's agreed to take over the case. Both senior and junior Mr. Bentons are fathers and they could fully understand my decision to withdraw from the case and take on minor cases – cases, which can be solved primarily from home."

Tony nodded after a moment. "If that's your decision, you can go and unpack your office."

"Are you sacking me?" Blaine asked, baffled about his father's words. He'd expected him to be hurt and angry, maybe a little resentful regarding Blaine withdrawing, but he hadn't expected him to react in this motion.

"No," the elderly gentleman shook his head. He may not be the perfect father, or a good on at all, but he valued family higher than anything else. And family in business was something he approved off. "I am promoting you. I'm old, Blaine. Your mother and I had you both at a late age, and we've both lived long lives. It's getting harder running this company and while I know that it is rightfully Cooper's to inherit, I am promoting you to be my assistant. I don't need much help, mostly managing paperworks and all the finances, but the paycheck is higher. A paycheck I understand you guys need?"

Blaine didn't know what to say. He smiled, no laughed and hurried around the desk, hugging his father. "Thank you."

– – – – – – – – – –

Kurt tilted his head to the side, glancing at the small object peaking from Blaine's back pocket. It was a square object, like a box, covered in blue velvet. "Hmm," he said, but still couldn't figure out what it was, so he decided to voice his wonderings. "What's that?"

Blaine, who had bent down, packing both of their belongings – ready to leave the hospital, turned around looking perplexed. "What's what?"

"That thing," Kurt pointed, "in your pocket."

Blaine rose and pressed his hands against his pockets. He frowned when he felt nothing and shrugged his left shoulder. "There's nothing in my pockets, sweetie."

A soft shake of his head, stopped Blaine from turning around to continue packing. "Not in your front pockets."

Blaine remained silent as his right hand reached behind him and touched the protruding pocket. He felt the shaping of the ring-box, and gulped. "That's nothing," he whispered and pressed the box further down into the pocket, hiding it. He turned around and folded one of Kurt's blue silk-shirts, stroking it.

"Of course it's not nothing, Blaine," his voice was back to his normal pitch. "I can see it's shape through your jeans."

"Well, it doesn't matter anymore."

Kurt's mouth formed a small 'o', before he bit down on his lower lip. He knew that Blaine hated it when he did that, but it was a hard-broken habit of his. "Can I see it?"

"No."

Kurt was slightly shocked at the harsh tone in Blaine's voice, and felt slightly hurt by it, though he didn't know if he was reacting like this due to truly feeling hurt, or because of hormones. Probably the latter, but that didn't matter at the moment. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want you to know this way."

"What's wrong with this way?"

Blaine sighed, yet kept his back to Kurt. He slowly reached back again and grabbed the small box, but instead of hiding it even further, he pulled it from his back pocket and hid it in his hands. He opened it, well knowing that Kurt couldn't see its contains, staring at the ring. "I had planned to give it to you that night," he said in a soft voice. "I had planned everything, it was the most romantic way of asking you I could possible think of. I don't want you to know while we're here, in this hospital." He closed the box and rose. When he turned around, he looked into Kurt's tear-filled eyes and reached out. In his hand was the small box.

Kurt took the box, but he didn't open it. "Do you not want me to see it?"

Initially Blaine would've shook his head, but he did want Kurt to see it. "You can see it. It doesn't matter anymore."

"I won't open it if you don't want me to."

"But I do," Blaine argued – not harshly, just determined. He did want Kurt to open it, because he did want to ask Kurt to marry him. To be his, and only his, until death do them part. It was for Kurt that he'd tried to come up with a romantic way of asking, because he knew that Kurt wanted that. He knew that Kurt would always look back on this moment, and said moment shouldn't be in a hospital. "I just, I wanted it to be romantic."

Kurt nodded. He padded the spot next to him, and waited for Blaine to notice the gesture and take a seat next to him. "I'm guessing this is a ring?"

"'t is," Blaine said shuffling a bit. "I was going to propose to you, but now.."

Kurt exhaled deeply, his eyes falling to the velvet box in his hands. He weighed it a bit in his hand, contemplating on what to do next. "Tell me why you love me."

"I love you," Blaine started, and though he had a million things to reply to that question, he still had to stop and think about it. "I love you because you're carrying my children. Our children, and because I know that you're going to be the most amazing father in the entire world. I love you because you're beautiful and sweet and one of a kind and because you won't take shit from no one. I don't know anyone stronger than you, and it turns me on in here." He banked a fisted hand against his heart. "But mostly I love you because you somehow, and it still amazes me everyday, you found a place in your heart to love me."

Kurt smiled: three tears rolled down his cheek. Two on his right side, one on his left. He wiped away the tears once they'd reached his chin. "And that's why," he said and opened the box, revealing the round golden ring, "my answer is yes."

– – – – – – – – – –

Here it is – look, everything turned out to be okay (for now – mwhaha). I promise you I am a sucker for tragic, and the babies aren't safe just yet. Kurt's only just into his second trimester and while that for a person carrying only one baby means, for the most, safety, Kurt's carrying six and the entire pregnancy is a battle for him and the mini-me's. Please remember to review – it fills my heart with love when you guys do. Also, I am campaigning to have at least 100 followers (I am in my 90's, which is a record in it self – thank you to everyone following, favoring, reviewing or merely reading!)

Thank you for reading!

Simone