I'm sorry I haven't uploaded in a long time!

I went to go see breaking dawn part 1 last night, and while everyone was screaming about Taylor Lautner's abs, I was losing my shit when the Hunger Games trailer came on. Has anyone seen breaking dawn yet? It was better then the others, that's for sure. I didn't really like the breaking dawn novel, though. I'm just in love with Seth and Alice, that's all. Anyway, enjoy!

Kurt's hand almost squeezed the life out of Blaine's hand.

He clenched onto him for dear life, and even though his knuckles were going white and he was sure Blaine's hand lost circulation, he really needed something to hold onto while the long, metal syringe entered his skin.

Kurt always hated needles. They were just annoying and he hated looking at blood. Every time he went to the doctors, he'd just look away towards the wall as he felt a slight discomfort in his arm, and then it'd be over. But this needle was worse. It was injecting god knows what into his body by a female doctor. This needle was painful. He could feel the stone cold liquid swimming through his veins, freezing every cell in place and numbing his left arm so that he couldn't lift it. The sharp point of the syringe pierced through the white flesh, causing the area around it to turn pink.

Blaine was there, watching it all. He knew Kurt didn't like needles. He gripped Kurt's hand back gently, rubbing calming circles into his wrist with the back of his thumb. He wished there was something he could do to make the pain go away, but he also understood that this was supposed to help Kurt. He looked over at Blaine with pained eyes, his bottom lip being bitten and chewed on so that he wouldn't cry out in pain.

You're strong, Kurt, Kurt thought to himself. Don't cry and act like a baby.

"Alright, Kurt," said the female doctor, taking out the needle and placing in on a silver tray next to her. She picked up one more, and Blaine's eyes narrowed. How many drugs were they going to put into Kurt's body? Was this even healthy?

"One more, ad then we're finished for today," the doctor said kindly. "Deep breathe for me, please."

Kurt sighed and inhaled deeply, closing his eyes ad waiting for the pain and irritation to come back. Blaine tried his best to softly squeeze Kurt's hand without really breaking it. He couldn't even really feel the throbbing in his own hand from Kurt's tight grip because he was concentrating on much more important things.

The icy, frigid medicine began to flow back into Kurt's arm, and now he was sure he couldn't move it at all. He sighed when it was finally pulled out, Blaine still holding on tightly to the hand that he could still move and feel. Blaine pressed his lips very softly to the back of Kurt's hand when the doctor finally removed the needle, placed it back on the silver tray and removed her plastic gloves.

"Well done, Kurt," the doctor told him. She was sort of talking to him like how an adult talks to a four year old, but Kurt didn't seem to care.

"Is that the last one?" Blaine asked hopefully.

"That's the last one," the doctor clarified. "Kurt, try not to move that arm around so much, not until tomorrow at least."

I couldn't even if I tried, Kurt thought.

"I'll leave you and your cousin alone now," the doctor smiled. "I'm in the other room if one of you need anything." She passed behind the blue curtain and Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Your cousin," Blaine huffed. "We don't look anything alike."

"Well, she's always been a little off about everything," Kurt said, playing with Blaine's fingers. "Rachel came to visit last week and she thought she was my girlfriend."

Blaine laughed so loud he thought he might wake up someone next door. He lay his mop of curly hair down on the soft sheets while Kurt absentmindedly wove his fingers into them. Blaine loved it when Kurt did this. It's not everyday that you get to have a head massage, right?

"How do you feel?" Blaine asked. "I'm sorry that it hurts so much."

"I feel fine," Kurt shrugged, "And don't worry, Blaine. You have nothing to be sorry for. Remember when I said I didn't want you to feel bad for me? The only thing worse than me hurting is you."

"I just wish there was a way it could be better," Blaine mumbled.

"There is," Kurt smiled, "You just being here makes my day."

LATER THAT NIGHT

It was late when Blaine got home. He didn't mean to get home that late, but as sappy and drippy as it sounded, Blaine made sure that every time he visited, he'd stay and wait for Kurt to fall asleep. Mostly it was because Kurt kept persuading him to stay no matter what the time was, and of course, Blaine couldn't resist. But there was an odd calming effect that it had on Blaine, knowing that Kurt was sound asleep, hopefully dreaming about sweet things instead of hanging around beeping machines and needles all day. He hoped it didn't sound Edward Cullen- esque, because it wasn't like he waited in the dark hours of the night watching Kurt sleep. Just seeing his eyelashes flutter close after trying to battle with them to keep them open, the soft sigh he made when he settled into his pillow, and the drowsy "g'night" he muttered before drifting off…it was reassuring.

Blaine turned on the kitchen light to grab himself a glass of orange juice before heading up to bed. As he was pouring the sunset liquid into the cup, he heard faint voices coming from down the hallway. He set the glass down and identified two voices: one was his mother, and the other was a voice he would recognize anywhere, even in a pitch black room with ear muffs and a blindfold on. And when he moved into the hallway and saw the man dressed in a suit, talking to his mother, he knew right away who it was.

"Dad," Blaine said, although it came out sounding like a question.

"Hello, Blaine," Blaine's father, a tall man dressed to the nines with gelled back hair and tired eyes said in a deep voice. "It's been a while."

Blaine looked straight at his mom, telling her with his eyes what is he doing here?

He didn't realize he'd said it out loud. Blaine's father looked a little offended, but still tried to look happy to see his son. "Nice to see you too, son."

"Come, let's talk," Blaine's mother sighed, putting a hand on her son's back and manoeuvring him out the hallway and into the living room.

"What is he doing here?" Blaine asked again, crossing his arms. He'd never gotten along with his dad, and he only really called on holidays, birthdays and weddings (which were full of awkward stories and silence.)

"Be nice, Blaine," his mother scoffed. "Your father's been concerned."

"About what? I haven't done anything illegal. All my bones are still here and I didn't crash a car. I don't see why he has to be here unless hell breaks loose."

Blaine's mother gave him a glare. "Blaine, your father and I have been discussing things lately-"

"Since when?" Blaine interrupted.

"- and I know you're probably going to be really upset, but he's your father and I had to keep him updated. I told him about Kurt."

"What exactly did you tell him about Kurt?" Blaine's eyes were wide now, his eyebrows arched.

"About how much you care about him and about how happy you are with him," she said. "And…that he'd in the hospital."

Now Blaine was really upset. "You told him about my boyfriend's sickness?"

"I had too, Blaine. I'm sorry if this makes you upset…you know how much I approve of Kurt-"

"But he doesn't! He's never approved of me!" Blaine almost yelled. How could his mother do this?

"He does, actually," Blaine's father's voice came from the back of the room. They two turned to face him, slowly coming into the room. "Can I talk to him for a minute alone, Angela? This sort of needs to be private."

Blaine sat on top of the sofa's arm while he crossed his arms and waited to hear what his dad had to say. Blaine wanted t laugh in his face and get up to leave. But if he did, his mother would probably never forgive him.

Blaine's father, Charles, shifted uncomfortably. "How's school been?"

"Fine," Blaine shot back. "Work?"

"It's been great," Charles replied. He knew this wasn't going to be easy.

"So, I heard you were in the, uh, school musical. That's pretty exciting, I wish I'd known so that I could've come and watched."

Blaine snorted. "Yeah, it was really great. My boyfriend Kurt asked me to try out for the lead and then, voila!" Blaine used extra emphasis on the word boyfriend and almost sarcastically said the last part of the sentence.

Charles sighed. "I'm just going to lay this out on the table. I'm sorry I haven't been there lately, Blaine. And I know I came off really strong about the whole being gay thing."

"Sure did," Blaine said through gritted teeth. "Did you come here to gloat? I bet you're thrilled that my boyfriend has cancer." He spat out the last word like acid.

Charles' face went very serious. "Of course I'm not thrilled about that, Blaine. That is the least most thrilling thing to hear about in the world.

Blaine looked confused. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I'm sorry that we never had a close bond, and that I never really welcomed you in with open arms."

When Blaine just stood as still as a statue, Charles went on.

"I was wrong to leave you and your mother that way. I know you won't forgive me, but I'm just here to tell you I'm here to help with anything that needs help with."

There was a lump in Blaine's throat, so big that it as almost painful. "What do you mean?"

Charles sighed. "I'm saying that as long as your boyfriend needs to stay in the hospital, no matter how much it costs to keep him there, I'll make sure everything gets paid for. His family have probably been paying his medical bills for years now. Since my company's been paying a lot more often, I've had nothing to do with everything I'm making."

That's when the tears started spilling down Blaine's cheeks. "Why are you doing this? I thought you hated me. I thought you hated everything about me and you'd never want me to be your son because of what I am."

Charles moved in and placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "I was wrong, son, and I am more sorry that you could ever know. It's terrible about what happened to Kurt, and thinking that maybe one day something like this could happen to you or me…it made me realize how lucky I am to even have a son. So I promise from now on, I'm going to try my best to support everything you do, and I can guarantee that he can stay in the hospital for as long as he needs it."

Blaine couldn't believe it. After all these years of thinking his dad hated him, and now…he was finally being accepted. Being treated like a son and not like some freak who liked boys. Because that's not what Blaine was, and now his voice was about to close off so he needed to speak now.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I promise."

Promise was good enough for him, and he did something he hadn't done in forever- he collapsed into his father's arms and sobbed into his shoulder, like a young child. It was strange, hugging someone you hadn't seen in years, but it felt like that's what was meant to happen in that moment.

"Thank you," Blaine managed to get out his voice breaking several times, "Thank you."

Charles patted his only son's back firmly, reassuring that he was really there and it wasn't some crazy dream. "I love you, son."

"I love you too, dad," Blaine sniffed. He didn't feel like a baby in that moment, crying into his dad's thick blazer. Instead, he felt like a grown man who was finally free of every burden holding him back. The only person he seeked love from finally just told him so, and now the only person he ever truly loved was going to get the proper care he needed for as long as he was required too. Things would never be perfect right now between Charles and Blaine, they both knew that. The'd need a lot of things to patch up before they could have a real bond. But for now, this was enough. Son and father, finally at peace.