Happy Saturday!

I hope you are having a wonderful weekend :)

As usual, I need to thank you all for the wonderful reviews and comments on the last chapter. If you liked Kurt and Blaine's dynamic in the last one, then I think you will enjoy this one as well!

I own nothing!

If God could sing, She would have the voice of Mercedes Jones.

Blaine sat in a small table in a dark corner of the jazz club, Daniel on his left, and Sam on his right. He couldn't take his eyes off this woman. She was a beast on stage. He could see exactly why Sam was falling head over heels for her. Her raw talent, her breathtaking personality, and her dazzling looks made her irresistible. If Blaine hadn't been a perfect gold star gay, he would have been crazy for her.

When she finished her performance of Ain't No Way, Blaine clapped so hard his hands hurt. There were a few tears pooling in his eyes. She was powerful.

Still, no one clapped or cheered as loudly as Sam, who leaned a little into Blaine's side and whispered in his ear: "I'm going to marry that woman."

Blaine hoped he would.

Mercedes, in an elegant sequined blue gown, grinned broadly. "Thank you. Thank you so much for coming. This next song is dedicated to Sam. It's also by Aretha, because the Queen always says it best."

The first chords of Natural Woman began playing, and Sam's smile could have shined a spotlight on Mercedes. Blaine could see how in love they were already, how amazing they were for each other. It sent a warm sensation down his spine. He wished he could…

Daniel touched his hand, interrupting his line of thought, and Blaine had almost forgotten he was there. "Hey. You've been quiet tonight. Is everything okay?"

Blaine couldn't stop thinking about his parents visiting tomorrow. The whole week had been difficult. He had been distracted and worried, and he wasn't ready for whatever was about to happen. What if they wanted to fight him for custody? Could they do that? Should Blaine call a lawyer?

But he didn't want to talk to Daniel about it. He hadn't even talked much to him about Cooper, just a few isolated comments here and there. But he wasn't ready to empty his soul like that, to put down his burden and share it with him.

"I'm just mesmerized by Mercedes," Blaine replied, giving him a reassuring smile. "Isn't she wonderful?"

"She is," Daniel agreed. "Jazz has never been my thing, but now I don't think I can listen to anything else."

Blaine turned his eyes back to the stage. He wasn't in the mood for conversation. He was in the mood for music. Music that broke his heart into a million pieces and mended it right back, that nursed it back to health and filled it with every sensation and feeling the human heart was able to experience.

Daniel frowned. Blaine was usually open, easy for conversation, charming and kind. Tonight, he was closed off, distant. "Are you sure everything's fine? Maybe we can go out for a moment, get some fresh air, talk."

No, Blaine wanted to stay right here. Possibly all through Sunday, until Monday morning. That way, he wouldn't have to face his father and mother. Still, he managed another smile. "I promise. It's fine. It was just a long week."

Daniel seemed inclined to ask more questions, but when it was obvious Blaine's attention was back on the music, he kept his mouth shut.

At the end of her set, Mercedes left the stage and went straight for their table, stopped on her way by people who needed to tell her just how fantastic she had been. She gracefully accepted every compliment, and then moved right into Sam's waiting arms, and let him press a sweet kiss on her flushed cheek.

"Blaine, Daniel," Sam said, turning to them as he slipped an arm around her waist. "This superstar is Mercedes Jones."

"Hi guys!" She said happily. "It's so nice to meet you!"

"It's so nice to meet you," Blaine said, shaking her hand and dropping a quick kiss on the back of it. "You are so… words are not enough to describe your talent."

"And he's an English professor, so that should tell you exactly how amazing you are," Sam said, as Mercedes laughed, flattered.

"Thank you, guys. I'm glad you enjoyed the set! And I'm glad you could join us," she took a seat and Sam immediately went to the bar to get her something to drink. "Sam talks about you all the time, Blaine. I've been looking forward to meeting you."

"He's a great friend, I've been so lucky," Blaine said honestly.

Daniel wanted to know how Sam and Mercedes had met, so she launched into the story. They had a great night, laughing and chatting, and exchanging anecdotes. Blaine was still mostly interested in knowing everything there was to know about Mercedes Jones.

"When you inevitably become the greatest artist of our generation, I'll get to tell my students that I knew you," he said, and she laughed, but seemed very charmed by him.

They were starving after a while, so they walked down the street towards a burger place. It was very cold outside. Sam threw an arm around Mercedes' shoulders and rubbed them gently to keep her warm. Daniel reached for Blaine's hand and stuck it in his coat's pocket with his.

"You're still really quiet," Daniel commented.

"I know. I'm sorry," Blaine muttered. "I'm a little distracted."

"I hope you know that if there's anything I can do to help…" Daniel said earnestly.

Blaine leaned his head on Daniel's shoulder for a moment. "I know. Thank you."

But he didn't say more.

Kurt was asleep on the couch when Blaine made it home. He closed the door softly behind himself, not wanting to startle him, but Kurt still sat up, rubbing his eyes in confusion.

"What time is it?" He asked, his voice a little rough from sleep.

"Almost one," Blaine replied. He smiled at Kurt's disheveled appearance. He looked comfortable and soft, his body long and loose on the couch. "I'm sorry, it's a little later than I said. We went for a burger after the concert and then I walked Daniel home, and I didn't realize it was so late."

Kurt blinked slowly at him. "Oh, it's fine. Don't worry."

"Was everything okay tonight?" Blaine sat next to him.

"Yeah. We had another little dance party," Kurt said with a smile. "He ate all his dinner and went to bed right on time. He was a perfect little boy."

"I'm glad," Blaine leaned his head on the back of the couch and sighed.

"You okay?" Kurt asked, turning on the couch to face him. Blaine just shrugged. "Are you still worried about tomorrow?"

"A little bit," Blaine admitted. "I just don't know what they could come up with."

"What's the worst that could happen?" Kurt said, and Blaine thought he had no idea what a can of worms that question was.

"For starters, they could come to tell me they are fighting me for Max's custody," Blaine said. There was a very heavy weight on his chest. It was hard to breathe.

Kurt's eyes went wide, and he was suddenly very awake. "Do you really think that's a possibility?"

"They didn't want me to be raising Max in the first place," Blaine explained as calmly as he could. "That's why we fought at the funeral. They wanted to take Max home with them."

"Wow, no wonder you looked so pale when your mother called," Kurt muttered.

Blaine practically doubled over in half, his elbows on his knees and his head between his arms, as if shielding it from whatever was about to rain on him. "I can't do this, Kurt. I can't go through this right now."

Kurt hesitated and then rubbed Blaine's back comfortingly. "Hey. We already talked about this. There's no point in stressing about something that might not happen. I know it's a difficult situation, but maybe it won't be as bad as you think. Maybe they just need to see how amazing you are with him. Trust me, it'll take them less than ten seconds to realize Max's exactly where he's supposed to be."

Blaine tried really, really hard to stop it, but still the tears began to trail down his face and a little sob made his spine shake under Kurt's hand. "I'm scared. I'm fucking terrified."

"Blaine…" Kurt sounded like his heart was broken. He shuffled closer on the couch, and this time wrapped his arm around Blaine's back, his cheek falling to rest on the back of Blaine's shoulder. "It'll be alright. Whatever it is, no matter how hard, you won't have to do it alone. I will be here. I will help you. And if they dare to try to take that child from you, I swear I won't let them."

Blaine knew there was truly nothing Kurt could do if his parents put their lawyer to it. That man had been managing Hugh Anderson's legal affairs for over twenty years, and had never missed a case. But still, the vehemence on Kurt's voice gave him hope.

He grabbed Kurt's free hand between his and squeezed it. "You sure you want to stop by tomorrow?"

"If you want me here, I'll be here," Kurt reassured him without a second's doubt.

"They are… not very pleasant to be around," Blaine explained carefully, as if needing to make Kurt understand just what exactly he was getting himself into. "My father probably won't say much, but when he does, it won't be nice. And my mother… god, she's like a dragon. You can't stop her."

He felt Kurt smile a little against his shoulder. "I can be a dragon too, Blaine," he said softly, his voice vibrating through Blaine's ribs and right into his heart. "Maybe she's the one who should be scared. You haven't seen me breathe fire yet."

Despite everything, Blaine laughed and pressed Kurt's hand against his beating heart.

On Sunday, Blaine slept past his alarm. He woke up, disoriented, when he heard Max practically wailing for his attention from his bedroom. He tripped getting out of bed and almost hit his head on the wall, before he hurried into his nephew's room to calm him. It was nearly eleven in the morning. His parents had said they were going to be there at noon.

He was so fucked.

Kurt had stayed with him until almost three. They hadn't talked much after that, just kept him company until Blaine felt like he could breathe again, until he felt like the weight on his chest was a little lighter, until he felt like he could keep himself in control. Only then had Kurt gone home, accepting money for a taxi at Blaine's insistence again, and promptly messaged him as soon as he arrived at his apartment so Blaine could know he had made it there safely.

Wonderful, wonderful Kurt.

He hurried as he made breakfast for Max and coffee for himself, grateful that he had showered before getting into bed last night, as he waited for Kurt's text message. He only needed to put his hair under control and Max into clean clothes, and he would be fine. The apartment didn't look like it had been hit like a nuclear bomb, which was a huge improvement, though he had planned to vacuum and go grocery shopping so he would have decent food to offer his parents for lunch. Now, he would have to settle for take-out, and pray there weren't any dust bunnies under the couch. Blaine knew his mother. She would find them.

The doorbell rang two minutes before twelve o'clock. Blaine, who was trying his best to fix his hair in the bathroom mirror, cursed his parents' punctuality, and walked towards the door, first stopping at the living room to lower the volume on the TV, where Max was entertained with his favorite cartoons.

His hands were shaking as he opened the door. Whatever it is, no matter how hard, you won't have to do it alone.

Kurt's voice echoed in him like a prayer he could believe in.

Andrea and Hugh Anderson looked exactly the same, as if the months hadn't even passed. She was wearing a tube skirt and a blazer, both red, on top of a black blouse, her long black coat unzipped, and her feet sheathed in stilettos that couldn't be practical in the cold Manhattan streets. His father was wearing a blue suit, his coat also unbuttoned, his shoes polished.

They didn't look like they were visiting their son. They looked like they were on a business appointment.

"Mom, Dad," he said politely, moving aside to let them in. "Come in."

Her mother removed her coat entirely as she looked around, not disguising the disapproving look on her face. "It's rather small, don't you think?"

"It's enough for me and Max. And a three-bedroom apartment in Manhattan is practically a mansion," he shrugged. He told himself he wouldn't let them get to him. "I trust you had a good flight?"

Hugh grunted what sounded like an affirmative reply. "How's work?"

Blaine swayed for a moment on his heels, already uncomfortable beyond words. "Please, let's go into the living room," he said, and guided them there. "And work's fine. It gets crazier the closer it gets to the end of the semester, but nothing I can't manage."

Max looked up from his cartoons at the sound of people coming into the room. He frowned for a moment, and looked at Blaine like saying, "Who the hell are these two and why are they wearing those clothes on a Sunday, for God's sake?"

Blaine thought maybe Max was spending too much time with Kurt.

"Hey, Max," Blaine said softly, approaching the kid to pick him up. "Let's go say hello to your grandparents."

Hugh and Andrea studied Max almost clinically as Blaine walked towards them.

"He looks bigger," she commented. "Is he eating well?"

"Oh yeah, he's not a very picky eater, thank god," Blaine said with a little laugh. "He devours anything you give him."

"Mm. You might want to be careful. He shouldn't get too chubby," Andrea commented. What kind of grandmother didn't even reach for the baby after not seeing him for months? "Do you take him to daycare?"

"No, we have a fantastic nanny who's actually a lifesaver…" Blaine began saying, ready to sing Kurt's praise, but was immediately interrupted by his father.

"A nanny? That is an insane idea," Hugh said, frowning. "Did you check for criminal background records before you accepted some stranger into your house? Does she come highly recommended by some agency or acquaintance?"

She. Blaine wondered what they would think when he told them Max's nanny was actually a man. But he understood the undertone. Taking care of babies was a demeaning job. It wasn't a position meant to be occupied by men.

"I have the number of a fantastic daycare in the Upper East Side," Andrea said immediately. "I got the recommendation from the Collins. Their eldest daughter took all her kids there. You can call them after we leave."

"Thanks, but I don't think…"

"If you think it's a little out of your financial reach, we can discuss it," Hugh said.

Blaine took a deep breath. "Coop and Sara left money for Max's needs. We don't need anything."

Max had been glancing at his grandparents silently during this whole exchange, and finally seemed to decide he didn't like them very much, because he threw his head back and began crying loudly. Hugh's eyebrows shot up to his hairline in shock, and Andrea's lips pursed in distaste.

"Hey, buddy. It's fine. It's fine, it's fine…" Blaine tried to soothe him, bouncing him a little. He looked at his parents awkwardly. "Sorry, he doesn't… he gets really uncomfortable with people he doesn't know very well."

"That isn't normal behavior," Andrea commented, leaning closer as if to take a good look at Max's anguished face. "Have you tried taking him to a child psychologist, Blaine?"

"Mom, he's okay. He doesn't need a psychologist just because he doesn't like strangers," Blaine said, frustrated, as he did his best to calm his nephew.

"Strangers? We're his grandparents," she said, visibly offended.

"Well, he hasn't seen either of you since the funeral. What did you expect? He wasn't going to run straight into your arms, Mom!" He exclaimed, a little more angrily that he would have liked. He sat on the couch and grabbed Max's favorite bear, who hugged it to his chest for comfort. "There you go, kiddo. It's alright."

"We are here now," Hugh said, and for some reason, Blaine didn't like the tone of his voice.

He held Max a little tighter. He was still whimpering unhappily.

Andrea sat on the armchair next to the couch, very carefully, as if scared it would send a cloud of dust flying in the air. "If you're struggling, you can tell us. We wouldn't mind… helping ease the load."

Blaine had trouble breathing again. He focused his gaze on the TV where a rescue squad made up of dogs dressed like cops and firefighters were helping a girl with a scraped knee. He could feel the words burning on his tongue, the anger slowly rising, the panic setting. "Max is not a load."

"Oh don't be so sensitive," Andrea rolled her eyes. "You know what we mean. This can't be easy for you, raising a child that isn't yours, all by yourself. God knows what Sara and Cooper were thinking when they named you his guardian…"

And there it was again, that heavy weight on his chest. "They were thinking that I love this kid more than anything in the world."

"Love's not enough, Blaine," Hugh retorted, standing behind his wife and putting a hand on her shoulder, as if presenting a united front would help them win the battle. "There are other things to parenting."

"Like you two are experts," he spit before he could stop himself. "Like you didn't screw up everything with your own two children. How dare you come here and tell me I'm not the right person to raise Max when you left me on my own…"

"Dear god, Blaine." Hugh murmured, displeased. "Are you still upset about that?"

"I was beaten up at a high school dance and all you two cared about was that your friends and the neighbors would find out I was gay!" He exclaimed. There was a hole in his stomach. A black hole, trying to consume him.

"Don't act like that was our fault," Andrea said airily.

"Oh, no, I'm pretty sure it was my fault. After all, what was I thinking, that because I was fourteen years old, bruised, bedridden and scared I could count on my parents? How could I have come up with such an insane idea?" He screamed, and Max began crying again.

He was breathing heavily, looking at his parents with his eyes filled with tears, but the worst part was that they still looked at him like they weren't seeing him at all. They looked at him like he was a stranger, not even a person, just something they couldn't use for their own benefit. How could he have thought today would go any different?

He heard the scrape of the key on the lock, and a couple of seconds later, Kurt's voice floated into the apartment. "Blaine? Are you guys home? I forgot my…"

He came into the living room and clapped his mouth shut. His blue eyes took in the scene and immediately searched for Blaine, his lips twisting, upset, when he realized things weren't going well. Max, however, as soon as he heard his voice (his amazing, beautiful voice), stopped crying, and instead tried to crawl out of Blaine's arms and towards him.

Kurt smiled at the boy and took a few steps to get closer. Blaine passed the kid over and hastily dried his tears, and Max wrapped his little arms around Kurt's neck as if saying "Dude, get me the hell out of here. Talk about awkward."

"Hi! I'm really sorry to interrupt. I just needed to pick something up," he said, his voice purposefully light. "You two must be Blaine's parents. I'm Kurt…" He extended his hand, but neither of them made a move to shake it. "Okay. I see."

"Kurt's my…" Blaine began to explain, trying to somehow get the meeting back on track, but once again, his parents wouldn't let him speak.

"Oh, I think we all know what Kurt is," Andrea said with a fake smile.

Kurt arched an eyebrow. Oh oh, Blaine thought.

"You know, I always wondered where Blaine got his charming personality, and his kindness," Kurt said, giving her his best fake smile in return. "I guess it came all from his big brother."

Andrea glared.

Max pressed his forehead against Kurt's cheek, as if pleading to take him anywhere but here. Kurt smiled down at him. "What is up with you, little man?"

"Blaine, I do believe we should keep discussing things privately," Hugh muttered pointedly.

"I don't think there's much to discuss, to be honest, Dad," Blaine said tiredly, but feeling a little stronger now that Kurt was standing right beside him. "I don't think we'll ever agree."

"We definitely need to discuss Max's future…" Andrea insisted.

"There is nothing to discuss," Blaine repeated, growing more and more frustrated. Why was it so hard for them to understand? "I'm raising Max the way Cooper and Sara wanted me to, and that's it. You don't get to decide what's best for him when you couldn't be proper parents to us first."

"Stop with the childish complaints. Stop trying to get everyone's attention with your silly behavior, Blaine," Andrea huffed indignantly. "It is so like you. You only think about yourself. How can you expect to do what's needed to take care of Max…?"

Kurt took two steps towards her and extended the kid as if to offer him to them. "Here. Grab your grandchild and if he doesn't cry as soon as you touch him, I'm sure Blaine will be happy to discuss whatever options you think are more adequate."

Andrea stared at him like he was crazy. "Blaine, are you going to allow your little boyfriend here to tell us…?"

Blaine blinked in surprise at that, but Kurt didn't even react. He just held Max out for them.

"Come on. You have nothing to lose. Just grab him. And while you're at it, you can change his diaper, because I'm pretty sure he just went number two. If you want him so badly, you might as well start practicing," he said scathingly.

Andrea looked truly horrified. She glanced up at her husband, as if looking for back-up, but he raised his hands as if saying she was all alone in this.

Kurt readjusted Max in his arms, who had started whimpering unhappily when he held him close to his grandparents. "I see how it is." He kissed the kid's head in silent apology, pressed a hand on Blaine's shoulder gently, and said: "I'm going to change his diaper. Let me know if you need anything."

Blaine caught Kurt's hand before he could remove it. He held it for a moment and looked into his eyes, profoundly grateful for this man. "Thanks, Kurt."

Kurt winked at him and left the room.

"That is one unpleasant creature you keep around, Blaine," Hugh said, not bothering to lower his voice. "This is exactly why we don't want you keeping Max…"

"Yes, we wouldn't want him growing up surrounded by kind, intelligent people who love him more than anything, right?" Blaine said, and stood up slowly, as if his legs were suddenly leaden. "I think you two should go."

"Blaine…" Andrea sighed impatiently.

"We all know this is not something we will ever agree on," Blaine said tiredly. "I won't let you take Max away from me. I can't stop you from calling your lawyer and trying, but I am not going down without a fight. And we also know that you two don't want to have to raise a child. You're too busy with your galas and your dinner parties. You won't stay home on a Friday night to take care of him, when you could be somewhere else. You didn't do it with Cooper and me. You won't do it for Max. Living with me, he's with family. Living with you, he's condemned to be raised by random nannies."

His parents were suddenly silent because they all knew that was true.

Still, Hugh tried one last time. "Your lifestyle…"

"My lifestyle is healthier than yours would ever be," Blaine replied. He looked at them sadly and thought about the family he would never get to have. "I don't care what you think about it. I just know Max will be happier with me, and that's all I care about."

After a pause, Hugh cleared his throat and put a hand on his wife's back. "We should go. We have those tickets for the theatre, we don't want to be late."

"Of course," she said, like missing the theatre would be the worst thing ever.

Blaine sighed, exhausted. "I'll go get Max so you can say goodbye…"

"There's no need," she interrupted, and Blaine stared at her in sad disbelief. "We'll see ourselves out."

They left without another word, and Blaine let himself fall back on the couch. They hadn't even said goodbye to Max. They didn't care. It had never been about Max's wellbeing, about taking his best interest into account. It had always been about Blaine. It had always been about how disappointed and unhappy they were with him.

He hid his face into his hands. If they called that lawyer…

"Blaine?" Kurt whispered softly, and Blaine looked up at him, standing hesitantly on the entrance, Max safely in his arms.

Blaine once again tried to dry his tears hastily. "Do you need help with Max? I can change his diaper if you…"

"I was lying about the diaper," Kurt shrugged guiltily. "I just wanted to see the look on her face when I said he pooped."

Blaine chuckled and more tears escaped down his cheeks. "God, you were… the dragon really did come out to play."

Kurt sat next to him and bumped their shoulders together. "I hope I didn't overstep."

"Not at all," Blaine assured him, leaning against his side a little, feeling the warmth of Kurt's body. "You were amazing."

"So…" Kurt murmured, biting his lip. "Those are your parents."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Impressive, huh?"

"Not the word I would use, but sure," Kurt said, as he let Max down on the floor when he began to wiggle on his lap. "Do you think they'll file for custody?"

Blaine thought about it. If they wanted to screw him up, sure. But he had seen the look on their eyes when he talked about them sacrificing their own lifestyle for Max's needs. They would never do that. "I don't know. I hope not. But whatever happens…"

"We'll face it," Kurt said, threading his arm through Blaine's and squeezing, smiling encouragingly. "Together."

Blaine laced their fingers together without thinking. "This is way over your paycheck. You deserve a raise."

Kurt laughed. "This has nothing to do with the job, Blaine."

"Then what is it about?" Blaine asked, glancing up at Kurt's face.

He could see Kurt swallow. His blue eyes bore into his. "Love," he whispered, almost reverently. Then he blinked and looked at Max, who was now sitting on the floor hugging his leg. "Your love for Max. Your love for Cooper. My love for Max…"

It sounded like he was going to say something else, but then he shook his head and stayed silent.

Blaine smiled down at his nephew. "We should let you go. It's Sunday and you're wasting it with us and our drama."

"Please, if there's drama, I'm all for it," Kurt said sassily, and unlinked their arms. He stood up. "How about some comfort food? I make some mean Mac-and-Cheese from scratch that will make you forget all about drama."

Blaine peeled Max from Kurt's leg and hugged him close. He needed to feel his little heartbeat against his hand. "That sounds heavenly."

Kurt put the remote on Blaine's hand. "You two catch up on the shenanigans of the Paw Patrol. I'll take care of lunch."

Blaine followed him with his eyes as he left the living room, and then glanced at his book case, to the photograph of Cooper and him a few years ago. He looked at his brother sadly for a moment, wondered if his parents thought about their dead son even half as much as Blaine thought about his brother, and then smiled briefly at Cooper's perpetual grin.

"You did a good job sending him," he murmured quietly, so Kurt wouldn't hear. "A perfect angel. He takes good care of us, Coop."

He could hear Kurt singing from the kitchen as he cooked. Maybe things would be okay, in the end.

Please review and tell what you thought of this chapter! Hope you liked it!

See you all again next week. Thanks for reading, loves!

L.-