Glee Fic : Try the Swing | Kurt/Blaine (AU) | 4/4 NC-17
Title : Try The Swing
Author : Jen
Rating : NC-17 overall (language & stuff that happens in a marriage...!)
Pairing : Kurt/Blaine AU
Series : sequel to Vows
Word Count : ~8,600 (this part) / ~39,000 (overall)
Spoilers : as it's an AU, none. But there's so many spoilers for "Vows" so can I suggest that if you've not read that first that you go do so. It's fine. We'll wait. Canon-wise it's references to stuff that if you've seen the episode in question you'll know about it.
Summary : Kurt and Blaine have survived a lot. A Vegas wedding to a stranger, a cross-country journey of discovery, and coast-to-coast separation. They came through all that to a second marriage, one that has been happy and successful for two years. The next logical step is parenthood. Only kids are rarely logical.
<< Part 3
*
Blaine was already feeling the strain of being back at work and was starting to wonder how it would be when the kids started back next week. On the plus side, he mused as he mustered the energy to climb up the steps, at least he would have Amelia for company. It would be strange, not having Ben around, dropping in to his classroom during lunch or after school, ostensibly for no reason at all but Blaine knew, he knew that Ben just wanted to spend time with him. Time Blaine was happy to spend with his son.
For a moment he caught himself just outside the door, key only halfway into the lock.
His son. He had a son.
He had a son and a daughter and a husband and a mortgage and a house and a job he loved in a city that was home. He had friends and a life that he adored and was everything that he never knew he wanted. Or needed.
Pulling himself out of his soppy daydream he pushed the key all the way in and turned the lock. Once the door was shut behind him he dropped his messenger bag while he toed off his shoes before hanging up his coat. Then he took the few steps along the hallway to his bedroom door and pushed it open.
Amelia bolted off the bed and had wrapped her arms around his waist before he even had time to think.
"Sweetie?" he managed to say when his brain caught up with himself. This was not right, this was about as wrong as it could get. She'd not clung to him this tightly since that day at the school a lifetime ago. "Amelia, honey?"
She wasn't moving, she wasn't doing anything except clinging to him and when Blaine forced himself to still and wait for her he could feel the tell-tale shakes of quiet tears. He wanted to hold on to her and never let go, he wanted to grab her and shake her and make her tell him exactly what had her hiding away in his room (the bed was covered with her toys and books and the TV was playing her favourite DVD). He wanted to grab his cell from his bag and call Kurt and have support with whatever this was.
Because she had never, never been like this with them.
But she had been. Once upon a time. He knew all about her history, her mom and dad, and his heart hurt with all the possibilities, none of them good.
"Princess," Blaine said softly after a few minutes. "Honey, what...?"
"I had to stay in here," she said, not pulling away from Blaine. "I had to stay in here and wait for you or Papa to come home. Just like before, I had to wait."
"Before?" Blaine asked, his heart sinking. "What's happened? You know you can tell me anything, honey, and you won't be in trouble and I won't get mad."
"Promise?" she asked, finally pulling back to look up at him. "'cause you can't get mad. If you get mad then it will just get worse."
"I promise, baby," Blaine said, loosening her hold so he could squat down to her level. "I won't get mad and we can make it better."
"Cross your heart?" she asked.
"Cross my heart," he smiled, trying not to let his worry show.
He forced a smile onto his face, knowing that it wasn't reaching his eyes and praying silently to whatever or whoever was listening up there that Amelia not only believed him but that whatever she was going to tell him (and please let her tell him) wasn't that bad.
Because if anyone had laid a finger on her, if anyone so much as touched or hurt his kids, then he would...
"It's Ben," Amelia said and Blaine's worry lurched in a whole other direction. "He's upstairs."
*
Blaine sent two texts after closing the bedroom door behind him. The first was to Kurt (SOS. COME HOME NOW) the second to Rachel (Next time we ask you to look after the kids, check we are home before you just drop them off at the door).
They were supposed to be with Rachel. She was supposed to be here but when she'd dropped them off Ben had opened the door, called out, and then said that Blaine was home. So she'd gone and they'd been home alone for the last hour.
Not that Ben wasn't sensible enough to look after Amelia but they weren't irresponsible parents. Hence Rachel. Then Ben had taken Amelia into the master bedroom with all her things and told her to wait there. She didn't know why and she didn't know what was going on, but Ben had made her promise and a promise to her brother was worth everything. But she knew her brother and she knew something was wrong. Something had been wrong since lunchtime but she didn't know what.
Somehow this was worse. Ben was retreating, he was hiding and that was something he'd not done in a long, long time.
Blaine took the stairs one at a time, treading gently on the boards for some unknown reason. It wasn't that he was trying to sneak up on Ben but he didn't know what he was going to walk in on, he didn't know what Ben was doing and he didn't want to give him the opportunity to hide or dispose of something.
Somehow he'd become that parent.
There was no noise as he approached Ben's door and he had an internal debate for a moment before putting his hand on the handle and pushing it open onto chaos.
Ben was sitting in the middle of his destroyed room: books and papers were everywhere; the bedding on the floor and the mattress pulled from the frame; the posters and frames on the wall had been pulled down and it looked like most of the drawers had been emptied.
"Ben..."
"Get out!" Ben yelled, jumping to his feet. "This is my room and you knock first!"
Blaine recoiled a little but stood his ground as Ben turned on him.
"You think you can just come in here as you please?" Ben snapped. "Get the fuck out."
"What happened?"
"What the fuck do you think happened here?" Ben growled, pulling himself up into Blaine's personal space. He'd gained a few inches during the summer and was pretty much level now. "And here I thought you were the smart one. But then again you got involved with me so..."
"Ben, what happened...?"
"What happened?" he mocked. "What happened? What happened? What the fuck do you think happened, Einstein? What was always going to happen. This is who I am, Blaine. This is pure me. I am hell and I am destructive. I nearly fucked up your marriage and now..."
"Stop it," Blaine said firmly. "This is not you."
"You've known me for five minutes. You have no idea who I am, you have no idea where I come from, what I'm like. You think you've changed me, that you and Kurt rescued me like I'm some fucked up cat you found up a tree."
"So what? These are your claws coming out?" Blaine asked.
"Done it before, you know I have."
"Bullshit," Blaine said firmly.
"What? I trashed my room in the home..."
"So where's the hole in the wall? Where's the broken furniture? I see mess, Ben. I just see a hell of a lot of mess."
"Don't fuck..."
"And then there's the language. You know better, you are better. So you're doing this for a reason."
"And you know that for a reason do you?" Ben asked, stepping back and folding his arms.
"Yeah, I do. And it doesn't matter how long I've known you. I know you. I knew Kurt for a few hours and I married him, I knew you for two minutes and I was giving you my cell number. So how about you tell me what is really going on?"
"How about you just save us the bother and just get rid of me?"
"What?"
"We both know it's just a matter of time. Kurt's got these fucking stupid rules and if I break one I go. Simple as. Think this counts."
"No," Blaine said firmly.
"What?"
"No."
"What the fuck do I need to do?"
"More than create a mess and swear and tell me to send you away."
"Stubborn."
"Have to be to deal with you."
"Why do you bother?"
"Because I love you," Blaine said immediately and for a second he saw the look that passed over Ben's face. "I love you," he repeated softly.
"I can't..." Ben said, the anger dropping from his voice. "Blaine, I..."
"I love you," Blaine whispered, reaching out and putting his hands on Ben's shoulders. "And whatever has happened we can deal with it."
"Why would you...?"
"Because you are my son," Blaine said firmly before pulling Ben against him, holding him tightly as he began to sob. For the second time in an hour Blaine was holding his child as they broke down. "You are my kid and I love you," he whispered, "and whatever is going on, whatever the problem is... even if I can't fix it I wanna know. You are not alone in this, in anything anymore."
"I can't..."
"It's OK," Blaine soothed, his hand running up Ben's back to grab at the back of his neck. "It's OK."
"It's not."
"Yeah, it is."
"It's really not," Ben all but sobbed. "It's not going to be OK and I need to go."
"Why?"
"Because..." he said, forcing the words past the lump in his throat. "Because you're not safe if I stay."
"Ben..."
"Dad's getting out. And he'll come for me. I'm his son and he said that he would come and get me when he got out. And I can't be here when that happens."
Anything else was lost in the tears and the gasps, in the whispered words of love from father to son, held tight and not let go.
*
Eventually they'd sunk to the floor, Blaine still holding on and clutching Ben tightly to his chest. He didn't want to let go and he didn't think Ben wanted to be let go.
"Lauren called at lunch," Ben said eventually. "She told me."
"That your dad is coming to get you?"
"No, he... he told me. It's, like, one of the last things I remember about him. My case worker at the time figured I needed closure so when I asked to see Dad one last time she took me. He promised me that when he got out, whenever that was and wherever I was, he could come and get me. And I'm still in New York, I'm across town from where I grew up, where Dad has lived his whole life... And he will find me."
"He's not allowed near you, you know that?"
"Yeah, and he wasn't allowed to kill Mom but that didn't stop him. He's getting out because some fucking... sorry. Some idiot specialist has said he's got his anger under control, that he wasn't in control of what he was doing. Like that makes everything OK. Like that makes Mom any less dead."
"Why didn't you call me? Or Kurt?"
"...Dunno. Sorry."
"It's fine," Blaine said, shifting his arm a little to brush his fingers across Ben's hair. "Really. You told me, that's what matters."
"I can't have him come here. He won't care..."
"I care," Blaine said firmly. "OK, let's make something clear from the start. You were in what? Four homes before the one I met you in? And I don't know if it actually registered but you are Ben Anderson now. You are my son and there is no way that anyone is taking you from me."
"And to add to that," came Kurt's voice from the doorway, "if anyone did manage to get you away from us don't think for one moment we won't tear the whole world apart to find you and bring you home. Because you're our son."
"What he said," Blaine laughed. "Unless you want to go. Because..."
"No," Ben said firmly and quickly. "No, I don't..."
"Then you're staying and we will deal with this," Kurt said gently.
"I'm sorry. 'bout the mess."
"It'll clean up," Blaine said. "We'll help."
"I made it..."
"We'll still help," Blaine repeated, pressing a firm kiss against Ben's hairline.
"What if I'm like him?" Ben asked so quietly the pair of them wondered if he'd actually said something. "What if...?"
"You're not," Blaine said.
"How can you know that?"
"Because you told Amelia to wait in our room," Blaine explained. "You did what her mom did to protect her. You made sure she didn't see you like this, you made sure she wasn't triggered. You have never not looked out for her."
"She's my sister," Ben said quietly.
"Yeah, she is," Kurt said. "There is someone in this house, in this life, that you put above you. Always. No matter what it costs you, no matter what you have to do. She comes first for you. That makes you your mom if it makes you anyone. Personally I like to think that makes you you.
"You are not that kid from the home. You are..." Kurt sighed and gave a small laugh. "You're ours. Everything else is negotiable OK? And if you've got a moment then Amelia would really like to give her big brother a hug."
"If that's OK?" Amelia asked, sticking her head around the doorframe.
"It's always OK, Princess," Ben said, pulling himself away from Blaine and holding out his arms.
Amelia was in them within seconds and Blaine took the distraction to push himself to his feet, groaning slightly as his body protested at having sat on the floor for so long. He joined Kurt out on the landing, stepping away from the doorframe before he pulled his husband into a tight hug, burying his face into his shoulder.
"God, Kurt..."
"I know, I know. But we'll be fine. We are all going to be fine."
"He is so scared..."
"I know, love, I know," Kurt said quietly.
"He wants to run. I know what that's like, I know... We can't let him run."
"He might want to but he won't. You didn't."
"What if he..."
"If he runs? Then we find him. You ran and I came after you. We will go after him."
"Still. Might barricade the door all the same," Blaine laughed.
"Never letting him out of your sight?"
"Can you put a tracking chip in your children? We should look into that."
"I think they ruled that unethical, sorry love," Kurt laughed, rubbing a hand up and down Blaine's back. "But we are going to deal with it. Without microchips and GPS though."
"How can you be so calm about this?" Blaine asked, pulling back from the hug to look at him. "Oh," he added when he saw that Kurt's eyes were filling up just the same. "I love you."
"I love you too," Kurt replied with a soft laugh.
"No, I really love you. I just... need to tell you."
"Feel free to tell me more often."
"How are we going to deal with this?"
Kurt gave a small shrug and kissed him gently. "Same way Dad dealt with stuff he didn't fully get. Mostly about me and the whole gay thing. Just got on with it."
"Your dad is amazing," Blaine laughed. "If we are half the parents he is I'll be happy."
"Know what Dad told me when I said we were adopting? 'The trick to parenting is simple. You shut up from time to time and you listen. And then you just be there and you be whoever they need you to be'."
"So we shut up and listen to him?"
"We shut up and listen to him," Kurt repeated. "We be whatever he wants and needs."
"I think he wants to move," Blaine laughed softly. "How about we go back to LA? Think that's for enough away?"
"Europe, Australia, whatever he wants," Kurt laughed. "Although maybe not Australia. I don't have the complexion for it." He pulled Blaine back into a hug and just held on for a little while longer. "We're going to be OK."
"I'm scared of what this means for him. If he's going to..."
"He won't," Kurt said firmly. "And even if he does then we will be here to help him. He's our son, remember. No matter what we are his parents, we love him, and that means total and unconditional support."
"About that," Blaine said, pulling back so he could look at his husband again. "You told him you loved him."
"So?"
"So... that's the first time you said it."
"No," Kurt dismissed quickly. "I... I must have..." But now that he was thinking about it he realised that Blaine was right. "Wow," he breathed, stepping back and leaning on the wall for support. "Guess I'm not the parent my dad is."
"Hey, you're great."
"So great that today was the first day I told my kid I love him."
"So great that today was the day that you made it clear to him where he stands with you. On the day when he needed to know, more than ever, that he is safe here with us, that he is wanted and loved? You told him. And it will have meant something."
"You think?"
"I know," Blaine smiled. "How did it feel when I first told you that I loved you?"
"Like... anything was possible. Everything was possible."
"But you knew. Before I said anything, you knew."
"Yeah," Kurt sighed, his lips curving up into a small smile.
"Then trust me on this. He knows. He knows we love him and he knows that we want him here. Why else would he stage this? Trash his room? Swear at me? Try and push every button that we have because what else is going to make us kick him out? Your conditions and my objections, things we put in place at the start to establish boundaries and rules and his place in this home.
"He knew, Kurt. Whether he realised it or not, he knew before tonight that you love him. And he knew, deep down, that we weren't ever going to let him go."
"Then why did he do this?"
"Because he needed to know for certain," Blaine said. "Why do you think I came back to New York? Why did you wait for me outside that coffee house? Why didn't I go any further than the couch? Because even though we knew, somewhere, that we were in love..."
"We just needed a bit of proof," Kurt finished.
"So like you said. We shut up, we listen, and we be whoever he needs us to be. And we make damn sure that he knows we love him."
*
"Don't I get a beer?" Ben joked when Blaine dropped onto the couch next to him with two cans; one soft and one decidedly not so. "If ever I had a day that deserved a beer it's today."
"Sure," Blaine said, laughing when Ben nearly gave himself whiplash. "In about six years. First round on your birthday is on me."
"Spoilsport," Ben sulked, taking the can of Diet Coke and cracking it open. "So come on then."
"Come on what?"
"Do the parent thing. The talk."
"Nope. You get to do the talking."
"Oh god. Really?"
"Excited about High School?" Blaine asked.
Ben turned to look at him, slightly slower this time, with a glare on his face. "Seriously? That's the topic of conversation?"
"I can offer up US foreign and domestic policies, potential winners of the Superbowl, or Broadway musicals as alternatives."
"When Dad was sentenced," Ben said quietly, "I asked my social worker to take me to see him. I wanted to say goodbye and that's when he told me... what he said. And in a way it made things easier because I'd convinced myself he was never getting out. The judge said twenty years but you hear about all the stuff that goes on in jail, what people do to guys who beat on their wives and kids? Plus he could never stay out of trouble.
"But it's not just his parole. He shaved a few years off by ratting out a cellmate and then this psych spends a few hours with him and suddenly he's cured of all his anger problems."
"Sounds like we've been sending you to the wrong therapist," Blaine quipped.
"And suddenly he's out this weekend. Monday at the latest. I'm supposed to be starting school on Monday, not looking over my shoulder to see if he's there, if he's found me.
"I love my life. I never thought I was going to have this. I was never the kid who got an Exit, I was just going to finish school and get a job and now I'm a part of this. You know it took Amelia almost a whole hour to leave my room tonight?"
"She loves you."
"I love her. Never gave her five seconds in the home but..."
"She's worried about you. We all are."
"I know," Ben said quietly. "And I want... I wish I could make... say something..."
"It's fine," Blaine said. "Whenever you figure it out, we're here. Whatever it is."
"I think right now a useable bedroom is top of my list," Ben laughed. "Sorry again..."
"Stop with the apologies, OK? The bedding can be replaced, it'll tidy up and before long it will be..."
"Brand new? Forgotten about? Covered up?"
"Better."
"Better how?"
"Because things don't always stay broken. They get fixed, rebuilt, strengthened. Took Kurt a long time to realise I wasn't going to run when I first got back to New York. Took me a while to realise that he was with me because he wanted to be. But we got there, we got over the hurt, and it got better."
"And is it better now? After..."
"It's getting there. It will be. Because when something cracks you don't just plaster over it. You can't. You fix it and you do whatever it takes to make sure you don't crack it again. And with you? Kurt and I have never just plastered over the cracks, we're trying to make them better. We will do whatever it takes to make them better, to fix them.
"And it doesn't matter how many cracks appear we're not going to stop working on them."
"Why?" Ben asked quietly. "I mean... surely it would be easier, for all of you...?"
"Do I really need to go over it all with you again?" Blaine laughed. He reached over and put his arm over Ben's shoulders, pulling him in close. "Highlights. We love you, you're our son, and this is your home for as long as you want it. And even if you don't, it'll still be your home."
Ben fell silent, resting up against Blaine's chest and listening to his steady breathing. They were still like that when Kurt came in, said he'd done the best with the room but it looked like it was the couch for tonight.
After assuring them that he was fine with it Ben pushed them off to bed, grabbed the blankets from the linen closet, and sat back on the couch, head in hands, and tried to work out his next move.
*
Blaine was aware of a hand on his shoulder, stirring him from sleep.
"'s early," he muttered.
"Blaine," Kurt hissed, "wake up."
"Why?" he said, trying to turn away and bury his face in the pillows.
"Because Ben's gone."
*
"I got up for a drink and he'd gone," Kurt said as he showed Blaine the empty couch which he'd insisted on seeing.
"How long do you think he's been gone?"
"I don't know," Kurt sighed. "Maybe you were right about getting him chipped." He picked up the phone handset and opened the line.
"What are you doing?"
"Calling for a pizza, what do you think?"
"Kurt, wait."
"Our fourteen year old son has run away and you want me to wait before calling the cops?"
"If we can work out where he's gone..."
"Blaine, I know you want to get out there and find him but there are about forty thousand trained police officers in the city."
"All of who he is going to want to avoid, all of who aren't going to know him like we do. Kurt, please. Can we just take a few moments to figure this out? If we can find him..."
"Blaine, love... We can't."
"I know," Blaine breathed, dropping onto the couch. "I thought... I mean, I know he wanted..." He absent-mindedly fingered the edge of the blanket. "I thought I'd got through to him. I thought we had."
"I know, love," Kurt said. "I know."
"I still want to get out there. I'm not sitting back..."
"You think I am?" Kurt cut across with a soft laugh. "Rachel can come over."
"Shouldn't we take Amelia to her? I don't want her surrounded by cops."
"She can go over in the morning. I'm not waking her up at three in the morning, it'd only upset her. Few hours of ignorance won't hurt."
"Maybe if he's back..." Blaine started to say but stopped himself. Even though he had hope he knew it wasn't realistic. Somehow he knew they wouldn't find Ben hiding away in a school locker room. "I'm going to go... check on her..."
"OK," Kurt sighed, looking down at the phone in his hand.
He knew that two minutes could make a difference in cases like this but he understood Blaine's need to see Amelia, to know that she was safe and asleep in her bed. Keeping the phone in his hand he climbed the stairs after Blaine, just for that reassurance himself.
"Kurt," Blaine hissed when he came into view.
He stood in Amelia's doorway and for a second Kurt's heart relocated to his feet as he imagined a second empty bed. He closed the gap quickly and then sagged against Blaine's body as the breath left his body.
Curled protectively around his sister's body Ben was fast asleep on her bed, the two of them barely under the covers.
"Shit," Kurt almost laughed into Blaine's chest. "I don't think I have ever felt this relieved. Or happy."
"I feel like I should be offended by this but strangely I can't bring myself to care."
"My heart is racing."
"Mine too," Blaine breathed, wrapping his arms around Kurt and feeling his body shake and vibrate with nerves and adrenaline and relief. "I am going to kill that boy when he wakes up in the morning."
"Not if I get there first," Kurt whispered. "Come on, love, back to bed."
"Two minutes?"
"You'll be here all night if I let you."
"How can you know that?"
"Because if I don't go back to bed now then I'm going to be here all night myself," Kurt said, stepping back and offering his hand to Blaine. "Come on, love."
*
They returned to bed, finding each other under the covers and curling up the way their children were in the room above them.
"I feel like we should have some kind of plan," Kurt said. "Beyond listening to him. I don't want to be the kind of dad who just packs him off to other people for help. That's supposed to be, in part, my job. Our job."
"Plan for what?"
"I don't know. His temper? Someone to talk to? Maybe there's some clubs or stuff he can do, make some friends?"
"He's got friends at school, he's hardly a loner."
"You know what I mean."
"Yeah, I do. And I think I've got an idea."
"But?" Kurt asked, sensing that it was coming.
"But you know your grand plans for the basement...?"
*
Standing in the doorway, looking at his room, Ben wondered where to start. Most of the clothes had been picked up and put back into drawers or hung up, books piled up to be put away properly later, but there were still papers everywhere, the mattress was propped up and drying out against the wall (there were still shards from the shattered snow globe in places so he would have to be careful).
"It's a mess," came a quiet voice from by his elbow.
"Yeah."
"Want a hand?"
Ben laughed softly. "Thanks, Princess, but I'll be fine."
"I know you will be," Amelia said with a shrug. "I asked if you wanted a hand."
"I don't know where to start. There's so much..."
"Pick somewhere. We'll do it all eventually." She pressed against his hip and only eased off when he draped his arm over her shoulders. "You helped me once. My turn."
"I don't think it works like that," Ben laughed. "I think a lot of this is going to have to go out."
"We can put stuff in my room while you figure out what to do with it." She looked around the room and then patted his stomach with a hand. "After breakfast."
"What?"
"Dad says that breakfast is the most important meal of the day."
"Blaine says a lot," Ben laughed, removing his arm and holding out the hand to her instead. He frowned when she didn't take it. "What?"
"You still call him Blaine."
"...Yeah."
"Why?"
"Because..." Ben started but then couldn't finish it.
"I know they're not our real dads. But they love us and we love them. Right?"
"Of course," Ben assured her, crouching down to her level.
"I know you didn't want to be an Anderson to begin with but now you are and it feels like we should be a real family."
"We are a family, Princess. It doesn't matter what we call each other, they're just titles."
"They're more than that," Amelia said.
"I don't know, it feels... weird. I'm nearly fifteen..."
"So? They're gonna be our dads forever. It won't matter if I'm eleven or twenty one or whatever. They're gonna give me away when I get married, they're going to be our kids' granddads."
"I forget that you're still... young," Ben said, taking both her hands in his.
"Yeah, well. The home does that, doesn't it?" she whispered quietly. "All we wanted while we were there was a home and a family and parents who would love us. And I pictured a mom and dad but I love what we got instead and I love them."
"I know," Ben said, "but Blaine's not dad. He's not..."
"And isn't that a good thing?" she asked. "Our dads, our real dads? If it weren't for them neither of us would be here. And now we have two of them, like it's being made up to us or something."
"Last guy I called Dad destroyed my life," Ben said a little harsher than he'd planned.
"And the last proper home I had wasn't good. I mean, I don't remember much about it but I know I wasn't happy there, I didn't feel safe. I don't think you did either."
"I'm not arguing that things are better here..."
"Then why do you keep fighting us?" Amelia asked. "You and Papa took forever to start getting on, and it took me half an hour to convince you to come up to my room last night. We just want to help you."
"I know, Princess."
"Why do you call me that?" she asked.
"Because you are one," he smiled. "You were always into all that Disney crap in the home, of being rescued by the prince and living happily ever after."
"And it happened, right?"
"You got your happily ever after," Ben smiled. "And I didn't know it then but I do now; you totally deserve this."
"So did you. Same princes who rescued me got you too. Same castle, same life. So if I deserve it then you do too because you and me? We're the same. Same background, same home. Same dads."
"So what? You want me to call them 'Dad' and 'Papa' now?" he asked, his lips curling up in one corner.
"I want you to remember that you're an Anderson too. Papa said he chose Dad's name because he wanted them to be the same. We are the same, Ben. You and me."
"It's not that simple, Princess."
"It could be though," she countered. "I'm starving. Breakfast then we can clear up your room."
She pushed forward and kissed the tip of his nose before turning and walking away, leaving him crouched down in his bedroom. Ben fought back a laugh and rocked back on his heels before pushing to a standing position. Something caught his eye as he turned to leave and he picked his way through the debris of last night to retrieve the card from where it had fallen (been thrown?) behind the desk.
It was one of those insanely cheesy Christmas cards, with two cartoon puppies on the front and an insane amount of snow and holiday cheer. But he'd kept it for the same reason it had been given.
To the best big brother in the world.
Ben had always been very much a guy's-guy. Feelings were things that other people had, especially girls. He didn't talk about them unless it was his love for a football team or a good ice cream sundae. Recently he'd started to talk about love for his family, and last night he'd voiced it - and meant it - but that was recent.
Right?
There had been a protective feeling towards Amelia that day at the school. When he'd come around the corner and seen them surrounding her, when he had seen how scared she was, the heat in his belly flared in a familiar way, his hands curled to fists but for the first time the red and white anger hadn't blinded him but focused him.
No one touches her.
Until last night he'd not fully appreciated how much she meant to him, what lengths he would go to for her. Kurt (Papa? Really? New York may be full of them but Ben was in no way Italian) had said that it showed how much he cared about her.
Looking at the half-tidied mess around him Ben realised that this showed something else. That it wasn't just Amelia he would do anything for.
"If you don't come down I'm eating all the pancakes!" Amelia called up the stairs and he laughed, finally leaving his room.
*
"You realise hiding bodies in the basement is such a movie cliché?" Ben joked as he followed Blaine down the stairs. "Plus you don't have it in you. Kurt, maybe, but you're too soft."
"I like to think I have my moments," Blaine said, pulling the cord to turn on the light. "And maybe I'm not as soft as you think."
"Yeah?" Ben teased but then stopped when he noticed it. "What the fuck is that?"
"A punching bag. And language."
"Since when do we have a punching bag?"
"I have had one since I was a teenager," Blaine replied and then laughed at the look on Ben's face. "You don't know everything about me."
"Clearly," Ben said, his voice still tinged with disbelief. "Why do you have a punching bag?"
"I was... bullied at school. Pretty badly actually. I even got beaten up once."
"Because you were...?"
"Gay? Yeah. And for a long time I was so angry because of it so one day Dad comes home with some gloves and pads and he teaches me a few moves. I took out a lot of my feelings on his hands for a while but when I broke one of his fingers he bought me the bag."
"You broke one of his fingers?" Ben repeated, unable to hide the astonishment in his voice.
"I think he was glad to be able to leave me to it actually," Blaine said, picking up a set of gloves. "He wanted to help but that kind of thing was way out of his comfort zone."
"So that explains why you have it, but why is it up in our basement?"
"Because this is one of those moments when I pass on something to my kid," Blaine replied, holding out the gloves to him. "Get them on, Boxing 101 is about to start."
"Aren't you supposed to strap up your hands or something?"
"I don't have the full kit anymore, but if you like it we can go shopping this afternoon."
"Did it help?" Ben asked as he took the offered gloves. "With how you were feeling I mean?"
"Yeah, it did. Gave me something else to take out my feelings and frustrations on. Got pretty good."
"Yeah, but did you start a fight club?" Ben quipped as he pulled on the first glove.
"Come on now," Blaine joked, "if I did I wouldn't be able to talk about it. And that is a really old joke."
"Yeah, figured I would try and say something you'd understand," Ben shot back. "Can't go around making all these references you don't get."
"Hey, I work with kids. I'm with it."
Ben raised his eyebrows in a way that made Blaine laugh because in that moment he was so like Kurt it was untrue.
"Don't ever say stuff like that again," Ben said, his tone deadly serious. "Otherwise I am going to have to start to pretend I don't know you."
"Noted. Ready?"
"As I'll ever be. Come on then, Fight Club. Show me your moves," Ben teased, holding his gloved hands up.
*
They started slowly, Blaine adjusting Ben's stance so he was grounded before he threw any punches, made sure he wasn't over extending, explained the merits of not throwing everything into a punch from the start, and guided his hands and arms for the first few jabs. It was a scene that had probably happened a million times before and would a million times again; a father stood behind his son, hands over arms, holding and guiding every movement.
When Ben was ready Blaine moved and held the bag while Ben tapped out a few experimental jabs. As his confidence rose the pace increased, as did the intensity of the throws. Within minutes the punches were wild, missing as much as they hit, but Blaine held on while Ben vented every fear onto the leather, absorbed as much of it as he could before his son was crying with exhaustion. And then Blaine moved to hold him just as firmly.
*
Blaine rolled his neck and rubbed at a particularly stiff part as he walked into the family room, heading through to the kitchen.
"Feeling it are we?" Kurt asked as he shoved the mug of coffee in Blaine's direction.
"I need a back rub," he sighed, rolling his shoulders before picking up the mug. "I'm out of practice."
"If you ask nicely later I'll see what I can do about the back rub," Kurt purred suggestively.
"Don't know if I can wait," Blaine sighed, "and I really just want a back rub."
"Oh baby," Kurt mocked, moving behind Blaine and swatting away his hands. "How's this?" he asked as his fingers got to work on the tendons.
The moan that left Blaine's mouth in response was highly suggestive and made them both laugh.
"Settle down," Kurt laughed, kissing the side of his neck. "You know our rating limit."
"I can't help it," Blaine breathed, "you are far too good at this."
"Yeah, well, that's why you married me," Kurt laughed.
"Twice," Blaine added with his own laugh.
"How'd it go?"
"Pretty good. Told him about the clubs he could join and he said he'd think about it. I don't think he's going to be the next middleweight champion but he should do OK. And it'll help him work through some stuff."
"Good idea then?"
"I have them on occasion," Blaine squeaked with mock indignation.
"On occasion. I think this one covers you for the next... five years?"
Blaine reached behind him, trying to grab hold of Kurt but he easily dodged his grasp, leaving Blaine no choice but to turn around. After a few missed attempts his hands latched onto Kurt's side, practiced fingers finding the ticklish spots.
"I can't leave you two alone for five minutes," Ben interrupted, walking past them to the fridge, opening it to grab a bottle of water.
"We're still PG-13," Kurt pointed out, his arms slipping around Blaine's waist in dual purpose; keeping him close and preventing him from a second attack.
"Oh god," Ben muttered as he turned to leave. "My parents are insane. If I make it through the next four years without losing my mind then there's a chance I'll go off to college a somewhat normal person."
"No chance," Blaine laughed.
"Well, with dads like you two the odds are not exactly in my favour," Ben said. "Thanks though. For today."
"Any time," Blaine said.
"He says that now, when he wakes up tomorrow stiff and sore..." Kurt laughed.
"Well you're hardly a young man anymore, Dad. You should take it easy."
"Yeah, well..." Blaine began but then words stilled on his tongue as he watched Ben walk out as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. "Did he just...?" he whispered when they were alone.
"Yeah, he did," Kurt whispered back, nuzzling at Blaine's jaw where it reached his ear. When Blaine turned his head to look at him Kurt could see his hazel eyes were shining with tears. "I think we're gonna be OK, dad."
Blaine smiled widely before leaning in for the kiss, their laughter being swallowed by the other.
*
Epilogue
Four years later Ben stood alone in the family room, taking a last look.
"You're not leaving for good you know," a voice interrupted his thoughts, making him jump slightly. "And Maryland isn't that far away."
"Far enough though," Ben said, turning to face Blaine.
"Far enough for you to be independent but close enough that you can come home when you want."
Ben gave a soft snort. "I know the college fund is pretty well stocked but I don't think it will stretch to frequent flights home."
"You can come home whenever you want, OK?"
"I know, Dad."
"I'm really proud of you, you know that?"
"Really? I wouldn't know given you keep telling me every single day," he laughed. "I get it. Proud of me. Proud that I'm giving back. That you think I'm going to make a great social worker, even if Great-Grandpa Anderson had me down as being some lawyer?"
"You know what he said to me when I told him you were doing Social Work?" Blaine said. "He said that the system needed guys like you to look out for the kids who are just like you."
"Even if I am the cliché. Apparently a high number of kids who were in care themselves have careers in social services."
"You'll be great at it, cliché or not."
"Hope so."
"I know so," Blaine smiled.
"I guess I'm just... worried."
"About what?"
"Being away from home. Away from you guys. What if I...? If things go wrong?"
"Like I said, you can come home any time."
"Easier said," Ben sighed.
"So let's make it a bit easier," Blaine said, moving to the side unit and pulling an envelope from a drawer. "We got this for you. For that kind of situation."
Ben took the envelope and opened it, staring at the credit card inside. "What?"
"For whatever. If you need to speak to someone, if you need to come home, you can do it. We won't ask questions, not unless charges to liquor stores start turning up on the statement."
"This is too much," Ben said, holding the envelope out but Blaine refused to take it. "Dad..."
"Yeah, exactly. Dad. This is the kind of thing we do for our kids, we make sure they're safe. Even if they're not at home all the time."
"Thank you," Ben said quietly, slipping the envelope into his back pocket. "I guess we should..."
"Yeah. Don't want to miss your flight."
"Going to be weird. Not being here."
"It's still home," Blaine said, putting an arm around Ben's shoulders - something which wasn't as easy as it once was. "And it's always going to be here."
"Even if my room isn't?" Ben quipped. "Amelia's got plans to turn it into her closet."
"Now come on, you know that's not going to happen," Blaine said with a grin. "Your dad's got plans for a design studio."
"You're going to make me sleep in the basement at Thanksgiving aren't you?"
"Of course not," Blaine laughed. "That's going to be my office. You might get the couch..."
"That's it, I'm taking your card and running," Ben laughed before swinging around and hugging Blaine properly. "Thank you. For everything."
"Come on, kid," Blaine said softly as he returned the hug. "They're waiting and you know what Amelia's like if we're not on schedule."
*
Six years later Ben was back in the same family room, fussing with the cuffs on his shirt sleeve. "I can't do this," he declared, "I can't. I'm going to fuck it up, I know I am, so I should just..."
"Take a deep breath," Kurt interrupted. "You are going to take a deep breath and you are going to be fine and you are not going to fuck it up. No more than the rest of us do."
"What the hell do I know about how to be a husband? I only just managed the whole 'boyfriend' thing."
"You know about as much as we did," Blaine added. "But, like us, you'll figure it out."
"If we're half as happy as you guys are then I'll be, well, happy."
"Don't do that," Kurt said. "Don't compare yourself to anyone, OK? You and Rosie are your own people, your relationship is yours and it's unique to you."
"What if she doesn't show?" Ben asked, panic flashing in his eyes.
"She'll be there," Blaine laughed, putting a reassuring hand on Ben's shoulder. "Besides, Amelia will drag her there if she has to. She's been too excited about being a bridesmaid."
"Were you this nervous?"
"First or second time?" Kurt asked.
"Well, you were both drunk the first," Ben said. "Can we try that?"
"And have you fall over during the vows? That will go down well," Kurt laughed. "But one for Dutch courage won't hurt." He nodded to Blaine who headed into the kitchen to grab the bottle and glasses. "And the second time? Yeah, I was still nervous. Even though I knew how much he loved me, even though I knew we both wanted it and that he wouldn't do that to me, I was still nervous."
"And at what point did you stop feeling like you were going to be sick?" Ben asked.
"Lie to him," Blaine called quickly from the kitchen.
"Pretty quickly," Kurt said with a grin. "But trust me, it's natural."
"And it's worth it," Blaine added when he returned with three glasses containing large measures of whiskey. "Even the bad parts are worth it."
"Think I gave you plenty of those," Ben said as he accepted his glass.
"Still worth it," Kurt said. "And we don't regret a single moment."
"Thank you." Ben's voice was low but full of emotion and it made his dads stop for a moment. "Because of you I got a home and a family and I got to go to college and I have a job I love and a woman I adore and... if you hadn't taken a chance on me then none of this would have happened."
"I wouldn't call it taking a chance," Blaine said, his gaze moving from his son to his husband. "Because sometimes, even though you don't realise it, you know."
"To Vegas," Kurt toasted.
"To diner burgers," Ben added.
"To boxing gloves," Blaine finished.
The three glasses chinked together and they took large mouthfuls before the bell rang, letting them know their car had arrived.
*
The first thing Blaine was aware of when consciousness crept over him was just how much his head hurt. His skull felt heavy, like it was trying to sink into the pillows and he was happy to let it because it would distract him from the churning in his stomach.
Now that he was awake his body was intent on telling him exactly what was wrong with him; carpet tongue, steel skull with Jamaican Kettle Band in residence, stomach stuck on a rollercoaster.
Hello hangover.
"Morning."
"Morning," he replied.
"Water's on the side."
Blaine reached out, groping around on the table until he found the glass. He sat up enough so that he could drink without spilling it everywhere.
"How much do you remember?" Kurt asked.
"Well, I think there was a wedding," he joked.
"Very much so. You made a speech."
"Did I embarrass him?"
"Of course you did," Kurt laughed.
"Good. My work here is done, I can die in peace," Blaine muttered as he rolled over and curled up against Kurt's body.
Kurt's laugh shook his whole body which made Blaine feel a little worse but he wasn't moving for anything. He knew that after a little more sleep and a shower and some breakfast he'd feel better.
As he felt Kurt's arms close around him he breathed in deeply and allowed his body to settle into sleep again. The band packed up after their set and let his memory sift through the memories of yesterday; of absolute pride and love, of knowing that they had done right by their son.
*
"And to my dads, the best men I have ever known... All I can say is thank you but it doesn't come close to expressing how I feel about you. I grew up in a house with unconditional love and support, with people who helped me to last the distance, work through the hard times together. You guys were there for me when I needed you the most and you let me be my own person.
"It would have been so easy for any of us to walk away but you didn't and you didn't let me. For every curve ball life threw at us we tried the swing, whether we got a hit or not. You listened, we talked and we worked it out.
"And I am who I am today because of that. I want to be the same husband to Rosie that you two are to each other. I want to be the father to our kids that you were to me.
"We were never the traditional family when I was growing up and so my darling wife will have to forgive me while I break tradition once more. Ladies and gentlemen, will you please raise your glasses in toasting the two people who really did make today possible in every way.
"My parents, Kurt and Blaine."
~fin~
Author : Jen
Rating : NC-17 overall (language & stuff that happens in a marriage...!)
Pairing : Kurt/Blaine AU
Series : sequel to Vows
Word Count : ~8,600 (this part) / ~39,000 (overall)
Spoilers : as it's an AU, none. But there's so many spoilers for "Vows" so can I suggest that if you've not read that first that you go do so. It's fine. We'll wait. Canon-wise it's references to stuff that if you've seen the episode in question you'll know about it.
Summary : Kurt and Blaine have survived a lot. A Vegas wedding to a stranger, a cross-country journey of discovery, and coast-to-coast separation. They came through all that to a second marriage, one that has been happy and successful for two years. The next logical step is parenthood. Only kids are rarely logical.
<< Part 3
*
Blaine was already feeling the strain of being back at work and was starting to wonder how it would be when the kids started back next week. On the plus side, he mused as he mustered the energy to climb up the steps, at least he would have Amelia for company. It would be strange, not having Ben around, dropping in to his classroom during lunch or after school, ostensibly for no reason at all but Blaine knew, he knew that Ben just wanted to spend time with him. Time Blaine was happy to spend with his son.
For a moment he caught himself just outside the door, key only halfway into the lock.
His son. He had a son.
He had a son and a daughter and a husband and a mortgage and a house and a job he loved in a city that was home. He had friends and a life that he adored and was everything that he never knew he wanted. Or needed.
Pulling himself out of his soppy daydream he pushed the key all the way in and turned the lock. Once the door was shut behind him he dropped his messenger bag while he toed off his shoes before hanging up his coat. Then he took the few steps along the hallway to his bedroom door and pushed it open.
Amelia bolted off the bed and had wrapped her arms around his waist before he even had time to think.
"Sweetie?" he managed to say when his brain caught up with himself. This was not right, this was about as wrong as it could get. She'd not clung to him this tightly since that day at the school a lifetime ago. "Amelia, honey?"
She wasn't moving, she wasn't doing anything except clinging to him and when Blaine forced himself to still and wait for her he could feel the tell-tale shakes of quiet tears. He wanted to hold on to her and never let go, he wanted to grab her and shake her and make her tell him exactly what had her hiding away in his room (the bed was covered with her toys and books and the TV was playing her favourite DVD). He wanted to grab his cell from his bag and call Kurt and have support with whatever this was.
Because she had never, never been like this with them.
But she had been. Once upon a time. He knew all about her history, her mom and dad, and his heart hurt with all the possibilities, none of them good.
"Princess," Blaine said softly after a few minutes. "Honey, what...?"
"I had to stay in here," she said, not pulling away from Blaine. "I had to stay in here and wait for you or Papa to come home. Just like before, I had to wait."
"Before?" Blaine asked, his heart sinking. "What's happened? You know you can tell me anything, honey, and you won't be in trouble and I won't get mad."
"Promise?" she asked, finally pulling back to look up at him. "'cause you can't get mad. If you get mad then it will just get worse."
"I promise, baby," Blaine said, loosening her hold so he could squat down to her level. "I won't get mad and we can make it better."
"Cross your heart?" she asked.
"Cross my heart," he smiled, trying not to let his worry show.
He forced a smile onto his face, knowing that it wasn't reaching his eyes and praying silently to whatever or whoever was listening up there that Amelia not only believed him but that whatever she was going to tell him (and please let her tell him) wasn't that bad.
Because if anyone had laid a finger on her, if anyone so much as touched or hurt his kids, then he would...
"It's Ben," Amelia said and Blaine's worry lurched in a whole other direction. "He's upstairs."
*
Blaine sent two texts after closing the bedroom door behind him. The first was to Kurt (SOS. COME HOME NOW) the second to Rachel (Next time we ask you to look after the kids, check we are home before you just drop them off at the door).
They were supposed to be with Rachel. She was supposed to be here but when she'd dropped them off Ben had opened the door, called out, and then said that Blaine was home. So she'd gone and they'd been home alone for the last hour.
Not that Ben wasn't sensible enough to look after Amelia but they weren't irresponsible parents. Hence Rachel. Then Ben had taken Amelia into the master bedroom with all her things and told her to wait there. She didn't know why and she didn't know what was going on, but Ben had made her promise and a promise to her brother was worth everything. But she knew her brother and she knew something was wrong. Something had been wrong since lunchtime but she didn't know what.
Somehow this was worse. Ben was retreating, he was hiding and that was something he'd not done in a long, long time.
Blaine took the stairs one at a time, treading gently on the boards for some unknown reason. It wasn't that he was trying to sneak up on Ben but he didn't know what he was going to walk in on, he didn't know what Ben was doing and he didn't want to give him the opportunity to hide or dispose of something.
Somehow he'd become that parent.
There was no noise as he approached Ben's door and he had an internal debate for a moment before putting his hand on the handle and pushing it open onto chaos.
Ben was sitting in the middle of his destroyed room: books and papers were everywhere; the bedding on the floor and the mattress pulled from the frame; the posters and frames on the wall had been pulled down and it looked like most of the drawers had been emptied.
"Ben..."
"Get out!" Ben yelled, jumping to his feet. "This is my room and you knock first!"
Blaine recoiled a little but stood his ground as Ben turned on him.
"You think you can just come in here as you please?" Ben snapped. "Get the fuck out."
"What happened?"
"What the fuck do you think happened here?" Ben growled, pulling himself up into Blaine's personal space. He'd gained a few inches during the summer and was pretty much level now. "And here I thought you were the smart one. But then again you got involved with me so..."
"Ben, what happened...?"
"What happened?" he mocked. "What happened? What happened? What the fuck do you think happened, Einstein? What was always going to happen. This is who I am, Blaine. This is pure me. I am hell and I am destructive. I nearly fucked up your marriage and now..."
"Stop it," Blaine said firmly. "This is not you."
"You've known me for five minutes. You have no idea who I am, you have no idea where I come from, what I'm like. You think you've changed me, that you and Kurt rescued me like I'm some fucked up cat you found up a tree."
"So what? These are your claws coming out?" Blaine asked.
"Done it before, you know I have."
"Bullshit," Blaine said firmly.
"What? I trashed my room in the home..."
"So where's the hole in the wall? Where's the broken furniture? I see mess, Ben. I just see a hell of a lot of mess."
"Don't fuck..."
"And then there's the language. You know better, you are better. So you're doing this for a reason."
"And you know that for a reason do you?" Ben asked, stepping back and folding his arms.
"Yeah, I do. And it doesn't matter how long I've known you. I know you. I knew Kurt for a few hours and I married him, I knew you for two minutes and I was giving you my cell number. So how about you tell me what is really going on?"
"How about you just save us the bother and just get rid of me?"
"What?"
"We both know it's just a matter of time. Kurt's got these fucking stupid rules and if I break one I go. Simple as. Think this counts."
"No," Blaine said firmly.
"What?"
"No."
"What the fuck do I need to do?"
"More than create a mess and swear and tell me to send you away."
"Stubborn."
"Have to be to deal with you."
"Why do you bother?"
"Because I love you," Blaine said immediately and for a second he saw the look that passed over Ben's face. "I love you," he repeated softly.
"I can't..." Ben said, the anger dropping from his voice. "Blaine, I..."
"I love you," Blaine whispered, reaching out and putting his hands on Ben's shoulders. "And whatever has happened we can deal with it."
"Why would you...?"
"Because you are my son," Blaine said firmly before pulling Ben against him, holding him tightly as he began to sob. For the second time in an hour Blaine was holding his child as they broke down. "You are my kid and I love you," he whispered, "and whatever is going on, whatever the problem is... even if I can't fix it I wanna know. You are not alone in this, in anything anymore."
"I can't..."
"It's OK," Blaine soothed, his hand running up Ben's back to grab at the back of his neck. "It's OK."
"It's not."
"Yeah, it is."
"It's really not," Ben all but sobbed. "It's not going to be OK and I need to go."
"Why?"
"Because..." he said, forcing the words past the lump in his throat. "Because you're not safe if I stay."
"Ben..."
"Dad's getting out. And he'll come for me. I'm his son and he said that he would come and get me when he got out. And I can't be here when that happens."
Anything else was lost in the tears and the gasps, in the whispered words of love from father to son, held tight and not let go.
*
Eventually they'd sunk to the floor, Blaine still holding on and clutching Ben tightly to his chest. He didn't want to let go and he didn't think Ben wanted to be let go.
"Lauren called at lunch," Ben said eventually. "She told me."
"That your dad is coming to get you?"
"No, he... he told me. It's, like, one of the last things I remember about him. My case worker at the time figured I needed closure so when I asked to see Dad one last time she took me. He promised me that when he got out, whenever that was and wherever I was, he could come and get me. And I'm still in New York, I'm across town from where I grew up, where Dad has lived his whole life... And he will find me."
"He's not allowed near you, you know that?"
"Yeah, and he wasn't allowed to kill Mom but that didn't stop him. He's getting out because some fucking... sorry. Some idiot specialist has said he's got his anger under control, that he wasn't in control of what he was doing. Like that makes everything OK. Like that makes Mom any less dead."
"Why didn't you call me? Or Kurt?"
"...Dunno. Sorry."
"It's fine," Blaine said, shifting his arm a little to brush his fingers across Ben's hair. "Really. You told me, that's what matters."
"I can't have him come here. He won't care..."
"I care," Blaine said firmly. "OK, let's make something clear from the start. You were in what? Four homes before the one I met you in? And I don't know if it actually registered but you are Ben Anderson now. You are my son and there is no way that anyone is taking you from me."
"And to add to that," came Kurt's voice from the doorway, "if anyone did manage to get you away from us don't think for one moment we won't tear the whole world apart to find you and bring you home. Because you're our son."
"What he said," Blaine laughed. "Unless you want to go. Because..."
"No," Ben said firmly and quickly. "No, I don't..."
"Then you're staying and we will deal with this," Kurt said gently.
"I'm sorry. 'bout the mess."
"It'll clean up," Blaine said. "We'll help."
"I made it..."
"We'll still help," Blaine repeated, pressing a firm kiss against Ben's hairline.
"What if I'm like him?" Ben asked so quietly the pair of them wondered if he'd actually said something. "What if...?"
"You're not," Blaine said.
"How can you know that?"
"Because you told Amelia to wait in our room," Blaine explained. "You did what her mom did to protect her. You made sure she didn't see you like this, you made sure she wasn't triggered. You have never not looked out for her."
"She's my sister," Ben said quietly.
"Yeah, she is," Kurt said. "There is someone in this house, in this life, that you put above you. Always. No matter what it costs you, no matter what you have to do. She comes first for you. That makes you your mom if it makes you anyone. Personally I like to think that makes you you.
"You are not that kid from the home. You are..." Kurt sighed and gave a small laugh. "You're ours. Everything else is negotiable OK? And if you've got a moment then Amelia would really like to give her big brother a hug."
"If that's OK?" Amelia asked, sticking her head around the doorframe.
"It's always OK, Princess," Ben said, pulling himself away from Blaine and holding out his arms.
Amelia was in them within seconds and Blaine took the distraction to push himself to his feet, groaning slightly as his body protested at having sat on the floor for so long. He joined Kurt out on the landing, stepping away from the doorframe before he pulled his husband into a tight hug, burying his face into his shoulder.
"God, Kurt..."
"I know, I know. But we'll be fine. We are all going to be fine."
"He is so scared..."
"I know, love, I know," Kurt said quietly.
"He wants to run. I know what that's like, I know... We can't let him run."
"He might want to but he won't. You didn't."
"What if he..."
"If he runs? Then we find him. You ran and I came after you. We will go after him."
"Still. Might barricade the door all the same," Blaine laughed.
"Never letting him out of your sight?"
"Can you put a tracking chip in your children? We should look into that."
"I think they ruled that unethical, sorry love," Kurt laughed, rubbing a hand up and down Blaine's back. "But we are going to deal with it. Without microchips and GPS though."
"How can you be so calm about this?" Blaine asked, pulling back from the hug to look at him. "Oh," he added when he saw that Kurt's eyes were filling up just the same. "I love you."
"I love you too," Kurt replied with a soft laugh.
"No, I really love you. I just... need to tell you."
"Feel free to tell me more often."
"How are we going to deal with this?"
Kurt gave a small shrug and kissed him gently. "Same way Dad dealt with stuff he didn't fully get. Mostly about me and the whole gay thing. Just got on with it."
"Your dad is amazing," Blaine laughed. "If we are half the parents he is I'll be happy."
"Know what Dad told me when I said we were adopting? 'The trick to parenting is simple. You shut up from time to time and you listen. And then you just be there and you be whoever they need you to be'."
"So we shut up and listen to him?"
"We shut up and listen to him," Kurt repeated. "We be whatever he wants and needs."
"I think he wants to move," Blaine laughed softly. "How about we go back to LA? Think that's for enough away?"
"Europe, Australia, whatever he wants," Kurt laughed. "Although maybe not Australia. I don't have the complexion for it." He pulled Blaine back into a hug and just held on for a little while longer. "We're going to be OK."
"I'm scared of what this means for him. If he's going to..."
"He won't," Kurt said firmly. "And even if he does then we will be here to help him. He's our son, remember. No matter what we are his parents, we love him, and that means total and unconditional support."
"About that," Blaine said, pulling back so he could look at his husband again. "You told him you loved him."
"So?"
"So... that's the first time you said it."
"No," Kurt dismissed quickly. "I... I must have..." But now that he was thinking about it he realised that Blaine was right. "Wow," he breathed, stepping back and leaning on the wall for support. "Guess I'm not the parent my dad is."
"Hey, you're great."
"So great that today was the first day I told my kid I love him."
"So great that today was the day that you made it clear to him where he stands with you. On the day when he needed to know, more than ever, that he is safe here with us, that he is wanted and loved? You told him. And it will have meant something."
"You think?"
"I know," Blaine smiled. "How did it feel when I first told you that I loved you?"
"Like... anything was possible. Everything was possible."
"But you knew. Before I said anything, you knew."
"Yeah," Kurt sighed, his lips curving up into a small smile.
"Then trust me on this. He knows. He knows we love him and he knows that we want him here. Why else would he stage this? Trash his room? Swear at me? Try and push every button that we have because what else is going to make us kick him out? Your conditions and my objections, things we put in place at the start to establish boundaries and rules and his place in this home.
"He knew, Kurt. Whether he realised it or not, he knew before tonight that you love him. And he knew, deep down, that we weren't ever going to let him go."
"Then why did he do this?"
"Because he needed to know for certain," Blaine said. "Why do you think I came back to New York? Why did you wait for me outside that coffee house? Why didn't I go any further than the couch? Because even though we knew, somewhere, that we were in love..."
"We just needed a bit of proof," Kurt finished.
"So like you said. We shut up, we listen, and we be whoever he needs us to be. And we make damn sure that he knows we love him."
*
"Don't I get a beer?" Ben joked when Blaine dropped onto the couch next to him with two cans; one soft and one decidedly not so. "If ever I had a day that deserved a beer it's today."
"Sure," Blaine said, laughing when Ben nearly gave himself whiplash. "In about six years. First round on your birthday is on me."
"Spoilsport," Ben sulked, taking the can of Diet Coke and cracking it open. "So come on then."
"Come on what?"
"Do the parent thing. The talk."
"Nope. You get to do the talking."
"Oh god. Really?"
"Excited about High School?" Blaine asked.
Ben turned to look at him, slightly slower this time, with a glare on his face. "Seriously? That's the topic of conversation?"
"I can offer up US foreign and domestic policies, potential winners of the Superbowl, or Broadway musicals as alternatives."
"When Dad was sentenced," Ben said quietly, "I asked my social worker to take me to see him. I wanted to say goodbye and that's when he told me... what he said. And in a way it made things easier because I'd convinced myself he was never getting out. The judge said twenty years but you hear about all the stuff that goes on in jail, what people do to guys who beat on their wives and kids? Plus he could never stay out of trouble.
"But it's not just his parole. He shaved a few years off by ratting out a cellmate and then this psych spends a few hours with him and suddenly he's cured of all his anger problems."
"Sounds like we've been sending you to the wrong therapist," Blaine quipped.
"And suddenly he's out this weekend. Monday at the latest. I'm supposed to be starting school on Monday, not looking over my shoulder to see if he's there, if he's found me.
"I love my life. I never thought I was going to have this. I was never the kid who got an Exit, I was just going to finish school and get a job and now I'm a part of this. You know it took Amelia almost a whole hour to leave my room tonight?"
"She loves you."
"I love her. Never gave her five seconds in the home but..."
"She's worried about you. We all are."
"I know," Ben said quietly. "And I want... I wish I could make... say something..."
"It's fine," Blaine said. "Whenever you figure it out, we're here. Whatever it is."
"I think right now a useable bedroom is top of my list," Ben laughed. "Sorry again..."
"Stop with the apologies, OK? The bedding can be replaced, it'll tidy up and before long it will be..."
"Brand new? Forgotten about? Covered up?"
"Better."
"Better how?"
"Because things don't always stay broken. They get fixed, rebuilt, strengthened. Took Kurt a long time to realise I wasn't going to run when I first got back to New York. Took me a while to realise that he was with me because he wanted to be. But we got there, we got over the hurt, and it got better."
"And is it better now? After..."
"It's getting there. It will be. Because when something cracks you don't just plaster over it. You can't. You fix it and you do whatever it takes to make sure you don't crack it again. And with you? Kurt and I have never just plastered over the cracks, we're trying to make them better. We will do whatever it takes to make them better, to fix them.
"And it doesn't matter how many cracks appear we're not going to stop working on them."
"Why?" Ben asked quietly. "I mean... surely it would be easier, for all of you...?"
"Do I really need to go over it all with you again?" Blaine laughed. He reached over and put his arm over Ben's shoulders, pulling him in close. "Highlights. We love you, you're our son, and this is your home for as long as you want it. And even if you don't, it'll still be your home."
Ben fell silent, resting up against Blaine's chest and listening to his steady breathing. They were still like that when Kurt came in, said he'd done the best with the room but it looked like it was the couch for tonight.
After assuring them that he was fine with it Ben pushed them off to bed, grabbed the blankets from the linen closet, and sat back on the couch, head in hands, and tried to work out his next move.
*
Blaine was aware of a hand on his shoulder, stirring him from sleep.
"'s early," he muttered.
"Blaine," Kurt hissed, "wake up."
"Why?" he said, trying to turn away and bury his face in the pillows.
"Because Ben's gone."
*
"I got up for a drink and he'd gone," Kurt said as he showed Blaine the empty couch which he'd insisted on seeing.
"How long do you think he's been gone?"
"I don't know," Kurt sighed. "Maybe you were right about getting him chipped." He picked up the phone handset and opened the line.
"What are you doing?"
"Calling for a pizza, what do you think?"
"Kurt, wait."
"Our fourteen year old son has run away and you want me to wait before calling the cops?"
"If we can work out where he's gone..."
"Blaine, I know you want to get out there and find him but there are about forty thousand trained police officers in the city."
"All of who he is going to want to avoid, all of who aren't going to know him like we do. Kurt, please. Can we just take a few moments to figure this out? If we can find him..."
"Blaine, love... We can't."
"I know," Blaine breathed, dropping onto the couch. "I thought... I mean, I know he wanted..." He absent-mindedly fingered the edge of the blanket. "I thought I'd got through to him. I thought we had."
"I know, love," Kurt said. "I know."
"I still want to get out there. I'm not sitting back..."
"You think I am?" Kurt cut across with a soft laugh. "Rachel can come over."
"Shouldn't we take Amelia to her? I don't want her surrounded by cops."
"She can go over in the morning. I'm not waking her up at three in the morning, it'd only upset her. Few hours of ignorance won't hurt."
"Maybe if he's back..." Blaine started to say but stopped himself. Even though he had hope he knew it wasn't realistic. Somehow he knew they wouldn't find Ben hiding away in a school locker room. "I'm going to go... check on her..."
"OK," Kurt sighed, looking down at the phone in his hand.
He knew that two minutes could make a difference in cases like this but he understood Blaine's need to see Amelia, to know that she was safe and asleep in her bed. Keeping the phone in his hand he climbed the stairs after Blaine, just for that reassurance himself.
"Kurt," Blaine hissed when he came into view.
He stood in Amelia's doorway and for a second Kurt's heart relocated to his feet as he imagined a second empty bed. He closed the gap quickly and then sagged against Blaine's body as the breath left his body.
Curled protectively around his sister's body Ben was fast asleep on her bed, the two of them barely under the covers.
"Shit," Kurt almost laughed into Blaine's chest. "I don't think I have ever felt this relieved. Or happy."
"I feel like I should be offended by this but strangely I can't bring myself to care."
"My heart is racing."
"Mine too," Blaine breathed, wrapping his arms around Kurt and feeling his body shake and vibrate with nerves and adrenaline and relief. "I am going to kill that boy when he wakes up in the morning."
"Not if I get there first," Kurt whispered. "Come on, love, back to bed."
"Two minutes?"
"You'll be here all night if I let you."
"How can you know that?"
"Because if I don't go back to bed now then I'm going to be here all night myself," Kurt said, stepping back and offering his hand to Blaine. "Come on, love."
*
They returned to bed, finding each other under the covers and curling up the way their children were in the room above them.
"I feel like we should have some kind of plan," Kurt said. "Beyond listening to him. I don't want to be the kind of dad who just packs him off to other people for help. That's supposed to be, in part, my job. Our job."
"Plan for what?"
"I don't know. His temper? Someone to talk to? Maybe there's some clubs or stuff he can do, make some friends?"
"He's got friends at school, he's hardly a loner."
"You know what I mean."
"Yeah, I do. And I think I've got an idea."
"But?" Kurt asked, sensing that it was coming.
"But you know your grand plans for the basement...?"
*
Standing in the doorway, looking at his room, Ben wondered where to start. Most of the clothes had been picked up and put back into drawers or hung up, books piled up to be put away properly later, but there were still papers everywhere, the mattress was propped up and drying out against the wall (there were still shards from the shattered snow globe in places so he would have to be careful).
"It's a mess," came a quiet voice from by his elbow.
"Yeah."
"Want a hand?"
Ben laughed softly. "Thanks, Princess, but I'll be fine."
"I know you will be," Amelia said with a shrug. "I asked if you wanted a hand."
"I don't know where to start. There's so much..."
"Pick somewhere. We'll do it all eventually." She pressed against his hip and only eased off when he draped his arm over her shoulders. "You helped me once. My turn."
"I don't think it works like that," Ben laughed. "I think a lot of this is going to have to go out."
"We can put stuff in my room while you figure out what to do with it." She looked around the room and then patted his stomach with a hand. "After breakfast."
"What?"
"Dad says that breakfast is the most important meal of the day."
"Blaine says a lot," Ben laughed, removing his arm and holding out the hand to her instead. He frowned when she didn't take it. "What?"
"You still call him Blaine."
"...Yeah."
"Why?"
"Because..." Ben started but then couldn't finish it.
"I know they're not our real dads. But they love us and we love them. Right?"
"Of course," Ben assured her, crouching down to her level.
"I know you didn't want to be an Anderson to begin with but now you are and it feels like we should be a real family."
"We are a family, Princess. It doesn't matter what we call each other, they're just titles."
"They're more than that," Amelia said.
"I don't know, it feels... weird. I'm nearly fifteen..."
"So? They're gonna be our dads forever. It won't matter if I'm eleven or twenty one or whatever. They're gonna give me away when I get married, they're going to be our kids' granddads."
"I forget that you're still... young," Ben said, taking both her hands in his.
"Yeah, well. The home does that, doesn't it?" she whispered quietly. "All we wanted while we were there was a home and a family and parents who would love us. And I pictured a mom and dad but I love what we got instead and I love them."
"I know," Ben said, "but Blaine's not dad. He's not..."
"And isn't that a good thing?" she asked. "Our dads, our real dads? If it weren't for them neither of us would be here. And now we have two of them, like it's being made up to us or something."
"Last guy I called Dad destroyed my life," Ben said a little harsher than he'd planned.
"And the last proper home I had wasn't good. I mean, I don't remember much about it but I know I wasn't happy there, I didn't feel safe. I don't think you did either."
"I'm not arguing that things are better here..."
"Then why do you keep fighting us?" Amelia asked. "You and Papa took forever to start getting on, and it took me half an hour to convince you to come up to my room last night. We just want to help you."
"I know, Princess."
"Why do you call me that?" she asked.
"Because you are one," he smiled. "You were always into all that Disney crap in the home, of being rescued by the prince and living happily ever after."
"And it happened, right?"
"You got your happily ever after," Ben smiled. "And I didn't know it then but I do now; you totally deserve this."
"So did you. Same princes who rescued me got you too. Same castle, same life. So if I deserve it then you do too because you and me? We're the same. Same background, same home. Same dads."
"So what? You want me to call them 'Dad' and 'Papa' now?" he asked, his lips curling up in one corner.
"I want you to remember that you're an Anderson too. Papa said he chose Dad's name because he wanted them to be the same. We are the same, Ben. You and me."
"It's not that simple, Princess."
"It could be though," she countered. "I'm starving. Breakfast then we can clear up your room."
She pushed forward and kissed the tip of his nose before turning and walking away, leaving him crouched down in his bedroom. Ben fought back a laugh and rocked back on his heels before pushing to a standing position. Something caught his eye as he turned to leave and he picked his way through the debris of last night to retrieve the card from where it had fallen (been thrown?) behind the desk.
It was one of those insanely cheesy Christmas cards, with two cartoon puppies on the front and an insane amount of snow and holiday cheer. But he'd kept it for the same reason it had been given.
To the best big brother in the world.
Ben had always been very much a guy's-guy. Feelings were things that other people had, especially girls. He didn't talk about them unless it was his love for a football team or a good ice cream sundae. Recently he'd started to talk about love for his family, and last night he'd voiced it - and meant it - but that was recent.
Right?
There had been a protective feeling towards Amelia that day at the school. When he'd come around the corner and seen them surrounding her, when he had seen how scared she was, the heat in his belly flared in a familiar way, his hands curled to fists but for the first time the red and white anger hadn't blinded him but focused him.
No one touches her.
Until last night he'd not fully appreciated how much she meant to him, what lengths he would go to for her. Kurt (Papa? Really? New York may be full of them but Ben was in no way Italian) had said that it showed how much he cared about her.
Looking at the half-tidied mess around him Ben realised that this showed something else. That it wasn't just Amelia he would do anything for.
"If you don't come down I'm eating all the pancakes!" Amelia called up the stairs and he laughed, finally leaving his room.
*
"You realise hiding bodies in the basement is such a movie cliché?" Ben joked as he followed Blaine down the stairs. "Plus you don't have it in you. Kurt, maybe, but you're too soft."
"I like to think I have my moments," Blaine said, pulling the cord to turn on the light. "And maybe I'm not as soft as you think."
"Yeah?" Ben teased but then stopped when he noticed it. "What the fuck is that?"
"A punching bag. And language."
"Since when do we have a punching bag?"
"I have had one since I was a teenager," Blaine replied and then laughed at the look on Ben's face. "You don't know everything about me."
"Clearly," Ben said, his voice still tinged with disbelief. "Why do you have a punching bag?"
"I was... bullied at school. Pretty badly actually. I even got beaten up once."
"Because you were...?"
"Gay? Yeah. And for a long time I was so angry because of it so one day Dad comes home with some gloves and pads and he teaches me a few moves. I took out a lot of my feelings on his hands for a while but when I broke one of his fingers he bought me the bag."
"You broke one of his fingers?" Ben repeated, unable to hide the astonishment in his voice.
"I think he was glad to be able to leave me to it actually," Blaine said, picking up a set of gloves. "He wanted to help but that kind of thing was way out of his comfort zone."
"So that explains why you have it, but why is it up in our basement?"
"Because this is one of those moments when I pass on something to my kid," Blaine replied, holding out the gloves to him. "Get them on, Boxing 101 is about to start."
"Aren't you supposed to strap up your hands or something?"
"I don't have the full kit anymore, but if you like it we can go shopping this afternoon."
"Did it help?" Ben asked as he took the offered gloves. "With how you were feeling I mean?"
"Yeah, it did. Gave me something else to take out my feelings and frustrations on. Got pretty good."
"Yeah, but did you start a fight club?" Ben quipped as he pulled on the first glove.
"Come on now," Blaine joked, "if I did I wouldn't be able to talk about it. And that is a really old joke."
"Yeah, figured I would try and say something you'd understand," Ben shot back. "Can't go around making all these references you don't get."
"Hey, I work with kids. I'm with it."
Ben raised his eyebrows in a way that made Blaine laugh because in that moment he was so like Kurt it was untrue.
"Don't ever say stuff like that again," Ben said, his tone deadly serious. "Otherwise I am going to have to start to pretend I don't know you."
"Noted. Ready?"
"As I'll ever be. Come on then, Fight Club. Show me your moves," Ben teased, holding his gloved hands up.
*
They started slowly, Blaine adjusting Ben's stance so he was grounded before he threw any punches, made sure he wasn't over extending, explained the merits of not throwing everything into a punch from the start, and guided his hands and arms for the first few jabs. It was a scene that had probably happened a million times before and would a million times again; a father stood behind his son, hands over arms, holding and guiding every movement.
When Ben was ready Blaine moved and held the bag while Ben tapped out a few experimental jabs. As his confidence rose the pace increased, as did the intensity of the throws. Within minutes the punches were wild, missing as much as they hit, but Blaine held on while Ben vented every fear onto the leather, absorbed as much of it as he could before his son was crying with exhaustion. And then Blaine moved to hold him just as firmly.
*
Blaine rolled his neck and rubbed at a particularly stiff part as he walked into the family room, heading through to the kitchen.
"Feeling it are we?" Kurt asked as he shoved the mug of coffee in Blaine's direction.
"I need a back rub," he sighed, rolling his shoulders before picking up the mug. "I'm out of practice."
"If you ask nicely later I'll see what I can do about the back rub," Kurt purred suggestively.
"Don't know if I can wait," Blaine sighed, "and I really just want a back rub."
"Oh baby," Kurt mocked, moving behind Blaine and swatting away his hands. "How's this?" he asked as his fingers got to work on the tendons.
The moan that left Blaine's mouth in response was highly suggestive and made them both laugh.
"Settle down," Kurt laughed, kissing the side of his neck. "You know our rating limit."
"I can't help it," Blaine breathed, "you are far too good at this."
"Yeah, well, that's why you married me," Kurt laughed.
"Twice," Blaine added with his own laugh.
"How'd it go?"
"Pretty good. Told him about the clubs he could join and he said he'd think about it. I don't think he's going to be the next middleweight champion but he should do OK. And it'll help him work through some stuff."
"Good idea then?"
"I have them on occasion," Blaine squeaked with mock indignation.
"On occasion. I think this one covers you for the next... five years?"
Blaine reached behind him, trying to grab hold of Kurt but he easily dodged his grasp, leaving Blaine no choice but to turn around. After a few missed attempts his hands latched onto Kurt's side, practiced fingers finding the ticklish spots.
"I can't leave you two alone for five minutes," Ben interrupted, walking past them to the fridge, opening it to grab a bottle of water.
"We're still PG-13," Kurt pointed out, his arms slipping around Blaine's waist in dual purpose; keeping him close and preventing him from a second attack.
"Oh god," Ben muttered as he turned to leave. "My parents are insane. If I make it through the next four years without losing my mind then there's a chance I'll go off to college a somewhat normal person."
"No chance," Blaine laughed.
"Well, with dads like you two the odds are not exactly in my favour," Ben said. "Thanks though. For today."
"Any time," Blaine said.
"He says that now, when he wakes up tomorrow stiff and sore..." Kurt laughed.
"Well you're hardly a young man anymore, Dad. You should take it easy."
"Yeah, well..." Blaine began but then words stilled on his tongue as he watched Ben walk out as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. "Did he just...?" he whispered when they were alone.
"Yeah, he did," Kurt whispered back, nuzzling at Blaine's jaw where it reached his ear. When Blaine turned his head to look at him Kurt could see his hazel eyes were shining with tears. "I think we're gonna be OK, dad."
Blaine smiled widely before leaning in for the kiss, their laughter being swallowed by the other.
*
Epilogue
Four years later Ben stood alone in the family room, taking a last look.
"You're not leaving for good you know," a voice interrupted his thoughts, making him jump slightly. "And Maryland isn't that far away."
"Far enough though," Ben said, turning to face Blaine.
"Far enough for you to be independent but close enough that you can come home when you want."
Ben gave a soft snort. "I know the college fund is pretty well stocked but I don't think it will stretch to frequent flights home."
"You can come home whenever you want, OK?"
"I know, Dad."
"I'm really proud of you, you know that?"
"Really? I wouldn't know given you keep telling me every single day," he laughed. "I get it. Proud of me. Proud that I'm giving back. That you think I'm going to make a great social worker, even if Great-Grandpa Anderson had me down as being some lawyer?"
"You know what he said to me when I told him you were doing Social Work?" Blaine said. "He said that the system needed guys like you to look out for the kids who are just like you."
"Even if I am the cliché. Apparently a high number of kids who were in care themselves have careers in social services."
"You'll be great at it, cliché or not."
"Hope so."
"I know so," Blaine smiled.
"I guess I'm just... worried."
"About what?"
"Being away from home. Away from you guys. What if I...? If things go wrong?"
"Like I said, you can come home any time."
"Easier said," Ben sighed.
"So let's make it a bit easier," Blaine said, moving to the side unit and pulling an envelope from a drawer. "We got this for you. For that kind of situation."
Ben took the envelope and opened it, staring at the credit card inside. "What?"
"For whatever. If you need to speak to someone, if you need to come home, you can do it. We won't ask questions, not unless charges to liquor stores start turning up on the statement."
"This is too much," Ben said, holding the envelope out but Blaine refused to take it. "Dad..."
"Yeah, exactly. Dad. This is the kind of thing we do for our kids, we make sure they're safe. Even if they're not at home all the time."
"Thank you," Ben said quietly, slipping the envelope into his back pocket. "I guess we should..."
"Yeah. Don't want to miss your flight."
"Going to be weird. Not being here."
"It's still home," Blaine said, putting an arm around Ben's shoulders - something which wasn't as easy as it once was. "And it's always going to be here."
"Even if my room isn't?" Ben quipped. "Amelia's got plans to turn it into her closet."
"Now come on, you know that's not going to happen," Blaine said with a grin. "Your dad's got plans for a design studio."
"You're going to make me sleep in the basement at Thanksgiving aren't you?"
"Of course not," Blaine laughed. "That's going to be my office. You might get the couch..."
"That's it, I'm taking your card and running," Ben laughed before swinging around and hugging Blaine properly. "Thank you. For everything."
"Come on, kid," Blaine said softly as he returned the hug. "They're waiting and you know what Amelia's like if we're not on schedule."
*
Six years later Ben was back in the same family room, fussing with the cuffs on his shirt sleeve. "I can't do this," he declared, "I can't. I'm going to fuck it up, I know I am, so I should just..."
"Take a deep breath," Kurt interrupted. "You are going to take a deep breath and you are going to be fine and you are not going to fuck it up. No more than the rest of us do."
"What the hell do I know about how to be a husband? I only just managed the whole 'boyfriend' thing."
"You know about as much as we did," Blaine added. "But, like us, you'll figure it out."
"If we're half as happy as you guys are then I'll be, well, happy."
"Don't do that," Kurt said. "Don't compare yourself to anyone, OK? You and Rosie are your own people, your relationship is yours and it's unique to you."
"What if she doesn't show?" Ben asked, panic flashing in his eyes.
"She'll be there," Blaine laughed, putting a reassuring hand on Ben's shoulder. "Besides, Amelia will drag her there if she has to. She's been too excited about being a bridesmaid."
"Were you this nervous?"
"First or second time?" Kurt asked.
"Well, you were both drunk the first," Ben said. "Can we try that?"
"And have you fall over during the vows? That will go down well," Kurt laughed. "But one for Dutch courage won't hurt." He nodded to Blaine who headed into the kitchen to grab the bottle and glasses. "And the second time? Yeah, I was still nervous. Even though I knew how much he loved me, even though I knew we both wanted it and that he wouldn't do that to me, I was still nervous."
"And at what point did you stop feeling like you were going to be sick?" Ben asked.
"Lie to him," Blaine called quickly from the kitchen.
"Pretty quickly," Kurt said with a grin. "But trust me, it's natural."
"And it's worth it," Blaine added when he returned with three glasses containing large measures of whiskey. "Even the bad parts are worth it."
"Think I gave you plenty of those," Ben said as he accepted his glass.
"Still worth it," Kurt said. "And we don't regret a single moment."
"Thank you." Ben's voice was low but full of emotion and it made his dads stop for a moment. "Because of you I got a home and a family and I got to go to college and I have a job I love and a woman I adore and... if you hadn't taken a chance on me then none of this would have happened."
"I wouldn't call it taking a chance," Blaine said, his gaze moving from his son to his husband. "Because sometimes, even though you don't realise it, you know."
"To Vegas," Kurt toasted.
"To diner burgers," Ben added.
"To boxing gloves," Blaine finished.
The three glasses chinked together and they took large mouthfuls before the bell rang, letting them know their car had arrived.
*
The first thing Blaine was aware of when consciousness crept over him was just how much his head hurt. His skull felt heavy, like it was trying to sink into the pillows and he was happy to let it because it would distract him from the churning in his stomach.
Now that he was awake his body was intent on telling him exactly what was wrong with him; carpet tongue, steel skull with Jamaican Kettle Band in residence, stomach stuck on a rollercoaster.
Hello hangover.
"Morning."
"Morning," he replied.
"Water's on the side."
Blaine reached out, groping around on the table until he found the glass. He sat up enough so that he could drink without spilling it everywhere.
"How much do you remember?" Kurt asked.
"Well, I think there was a wedding," he joked.
"Very much so. You made a speech."
"Did I embarrass him?"
"Of course you did," Kurt laughed.
"Good. My work here is done, I can die in peace," Blaine muttered as he rolled over and curled up against Kurt's body.
Kurt's laugh shook his whole body which made Blaine feel a little worse but he wasn't moving for anything. He knew that after a little more sleep and a shower and some breakfast he'd feel better.
As he felt Kurt's arms close around him he breathed in deeply and allowed his body to settle into sleep again. The band packed up after their set and let his memory sift through the memories of yesterday; of absolute pride and love, of knowing that they had done right by their son.
*
"And to my dads, the best men I have ever known... All I can say is thank you but it doesn't come close to expressing how I feel about you. I grew up in a house with unconditional love and support, with people who helped me to last the distance, work through the hard times together. You guys were there for me when I needed you the most and you let me be my own person.
"It would have been so easy for any of us to walk away but you didn't and you didn't let me. For every curve ball life threw at us we tried the swing, whether we got a hit or not. You listened, we talked and we worked it out.
"And I am who I am today because of that. I want to be the same husband to Rosie that you two are to each other. I want to be the father to our kids that you were to me.
"We were never the traditional family when I was growing up and so my darling wife will have to forgive me while I break tradition once more. Ladies and gentlemen, will you please raise your glasses in toasting the two people who really did make today possible in every way.
"My parents, Kurt and Blaine."
~fin~