The Baby

Courage. Blaine liked to think the word was his catchphrase, his tenet to live by, but it was a far simpler concept when texted to a new friend or written in Sharpie on his lover's sweat-slickened back or whispered in his husband's ear after yet another nightmare. When it was his turn to show courage, to swallow his fear, to be a man, he found himself splashing cold water on his face in their tiny bathroom, ignoring the shaking of his own hands. He knew cognitively that his fear was irrational; it wasn't as though Kurt was going to divorce him for asking a simply question. But that knowledge didn't steady the quaver in his voice when he asked Kurt to sit down with him.

Kurt accepted Blaine's proffered cup of tea and settled onto the couch. He sipped the hot beverage slowly, waiting for the fidgety man to speak. Blaine's gelled hair was mussed by finger tracks and his brow shone slightly with perspiration. Blaine opened and shut his mouth a few times, clearly searching for words, and after a minute, Kurt took pity on his husband. "Blaine. Relax. Speak. I love you, and that is never going to change."

"I want a baby."

Kurt's eyes blew wide and his eyebrows shot up. Blaine slapped a hand over his face. "No, no, no!" he groaned. "Wait, that wasn't supposed to come out likethat." He took both his and Kurt's teacups and set them on the coffee table. He then gathered Kurt's hands in his own and squeezed them tightly, willing the shocked and slightly uncomfortable look on his husband's face to evaporate. "I was supposed to start out by saying how much I love you, and how happy you make me, and how complete I feel being married to you. And then I was supposed to say that I think we should be even more complete by starting a family. And then I'd say I want a baby."

Kurt didn't respond to Blaine's rushed monologue right away. He held onto Blaine's hands and searched the younger man's shining hazel eyes for something that sent a ripple of fearful doubt up Blaine's spine. He had fully prepared himself for the possibility of Kurt saying no, at which point Blaine would of course back off and agree; if they both weren't ready, then they could not have a child. But Blaine was praying to every god neither of them believed in that Kurt would have an open mind. Kurt had expressed rather vehement objections to having children before they got married, and the subject hadn't been broached since. Blaine didn't know what Kurt's specific reservations about children were.

Kurt finally looked away from Blaine's eyes, biting his lip. "Blaine…"

Blaine leaned forward. "Look, I know you don't like kids—"

"I never said that," Kurt interrupted, his head twisting back to face Blaine. "I…don't dislike kids. It's just…"

Blaine slid forward on the couch so their knees touched. "Hey. What is it?"

"I'm going to be a terrible father," Kurt whispered.

In retrospect, throwing his head back and laughing was probably not Blaine's wisest decision. Kurt's face darkened and he leapt from the couch, stalking to the window. "Kurt, wait," Blaine pleaded, quickly following. "I'm sorry. I wasn't laughing because that's a funny concern, but because it's totally unwarranted. You're going to be the best father."

"I'm a cold person!" Kurt snapped, whipping around. Blaine shrank back in apology. "They called me Ice Queen in high school for a reason, and it wasn't because of the slushies. I don't warm up to people quickly, and I have trouble connecting emotionally. I'm not as open and loving as you are, Blaine! What if—" He bit his lip again, fighting tears. "What if I can't love my own child?" The tears spilled over, and Kurt fell into Blaine's open arms, which automatically pulled him close and guided him to the couch. Blaine rocked his husband back and forth as all of his fear, his doubts, his insecurities, his pain poured out over Blaine's cardigan.

Eventually, the sobs faded into sniffles, which dissolved into hiccups, and Kurt pulled back. Blaine placed his hands on either side of Kurt's face and spoke slowly. "Kurt. Elizabeth. Hummel. You listen to me. You are the most passionate, caring, emotional, loving person I have ever met. When someone has been deemed lucky enough to have your love, you move heaven and earth to protect them. You have a tender, all-encompassing, unconditional love that so few people possess. There is no chance in hell that you won't love our child."

"I'm scared."

Kurt's tiny voice broke Blaine's heart. "You think I'm not? You think I'm not petrified? Kurt, if we do this, we will have another person in our house, one hundred percent dependent on us. We'll probably never have sex again." That earned Blaine a smile. "We'll have to explain to this kid why all his or her friends have a mommy and a daddy but he or she has two daddies. I'll have a second person I'll protect with my life. That's terrifying. You're not alone in your fear, and you won't be alone in raising our child, and I won't be alone in loving him or her."

Kurt flung his arms around Blaine's neck. "Okay."

Blaine thought his grin would split his face in two. "Really? You sure?"

"I'm sure." Kurt leaned back, gripping Blaine's biceps. "I want you to be the biological father."

Blaine's eyebrows shot upward as shock colored his face. "I—don't you—what about adoption?"

Kurt shrugged. "Maybe if we have a second child."

"Sec—second child?" Blaine spluttered. "Not five minutes ago you were dead set against having one, and now you're planning two?"

"Relax," Kurt laughed, "I was speaking hypothetically. I just think that our first child should be related to one of us. Not that we'd love an adopted child less, but…I don't know. I can't get over the idea of holding a miniature you—well, an even more miniature you—" Blaine shoved his shoulder. "—and singing her to sleep."

It couldn't be possible to fall even further in love with him after all those years. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

Her name was Aly, and she was gorgeous. She was the third potential surrogate presented to the Anderson-Hummels by their agent at the Manhattan branch of Expanding Families, and they were immediately taken with her. It was astonishing how closely she resembled Kurt; her skin glowed a soft porcelain, her thick chestnut locks cascaded past her shoulders, her eyes shone an iridescent blue, her legs travelled for miles.

The twenty-one-year-old's wit kept them in stiches. The fact that she had just graduated from Steinhardt Department of Music seemed too good to be true. She was funny, she was smart, she was beautiful, and she was theirs.

"What would prompt a successful college student like yourself to carry a child for strangers?" Blaine asked, settling back on the couch in a posh Expanding Families office. "Gay strangers, no less."

Aly smiled. "First of all, your sexualities do not matter to me. Hell, I'm in the music business; I can't avoid gay people if I tried." Her laugh was melodious. "I need the money so I can move to LA. I love New York, but…my chances of being signed onto a label out there are higher. We can't all be Broadway superstars." She winked.

"I like her," Kurt told his husband after the meeting ended half an hour later.

"I don't know…"

Kurt frowned. "What is it?"

"Don't you think she's a little…too perfect?"

"You are such a cynic!"

"This coming from the man who still believes that Sabrina being kicked off Dancing With the Stars was a Gamemaker-esque conspiracy."

"It's a reasonable theory!"

Blaine leaned back into the sofa and sighed. "I guess I'm being paranoid. I think it's the fact that I'm going to be impregnating this girl that's freaking me out."

"Mm, that's the fun part." Kurt's fingers slowly crawled up Blaine's thigh. "You go into a little room, just you and a cup and your thoughts of…oh, I don't know, a handsome small-time fashion designer with great legs and a talented mouth?"

"Ugh, if only such a person existed." Blaine ducked as Kurt tossed a throw pillow at him.

The process took forever—five sperm donations (which got more fun after Kurt decided to help) and over a year of waiting. Wishing. Crying. The Anderson-Hummels swore to themselves each time Aly was inseminated that they wouldn't get their hopes up, but every time Aly called their apartment with a negative pregnancy test, Kurt held his sobbing husband for hours, fighting tears of his own.

One afternoon in mid-September, Kurt was reclining on the couch, sketch pad propped against the easel of his knees. The phone rang beside him, and he picked it up without taking his eyes off of his shading. "Kurt Anderson-Hummel."

"KURT!"

The sketch pad and pencil fell to the floor. "Aly? What's wrong?"

"GET TO THE CLINIC!"

Then she hung up.

Kurt flew through the apartment, throwing on shoes and a jacket before running out the door, phone pressed to his ear. He choked through an explanation to his husband before agreeing to meet at the Expanding Families Fertility Clinic. After the longest cab ride of his life, Kurt darted into the chic building. He gave his name to the receptionist and was directed toward the second-floor examination room in which they usually had appointments. When he got there, Aly was lying on the examination chair, dressed in a hospital gown. Beside her sat Dr. Mark Jones, the good-looking fertilization specialist assigned to the family.

"What's wrong?" Kurt demanded, confused by Aly's poorly hidden grin.

"We should wait for your husband, Mr. Anderson-Hummel," Dr. Jones insisted. "Have a seat."

Kurt threw himself into the chair beside the door just as Blaine burst through it, panting, "I'm here! I'm here. What happened?" He spotted Kurt and sat beside him, hands linking automatically.

Dr. Jones looked at Aly. "You want to tell them?"

"I'M PREGNANT!" the now-twenty-two-year-old yelled, clapping in excitement.

Both men sat frozen for a long moment. Then with a delighted squeal, Kurt leapt from his chair and wrapped his arms around Aly, lifting her bodily from her seat and spinning her in an elated circle. The two laughed brightly and made fairly inhuman noises.

Dr. Jones noticed Blaine's silence. "Mr. Anderson-Hummel?"

Kurt turned back to his husband to find the younger man's jaw dropped and eyes wide. "Blaine?" he asked cautiously.

Blaine looked up, eyes glistening. "We're gonna be daddies, Kurt."

Laughing again, Kurt pulled Blaine from the chair and kissed him soundly, earning a playful catcall from their surrogate. "We're gonna be daddies."

Suddenly, everything was real. The husbands quickly found a two-story townhouse with three bedrooms and insisted Aly move in with them. The three spent the first trimester transferring the men's belongings from the old apartment. After that, Kurt went to work on the nursery, choosing gender-neutral pale yellow walls and lush purple carpeting. In elegant, swirling, sage green script, Kurt painted a line from his favorite lullaby above the large white crib: Someday we'll all be gone, but lullabies go on and on. They never die; that's how you and I will be.

Kurt may also have gone a little overboard with the baby clothes shopping.

"We don't even know the sex yet!"

"Fashion has no gender, Blaine!"

"Look, I don't mean to be sexist or anything, but you are not putting my son in a white-laced dress."

Aly settled in flawlessly. She insisted on helping out around the house and happened to be an excellent cook. Blaine loved to use her stunningly versatile alto to write harmonies for his music. She always went out with friends at least once a week to give the fathers-to-be some "alone time," considering they'd lose the entire concept after the birth. Despite her insistence that both men keep working, at least one of them (but usually both) attended every single doctor's appointment.

The husbands decided to wait to find out the baby's sex, stating that it was irrelevant and up to the child to figure out its own gender. Aly, on the other hand, was curious as hell, and asked Dr. Jones to tell her. Kurt threatened her with withholding peanut-butter-covered pickles if she spilled the beans.

Thirty-eight weeks into the pregnancy, the entire Anderson-Hummel household buzzed with energy. Kurt had gone crazy with supply-buying, and the three were drowning in diapers and baby powder. Blaine cleaned the townhouse from top to bottom, stopping only when the overwhelming aroma of Lysol and bleach made Aly nauseous. The two refused to let Aly stay on her feet for any significant amount of time, and the woman joked that she'd refuse to let the baby come out if they kept pampering her like that.

One such night, Aly was stretched out on the couch, feet being massaged by Kurt as the two watched reruns of America's Next Top Model. Blaine has sequestered himself in the music room. The evening was quiet and sleepy.

Until Aly let out a pained groan and clutched at her head. Kurt immediately paused the television and reached for her. "Al? What's wrong?"

"My…my head," she whispered. "Everything is dizzy." She gasped painfully.

"BLAINE!" Kurt rushed to support Aly so she didn't fall off the couch as she began to writhe.

The younger man charged into the living room. When he took in his husband's panicked eyes and the surrogate's excruciating pain, he snatched Kurt's cell phone off the coffee table. Thirty seconds later, an ambulance had been summoned.

"I'm…ugh," Aly moaned.

"Blaine, I think she's going to throw up."

Blaine stuck the trash bin under her chin just as she vomited.

Aly continued to shake and scream in agony as they waited for the ambulance. Kurt pressed cool washcloths to her forehead while Blaine paced in the foyer, cursing New York traffic. Eventually, though, the sirens came into earshot, and a pair of paramedics rushed into the house.

"What happened?"

"I don't know!" Kurt sobbed. "One minute she was fine, and the next, this!"

The paramedics whisked the pregnant woman out of the townhouse, informing the distraught husbands that they were taking Aly to Downtown Hospital. Kurt gathered the go bag they'd had packed for weeks, and then the two bolted for a cab. Because they left so soon after the vehicle carrying their surrogate did, the Anderson-Hummels made fairly good time following the flashing lights. They parked quickly and sprinted into the emergency room.

"Aly Hall," Blaine demanded, panting heavily. He heard an all-too-familiar shriek of pain from down the hall, and he started for the surrogate.

"Sir, wait!" the receptionist cried. "You can't go back there!"

"That woman is carrying our baby! Don't tell me—"

"Blaine." Kurt's whispered plea gave Blaine pause. He wrapped his arms around a shaking Kurt just as a scrub-clad doctor strode through the emergency wing doors. "Misters Anderson-Hummel?"

"Is Aly okay?" Kurt asked.

"Come with me."

The husbands followed the annoyingly enigmatic doctor to an operating room. Through the windows in the doors they could see a team of nurses bustling about. The doctor stopped them before they could enter. "Your surrogate is suffering from preeclampsia. This mean her blood pressure is dangerously high. Unfortunately, this also means we are going to have to deliver the baby early."

Blaine clutched his husband's hand. "Is that safe?"

"Two weeks is a little early, but not so much so that the child will have significantly increased health risks."

A particularly alarming shout erupted from the room behind the doctor, and Kurt begged, "Can we go see her?"

The doctor frowned apologetically. "This is going to be a difficult, dangerous, painful birth. Any extra people in there would increase risks greatly." Kurt swallowed thickly and nodded. "There is a private waiting room just down that hall. I'll come back to update you every chance I get." With a rueful smile, the doctor retreated into the delivery room.

Kurt carefully ushered his heartbroken husband the dozen or so yards to the indicated waiting room, arms wrapped around his shoulders and voice making soothing shushing sounds in his ear. When Blaine was settled in a chair, Kurt knelt in front of him, grabbing his hands and gripping them atop his thighs. "Hey. Hey, look at me, hey." Blaine blinked down at Kurt's trying-to-be-hopeful-just-ignore-my-tears expression. "Everything is going to be okay. The baby will be fine, Aly will be fine, and we'll all go home, okay?"

"You don't know that." The crack in Blaine's voice shattered Kurt's soul.

"Yes I do."

"How?"

"Because that baby? That baby is fifty percent Blaine Anderson, and Blaine Anderson is nothing if not a fighter."

Blaine crumbled into Kurt's waiting arms. The two held each other for an eternity on the floor of the hospital waiting room.

"I was wrong, you know."

Blaine lifted his head from Kurt's shoulder, eyes long since run dry. "About what?"

"This kid doesn't even exist yet, and I can't even comprehend how much I love it."

About fifteen minutes later, the still nameless doctor pushed open the door. "They're fine," he declared as the new fathers scrambled to their feet. "They're both perfectly fine."

Kurt collapsed against Blaine's side. The younger man's arms encompassed him. "Can we see them?"

The scrubbed man nodded brightly. "Follow me." The two left the room, but instead of heading back toward the delivery room, they retreated farther into the building, stopping a few doors down from the room they just left. The doctor opened it for them. The husbands exchanged nervous looks and shaky breaths before pushing inside.

The room held a single bed, and in it Aly lay sleeping, looking particularly worse for the wear. Beside her, in a plastic crib, lay a tiny bundle swaddled in white and green. A nurse lifted this bundle from the crib and approached the trembling fathers. "Misters Anderson-Hummel, meet your baby girl."

Blaine let out a hysterical giggle or sob or something while Kurt stared on, eyes the size of saucers. "Can I…?" Blaine reached his arms out tentatively.

"Sure." The nurse gently passed Blaine the baby. "Support her head."

If Kurt wasn't currently in such a bone-deep state of awe, he would have laughed at the incredible look of concentration on Blaine's face. He held the little girl as if she were made of glass—which, according to them for the rest of their lives, she was.

Kurt stepped behind his husband and dropped his chin on his shoulder, arms snaking around his waist. He looked down at the alien in his husband's arms. The baby was tiny, so tiny she didn't seem real. Small tufts of jet black hair covered her pale head. Her button nose wrinkled as her eyes fluttered open and shut. Blaine let out a nearly inaudible gasp when he saw the girl's glasz eyes, impossible carbon copies of Kurt's. The infant squirmed in Blaine's arms for a moment, and then turned into her father's chest with a sigh.

"Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"She is never allowed to date."

Kurt reverently took the baby from his husband a few minutes later, settling into a large armchair beside Aly's bed, which Blaine perched upon. "Is she going to be okay?" Blaine asked, taking the surrogate's hand.

The doctor smiled. "She's just tired. Her blood pressure is back to safe levels, though still a little high. She'll be just fine."

A nurse entered the room with a packet of paper. "Does this little beauty have a name?"

The new fathers exchanged a long look and a soft smile. "Elizabeth," Blaine murmured.

Kurt looked back down at his daughter. "Elizabeth Cooper Anderson-Hummel."

The nurse wrote the information on Elizabeth's birth certificate, and then placed the pile on a counter. "We'll get the rest of these signed once Aly wakes up." Then she, the doctor, and the nurse who handed Blaine Elizabeth left the room, leaving the new family and the sleeping surrogate behind.

"Blaine," Kurt whispered, "why is she so beautiful?"

"I want to know how she looks so much like you. You're not even biologically related!"

"I'm talented like that." Elizabeth yawned and turned over in Kurt's arms. "Thank you."

Blaine's eyes lifted from his little girl to his husband. "What?"

"Thank you for talking me into this, and for giving me the most beautiful little girl in the whole world."

Blaine leaned down to press his lips to Elizabeth's forehead, and then kissed Kurt soundly. "Thank you for being the only man in the universe I would ever want to start a family with."

Burt and Carole arrived before the day was out, looking haggard from their flight from Lima but ecstatic nonetheless. When they crept into the hospital room, Blaine was reclining in the armchair, just as asleep as the infant on his chest, and Kurt was stepping out of the bathroom. Motioning for them to be quiet, Kurt ushered his parents out of the room, softly closing the door behind them. He quickly led the way to the empty private waiting room, where he was immediately grabbed into an engulfing hug. "Congratulations, son!" Burt exclaimed.

Kurt laughed somewhat hysterically. "Well, I had the easy job."

"Believe me, there's nothing easy about waiting for a baby."

Carole kissed his cheek before saying, "I see Blaine is tuckered out."

"Yeah." The new father and grandmother sat down while Burt made coffee. "The birth was difficult. There was a while there when we...we didn't..." Kurt choked up. "We didn't know if they were going to make it."

Carole wrapped her arms around her stepson, making shushing noises in his ear. She took the coffee Burt passed her and pressed it in Kurt's hands. "It's okay," she murmured. "They're okay."

Kurt sniffled. "I know. I know how lucky I am. My emotions are just really fried right now."

"Think we could see my adorable grandbaby now?" Burt asked gruffly.

Laughing, Kurt stood. "Yeah, come on. You're going to love her." He led the way back to Aly's hospital room, only to find the adults inside wide awake. "Hey," Kurt called softly, smiling at the sight of his surrogate holding his child. "Looks like you're feeling better."

Aly grinned tiredly. "How could I sleep with such preciousness in the room?"

"You did good, son," Burt said, clapping Blaine on the shoulder as he stared down at his granddaughter. Blaine looked like he was going to cry again.

Kurt lifted the baby from Aly's arms. "Dad, Carole...meet Elizabeth Cooper Anderson-Hummel." He passed the child to Burt, who took her with utter amazement.

"Elizabeth?" he breathed.

"Of course," Kurt replied. "I love you, Carole, so, so much, but I wanted my daughter to have a connection to the grandmother she'll never be able to meet." Carole nodded understandingly.

"And we picked my brother's name for her middle one because after reconnecting in high school, Coop's been the greatest big brother a man could ask for," Blaine explained. "He's on his way here; he was in the middle of filming when we called him, and didn't pick up until several hours later. But he'll be here."

"Welcome to the world, baby girl," Burt whispered down to the most beautiful baby in the universe.

Elizabeth Aly Anderson-Hummel entered her home for the first time when she was three days old, her Uncle Cooper following her parents with a video camera. ("I look like hell, Cooper, put that thing away." "You're going to thank me for this when she's gone off to college." "Oh God, college!" "Nice going, Cooper. You're scaring your brother.") Her mother was staying in the hospital for a few more days, as per doctor's orders, but Aly was to live with the new family until her LA plans were finalized and executed.

The fathers laid their baby to sleep in her crib, staring unabashedly for a good five minutes before Carole forced them out. They collapsed on their bed, allowing Carole to clean and Burt and Cooper to catch up on the baseball scores, and barely managing to climb out of the clothes they'd been wearing for two days. They curled around each other, Blaine's arms quickly encircling Kurt's waist and Kurt's head on Blaine's chest. Within seconds, their eyes were closed.

"Kurt?"

"Mhm."

"We have a family."

"We're daddies."

"Holy shit."

"Eloquent."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"I love our baby."

"I love our family."

They slept.

So this was a long one. It was thirteen pages handwritten and just over ten typed. So I hope you enjoyed it. I wrote this instead of doing anything in school.

Sorry this update took so long, but I've been super busy. Just know that I'm updating instead of writing scholarship essays, so be grateful.

It should be known that my personal belief is that any couple who cannot physically reproduce on their own should adopt, not use in vitro or surrogates, simply because there are millions of children all over the world who don't have homes, and if you're going to spend a shit ton of money on a child, spend it on one who already exists. Also, overpopulation is a huge fucking problem, and the last thing we need is another human sucking up resources. Jussayin'.

That being said, I COULDN'T NOT GIVE MY BOYS A BABY THAT LOOKS LIKE THEM I MEAN COME ON.

You may see Aly again, you may not. I haven't decided. I'm looking at my plans now, and a) I put something in here that isn't supposed to happen until the next chapter, so thank god I checked; b) I put something in here that wasn't supposed to happen for another two chapters, but really it makes more sense in here, so I kept it, eliminating one future chapter; c) in two chapters, there will be some serious angst, so prepare yourselves; and d) there should be fourteen chapters total. But if I keep fucking myself up, that might change.

JFC since Friday I've read Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green and David Levithan, The Land of Stories: The Wishing Spell by I shouldn't have to tell you who because you're in the Glee fandom for fuck's sake, and The Bermudez Triangle by Maureen Johnson. Holy. Shit. They were all so damn good. I read each of them during school (and aced all my tests, thank you very much), and I'm quickly earning myself the reputation of That Girl Who Reads While She Walks in the Hallway (which I do to a much higher degree of success than the people who just walk normally, it should be noted). Imma read Feed by MT Anderson next, and Let It Snow by John Green, Maureen Johnson, and Lauren Myracle on Friday. AND THEN I'LL BE OUT OF NEW BOOKS OH GOD SOMEONE HOLD ME OR BETTER YET GIVE ME MONEY.

ANYWAYS, I gots to go. Love you all!

PERSONAL TUMBLR: klainebowsandquirrelmort
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EDIT: I owe KlaineGleek119 a huge debt of gratitude. When I sat down and planned this fic out months ago, I decided that Klaine's little girl's name was going to be Elizabeth Cooper Anderson-Hummel. And then I fucking forgot. I decided to name her Elizabeth Aly after her surrogate (who was named after Alison, obv.), WHICH I DIDN'T LIKE BECAUSE VOWELS. But then KG119 reminded me what a dumbass I am, so I edited it, and then added some bonus Cooper at the end! Okay, sorry for bothering you, go back to your regularly scheduled fangirling.

BUT JFC IF YOU HEARD ABOUT THE MOST RECENT 4X04 SPOILERS HMU 'KAY?!