A/N: Yes, I do have 4 WIPs right now. And yes, I have just finished this one-shot.

It begged to be written. And I needed a break. So this came to me. Also, I'm finally writing from Blaine's POV! I love Kurt – I have since I started watching Glee – so my allegiance immediately goes to him. But I love Blaine all the same… so out came this.

And I'm sorry. I keep doing this, I know. I got a review for Sight asking me if I enjoy frustrating my readers. Easy answer? Yes. ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Blaine leaned against the bedroom door, watching his phone try to commit suicide. It had kept ringing – both his ringtone and text jingle had started annoying the hell out of him, so he'd turned it onto vibrate – and he was seriously considering turning it off entirely.

He knew he was shutting everyone out, but he couldn't care. He needed to get his mind around it, accept the fact that if he hadn't been less of an idiot he wouldn't be in this situation. But, he couldn't change it now.

He'd picked up his phone the first time around. It had been Wes, full of sympathies and worry. He didn't want that. All the pitying words had just made it all the more worse. Somehow, it made him feel like he should have known, that he should have seen that this was happening and done something to stop it. Made Kurt switch flights because it was a bad flight, at least done something. So that he didn't have to deal with this.

He didn't care about himself so much as Hannah. Kurt was her father – her real father. And now he'd have to face her, look into her shockingly blue eyes and see the pain there, and know that he could have stopped that. That he could have saved her the pain that he knew Kurt suffered every day.

And right now, he pretty much hated himself.


Blaine knew that Hannah was only meant to be staying with Burt and Carole for the afternoon, but afternoon had dragged into evening, and he couldn't bear to get up, walk out and pick her up. Try to pretend that everything was okay, because he knew they wouldn't tell her. They believed that he should.

And they were right, but it didn't make his dread lessen in any way. He knew he needed to tell her the truth. She was six. She understood the word death, and she'd understand that it was Kurt's time.

The trouble was, Blaine wasn't sure if he understood himself.

So he'd sent off a quick text to Burt, asking him to keep her overnight. Of course Burt had agreed, although he was hurting too. He would know.

Blaine couldn't. He just couldn't. Hannah wasn't his. He wasn't related to her, and it just… it hurt. To see her – so alike her father – and know that he could have stopped Kurt dying. One more second was all it would have needed to save him. To still have Kurt in his arms, instead of a burning plane somewhere.

Blaine sighed, settling against the door in their bedroom. It was painful, and he should probably move to the bed. But he couldn't. He just couldn't – not when the pillows still smelt like Kurt, and his presence was still there and yet not at all. No, Blaine was going to stay here.


Blaine lifted his head, rolling it around experimentally. It was definitely painful, but he could cope.

Blaine finally stood up, realizing that he hadn't eaten at all last night. Slowly, as if a sudden movement would destroy the rest of his world, he pushed the door open and padded towards the kitchen.

Opening the fridge, his eyes fell on a foil wrapped dish, with a large yellow square sticky note on top. Pulling it out, Blaine read it carefully.

Because I know you won't bother cooking her dinner from scratch. There's enough here for both of you. Just heat it up. K xx

And that was when the tears began to fall. Because Kurt had been in such a rush that morning, and yelling at Blaine to keep an eye on Hannah, and other instructions, but he'd still thought ahead to make them dinner.

Blaine carefully removed the foil, knowing that that could be one of the last things Kurt touched in this flat. It was a lasagna, and Blaine smiled, in spite of himself. Kurt knew how much both Blaine and Hannah loved lasagna, and Kurt was just so wonderful that way.

Almost out of instinct, Blaine shut the fridge and reached into the cupboard, but his fingers met another yellow sticky note.

Don't even think about it. I love you. I'll be back before you know it. K xx

All of Blaine's appetite disappeared. Kurt had assumed nothing would go wrong, but it had. It had, and Kurt was gone. Blaine slid down to the floor, his head resting once again against a door, and finally sobbing for his loss.


Blaine's head had just banged against the door when there was a loud insistent rapping on his front door, accompanied with the obnoxious doorbell.

"Open this door right now!" Mercedes was yelling. "I know you're in here, Blaine Anderson, and you need to open it right now!"

Blaine was tired of fighting her – it had been a great game while Kurt was alive, but all the life of it seemed to disappear with Kurt. So, groaning, Blaine got up and pulled the door open.

Mercedes' eyes were red too, but she was more put together than Blaine could ever hope to be. That was another reason he wasn't leaving the flat. He had always come across to the world as composed, put together. Kurt was the only one who'd seen him vulnerable, and he wasn't going to let that change. No. He was staying here until he could get a decent hold on his emotions.

Blaine leaned against the door frame, looking at Mercedes. He wasn't going to say anything. She'd say what she wanted to say when she wanted to say it, and there was no point in him deflecting it or hurrying it along.

"Care to tell me why that child – your daughter – is spending this week with her grandparents and has no idea that one of her fathers is dead?" Mercedes demanded.

"She's not my daug –" Blaine started to mutter.

"Stop that. I don't care about that side of things, and neither does she. You both raised her, you were both her daddy, and you shouldn't care less who fathered her, Blaine, because she sure doesn't!" Mercedes cut in. "She needs you. What does this say about you? When she looks back on this. Kurt lost his mother, and he distinctly remembered Burt holding him every night for the first month. What's she gonna remember? Her father carting her off to her grandparents because he doesn't love her enough."

"That's not true!" Blaine snapped, finally angry. "I love her just as much as Kurt loved her." Damn. The tears are starting to come again.

"Then get in your car, drive to Burt and Carole's and explain to her. Explain that her daddy's dead, but you're still here, and you're not going to leave her."

Blaine shoved past Mercedes. He had to. He had to tell her. Because Mercedes was right. Leaving Hannah with Burt and Carole meant that he didn't want to look after her anymore. And that was as far from the truth as you could get.


Blaine finally pulled up into their driveway, starting to dread seeing Hannah and then hating himself half a second later for dreading seeing his own daughter.

The door was open as soon as he cut the engine, Hannah sprinting out. Blaine takes her up in his arms, holding her close to him as her legs straddled his waist. He hadn't realised how desperate he was for human affection until he had it. She nuzzled into his neck and asked, "Where's Daddy K?"

Blaine takes a deep breath in. He knows he can't cry in front of her. He has to stay strong for her. "He… The plane he was on, it wasn't a very good plane. The engines weren't working properly, sweetheart. But the pilot didn't know it was a bad plane until they were up in the air, and it was too late for them to fix it."

"I don't understand, Daddy…" Hannah whimpered, and Blaine hated that he was putting all that pain in her voice.

"Daddy K died, Hannah," Blaine whispered. It's the first time he's admitted it out loud, and it sounds horrible. He never wants to say it again. Never.

But the sound of it isn't as awful as the scream that comes out of Hannah. Blaine can't do anything to stop it, and it's breaking his heart. He can feel her tears start to soak his shoulder, but he doesn't care. He starts stroking her hair, trying to calm her down, trying to tell her that things will be alright.

But how can he, when he hardly believes it himself?

Hannah's grip on him tightens, and Blaine can't believe that he left her here, thinking that she wasn't his daughter. Of course she is.

And he knows that in some books, in some stories, they survive. They weren't in the crash, or they were the lucky survivor because they were the furthest away from the point of impact. And although those books are so beautiful, and the reunion scenes tug at your heartstrings, they aren't real.

People die. People have to die, and sometimes it's before when you think it will be, but it happens. You have to move on. But he can't push away Hannah, because then what will he have left? An empty house full of bittersweet memories.

And that would be worse than any crash or murder or hospitalisation. Because he could have had it all, and he'll realise far too late that Hannah loved him, that she didn't care about who biology said was her father.

But Blaine finally understood what Kurt meant, about the lack of a deity. There were deities in those books, the ones who brought loved ones back literally from the dead. The ones who said that deaths brought around by man-made causes could be overruled by God.

Now that he was thinking it out – fully, properly thinking it out – he could tell how ridiculous it was. Some omnipotent being in the sky couldn't do all that. Miracles just didn't happen. It was life, and sometimes it tore people away from you.

Blaine couldn't dwell on it. Not while he still had a daughter to love. Even if Kurt was gone, even if he wasn't seeing him every day, Blaine was never going to stop loving him. Never.

He looked at his daughter, and he could see it all. He could see her dressing up for a prom, looking so beautiful. He could see her opening her acceptance letter for university and he could see her walking down the aisle towards the love of her life. He could see her having a child, or two or three.

Just because he didn't have Kurt didn't mean he had to stop living. Not yet, anyway.

Not while there was so much for Hannah.

A/N: Finally! Me and this one-shot didn't get on. At all.

Anyway, I was contemplating having Kurt come back. And then I decided against it, because I'm a lovely cruel person. :D

So yeah. Review?

i.n.u. xx