This is a companion piece to the first chapter of this story, Ashamed, Just Not of Her, they are technically two separate stories, but I'm putting them together so it's easier to find, and so it doesn't clog up my profile page. I'm starting to get a lot on there, and I like it as neat and orderly as possible.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's probably not mine.

I honestly don't know how this happened. One day I'm just an ordinary gay boy living in Lima, Ohio. The next I am an expectant father. Well that's not true. I knew exactly what happened to cause the pregnancy, but at the same time, I have no clue why I let it happen.

I remember that day like it was yesterday. Brittany and I were just sitting in my room…

She was partially laying on top of me. It's kind of a strange feeling. When I pictured my first time making out with someone, it was completely different. For starters, the person laying on top of me was equipped with much different attributes. They would be tall, broad shouldered, brown hair, and would have a decidedly prominent bulge in the crux of his pants. But that isn't what happened at all.

Contrary to popular belief, I am a guy and I am just as horny as every other guy I've ever met. I have never had real specific dreams about what would happen when I lost my virginity. I didn't want candlelight. I didn't need romance. Pretty much, I just wanted to get off with someone else.

Then Brittany said the words that to present day, make my skin crawl. "Do you want to do it?" It was not something I was expecting her to say. But I guess for Brittany, dressing like a trucker, singing Mellencamp, and making out with her, meant I was straight. Even though in reality, I was still completely gay. However being as lonely as I was, I said the one word, that I regret the most.

"Sure…"

McKinley never taught sex education classes until my junior year, due to Quinn initially getting pregnant and now Brittany. So I didn't' really understand that when Brittany said she was on the pill, we still should have used a condom, because the Pill isn't 100% fool-proof. It didn't help matters that the pill Brittany took once a day was a vitamin supplement, I found out months after the fact.

But hindsight, 20-20 huh?

Being told that I'm going to be a father is the scariest thing a 17 year old gay teen can ever be told. It was more upsetting than when I found out Alexander McQueen died. Scarier than when I see my father wearing black socks and slippers during breakfast.

Then again, I didn't believe it at first. It was a well known fact that Brittany was a tiny bit promiscuous and with her you never knew if she was misunderstanding or not. So I needed to make sure for all of our sakes, that the child growing inside of her, was actually mine.

Santana and Brittany were at the Pierce house when I went to confront her. It probably wasn't a good idea for me to confront Brittany with Santana present, but I did anyway.

"We have to get a paternity test." I told her, and Santana immediately jumped to her defense.

"You think she's lying? You think she is framing you?" I shook my head, none of that being remotely true.

"Of course not!"

"Good, because you will support Britt, in whatever she decides to do." As of right now, there are really only two option Brittany has, now that we were heading into the 3rd trimester. Keeping the baby, or adoption.

"Of course I will, but I need to know, Santana. I know I'm not the only person Britt has ever slept with. I have to know…" I try and make them both see reason. Clearly it worked, because Santana thought better of attacking me for it, because she knew herself that Brittany was just as promiscuous as she was, and that was saying something.

So the next day, because Britt had her first OB-GYN appointment, the three of us went. Santana for moral support, and I went to provide a DNA sample. When the doctor came into the room, after we were waiting for at least 15 minutes, She looked at the three of us oddly.

"Hi, I'm Doctor Harley, this is your first appointment with me, correct?" Brittany nodded her head.

"She's about 6 months along…we think." Santana told her, while I just stayed quiet.

"And this is the first time you've gone to a doctor?" Brittany once again, nodded.

"I didn't know that I was pregnant. I thought I was just getting fat. I stopped eating for about two weeks, to see if I could lose it…but then I was told I was pregnant, and I started to eat again."

The doctor looked at me a little strange. "I'm assuming you're the father?"

"Well… that's what we think, but we need to make sure.." I say softly, not wanting to scare or worry Brittany anymore than she already was. The doctor however, looked at Brittany with contempt.

"You mean, you don't know who the father is?"

"Back off." Santana began to bitch the woman out when Brittany started to cry. I sighed, and pulled the doctor to the side.

"Go easy on her. She's not the smartest girl in the world. Up until a month ago, she honestly thought babies came from the stork. She's very naïve, and very innocent in ways you wouldn't even believe. She believes its mine. I'm the one with the doubt." The doctor didn't seem too thrilled at being told what to do by a teenager in my position, but she had no right to speak to Brittany that way, so she did as she was asked.

Over the next 45 minutes, tests were done, blood was drawn, and information was taken. At the end of the appointment, Santana, Brittany and I were all standing there, even more nervous than when we went in. Especially after she had told us that it would take a few days to find out the results of the DNA test.

Clearly, the child turned out to be mine. We got that news the following week. Brittany came over to my house, while Finn, Carole and my dad were around. She handed me the envelope that she hadn't opened, claiming that we should open it together. She hadn't had the decorum to ask to speak to me privately, but right in front of all of them. That certainly wasn't how I expected to tell my dad, that he was going to be a grandfather.

"What's going on, Kurt?" my dad asked, as I just stared at the paper, Brittany, and then Brittany's protruding stomach, and repeated that pattern for a full two minutes, switching spots every few seconds.

"What's wrong, Kurt? I thought you'd be happy?" Brittany asked, as she took in the shocked expression on my face.

"I… Why would this make me happy, Brittany? I was hoping it was going to be negative!" I shouted at her, and stormed away into my room. I couldn't believe her audacity that she'd expect me to be happy about this. Happy about being a father at the tender age of 17? About being a teenage father, a gay teenage father? I couldn't begin to imagine the taunts and insults that would be thrown at me for getting a girl pregnant. How do you explain to someone that you have a child, yet you're gay? That you're a teen parent, but you don't find girls sexually attractive? It is a nightmare, and I can't believe Brittany thought I'd be happy about it!

As I'm ranting about all this in my head, I hear a knock on my door. I could tell immediately who it was. It was a hard, solid knock. It was Dad. Finn's knocks were erratic and all over the door, Carole's were light, but firm. Brittany slapped her hand upon the door whenever she needed to knock, but Dad…his would be three short knocks, in rapt succession. Groaning silently, I shake my head and open the door for him. "Yes Dad?"

"What's going on son?" I stare up into his face for a moment, unsure of how to tell him that his only son is now a teen pregnancy statistic.

"I don't know how to tell you… Dad."

"Tell me what?" I gulp.

"Brittany's pregnant, Dad." He nodded, like it was the clearest thing in the world.

"Duh. She's popping out, tell me something I don't know. What does that have to do with…." He stops speaking for a minute, and I can see the realization crawl across his face as he discovers what happened 6 months ago. "Oh, Kurt. No." I look down and stare at my designer shoes for a minute before another realization hits me. I'm going to have to care for this baby, I'm not going to be able to buy all my designer clothes anymore. Oh gosh could this get any worse?

"Yea, Dad."

"But… how?"

I know I shouldn't have done it, that being sarcastic is not the appropriate thing to do right then and there, but it slipped out before I had a chance to censor myself. "Well when a guy and a girl get together…"

"Shut up." He scolds me, and I immediately shut up. "How could you let this happen?"

"It was an accident, Dad! It's not like I meant for it to happen!" I try to make him see what really happened, but he shakes his head and starts pacing back and forth.

"You're gay, Kurt. How does this even happen? Why does this even happen?" I bite my lip, and try not to say anything. I don't want to tell him that the only reason I let myself cave to Brittany was because I wanted something to bond with him over. That the only reason I let myself slip was because I was feeling lonely and forgotten. That the only reason I would let myself have sex with Brittany, was because she was the only person in my life who would want to. I try desperately not to. But after 20 minutes of avoiding the subject, I tell him just that.

"You're blaming this, on me, Kurt? I didn't think you would sink that low." I widen, but then very quickly narrow my eyes at him.

"I don't blame you for me getting her pregnant. I don't blame you for never teaching me about condoms or birth control. I don't blame you for never really explaining how babies are made, and making me look it up online once I was old enough to figure out how to search for it. I don't blame you for never sitting me down to have a sex talk like any father should. No wait, I do blame you for those things. Because those were your responsibility. But do I blame you for the mistake I made when I slept with Brittany? Of course not. That's my fault, and my fault alone."

I cannot tell you how horrible an experience it was, having to tell her parents that she was pregnant with my child. Words cannot express how awkward a situation it was. Not only is Brittany the complete opposite of her parents, but they are both biomedical engineers, with a combined IQ of 322. If they were around their daughter more often, they may have noticed she was actually pregnant, instead of just gaining weight. I asked them how they could not tell the signs that their daughter was pregnant when she was blowing up like a balloon while still barfing at all hours of the day for months on end.

"I told you Robert! Brittany wasn't responsible enough to be left to her own devices! I should have cut down my hours at work like I wanted to after she grew out of latch-key!" Martha Pierce shouted at her husband.

"Martha, who would have known this would happen? It's not your fault that Brittany is pregnant, if anyone is at fault, it's him." Mr. Pierce said, glaring at me with a piercing stare that almost made me shrink back.

I had to take a couple of deep breaths and remind myself that telling him that his daughter has slept with half of the boys (and at least one of the girls) in the school probably wasn't a good idea. That it was akin to calling her a slut, and I definitely didn't want to do that with Brittany sitting right next to me.

"Mr. and Mrs. Pierce, you're upset, I get it. But getting angry and upsetting your daughter isn't going to do any good." I gesture to Brittany who was clutching a throw pillow, burying her face into it. She lifted her head up to look at her parents, and the three of us could see the tears running down her face. With a sigh, I pull her into my arms, and hold her, comforting her in a way that only I could. "Shhh, it's okay Brittany, it's okay." I whisper into her ear, rocking her back and forth.

"Mom, dad, why are you so angry? I thought you'd be happy to have a grandbaby?" She sobbed out, a hiccup escaping every couple words. I could see the resolve in Mrs. Pierce crumble instantly, though the stubbornness of Mr. Pierce was steadfast.

"Oh Brittany, it's not that we don't want a grandchild. We just hoped that we'd get one later. After you've graduated high school, gotten a job, and gotten married." She said, trying to get Brittany to look at her.

"Speaking of marriage, what are you going to do." Her father looked at me, and I stare at him for a minute. Marriage? To…. A girl? That's just…. Not happening, no matter what he thinks is proper.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Marriage. It's the proper thing to do in a situation like this." I nod ever so slightly.

"In many situations like this, it is the proper answer. But not in ours. Brittany and I… aren't in love. We never were. If we were to get married, it wouldn't last. I don't want to put Brittany, or myself through the agony of a divorce if we don't have to." Because goodness knows that Santana and Brittany are still fuckbuddies, and I hope to one day date Blaine, and I know one of those would happen during a marriage… and sadly it wouldn't be me dating Blaine.

"So you're just going to leave Brittany to raise this baby all alone?" Shocked, I stare at him, slack jawed.

"Absolutely not!" I do my best to maintain an even tone, but I'm not so sure how well I managed it. For a brief second, I look at Brittany who was still clutching at the throw pillow. But this time her mother had moved over on the other side of her and was whispering in her ear, like any good mother would do in this situation.

"So you're going to get a job, and support her financially?" He asks, and I have to resist the urge to scoff.

"I already have a job, sir." I told him, honestly. "I've had a steady job for the past 3 years."

"Babysitting, isn't a steady job, son." He rolls his eyes at me.

"With all due respect, I have the steadiest job a 17 year old, full time student can get. Granted its at my father's auto repair shop, but that's the best part. No matter how bad the economy gets, he'll always let go the other employees, before he would even think of letting go of me."

"So you have a job, do you plan on going to college?" So he's trying to find out what I want to do with my life, maybe he wants to see if I'm going to be able to support Brittany and the baby forever, and do better than just a mechanic. Maybe, I don't know.

"Yes, sir. I do."

"Where, may I ask?" His questions were starting to grate on my nerves. I know he has the right to ask these questions of me, especially since I knocked his daughter up, but c'mon. This isn't "grill the expectant father" time.

"Well, prior to all this, I had intended on New York City. Now, I'm unsure." I trailed off. Well the better word would be to say that I got cut off.

"You are not running off to New York, and leaving my baby girl to raise your child all on her own!" This was the final straw. What was with this man, that made him think I was just going to run away from this? I may just be 17 years old, but I'm not a deadbeat. I'm not some idiot who doesn't know the meaning of the word responsibility. Yea, I fucked up 6 months ago, but I'm not some loser who won't man up.

"What do I have to say to you, to get you to believe that I'm not a deadbeat whose going to runaway? I know what its like to grow up without a mom, I'm not going to force some innocent child to grow up without a father. Anything that happens in the future, will be discussed between me, and Brittany." I tell him, any amount of respect I had for him, slowly seeping out of my body. "I'm not going to runaway from her. I'm not going to run away from this child. You can believe me or not, I honestly don't care."

I didn't realize it until two months later, when Brittany was 8 ½ months along, but I had really grown some balls since finding out I was going to be a father. But with one Warblers performance, and a few choice words from Blaine, those big brass balls that I had, has shrunk until they looked like raisins. Constipated? Gas pains? Is that really how I looked when I performed? I know I'm not on a level of porn star sexy, but I didn't think I was actually that bad.

"Blaine, this is pointless." We're both sitting on my bed, shoulder to shoulder, staring into the full length mirror on the opposite wall. He had been trying to give me sexy lessons, trying being the operative word.

"Why is it pointless, Kurt?" He asks, and I sigh. How do I tell him that it's impossible to feel sexy, knowing that the mother of your unborn child, I refuse to use the term baby mama, could go into labor at any moment? Knowing that you could be called to the hospital to help her through the delivery?

"I can't act sexy Blaine. The last time sex and me came up in the same sentence…. Well let's just say that it didn't turn out so well." I falter a little bit, and I try to recover, but I don't do it well enough. He can probably guess that something is up, but I really don't want to explain to him that within the next couple of weeks, I'm going to be a dad.

"What do you mean?"

"It's nothing, I just…. I don't like the idea of sex. It gets people into a lot of trouble, and the last thing I need is to be having sex, or even thinking about it right now." Because thinking about sex, leads me to thinking about the last time I had sex. Which leads me to thinking about Brittany, which leads me to thinking about the tiny child that will be born soon, which leads me to think about how her and my social lives, will be over, very, very soon.

"But sex is great!" He exclaims, and I roll my eyes, as he is quick to deny that he's never actually done it. "I mean, I would assume so. It's not sex for nothing, right?" Of course he would believe sex to be amazing. It probably is amazing, when its with someone you love, and are attracted to. But my only experience with sex with awkward and not at all romantic or hot.

"I really don't want to talk about this Blaine." I say, getting up from my spot on the bed and walking around my room. I notice Blankie, my security blanket from when I was a kid. I got it out of storage a couple of weeks ago, because I wanted to clean it up and give it to little whatsitsname when it was born. But just seeing it out, and the topic of conversation at hand, is a little too much for me to handle right now.

"Kurt?"

"Just go, Blaine. Just go." I quickly walk into my bathroom and lock the door. I fall down against it and start to sob into Blankie. How could I have let this happen? How could I have gotten Brittany, a girl, pregnant? I mean, I know that I've always wanted kids, but this was pushing the realms of propriety. I wanted kids when I was older, established, and had a husband, not young, just starting out, and single. Looking back, I hadn't had my breakdown yet, and this was probably it. My crush-okay-scratch-that-love for Blaine, coupled with the anxiety of becoming a father, and not knowing what was going to happen in the future. I can't believe it hadn't happened sooner. "I can't believe this is happening." I whisper to myself, before continuing to cry.

"Kurt?" I hear him ask.

"Leave me alone Blaine, go home." I shout at him through the door, my voice strangled through sobs. I hear him leave my room, but as an insurance measure I don't leave my room until I can hear his car rev up and pull out of the driveway.

Five days later, Blaine and I are at school, sitting in Mr. Gunther's 5th period class when my phone rings. I stare wide eyed at the board for a moment, before picking it up. I quickly look at the caller ID and look up at my teacher who just motions for me to take it outside. I can hear the gasps from every student in that classroom, including Blaine because Dalton teachers downright aren't allowed to let students get away with taking calls during class except during emergencies. Fortunately for me, Brittany going into labor, was an emergency.

"Santana?" I ask, the moment I leave the classroom.

"Porcelain, get your ass to Lima Memorial, Brittany and I are on our way. Her water broke about 20 minutes ago." I swallow the lump building in my throat.

"Thanks, Santana. I'll be there as soon as I can. I just have to sign myself out, and I'll be off." I hear a wail in the background, presumably Brittany having a contraction. "That her having a contraction?"

"Mhm. She says she's been having cramps all day, but didn't mention it until after her water broke, go figure." Of course, classic Brittany.

"Okay, I'm off. I'll be there as soon as I can. Thanks, Santana." I get off the phone, and reenter the classroom, and walk straight up to Mr. Gunther.

"Family emergency?" He asks quietly, and I nod.

"Yea, my uh…" I hesitate to say 'ex-pretend girlfriend is going into labor…' so I resolve to say the next best thing, because it is the closest thing to the truth. "My sister is going into labor… She wants me there for the delivery." He nods, and motions for me to grab my stuff and leave. It wasn't a complete lie. Brittany and I have gotten closer over the past few months, but for the most part we're like siblings. We hold no romantic interest for each other, but we still care about each other and love each other in platonic ways.

Right after I leave the front office, after checking myself out, I hear a very distinct and familiar voice yell out "Kurt!" I turn around, nervous and very anxious to get out of Dalton.

"What is it, Blaine? I have to go."

"Why, what's wrong?" But I have no time to explain right now.

"I can't talk about it right now, Blaine. Just…. I have to go."

Twenty minutes later, I pull into the Lima Memorial parking lot at approximately 1:05 and pull into the closest parking space to the building and run towards the Maternity ward. Luckily Carole is a nurse at Lima Memorial, who just happens to work Maternity. I run up to the nurses station, and she is standing there, waiting for me. Before I can even say the words, she's telling me that Brittany and Santana are in room 203. Quickly kissing her on the cheek as a thank you, I locate 203 immediately, luckily it was only a couple doors down from the nurses station. I enter the room and Brittany and Santana are both sitting in the bed. Well Brittany is laying down in the bed, and Santana is sitting on the side.

"It's about time Porcelain." Santana says, but she's smiling at the same time.

"How're you doing, Brittany?" I ask, bypassing Santana to go straight to the person of the hour.

"It hurts, Kurt. It hurts so much!" My stomach drops watching her in so much pain. I grab her hand, so she can squeeze when she needs to.

"I know it does, Brit. But it'll be over soon. And then we get to say hello to our baby." I need to remain calm, because Brittany is going to be hysterical at some point throughout this ordeal, and I can't drop on her now. I direct my next question to Santana. "Where are her parents?" She shrugs.

"I called and left a message with some woman at their office, but they've yet to call back." That made me extremely angry at them. For all the grief that Mr. Pierce gave me over running away, and not being there for Brittany and this baby, they weren't going to be here for the birth?

"Brittany, I'm gonna go make a call. I'll be right back, okay?" She nods, and Santana looks at me strangely. I walk out of the room, and go straight to the nurses station. "Carole, her parents haven't been contacted. Can I use the phone so I don't have to run outside?" She nods.

"Sure sweetie, press 9 to dial out." I do so, and call their company. A woman picks up.

"Bio Med Pharmaceuticals, how may I direct your call?"

"I need to speak with Martha or Robert Pierce." I tell the woman with a voice as grating as Rachel Berry.

"I'm sorry Sir, but they are in the lab, and cannot be disturbed." I growl.

"Their daughter is in labor right now, and you're telling me that they can't be disturbed? You will go get them, or there will be hell to pay." The woman gasps.

"There is no need to be rude Sir." I try my hardest not to curse this bitch out in front of my step-mother.

"Are you going to get them?"

"I told you Sir, I can't."

"Put me on with their supervisor, please."

"One moment." She transfers me, and a couple seconds later, I'm on the phone with some man I've never met before.

"Hello?"

"Hello? I need to speak with either Martha or Robert Pierce, and the dimwitted woman on the phone before you refused to interrupt them in the lab. Now their daughter is in labor right now, and they might want to know." The man on the other end seemed shocked for a second, not knowing that their daughter was pregnant, but agreed to inform them of the events, and that they'd be able to leave as soon as they were out of the lab. "Thank you. Your help is very much appreciated." I hang up the phone and feel like screaming, but reign it in, so it only comes out as half a growl.

"Did you get through?" Carole asks me, and I wave my hand in a see-saw motion.

"I got through to their supervisor who is going to go tell them, and let them leave early. Honestly, if I ever meet that receptionist, I don't know how I'll ever be able to resist the urge to punch her in the face."

"Don't think about that right now, Kurt. Go back to Brittany. Your father should be here soon enough."

"Thanks Carole…"

Three hours, and 35 minutes later.

"C'mon Brittany! Push it!" I tell her, as I hold one of her hands and position my other hand behind her back for support. Santana is doing the same thing on the other side.

"Push it good!" The two of us look at each other for a brief second and let out a brief chuckle at the reference to the first New Directions sex riot at William McKinley.

"Ahhhhhhh!" Brittany screamed as she gave another push. "I can't do this any more, I just can't. It's too much." Santana leaned over and kissed her forehead, after I wiped it with a towel.

"It's going to be okay Brittany, only a couple more pushes, and then your baby will be out. Don't you want to see your baby?" Santana tried to console her.

"Just think, what are we going to name it?" Brittany and I had come up with a solution to the 'what to name the baby' dilemma that we had gone through for the past month. If it was a girl, I could name it. If it was a boy, she could name it. Provided the other had no objection to the name. "What are you going to name it, if it's a boy?" I ask her, trying to take her mind off the pain during the brief 30 second periods inbetween contractions.

"I think Barack Obama would be a good name for him, don't you think?" My eyes were as wide as the moon as I looked at Santana who was snickering on the other side of the bed. 'Please let this child be a girl….please let this child be a girl.' If I believed in God, I probably would have prayed to have this child be a girl.

"I don't think that's the greatest name, sweetie."

"What about Brad Jolie?" I laugh.

"That's a little better." I quickly say before she is pulled into the world of pain and pushing once again.

"We've got the head out." The doctor says, and I am ecstatic to hear it.

"Hear that Britt? There's a head. Only another push or two more, and we'll have a baby." She nods and pushes with all her might, enough to actually push the rest of the child out at once. I look down, and see my baby as its coming into the world, and I feel a tear come to my eye.

I hear the baby cry. Carole has assured me numerous times that while a crying baby is never something you usually never want to hear, the moment after it is born, is the one time you really, really do. I smile and go back up to Brittany and kiss her on the head. "You did it Brittany, you did it." But she's laying back on the bed, almost asleep. That must have wiped her out. I look at Santana, and she looks at me. I know there is going to be some problems between the three of us, raising this baby, Santana and Brittany being a couple, and me on the outside, but for right now, everything is okay.

"It's a girl!" The doctor announces, and I can't help but breathe a sigh of relief. I get to name her, and she won't be named Angelina Pitt, or Michelle Obama, or even Sarah Jessica. The nurse hands my daughter to me, since Brittany has passed out, and as I hold my daughter for the first time, I can't help but instantly fall in love with her. She's part of me. I'm part of her, and more importantly its possible.

It's possible for me to have children, even while gay. I can have children, I'll be able to have grandchildren one day. And maybe that'll be enough to stop all the naysayers who say that I can't have children because I'm a gay man. Well I just proved them wrong. It may not have been the conventional way for gay men, but it still works.

Later on that night, I know I told Blaine that I would explain everything to him, but at the same time, I don't want to do everything over the phone, so when he agrees to meet me at the hospital when it's nearing 9 o'clock at night, I know that he deserves to know everything that's going on.

"Kurt? What's going on?" I sigh, and we start walking into the Hospital.

"Remember a few days ago, when we had that… talk in my room? Well, there's something I didn't tell you, and I think I need to." He nods for me to continue, and I'm not sure how, but I trudge along. "Okay so remember last week, when you had your sexuality crisis with Rachel?"

"Of course I do, what does that have anything to do with this?" We turn a corner, heading towards the Maternity ward.

"Well, last year, I went through somewhat of a similar thing. I never questioned my sexuality for all intents and purposes. I just found myself really wanting the relationship that my father was developing with Finn. So I toned down the crazy outfits, and started dressing a bit more…manly, I should say?" Blaine snorts, probably because I never dress manly should I be able to help it.

"Like what?"

"Plaid, a fishing vest…. I sang Mellencamp, It was awkward."

"I bet."

"But here's the thing… I began to date Brittany, it was just for a week. I wanted something to bond with my dad over, and she wanted to get her perfect record of making out with all the boys in the school." He shrugs.

"It happens. But why would you want to hide that?" I turn to look down at my daughter, sleeping in her basinet. My right hand, instinctively goes to rub the ID bracelet on my left hand, that lets me into the nursery, so I can get my daughter whenever I want. Luckily I'm still wearing the Dalton uniform, and it covers up the ID so Blaine wouldn't be able to notice it.

"Because I fucked up the night Brittany and I made out." I confess. "I had sex with her." His eyes widen, and his jaw drops in shock. It's not like it was a reaction I wasn't expecting, but at the same time, the judgment on his face, even if he tried not to express it on his voice, hurt.

"But… why?"

"I was sad, I was depressed. She was there, and for a brief moment, she made me feel good. But then everything changed." I swallow. "That was nine months ago." I look down at my daughter again, and I can almost hear the gears in his head turning, as he connects the dots.

"Do you mean?" I point down at her, and smile.

"Her name is Taylor. She's…my daughter."

"So when you left class today?" I nod my head.

"I told all my teachers a week and a half ago, that there was a family medical problem occurring and asked if any of them minded if I kept my phone on until it passed. They didn't know that it was Brittany giving birth, but they knew it was something."

"She was born today?" He asks me, and I smile stupidly.

"Seven pounds, four ounces,18 ½ inches long, born at precisely 4:58 tonight."

"Oh Kurt…" He's not saying anything. Why won't he say what he's feeling? Is he that speechless? "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm ashamed. I'm the only gay boy in Lima, yet I knocked up the only bicurious girl in Lima. It's like an episode of a soap opera." Because really, all of New Directions is like a Soap Opera and you just have to know how to follow along.

"You shouldn't be ashamed, Kurt. You've got a beautiful daughter out of all this, how can you be ashamed of her?" I shake my head vigorously.

"I'm not ashamed of her. She's beautiful, gorgeous and I love her, I truly do. I'm just ashamed of how it happened. Explaining that one to Brittany's parents, and dad was harder than you'll ever know. You always hear those stereotypical stories about how fathers will curse their daughter's girlfriends, and threaten them with harm, when they take her out on a date. Imagine what it was like to have to tell them, I knocked her up."

He pulls me into a hug. Maybe he wasn't as judging as I thought he was "You didn't have to go through this alone, I would have been there for you."

"I know you would have, but I needed time to process it. I mean, I only realized that she was pregnant 3 months ago."

"What do you mean? How could you only find out she's pregnant at 6 months?" I smirk, remembering back to when I found out about the pregnancy.

"Three months ago, I was at Dalton. Four months ago, I was a little preoccupied with all of the bullying at McKinley to really notice Brittany. Five months ago, she wasn't showing all too much. And prior to that was the summer, and I didn't see her all summer." I explained, because really it does make a lot of sense.

"But why didn't she tell you before?"

"Have you met Brittany? Prior to this, she thought storks brought babies. She didn't realize she was pregnant until she, Santana and Quinn were having a sleepover, and Brittany mentioned not having a period for the past 4 months. After that, it took them about three weeks to get her convinced that she was pregnant, and to tell the father. Quinn especially, because she herself gave birth last year, to Puck's daughter."

"What's with the New Directions and pregnancies?" I shrug, because honestly, I have no idea.

"I don't know, but ever since the two head cheerleaders got pregnant, Sue Sylvester is instituting a mandatory sex education lesson, once a month until, in her words 'Everyone learns to keep it in their pants.'" He turns to look at Taylor again, and I do the same.

"Taylor Elizabeth?" He asks, raising his eyebrows, and I blush and chuckle.

"Brittany refused to let me name her after any of my idols. Luckily for me, she hasn't made the connection." For a few minutes, Blaine just looks at me, with awe on his face. It's like he's looking at me with a new light. I won't know it for another week, but he fell in love with me that day. The following Sunday after she was born, I volunteered to take her for a few days, so Brittany could catch up on some sleep. As I was rocking her back and forth, trying to put Taylor down for a nap, Blaine entered into my house, walked straight up to my room, and succinctly told me he loved me. That he was an idiot for not realizing it before, and if he would be so lucky, if I would agree to be his boyfriend. The kiss he laid on me when I said yes, was so sweet and so passionate that it made my heart melt. Taylor Elizabeth's conception might have been a mistake, but everything that's come afterwards? Well that's certainly been a blessing in disguise.