Title: In All the Forms I'll Never Know, Or All the Diseases That I Come to Love
Media: Fic
Rating: PG
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Warnings: AU, genetic disorders
Summary: Four times a disease brings Kurt and Blaine together.

AN: What I wrote instead of my genetics paper. Oh well.

I: Primordial Dwarfism

Blaine is going to his cubby when he notices Miss Frannie talking to some parents in the doorway. They look new, a big man in a baseball cap and plaid shirt, a tiny lady with wavy chestnut hair and a flowery dress. They must be someone's mommy and daddy, but Blaine doesn't see any new kids around. And Blaine always talks to the new kids, because he likes to show off that he can sing, and he makes ups songs all time and everyone laughs and thinks he's cool.

So Blaine stands at his cubby and pretends to be looking for his Power Ranger, even though he can see the arm sticking out of his backpack as he waits for the new kid to show up. The adults are talking low and it's hard to hear, but Blaine recognizes the tone they use. It's normally for parents who want to drop their kids off but feel bad for leaving. But what they're talking about is really confusing, something about primary? Prima-primver-the fancy way his mommy says red spaghetti sauce, and dwarves, like the little fat men from Snow White. But where was this kid? Geez, did he fall in the toilet or something? Blaine fidgeted, and decided if there was a new kid he could meet him later. He really wanted to go build a block tower for his Power Ranger to knock down.

So Blaine brandishes his red Power Ranger, and starts to make his way back to the toyboxes, when he hears this high pitched squeal. It really startles Blaine, so he whips around-

And sees a real live elf.

He's coming out from behind the man's legs, and wasn't any taller than the daddy's knees. He's tiny, too small in this room made for kids Blaine's size. But he's so perfect looking, a living doll in fancy looking doll clothes. The elf boy runs up to him unafraid, clutching a green Power Ranger with both hands to his chest.

"Hi," he says, and Blaine realizes the breathy flute noise from before was his voice.

"I'm Kurt and I'm four and I like your hair it looks bouncy. Do you want to play house with me?" It's a breathless rush of words that he ends with a smile, tiny pearls of teeth showing. Blaine takes a step forward, unaware of the adult's sudden tenseness, and gently takes Kurt's hand. It's small like his baby cousin's, and it reminds him of a field trip he took to a farm once. He got to hold baby chicks, and Kurt's hand is all fine boned and soft like them.

"I'm Blaine," he responds, "and I like playing house. Can I be the daddy?" Kurt starts pulling his hand towards a dress up box filled to the brim with clothes.

"Only if I can find sensible heels to play mommy in," Kurt says seriously, pulling with a vigor that surprises Blaine. But he's smiling widely, and when he looks back at the adults Kurt's mommy is smiling too, her eyes bright and shiny. He looks back at Kurt, who is chattering away as he holds up outfits for them to wear.

Yeah, he can't wait to sing his song to Kurt.

II: Hypertrichosis

Blaine fidgets in his chair, picking uncomfortably at his blazer. When he put it on that morning, he thought it was a smart move, a professional look for the interview. And maybe to cover himself up, a little. But it's hot as hell in the studio, and the combination of sweat and nervousness is causing him to have a minor panic attack. He's tempted to just bolt, get out of these too hot clothes, get out from under these too hot lights, get away from the camera crew's too long stares. He has to remind himself to stay seated, because this interview is important. He can be a role model, get his story out to society, to others like him, and get them to understand what it's like to be him. But seriously, could they turn on the AC or something?

He jumps when a hand lands on his shoulder. Blaine turns and looks up to see Kurt Hummel hovering over him, holding out a Styrofoam cup of water. Blaine accepts it, and starts to stand, but Kurt waves him down.

"None of that, Mr. Anderson," he says smoothly, warmly, which surprises Blaine. When the documentary contacted him to do an interview and told him Kurt Hummel, of all people, would be asking the questions, Blaine had been shocked and awed. He had seen a couple of his pieces before, his interview with the Prime Minister of England, the cover story on human trafficking, the report on gay bashing last year. Every story made Kurt look like this cold, ruthless hellraiser, rattling even the most seasoned criminals and campaigning in some of the most dangerous places in the world. The person sitting across from him looked like an adorable kitten, nibbling on his lip as he texted someone. Blaine took a long drought of water, basking in the cool line it made as it went down his throat, and tried not to think too hard about how attractive the other man looked. He couldn't resist it for long.

The man in front of him is all pale lines, and smooth, hairless skin. Blaine doesn't make a habit of resenting people, taking out his disorder on normal people, but he can't help but be a little envious. And if he's really honest, a little heartbroken at being placed next to such a perfect specimen of man. Blaine thinks about it a little harder, and he comes to a bitter realization, that it will show in the documentary how different he is, comparing a beauty to a beast.

Kurt finishes his text and turns he piercing eyes on Blaine.

"You're really brave for doing this, you know," Kurt tells him. The compliment sends a flutter through his ribcage, a churning roll of discomfort to his gut.

"I used to think I was real brave once, you know? I grew up in a conservative hick town, and came out in high school. I was ostracized, terrorized, and for a while, I hated myself. But I never backed down. I never ran, never gave up my beliefs. And I thought that made me strong." Kurt reaches between them, where Blaine's hand is resting against the table. He slips his tiny, perfect hand around Blaine coarse haired one and strokes the top of it with his thumb.

"But then I got this job. And I started meeting people, listening to their stories. I've interviewed so many people, Blaine. From Holocaust survivors to little kids, people who have risked their lives, sacrificed themselves for the good of others. They showed me what what it really meant to be brave. And now I met you."

The sound guy comes over and slips on their microphones, telling Kurt they'd be ready in five. Kurt nods with a smile. There is bustling on set, but Blaine is too enraptured that this man, who has been to the farthest reaches of the globe, who has met some of the most influential people of the century, who admires Blaine, of all people. Blaine, who spends days debating on whether or not he should leave his apartment. Blaine, who still cries when people stare too long, or worse, harass him with names like 'Wolfman' and 'Chewbacca'. Blaine, who has only learned what love is through the old black and white films on TV.

"Me?" Blaine whispers incredulously. The director is behind the camera now, as says they're ready to start filming. Kurt says nothing, just gives his hand a tight squeeze before telling the director they were ready.

The entire time they film, he never lets go of Blaine's hand.

(Months later, Blaine will be rewinding the interview for a third time, trying his best to watch himself, watch and see if his face betrays any hint of what he's feeling now. But it's still too much for him to process, his blackened face, too hairy to make out any discernible features save for his eyes. He watches Kurt instead, trying his hardest not to be completely immersed in their on screen hand holding. He fails spectacularly.

Then, the coffee table starts vibrating, his phone buzzing with motion. Blaine scoops it up, and after he recognizes the name, pauses the interview on a closeup of Kurt's face.

Blaine flicks open his phone, and the sound of chattering teeth replies to him.

"Never again," Kurt groans, "I'm never going to Norway ever again. It's cold and snowing and so damn expensive-"

Blaine just laughs and settles in for the night.)

III: Angelman Syndrome

Kurt is tired, and sticky, and getting really fed up with the staring. "Finn,' he calls, the edge of a whine creeping into his voice, "let's go sit on that bench for a while, ok? We can rest our feet for a bit, then go find our parents." Finn gives a long, infectious string of giggles, and jerks his hands in a way Kurt has interpreted to mean, 'sounds good to me'. Finn half staggers to the bench, which lets Kurt know to keep him seated instead of jumping up immediately and running off after a minute or two of rest. Which is fine by Kurt, because they've been all over this park and he's getting a little bored with the long lines. And the staring. It was as if Finn wasn't allowed to look happy in one of the happiest places on Earth.

They are barely sitting for two minutes before Finn is fidgeting, bored with the silence. Kurt just plucks at his shirt, frowning at the way it looked all sweat stained and wrinkled on him. If it wasn't mandated by the tour, he would have changed into something cleaner, but alas, here he was stuck with it. Finn reached over and picked at the shirt too, his face delighted at the motion. Kurt allows him, because it's a battle that's not worth fighting. He watches Finn, long limbed and baby faced, the utter delight that crosses his features. The taller boy scoots closer and wraps Kurt into an affectionate hug, suffocating him in the muggy Floridian afternoon.

Finn is squeezing, practically smothering his face in the crook of his arm, so much so that Kurt almost misses his narrow chance at freedom.

"Look," Kurt muffles into the other boy's arm, "is that Cinderella over there?"

Finn releases him instantly, eyes wide and excited.

Cinderella was just on the other side of the street, chatting away with her Prince Charming. Kurt doesn't even have to ask before Finn is tugging, making a jagged path towards the duo. Kurt smiles and keeps a hand on Finn to steady him. When they reach them, they are just finishing up with a family of four, patting the younger children's head. Finn almost knocks them over in excitement.

"Finn," Kurt admonishes, shooting the father of the family a sympathetic smile, "we have to wait our turn! Hold on."

As soon as the last child was out of the way, Finn practically pounces on Cinderella, enveloping her in his arms.

"Oh!," she says, obviously surprised at the enthusiasm. Prince Charming chuckled off to her side. She sends him a scathing look over Finn's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry about this," Kurt apologizes, "Cinderella is one of his favorite movies, for whatever reason." Kurt gently pries at Finn's grip. "How bout we get some pictures of the two of you, Finn?," Kurts says kindly, hoping he'll loosen his grip on the girl. He does, if only to readjust his grip, and pull both Cinderella and Prince Charming into tight, one armed hugs.

Kurt steps back, pulling out his camera from his back pocket, and adjusted the viewfinder on the screen. Finn was already beaming, restlessly rocking his weight from one foot to the other. Cinderella was giving a small, professional smile. Prince Charming was beaming, eagerly wrapping an arm around Finn. The height difference between the three of them is adorable, and the fact the Prince Charming was the tiniest made it even more amusing. Out of the periphery of the camera, he could see the prince trying to subtly stand on the tips of his toes. Kurt grinned crookedly, before taking a couple shots.

"Thank you so much," Kurt breathes out, as Finn lets go of the two characters. Cinderella is adjusting her hair (one of the few characters that has the natural hair of her character, Kurt notes offhandedly), while Prince Charming comes up to him and peers down at the camera.

"Would you like a picture with Cinderella, as well?," he asks, and Kurt is momentarily taken aback by how close the other man comes to him. Kurt admires his friendliness and really gorgeous hazel eyes before looking down at the camera, suddenly shy.

"No, no. I-"

Finn comes up to Kurt too, and is clumsily signing words to him. Kurt furrows his brow, before making out the words 'song' and 'dance'. He gestures over to the girl playing Cinderella, with a pleading smile. Kurt bites his lip, apprehensively, slowly understanding what his stepbrother is trying to ask of him.

"You guys have been really great," he starts off, giving Prince Charming a bashful smile. The prince grins back enthusiastically. Cinderella sends him a suspicious look, but doesn't say anything. Kurt looks around, to see if they are taking up another family's time to get a picture with the duo, but no one pays them any attention.

"Would you mind doing us another favor?"

Kurt's iPhone starts up 'So This Is Love ', and Finn gently grasps Cinderella's hand in his and places the other on her shoulder. They move slowly, Finn's feet moving cumbersome and jerkily, but Cinderella shows enough patience and gives him a kind, genuine smile as they make large, erratic circles.

Kurt stands off to the side with Prince Charming, and slowly begins to sing. He only glances at the prince once, before turning away to blush. (No, not blush, Kurt corrects himself. It's just the onset sunburn heating his face.) But the prince doesn't do much to hide his amazement at Kurt's voice.

Kurt only looks back when Prince Charming starts in on his part of the song.

"...so this is the miracle that I've been dreaming of..."

"...so this is love."

IV: CIPA (Congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis)

There is dried blood on the crib.

Kurt keeps scrubbing at it, at the sheets, trying to rub it out, make the whole thing disappear. He hardly notices when Blaine comes into the
room, snaking his arms around his husband's waist.

"She's going to be ok," Blaine murmurs, placing a kiss on the nape of Kurt's neck.

Kurt chokes back a sob. "She would have kept going-," his voice cracks, "she would have chewed her fingers off."

Tears are in his eyes, and Kurt breaks out of Blaine's hold to wipe them away. Blaine turns him around and pulls him into a tight hug.

"But you stopped it," Blaine whispers into his neck, "and the doctors say she should be able to come home tomorrow." He makes his way up Kurt's neck slowly, leaving soft trails of kisses.

"You need to sleep."

Kurt all but collapses into Blaine's arms. "How are we supposed to protect her?," he asks brokenly.

"How can we keep her from hurting herself?"

Blaine can only rub his back in comfort.