A BEAUTIFUL SUNSET MISTAKEN FOR DAWN
PART IV

Blaine knew that leaving the Dump immediately was a good idea when he had just the time to come back to Kurt and Dave’s mansion, dismiss his driver and put away his mask and cloak before his hosts came back from their trip.

Hiding in his bedroom, wide awake sitting on the bed, he heard the noises from downstairs and headed for the stairs, looking down at Kurt and Dave in the hallway from the landing. “Is everything alright?” he asked, his voice filled with worry and a tiny bit of curiosity.

Kurt was leaning on Dave, he seemed tired. His eyes were half-closed and he couldn’t seem able to keep them open, like the light – though dim as it was – was too strong for him to stand it. “Fine…” he murmured, his voice nothing more than a feeble whisper.

“Kurt?” Blaine insisted, walking down a couple of steps, his eyebrows furrowing in concern, “Are you sure?”

“He had a rough night,” Dave answered in his place, holding him gently up and lifting him in his arms. Kurt instantly wrapped his arms around his husband’s neck, holding onto him as he rested his head against his shoulder, his eyes finally closed and the expression on his face a little bit more relaxed, “He just needs to sleep,” Dave added, coming up the stairs with Kurt almost asleep between his arms. “He’ll feel better tomorrow.”

“Yeah…” Kurt nodded, his head barely moving.

Blaine watched them pass beside him and head quickly to their bedroom, guilt already clouding his eyes with tears that he already know he would never feel entitled to spill. Kurt seemed so weary. And when his best friend – the friend he had loved most since he was a child – was battling for his life in a who knows how dirty alchemist’s cave, where was Blaine? Where the hell was he, when he could be needed somewhere else?

He ran to his bedroom and kneeled by the bed, holding his head between his hands, crying softly. “Make me a better man,” he prayed in a low voice, his shoulders shaking with every sob, “Make me a better man.”

He couldn’t sleep all night.

He only found the courage to come out of his bedroom when the sun was already high up in the sky. His stomach was starting to ache, twitching with painful spasm of drug and sleep deprivation-induced hunger, and he found himself yearning for a good breakfast.

He wore his housecoat and walked down the stairs, frowning as he stared at the empty table in the dining room. “Lord Anderson,” a housemaid called him, smiling gently, “Lord Hummel and Lord Karofsky are having breakfast in the garden. Would you like to join them?”

Blaine nodded and followed her outside.

It had finally stopped raining once and for all during the night. Blaine had listened to the sound of the rain fading away minute after minute as he lied down on the bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. Now, the sky had cleared up from the grey, heavy clouds of the day before, and the sun was shining warmly over the garden, making the green grass shiny.

Kurt seemed to be taking it as a good sign: the smile curling his lips was calm and faithful, and his eyes showed nothing but happiness as he slowly sipped at his tea, sitting beside his husband at the little rounded table in wrought iron right in the middle of the garden, near the fountain.

Blaine sat with them, forcing an even smile as he looked at Kurt, waiting for another maid to serve him his breakfast. Suddenly, though, he wasn’t hungry anymore: his main concern seemed to be Kurt, and so he just took a bite from the slice of chocolate cake the maid put in his plate, and then leaned in to take one of Kurt’s hands in his, deliberately ignoring the glare Dave threw at him. “How are you, Kurt?” he asked, smiling softly at him.

Kurt answered with a sweet smile that mirrored his own, as he placed his free hand on his belly and stroked it gently through the soft fabric of his robe. “I feel it grow,” he answered in a lightly embarrassed whisper, conceding himself a little chuckle as he averted his eyes, “We have to thank you, Blaine,” he added, his hand still on his belly, “We could have never done it without you.”

Blaine felt a more confident smile curl his own lips, and as Kurt went back to look at him in his eyes he held his best friend’s hand firmly in his own, stroking the back with his thumb to give him strength.

Yes, that was his chance. Something he was responsible for. Something he helped create, and that he wasn’t sure anymore it was so bad as it first sounded.

“Please, let me stay,” Blaine said, turning to Dave, “I want to help you both as much as I can. I want to be a part of this,” he turned back at Kurt, hope sparkling in his eyes, “Let me stay here.”

Kurt smiled back at him, shared a look with his husband and then nodded, entwining his fingers with Blaine.

Yes. The chance to make a better man out of himself. The Gods had given it to him. And Blaine wouldn’t have missed it, this time.

*
He didn’t stop going to the Dump, though. Living with Kurt and Dave kept him busy and mostly happy during the day, but it was useless at night, when thoughts of his past resumed crowding his head and confusing him.

Blaine knew he should have stopped. He knew it because he knew the law, and he knew that going there was forbidden to believers. It wasn’t healthy, it wasn’t safe, and now that he had started to live a life so different than the one he was used to, it was starting to feel a little pointless too. It had started to lose interest to his eyes, but still he kept going, basically out of habit.

That night, he was feeling particularly helpless and tired. Kurt wasn’t feeling very well, he was feeling dizzy and nauseous, so he had decided to go to bed early, and Dave had followed him almost right after, so Blaine had found himself sleepless and alone in the silent and dark house, and had therefore decided to go out.

The streets were noisy and full of people. The end of the rainy season always made the Dump even more crowded than it already usually was, making it for Blaine even harder to stand. He quickly walked out his carriage and headed towards the Candyshop: he didn’t even want to have sex, that night, he just wanted a quick drink, and then he would have asked the driver to bring him back to Kurt and Dave’s.

He walked through the sweaty mass of people crowding the club and finally reached the bar. He sat on a stool, asked for a drink and kept his eyes low, locked on the bar counter, hoping for his drink to come fast, so he could leave.

He had to be insane. There was no other explanation, he had to be totally out of his mind to risk that much to come to a place like that without even wanting it. What was wrong inside his head? Why couldn’t he just stop acting that way, why did he need the stupid, dirty thrills crawling up and down his spine that only the Dump seemed able to give him, to go on with his life? Why were guilt trips so important to him, why couldn’t he do less of them?

“You still don’t look any good,” a sweet, soft voice said, somewhere beside him. Blaine looked up, focusing his gaze on a young woman sitting on the stool next to his. He tried to recognize her, but both the fact that she wore a mask and the fact that he didn’t recall ever talking to a woman in that place made it impossible for him.

“I’m sorry,” he asked, blinking confusedly, “Do I know you?”

The smile curling the woman lips turned way more amused than it already was. “Would you want to know, if you did?” she asked back, and Blaine opened his eyes wide, shocked.

“It can’t be…” he whispered, “Are you… how is it even possible?”

“Well, outlaw alchemy has made great strides, in the last few years,” the woman said in a light chuckle, sipping at her cherry-flavored drink. Its smell was so strong Blaine felt confused by it.

“You’re that man… what was your name?” he muttered, trying to remember, “Samuel?”

“It’s Samantha, now,” the woman winked, crossing her legs.

Blaine looked away, thanking the barman with a nod when he finally gave him his drink. “You shouldn’t be so out and proud about it,” he spat out bitterly, “Last time I checked, using alchemy to change gender was still forbidden.”

Samantha shrugged, her red lips curling in another small, satisfied smile. “Here, nobody can judge me. Not even you, whoever you are,” she added in a light chuckle, “Everybody in the Dump have their own fair share of sins. We all live with them.”

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Blaine snapped, stubbornly looking away, “You told me you had a husband, that you were happy with him, am I right? You lied, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t.”

“Then why the change?”

“Because that’s what I always wanted,” she answered, and her smile turned sweeter, “My husband always knew. He always supported me. It took so much effort from us to make it possible, that it would be pretty stupid of me not to be happy about it now.”

“It will turn against you,” Blaine insisted, focusing on his drink only, holding the glass between his fingers so hard he heard it almost crack.

“Listen,” Samantha said, shrugging away her long hair from her shoulders – did she had them when she was a he too? Blaine hadn’t notice, or didn’t remember – and looking at him fiercely, “Whatever you think you know, or really, whatever you or anybody else think at all, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I wanted it, it was possible for me to have it, I got it. It’s that simple.”

Blaine swallowed hard, almost closing his eyes as he let his memories flow freely in his mind, playing on repeat over and over again. “I was thirteen,” he started in a very low voice, so low that it was a miracle that, with all the noise surrounding them, Samantha could hear him at all, “I was reckless and stupid. I questioned everything, because that’s what kids do, isn’t it? All the rules, they all sounded like bullshit to me. I was destined to somebody and I couldn’t see him, I couldn’t even talk with him, how could that be fair or right?” he stopped to sip at his drink, trying to find in it the strength to go on.

He had never talked about what happened with anybody, not even his parents. That was the first time he shared his secret with someone, and it seemed easier than he had ever thought, probably because he was talking with a stranger, he was half-drunk and he desperately needed to speak out.

“I wanted to see him. I was curious and… I just wanted to see him. So I snuck inside his family’s garden, I knew where they lived… I just hid behind a bush and waited, and when I saw him, you know, I was so happy I could cry, because he seemed so beautiful to me.” He stopped again, sighing deeply. Samantha was looking intently at him, holding her breath.

“I clearly remember that, as I left the garden and run back to my house, I couldn’t stop thinking that now I was willing to wait forever, if that was what it took to have him. Two years more seemed like nothing. And I thought how stupid it was to have kids live such a sad childhood, forced to stay away from their soulmates. I was sure I had done the right thing, because I was feeling better. Calmer, even. And then,” he turned to face Samantha, his eyes so dark she almost drew back, feeling kind of threatened, “Two weeks later, a servant from my fiancée’s parents brought a letter to my house. It said that he was found dead in his bed after a fit. It said that the alchemists had visited him and found out his heart was malfunctioning. No one knew about it. It couldn’t be cured, they said.”

“…it wasn’t your fault,” Samantha tried to say, but Blaine let out a bitter chuckle, stopping her right there.

“Yeah, sure,” he shook his head, “It was. I know. I sinned against the Gods and they punished me taking away from me the only thing I wanted, the only thing that could make me happy. That’s why I think you’re a fool, and you don’t know what you’ve done. You were perfectly happy, and now you ruined it all. You’ll see.”

Samantha stood up from her stool, walking a couple of steps away from him but then stopping before getting really far. She was smiling, and that didn’t fail to both amuse and irritate Blaine. “What’s your name?” she asked.

He answered without even thinking twice about it. “Blaine.”

She nodded and smiled again, holding out a hand. Blaine froze on the spot when he felt her hands combing his hair in a calm, soothing way. “Blaine, there’s no point in living this life if you can’t be happy about it,” she said, bending to kiss him on his forehead. “Try to remember that more often.”

Blaine watched her leave right after, and couldn’t bring himself to move for hours after that.

*
Kurt kept saying he was sure the alchemical process had worked out because he could feel the baby growing inside himself, but the power of his faith was so strong it could easily have been just his imagination. Also, since the alchemist had said that in case of a pregnancy Kurt would have needed more medical help than any pregnant woman – which was simple logic, him being a man and all – they absolutely could not do without a doctor.

The hardest part was finding the right one.

First of all, they needed someone who wouldn't freak out facing a case of male pregnancy. Kurt was hardly the first man giving birth, since the process had been known for several years now, still it happened so rarely that not all the medics were qualified to attend to a pregnant man. In fact, most of them didn't even know where to begin visiting one, let alone helping him deliver.

Secondly, even the most qualified doctors weren't exactly thrilled to tend to pregnant men.

The process was forbidden by the Gods and therefore illegal. And even though Kurt, Dave and their doctor would not end up in jail whatsoever – because people got arrested only if accused to be dangerous for others – they would be frowned upon by the entirety of the priests who would strongly discourage the community to deal in any way with the two sinners and partially with whoever helped them too. Therefore, while the pregnancy was surely going to have bad social consequences for Kurt and Dave, it could also jeopardize the doctor's job. And not many of them were eager to take the risk.

Last but not least, they needed discretion. Obviously, if Kurt really was pregnant, they could keep it a secret only for so long. But the longer the better, and someone babbling about what they did before it was time was something they could do without.

It turned out there wasn't such a doctor.

They had thought their family doctor would have been a good choice since he had served two generations of Karofskys and he had been a good friend of Dave's father, not mentioning he knew Dave since he was a kid. But the man was suddenly very different from the gentle, faithful mate they had always known him to be as soon as they told him the truth. Apparently, their unforgivable sin had vanished a life-long history of good relationship and mutual respect.

Dave had called Mr. Chang as soon as Kurt had started vomiting.

The complete inability to keep anything down that had made Kurt so unbelievably happy – as he had took it as the unmistakable sign of a life growing inside his belly – had upset Dave immediately because he was still more prone to think about internal damage than pregnancy.

Mr. Chang was visiting Kurt in his and Dave's bedroom, after he had been filled in. Dave had called for him with the claim of Kurt suffering of a general indisposition and the doctor was now really outraged to find out he had been deceived so and for such a reason. He had stopped smiling the moment he had known and his aggravated face was not doing anything to help Dave cooperate with the anxiety of waiting his response.

“So, is everything okay?” Dave asked, pacing the room nervously.

The doctor covered Kurt's belly again and rolled down the sleeves of his own shirt. His face was even darker than before and his hands were still sparkling with the last remains of the alchemical energy he had used to check on Kurt. It took him forever to answer and Dave couldn't help but thinking he was doing it on purpose.

“Your husband is definitely pregnant, Dave,” he said eventually and the squeak that came out of Kurt's mouth at this almost covered the rest of his answer. “But I wouldn't be happy about it, if I were you. This kind of abominations in alchemy lead to all kind of problems for the people who undergone them.”

Kurt was too happy to worry about the Gods, if he had ever worried at all. So he stood up and the maid helped him wear his dressing gown, all the while David was giving up to panic once again. “But is he alright?” He asked again, ignoring the omens all together. “His body, the... the baby. Is the baby healthy?”

Mr. Chang looked at him for a moment and then nodded, though his expression indicated he'd rather have had to announce the worst as if saying everything was alright was a personal offense to him or any other legal alchemists for that matter; which probably was. “The transformation is completed, albeit not permanent. I sensed the energy that keeps this makeshift uterus together. For the moment the fetus is well, both in size and vital signs.”

“For the moment?”

“Risks of miscarriages are not to be underestimated. We are talking about very delicate and unnatural conditions,” Mr. Chang said. “He has things in him that shouldn't be there. You do the math.”

“I felt it moving,” Kurt said, gently rubbing his lower tummy. “How this is even possible if the baby is the size of a normal baby which at this stage I suppose must be very... small?”

“Some inches top,” the doctor said. “But what you felt was the energy fixing things for your baby. Hopefully, you will start feeling it in a few weeks.”

Dave didn't know how he thought some medical advice could reassure him. Obviously it couldn't be a normal, easy pregnancy. Therefore he could not be a normal, calm soon-to-be father. “What can we do to reduce the risks?”

“Kurt will need to rest,” the man said, as he retrieved his cape and stick from the maid who had shown him to the door together with the two lords of the house. “And a lot of luck, I guess. Perhaps praying to the Gods for once, instead of breaking their laws will help you.”

Dave wanted to answer back, but Kurt stopped him, gently laying a hand over his arm and stepped forward. “Mr. Chang,” he called as the man was about to leave the house, “I take you understood this is something we'd rather keep quiet until a more suitable time.”

“Don't let yourself be deceived by the fact I've known your husband's family for quite some time now because I am compelled to report you to the authorities. And as a matter of fact, I would even if I wasn't. What you did is unforgivable, either by the Gods or by any sensible person.”

“You can't...”

“Yes I can, Dave. And I will,” the doctor said, sternly. “Your names will be reported to the priests as soon as I reach the temple. I'll keep assisting you, though because contrary to a great majority of my colleagues I think it would be a sin as well for me to leave you on your own dealing with this.”

Dave would have said more, but Kurt didn't let him. They helplessly watched as the doctor got on his carriage and left the house, heading to the temple to give them away. Dave was furious, even though he knew this was going to happen. Though, when he turned to Kurt, all his anger dissolved because his husband was smiling softly at him.

“I don't care. Let him tell the world,” Kurt said, cheeks flushed and sparkling eyes. “We're having a baby.”

The thought finally struck him for real and Dave needed to sit down. That being so, Kurt was right. Let the doctor tell the world, if he wanted to. Dave had bigger problems to face, right now.

Like trying not to faint.


to be continued...