Glee Fic: A Veiled Memory Painted Across the Sea, Epilogue
Six Years Later
“Papa! Papa!” The shrill voice of a small girl echoed through the halls of a fashionably decorated home. The sound of his daughter’s scream jarred Kurt out of a light doze, leaving the man momentarily dazed by his surroundings. Shaking his head to clear the haziness, Kurt pushed himself up to maneuvered off the chaise lounge. The padding of the piece was plush and Kurt hated to leave it, but it would seem his daughter was in dire need of him.
Once on his feet, the heavily pregnant man walked—waddled—the best of his ability towards the door, out into the short corridor and to the stairs. For Kurt in this condition, navigating the stairs was almost like a scaling a mountain, yet backwards. Taking a deep breath, the pregnant man grasped the banister tightly and ever so slowly stepped down onto the top step. By the time he had it to the fifth step, his luck had run out.
“You’re not supposed to come down the stairs by yourself, papa.” Mischa told the man, looking up at him, having caught his pregnant father on the staircase without the aid of someone… anyone to help him down them. Kurt smiled at the child’s tone of voice—a voice which was once full of such anger—now one of laughter and playfulness, like a child’s tone should be.
“Well, in that case, who shall know besides us?” Kurt questioned, unable to hold back a grin. The thirteen year old rolled his eyes at his papa’s smile, completely exasperated by the man’s actions. But nevertheless, the boy mounted the stairs, grabbing Kurt’s free arm in his own and proceeded to help his pregnant father the rest of the way down.
“If dad finds out, then we’re both done for.” Mischa replied once they were both at the bottom of the staircase. Kurt pressed a kiss to his son’s hair, before releasing his grasp on the boy’s arm. The teenager blushed at the affectionate gesture, but allowed it to happen without fuss.
Although, Mischa was only a few years away from adulthood, he gladly took any and all of Kurt’s affection; in some way, he understood that his papa was trying to make up for all the years of his childhood which had been missed. It was one of the reasons why Mischa had not been sent away to school; but instead, attended a local boy’s school, where he boarded during the week and was allowed to come home on the weekends. The situation wasn’t ideal to Kurt, if he had his way, he would continue to teach Mischa until he was ready for university. Yet, he knew he couldn’t do that to Mischa; his son needed a proper education and the opportunity to socialize with other boys his own age.
“Then we must make sure that your dad doesn’t find out.” The former tutor said, winking at his son. “Now where is your sister, Rachel?”
For many, it would be a strange desire to name your child after your husband’s deceased wife, a woman whom you had never met and had held the heart of your husband before you. Yet, Kurt had felt an overwhelming need to name their daughter after the woman; because without her…without the accident, Noah and Kurt would have never have meet and Mischa would have never existed. And Kurt didn’t need to imagine his life without Noah or their son, for he already had…for seven long years.
“She’s in the study with dad.” Mischa replied, before disappearing up the stairs and into his room to work on his schoolwork.
Kurt watched as his son left, before turning around on his heel only to run smack dab into his husband’s chest. Pushing back slightly, Kurt peered into Noah’s face, observing the faint frown on the man’s lightly tanned face. “How did you get down the stairs?”
“Mischa helped me.” Kurt stated, with a look of innocent upon his face; it was a half truth at best, yet Kurt knew Noah would see right through it.
Noah raised an eyebrow at his husband in disbelief, but chose not to voice it. This pregnancy had been a bit harder on Kurt than the last one and the midwife was a tad worried about him, wanting him to stay as stationary as possible for as long as possible. However, Kurt was proving to be a difficult patient, if Noah and the rest of the household had a say in the matter. On more than one occasion, Noah had threatened to tie Kurt to a chair if he so much as moved an inch in either direction. Kurt, of course, had laughed in Noah’s face at the absurdity of the whole suggestion, until two days later when Kurt had begun to bleed for no reason and the doctor had to be sent for. After that, Kurt had taken the midwife’s orders to heart, worried for himself, for his unborn child, and the future of his family if something happened to him. He moved about the home less, walking only when it was necessary and at this moment, he thought it was necessary with his daughter screaming bloody murder.
“Kurt, you know what the midwife AND the doctor told you about unnecessary movement; now what has brought you down those stairs?” Noah questioned as he gave his husband a once over, checking to make sure the other man was not visibly harmed in anyway.
Kurt narrowed his eyes at Noah, scrutinizing the Jewish man. “Tell me, you heard Rachel screaming the house down?”
“Yes, I heard Rachel screaming.” Noah snapped at the smaller man. “And I’ve already dealt with it.”
Kurt blinked slowly at Noah’s response, slightly taken back by his husband’s response and the tone in his voice. “May I be the judge of that?” Kurt ground out through clenched teeth. “Or is that not allowed?”
Noah’s face softened; he knew that he shouldn’t have snapped yet couldn’t help it. He was worried about Kurt and when there was worry, there was a short-temper. “I shouldn’t have snapped; I’m sorry. And of course you are allowed to see Rachel; hell, she would rather see you than me.” Noah admitted, running his hand through his hair.
Kurt followed the gesture with his eyes, noting that his husband’s hair was getting a little too long and it was probably time for a cut; Noah hated his curls while Kurt loved them. Both Mischa and Rachel had inherited Noah’s curls and Kurt hoped that their next child did as well. “You know that’s not true. Rachel loves you. Now, why was she trying to scream the walls down?”
“She spilled cocoa down the front of her doll’s dress. And then she screamed for you.” Noah explained. Kurt couldn’t help the sigh that passed his lips at the information. The porcelain-faced doll had been a gift to Rachel on her fifth birthday and she was absolutely mad over it. It traveled everywhere with her and did almost everything the little girl did, except take a bath. Rachel had tried that once when the doll was still new, and the whole experience had ended in tears and hurt feelings.
“There’s a stain which is probably not going to come out.” Kurt remarked, turning on his heel and walking in the direction Noah had come. Noah didn’t comment as he silently followed his waddling husband towards the study, where Rachel and Mischa had been taking their dinner—apparently cocoa and probably cold ham and cheese to go with it.
Kurt smiled at the image of his children having their afternoon meal while their father managed the books. The former tutor handled the household differently than his husband had; instead of having a staff of four, they only had a maid, who generally helped Kurt when the need was called for. Their home was modest compared to the stately home Noah had once owned; but it was comfortable to them. The children each had a bedroom and the baby would have its own nursery when born. However, Kurt considered the best feature of the home was its location—the gorgeous view it offered of the Chicoteague Bay on Maryland’s southern coast.
The pocket doors of Noah’s study were slightly ajar, allowing Kurt to see his little girl, where she lay curled in a plush leather chair clutching her doll to her chest. The pregnant man’s heart went out to his daughter; she loved that doll like a parent would love their child. And if anything bad had happened to the ceramic and cloth figure, Rachel would end up in hysterics over it.
Sliding the doors the rest of the way open, Kurt entered the room, crossing the polished floors as quietly as possible. He didn’t want to startle the little girl, but he also didn’t want to alert her to his presence just yet. For the moment Rachel knew he was in the room, she would fly off that chair as fast as her legs could take her and expect to be picked up. Yet, in his current condition, picking Rachel up was out of the question, so he was hoping to settle for curling up in the chair with her.
Once he was in front of the little girl, whose eyes were fixated on the stain on the doll’s dress, Kurt bent down as far as his stomach would allow and brushed his hand along the girl’s badly done braid—Noah tried, but he had no idea how to properly braid their daughter’s hair, which meant when he did it, the braid usually ended up lopsided. With the pressure of the warm hand on her head, Rachel’s tear streaked face peered up at her papa’s softly smiling one. As her lip began to tremble at the sight of her papa, Kurt quickly shushed the little girl and laid a faint kiss upon her forehead. Moving away a little, Kurt straightened his back before lifting the girl slightly and maneuvering her the short distance across the leather chair so he could slide into the empty area. Once settled into the soft supple leather, Kurt tucked his youngest into his side and watched as Noah sunk onto the ottoman before them.
The room fell into silence save for the occasional sniffle from Rachel. After wiping her nose with the sleeve of her dress, Rachel pressed her small hand against Kurt’s bump, hoping to feel her sibling kick—it was her favorite thing because it tickled. “Papa, Lily’s dress got dirty? Is she ruined? Please say she’s not ruined.”
“No, sweetie, Lily isn’t ruined. She’s just a little dirty, like you are when you go out to play with Mischa.” Kurt told the young girl, covering her hand with his own.
Rachel nodded at the information, beaming at her papa. “So she needs a bath. Can she take a bath with me?”
Kurt and Noah chuckled at the question, not bothering to hide their amusement at their daughter’s earnest question. “No, we’re going to wash her dress and if the cocoa doesn’t come out, we’ll get her a new dress. How does that sound?”
“Good.” The small child agreed. “Can I help pick out the dress?”
“You can help pick out the fabric for the dress.” Kurt corrected, after all, the doll’s clothes had to be made just as Rachel’s own.
The ash haired girl grinned at her papa and then her daddy. Leaning over Kurt’s stomach, she smacked a huge kiss on the rounded belly before scooting to the edge of the chair, her little legs dangling a few feet above the floor. Understanding what his daughter wanted Noah reached out with two hands, grasping the child under both arms and placed her down onto the floor. Rachel smiled her thanks, following it with a kiss on Noah’s cheek before darting out of the study, leaving her doll next to Kurt on the chair.
Noah laughed as he watched the girl disappear around the corner, listening as her feet bounded up the stairs as fast as possible. Without even being told, Noah knew exactly were Rachel was headed and he could guarantee that Mischa would voice his displeasure at being interrupted by her when the family sat down for supper. “That girl is something else.”
Kurt laughed at the remark. “But she is our something else.”
“She is; they both are.” Noah agreed, taking the opportunity to shift into Rachel’s vacant spot. “I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.”
Turning into Noah so the pair would fit as comfortable and humanly possible in the leather chair, Kurt smirked at his husband. “Good. Because we’ve got another on the way, and if your answer had been anything else, I would have to hurt you.”
The Jewish man rolled his eyes at Kurt, knowing his husband was joking, before leaning over to kiss him, his teeth nipping at the plump lower lip of Kurt’s mouth. “I can outrun you.”
Kurt gave an undignified snort in response to the statement. Noah grinned before leaning in again to kiss his pregnant lover. Kurt accepted the kiss with every fiber of his being and returned it ten-fold.
It was only when air became necessary did Noah pull away, bringing his hands up to frame Kurt’s round cheeks. “God, I want you.” He breathed, his words passing through the small space between their lips. Kurt swallowed at the remark, feeling the warmth the words brought spread through his body—Noah still found him sexy even when he was as big as he was.
As Noah leaned forward once more to lay a kiss upon him, Kurt pushed him back with a hand to his chest, earning a frown from his husband. “Noah, we can’t start anything we can’t finish. And this is definitely one thing I can’t, midwife’s orders.”
Noah’s frown morphed into a pout; he knew Kurt was right. With a quick glance at the clock on the fireplace’s mantel, Noah pushed himself off the leather chair, taking care to not jar Kurt too much as he did so; once standing, he proceeded to haul Kurt to his feet. Kurt went willingly, letting his partner manhandle him before he laced his fingers with Noah’s and pulled him out of the study and towards the stairs. Once at the bottom of the stairs, Noah took over, placing his hand low on Kurt’s spine as he helped support and guide the pregnant man up the staircase. The journey was slow going, but the payoff was worth it—a lush, warm bed for Kurt to lie down on.
When the pair finally reached their bedroom, Noah led Kurt to their bed, watching as his spouse lay down on his side and emitted a small sigh as his head hit the pillow. With his knowledge of this pregnancy and the last, Noah knew what the small sound meant—Kurt was uncomfortable due to all of the walking he had done. Frowning more to himself than at Kurt, Noah walked around to the other side of the bed and slipped in behind the man. Pressing his hand against the small of Kurt’s back, he began to massaging the area, hoping to loosen up the sore muscles. Kurt’s next sigh turned into a low moan as Noah’s broad hands passed over a particularly tight area. Noah smirked at the sound, not bothering to pretend to be anything other than smug at being able to pull that sound from his gorgeous husband with just his hands.
As if he could see his husband’s face, Kurt mumbled an incoherent reply—a warm bed coupled with his husband’s warm hands releasing the tension in his back, Kurt couldn’t be bothered to try and keep his eyes open, so instead he let sleep pull him under. Once he was sure Kurt was asleep, Noah slipped out of bed and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. His pregnant lover needed as much rest as he could get, yet Noah also knew that Kurt hated missing so much time with their children. With this thought, Noah decided that supper would have a change of venue tonight—supper in their bedroom so Kurt could spend time with their children before bedtime. Smiling to himself for his moment of brilliance, Noah wandered down the hall to check that said children weren’t causing too much mischief before supper, and if they weren’t he would definitely have to help them rectify that.
