A/N: It's pretty much an angsty future!fic with lots of flashbacks. I've been getting a bit of writer's block lately so this is my attempt to relieve it. It might suck. Or not. I'm not making any promises that it will get finished soon(what with school having just started up again) but currently I'm very positive. I'll hopefully be updating once a week or so(I'll do this like a grown-up and not post all the 3 chapters finished so far at once). Also, this is the longest chapter yet, just so you know x) Anyway, I hope you like it! Maybe even so much that you'll drop me a review?

Madison Square Garden: Chapter 1

Blaine had always planned to go see Kurt in the things he took part in when they were older, but somehow a sold-out concert in Madison Square Garden wasn't what he had expected. He was stood in a sea of fans, who all loved Kurt for his voice, for his looks, for his profile as a world-wide artist. Blaine still kind of loved him for who he was. Even though they had lost contact ten years earlier.

They never actually broke up. They just stopped seeing each other. Blaine never thought that would happen.

Kurt smiled and looked at his boyfriend from the passenger seat. Blaine wasn't looking at the road anymore, he was smiling back at Kurt, nothing but love in his eyes.

"Blaine," he giggled, "keep your eyes on the road!"

The older boy tore his eyes away from the person he knew was his soul mate, and focused on his driving once more. "I can't help it if you're sitting there being all adorable!" he defended himself and earned a swat on the shoulder. "And don't distract me while I'm driving," he chastised, smiling.

Kurt loosened his belt and reached over to Blaine, giving him a peck on the cheek. "I could distract you so much more," he whispered in a husky voice, lips hovering millimeters over Blaine's ear. Not quite satisfied that Blaine was flustered enough, he looked down at his boyfriend's crotch, covered in skinny jeans he was no doubt regretting at this point, and met Blaine's hazel eyes once more.

"Babe, I think you should sit down," Blaine said in a high-pitched voice to rival Kurt's.

Kurt did as he suggested, while Blaine took a deep breath. He was about to say something to Kurt about irresponsible passengers when Kurt's phone started ringing.

"Kurt Hummel," he answered. "Oh, hi Carole, what's..." Kurt sounded as if he had been cut off and was silent for a minute. "What?" he said, horrified, and without even looking at him Blaine could tell he was close to crying. "No! Of course! We're on our way. Don't worry," Kurt was now sobbing. "Yeah. See you soon. It's going to be fine, Carole. He's going to be fine!" Kurt hung up and stared out of the window for a second. He was crying silently, but intensely.

"Kurt?" Blaine looked at him again, feeling more worried than he ever thought he could. Kurt didn't answer, and Blaine was getting frustrated. "Kurt! Tell me what she said."

Kurt finally looked at him, eyes bloodshot. "We have to go back!" he said, choking on the words. "It's my dad."

Blaine let out the breath he didn't know he was holding, and started searching for the next place to turn around. They had just been in Lima on a holiday, since Kurt had recently graduated from college. They hadn't seen the Hummel/Hudsons since the day before, though, because they had been staying with Mercedes the last night. He swiftly turned the car around and started flooring it to get back as quickly as they could. "Is he in the hospital?" he asked softly, doing his best to be strong for Kurt.

"Yeah," Kurt said weakly as he nodded. He hadn't stopped crying since he received the phone call, and all Blaine wanted to do was hold him. He settled for the only thing he could do in his current capacity and reached his hand out for his boyfriend to take. Kurt took it gratefully in both hands, and Blaine startled at how chilled they had become.

Neither of them knew how bad this was going to be, but Blaine was preparing for the worst.

The lights on the stage started flicking like crazy, and after a few notes of one of Kurt's most famous songs rang out, he appeared on the stage. It was a sight for sore eyes. He was wearing tight, leather pants and a white t-shirt sprinkled with glitter. His eyes were lined with black eyeliner and one of the dancers was helping him into a long, dark red coat. Blaine stood, stunned to silence, among the screaming fans. He was standing fairly close to the stage, but he still had to crane his neck around some taller people's heads to get a good view of his former boyfriend. The music stopped dramatically, and for a second, the screaming did too. Kurt raised the microphone to his lips.

"Hi, everyone," he said simply, and the music started up again. Kurt started singing, and Blaine was reminded of how amazing it sounded. He heard Kurt's songs on the radio almost every day – as an extra on Wicked he also helped set up the stage every night, and when they did that the speakers were always on full blast – but live it sounded so different. So much more alive. And it sparked so many memories with Blaine.

Some of the fans were looking at him. Noticing him in the crowd of thousands. Somehow pictures of him and Kurt had surfaced a while ago, and some of the fans must have recognized him from them. It made him feel vulnerable. It would be impossible to run from them with all the bodies dancing around him. Impossible to run away.

They arrived at the hospital 30 minutes after Kurt had gotten the phone call. It felt to both of them like hours, though. Kurt busted through the doors, Blaine hot on his heels, and Kurt almost shouted at the first nurse he spotted. He didn't even bother to go to the reception.

The orderly pointed him in the direction past the reception and a set of double doors, and they ran like neither of them had ever run before, until Kurt crashed into the arms of his step-mother.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt," Carole said, tearing up for what looked to be the hundredth time that day.

Kurt buried his face into her shoulder. "S' not your fault," he said, his voice muffled. "You know that."

After a few minutes they had both calmed down, and Carole spotted Blaine for the first time. "Come here, honey," she said and pulled him into a fierce hug as well. When he stepped back, Kurt was instantly pressed to his side. They all needed someone to lean on.

"How is he?" Kurt whispered.

"He's in surgery," Carole replied, looking down at Finn, who was half asleep on one of the few chairs in that area. She petted his head affectionately, and left her hand in his hair as she kept talking. She took a shallow breath, her voice hoarse. "They said he might not make it," she said, sounding as strong as she possibly could considering the circumstances.

He felt Kurt stiffen at his side, and he tightened his grip on his boyfriend's waist. A few tears now fell from Blaine's eyes as well. But he needed to be strong for Kurt. He reminded himself of this and wiped his tears away with the back of his free hand.

An hour later, a doctor came out to see them. He said that Burt had fallen into a coma after the surgery, and with his risky condition they couldn't do anything about it. The heart attack he'd had had been serious.

"Can I see him?" Kurt asked, straightening up and leaving Blaine's side for the first time since they had gotten there.

"Yes," the doctor said, and Blaine exhaled, knowing that Kurt would go mental if he didn't even get to see his father. "But," the doctor glanced at Blaine, "it's family only. You understand."

Kurt looked at him, askance, but he just waved it off. He loved Burt like his own father – actually, he loved Burt more than he could ever love his own – but he went up to Kurt and told him it was alright.

"Go see him," he said, trying to sound like the supportive boyfriend Kurt needed him to be even when all he wanted was to go with him. Both to hold Kurt up and to get to fall apart at Burt's side.

"Now I'm not alone anymore, the doubts that we had are leaving us, I'm not alone anymore, but the world is still deceiving us..."

Kurt had gotten to the song that always reminded Blaine of the both of them. The first time he had heard it he'd even cried. Kurt sang so beautifully. Blaine, along with everyone else, was picked up by the stream of the audience, who were swaying to the slow, melodic song, and Blaine suddenly found himself almost at the front row. So close to the stage that Kurt might even be able to see him. This is not good, he thought, looking back at the sea of people behind him. He tried navigating back out of the light emanating from the stage, but one of the fans that recognized him stopped him.

"You're Blaine Anderson," she said, starry-eyed. "Can I have your autograph?" She gave him a scrunched up piece of paper from her jeans pocket and a pen to write with.

It caught him a little off-guard, to be recognized, and almost idolized that way, but he obliged, dapper as always.

The song was going into its final chorus, and the girl was still standing right behind him, torn between grinning at him and watching Kurt. He simply couldn't get away. He looked at the stage, and finally at Kurt, who was now without the coat, sitting on a chair in the middle of the stage, just singing. Despite himself, Blaine couldn't help but stare. It was clearer, this close, the things that were different about Kurt from the time they were together. He was more confident, that's for sure, and his cheeks were rid of that baby fat that had made him so adorable. He still was, though. His hair was a darker brown, and he was smiling, though a single tear made its way down his cheek.

"But it's okay," he sang the last line, "I'm not alone." He closed his eyes, and his chest heaved as he took a deep breath. He seemed as exhausted by that number as he did by the up-beat dance routines. Kurt took one last look at the audience, smiling sadly, before the lights dimmed down and covered the stage in darkness.

Kurt hadn't seen him. As relieved as Blaine was by that, somehow it also made him feel disappointed. He wondered why, as he pushed his way back through the fans, until he came to a spot where he didn't feel quite so exposed.

When Kurt and Carole had left, Blaine sat down next to a recently awakened Finn, who was sitting with his face buried in his hands.

"I can't believe this," Finn said, and to Blaine's surprise his voice was choked up. He put a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. Finn looked up at him, cheeks stained with tears. "We finally get a real family... I finally get a f-father, and then this happens."

"It's going to be okay," Blaine said tentatively.

"You don't know that," Finn whispered almost angrily.

"You're right," Blaine agreed. "I don't." He blinked away the new tears that were blocking his vision. "But Burt is like a father to me too, and the only thing keeping me together right now – for Kurt... for all of you – is thinking that he's going to be okay."

Finn looked at him, not expecting such a statement from his brother's boyfriend, but feeling like it helped – for the moment. He sighed and stood up. "I'm going to go home," he said, his voice soft. "For a couple hours, anyway. You want to come?"

Blaine thought about it. It was in the middle of the night now, and he could use some sleep... but he didn't want to leave Kurt. And he didn't want something to happen while he was away. In the end, the pull to stay was greater than the desire to leave. "No..." he attempted to smile at the younger boy. "I think I'll stay."

Without actually meaning to, Blaine had ended up at the backstage door through which Kurt was going to walk any moment, to get to his transportation(a limo, Blaine noted with a certain envy). He had really only been looking for a cab. At least that's what he told himself. He stood close to the limo, but he hoped that his face would be as unintelligible to Kurt as the faces of the people on the other side of the partition were to him.

When Kurt came through that door, the noise of the crowd started to build up, and sparks flew as the paparazzi and the fans were competing for the best picture of the star. A less touched-up Kurt dressed in jeans and a cardigan atop a plain t-shirt was bombarded with questions and hands reaching out with notepads, pens, and cameras, wanting autographs and pictures. While Blaine could admit he was a little proud of the fact that he'd had to sign an autograph of his own tonight, he could understand why being famous wouldn't be the best thing in the world at times. He didn't think he would be able to handle it as well as Kurt did, all smiling and talking and doing as much as he could before his bodyguards urged him forward. Bodyguards? Kurt needs bodyguards now. Just before he got into his limo, Blaine could have sworn he was looking right at him. They held each other's gaze for a moment, but Kurt had to break away and was in the car before Blaine had managed to convince himself he wasn't dreaming again. Kurt's expression had been indecipherable, but Blaine was still sure he had seen him. Just before Kurt had disappeared, a ghost of a smile had played across his lips. Blaine wondered what it meant. He wondered if it meant anything at all. He wondered why he even came to see his high school – and college – sweetheart. He wondered if he should do it again another time.