So this is a reaction fic to the latest S4 Klaine spoiler, so back away if you don't want to know.

It's NOT a Kim!verse fic (I know, I find it weird too) but it is still OC perspective.

It's quite angsty but I made a promise a long time ago and I won't break it.

Say hi to me on tumblr at 'inallofohio' if you want to :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Never have, never will. Also this is wildly inaccurate, but it's a story :P

1.30 am.

Thirty minutes left of my shift.

Thank god for that.

It's been a long night, as it always is in the emergency room of the New York Downtown Hospital. Being an ER resident means I feel it more than most.

In the last hour I've seen drunk people, stoned people, prostitutes, drug dealers and one little boy who got a crayon stuck up his nose.

Why did I decide to get into medicine again?

1.31am.

I've just been handed a new chart, hopefully the last one of my night. It's never nice to end a shift like this though.

18 year old male, victim of a mugging down in Battery Park.

God knows why he was out alone so late.

I look down the form to gain more of an understanding and see his address details.

Jesus the kid has only lived here a month, and what a fine welcome the citizens of this damn island have given him.

Anyway, contact details.

I scan the familiar page to find his next of kin.

The box labels his father, a one 'Burt Hummel', as his main emergency contact, but the address is an Ohio one.

That makes things harder.

Oh good, there's another emergency contact.

I'm sorry Miss… Rachel Berry, but your night is about to get a lot shittier.

1.45am

I finish processing everything fairly quickly, and go over to Mr Hummel's bay.

A nurse has just left him, carrying the necessary equipment for patching up surface wounds with her. It's up to me to check for more serious injuries, and stitch up the worse cuts.

I hear crying and my hands shake a little as I pull back the curtain.

The kid in the bed looks far worse off than most mugging victims I meet.

It's not his injuries per se, they're unfortunately par for the course in this situation but…

He just looks deeply, monumentally…

Well, sad.

I startle him as I make my entrance, and he looks up at me with huge tear filled eyes.

This is why I didn't go into paeds.

I can't do sad eyes.

I try my most soft and sympathetic tone.

'Mr Hummel?' I say.

He nods slightly.

'I need to do some stitches and check your ribs, if that's alright.'

He simply nods again.

'We've called Rachel Berry for you, but we couldn't get through' I say, trying to get some sort of verbal response. I need to check that off the long list of things I have to do.

He says nothing, so I try again.

'She's listed as your emergency contact, that's right isn't it?'

Again with the nodding.

I shouldn't do this, it's technically the patient/emergency contact's responsibility to make sure other relatives/friends are informed in an ER as busy as this one, but…

'I noticed your father was listed on your chart' I say softly, 'would you like us to call him?'

This time he erupts into heavy sobs.

I'm not getting out of here on time tonight.

2.02am

'I'm sorry.'

I almost don't hear him, he says it so quietly.

I'm stitching up a particularly bad cut on his eyebrow, and am concentrating hard so I leave as little a scar as possible, so I pull back to speak to him.

'What are you sorry for?' I ask, genuinely puzzled.

'Just… Being a waste of time. I know emergency rooms are always busy' he croaks, voice hoarse from his crying.

'They are' I reply, 'They're busy because we spend our time treating a lot of people who need our help. People exactly like you. You need to be here Kurt, so don't be sorry.'

We're silent again for a moment, and then he speaks once more.

'My boyfriend broke up with me tonight. It's why I was alone. I know you must've been wondering.'

He says the word 'boyfriend' almost defensively, and I wonder why until I remember his father's Ohio address.

God this poor boy.

He doesn't say anymore, and I don't prompt him. If he doesn't want to talk then he doesn't have to.

2.24am

'I've finished your stitches now Kurt.'

He rouses from where he's been absent-mindedly picking at his thumbnail, and smiles at me.

'Would you like to see in the mirror before I cover them up?' I ask.

'Yeh, I guess so' he answers, and I pass him the hand mirror.

There's a line of stitches across the eyebrow cut, and one on his jawline. I've done a good job, I know, I don't want the scars to be bad, and he seems pleased.

'Why' he says, almost smirking, 'you sew almost as well as I do.'

I can tell that, underneath all this sadness, Kurt is a fierce and passionate person. I'm glad to see it come out a little, so I do prompt this time.

'You sew?' I ask, trying to be nonchalant.

'I do' he replies, 'I… I want to go into fashion. I just started interning at vogue, actually.'

'Impressive' I admit, and it is. An eighteen year old at a conde nast magazine? He must be good.

'Thanks' he smiles, 'I wanted to go into musical theatre originally…'

2.53am

He told me a lot just now. I can't even bring myself to care that I'm over my shift. This kid, he's…

He's extraordinary.

From Buttfuck, Ohio to the (literally) mean streets of New York, he's not exactly had an easy time of it.

We're onto Blaine now.

'He's trying to be noble, I know he is, but god, doesn't he realise that I don't give a damn? I love him more than this city, more than anything, and he thinks that us being apart is a good thing?'

Blaine is the love of Kurt's life.

'I want him back, I want him here.'

He shakes his head, and then admits in a small voice

'No. I need him here.'

The tears are back, and his shoulders are beginning to shake.

I'm an hour over shift. If I…

God this is so against protocol it's unbelievable, but fuck it.

3.07am

I'm technically not at work. I'm not even on call. I'm using my personal phone.

I can't get into trouble. Kurt needs this.

This is my mantra as I sneakily retrieve Kurt's cellphone on my way out of his bay and find the name I need.

I transfer the number into my own cell, and press the call button.

A shaky male voice picks up after two rings.

'He-hello?'

I cut straight to the point.

'Is this Blaine Anderson?'

'Yes…'

'Hi. I shouldn't be doing this but… Well, I'm a doctor at NY Downtown's emergency room, and a one Mr Kurt Hummel was brought into us about two hours ago now.'

Blaine drops something, and swears into the speaker.

'What?'

'Look, feel free to ignore this call, it's up to you. I know I'm meddling and intruding and it's none of my business, but it is my business to ensure my patients get better, and Kurt needs one very important thing for that to happen in my opinion.'

He sighs heavily before replying.

'He… He talked about me? About us?'

He sounds hopeful and I know, thank god, that I've done the right thing.

'He was mugged tonight, in Battery Park…'

A sharp inhale on the other end of the line.

'And he's mainly okay physically, but Blaine, he really isn't okay emotionally.'

A pause, and then…

'Okay.'

'Okay?' I reply.

'Okay. He needs me. I'm not far, I'll be there soon.'

He hangs up then, and I let out the breath I was holding.

Okay.

3.32am

I know when he arrives. I hear heavy thudding footsteps run to the nurses station, and the same shaky voice say Kurt's name.

I stand up from where I've been waiting in the grotty family room, wipe off my sweating palms on my scrubs and go over to him.

If Kurt looks sad then Blaine looks devastated. His hair is a mess of gunky curls, probably the result of him running his hands through his usually gelled do (I saw the background on Kurt's phone), and his clothes are rumpled and creased.

'Blaine?' I ask hesitantly.

He turns and I see his eyes are full of tears.

Again with the damn paeds eyes.

'Are you the doctor who called me?' he says.

'I am' I reply, and I introduce myself.

'Can I… Is it okay if I see him?' he asks.

I nod, and lead him to the curtained bay. A cursory glance into the space shows that Kurt is on the verge of sleep, but seems to be hanging on for something.

For someone.

'Go ahead' I whisper.

I barely have time to walk three steps back towards the doctors lounge before I hear an exclamation of 'Blaine!'

I stop, and listen for a few seconds.

There's talking to quiet for me to discern, but then…

'I'm here baby. I always will be.'

I smile.

4.24am

I leave them for almost an hour, but I want to do Kurt's discharge myself and I really should be getting home to bed.

When I enter, the boys are both on the bed and laughing quietly.

There are vestiges of a difficult conversation, tear tracks down both of their faces and a pile of cried into tissues on the bedside table.

But they both look truly and brilliantly happy.

'I should tell Blaine to get off the bed right now' I interrupt, 'as it's very very against policy, but I won't.'

Kurt sends me a dazzling smile, one that shows off all his teeth.

'Thanks doc' he says, shifting to burrow further into Blaine's arm, which is around his shoulders.

'What say we get you out of here then?'

Kurt nods, and I get to my work.

4.47am

Blaine has helped Kurt off the bed, mindful of the bruises on his torso.

'Now Mr Hummel, you need rest, and lots of it' I say sternly, 'and I will write you a sicknote to give to your boss because I do not need you being a frenzied intern for at least a week.'

I scribble the note and some prescriptions for painkillers, and hand them to him.

'You look after yourself. I don't want to see you back here, alright?'

They both grin, and I see them to the door, where they get into the taxi waiting for them.

I lean into the window, and Kurt rolls it down.

'Are you two going to be okay?' I ask hesitantly.

Kurt smiles softly and holds up his and Blaine's joined hands.

'We'll be just fine' he replies, with no hesitation at all.

I see them kiss as the driver pulls away.

They're going to be okay.

We shall return to regular posts now :P