The first time it happened – or, at least, the first time around Kurt – was when the Warblers were frantically preparing for their 'impromptu' Valentine's performance at Breadstix.

That's not to say Kurt was completely clueless. He'd noticed the cinnamon flavouring Blaine's coffee, instead of sugar. He knew Blaine would only pick at food on their coffee dates-but-not-dates. He'd seen him slowly drag out a piece of pizza at the Warblers' Christmas Party, trying to make it seem like he was eating more.

That being said, it was still a shock.

Blaine had rushed into rehearsal – late – head moving too fast for his body in desperation and he stumbled slightly as he entered the room. His eyes were slightly gazed and his face deathly pale, dark rings painting the fatigue in his sunken eyes. "S-S-Sorry I-I'm l-l-l-late," he muttered, the words tripping out his mouth.

Wes and David shared a look, both frowning in concern. "That's okay, Blaine. Take a seat." The Asian gently prompted him.

Despite his own worry, Kurt couldn't help but feel a hint of resentment flare up. The last Warbler to arrive at practise was always late, even if 5 minutes early, yet somehow Blaine was the exception?

That wasn't fair, though, and Kurt knew it. Blaine was always early. He'd had a rough week and looked dead on his feet anyway. He slid slightly on the couch to make room for his friend, who sat heavily next to him, eyes averted.

"Are you alright?" Kurt whispered aside. Blaine just grunted noncommittally and sunk further back on the lounge. Kurt again felt his concern morph into frustration. Trust Blaine to make himself sick and push everyone else away.

"Okay, everybody, on your feet!" David barked, handing out sheet music. "No, Blaine, you stay sitting… We were thinking, seeing how it's love and all, we'd start with you on a stool and the rest of us circled round you, scatter the voices so we sound more united." He directed the boys around the couch. "We'll try the opening a few times… You guys know who you blend with, please try to stick together!"

The choreography was fairly simple. A few turns, a bit of flirting with the other members, engaging with the 'audience'. So Kurt really couldn't help but notice Wes and David's eyes constantly flicking to Blaine then back to each other, or hear Thad mutter, "When was the last time he ate…?" Kurt had to frown at that. Blaine was always so confident… He couldn't have an eating disorder… could he?

Rehearsal seemed to deplete what little energy Blaine had left, his hands trembling, every note draining what little pigment he had remaining in his face. Breaking point came when Blaine tried to stand and his legs gave way – the boy buckled and clutched whoever was nearest him – which just so happened to be Kurt.

"Shit!" Wes exclaimed, though surprisingly rather calmly. "Where's his bag?" He started rummaging through one of the desks, looking for something. "Andrew, help Kurt lie Blaine down. Nick, go get the nurse, tell her it's happened again… Hopefully we won't need her though."

Meanwhile, Blaine was trying to speak. "K-K-K-Kurt… I-I n-need…" Kurt wasn't sure what scared him most – the sudden unexpected stutter, the whisper that his voice couldn't seem to reach beyond, or the flickering eyelids warning of the pre-eminent collapse.

"Need what?" Kurt gripped his shoulders tightly, swallowing the panic building in his chest. "Stay with me, Blaine, what do you need?"

"David, have you got his bag? Trent, go see if Kurt's alright? Try and calm him down?" Wes was still barking orders.

"I c-can't… I can't m-m-move… I-I-I'm s-sorry, K-Kurt…" Blaine's breathing grew more shallow. Kurt could see his pulse beating in his neck, very rapid yet remarkably strong. He felt a hand on his back as Trent knelt down beside him.

Jeff hurried up to them, ripping open a packet of gummi bears. "They're not Red Vines, Blaine, I'm sorry," he muttered, lying on his stomach near Blaine's head. He turned to Kurt. "Do you want to, or shall I?"

Blaine groaned. "Sh-sh-sh-sh…"

Jeff cut him off. "Got it here." He put a couple of bears on Blaine's tongue. "Chew, you idiot!"

But Blaine just spat them back out, too weak to move his jaw even that much any more. Apparently he'd reached the point of resistance, though he didn't have the energy to argue.

Wes hurried up to them then, tube of sweetened condensed milk in his hands. "Kurt, stand back, he HATES this and it will go EVERYwhere. But it'll help." He squirted some into Blaine's mouth, holding his breath. Blaine gagged slightly, but swallowed.

The change was almost instant. His breathing slowed, and the faintest hint of pink appeared on his cheeks. David walked up to them next, bag in hand, and spoke quietly to Wes. Kurt watched in silence, confused, wondering what the hell he had just witnessed.

"Kurt?" Blaine suddenly asked, his voice a lot stronger than five minutes before. He squinted, pushing himself slowly onto his elbows. "Wait… Wes… What am I sitting at?"

"25. You got lucky. How are you feeling?" Wes placed a couple of folded blazers underneath Blaine's head, then pushed him back down.

"Dizzy… Sick… The usual." Blaine groaned. "Oh, God, Kurt…"

Kurt blinked. "What… what just went on? Are you okay? How often does this happen?"

David put a hand on his shoulder. "Let him rest a bit longer. When he's back to normal, we'll explain."

"And… how long is that going to take?"

Blaine rolled over to face Kurt. "About fifteen minutes," he smiled.

A/N: Yeap. I own nothing. Sorry, guys.

So... I wonder what's wrong with Blaine? Hmm... Hopefully you enjoy this. There will be more to come, though it's not a series as such, I'm thinking more just a collection... THere's probably some term for that, hey? But yeah. I don't know what that is.

So yes. All shall be revealed soon enough. Or enough as I can be bothered to. This is such a bad form of procrastination...

Please let me know what you think? Love me? Hate me? Wish grievous bodily harm on me? I love love love reviews, I'm always looking to improve my work :-)

Hope you enjoyed it. Keep smiling! :D