The idea for this story came to me in the middle of class yesterday. I was reading the book If I Stay (I can't remember the author at the moment) and I thought "What if something like this happened to Kurt or Blaine?") And this just would not go away until I wrote it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee...but that was obvious.
The first thing I remember is white. Everything is a sickeningly bright shade of white. I'm not sure which way is up and which way is down. It's kind of like being in the middle of a blizzard, except this is ten times scarier. I can hear beeps, lots and lots of beeps. They're all irritatingly loud and screechy and I just want someone to make it stop. I'm faintly aware of the other noises resonating throughout the room. There are people murmuring in the background. If I tried I could probably figure out who is talking, but I'm too tired and they're speaking far too quietly.
My head hurts. That's the second thing I process; and I'm hungry. Extremely hungry. When was the last time I ate, I try to remember. Thinking just increases the headache. It takes me a moment to realize I don't know where I am. I've started to make out the surroundings of the room, but I don't recognize it. There are all sorts of mechanical contraptions and everything is very plain. There isn't much furniture, aside from the bed I'm laying on and the couch in the corner. And then it hits me. I'm staring at myself. I'm watching myself sleep. But I'm not just watching myself sleep. I'm watching myself sleep while attached to various machines, with so many tubes attached to my body it hurts to even look at.
This is just a bad dream. It has to be, there is no way this is happening. I pinch myself; it hurts. I try to scream, to ask for help, just to make noise, but I can't. Nothing is coming out. I look around frantically for anyone else, someone to tell me what's going on. The people I had heard earlier are gone. Odd. I thought. I don't remember them leaving. I jump slightly as I hear the sound of a door opening. I look over to where the sound came from, relief flooding me instantly when I see who it is.
This time, when I try to speak, it works. "Dad!" I yell. He ignores me. He ignores me. My own dad. This has to be a dream. I can't seriously be staring at myself asleep (or unconscious – I'm not sure which at this point) and having my own dad ignore me. I watch as he makes his way to the chair I had been sitting in. He stands in front of it, as though to sit, but stays standing. His eyes are filling with tears that he doesn't dare shed. My dad doesn't cry. Ever. He reaches out and touches my face, although I'm not entirely sure it is my face anymore, considering I'm able to see this all happening.
A haunting though strikes me. Am I dead? Is that why I can see myself? Is that why my dad looks like he's going to cry? I think back as far as I can, but all I remember is getting in my car and pulling onto the freeway. I was driving down the freeway that connects Westerville and Lima, blasting Katy Perry and singing along. It was getting dark, so I was going a little faster than usual. I heard screeching metal, and then… that was it. That's as far back as it goes. I must have been in a car accident.
"Oh buddy," my dad says, his voice is thick with emotion, something I rarely hear, "Look what they did to you." He chokes on the last few words, the tears finally falling. He looks like he wants to say more but can't find his voice. I feel myself start to tear up too. Only now do I realize how terrified I am.
"You're, um, you're friend," he manages to say, "He's outside. The poor kid is devastated, begging to see you. Figure that's what you'd want, you were always so fond of 'im."
He turns to leave. I want to yell, I want him to stay. I want my dad so badly right now, it would almost be embarrassing if I weren't so damn scared. He shakes his head, his shoulders hunched forward as he leaves the room without so much as a parting glance. I can't help but feel slightly furious. How dare he come in here, cry, and leave? I'm about to rush out after him when the door opens again.
The relief I felt when my dad came in was nothing compared to how I feel now. It's like I'm breathing for the first time, like I've been carrying a million weights on my shoulders and they've just been lifted. I reach out to my best friend, wanting so badly to just touch him, but he moves away. He walks towards the lifeless form on the bed.
"Blaine," he whispers. The sound of his voice is so broken, it tears me to pieces. I want to say that I'm right here if he would just turn around, but I don't.
Kurt would never ignore me, neither would my father. The only explanation is that they can't see me, or hear me, for that matter. It seems so unreasonable, but everything happening right now is a little surreal.
The most gut-wrenching, painful sob jars me back to the present. I don't have to look to know it's Kurt. I can't stand much more of this. I should be worried about the fact that I might be dead right now, but all that matters to me is Kurt is crying and Kurt is in pain and I just want to take it away. God, I love him so much. It hits me then that I may never be able to tell him.
"I hope you can hear me, Blaine," Kurt chokes out. His voice is so pained, and his face is so tortured, it kills me. "I knew I shouldn't have let you drive home so late," he continues, "I should have let you leave when you wanted to." I can't help but chuckle at this. I never want to leave, every moment with Kurt is pure heaven. "But I just had to make you stay for dinner. I really hope you wake up… I don't think I can take it without you. Blaine, I-I'm in love with you."
My head snaps up and my jaw falls open. This is a dream. I'm sure of it now. There is absolutely, positively no conceivable way that any of this happening. I mean sure, I had always hoped Kurt would love me back, but I had never considered it possible. Add to it that I'm somehow invisible and watching myself sleep. Yeah, definitely a dream.
Suddenly, Kurt is opening the door and leaving me alone. He must have said more, and I missed it. He probably started laughing, saying he was just kidding. I want to cry, but at the same time I want to laugh. I want to cry because I'm terrified beyond anything I could possibly believe, and I want to laugh because this is a dream and I'm going to wake up any moment now. I do the only thing I can think to do, I crawl onto the bed next to my sleeping form, and try to fall asleep.
I'm vaguely aware of the sounds of crying coming from my right, but mostly all I can focus on is the intense pain I feel. It feels like someone dropped a ton of bricks on me, beat me with the bricks, and walked away, leaving them to crush my chest. I start to panic, inhaling sharply and sitting up with a start.
"Blaine!" a familiar voice exclaims. I try to calm my erratic breathing and look around. I'm in a hospital. Everything is white and plain, there's a couch in the far corner and a chair next to my bed. Someone is sitting in the chair, but I'm too confused to try and figure out who.
"Blaine? Can you hear me?" the voice says again. This time I register who is sitting in the chair.
I'm hit with a sudden flash of memories. My beat-up body in a hospital bed connected to multiple machines, my father crying, Kurt crying, Kurt saying he loves me. I remember thinking I was dreaming, but now, looking around the room, I'm starting to believe otherwise. If I wasn't dreaming, then all of that really happened. I really am in a hospital because of a car accident, my father really did cry, and Kurt really said he loves me.
"Kurt?" I look at him, an involuntary smile spreading across my face. "Kurt!" I yell as I attempt to hug him. The tubes connected to my arms and chest tug at me, making me lay back down.
"It's probably best you don't move too much," he says, looking at me with adoring eyes. I want to cry, but from joy. This boy, this beautiful boy in front of me, loves me. I'm sure of it now, I didn't dream anything.
"You cannot even begin to imagine how relieved I am right now," Kurt sighs. I look at him, studying his outfit. I'm surprised to see him wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, but at the same time I'm really not. I'm surprised because this is Kurt and Kurt does not go anywhere without looking his best. But I'm not because this is Kurt and knowing him, he was probably too busy worrying to really care about clothing.
"I love you," the words slip out without me even meaning to. I don't regret it though. I know now I would rather he knows and not feel the same than go forever wondering.
He just stares at me. I start to backtrack, thinking maybe I really did dream it. But I'm cut off by a pair of lips on my own. I immediately melt into the kiss, it's impossible not to when the person you're in love with is kissing you.
"You have no idea how long I've waited for you to say that," he mumbles into the kiss. I smile slightly.
Oh I think I do.
Yeah, I know lame ending. Sorry! I just didn't know how to end it.
Anyway, as I have mentioned in my other stories, I want to start a multi-chapter prompt fic of different ways for Klaine to have gotten together. Feel free to drop any ideas in a review, or you can drop them in my ask box at porcelaindoughface . tumblr . com (take out the spaces)
Thanks for reading :)