"Hey" Elliot yells when a car run past him, missing his arm by an inch and without even thinking about slowing down after the close call with Elliot's arm.
If Elliot hadn't been used to New York's life, he would have been scared at the idea of walking for another couple of blocks before arriving home. Luckily he is now used to this. So he is just irritated and he really wished he could slap that ass .iI's better for him to slow down his pace, at least until the car is out of sight.
It's just a second or two before the car becomes too small for Elliot to see, looking like a black point and disappearing over the horizon.
Elliot jerks, he is sure he jumped at least two or three inches from the ground when he heard a yell and realizes that there is someone laying unconscious on the ground few meters from him. It has happened so quickly that he hadn't even noticed anything. He knew that ass would have done something like that, sooner or later. Elliot had been so lucky not being in that person's place.
"Shit!" he swears running to the limp form and kneeling next to him. Elliot's bones send a distressed impulse to his brain, complaining about the way they met the hard concrete, but Elliot ignores the pain, trying to concentrate on the guy in front of him.
"Ehy! You okay?" he asks, placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to let the person know that he is here, without moving him. Elliot doesn't want to hurt him. He could be hurt enough and moving him would just make any injuries worse.
He is a guy, damn it! He is probably even younger than Elliot. Indeed, when Elliot gives him a better look, ignoring the thin trickle of blood running down from his split lip, he is sure that he is just a kid. Maybe he isn't even eighteen.
"You with me?" he repeats, trying to ignore the panic rising from the pit of his stomach, "Come on, dude!"
The boy grunts, opening his eyes just enough for him to meet Elliot's scared look. They are wet and Elliot wonders if he is understanding what is happening to him at all. He looks so confused, but after all he must be still numb and dazed.
"Dude, are you okay?" he asks, "Do you want me to call an ambulance?"
The little boy whispers something absolutely incoherent and then murmurs a tired, "Dunno."
"Okay. Just… Don't worry."
Elliot carefully rubs his arm, asking himself why there isn't anyone trying to help them. Because, really, in this moment he feels so helpless. What if this guy is dying right here in front of him?
"Hey, dude. How d'ya feel?" he asks again and he can't help but notice how much the guy looks confused, "You didn't hit your head, did you? Oh, God! You are dying, aren't you?"
"Hope 'm not," he answers, barely getting the words out and closing his eyes when a sudden wave of pain hits him, "Head's spining".
"Ehm. Okay. No panic. It can be just your brain being a little shaken up inside your skull, right?"
"What?"
"Really, dude, Should I call an ambulance? Can you stand up at all?"
The kid tries to shrug, but he stops almost immediately, tightening his jaw, trying to breathe through the pain. Elliot gives him a concerned look and when the kid opens his eyes again he has already decided what to do.
"Okay, I'm calling 911. Don't even try to move again. Pretty, please."
The little guy agrees, aware that he has no chance to move again without passing out for the pain. He hasn't even paid attention to the name Elliot has given him and that's probably for the best.
Elliot swears a couple of times while he is talking to the operator, but once the call ends he tries his best to be reassuring. Why did the operator ended the call, by the way? Shouldn't he stay with them until the ambulance gets them?
"Just a little of patience," he says calmly.
He has tried to understand what's wrong with Blaine, but Blaine isn't capable of helping Elliot in any way.
The operator gave him a few useless recommendations and left him alone taking care of the injured boy. So Elliot tries to find a comfortable position, sitting leg crossed next to the guy and keeping him company.
He still looks around. The operator told him to pay attention to where they are, not remain in the middle of the street or something like that. Luckily the kid has been thrown on the edge of the road, so there is no way they can be the target of another crazy driver. Nobody is out of their homes or driving except for the ass that hit Elliot and Blaine. That is ridiculous because it's ten in the morning and people should be out of their homes by now.
"It's okay," he keeps telling the poor guy, unable to find something more appropriate or more intelligent to say. "My name is Elliot. Yours?"
"B-Blaine."
"Okay, Blaine. What a nice name. So, can you tell me what hurts?"
"Dunno. Everythin' I guess."
Great.
"Hey, are you from New York, Blaine?" he asks, just to make him talk a little more. He really doesn't like the idea of Blaine lying on the ground on his own, thinking that he is going to die or else.
"Nope. Study here. Argh!" he gasps, his breathing increasing suddenly.
"Really? And what do you study?" he keeps asking, trying to ignore Blaine's harrowing moaning and pretending to be interested in what he is going to answer.
"Music."
"Wow. You know, I'm a musician. And a singer."
This seems to keep Blaine's attention and Elliot grins, sure that he has found a good theme for their conversation while they wait. But before he can say anything else, Blaine grimaces, screaming in a way that makes Elliot's stomach turn.
"What's wrong?"
Blaine grits his teeth, barely moving his left hand and stopping as his body is hit by a new wave of unbearable pain. He still tries to focus, gasping several more times before opening his eyes again.
"Please, move it."
"What?"
"Hurts. Please."
Elliot arches a brow, confused. It takes a little longer for him to realize that Blaine's phone is vibrating in the pocket of his jeans, painfully jostling his leg. And only in this moment Elliot gives it a better look. How come he didn't notice this before? It's bent at an angle, it must be broken.
Touching a stranger's theigh is strange, but Elliot is too scared to notice what this contact does on his body as he finds the phone, pulling it out from Blaine's pocket.
"Better?"
"Dizzy. Wanna throw up."
And this is a huge problem. Blaine really can't move and of course Elliot can't let him choke on his own vomit. He stays silent, holding his own breath while Blaine tries to control his body.
When the phone starts to vibrate again Elliot looks on the screen, without even realizing that this means violating Blaine's privacy.
"Love is calling you."
"My boyfriend," Blaine manages to answer, his lips curving in the sweetest smile Elliot has ever seen, "Can you answer, please? Tell him 'm gonna be late?"
Elliot gives him a concerned look. Is he serious? A little late? He shrugs and answers, a little uncomfortable at the idea of telling an absolute stranger that his boyfriend is lying on the concrete, unable to move.
"Blaine! I know it's early, I just wanted to-"
"Ehm… Hi!" Elliot stops him, "I'm not Blaine, obiviously. Sorry."
The person on the other end of the phone remains silent for a moment and when he speaks again his tone is completely different. "Who are you?" and "Why in the hell do you have my boyfriend's cellphone?"
His voice reminds Elliot of someone, but to be honest he is too tired to try and remember who is this someone. It's quite irritating, by the way. Okay, maybe the truth is that Elliot is the irritated one and every voice would affect him the same way. It doesn't matter, he knows how hard this is going to be for this boyfriend, so he needs to be as gentle as he can.
"So, my name is Elliot Gilbert and-"
"Elliot? Starchild?" the voice stops him again and this time it seems more relaxed, "It's Kurt! What the hell are you doing with Blaine's phone? And why didn't you tell it sooner? No, wait! How did you even met him?"
Elliot's eyes grow wide as he focuses on the guy in front of him. So this is the famous Blaine Anderson. He couldn't have imagined to meet him this way.
Rachel and Santana did a great job trying to picture him. Curly and ruffled hair, sweet eyes, soft lips. He is smaller than Elliot expected him to be, but he is still so cute. Maybe even cuter. If the circumstances where different he would shake his hand, or hug him. He would even tell Kurt how lucky he has been to find someone as gorgeous as Blaine.
Damn, Ellio! You are talking about a guy who has just been hit by a car! And he is your friend's boyfriend.
"Elliot! So, can I talk to Blaine?"
Shit. He has to tell his friend that his boyfriend has been hit by a car. This is going to be absolutely horrible.
"Okay. Kurt? I need to tell you something. But please, please, don't be afraid of it, okay?"
"Elliot, you do realize that telling someone not to be afraid of something, just makes them afraid, right? Come on, hand the phone to Blaine."
"Yeah, well," he counts to three and then ends the sentence, "Blaine had an accident."
"An accident?"
Kurt's voice has probably broke his eardrum, but Elliot decides that it's better for him to smile at Blaine, who is tiredly looking up at him.
"How are you doing?" he asks with low voice. And seriously, where is the ambulance?
"Hurts."
"Hang tight, okay? Just a little more," Elliot replies, while Kurt keeps shouting at him.
"What does an accident mean? How is he? And especially where is he? Let me talk to him."
"Kurt, calm down. Come on!"
"I need to talk to him. right now. Elliot, I swear if you don't make me-"
Elliot shakes his head as he finally hears the sirens.
"Nope. Kurt, the ambulance is here, I have to-"
"Tell me where they are going to take him!" He yells before Elliot can have a chance to end the call, "Keep him company, please. And hug him for me. I'm coming."