He couldn't bring himself to go into the hospital room for the first few days. He hated hospitals. The last time he had been in one, his dad had been in a coma. It's a good sign, right? Your dad was fine, and I'm sure he will be too. People often told him that, giving him a clap on the back and a sympathetic smile. Kurt would just glance at them and purse his lips. Hospitals were never a good sign. Often, he would just stand outside the room, looking in through the window, watching as the nurses and doctors bustled around Blaine, his boyfriend showing no sign of change or recovery. Kurt would reach out towards the door, but he couldn't bring himself to walk inside. It just reminded him too much of last time.
However, he was getting desperate. It had been three weeks since the attack, and Blaine hadn't shown any sign of change. Of course, that was good, as he hadn't declined, but bad, because he hadn't improved. Kurt braced himself outside the door, opening it up and walking in. The only sound was the beeping of Blaine's heart monitor, setting a steady, reliable rhythm in the room. Kurt couldn't help but smile. Blaine looked so…childish. His hair was a mess, curls across his face and forehead, and he had a ghost of a smile on his face, as if he were playing a joke on Kurt.
"It's not very funny," Kurt muttered, stepping towards the bed. He smoothed Blaine's hair out of his face, his hand resting on Blaine's cheek for a moment. "You always did hate when I saw your hair like this." He said softly, almost smiling. He sat down on the chair next to the bed, reaching out for Blaine's hand. Kurt bit his lip, trying to push away the waves of déjà vu.
"Hey, Blaine. I, um, had to come see you today. The doctors said you haven't been responding much, and they thought that if I came in to talk to you, you'd do something. So, here's hoping." He let out a nervous chuckle, and then caught himself. He wasn't supposed to laugh. "Okay. They said talking about something good usually helps, so I've been thinking about what to tell you for a long time now, and I think I finally decided on something. Do you remember the day when I took you to my mom's grave? I…I had never taken anyone there before. And I hadn't meant to take you there, but something in me just…wanted to. I wanted to share something special with you, Blaine, so I took you there. It was the only place I had ever opened up to anyone. It was my safe haven. Did you know that? I doubt it. I didn't tell you that. It was the one place I could go without having to worry about anything, and I had never told anyone about it because I was afraid if I did, it would ruin its safeness. And I was nervous, because taking someone to a grave is kind of weird, I guess, from an outsider's perspective, and you were really quiet, and I was terrified you were going to leave me. But you did just the opposite. You turned to me, and you looked me straight in the eyes, and you told me you loved me. You said, 'Kurt Hummel, I am in love with you.' And I blinked, and I hugged you, and I whispered that I loved you back. And you laughed. I love the sound of your laugh, Blaine. Not that laugh you do when you're being polite, but that laugh that means you're really happy. That laugh. And you hugged me back, and you kissed my forehead. That day is one of the happiest days of my life. It always cheers me up. Did you know, after you went home, I went back to my mom's grave? And I talked to her about you. I told her everything, Blaine, from the day we met to your favorite color. I poured my heart out to her about you. And the wind picked up a little, and it was warm, and somehow I knew that she approved of you. And it was in that moment that I knew that I didn't want to spend my life with anyone else but you." Kurt paused, taking a moment to compose himself.
"I just…I need you to wake up, Blaine. I really need you to wake up. I can't do this by myself anymore. I wake up in the mornings and you're not there, and it kills me, Blaine. I miss you, God, I miss you, I miss hearing you sing, and talk, and I miss hearing your laugh. You have to wake up. We have plans, remember? You promised you'd take me to see the sunset on that hill you're always talking about, remember? I need you to wake up. I need you. I love you, Blaine Anderson, and I need you to wake up, please." By now, Kurt was sobbing, but he didn't care. He wiped his eyes angrily, squeezing Blaine's hand.
"Please, Blaine. You can't leave me here alone by myself. I can't lose you, I can't. I want to marry you, Blaine, I want to buy a house with you, I want to look down at my hand and see a ring and know that I am yours forever, I want to adopt kids with you, I want to grow old with you, I want to sit on a porch in rocking chairs with you surrounded by grandkids saying 'no' and 'stop that'. I love you, Blaine, and I need you to wake up." Kurt pleaded, staring down at Blaine through the tears that were spilling from his eyes. Nothing. Not a stirring, not a blinking, nothing. Kurt felt another sob wrack his body, and he stood up, pulling his hand from Blaine's.
"I…I should go." He said softly, wiping his eyes again. He leaned down, pressing a kiss against Blaine's cheek. "I love you." He whispered, pulling away and straightening his jacket, turning away from the bed, walking towards the door.
"Kurt?" It was weak. It was soft. It was barely audible; it was a whisper, barely a breath of words. But it was him, it was his voice, it was loud and clear to the brunette boy who couldn't stop the grin that split across his face. Kurt barely had time to shout for a nurse before he whirled around, running to the side of the bed. Blaine stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open.
"I'm here, baby, I'm here." Kurt breathed, his hand brushing across Blaine's forehead. "I'm here."