Once upon a time, probably years ago now, I promised an LJ friend of mine I would write a Glee/ATWT crossover since I had given her the idea and that had resulted in several amazing fics. Originally posted in November 2011, this was the third or fourth attempt I made at writing a crossover.
I think the was not beta'd when I posted it and though I edited it before posting it here, it's still technically un-beta'd. I apologize for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes.
This is all my fault. It was stupid. I'm so sorry.
The words echoed in his mind as he sat staring at Kurt's unconscious form. This shouldn't have happened, they should have been more careful. It had been a spontaneous trip to Chicago and they were drunk on a freedom of being anywhere but Lima, of seeing each other after months of separation and the light at the end of the tunnel that was Blaine's graduation. They were too wrapped in each other to hear the approaching footsteps and the drunken, homophobic taunts as the group followed them to a deserted sidewalk. They thought it wouldn't happen here, because anywhere was better than Ohio, but they were wrong.
Now Kurt was lying in an unfamiliar bed in a hospital in some town that Blaine couldn't remember the name of because, surprisingly this place, not Chicago, had the best neurology wing and surgeon in the state. Blaine met the doctor but can't remember a thing about him, except for a flash of red hair, brusque tones and an awkward pat on the shoulder that was probably meant to be comforting.
This is all my fault.
And now Blaine was by himself, hand gripping Kurt's lifeless-no, just relaxed-hand as tears dripped down Blaine's face and every rattling gasp from the machine helping Kurt breathe set him more and more on edge. He was tired, he was frightened and he was so alone but his parents were God knows where and Burt and Carole were stuck in Ohio because they wanted to take a romantic Valentine's Day trip out of town and had been caught in a blizzard.
It was stupid.
The whoosh of displaced air made Blaine look up, blinking through the tears at the new arrival. He couldn't bring himself to return the smile the blonde man who had entered gave him as he walked closer to the bed. Blaine watched warily as the man who looked only slightly older than him took a few more steps into the hospital room and shoved his hands in his jean pockets. He wore a suit jacket over a crisp white shirt, the brightness of it blinding in the dim room.
"Who are you?" Blaine asked, his voice rough.
"Luke Snyder," the man answered quietly. "Reid told me you were by yourself and I thought I'd come in and check on you. How do you feel?" He added, gesturing to Blaine's forehead. The teen brushed his free hand over the butterfly bandage covering the large cut slicing diagonally across his eyebrow and his jaw tightened, aching where it bruised from a few well-placed punches when he tried to fight back against the men that had attacked them.
"I'm okay, not as bad as-" his hand tightened around Kurt's and his tears welled at the lack of response. He wiped them away quickly with his free hand, hissing as the rough touch brushed over his cut. "I still don't understand what you're doing here. Who's Reid?"
The other man, Luke, huffed a laugh. "Dr. Oliver, the surgeon who's taken Kurt's case? He and I…we're together," he paused as though he expected a reaction from Blaine. "Anyway, I heard neither of your parents weren't here yet and I figured you might need someone to look in on you."
"But…why?" Blaine's mind felt sluggish and Luke's words didn't seem to process. He just wanted Kurt to wake up, why wasn't anyone worried about it? Who cared if anyone came for him? Kurt was the one with the family, the one the world would miss without even knowing it and Blaine had torn that all away with one stupid whim.
I'm so sorry.
"I also run a foundation that aids several charities, including gay rights, and I want to you help you." Luke stepped closer, leaning over Kurt and making Blaine flinch. "I also have a fund for personal projects and I want to use that to help you and Kurt." Confusion must have crossed Blaine's features because Luke flashed a tight smile before drawing a chair up on the other side of Kurt's bed. The scraping of the feet on the linoleum sounded like the scuffle of feet on pavement that filled his ears when he had tried to keep the gang of men from beating Kurt to death. Blaine swallowed a sense of panic.
"Blaine…you were the victim of a hate crime," Luke's voice was soft and possibly mean to be comforting, except Blaine found it suffocating. "And you need justice. I want to help you find that."
Blaine didn't answer as memories of another attack, years earlier yet no less painful, flashed in his mind. Two boys were beaten in a hate crime last week…a blonde reporter's falsely sympathetic voice rang in Blaine's ears…waiting at after a local school's Sadie Hawkin's dance…one boy is in critical condition and not expected to survive…bile rose in the back of Blaine's throat; he couldn't have ruined Kurt's life, not like this, not after Blaine had promised to keep him safe. It was too much.
"Please leave," Blaine said abruptly and took no notice of the shock on the other man's face. "Unless you or your charity can do something to make Kurt better, leave me alone." He could not ignore the pity on the blonde's face as he stood.
"I'll be outside, I'll let you know when your family gets here," Luke said calmly. Another voice floated into the room as the door closed behind him, one made of clipped tones that Blaine vaguely remembered telling him about swelling in Kurt's brain and the urgency of surgery.
Silence smothered him and Blaine remembered the taste of copper in his mouth as watched helplessly four men crowd around Kurt, braving them all with a can of pepper spray.
This was my fault.
The punch to his temple had disoriented him and it had taken too long for Blaine to get back up.
It was stupid.
Kurt's blood shone brightly on the cracked sidewalk by the time Blaine had been able to get back up and pull the men off Kurt.
I'm so sorry.
The rhythmic mechanic breathing cut into Blaine's thoughts and he forced himself to focus. It wouldn't be like last time, it couldn't. He had to remain positive, he was always the positive one and he couldn't let Kurt down now. With a steadying breath Blaine straitened in the chair and clasped Kurt's clammy hand in his own.
"This was my fault," he repeated out loud, eyes roaming over the unresponsive form of his boyfriend. "It was stupid. I am so sorry."
I love you.
Please let me know what you think!