When I unlock the door, it's not cold inside. I even notice that someone has tided the room up a little. I put my keys down on the tired table and walk through the hallway. I hear Blaine being sick, and Santana's soothing voice from the bathroom. I should go to see him but I just can't bear it. My scarf is cold and icy; the temperature hasn't reached above freezing in days. I swear the only warm thing in this house is Blaine's fever. It's getting colder, though, and I haven't got my pay check yet for heating. Cold. Cold gets into everything, like sand after a day to the beach. But after a full day working I take of my coat and gloves, and rub my arms for warmth.
Blaine's sick again as I boil the tea for us. Rachel should be home soon, with dinner. We'll make him eat some, because he's losing weight again. The snow is thick outside. I can see the slush on our basement flats window. Silver frost lines the edges and reminds me of an ice-skating rink. "Kurt? You there?" Santana calls me, and I carry the three mugs through the hall. Santana and Blaine are in our room. "He's fallen asleep again." I hand her the thick china mug, sitting cross legged on the bed. I stroke his hot forehead gently in a calming rhythm.
"Did he take any pills?" On a day like this, Blaine should be on at least four small, pink egg shaped pills.
"He said he did this morning. But he looked pretty rough."
"Yeah," I sigh. We sit in silence for a while and sip the bitter tea. I think about back at home, the tall oak trees and the thick winter fog. I always miss Dad and Carol. That's just a fact. I wish I was still at home, but I do love New York.
Blaine murmurs softly, wrapped in a warm blanket Carol made for him years ago. Back in high school Blaine would stay with my family sometimes. But she never minded, and always had a soft spot for him. "He's special, that one." she'd say. "Hold onto him, K."
After a while the door clicks and Rachel and Sam's laughter floats through. Santana rushes to tell them Blaine's sleeping. They whisper in the kitchen but I stay with him. I curl up next to him, with my head on his chest. And I think I fall asleep like that.
Honestly, I feel like a dead dog on Thursday and I can barely drag myself out of bed. So I don't. Santana probably left my pills so I put them on my tongue one by one and swallow then with cold water. I like cold water. It tastes like real water, not processed or cleansed, not full of random chemicals they leak into our atmosphere. I sit up slowly and my head is a hundred feet from the ground. A metallic taste fills my mouth as the room becomes a carousel, winding confusingly. After a few minutes I try to stand up. My hips nearly fail me but I grab the bed frame and grit my teeth. Stopping to hold onto something I start to move. It takes me a while but I shuffle to the living room and ease my weak legs onto the chair. I hate nearly being immobile but the sickness has eased off during the week. Monday I couldn't move, Tuesday I could barely keep water down and I didn't sleep Wednesday night. My muscles are swollen today.
The piano in our small apartment does take up a lot of space, but since Kurt let me use the hallway as a music room there's more space in the living room. I think he kinda feels guilty about what happened but it really wasn't his fault. He is just such a caring person… well; I fell in love with him, didn't I? I wish I could play the piano now but tiredness clouds my brain and my eyes shut sleepily.
I must have fallen asleep because I hear Santana come home around two. "Blaine? Are you awake?" I turn sleepily and my hips crack. "No don't move; I'm here." Santana's like my honorary mum. She rubs my back when I'm sick, listens to me rant school and teachers and stuff, helps me eat tiny amount of food and stays up with me when I can't sleep and Kurt is flat out. I'm really glad she decided to stay with us all. Well, decided to move in, barged in and just sat down, all the same thing.
She takes off her satchel and thick coat, hanging them on the wooden carved coat stand. "That woman will drive me insane." She sighs, running a hand through her dark hair. Her nose and ears are pink, with is unusual for Santana. Kurt will come home looking like a frozen mouse in a few hours. I smile at the thought. "She actually asked me to help her alphabetize her book case. Do I look like a librarian?" The old woman she cares for is quite demanding at times. But little pay is better than none, nevertheless.
"Actually, I can see it." She laughs and looks up to the ceiling.
"Yeah. When I was a little kid, I was always like 'When I grow up I'm going to be a princess! Or a librarian.'" She said sarcastically.
"Must have been a tough call deciding."
"No, becoming an old lady slave was my dream." Santana replied bitterly. "You ready?"
I shake my head and sit up, steadying my breathing. "I'm going to go with alone, but Sam said he'd drive me."
"Don't get your hopes up." She smiles worriedly and holds my elbow as I stand.
Blaine looks better when he wakes up on Friday and eats breakfast obligingly as Kurt and I fuss around him. "You sure?"
"Kurt, sweetie, do you not want me to go to the hospital or something?" Blaine raises an eyebrow and Kurt laughs.
"Blaine slept all afternoon and night yesterday so he'll be fine." I interrupt, though I'm not sure if it's such a good idea either. Kurt bite his lip anxiously, his arms crossed over a pale yellow designer jumper, a particular favourite of his boyfriends.
"You have all your hat and scarf stuff, right?"
"Guys, I'm not gonna just throw him on the street until he freezes!" Sam leans against the counter with Blaine's crutches.
"Well, his temperature has been high..."
"Oh my God, Rachel, not you too! I'm ok, I have my phone and I'll be with Sam." Blaine pulls on his thick hat and heaves himself onto his crutches.
"Yeah, we'll be in a freaking hospital." Sam opens the door and Blaine limps to the stairway. Kurt hugged him tightly and wrapped his arms around Blaine's fragile waist. "Love you." Blaine kissed him gently before carefully stepping down the stairs with Sam's help.
I get a text when they arrive at the hospital saying they got there say and everyone's ok. But I don't hear from them for the rest of the day.
Blaine opens the huge door and stands in the middle of the room. His head feels like a balloon, floating high above the sky, but being weighed down by a thick stone that tugs in his stomach. Rachel, Santana and Mercedes sit round the oval table, sipping drinks. They look up quickly as Blaine enters followed by Sam. His phone vibrates in his pocket, but Blaine ignores it and beams at the girls. "You look happy."
"Yeah, he seems good, but his phone kept going off in the car."
"Blaine, are you ok, sweetie?" Mercedes glances at Rachel, as Blaine's phone rings again.
"Yeah I'm really, really good." Blaine's face is strained and his hands fidget restlessly.
"Did you get good news?" Rachel asks, because Blaine is freaking them out a little. The apartments phone rings, and his eyes dart from Santana to the phone.
"Don't answer that. Please." Mercedes stands up but Santana is already standing by the phone. "No, please." Blaine pleads. His face looks scared and childlike.
"Sweetie, it's ok. It's just the phone." Santana reaches over to the ringing white phone and holds it to her ear.
"Hello? Yes, he's here." Blaine shrinks back and moves away from Mercedes as Santana nods. His face crumples and he rubs his palms over his eyes roughly. "Ok… I can tell him." She swallows and turns her back on Blaine, listening carefully. Santana hangs up the phone carefully. "Um, Blaine?" His knees fold underneath him and he falls to the floor, sobs tearing through him. Rachel runs to his side with Mercedes. His body shakes and he covers his face with his hands, wet tears on the floor. Santana kneels next to him and rubs his back, whilst Rachel and Mercedes sooth him from the other side anxiously. "You knew, didn't you?" He nods his head and bows his head further to the ground.
Kurt opens the door and his hand flies to his mouth. "Baby, what happened?" He rushes over to his boyfriends crumpled frame and wraps his arm around him. "Shhh, Shhh baby, it's ok, it's ok, I'm here." He looks up at Santana, his eyes full of tears.
"Well, the Doctor called… and well, um…" She closes her eyes briefly before continuing. "There was a mix up of test results and they told him the cancer was gone." Mercedes wipes her eyes and puts an arm around Kurt protectively. "But, he couldn't reach Blaine's mobile, so he rang here. Because they got it wrong."
"Oh, honey." Blaine starts to cry fresh tears, gulping for air.
"I knew… I just, um, I just knew it was wrong." He presses himself against Kurt, as he gasps for breath between sobs. "I just couldn't face it, you know? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Kurt."
"No, no, you don't need to be sorry, it's fine. We can fix this. We always have gotten through, we'll be ok. I love you, yeah, remember, sweetie, I really love you. I will always love you, ok? No matter what." Kurt closes his eyes and kisses Blaine's head protectively over and over to try and stop Blaine hurting. They stay huddled on the floor until Blaine's breathing slows and he falls asleep. Mercedes, Rachel and Santana leave them on them there, wrapping a large blanket over them as Kurt whispers sweet nothings to Blaine until the harsh morning sunlight floods in.