Bash – 5x15 spoiler reaction fic
Co-written with LaurenEP18.
Lauren, schatz, it was fun writing with you! We should definitely do this again! :)
SPOILER ALERT! This fic is based on the pictures of filming the episode 'Bash' 5x15. This is not based on any profound information concerning the upcoming episode.
Background information: Kurt and Blaine live together. Rachel has her own apartment at this point. Earlier this week the friends attended a vigil for a victim of a gay bashing. Kurt and Rachel met for dinner at a restaurant.
Rachel had just finished her nightly elaborate ritual when she walked over to her bed, wearing her most comfy pj's and brushing her hair, humming cheerfully. It had been such a nice dinner with Kurt. Gosh, she missed him since they weren't living together anymore. But she was happy for him to be living with his Prince Charming, Blaine. It was just when she'd snuck underneath her covers that her phone rang. It was almost midnight. Who would be calling this late? As she got her phone she noticed twenty-four missed calls. Twenty-four!
It was Blaine calling. With a frown and an uncertain drop of her stomach she answered. "Blaine? What's up?"
"I've tried to reach you for two hours!" Blaine sounded frantic. "Is Kurt still with you?"
"What? No, we parted at ten, he wanted to walk to the subway. Why? Isn't he home yet?"
"No, I've tried to call him, but he won't answer his phone," Blaine was close to tears. "Something must have happened."
Rachel knew instantly what Blaine was thinking. The memory of their vigil for Russ – the victim of the gay bashing last week – was still vivid in all of their minds. "I'm sure Kurt is fine," she tried to calm him down.
"Then where is he?" There was plain panic in Blaine's voice.
"Blaine, where are you?" Rachel asked, hearing street noises behind Blaine.
"I was at the restaurant," Blaine admitted. "I was worried and thought you two were still there and didn't hear your phones. Now I'm walking down the block, but there is no trace of him."
"Blaine, go home," Rachel instructed him. "I'm sure you've just missed each other. He probably came home the moment you left. Perhaps the battery on his phone is dead. I can totally imagine that now he's worried about where you are."
"You think?" Blaine sounded unsure, but hopeful.
"Yes, go home, Blaine. But take a cab, okay? And call me as soon as you get home and Kurt's there, alright?"
The moment Blaine opened the door he knew that Kurt wasn't home yet. It wasn't just the darkness that greeted him, but the absolute stillness of the apartment.
"Kurt?" his voice quivered, and he checked the bathroom and bedroom although he knew Kurt wasn't there.
With growing despair Blaine paced the living room, clutching his phone to his heart, praying that Kurt would call. He wouldn't even be mad at him if Kurt was to tell him that he had totally lost track of time because he met someone on the way. He just wanted this uncertainty to be over.
After considering his options, Blaine dialed a number that he didn't like calling at all. It wasn't that he hated Elliot. In fact, the second male singer of Kurt's band was a nice guy and they were on friendly terms with one another. But right from the start Blaine had always felt tense around him, maybe even threatened a little bit. He wasn't afraid that Kurt would go astray with Elliot, not at all. Still, Blaine didn't like the fact that there was another handsome gay guy with an amazing voice and talent around Kurt all of the time, and yes, maybe Blaine also disliked the fact that Elliot was taller than him.
He knew it would be silly to be jealous if it turned out that Kurt was with Elliot for whatever reason. All Blaine needed to know in this moment was that Kurt was safe.
"Hey…" came Elliot's baffled and somewhat suspicious voice. Clearly he had checked the caller ID and it was obvious to Elliot that Blaine wouldn't call him to chat. The guy was smart enough to have noticed Blaine's polite coldness towards him, Blaine hadn't actually been subtle about it. "A call in the midnight hour? What gives?"
"Hello Elliot," Blaine tried to sound casual. "I was just wondering if Kurt's with you?"
"No, should he be?" Elliot seemed genuinely confused. "We don't have band rehearsal tonight."
Blaine's shoulders sagged and he bit down on his lips, willing himself to breathe deeply, but his face crumbled in fear. Elliot had been his last hope.
"He didn't come home," he said in an almost-whisper, hugging himself.
"Whoa, what? Wait a sec, I'm still half asleep here," Elliot said, as if trying to shake himself awake enough to get a grip of the situation at hand. "Kurt mentioned seeing Rachel tonight."
"Yes, he did, but Rachel's already been home for over an hour."
"Oh, fuck," Elliot said, and just the way he said it Blaine knew that he was thinking about the gay bashing. It had been in all of their minds for the past week.
"Hey, don't worry," Elliot went on quickly in a voice that was too strained to pass off as casual, "you know how he is. Maybe he's got stuck window-shopping. He's all crazy about your wedding preparations. Just yesterday he saw this ridiculous big white hat and he was seriously considering buying it to wear it for your big day!"
"Yeah, he gets a bit carried away with it," Blaine admitted. "He's not even letting me choose my own suit, saying that he has a vision and he wants to tailor our suits by himself." Blaine rolled his eyes fondly. "He wants our day to be perfect, so he takes care of everything himself. But, well, anything as long as he's happy."
"Haha, yeah, he told me once that he has all these sketch books filled with doodles of planning outfits during class and that he used to dream about having a boyfriend whom he could dress up, too. I guess that'd be you."
"I don't mind," Blaine replied. "You know, it's actually very freeing not to worry about what to wear every morning if it's already laid out for you."
Elliott laughed loudly. "I'd like to talk to you about this again when you're married for over a year."
"Huh," Blaine said, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. Talking about their wedding plans only made him fear that there would be no wedding. He knew how devastated Rachel had been after Finn's unexpected death. What if...? No! Blaine shook his head, not allowing himself to even think about it.
"I gotta hang up," Blaine murmured. "In case Kurt calls me."
"Sure," Elliot replied. "Don't worry, man. I'm sure he'll turn up any minute. He may not look like it, but Kurt's a tough guy."
"I know," Blaine grunted. He hated it whenever Elliot told him something about Kurt, as if he didn't know his own fiancé.
After he'd hung up, Blaine stood in the middle of the living room, not knowing what to do next. The only option left was calling the hospitals in the area and Blaine didn't want to do that, because it felt like admitting that something bad had happened.
Please call me, Kurt, he whispered to his phone. Tell me you're okay!
As he stood motionless, it felt as if the walls came caving in on him. His home didn't feel like home when Kurt wasn't around. He knew he should just wait and distract himself, but he didn't want to sit down or turn on the TV.
Instead he just took in the sleepy silence of the building and dreaded the awakening.
An eerie calmness settled over him and he didn't dare move. Something had happened to Kurt, he just knew it. And it was out of his control.
It was in the middle of the night when the phone rang.
Burt groaned, he had just fallen asleep and had an early day tomorrow. His initial reaction was to set the phone on mute and ignore the rude caller. But then a small frightened voice inside of his heart whispered, Do you remember the night the call came in about Finn?
With sudden dread in his heart Burt switched on the nightstand lamp and reached for his phone. It was an unknown number from New York. Carole sat up beside him, the same dread on her face, the memory of Finn's loss still vivid. "Who is it?"
"I don't know," Burt said and answered the call. "Hello?"
"Hello, this is the St. Maryland hospital in New York. Am I speaking with Burt Hummel?"
"Yes." Unconsiously Burt reached out and grasped Carole's hand.
"Are you related to Kurt Hummel?"
"He's my son," Burt said in a weary voice.
"Your son has been admitted to us an hour ago with head injuries and two broken ribs. He's stable now, but we had to put him in an artificial coma."
"Oh, my God," Burt closed his eyes. "What happened? Did he have an accident?" Hundreds of scenarios crossed his mind, but he had to keep himself focused. He needed to find out what really happened to his boy.
"We don't know any details, I'm sorry," The nurse said, only amplifying Burt's concern, "We don't have any information on what caused the injuries. Do you have a pen by hand, sir? If you would like us to keep you updated on your son's condition, you can call the following number…"
"Carole, a pen! Something to write!" He gestured to her wildly.
Carole bent over the bed and rummaged in the drawer of her bedside table. "Got it!" She said as she wrote down the number and name of the hospital that Burt told her.
"I'm on my way. I'll take the next flight." Burt hung up and stood, swaying. "I need my pants and my passport, where's my wallet? I need to catch the next flight to New York!"
"Oh, honey, sit down!" Carole watched her husband circle himself. He was confused, not knowing which was the next step to take, as everything was crashing in on him at the same time.
"I need to get to my boy!" he yelled at her anxiously, "Why don't you help me find my goddamn pants, Carole? Kurt is... oh, my boy, my baby boy!"
With a strangled cry, Burt collapsed back onto the bed. Carole instantly wrapped her arms around him from behind and hugged him as he was shaken by silent, but violent sobs.
"He's going to be okay," Carole assured him, although she had no right to make promises. Tears were pooling in her own eyes as she squeezed her husband tight. "I'll come with you, honey. We'll go together."
She was rocking him back and forth for a while, both crying and huddling together.
"Why didn't Anderson call me?" Burt finally said, wiping tears off his face, and sounding angry. "You'd think he'd call me first thing! Instead I hear it from some nurse!"
Carole's eyes grew large with realization. "Perhaps he doesn't know it yet?" Of course the hospital staff would just call the next relative. How were they to know there was a fiancé waiting?
She got her phone, instantly pushing in Blaine's number, checking the clock while waiting for him to pick up. It was a quarter after midnight.
"Hello?" Blaine answered after the second ring, his voice was hoarse and wary, frightened almost.
"Honey, this is Carole," she said, still sitting on her bed while Burt finally found his pants and stepped into them. "Did you hear about Kurt?"
"Carole? Did Kurt call you? Where is he? I've tried to find him but..."
"Oh, honey," Carole said carefully. "The St. Maryland Hospital in New York just called us."
After a long pause, Blaine finally spoke, "What happened?"
"We don't know anything specific yet, just that Kurt has been admitted there an hour ago with head injury. It must have been an accident."
"Oh, God, oh, God, no, please, no," Blaine started saying over and over again. "No, this can't be happening."
"Blaine, honey, please stay calm, I'm sure Kurt is going to be fine," Carole said reassuringly. "We're taking the next flight to New York. We'll be there in a couple of hours."
"Which hospital did you say?" Blaine inquired. "I need to see him!"
Blaine entered the hospital with dread. Rachel had called him and he had told her where he was headed. But he couldn't wait for her. He had to see Kurt. He stepped up to the front desk.
"Hi, my name's Blaine Anderson, I'm here to see my fiancé. There must have been an accident and I just got the call and I came here instantly..." His voice was quivering and his hands trembling. He tucked his hands underneath his armpits to stop them from shaking.
The receptionist gave him a sympathetic smile. "I see. What's her name?" She turned to her computer to enter the name.
"Kurt Hummel," Blaine said, drumming his fingers on the counter top.
"Oh," she said, her eyes flicking up to him for a sec, before concentrating on her screen again.
"Hummel," Blaine repeated impatiently, because it took her forever to find him. "You know, like the little hummel figurines?" Blaine said, and then spelled it out for her, "H. U. Double M. E. L. We're going to get married. But we haven't decided on a name yet. He'll probably be Hummel-Anderson then. But we're not sure about the hyphen." Blaine knew he was rambling but he couldn't stop himself. He was too scared.
"I found him," the nurse said. "He's in intensive care now."
"Oh, God," Blaine couldn't breathe, he leaned heavily against the counter and all of a sudden he felt like he was all alone in the world. "I... I just got the call," Blaine said again, as if wanting to excuse being late. "He must have been here for two hours or something. Is he okay? Can I see him?"
"I'm afraid not," the nurse gave him another tight smile. "But I assure you his family has already been informed."
"Yes, I know, they're on their way, but they live in Ohio," Blaine explained. "Please, I need to see him, he needs to know that I'm here and that he's not alone..."
"I'm very sorry, but I can't let you see him," the nurse replied. "Family only."
"But I'm his fiancé," Blaine insisted, confused as to why she wouldn't let him see Kurt. "He needs to know I'm here. I don't want him to think that he's alone." He repeated.
"I'm afraid but Mr Hummel is in a coma," the nurse explained calmly. "He wouldn't even know if he had any company. Why don't you sit in the waiting area, please?"
"Could you at least please tell him that I'm here?"
"He's in a coma," the nurse repeated. "He won't hear me, or anyone."
"He would sense that I'm by his side," Blaine said. "If you'd let me hold his hand, he'd know I was with him."
Suddenly Rachel was next to him and Blaine felt immensely relieved that there was someone around who could help him bear the horror of this night. She joined Blaine at the counter.
"What happened to Kurt? How serious is it?"
"And who are you?" the nurse asked.
"I'm his best friend and former roommate," Rachel said. "We just had dinner together! What happened to him?"
"This is private information, family only," the nurse said stubbornly.
"But we are family!" Rachel yelled, frustrated. "We're family! Blaine is his fiancé!"
"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for you," the nurse said.
"Could you at least tell us how bad it is?" Rachel insisted.
"Were there more people hurt in the accident?" Blaine asked, suddenly realizing that if he couldn't get any information out of the nurse, he could be talking to the relatives of the other people who were hurt.
"I'm sorry, but we don't know anything about the circumstances of Mr Hummel's injuries," the nurse said. "The police are still investigating."
As if on cue, a police officer came over and motioned the two of them to a quiet corner.
"Do you know the victim, Mr. Kurt Hummel?"
"Yes, sir, I'm his fiancé, Blaine Anderson, and this is his best friend, Rachel Berry," Blaine introduced themselves.
"May I ask you questions about the incident? Have you witnessed anything?"
"Kurt and I had dinner at Roberto's tonight," Rachel informed. "We left at five after ten. I know because I checked my watch when I got into the cab. Kurt was heading to the subway station."
"You don't know who the attacker could have been?"
"Attacker?" Rachel blanched. "I thought it was an accident. I thought he was hit by a car or something."
"Regarding his injuries, Mr Hummel had been attacked. He was found by a passersby at 11:15 pm in an alley..."
"11:15?" Blaine repeated, feeling sick. "Are you saying he had been lying there for over an hour?"
"We don't know when the attack had taken place," the police officer allowed. "But if you say you last saw him at 10:05 and he was found in an alley just around the corner of Roberto's restaurant, then it's safe to assume the attack took place shortly after." The officer said, "We have reason to believe this attack is related to the hate crime against a gay individual not too long ago."
Blaine sat down on a chair, pale as a ghost and too weak to stand. To think that Kurt had been beaten up and lying in an alley for over an hour. It was too much to bear.
"Can we see him now?" Rachel asked.
It was seven in the morning when Burt and Carole finally entered the hospital. They were both weary and tired from the flight, but at the same time buzzing with panic.
They found Blaine sitting in the waiting area, slumped over, his face in his hands. Next to him sat a bleary-eyed Rachel who noticed them first.
"Burt! Carole!" Rachel stood and without hesitation, Carole hugged her tightly. It was obvious that both Rachel and Blaine were drained by sitting and waiting for seven hours in a row.
When Blaine looked up, his face was a sight of pure misery, making Burt dread what had happened while they had been in the air.
"How is Kurt?" Burt asked instantly. "Any news?"
Blaine shook his head and for an awful second Burt thought this meant that Kurt didn't make it.
"Nobody's telling us anything!" Rachel exclaimed. "We're not allowed to see him! They even asked us to leave!"
"I'm not leaving," Blaine uttered in a tired voice, sounding as if he'd said these words a hundred times tonight already.
"The police have been here, the hospital called them because it doesn't look like Kurt's been in an accident," Blaine said, his voice thick with emotion.
"The police officer said that Kurt's been attacked," Rachel said carefully, still standing close to Carole.
"Attacked? What are you talking about?" Burt took off his cap to rub his head.
"I'm so sorry," Rachel said, clearly feeling guilty. "I should have insisted that he took a cab home. Instead he walked and got mugged and..." Rachel couldn't finish her sentence.
"They say he's in intensive care, still unconscious," Blaine reported wearily.
"The police think it's another gay bashing because it was the same signature as the other one with Russ, you know, the boy that died last week," Rachel said quietly.
Carole let out a gasp and her hand grabbed Burt's arm. Burt's face turned to stone upon hearing this news.
Just then, a tall man in a white doctor's jacket walked out, pressing his oversized glasses up the bridge of his nose as he eyed the clipboard he was holding, "Family of Kurt Hummel?" He glanced around the room.
Blaine and Burt were the first to get to the older man, "Please, you have to let me see him. This is ridiculous! I'm his fiancé, damn it!" Blaine was done with being polite.
Burt placed a restraining hand on his shoulder, "I want to see my son, Doctor, and Blaine here is coming in with me." His voice had an edge to it, but he remained civil. Most likely trying to avoid getting kicked out of the hospital.
The doctor pursed his lips, glancing between the two men, "Yes, okay. But I can only allow two at a time. We can't crowd the room."
Burt turned around and shared a look with Carole, who nodded before asking Rachel to go with her to grab a cup of coffee.
Once Rachel and Carole walked away, the doctor gestured for them to follow him down the hall. Blaine followed close behind, his body was a buzzing bundle of nerves. What would Kurt look like? Would he know he was there?
Blaine looked over to Kurt's father. Burt kept his head high, face neutral, but Blaine could see past the façade. He could see how tense Burt was, his hands balled into fists at his side and his back ramrod straight. Hummel men thought that they could hide their emotions, but Blaine had the uncanny ability to see right through them.
Before he knew it, they were stopping outside one of the hospital rooms, "This is Kurt's room." The doctor said, pushing the door open a crack before leaving the two men standing outside Kurt's room.
Burt walked in without hesitation, walking straight to his son's side. Blaine felt as if his heart had lodged itself in his throat as he crossed the threshold.
Kurt was still. Too still.
His porcelain skin was marred with cuts and splotches of purple bruises. Blaine swallowed down the sick feeling of seeing his fiancé, lover, best friend… his everything lying broken in a hospital bed, wearing the dreadful generic gown that he knew Kurt would despise.
"Kurt." He whispered brokenly, taking a few staggering steps closer before falling into the chair beside the bed. "Please, baby." Blaine reached forward and took Kurt's cold hand in his, "I need you to wake up. I need you." He brought Kurt's hand up to his lips, pressing a firm kiss to the tender skin there, "Please." He pleaded, tears starting to stream from his eyes, blurring his vision.
Blaine let his head rest on Kurt's arm as his body was racked with sobs.
"Hey, buddy," Burt said, trying a cheerful tone that came out strangled. He stood at the other side of the bed, taking Kurt's hand into both of his own. "We're all here, kiddo, waiting for you to wake up."
When Burt looked at Kurt, all he saw was his little boy, and although seeing Kurt was what he had come for, he wasn't in the slightest prepared for it. He wanted to talk to his boy, wanted to hug him and tell him that everything would be alright, but he couldn't because Kurt was in a coma.
Right in this moment Burt felt so useless. He wasn't good at this, at standing by and not being able to do something about it, to take things into his own hands to make them better. It reminded him of the time when Kurt's mother had been in the hospital, all those months fighting and still losing in the end.
Burt needed to get out of here. He didn't want to admit it, but he was running. He couldn't take the sight of Kurt, so pale and beaten and motionless on the bed. He knew that if he stayed longer he would break down and cry, and he didn't want to do that in front of Blaine who in his eyes was still just a kid too.
Stay strong! Burt told himself. He shifted his focus on Blaine. He couldn't comfort his son, but he could take care of Blaine.
Blaine hardly registered the hand on his shoulder until Burt started to speak, "Come on, kid. He's…" Burt paused for a moment, collecting himself, before continuing, "He's not going to wake up right now. Let's go and update Carole and Rachel, then we'll get everything situated. Okay, Blaine?"
Reluctantly, Blaine nodded, wiping at his eyes as he stood. He stared longingly at Kurt, the pit in his stomach growing as he turned and followed Burt out of Kurt's room.
Please wake up soon.
Carole and Rachel were still sitting in the waiting room and talking quietly when Burt and Blaine returned. They looked up expectantly.
"He seems okay, as far as circumstances allow," Burt said, needing to be optimistic.
Carole and Rachel looked a tad relieved.
"I'm sorry, but I need to go home," Rachel said, as if not daring to speak up. "I don't want to leave you guys, but..."
"It's okay," Carole assured her and hugged her. "You've been here all night, get home and get some rest. As should you, Blaine."
"I'm not leaving." Blaine said stubbornly, already moving back towards where Kurt's room was located.
"Blaine, dear," Blaine turned to see Carole walk over. She placed her hands on his shoulders, "It's late, or rather early. We should all go and get some rest so we can be here for Kurt when he wakes up."
Blaine let out a resigned sigh, knowing she was right, but it was so hard to leave Kurt here by himself, "Okay." He agreed, glancing wistfully back in the direction of Kurt's room before being ushered out of the hospital by Carole and Burt.
Burt pulled out his cell phone as they walked to the curb to catch a cab, "I'm gonna try to book us a room somewhere." He said, "Got any suggestions, kid?" Burt asked, eyeing Blaine.
Blaine was caught off guard for a moment, "I just assumed you were both going to come back to the apartment."
Carole smiled warmly at him, wrapping an arm over his shoulder, "Of course. We just didn't want to impose."
Blaine shook his head, "No, of course you wouldn't be imposing. Kurt's been dying to have you both over to see how we've set up the apartment." His slight smile faded as he realized what he'd just said. He stumbled back a step, bracing his arm against a nearby bench as he felt sick, "Oh, god." He mumbled, sounding choked.
Carole came over to comfort him as Burt continued his efforts to hail a cab, resorting to yelling at each cab that drove past. Finally, a cab pulled over in front of Burt. He opened the back and signaled for Carole to help Blaine over. Using what little strength he had left, he lifted himself up and allowed Carole to help him over to the waiting yellow taxi.
Blaine mumbled the address to the driver before leaning heavily against the back seat next to Carole. Burt had taken the front seat to give them room.
The drive back to the apartment was tense. Even the taxi driver seemed a bit uncomfortable with the weight of the atmosphere that entered his cab. He seemed relieved when he finally pulled up to the destination. Blaine reached into his pocket to grab his wallet, which he noticed he didn't have. He must have forgotten it in his haste to find out what happened to Kurt…
Luckily, Burt paid the man without even asking and then they all got out of the car. Blaine pulled out his keys and led the way up the stairs to the apartment. When he opened the door, he was hit with a mixture of his and Kurt's scents, making his eyes water at the familiarity of it all.
"The place looks great, kid." Burt mentioned, moving further into the apartment and pulling in their bags that Blaine hadn't noticed they even had with them, "I'm guessing Kurt picked the color scheme?" He questioned, looking over the pale tones of the room.
Blaine nodded, "I helped, a bit. But he's the best at all of this, so I let him take the design reign." He chuckled a bit, remembering how he and Kurt had dressed in old clothes and painted the apartment. Of course it had ended in a paint fight, prompted by Blaine. He smiled fondly at the memory of Kurt looking so carefree, splattered with specks of blue paint on his pink tinted cheeks.
Blaine ran a hand through his hair, which at that point had broken free from his gel before he went to go and set up the bed. He took off the sheets, which had the same strong scent of Kurt on them and brought them over to the sofa where he fitted them into the creases. He then made the bed with fresh sheets and two extra pillows, so he could use the ones they already had on the bed.
"Blaine, you don't have to give us your bed." Carole seemed to have just noticed Blaine setting everything up. She and Burt had been deep in conversation in the kitchen, so they didn't see what Blaine was doing.
"It's fine Carole." He said, placing the pillow Kurt used at the end of the sofa, "We don't have an extra bed anyway, so it would be easier if I slept on the couch so you two could have a place to sleep. I changed the sheets already."
"Thank you, that's very thoughtful of you," Carole smiled and patted his arm. "Now, come and sit with us. I've raided your kitchen and made some pancakes. I guess we all haven't eaten anything."
Blaine followed her into the kitchen, but as soon as he sat down at the table he realized that he couldn't eat. His stomach was cramping and he felt like he was going to be sick. "I'm sorry, Carole, but I'm not hungry."
"You should eat a little bit, honey," Carole eyed him worriedly.
"No, really, I can't eat anything. I'm sorry. Maybe later."
Burt didn't look like he had much of an appetite, either. He was chewing slowly while studying the pin board that was hung in eyelevel next to the table. All of the flyers of the last few gig's of Kurt's band were pinned to it, as well as the new one announcing that Pamela Lansbury would play this Friday.
"I'm really glad you came," Blaine said, although truthfully right now, he just wanted to crawl underneath his blanket and vanish from this cruel world, but he was too polite than to just leave his guests to themselves. "Kurt's going to be so thrilled to see you guys."
"Oh, no," Burt let out a chuckle. "He's gonna be like, I'm fine, no need for you to come all this way just to stand by my bedside."
Burt and Carole shared an affectionate gaze. It was a look that said they'd climb the highest mountains and swim the deepest seas just to be with their kid. It was a look that said they wished they had had a chance to be with Finn in those last precious moments. If Kurt would be leaving them, too, at least they'd wanted a chance to say goodbye.
Blaine shook himself out of these dark thoughts. There was no need to say goodbye; they would never have to say goodbye!
"If you don't mind, I'm going to try to sleep."
"That's a good idea," Carole said. "We're going to lay down for a few hours, too."
Blaine went back to the living room and pulled the curtains shut, before he walked over to the sofa. Carole came over and gave him a kiss on his cheek, "Everything's going to be fine." She assured him before she pulled one of the bags back to the bedroom area.
Burt nodded in his direction, "Sleep tight, Blaine."
"You too, Burt." He replied, though he didn't really think he'd be getting too much sleep.
Burt started to walk back to where Carole was waiting when he stopped cold and turned around. Blaine raised an eyebrow, about to ask if something was wrong when he was pulled into a tight hug. Confusion was replaced with understanding when he realized why Burt felt the need to hug him. He remembered Kurt telling him about his father's heart felt speech whilst they cleared out Finn's room, about how Burt wished he'd hugged Finn more often. Blaine supposed he was implementing that now and he would no doubt do the same to Kurt once he woke up.
After a moment, Burt let go with a sniff before nudging his shoulder with his fist as if trying to regain his nonchalance, "Yeah, so… Sleep well, Blaine." He said awkwardly before turning and going over to the bed.
Blaine laid back onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. When the light was cut out and the room was drenched in darkness, Blaine allowed some tears to finally fall. He tried to keep quiet as he bundled himself up in the sheets, enrobing himself in the smell of his fiancé. Having the scent all around him, made it feel almost as if Kurt was really there with him.
But Kurt wasn't and Blaine couldn't stop the worst-case scenarios from infiltratinghis head and weighing down on his heart. He tried to force the images out of his mind, but he kept seeing Kurt laying at the curb of a back street for over an hour, bleeding and hurting, with every precious minute ticking away the possibility of full recovery. Blaine knew how defining the time factor was concerning head injuries.
He pressed his face into the pillow and tried to choke down the sobs that escaped his throat. What if Kurt's condition made a turn to the worse? What if...?
"Blaine, sweetie..." a soft voice spoke beside him and Blaine jerked around, staring at Carole with tear-filled eyes, only making out her silhouette in the dimness of the room.
Carole sat down on the edge of the couch and held out her arms for him. Blaine dove into the embrace, needing the comfort more than anything, and Carole let him cry on her shoulder. She rocked him gently while rubbing soothing circles into his back.
Blaine wrapped his arms around her and held on tight, soaking up her warmth and calming presence. "I can't live without him," he told her in a tearful voice. "I just can't. I need him more than anything."
"That's alright, sweetie, because he'll be home soon, and he loves you just as much," Carole promised and gently wiped the tears off his face, and Blaine closed his eyes and just leaned into her. Somehow Blaine believed her, because she wouldn't give him false hope, would she? She had lost her first husband and her son, she knew the kind of heartbreak that only losing the people you couldn't live without would bring. Anyhow, he felt much lighter and more hopeful when she told him that everything would be alright again.
"Think about what you will do for him when he gets out of the hospital," Carole suggested, "A welcome home dinner maybe, or a bunch of roses, I'm sure he'd like that."
Blaine nodded into her shoulder and sniffed. Out of nowhere she produced a tissue for him and he dabbed his eyes and nose with it.
He didn't want to let go of her motherly embrace, but he knew that he should stop clinging to her and not take advantage of her friendliness. But when he slowly tried to back away she tightened her grip on him and he gladly sunk back into her arms for just a while longer. He realized that she probably loved getting a chance at being a mother again and she needed to hold him – hold somebody – just as much as he needed her embrace.
Soon his head was filled with red roses and soft cashmere scarves – he planned on buying that outrageously expensive scarf Kurt had been gushing about for the past few weeks – and finally fell asleep without noticing how Carole tucked him in and kissed his head.
Burt awoke to the sound of traffic outside which was weird, because their house was in a quiet neighborhood. Yawning, he stretched and reached out for his nightstand drawer where he kept a package of chewing gum. He liked to chew some in the morning, so Carole would allow him to kiss her before having to get up and brush his teeth. And morning cuddles and kisses were the best way to start a day.
However, as his hand moved around blindly in the drawer it didn't find gum, but some other strange unfamiliar things. Confused, Burt blinked and rubbed his eyes, then leaned over the side of the bed to inspect whatever had found its way into his drawer. There were condoms, of course, a bottle of lube, a dildo? Holy Heavens, when did Carole get herself a dildo?
As Burt blinked around the room, the fog clouding his sleepy mind finally lifted and with an embarrassed gasp he quickly shut the drawer. Oh geez, he was in New York, and currently sleeping in his son's bed, the very bed his son shared with his fiancé.
With a groan Burt covered his face with his hands and tried to shake off images. There was only so much a parent wanted to know about their kid's personal life. He remembered the time he had to sit through Brokeback Mountain and later on Kurt had asked him to educate himself about gay sex. Good times.
"Are you up, love?" Carole voice came from the door. It was only then Burt noticed that she wasn't lying next to him.
Carole hurried over to sit by his side. She pressed a kiss to his biceps and stroked the back of his head. "Burt, it's already in the afternoon; we've slept all day. Blaine's anxious to go back to the hospital. Are you feeling up to it?"
Without warning Burt drew her into his arms until she fell on top of him. He squeezed her tight, because he needed to hold her as all the memories came rushing over him. The awful phone call in the middle of the night, rushing to the airport to get a head over heels flight to New York, finally seeing Kurt in the sickbed.
After all that Kurt had endured growing up in Ohio, nothing had ever been this scary. Burt would never have imagined that anything like this would happen to Kurt in New York. Yet here they were, this was reality and Burt hated every second of it. He hoped with all his heart that Kurt would recover completely and not carry a scar with him. Burt didn't want this to shatter his boy, to crush all the confidence he'd built up over the years and lose faith in human kindness. He wanted for Kurt to come out of this stronger.
"Yes," he croaxed, then cleared his throat and spoke again. "Yes, let's go and see him."
Burt went into the bathroom and quickly washed up. He thought about shaving for a second, but decided against it. A little stubble never hurt.
When he brushed his teeth, Carole wrapped her arms around him from behind and rested her chin on his shoulder. He met her eyes in the mirror and she gave him a tight smile. We're in this together.
Burt was relieved to see Blaine was quite put together. The boy was perfectly shaved, had gelled his hair and wore a sweater vest and a button-down with no button left undone. He looked like he was about to go on a date, and he probably wanted to look his best for Kurt in case his fiancé was going to wake up.
Still, Burt intended to keep an eye on Blaine. Burt wouldn't let appearances fool him, he knew that inside, Blaine was just as fragile and despaired like he had been this morning. God, was it really still the same day?
This time Carole was allowed inside the sickroom, too. The moment the three of them entered the room, Blaine started chatting cheerfully to his unconscious fiancé. It was as if he tried making up for his meltdown the first time, there were no more tears and just positive talk. Blaine seemed determined to stay composed and optimistic for their second visit in the hospital.
"Hello, love," Blaine bend over the bed to press a kiss to Kurt's cheek. "I brought you spare clothes that you can wear when you leave the hospital. You're going to be the best dressed patient that ever left this building, I promise." He put the small travel bag on a chair and turned to inspect Kurt's clothes, which the hospital staff had arranged on hangers inside a small locker. Especially the coat and trousers have been battered from lying in the dirty street. Blaine swallowed hard before putting on a fake cheerful voice, "Don't worry about these, babe, I'll bring them to the dry cleaner's. Your coat's going to be as good as new."
He kept talking and when he ran out of things to say, he started singing softly to Kurt, some silly love song. But Burt didn't mind, because it was nice, and it made Carole smile.
Burt was glad to see that Blaine wasn't as distraught as he had been before, but Burt also wasn't to be fooled. He noticed the tense way Blaine's shoulders were set and how tight he clutched Kurt's hand as if afraid to ever let go. Blaine was still scared as hell.
Burt could relate. He tried his best not to show it in front of Carole and Blaine, but he was close to freaking out, too. He hated hospitals and the way the clinical atmosphere made him feel small and useless. Seeing Kurt lying motionless in the white bedding made him want to grasp his boy by the shoulders and shake him and yell at him, Wake up, Kurt, wake up! This isn't funny! I need you to wake up and talk to me, kiddo!
It was horrible, unbearable even, the things that went through one's head when someone you loved – your own son – was lying in hospital after having experienced a brutal attack. A hate crime in New York! As much as Burt had hated seeing his son leave Lima, he had been relieved knowing that in New York, Kurt was able to live a life without the constant abuse of homophobes. Knowing that his son had been attacked in a city where he was supposed to be safe, it just felt like betrayal.
Burt rubbed his hand over his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. He knew if he let these thoughts get to him it would tear him apart. But those cruel scary images kept creeping back into his mind... what if? What if he had to learn to live in a world that had taken his son away from him? Each time the question infiltrated his mind, Burt clenched his fists and bit down on his lips, trying to force it back. Kurt was alive. He would be okay. It didn't help to delve in negative thinking.
If it hadn't been for Carole and Blaine, Burt knew he'd be devastated by now. He put up a strong and confident front for them. Carole had lost her own son, she felt for Kurt as if he was her second son. And Blaine was still so young. What would it do to this boy to lose Kurt? Burt remembered Blaine's sweet words about how Kurt was his soulmate and how he wanted to marry him.
Burt watched as Blaine leaned over the bed to hug the still form of his significant other and kiss his face. When Blaine thought they weren't looking he even kissed Kurt on the mouth, lingering for a moment as if hoping to be able to wake Kurt, like Prince Charming did with Sleeping Beauty.
But they had no such luck.
Sometime during their visit the doctor came by and requested to talk to Burt to give him an update. Instantly, Blaine was upright, his eyes big and fearful.
"Go on," Burt told the doctor. "My wife and my son's partner can hear this, too."
The doctor had positive news. It was something about the swelling going down and the concussion being less dramatic than it had first looked like, and about how they wanted to keep Kurt comatose and under observation for one more night and wake him the next day.
"And that's good, right?" Burt asked just to make sure.
"Yes," the doctor confirmed. "We're expecting a full recovery."
Burt let out a breath, and then wiped a hand first across his face, and then across the top of his bald head. Carole hugged him and pecked his lips and he hugged her back tightly.
Blaine still looked wary. He would just believe that Kurt was okay when he was finally able to talk to him.
Time flew by and after almost three hours the nurse asked them to leave.
Blaine took his own scarf and put it down on the pillow next to Kurt's head. "Do you think the nurse will mind this?" he asked Carole. "I'd like to think that Kurt feels safer when he smells me. I know I did when I slept on the pillow he used."
"That's a wonderful idea," Carole said, patting Blaine's arm.
"You go ahead," Burt told them. "I need one more minute."
Reluctantly, Blaine let go of Kurt's hand.
Burt exchanged a look with Carole and knew that she had it covered. She gently took Blaine by the arm and asked him to join her for a coffee in the cafeteria.
Burt stood close by Kurt's side and stroked his big hand down his son's paleface. "I love you, Kurt," he said loudly, then cleared his throat because there was a lump forming. "Get some more rest, kiddo, and we'll talk tomorrow, alright? Don't worry, you'll be fine, and we're all here for you."
He bent down and kissed Kurt's forehead, and for a moment, just a moment, he allowed himself to break down. He buried his face into the crook of Kurt's neck and fisted his hands into the sheets.
"I need you to come back to us, you hear me?" Burt murmured, with his voice caught in his throat. "And I need you to be okay, oh, God, please, let him be okay," Burt begged, because a head injury was a scary thing. Burt didn't know how his brave son had endured the week when Burt had been in a coma, because this sitting around and waiting and hoping was horrifying, "You will be okay, Kurt, I know it."
They didn't head home right away, but went to the mall for some much needed distraction, and also to bring Kurt's clothes to the dry cleaners. While Carole and Burt walked the aisles of a drugstore to buy shampoo and stuff they forgot to pack, Blaine vanished for about twenty minutes and returned with a big and long gift box in expensive looking wrapping.
"Just a little something for Kurt," he said with a shrug.
Blaine was glad that he didn't have to return home by himself that evening, but to have Carole and Burt with him. Carole reminded him to call in sick at college for the next day. First, she tried to convince him to go, but he couldn't act like his everyday life went on while Kurt was in the hospital.
Carole suggested cooking dinner but they had forgotten to buy groceries. Burt just said he was fine with ordering pizza, when the door bell rang.
"Are you expecting someone?" Carole asked.
Blaine shook his head. "It's probably Rachel."
Blaine was surprised when he opened the door and found himself face to face with Elliott. Or rather face to chest, because, boy, the guy was freakishly tall. Blaine would never admit it aloud but it was one of the reasons why he was guardedaround Elliott.
"Hey," Elliott said in a soft voice, his striking blue eyes set attentively on Blaine. "I hope you don't mind me coming over unannounced? Rachel just told me about Kurt and I thought you might need a little company?"
"Come in," Blaine said and motioned for him to enter. He wasn't keen on entertaining a guest, but he wasn't going to send Kurt's friend away. It was actually really sweet of Elliott to come over and offer to keep him company.
To Blaine's utter surprise, Elliott hugged him for the first time since they knew one another, and Blaine let it happen, too vulnerable and scared to blow off a free hug.
"How's Kurt?" Elliott asked in almost a whisper as if Kurt was sleeping next door. How Blaine wished that were true. He'd love to have Kurt home.
"He's still in the hospital and unconscious," Blaine replied with a heavy sigh. "But the doctors are optimistic that he'll wake up soon and that he'll be fine, although with a head injury you never know for sure."
"And how are you holding up?" Elliott asked, his eyes filled with worry and he looked around the place. "Are you by yourself?"
"No, Kurt's parents are here." Blaine motioned for him to follow him to the kitchen where Burt and Carole were reading the menu of a pizza place.
"Hi, I'm Elliott Gilbert," he stuck out his hand. "I'm in Kurt's band."
"Nice to finally meet you," Burt said, shaking the man's hand. "Kurt told us about you. He's glad to have you."
Carole seemed instantly smitten by Elliott and his dark stubble and charming smile.
"We want to order pizza," Burt said. "You want something?"
"Actually, I thought I'd cook you guys some delicious curry!" Elliot offered, smiling broadly. "I brought everything!" He held up a bag with groceries and Carole was delighted.
"Oh, let's cook together."
Blaine had to admit that Elliott did a great job at distracting all of them. If it was just him and Kurt's parents, they would probably just sit and mull things over. With Elliott around the atmosphere was lighter and daresay almost cheerful.
"Come and join us watching a game," Burt invited Elliott. "There's nothing better to clear your head than watching football, right?"
"Err, I prefer stitching," Elliott said with an apologetic shrug. "If I want to clear my head I work on my stage outfits."
"Oh," Burt said, apparently realizing that he had the wrong audience for him to talk about football.
"By the way, I cancelled Pamela Lansbury's gig on Friday," Elliott told Blaine. "The girls were discussing doing the show without Kurt, you know, the show must go on and such, but I told them that we're a band and not a Broadway musical group, and a band can't go on without their front man, right? And I don't think Kurt'll be fit again by then."
"That's very considerateof you," Blaine admitted.
"By the way, Rachel says hello to all of you and that she's sorry that she can't come and see you guys again, but seeing you makes her think of someone called Finn. I asked her who that is but she got pretty weird and wouldn't tell me."
"Let's not talk about that right now," Blaine gestured for Elliott to change the topic. "I hope Rachel's not alone tonight," he worried.
"No, she said she had a friend over, a girl with a name like a car. I forgot which one, though..."
"Mercedes!" Blaine said. "Right, Kurt said that she was coming, but I forgot."
They enjoyed the curry in front of the TV, watching the game after all. But it was mostly Blaine and Burt watching, and Carole and Elliott discussing recipes.
Later that night Elliott and Blaine climbed out of the window to sit on the fire escape, and Blaine told Elliott about Finn, who had been Carole's son, Kurt's brother and Rachel's fiancé. Elliott expressed his sorrow and his distress about someone dying this young. He also comforted Blaine by saying that Kurt would be fine, because it would take a lot more than a few random assholes on the street to get Kurt Hummel down.
"This is nice," Blaine suddenly said. "Talking, I mean. We've never really, you know, talked," he shrugged.
Elliott tilted his head and gave Blaine a look that said, really? You're only noticing that now? "It's okay, we don't have to make this a habit. I know that you don't like me," Elliott said with a light chuckle.
"It's not that I don't like you," Blaine hurried to say, "it's just..." he paused, because he didn't know how to phrase his feelings.
"You're jealous," Elliott said straightforward with that grin of his.
Blaine narrowed his eyes at him. "What would I be jealous of?"
"You're jealous, because you don't get to sing with Kurt," Elliott said as if it was the simpliest thing in the world. "He didn't ask you to join his band and you wonder why. But hey, you gotta understand, man, this is his thing. It's like, yes, he loves you, but he doesn't want to work with you, because he wants you to be in the audience and cheer him on."
This actually made Blaine smile. "I never thought about it this way."
Elliott got up and patted Blaine's shoulder. "I have to go. Tell Kurt that he'd better get well soon, because Pamela Lansbury needs him."
"Thanks, I will." Blaine saw him to the door and thanked him again for visiting.
Then he joined Carole in the kitchen where she was doing the dishes and helped her, keeping up a light chatter. After the work was done, Carole put her arm around his shoulders and pulled him in for a hug, wordlessly, and Blaine closed his eyes and returned it. For a moment they just stood in the middle of the kitchen like that.
Then Blaine heard Burt's heavy steps approaching and he knew he should let go, because it was kind of embarrassing and he wasn't a small child anymore, but as long as Carole didn't break the hug, Blaine was reluctant to, so he pretended he didn't hear Burt. To Blaine's utter surprise he suddenly felt another strong arm around his back, keeping them glued together. It was Burt, embracing them both.
A family hug, Blaine realized and it almost made him cry.
"I love you, guys," Burt murmured and tightened his grip on them.
The next day they were sitting around Kurt's bed for two hours and he didn't wake.
Blaine grew anxious and paced the room. "I'm going to the kiosk for a bottle of water. Do you want something?" Blaine offered.
"Would you bring me some water, too, please?" Carole asked and Blaine nodded. "I'll be back in a minute."
Burt was sitting to Kurt's left side, holding his son's hand when suddenly Kurt stirred. "Kurt?" Burt asked, and shared an excited gaze with his wife. "Kurt, we're all here, buddy. Do you hear me? Are you alright?"
There was this scary moment when everybody held their breath and waited for Kurt to say something.
"Dad," Kurt said, his voice gravely and low from the lack of use. He blinked and opened his eyes slowly, as if his eye lids were too heavy to move.
"Hey, kiddo," Burt said, sniffing and blinking away tears. "Good to have you back, buddy!"
"Carole," Kurt said with a smile, but his eyes went further through the room, looking for someone.
"Blaine's here, too," Burt hurried to say. "He's just getting some water, he'll be back in a second."
Carole caressed Kurt's face with a soft hand. "How are you feeling, sweetie?"
"Tired," Kurt answered after a moment of consideration. "And thirsty."
The door opened and Blaine came in, his worriedface lit up the second he realized Kurt was awake.
"Kurt!" he came rushing over and Carole quickly stepped aside to make room for Blaine.
"There you are," Kurt murmured and lifted his hand towards Blaine.
Blaine instantly grabbed Kurt's hand and bend over him. "Kurt, you're awake, oh thank God, you're awake!"
"Hi," Kurt smiled at him tenderly and it was a smile that left no doubt about how much Kurt loved him. "You okay?"
"Me?" Blaine asked, baffledby the question. Then he let out a relieved laugh. "Yes! Yes, I'm okay now that you're awake! But how are you, honey?"
Kurt slowly raised his free hand to touch the bandage around his head, "What happened to me?"
"We were hoping you could tell us, honey," Carole said softly.
Kurt's brow furrowed as he tried to remember exactly what had happened. He knew he was in a hospital, that much was obvious, but everything leading to him getting there was foggy in his medicine-addled mind.
He looked away from Blaine, staring at his hands, knuckles covered in abrasions. Small flashes punctured through the shield his mind had put up to protect himself from the memories, but Kurt was determined to find out what had happened.
As the heart rate monitor beside him began to pick up pace, the tense voices around him became louder with concern, but he couldn't hear what they were saying. The only thing tethering him to the world around him was a familiar hand in his. The moment that anchor was ripped out of his grasp and lights were being shined in his eyes, gloved hands poking and prodding him… that was the moment he was plunged into darkness once again. Except this time, he was caught up in recollections of what had happened to him.
It was as if he were hovering over himself. He watched from above as he walked down the street after having dinner with Rachel. It was dark, not too many people walking the streets this late at night. That is when he heard the distinct sound of fists hitting flesh. He knew this sound all too well after dealing with the homophobic students in high school. Kurt heard a gay slur being snarled at the man in the alley and he watched as his figment self snapped his head around. He ran into the alley, yelling at the top of his lungs to try to scare the guy off, but it didn't work. Instead, the man turned his rage on Kurt.
He tried to fight back, but it was no use. The other guy overpowered him, throwing him into the wall. The last thing he saw was a brick coming towards his face and then darkness once again enveloped him.
It felt strange waking up again. He couldn't be sure how long he was out, but he registered a distinct tenseness to the atmosphere he woke into. It was dark outside the windows and he could see his parents huddled in the corner of the room in a large chair, their faces worried even in sleep.
He moved his arm slightly, feeling something brush against him. Ignoring the ache in his head, he lowered his eyes to see a head full of raven curls resting on the side of the cot. Kurt smiled fondly at Blaine, moving his hand to run his fingers through his dark hair. Blaine stirred, mumbling Kurt's name. Finally, his head raised and he was met with those stunning honey eyes, "Blaine." Kurt breathed, his throat thick with emotion as he noted the dark circles under his eyes and his overall tired appearance.
"Kurt. Oh, God, I'm so glad you're awake. I thought-" Blaine started to get overwhelmed, so Kurt placed a gentle hand on Blaine's mouth, to which Blaine kissed his palm.
"You look tired." Kurt said, "There's room for one more in here."
Blaine understood what Kurt was getting at and quickly took advantage of the opportunity. He carefully got onto the bed, making sure to not jostle Kurt too much. After getting himself settled next to Kurt, his entire body relaxed. Before he knew it, he was sound asleep, feeling better than he had in days.
Kurt could tell from the way his father was gritting his teeth that he was holding back an outburst.
The police officer had just left the sickroom and Carole and Blaine were fluttering about, collecting Kurt's clothes to get him up and dressed, finally leaving the hospital. Kurt sat at the edge of his sickbed and watched his father grind his teeth.
"What is it, dad?"
Burt began pacing, his face coloring, "Do you have any idea how dumb it was for you to go off and... what, sacrifice yourself for some kid you don't even know?" He exclaimed, finally coming to a halt in front of Kurt.
"Burt-" Carole tried to soothe him, but it was no use.
All Burt could think about was the fact that his boy could have been killed because he decided to act recklessly.
"I couldn't just let them beat him up," Kurt said, shaking his head. "This world is so messed up because everybody just walks by when things like that happen."
"You could have called the police," Blaine said meekly, and therefore agreeing with Burt.
"It would have been too late by then," Kurt defended his decision.
"Well, that kid got away, just ran off apparently without looking back for you!" Burt hollered. "And you almost died!"
Kurt tried to banish the tears that were filling his eyes. He knew he'd acted without really thinking of the consequences, but he couldn't just walk by like everyone else... Like they had done to him in high school.
"I know you're mad at me-" Kurt started, trying to keep his voice from wavering, "and you have every right to be. But what's done is done. I don't regret what I did."
Blaine laid a hand on his shoulder, clearly sensing his distress.
"What about us?" Burt questioned, knowing he was pushing it, but he was just so scared still, "Do you know what you put us through? Getting another call in the middle of the night?"
Kurt knew what he was implying. He'd heard about how the hospital had called in the middle of the night about Finn, "I'm sorry." He said, looking down.
Blaine decided to step in then, "Maybe you two should go back to the apartment and wait for us to get back. I'll be fine getting him home." He handed Burt a spare key and sent Carole a pleading look, hoping she'd help him out.
"We'll meet you there." She said, nodding in Blaine's direction.
Burt instantly regretted yelling at Kurt. He knew he'd been too harsh but the fear and uncertainty of the past couple of days was taking its toll on him. "I'm not saying that I don't want you to help people in need," Burt said, as Carole was leading him towards the door, "but you don't have to be the hero, Kurt."
Kurt didn't say anything as his father was lead out of the room by Carole who sent him an apologetic look.
"Don't be mad at him. He's just..." Blaine trailed off, no words coming to mind.
"I get it. He's a papa bear trying to protect his cub." Kurt half smiled, "I'm not mad."
Blaine smiled and gave him a peck on his lips, "Let's get you ready to go home."
Kurt let out a sigh of relief. Home.
Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck and drew him near, resting his head on Blaine's shoulder for a moment.
"Are you okay?" Blaine asked, concerned, but Kurt's fingers started caressing the curls at the nape of Blaine's neck to indicate that he was just being snuggly, not exhausted.
"I wasn't running into that alley to be a hero," he murmured.
Blaine nodded, not in understanding, but to urge Kurt to continue. He waited, but apparently Kurt wasn't going to elaborate and Blaine certainly didn't want to push him.
Eventually, Blaine untangled himself from Kurt's arms and presented the clothes he'd brought. Kurt smiled his approval and allowed his fiancé to help him get dressed. He wasn't happy about the stubble on his face, though, and the ugly cuts on his cheek and lip.
"God, I missed out on my skin care regiment for how many nights?"
"Too long," Blaine said, but he wasn't talking about Kurt's skin, but the lonely nights he'd had to spend on the couch.
"I'm just glad the kid got away," Kurt picked up the trail of their conversation yet again. "I don't expect him to say thanks, I just couldn't let it happen."
Blaine returned his searching gaze, his silent plea for understanding and agreement. But Blaine couldn't give it. Because he hated that kid whose life Kurt probably had saved but who ran without a glance back, who let Kurt get beaten up in his stead, who didn't call the police and an ambulance. That kid who let his savoir lay in an alley for over an hour for someone to stumble over him by chance. In his opinion that kid was worse than the attacker.
"I don't want you to risk your life like this," Blaine said finally, taking Kurt's hand and pressing it to his heart. "We're going to be married, Kurt. The past two days have been hell for me. And I hope we're lucky enough for something like this to never happen again. But to think that you just run off without thinking..." Blaine's voice broke and he averted his eyes.
"I won't," Kurt said, tears in his eyes once more. "I promise. Next time, if there is a next time, I'm going to call the police and then I'll yell from a distance, but I won't get in the line of fire again."
"That's all I ask." Blaine said, leading the way out of the hospital.
Kurt held his hand tightly once they got out onto the busy New York streets, trying to keep close so he didn't get jostled too much. He was still healing after all. Blaine hailed them a cab and helped Kurt get in before telling the driver their address.
"Can you take the smoothest road there, please?" Blaine asked, settling Kurt next to him. The driver agreed and pulled away from the curb.
Kurt was never so glad to see their apartment. He was tired of being in the hospital, it brought back too many memories, even though this hospital was in New York, not Lima.
Blaine payed the cabbie and then assisted Kurt to their building. He pushed open the door, placing his hand on the small of Kurt's back, "Welcome home." He whispered, kissing the corner of Kurt's mouth.
Burt walked over immediately, his face apologetic, "I'm sorry, kid. You know I was just worried about you and-"
Kurt raised his hand, stopping his dad from going on, "Don't worry about it, Dad. I get it completely." Burt let out a relieved sigh, wrapping an arm around Carole who came over to join them. Kurt looked over at Blaine, smiling, "I'm just glad to be home."
"Family hug," Burt said and held out his arm to invite Blaine into the embrace.
The small family gathered in the entrance in a group hug. He was finally home.
Thank you for reading! I hope you liked this little one-shot. It is co-written with the amazing and wonderful LaurenEP18.
As always reviews are very appreciated! :)