Summary: Rachel gets a phone call that turns her world upside-down in the middle of a once-in-a-lifetime performance. Set in the More Than Words universe. Requested by Tara621.

Prompt: World

Rachel was nearly done with an amazing set.

Who would have thought that a freak accident just after graduation from McKinley could mean something so amazing was just around the corner? In a way, though, having her voice permanently damaged eighteen months ago had forced her to consider other options, and had given her so many opportunities she might have never had before - mainly in allowing her to explore her mostly untapped talent as a composer.

Rachel had gained valuable exposure, thanks to Kurt's generous offer that allowed her to perform for the first time as a pianist, composer and lyricist in front of Carmen Tibideux last May. A year had passed since that amazing night. Rachel had made the decision to move to New York over the summer, and she and Kurt had gotten an apartment together in Bushwick. Not really glamorous, but Rachel didn't need glamorous, she just needed possible. She had worked steadily, thanks to networking and the great audience at Kurt's final show as a freshman at NYADA.

That's how she ended up playing in an amazing space, not too far from home. Tonight, she had the opportunity of a lifetime, playing live for an thirty-minute dance performance. They wanted to feature her work. All instrumental. It was a blessing and a curse, because Rachel had to be as perfect as all the graceful dancers. So far so good. Only one more song to go.

She had just played the opening chords to Making Peace with Broken Pieces, when Rachel saw her cell phone for emergencies, which she placed covertly to her left, lighting up. She saw Kurt's name on the display screen, and very nearly lost her place. Rachel forced herself to focus. If Kurt was calling her on this phone, though, something had to be wrong. Still, she played through the remainder of the song, and then rushed off stage as soon as possible to call him back. Maybe it had been accidental, but Rachel didn't think so. Kurt was careful.

There was no message, so she pressed a button and waited for him to pick up.

"Kurt?" Rachel asked, her own voice soft and scratchy.

"This tonight Wednesday were stop use frantic worship fiddle… I can't even… Something… I really need…purple knots and heavy inside this apparatus…"


What the sweet hell was that? Not what Kurt meant to say, that was for sure. It was just that he had felt kind of funny and when he tried to turn on his computer, his hand wouldn't move. His vision was all blurry, and he just felt like something was off. So, he called Rachel on her emergency phone because that was the only thing that made sense. But her voice message sounded like a bunch of nonsense, so he'd hung up, frustrated. He knew her show was close to done. She would call him back. She had to.

Well, she had, but he hadn't understood a single word she said. And when he tried to ask her why she was talking crazy, Kurt realized that he was the one talking crazy. He couldn't understand anything, and he obviously wasn't making sense. He didn't know what to do. He just wanted whatever this was to stop.


Rachel blinked, knowing something was very wrong. She didn't want to alarm Kurt, but he clearly needed help. "I know something is wrong, okay? I hear you. You need to call 911, okay?"

When there was no immediate response aside from more frustrated gibberish, Rachel disconnected with him, and called for help, rushing outside to retrieve her bicycle. She had never felt more grateful to have had a performance at a venue local enough where she could ride there and not have to wait on public transportation. When her call was picked up, Rachel spoke carefully, but with an intensity she hoped carried across the miles to the dispatcher.

"Yes, I need an ambulance sent to an address in Bushwick," she said, specifying the location, praying her voice wouldn't be an obstacle now. Not when she needed it so much. She had to repeat herself twice, but eventually the information got through.

"What's the problem there?"

Rachel shuddered, thinking of another phone call to 911. May of 2012. Finn had been hysterical and not able to give any helpful information. But he had called. Help had come. Rachel took a deep breath, attempting to calm her own nerves.

"My roommate, he's having some kind of medical emergency. When he tries to talk, it doesn't make sense."

"Ma'am? You're going to have to speak up. I can't hear you."

Rachel scanned the street and ducked into a coffee shop that looked quieter than the street and the venue. Once she was inside, Rachel repeated herself carefully.

"Okay. How old is he?"

"He's twenty."

"Are you there with him now?"

"No, but I'm coming," Rachel insisted.

"Okay, I've got an ambulance on the way. Is there any way you could have him call 911?"

"I tried, but I don't think he understands me…" Rachel managed, willing herself not to cry. She didn't need to be anymore unintelligible than she was already.


Rachel arrived home just before the ambulance and found Kurt sitting in front of his computer, cell phone in his hand, staring at it. She could see fear in his eyes. But she barely had time to speak a word to him before the paramedics arrived to take Kurt to the hospital. Where they wanted to take Kurt wasn't the closest, but it was the best.

Thank God, Rachel was allowed to ride along in the ambulance. She sat and held Kurt's hand, hating that all he could do was squeeze hers, and look at her with terrified eyes.

For an hour, Rachel sat in the waiting room, while Kurt was having tests run on him. She'd thought about calling Kurt's dad, but didn't know what to say to him. She had no information, and simply sat, praying and watching the news, until someone in uniform addressed asked if anyone was here for Kurt Hummel.

"I am," she croaked, standing up. "Is he okay?"

"He's stable, and he's asking for you."


Kurt had never been more relieved. Whatever had happened, it was apparently over now, and he was feeling ready to get out of here, even though everyone working here seemed convinced that he should stay and have more incredibly invasive and humiliating tests run on him.

When he saw Rachel, finally, Kurt felt like he could relax.

"Hey," he said softly, extending his hand to her, grateful that it was responding to commands.

She ran to him and squeezed his hand tightly. "Kurt…so…you're all right?" she managed.

"Yes, thanks to you," he said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Word is, your quick thinking might have saved me from an untimely demise…" he joked wryly.

She winced, smacking him lightly. "Don't say that! So, what was it?" she rasped.

"Some kind of attack. Can we get out of here?" he complained.

Rachel's eyes widened. "Like your dad?" she asked.

"He's the heart and I'm the brain, apparently…" Kurt managed to convey sarcasm even with through his exhaustion.

Rachel squinted, shaking a finger at him. "Do you care if I talk to your doctor? For some reason, the idea of you having a random brain attack doesn't sit well with me…"

"Fine, it's not random. It's apparently a Transient Ischemic Attack. Like a mini-stroke. I feel fine now, and I just have to make sure to take care of myself and they want me back for like, two million more tests tomorrow. Hey, how was your show? I'm sorry if I interrupted…"

"You can always interrupt me," she reassured, squeezing his hand.

"Good. Now can we please go home?" he asked, feeling pathetic.

"Only if you've been officially released. And you should call your dad. I was going to, but I didn't have anything to tell him."

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "He's just gonna freak out for no reason. I don't have to tell him right now. It's late and it's not like he's gonna know."

"Are you kidding me?" Rachel insisted. "He's going to know the second your ambulance ride shows up on his insurance statement."

"Oh, crap. You're right," Kurt sighed. "Okay, I'll call him. But he's not coming out here to hover over me."

"Can I hover over you?" Rachel asked seriously.

"You save my life, I think you can do whatever you want," Kurt laughed. "Seriously, Rachel? Thank you."

"Of course," she smiled gently. "After all, you were there for me."

The End.