It's a couple of hours later, and Will is watching the traffic far below the narrow windows and sipping from the Styrofoam cup of coffee one of the nurses brought him soon after he arrived (a tiny, sparrow-like, older woman, the one who brought the blanket, who seems to have made Kurt a special project, checking in on him every hour or so unobtrusively. And now she's adopted Will, as well). It's been so quiet on the floor, even when they brought in another patient and settled her into the room next to Kurt's father's, that when the alert goes off it's shockingly loud.
Will turns from the window in time to see Kurt uncoil and launch himself from the chair even before he's fully awake. The blanket slides to the floor unheeded as Kurt looks around the room for a second like he isn't sure where he is. He doesn't even seem to see Will. When he consciously registers the sound of the alert and the team of doctors and nurses rushing past the waiting room door, Kurt goes absolutely gray. He stumbles towards the doorway, but his feet catch in the fabric and trip him up. Only Will's quick reaction saves him from landing in an ungainly heap on the floor - Will crosses the little room in two quick steps and catches him in his arms, and guides him around the puddle of cloth.
Kurt seems to get stuck at the door, clinging to the frame with one hand and to Will's arm with the other, as Will shifts so he can put his arm around Kurt's shoulders. Kurt watches the crash cart with wide, frightened eyes as it is wheeled hurriedly down the hall, in a flurry of white coats and medical jargon. Will's pretty sure he's holding his breath.
When it moves past the door of the room where Burt Hummel lies, Kurt closes his eyes briefly and leans his forehead against the door frame. He's breathing like he ran a marathon, like he's just surfaced from somewhere deep underwater. A drowning man, reprieved.
Will can feel Kurt's shoulders begin to shake as he pulls the teen away from the door. He really wishes Emma were here. He doesn't know how to help, what to do, except to hold on tighter when Kurt sort of seems to become aware of him and starts to pull away from him with a murmur of… apology?
He shakes his head, making soothing noises, and pulls Kurt into a hug, all the while wondering if he's really helping at all, because of all his students Kurt is the one who is likely to react like an offended cat when anyone touches him. He almost never seems to want to be touched. But after a scary moment where Will thinks he might have pushed too hard and Kurt goes very still and very stiff, the boy just sags into his arms and slowly, tentatively brings his arms up, and then he's hanging on to Will like he's the only thing keeping him afloat.
Will has seen Kurt cry before, always just one or two tears escaping before he can quite push whatever he's feeling back behind all those walls he hides behind, his emotions nearly always (only) set free by music. It's almost always silent, never as dramatic as the boy's quick temper often is.
It's eerie.
And even now, as Will holds him, and he knows that Kurt is crying - can feel hot tears soaking his shoulder - Kurt doesn't really sob, like Will would have expected. He just goes taut, curled in on himself against Will's shoulder, like an over-wound spring, for a frighteningly long time where Will isn't certain he's even breathing, then something seems to release and he draws in a painful deep, shuddery breath, and it all starts again. Will is pretty sure that, if he were to make a sound at all, Kurt would be keening, this is so raw and primal, but he's utterly silent except for those choking, wrenching breaths.
It really frightens Will.
And he knows that Kurt just can't go on like this, his body just can't sustain this for much longer at this level of intensity. He is sure that when this passes Kurt is going to be exhausted; he's already leaning heavily on Will as it is. So Will manages to get them into the chairs, before they both fall down, and is seriously debating calling one of the nurses to see if he can get them to bring a sedative, something to calm Kurt down, when Kurt seems to slowly get control of himself again. He takes one more deep breath-one that almost sounds normal- releasing it slowly, and sits back, pulling away from Will. This time, Will lets him go.
Kurt sits back against the chair, and covers his flushed face with both hands for a long moment, before wiping the tears from his face and then digging in his pocket for a small pack of tissues. He blows his nose, tosses the tissue into the trash, and slumps against the seat-back, his eyes locked on his hands, twisting in his lap, shredding a fresh tissue. "Sorry," he finally whispers.
Will kind of wants to shake him, very gently, of course. Instead, he just pats Kurt on the arm. "It's ok," he says, knowing that Kurt is already regretting the loss of composure in front of anyone else.
"I've been surprised that you've been able to hold it together at all this week, Kurt. I know I'd be a wreck."