Author's Note: Julian and Kurt are one of my favourite friendships. Unfortunately, I don't do Kurt any justice in the diva department so I'll keep this one focused on Julian.
Disclaimer: Still nothing here to call my own.
On a sunnier day, a different boy entered, his own bandages securing his ankle and wrist. Hobbling over to the sleeping Julian's bedside, Kurt Hummel took one look at the actor and, rolling his eyes, brought out his uninjured hand and squeezed Julian's wounded arm, effectively spiking his heart rate, opening his eye, tensing all his muscles, and making him cry out in pain.
Kurt shouldn't really have revelled in the actor's pain. But he kinda did.
"Will you stop being such a drama queen?" Kurt chided, voice portraying annoyance and showing none of his inner satisfaction. But Julian must have seen it somehow because he smirked, even through the slow-to-recede pain.
"Outshining you, am I, Hummel?"
Kurt gave a derisive scoff, "As if you could."
Julian laughed but then the coughs started up. The mixture of smoke and paint fumes from that night had done horrible damage to his lungs. To all their lungs really, but Julian's body had reacted to it with alarming sensitivity – both the doctors and his best friends had been very worried about its recovery, and Kurt couldn't blame them; soon after he first met the prima donna, Kurt heard mention that Julian once had a terrible experience with smoking and had kept far away from it ever since. He imagined inhaling smoke from a burning building was something Julian labeled as 'Things to Stay Away From Because They Pose Dangers to My Health and Well-being'.
He wondered if Julian labeled certain people like that too.
Settling down in the chair Logan had once occupied, Kurt asked, "How are you?"
Julian sighed for a long time. "Alive."
Kurt nodded. He, too, felt that, considering all that had happened – all that could have happened – it was a true blessing to still be breathing, let alone be conscious. Most of the other boys were fine enough to rest at home but poor Reed still hadn't woken since the explosion that took them all down. Shane was near to driving himself crazy remaining at his bedside night and day. Blaine had taken it upon himself to feed the hysteric boy and keep him company when he could. But after the brothers' fourth argument on the importance of rest and proper supplement and why they should be a priority, Kurt felt he needed a change of company. Why had Julian bloody Larson seemed like a good idea? Kurt figured some of Dalton's insanity had finally worn off on him.
"How are you?" The actor asked, turning the fashionista's question to him.
"Good," he replied, "I mean, as good as I could be." He held up his wrist, showing off his colourfully signed cast, "So long as I can keep out of trouble, there should be no complications at all while I heal."
Julian gave a weak smile. "You're lucky." It was bland and pale compared to the one he used for all the cameras. More sad, more sickly.
Kurt bit his lip. "I take it that you still can't…"
Julian just shook his head, not even asking how word got around to Kurt. Hearing the weight of his breaths, Kurt realized he had never seen the actor so close to crying (for real) before – and he had seen Julian through all the stress leading up to Hell Night.
"Have the doctors said anything?" Julian didn't respond, still trying to reign in his tears. Ever the optimist, Kurt continued, "Because they've got to have some sort of… solution. You're Julian Larson, for Gaga's sake, you're paying for the best doctors money can buy!"
"Yeah, well," his breath shuddered, as though Julian were fighting for every bit of control he could muster, "maybe not even money will make me walk again."
"Oh, of course it will!" Kurt wasn't actually as confident as he sounded. So they were both acting. "Look, you're not the only one this has happened to. I had a friend in my old Glee club from McKinley, Artie, and he's been in a wheelchair since he was eight. But he did some research – there are some really promising studies going on out there, maybe more he didn't find. With your influence and cold hard cash, I'm sure they could advance progress even further. You know, speed up the process a little bit."
Julian shut his visible eye, desperate to keep the tears from escaping. No one was ever meant to see him cry and he had already broken that policy with Logan. He didn't need to break it with Kurt too.
But he did. Julian was tired of fighting to keep everything that was real locked deep inside of him and there was no public eye scrutinizing his every move; a slow stream of tears ran down his cheek.
"My life is over."
"That's not true," Kurt protested. But his words were weak, his tone soft – his lie transparent. Especially to Julian who had to lie for almost all of his entire life.
"It is," he insisted, his voice becoming more angry than sad. "You really think anyone will hire me after this? Evenif half my face wasn't burnt and mangled?"
"There's more to your life than an acting career, Julian."
"I can't feel my legs, Kurt!" The words were loud and intense. Julian had finally exploded. "Every morning I get a doctor in here poking and testing and asking me to wiggle my toes or if I feel anything! But I don't! I don't feel a goddamn thing and I am sick of it!" That's right; turn the pain into anger, Julian. Transform your pain as often as you need to – so that you never hurt so bad. Make others hurt, not you. Make others cry, not you. "I'm sick of the doctors, sick of the nurses, sick of the food, of the paparazzi and their news reports, of just lying here, of the memories, and worst of all, I'm sick of Logan butting his way in here and pretending like he gives a real rat's ass about -"
Julian's rampaging tirade was abruptly cut off by a series of jarring coughs that had Kurt reaching out to help however he could. This consisted mostly of supportive hands stabilizing his trembling shoulders and calling nonsensical things to him such as, "Are you alright?" and "Just calm down, Julian! Try to breathe!" Eventually the fit passed, but Julian could taste blood in his mouth where there hadn't been any before. He swallowed quickly, fighting the gag, careful that Kurt wouldn't see.
Author's Note: So now you all know how bad I beat up Jules. Sorry Julian, but it had to be done. ='(