Author's Note: Hello again! Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter posted, but I've been putting out a lot of fires in my personal and professional lives lately which didn't leave much time for fic writing. It was also a doozy to write. I think I "finished" this chapter at least three or four different times, only to go back and re-read and decide to add more to it. I think this chapter is all the better for those revisions and additions though and it's more than triple the length of Chapter 1 to boot. As always, I couldn't do this without my trusty beta and Tumblr BFF alexeidarling. She came up with several of the best lines and one of the songs that features heavily in the last half of the chapter, so I'm bumping her up from beta to co-author status. No major warnings for this chapter (except for a little cursing). There is a little talk of medical stuff, but nothing too detailed or squicky. Really, the only warning you need is this:
Warning - this chapter contains so much CrissColfer banter, h/c, and fluff that it may be quite literally dangerous to your health. Enjoy!
The twenty minute drive to the hospital was eerily quiet, and not just because of the nearly deserted roads. Darren had needed more help getting to the car then Chris had anticipated and the never ending stairs clearly hadn't helped. But it had still been unnerving to see Darren sitting in the passenger seat of Chris' SUV looking pale, sweaty, and utterly miserable. But what had really started to make Chris nervous was how unbelievably still and silent Darren had been throughout the drive. Aside from a few muffled moans when Chris hit a particularly potholed stretch of highway, Darren had remained mostly quiet, speaking only when spoken to, and even then, very little.
Chris had been relieved at how easy the whole sign-in process had been. He'd heard horror stories about LA hospital waits of up to 10 hours. It was hard not to picture a trauma scene straight out of ER with gunshot victims coming in by the ambulance load and people sitting in the lobby holding their partially severed fingers on ice. Luckily, reality was much more mundane. There were only four or five people in the waiting room, none looking too much the worse for the wear. A crying baby, a coughing middle aged woman, and a teenager balancing an ice pack on his elbow sat sprawled on the couches, flicking through magazines and blinking back fatigue.
Chris couldn't be sure if Darren was taken to the back immediately because the triage nurse recognized him or because he simply looked that pathetic, but Darren was seated on a gurney behind a curtained off area within five minutes of walking through the door. But as Chris helped Darren settle back on the bed, he could see just how much the small trip had taken out of him.
"Darren? How're you feeling?" Chris asked, handing him a pillow to tuck behind his head.
"Oh awesome...you?" he asked grimly, failing to muster even a wry smirk.
Chris frowned, taking in the beads of sweat on Darren's forehead. Instead of replying, he reached out tentatively, wincing at how hot Darren's cheek was. "Yikes," he whispered.
"It's hot in here," Darren replied, a little defensively.
"It really isn't. It's freezing in here," Chris responded.
"Well, no worries because I'm pretty sure I can keep you warm..."
Chris snorted... "I'm sure you can. My own little space heater, huh?"
"Exactly..." Darren sighed, with the smallest hint of a smile on his lips, his eyes already sliding closed in fatigue.
Chris reached out, sliding his hand along Darren's upper arm in what he hoped was a soothing motion, squeezing gently as he reached Darren's shoulder. "Shh, try to get some rest, okay Dare?"
Darren's only response was a soft exhalation of breath as he slipped into a fitful, feverish sleep.
Darren didn't get long to rest before the nurse poked her head into the room.
"Hi guys, I'm Jenny and I'm going to be taking care of you tonight. You're Darren, right?" she asked, extending a hand.
"Yeah, that's me," Darren replied with a weak, sleepy grin.
"Okay great, well I'm going to take your vital signs really quickly and then you can tell me what's been going on, okay?"
Darren nodded, obediently opening his mouth for the thermometer and allowing Jenny to wrap the blood pressure cuff around his arm. Chris' eyes flickered over to the display, already anticipating that Darren would have a fever.
After a few moments, the monitor beeped. 103.2 degrees.
"Shit," Chris swore under his breath, biting his lip as he looked to the nurse with concern.
"Eh," Darren muttered.
"Eh, Darren? Really? That's the best you got? Usually you want your body temperature to be under a hundred degrees..." Chris shot back, exasperated.
"Okay, Mom..." Darren replied with an affectionate eye roll. "Seriously though, 103 is not so bad. When I was a little kid, it once got up to 105.5 I started hallucinating that my legos were alive and building themselves into a fortress around me. It was like I could see into another dimension. It was amazing..."
Chris shook his head in bemusement, momentarily speechless. He turned to the nurse, "He's totally fine, right? Or do most of your feverish patients crack jokes and try to charm the hospital staff?"
The nurse laughed long and hard at that, obviously charmed. "He certainly looks good for someone who's feverish and spent the night puking, I'll say that."
"You should see me on a good night," Darren bantered back.
Later, Chris would start to be more aware of Darren's signs that underneath the bravado, he was feeling pretty miserable. It was his stillness that gave him away. Darren Criss, television, stage, and internet star, almost never sat still. This was apparent from his resume, but it was also apparent to anyone who'd ever spent five minutes with the guy. He was always in a perpetual state of motion. Even while having a conversation with friends, Darren would put a hand on someone's knee or rub his shoulders or dance and gesticulate wildly to illustrate a story he was telling.
But Darren Criss, current hospital patient, had remained in one position for almost the entire night. He was slumped against the gurney in a way that managed to look both incredibly uncomfortable and awkward while also giving off an air of casual indifference as if at any moment, Darren would sit up, roll his eyes, and say "I have no idea why I'm at the hospital. I'm totally fine." But Darren wasn't fine. Chris hadn't failed to notice that his hand had been protectively splinted against his right side since he'd picked Darren up from his apartment hours ago. And while Chris had done his best to honor Darren's request that he not make him laugh since laughing hurt, Chris noticed how Darren braced himself for other small movements like coughing or eve sipping water. In the past on more than one occasion, Chris had (affectionately) yelled at Darren, "Oh my god, can you please just sit still for five minutes?" when Darren's manic energy started to make Chris exhausted or dizzy. But now, Darren's stillness was causing an ache in the pit of Chris' stomach as it continually reminded him that Darren wasn't okay. That he was in pain. And worst of all, that Chris could do little to fix it.
The nurse worked with quick efficiency as she continued her exam. Whatever burst of earlier energy Darren had gained from his short nap seemed to have long since faded away, and Chris couldn't help but notice how quickly the witty banter and charming smiles had been replaced with nods and grunts in response to the nurse's seemingly endless questions.
"Okay, almost done," the nurse reassured with a sympathetic smile. "I just need you to slide this hospital gown on. You can leave your pajama pants on as long as they don't have any metal on them. I have a feeling the doctor's going to want to order a CT scan, so we might as well get you ready for it now.
Darren frowned, taking the folded gown with his left hand, his right arm still pressed against his side. With a groan, he pushed himself up on one elbow, trying to sit upright.
Chris was on his feet at Darren's side in an instant, sliding a hand around Darren's back and helping him slowly sit up, rubbing across Darren's back and shoulders in smooth circles as Darren let out another low moan.
"Shh, I got you," Chris whispered, taking the folded hospital gown from Darren's hand before reaching for the hem of Darren's well worn Michigan t-shirt.
Darren flushed red, embarrassed at how utterly helpless he was at the moment. "Chris, you don't have to..." he started.
"Hush, Darren... Just let me help you," Chris answered firmly, sliding Darren's t-shirt over his head before Darren had time to protest. Darren shivered involuntarily at the contrast between the cool hospital air and his fevered skin, goose bumps erupting all over his torso. Chris quickly fed each of Darren's arms through the armholes of the baggy hospital gown, slipping behind Darren momentarily to tie the neck of the gown in a loose knot.
"Okay, all done," Chris announced softly, sliding an arm around Darren's shoulders as he watched him sway slightly, struggling to stay upright. With his free hand, Chris quickly fluffed Darren's pillows, positioning them behind Darren's head before slowly lowering him back to the bed.
Darren's eyes were closed when Chris looked down at him, his face tight. After a moment, Darren blew out a slow, shaky breath and opened his eyes, gazing up at Chris with an unreadable expression on his face. "Thanks," he murmured, almost shyly. Chris answered by giving Darren's shoulder a quick squeeze before scooting back to his perch on the other side of the bed, giving the nurse room to complete her exam.
"Great," the nurse replied. "I'm just going to lift up your gown for a second here," she continued. "Can you show me where it hurts the most?"
Darren nodded, reluctantly pulling his arm away from where it had been protectively splinted against his side. He slid up his gown and pointed to spot halfway between his hip and belly button on his right side.
The nurse nodded, making a quick note on the small laptop balanced on her knees. "Okay, now I'm just going to feel around a bit. Tell me if anything hurts a lot more than usual." She began gently palpitating Darren's abdomen. Darren immediately jerked, biting down hard on his lower lip as the nurse's hand made contact with his side. "Sorry, my hands are cold," the nurse apologized.
Darren closed his eyes, focusing all his energy on not crying out as the nurse slowly poked and prodded his tender side. But he couldn't keep silent as the nurse pressed down hard on the spot that hurt most, causing Darren to feel as if he'd been stabbed in the stomach with a white hot fireplace poker. The noise that escaped his mouth barely sounded human, a high pitched whine better suited to wounded animal, and it took Darren several seconds to realize that the noise was coming from him. He fisted the blanket in his hand, holding on for dear life as he focused all his energies on not crying or throwing up. After a few seconds, Darren regained his voice, muttering a breathless "Shit," under his breath as the pain continued to crest, the nurse still pressing firmly on his side.
"Darren? I'm guessing that's the spot that hurts the most, right?" the nurse asked.
"Yeah," he gasped, silently begging the pain to end.
Chris watched Darren's ordeal play out, his fingers itching with the desire to comfort Darren in some way. After a moment's hesitation, he reached out, settling for placing a steadying hand on Darren's forearm, stroking up and down slowly, all the while wishing he could do something more to ease Darren's pain.
"Okay, almost done torturing you, I promise," the nurse replied apologetically. "I'm about to move my hand but I need you to tell me if it hurts more when I'm pressing on your side or when I take my hand away, alright?"
Darren simply nodded, waiting. Surely nothing can be worse than what the nurse had already done, right? Wrong.
If before was being stabbed in the stomach with a fire poker, what came next would be akin to being torn apart by something with razor sharp teeth. While also being stabbed. And shot. And about a hundred other creative tortures that Darren's mind simply couldn't process, because fuck, that hurt.
Darren was groaning again, this time low and guttural rather than a high pitched whine. His vision whited out for a minute, making it hard to tell if his eyes were opened or close. Suddenly, there was a
steadying hand at this temple, stroking gently. Chris. And while it didn't make much sense, Darren was convinced that Chris had some sort of magical touch because the completely involuntary groaning suddenly ceased, and while he was still sweaty and wracked with pain and completely miserable, he somehow still felt a tiny bit better at the reminder that Chris was there.
"Okay, sorry about that," the nurse spoke apologetically. "I'm pretty sure I already know the answer, but it looks like it hurt worse when I took my hand away. Am I right?"
Darren could only manage a pitiful nod.
"You poor thing," the nurse murmured. "We're going to get you feeling better soon, Darren. I promise."
Chris gave Darren what he hoped was a reassuring smile, continuing to stroke his hair while trying hard not to think about the cries of pain that were still echoing in his brain, making him ache.
"Alright," the nurse started, climbing to her feet and gathering the laptop, "so here's what's going to happen next. I'm going to give the information I've gathered from your exam to the doctor on call. Then he'll put in some orders for tests. He's going to want to draw some blood, get an IV started, and do some imaging to get a look at what's going on internally. He'll also write orders for some pain medicine and probably something to get your fever down. Once we get all the test results back, he'll be in to examine you himself, and we'll go from there. Okay? Any questions?"
Chris shook his head, slightly overwhelmed.
But Darren did have questions, several in fact. His mind was buzzing with all the things that the nurse had mentioned that he really, really didn't want to do. Or have done to him, rather. But there was one question high atop his list.
"Yeah actually," Darren managed, with no small amount of effort. "What's wrong...with me? Is it my appendix? Or...?"
"Well, I'm just a nurse...It's the doctor that will make the official diagnosis and he won't know anything for sure until all the test results come back."
Darren gave the nurse a pleading expression, anxiety radiating off him in waves.
The nurse sighed, quickly glancing toward the partially open curtain to ensure no one was nearby before stepping forward, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper. "You didn't hear this from me...but yeah, it looks like a pretty textbook case of appendicitis. The good news is that your vital signs are good, aside from the fever, which means you probably caught it fairly early. If it is your appendix, the doctors here will have you all fixed and back on your feet in no time.
Now it was Chris' turn to worry, the question already on his lips. "So if it's his appendix, he'll have to have surgery, right? How soon? And what's the recovery like?"
"Listen guys," Jenny admonished, holding up a hand. "Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves, okay? We still have to confirm if that's what we're dealing with here. But to answer your question, they're going to want to remove his appendix as soon as possible if it's appendicitis. I'm guessing that they'd try to get you on the schedule for surgery in the morning...early afternoon at the very latest. They usually do the procedure laproscopically now which means that patients can go home a lot sooner. Usually the day after the surgery, assuming there are no complications. But for now, Darren, I just need you to take it easy and try to get some rest. I should be back pretty soon to draw some blood and start an IV so I can get you some medicine for the pain, okay?"
Chris was watching Darren carefully, and this time didn't miss the involuntary shudder Darren gave as the nurse mentioned drawing blood and starting an IV. Just something he'd have to file away for later.
"Okay guys, I'll be back as soon as I can. In the meantime, Darren, I don't want you getting out of bed without help because you're bound to be pretty shaky on your feet between the fever and the pain in your side. The call button's right here if you need anything." The nurse stepped into the hallway, sliding the curtain closed completely behind her, leaving Darren and Chris alone to process everything.
There was a moment of shared silence that passed between Darren and Chris, both of them clearly overwhelmed by this new information.
Chris watched Darren exhale a shaky breath, looking unsteady and near tears.
Darren was staring at the wall, studiously avoiding eye contact with Chris, even as he felt Chris' gaze upon him. He was perilously close to falling apart, the fatigue, anxiety, and pain threatening to knock down any strength or resolve that remained. He was so glad that Chris was with him, and yet, part of him longed for Joey or Meredith or Chuck or anyone, really, who'd already seen him at his worst. Because all three of them already knew just how big of baby Darren really was, having had to hold his hand to get him through shots at the doctor or practically pin him to the bed that one time he'd needed four stitches to his knee. And while Joey swore up and down that he'd never tell another soul, he was pretty sure that all the Starkids had shared a laugh about the time Darren had been laid up in bed with the flu and insisted that Joey feed him soup because it hurt too badly to lift his arm.
"Darren?" Chris called.
"Hmm?" Darren answered noncommittally, his fingers fidgeting with the threadbare blanket that covered him.
"Hey," Chris tried again, his voice softer, tender even. "Darren, look at me."
Slowly, Darren's gaze traveled up to Chris, meeting his eyes reluctantly.
Chris gazed back at him worriedly, seeing the pain, fatigue, and anxiety reflected back in Darren's eyes.
"Darren..." he said again, the word hanging between them for a long, charged moment.
"Hi..." Darren said at last, wanting to break the tension.
Chris smiled at Darren, a little sadly, still not sure what to say to make things okay. He was so used to Darren filling the room with his voice and energy and thoughts. To see Darren so quiet and still was yet another unnecessary reminder of what both of them were trying to avoid discussing. "So..." Chris tried..
"So..." Darren echoed back wearily. "This sucks."
"Yeah," Chris sighed. "It really does."
Darren's eyes flickered down to the blanket again, his fingers twisting a loose thread back and forth between his fingers. "I'm sorry, Chris," he all but whispered softly.
"Sorry?" Chris asked gently. "Why are you sorry?"
"That you have to deal with all of this... that I pulled you out of your bed at 3 AM, that you had to dress me, and that you're stuck taking care of me...I really appreciate it, but I just feel bad..." Darren let out in a rush, still not making eye contact.
"Okay, Darren stop..." Chris admonished. "Seriously, you have to stop apologizing. First of all, you can't help that you're sick. And while I'm not happy you're feeling bad, I am happy that you called me. I want to be here. I want to help. Okay?"
"Okay," Darren said, chewing on the inside of his cheek anxiously.
"No Darren, I mean it..." Chris said, reaching out to stroke Darren's upper arm as he spoke. "Besides, I already told you, I know you'd do the same for me in a heartbeat, right?"
When Darren didn't reply, Chris called out again. "Hey, Darren...c'mon, look at me."
Darren looked up then, his eyes locking with Chris'.
"Right?" he asked again.
Darren nodded at last, pausing momentarily before mumbling something half under his breath.
"Darren? What was that?"
"I just said that I doubted I'd be as good at it as you..."
"As good as me at what?" Chris asked, confused.
"As good at taking care of you as you have been at taking care of me. At the whole hospital thing. Seriously, you're really good at this. I'm starting to suspect you're a little bit magical, Colfer." Darren replied, a slight smile on his lips.
Chris smiled warmly. "I've had a lot of practice."
"Oh, right..." Darren said, nodding, a moment of shared understanding passing between them.
"Whereas I've had absolutely no practice at all..." Darren finished after a minute, wincing a little as he tried to shift his body minutely, immediately regretting the half-hearted attempt of being more comfortable as pain flared in his side.
Chris smiled sympathetically. "You okay?" he asked.
Darren merely nodded, forcing himself to take as deep of a breath as he could tolerate, letting it out slowly.
"So you've never been in the hospital before?" Chris asked gently.
Darren shook his head.
"Never had surgery? Not even outpatient?"
Again, Darren shook his head, growing anxious at the reminder.
"Ever had an IV?" Chris asked, remembering Darren's earlier shudder.
"Nope," Darren replied, biting his lower lip. After a moment's pause, he gathered the courage to ask Chris, "What about you?"
"Yeah, a few times...when I had surgery for one," Chris answered, fingers trailing up Darren's bicep with feather light strokes.
"What'd you have surgery for...?" Darren started. But before Chris could answer, Darren remembered, reaching up a hand to trace the thin white scar on Chris' neck without thinking. "Oh right.."
Chris shivered slightly at the feel of Darren's too warm hand against his neck, momentarily stunned.
Darren felt Chris stiffen slightly under his touch and pulled back, embarassed. "Sorry..." he mumbled.
"Hey, what did I say about the sorrys?" Chris scolded without an ounce of heat behind it. "No, I just wasn't expecting that...and even your hands are hot," he continued, his hand automatically traveling upward to press against Darren's forehead and cheeks in turn, confirming that his fever was going nowhere but up.
"Mhmm...and your hands are still freezing," Darren said absently, his eyes slipping closed as a relieved groan escaped his lips.
"Sorry," Chris said, quickly removing his hand from Darren's cheek.
"No, don't apologize. It felt amazing... In fact," Darren continued, reaching for Chris' hand, and resettling it over his forehead. "Much better...it's like my own personal ice pack."
Chris smiled down at Darren, relishing the opportunity to help comfort him in a concrete way. "Ice packs and space heaters, huh? Good to know that if the whole acting thing doesn't work out, we've got second careers as appliances on reserve."
Darren let out a snort of laughter at Chris' comment, immediately rekindling the fire in his side.
"Oh shit," Chris said as Darren let out a low groan, wincing as he grabbed his side. "Sorry Dare...I'm sorry." He stroked along Darren's temple, brushing back sweaty curls. "Just breathe...It'll pass in a second, okay?"
Darren rode out the wave of pain, letting the sensation of Chris' hand in his hair ground him. "Chriiis," he whined, once he'd regained his voice.
"I know, I know...I'm not supposed to make you laugh. Sorry! See, you spoke too soon. I'm not as good at the whole taking care of people thing as I seem," Chris answered guiltily.
"'S'okay," Darren murmured. "I forgive you." He turned to look at Chris, his face suddenly serious. "Hey, can I ask you a question?"
"Of course, Dare. Anything," Chris replied instantly.
"Did it hurt?" Darren started, his voice sounding small and frightened. "When you had to get an IV? Was it bad?"
"Oh, uh..." Chris started, his mind racing at the gears started to click into place. He remembered Darren's earlier shudder at the mention of getting blood drawn and looked at the anxiety written all over Darren's face right now. "It hurt a little bit, but not that bad, honestly. No worse than a bee sting. And once it's in, you can't really feel it."
"Okay, my turn to ask a question," Chris announced, his hand stilling in Darren's hair as he gazed down at him.
"Umm, okay..." Darren replied hesitantly.
"Darren, are you scared of needles?"
Darren let out the breath he'd been holding in a huff, relieved and embarassed in equal measure. "That obvious, huh? Scared is putting it mildly. Terrified is probably a more accurate descriptor."
"Why didn't you just tell me?" Chris asked, barely suppressing the cooing sound that he was aching to make. It's not that he wanted Darren to be scared or miserable, it's just that seeing Darren so vulnerable was almost painfully adorable, and all Chris wanted to do was gather him in his arms.
"What and lose the small scrap of dignity I have left?" Darren groaned. "Or at least the small scrap of dignity I had left until you had to undress me. And not in the sexy way."
Chris couldn't help the fond chuckle that escaped from his lips, causing Darren to frown comically. "See?" Darren gestured. "This is exactly what I was trying to avoid."
"Oh sweetheart, I'm not laughing at you. Just at the 'not in a sexy way' comment. But seriously, I'm the guy that wants to help, okay? Only problem is that I'm not a mind reader. So you've got to talk to me. Is this just a fear of needles or are there other things?" Chris asked, more gently this time.
"Umm, I'm terrified of surgery too, for obvious reasons. I'm not a big fan of hospitals or doctors either. And I'm a huge wimp. I think that about covers it," Darren spoke flatly.
"You aren't a wimp, Darren. Quite the opposite in fact. I've seen how much pain you are in. You're doing great." Chris soothed, stroking Darren's hair.
"Uh no, I'm a wimp. Don't get me wrong, this hurts like a bitch, but I'm definitely not the suffering in silence type. And I'm sure I'm going to be a disaster when it comes time for the IV...and don't even get me started on the surgery," Darren continued, his voice shaking slightly.
"Darren, look at me..." Chris commanded, sliding a finger under Darren's chin and tilting it up to look at him.
"I'm here, okay? I'm not going to let anything happen to you. We'll get through it together."
Darren nodded and sniffled, already perilously close to tears.
"Shh, Dare," Chris whispered, his hand gliding down to stroke Darren's cheek. "It's going to be okay."
"Scared..." Darren murmured, not quite sure if he was saying it aloud.
"I know, honey... Tell me what I can do to help. Want me to call your parents?"
Darren took a breah, forcing himself to swallow hard against the lump in his throat. "No, can't."
"Why not?" Chris asked.
"They're in the Phillpines visiting relatives for the next few weeks."
"Oh...shit," Chris said.
"Yeah..."
"What about your brother?" Chris tried.
"On tour. Can't remember the exact location, but somewhere on the East Coast, I think?" Darren replied.
"Fuck...and Joey is too?" Chris continued.
"Yup, Joey and pretty much all my other Michigan friends are on the Starkid tour. There's no one else to call really, besides all the Glee people and I figured we should wait to call them till we know what's going on," Darren answered dejectedly.
"That sucks, Darren. Your body has pretty terrible timing," Chris said.
"Tell me about it..."
"Want me to call my mom?" Chris asked, only half joking.
"Huh?" Darren asked, honestly confused.
"I don't know...I just thought you probably wanted your mom, and since your mom is out of the country, I'd be happy to loan you mine. She's really good at the whole mothering thing. And she's totally obsessed with you, as you are well aware. Probably a stupid idea..." Chris trailed off, hating how helpless he felt to calm Darren down.
"No, no...not stupid," Darren replied after a second's pause. "It's really sweet. A little weird, but sweet. I'm just not sure how I feel about a loaner mom. It feels a little like cheating on my own mom. And I doubt your mom would enjoy you pimping her out like that. I'm sure she has standards, Christopher."
"Oh, I don't know about that..." Chris answered, a wry grin on his face. "She did have me, after all, so how high can her standards be?"
"Okay, Emmy nominated and Golden Globe winning Chris Colfer... Yeah, I can tell your mom is really slumming it with you," Darren joked fondly. He was quiet for a minute, before he continued, softer than before. "Have I mentioned that I tend to ramble when I'm nervous? You can probably just ignore about 70% of what I'm saying at the moment.
Chris stroked his thumb over Darren's cheekbone. "You hadn't mentioned that, but you didn't really need to. I kinda figured... I do the same thing. But honestly, Darren, aside from the loaner mom, what can I do to help?"
"I...I don't know, really. Just stay, I guess?" Darren replied after a moment's consideration.
"That's a given," Chris replied automatically. "You don't even need to ask for that. I'm not going anywhere. What else?"
"Uhh...distract me while they are doing it? Maybe you can tell me one of your epic Colfer stories?" Darren suggested.
"Done. What else?"
Darren dropped his gaze to the mattress, fidgeting uncomfortably. "Warn me when it's about to happen. I can't stand to watch, but it helps to know when they are going to stick me."
"Piece of cake," Chris answered. "Anything else that would help?"
Darren paused for a moment, trying to decide if he should ask for what he really needed. He thought back to Chris dressing and undressing him with a slight shiver, and realized that any boundaries that he'd tried to keep between loving Chris on camera and off had long since been abandoned anyways.
"Hold my hand?" he asked tentatively.
"Of course," Chris breathed, immediately intertwining his fingers with Darren's.
After a half hour of nervous anticipation, Jenny finally returned, carrying what to Darren looked like very ominous tools of torture. Before she got to work, Chris had quickly explained the situation and Darren's fear of needles. Luckily, Jenny was quite sympathetic, reassuring Darren that she often worked in pediatrics, so she was really good at helping patients through blood draws and IVs. That information was vaguely calming, but did nothing to boost Darren ego as it only confirmed that he was quite literally being a big baby. The nurse had obviously sensed Darren's discomfort, and had explained that she could start the IV first and then draw the blood through that, minimizing the whole ordeal to one needle stick, most likely. While Darren understood that what the nurse was offering was a pretty good deal, all things considered, it still involved a needle, and Darren was still quite honestly terrified. But then Chris squeezed his hand reassuringly and prompted him to turn until he was facing away from Jenny and her assorted instruments of torture and instead staring directly into Chris' crystal clear blue eyes, and Darren had the fleeting thought that just maybe, possibly, he could do this.
"Okay, here goes nothing," Darren announced nervously, trying to focus on Chris' face in front of his, steady, warm, and solid. He gripped Chris' hand a little tighter, wondering absently if he was going to leave bruises. "I'm gonna try my best not to freak out, not that this whole affair isn't going to be very high on dignity...or manliness for that matter. Consider yourself warned."
Chris' eyes grew wide at Darren's last comment, causing Darren to start panicking in earnest.
"Chris? What is it? Is the needle that massive or something? Oh god..." Darren blurted.
"What? No, no...shh, Darren. Everything's fine. The nurse is still getting the supplies ready. Deep breaths, remember? In and out... No, I was making that face because your comment reminded me of something and I just came up with a totally brilliant way to distract you. You ready to find out what it is?"
"I guess?" Darren said, whimpering a tiny bit and sliding his eyes closed as the nurse suddenly ran a damp alcohol swab over the top of his hand. "Shit, Chris..." Darren whined. "Distract me? Please?"
"Shh Darren..It's okay. I'm right here. Just focus on me, alright? The nurse is just cleaning off your hand with some alcohol. Nothing to worry about it. Now she's going to wrap something around your arm to make it easier to find a good vein. It's not gonna hurt, but it might pinch a little."
"Ch-Chr-iiis," Darren stuttered out, starting to cry a little, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his increasingly shallow breaths.
"Honey, open your eyes," Chris commanded, his voice low. He pressed his forehead against Darren's momentarily, waiting until Darren pried his eyes open and locked his gaze with Chris' yet again. "Feel my hand, Dare?" Chris asked, squeezing gently. "You're not alone. You're safe. I've got you, okay?"
"Right now, I want you to try to forget about the hospital. You aren't here. We're somewhere else."
"Where are we?" Darren sniffled.
"We're at one of your shows. You are about to go onstage for a sold out show at the biggest venue you've ever played. The crowd is cheering already. They can't wait to see you."
"Then what?" Darren asked, his voice still shaky but more solid than it had been only minutes earlier.
"You walk out on the stage and the crowd goes wild. They can't wait to hear you sing. And you're going to open with one of your all-time favorite songs. An absolute classic."
"What song?" Darren asked, honestly curious, feeling himself more and more drawn into Chris' story minute by minute.
Chris smiled and began to hum the opening bars under his breath.
"Let's get down to business..." Chris sang.
"Oh my god." Darren breathed, rolling his eyes a little, even as he appreciated how secretly perfect the song was. If only Chris knew just how often he put that song on when he needed a quick pick me up, whether it was to boost his energy at the gym or psych himself up for a long night of song-writing.
"...to defeat the Huns."
Chris glanced back to the nurse quickly, trying to gauge her progress. She nodded, signaling Chris as she picked up the needle.
"Dare...I need you to take a nice deep breath for me, okay? You're going to feel a little stick but it's going to be over in no time. Just focus on me, honey. Concentrate on my voice and the feel of my hand."
"Did they send me daughters when I asked for sons?"
Chris kept his gaze on Darren, anticipating his reaction as the nurse slowly slid the needle and hollow cannula into his hand.
Darren whimpered loudly, his face blanching. Chris could see his eyes blanking out, no longer locked with Chris' own.
"Shh, I know, Darren. I know it hurts. Just breathe. It's almost over. You're doing great. Just look at me, Dare. Stay with me, honey," Chris encouraged tenderly.
"You're the saddest bunch I've ever met but you can't bet before we're through... Mister, I'll make a man out of you."
"Chris, Chris...nghh Chris," Darren moaned.
Chris leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to Darren's temple before responding. "I'm here...what do you need, sweetheart?"
"I- I..." Darren started, still crying a little. "Keep singing?" he finally managed through his tears.
Ten minutes and several verses of "I'll Make a Man Out of You" later, Darren was finally well on his way to la-la land, his IV having been placed and medicines administered. As Jenny left the room with promises to check on them again soon, Chris scooted his chair a little closer to Darren's bedside, brushing sweaty locks of hair off Darren's clammy forehead, still humming a little under his breath.
Darren sighed appreciatively as his eyes slid closed.
"Feeling better?" Chris asked with a relieved smile.
"Much."
"Good drugs?"
"Oh god, Chris, you have no idea..." Darren slurred.
"I'm just glad you're feeling better," Chris said fondly. "And your face is kinda hilarious."
"Mhhm, I swear I would marry this stuff if I could. What's it called again?" Darren mumbled.
"Morphine?" Chris answered, bemused.
"Ahh Morphine, how I love thee. I'm thinking a spring wedding."
"You're ridiculous..."
"You're just now figuring this out?" Darren murmured absently. "Stop harshing my buzz."
Chris chuckled at that, his nose crinkling. "Fair enough. Get some sleep, Dare. You've earned it."
"Mm'kay," Darren answered, snuggling back into the pillows a bit more. Slowly, he lifted his hand, still intertwined with Chris' own, resettling it over his heart before letting the drugs pull him under, falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Chris simply watched Darren for several minutes, taking solace in the steady rise and fall of his chest and the way his face went slack as he slept, all signs of the earlier tension and pain fading away. As Chris gazed at his sleeping friend, he felt his chest flood with a strange warmth that he couldn't place or explain. It was just relief, he finally decided. Relief that Darren was feeling better. But there was still one question that Chris couldn't explain away. If it was just relief, why was it coupled with such longing?
Darren mostly slept for the next few hours, only waking for a minute here and there to answer a doctor's question or have his vital signs taken. Chris stayed by his side the whole time, only separating from Darren out of necessity while Darren had a CT scan. Darren hadn't been thrilled about leaving Chris, even for a few minutes, but did so reluctantly after Chris had assured him multiple times that there were no needles involved in the scan, managing a weak smile when Chris kissed his forehead and told him to smile pretty for the camera.
Not long after the scan, an older doctor in a white coat had appeared, confirming that Darren did indeed have appendicitis and that he'd need surgery. Luckily, the doctor echoed Jenny's earlier sentiment that they'd caught it relatively early and his appendix hadn't ruptured, so it would be a fairly routine operation. Darren was put on the surgery schedule for 11 am and given more fluids and antibiotics.
When it was close to Chris and Darren's shared call time, he'd texted Ryan and the other Glee staff, explaining the situation. They were understanding, promising Chris that they'd give him and Darren the week off from filming, agreeing to shoot around their scenes for now. Relieved, Chris moved to the next item on his to do list, which was notifying the other Glee actors. He knew he'd catch a lot of heat if Lea or Diana heard about Darren's surgery from Ryan or Ian instead of him, so he typed up a quick mass text, promising to keep everyone informed on Darren's condition and agreeing to let them all know when it was safe to visit. The outpouring of love and concern that followed had been swift, overwhelming, and utterly predictable, given how adored Darren was on set. Chris knew it was only a matter of time before Darren's hospital room would be flooded with visitors, flower bouquets, fruit baskets, and balloons.
Chris was flicking through the to do list on his phone again when a low groan startled him. He looked over at Darren just in time to see Darren's eyes fly open before he suddenly lurched forward, draping himself over the bed railing with a whimper. "Nggh Chris, gonna..."
Chris didn't wait for Darren to finish the sentence, having a pretty good idea of what was coming next. He quickly grabbed the empty wastebasket on the floor near the bed, lifting in just in time for Darren to empty the meager contents of his stomach into the wastebasket. Chris rubbed Darren's back as he retched, whispering reassurances all the while. "Shh Darren, it's okay..."
After a few moments, the retching stopped and Darren rested his head against the bed railing, looking more pitiful than Chris had ever seen him look before.
Chris' hand trailed up to Darren's hair, wiping a sweaty curl from his forehead. "Did you get it all out?" he asked softly.
Darren simply shrugged, his eyes sliding shut in exhaustion, his head still pressed against the bed railing and his body draped half on and half off the edge of the hospital bed.
Chris sighed and reached for a paper towel on the nightstand. He quickly wet it, running it across Darren's cheeks, forehead, and the back of Darren's neck, wincing at how warm Darren's skin still was against his hands. He dropped the paper towel into the trash below, looking back to Darren who had still not moved a muscle, his whole body looking tense, rigid, and pained.
"Dare?" Chris called, touching Darren's cheek softly. "You want to rinse your mouth out?"
Darren bit his lip as his eye flickered open, seeming surprised at how close Chris was to him. After a second's pause, he nodded minutely.
Chris grabbed a cup off the nightstand, pouring a few inches of water into a pink plastic cup. He quickly unwrapped a plastic straw, plunking it into the cup. Chris started to hand the cup to Darren, pausing as he realized Darren couldn't move, as one hand was clinging to his side while the other was wrapped tightly around the bed railing. Instead, Chris grasped the straw, extending it towards Darren's slightly parted lips, letting him sip water and swirl it around in his mouth before lifting the trashcan towards Darren so he could spit out the excess water. Darren nodded absently as his eyes slid close again, his head resting atop his hand on the edge of bed railing. "Thanks," he whispered.
Chris nodded, still watching Darren carefully. Darren remained impossibly still, his entire body tensed in the same awkward position half on and half off the bed.
"Darren, don't you wanna lay back down?" Chris finally asked.
Darren flinched, shaking his head quickly, avoiding eye contact with Chris.
"Why not? Are you going to throw up again?" Chris asked gently.
Again, Darren's only reply was the slightest shake of his head.
"Okay..." Chris muttered, confused. "You don't look comfortable though. Talk to me, Darren. Why don't we get you back in the bed?"
Darren finally opened his eyes, meeting Chris' gaze reluctantly. "Hurts too much to move," he managed tightly.
"Oh..." Chris hummed with realization. "Jesus Darren, why didn't you say something sooner?" Chris glanced down at Darren's white-knuckled hand still tightly gripping the bedrail, absently covering Darren's hand with his own as he tried to come up with a way to make Darren more comfortable.
"Uhh...Dare...do you think you could move if I help you? Or...I could call the nurse to get you some pain medicine and then we could try moving in a few minutes?" Chris asked gently, squeezing Darren's hand.
Darren forced his eyes open again, blinking heavily as he considered his options. "Okay," he finally whispered.
"Yeah? Medicine first?" Chris asked.
"Mhmm," Darren nodded, wincing.
"Okay, on it..." Chris replied, reaching for the call button, relieved when the nurse quickly replied, saying that she'd be in to check on Darren momentarily.
Chris turned his attention back to Darren, his heart aching a bit at just how utterly miserable and pathetic Darren still looked. Chris brought his hand to Darren's temple, smoothing back his hair as he spoke. "The nurse is on the way, okay? Not much longer..."
Darren shook his head, looking weary.
"Anything I can do?" Chris asked, tracing patterns across Darren's knuckles as he looked Darren searchingly, desperate to help in a tangible way.
Darren stayed silent, but slowly released his grip on the bed railing, turning his hand over and intertwining his fingers with Chris' own. Chris gave Darren's hand a quick squeeze in reply before placing an absent kiss to Darren's temple. Later it would occur to Chris just how casually intimate that small gesture had been, but in the moment, being there for Darren in that way felt like the most natural thing in the world.
As they waited, Chris continued to stroke Darren's hair, murmuring words of encouragement. Darren clung to Chris' hand as if it was a lifeline, eyes shut tightly in pain, his body remaining rigidly still.
Suddenly, Darren stiffened, letting out a muted groan as his hand crushed into Chris' own. "Fuck," Darren whispered as particularly strong wave of pain crested over him, causing hot tears to sting his eyes.
"Darren?" Chris replied worriedly, his hand smoothing across Darren's temple and cheek as he bent down to eye level, studying Darren's face.
Darren could feel Chris' gaze upon him, and with a low moan, he forced his eyes open, blinking up at Chris through watery eyes, trying not to wince visibly.
A single tear escaped from Darren's eye and slowly rolled down his cheek unbidden. Chris stroked across Darren's cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, wiping away the moisture. "Oh honey," he sighed, aching at how helpless he felt to ease Darren's pain.
"Hurts bad, huh?" Chris asked needlessly, given that the answer was written all over Darren's face.
All of Darren's energy was focused on swallowing down the sob that was threatening to escape from his throat, so he settled for a weak nod.
"Do you want me to go find the nurse? I could tell her to hurry," Chris asked, turning to look through the gap in the curtains into the narrow hallway.
"No," Darren answered immediately, tugging at Chris' hand to pull him closer. "Don't leave..."
Chris turned back towards Darren, looking shocked by the fear and desperation radiating from his every pore.
"Okay, I won't," he soothed, his stomach flipping at the fresh tears glittering on Darren's cheeks. He cupped Darren's face, wiping away his tears with feather-light strokes as he whispered reassurances to Darren. "I'm right here, Dare... I'm not going anywhere. You're okay. Everything's going to be okay. Just hang on, honey..."
Chris was absurdly grateful when Jenny appeared minutes later, bearing several syringes.
"Hi guys," she said softly. "Darren, Chris said you weren't feeling so hot. Can you rate your pain for me?"
"Uhh, 8? 8.5?" Darren managed, lying a little. Because honestly, this pain was off the charts. It deserved a triple digit number. Maybe hieroglyphics. But after his earlier pathetic display, it was time to be a little less wimpy.
"Okay, just give me one second and I'm going to get you feeling better. I just need to check your vital signs first." She picked up the thermometer. "Open up," Jenny directed, sliding the thermometer under Darren's tongue. While she waited for it to beep, she wrapped an automatic blood pressure cuff around Darren's upper arm. Next, she picked up Darren's free hand, clipping a small pulse oximeter to his index finger. A second later, the monitor began to beep, causing all three people to look at the screen expectantly. 102.9 degrees.
Chris frowned. "His fever sure hasn't come down much..."
"It sure hasn't," Jenny replied. "You said he threw up though, right?"
"Yeah," Chris nodded.
She nodded knowingly. "That means he probably threw up the Tylenol I gave him earlier. That would explain the fever. I'll give him some more in a minute."
The monitor beeped again and Jenny quickly jotted down the numbers, now frowning a little herself.
"Everything okay?" Chris asked, growing worried.
"Oh yeah, it's fine. His pulse rate is up a lot, but I'm thinking that's just from the pain," Jenny answered.
"Okay..." Chris answered, trying to ignore the twinge of panic in his stomach.
"Alright, all done," the nurse said after a minute, looking up at Darren and Chris. "So I've got good news and bad news...which do you want first?"
Chris' stomach did a backflip at that comment, immediately looking to Darren, unsure.
"Dare?" he asked.
"Don't...c-care," Darren mumbled miserably. "Good, I guess?"
"Okay," Jenny replied with a sympathetic smile. "The good news is that I've got your next dose of Morphine. Bad news is that it tends to make people nauseous, which is why you probably threw up a few minutes ago. So the doctor ordered a medicine called Phenergan for nausea to be taken with the Morphine. And that medicine can't be administered via IV, so you're going to need to get a shot."
Darren groaned, honestly questioning which was worse, the awful pain in his side or facing another needle.
"It'll be okay, Dare. A shot's nothing after getting an IV, trust me," Chris soothed, taking his hand again.
"Fiiine," Darren whined. "Let's just get it over with."
"Okay," the nurse replied. "So this one has to go in your hip..."
Chris looked at Darren. "Oh...umm, do you want me to...? Uh," he stammered awkwardly.
Darren just shook his head, looking unfazed. "It's fine. As we've already established, I have no dignity left. And I need you here..."
"Okay," Chris answered, looking relieved. "I promise I won't look."
"You totally should... I have a nice ass," Darren mumbled, reducing Chris to helpless snorts of laughter.
Darren's eyes grew wide as he watched Jenny draw up a clear liquid into a large syringe.
"Chris..." he whimpered.
"Hey, look at me, Dare. I'm right here, You're okay. It's going to be over really soon, I promise," Chris soothed, stroking his hair again.
Darren tightened his grip on Chris' hand, trying to block out everything that wasn't Chris, biting his lip in a vain attempt not to cry.
"Want me to sing again?" Chris asked.
Darren nodded.
"Any requests? More Mulan?"
Darren thought for a minute. "Baby It's Cold Outside?" he said at last.
"Really Darren? It's like 80 degrees outside and nowhere near Christmas," Chris scoffed.
Darren's only response was to give Chris the full on puppy eyes, and fuck if that wasn't his kryptonite.
"Okay, okay..." Chris caved. "Baby It's Cold Outside" it is... Can I ask why that song though?"
Darren managed a tiny shrug, wincing at the pain even that small movement caused. "I just like the way your voice sounds on it. Plus, good memories..."
Chris smiled at that, blushing a little at the compliment. "Fair enough, although you do realize you're asking me to sing a duet by myself, yes?"
"Please...you can hit what...a high C? I'm pretty sure you can manage a solo duet." Darren shivered as the nurse lifted the hem of his hospital gown, swiping a spot near his hip bone with an alcohol swab, making him nearly gag at the sterile scent.
"Fuck, Chris..." he moaned. "Don't wanna..."
"I know, honey, I know... But it's going to help you feel better, okay?"
Darren nodded, eyes squeezing shut, a few hot tears leaking out.
Chris reached out, wiping away an errant tear with the pad of his thumb before drawing a deep breath and beginning to sing.
"I really can't stay... I've got to go away..."
Darren winced as the nurse smoothly injected the contents of the syringe, his hand crushing into Chris' with a quiet whimper. He was determined to be less of a baby this time, and was proud of himself for not crying out, even as the medicine burned like fire going in.
"My mother will start to worry... My father will be pacing the floor..."
"Okay, all done," the nurse chirped. "Now for the good stuff..." She reached for a port in Darren's tubing, quickly injecting his next dose of Morphine. "You should feel a whole lot better in a few minutes. You need anything else?"
Darren shook his head, relieved the ordeal was over.
"Thank you," Chris said gratefully.
"Of course," she said with a smile. "Let me know if he needs anything else."
"See, that wasn't so bad," Chris said once the nurse left.
"...says the person who didn't just get what felt like battery acid injected in his ass," groaned Darren.
"Aww, poor baby," Chris couldn't help but cooing. "But now you get to be with your lover Morphine. Surely that is worth a smile?"
"Eh..." Darren said tiredly.
"Eh? I thought you two were getting married. Planning a spring wedding and all that?" Chris teased gently.
"That was before it made me puke," Darren answered.
"Ahh, fair enough," Chris said with realization. "Although hopefully said battery acid means no puking this time?"
"Hope not...'cause that was...NOT fun." Darren let out a small yawn.
"Getting sleepy?" Chris asked, his voice low.
"Little bit," Darren said.
"Think you're ready to try moving?" Chris suggested. "Just looking at that position is making my neck hurt."
"Mhmm, gimme a minute," Darren answered. "Still hurts."
"Okay," Chris replied. "Let me know when you're ready," continuing to stroke Darren's hair as they sat in comfortable silence.
"Whoa," Darren said suddenly.
"Darren? Is everything okay? Do I need to get the nurse?" Chris asked, panicking.
"No no...I just...whoa," Darren slurred.
"Okay, I'm going to need you to be a little more specific," Chris commanded, still irrationally worried.
"I think..." Darren started, "that I am...really, really high. Like really high, Chris."
Chris started giggling hysterically because the face that Darren was making just too precious for words.
"Am I really high, Chris? Like really high?" Darren rambled. "I think I am."
Chris couldn't resist pressing a quick kiss to top of Darren's head before responding. "I think...that you may indeed be very high, hon. Enjoy it while it lasts, okay?"
"Whoa..." Darren said again, splaying his fingers in front of his face with a weird grin. "Are you seeing this, Chris? It's crazy, right?"
"I think you're a little crazy, Darren, but that's beside the point. C'mon, let's get you back in bed properly, stoner."
"M'kay... But 'm not a stoner...that was just tha' one time... You're...a stoner!" Darren exclaimed, trying to poke Chris in the chest, but missing him completely by a good six inches, poking the air instead.
"Whatever you say..." Chris said, standing so that he could help lower Darren back to the bed.
Darren suddenly tried to sit up, clutching his side dramatically as he sank back against the bed railing. "Oof," he groaned.
"Darren, stop. You're going to hurt yourself. Just let me help you okay?" Chris directed, placing a restraining arm across Darren's chest.
"Sooorry Chris...don' be mad, 'kay?" Darren sang giving Chris puppy dog eyes that could rival those on the Sarah McLachlan animal cruelty ad.
"I'm not mad, honey," Chris reassured, fluffing Darren's pillows and sliding an arm around his shoulders. "Okay, lay back...nice and slow. I've got you."
With Chris' help, Darren was quickly settled back on the bed.
"Mhmm," he sighed, snuggling into the pillows. He shivered slightly, causing Chris to frown and reach up to feel his forehead, noting with no small amount of relief that he felt marginally cooler.
Chris carefully tucked the blanket up to Darren's chin. "Comfy?" he asked with a smile.
"Very."
"Good...you should get some rest, Dare. Close your eyes, okay?"
"Don' wanna..." Darren whined. "Talk to me."
"About what?"
"I dunno...have I mentioned that I am really, really high? I'm currently seeing two of you. It's kinda awesome."
"Yes, you may have mentioned that once or twice," Chris answered wryly. "Two Chris Colfers, huh? Whatever would the world do?"
"Umm, be 100% more awesome?" Darren said as if the answer was obvious.
"Oh really now?"
Darren let out a big yawn, his eyelids starting to droop a little bit, even as he tried to fight it.
"See, Dare? You are tired," Chris crowed triumphantly.
"Ugh stupid body and it's stupid awful timing... I wanted a Colfer story," Darren groaned.
"Rain check," Chris whispered. "Close your eyes."
"Fii-iine," Darren huffed. Chris started carding his fingers through Darren's hair again, causing Darren to let out an appreciative moan.
"Mmhmm, that feels good," Darren mumbled.
"Shh, go to sleep," Chris directed, glad that Darren's eyes were closed so that he couldn't see him blushing.
"Now I see why people do drugs and then have sex..." Darren rambled.
"Darren, trust me whe I say that you really, really want to stop talking now. You'll thank me later."
"It's true though," Darren protested.
"Go to sleep."
"Chris?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
"Anytime."
Darren was quiet for a while and Chris assumed he'd finally fallen asleep. But then his voice pierced the silence of the hospital room, quieter and more tentative than before.
"Chris?"
"Yeah, Dare?"
"On a scale of 1 to 10, how big of a baby was I today? Like just wimpy or unforgiveably unmanly?"
"How about none of the above... You were fine, Darren. Don't worry about it."
"You can tell me the truth. I'm high...probably won't remember it later."
"I am telling you the truth. You did great, Darren. Better than I could have imagined given the circumstances, okay?"
"Really?"
"Really."
Darren was quiet for another minute and then he started chuckling.
"That doesn't sound like sleeping, Darren. What's so funny?"
"You totally sang Mulan to me. In front of witnesses, no less."
"I did," Chris agreed, smiling at the memory. "Although it wasn't witnesses plural. Just one witness. That somehow makes it more acceptable in my mind."
"Hey Chris, I did good today? Really?" Darren asked again.
"Yes Darren, you did good," Chris repeated, shaking his head with bemusement.
"Was I as swift as a coursing river?"
"Darren..."
"With all the force of a great typhoon?"
"I swear to god..."
"Did I have all the strengh of a raging fire?"
"...if you don't stop, I'll sick Jenny on you again," Chris warned, even as he couldn't suppress a helpless giggle.
"Just one more..." Darren said, giddy.
"Oh my god, no Darren. For the record, you weren't as mysterious as the dark side of moon," Chris snarked back.
Darren laughed hysterically at that, literally clapping his hands with glee.
"You're ridiculous..."
"Jus' one of my many charms," Darren replied, yawning again.
"Now for the love of god, will you close your eyes and get some sleep?" Chris asked, feigning exasperation.
"I guess..." Darren sighed, letting his eyes slide shut.
"Night, Dare," Chris said softly.
"Night Chris...love you," Darren mumbled.
And before Chris could even process what Darren had said or try to respond, Darren was out, snoring slightly as the drugs pulled him under once again.
End Chapter Note: Aww, aren't our boys adorable? I just love writing CrissColfer banter and writing drugged up Darren may be my new favorite thing in the world. I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you wanted to send me a review or PM and let me know what you think, that would be lovely. I also really, really love it when readers ask me questions about my fics or just want to discuss what they've read.
Finally, I've got some good news and some bad news for you. The good news? I've already started on the next chapter. The bad news (for you, not for me) - I'm leaving for Hawaii for my sister's wedding on Thursday and won't be back until the 22nd. So realistically, I doubt there will be another update until I'm back. But who knows...I do have a 12 hour flight each way, so maybe inspiration will strike while I'm traveling and I'll update from the beach, margarita in hand. As Darren Criss would say, never say never.