A/N: sorry this took such a while, I got distracted with (shitty) gifmaking and reading all the anderbros fics I could get my hands on, among other things. I don't think there are any warnings for this one, other than mentions of suicide and past violence and whatnot? Also, I know my hospital facts are sketchy; the mentioned hospital is real, but all knowledge of it stops there. Annnnd I actually have no idea the sort of meds people get after being injured as Blaine was after the attack, and my google research skills are not all that informative, so forgive me on that.
Many, many thanks to all the people who have reviewed and favorited, it really means so much!
Enjoy!
Kurt's not sure how to make sense of what the hell is happening. He tries to tick things off a mental list as Blaine drives, stony-faced and silent, not meeting Kurt's eyes.
1. Quinn is in critical condition at Lima Memorial Hospital, a fifteen minute drive away.
2. Blaine has a brother.
3. Blaine, at one point, had been so hopeless that he swallowed an entire bottle of Codeine.
4. The previously mentioned Brother Anderson was the one who had hit Quinn.
The list, rather than helping Kurt clear his mind, jumbles everything up even further and he's left wondering why the hell circumstance and coincidence had decided to fuck them over so completely. Kurt closes his eyes, pressing his forehead briefly against the cool glass of the window. Too much confusion pounds in his skull, a throbbing pressure behind his eyes.
He chances a quick glance at Blaine, and his boyfriend is absolutely rigid; tight lips, tight shoulders, tight fingers, and even tighter eyes. There's none of Blaine's warmth anymore, none of the exuberant joy and confidence that Blaine radiated and Kurt fell in love with.
"Blaine?" he says softly, fisting his hands in the fabric of his tux jacket, discarded in his lap. Blaine's eyes flicker off the road, meeting Kurt's for the briefest of instants. They warm just slightly, Arctic Ocean rather than polar ice cap.
"Are you okay?" Kurt whispers, and he sees Blaine's lips tremble.
"I don't know." Blaine replies shakily, and Kurt lets out a yelp as Blaine suddenly jerks the wheel to the right, bringing the car to an abrupt stop on the side of the road. Blaine's hands clench white-knuckled on the steering wheel and Kurt reaches out to him hesitantly, wanting to comfort Blaine but unsure how, seeing as Blaine's just gaping like a landbound fish and won't say a word.
"Blaine, please," Kurt begs, and Blaine just bursts into these horrible, heart-wrenching tears, and Kurt is stunned, because, sure, he's seen Blaine cry before, on the auditorium stage after West Side Story, that one night a few weeks ago after Blaine's dad screamed in Blaine's face and called him a fag, but never like this. These are sobs, taking over Blaine's entire body, rocking him back and forth, and Kurt's fucking powerless to stop it.
"Blaine…" Kurt whispers, leaning across the console and touching every part of Blaine he can reach, brushing his thumb over Blaine's cheek, running his fingers through Blaine's stiff hair, dropping a panicked kiss to Blaine's forehead.
"Blaine, honey, talk to me," Kurt says softly, rubbing his hand over Blaine's shuddering shoulders. Blaine struggles with the seatbelt tightening around his neck, letting out a cry of frustration choked with tears and slamming his fist down on the latch. Kurt grabs Blaine's hands in his, calmly releasing Blaine's seatbelt. Blaine lunges over the console to curl into Kurt's side, still sobbing, and Kurt wraps his arms around the younger boy, holding tight tight tight.
"That stupid asshole," Blaine growls into Kurt's neck, and it's strange, hearing the insult come from Blaine's mouth; never once has Blaine outwardly said wrong about another person. Not about Sebastian, who had nearly cost Blaine his eye, not even about Mr. Anderson, who still insists on calling Kurt Blaine's "friend." And now, this older brother that Kurt has never even heard of before has reduced Blaine to furious tears and insults laced with profanities. Kurt doesn't necessarily consider himself the violent type, but he's sure he wouldn't mind taking a swing at this Cooper Anderson for making Blaine hurt so much.
"I'm – I'm fine," Blaine gasps finally against Kurt's collarbone, and Kurt doesn't even spare a thought for the state of his crisp white dress shirt, crumpled and wet with tears beneath Blaine's fists. He smoothes Blaine's hair back from his damp forehead, still making soft "shh"-ing sounds. Blaine gulps in wet, shuddering breaths and stammers, "I'm okay, it's just a lot to take in all at once…"
Blaine's long lashes droop with tears and he rubs a shaking hand over his cheeks. Kurt squeezes Blaine's shoulder gently, still reeling slightly and unsure of what to say now that Blaine's sobs have subsided.
"God, Kurt, I'm –" Blaine pulls himself back, sliding clumsily back into his own seat and rubbing his eyes furiously. "I'm sorry, that was ridiculous, you shouldn't have seen –"
"Blaine," Kurt says sharply, and Blaine seems to swallow his tongue, staring down at his lap with swollen, swimming eyes. "Do not even think about crawling back into that dapper, unruffled shell of yours, Blaine Anderson." Kurt says fiercely, and Blaine's lips tremble with the barest hint of a smile.
"Talk to me," Kurt whispers, leaning towards Blaine to press a gentle kiss to Blaine's forehead. "Talk this through with me, please?"
Blaine nods jerkily, taking in a deep breath. "It's just a lot, all at once. I mean… this fight with my dad, and Dave trying to kill himself… and I haven't seen Cooper in months and now he's here and he's the one who almost killed Quinn? And – I don't know how to act, if I should be angry at him, or if I should just run into his arms like I always do, or –" Blaine breaks off with a frustrated hiss, dropping his hands heavily onto the steering wheel. Kurt considers his next words carefully, weighing them inside his head.
"Why don't we cross that bridge when we come to it?" he says hesitantly. "Let's get to the hospital, and you can find Cooper, and if you decide you want to punch him in the face, I'll hold his arms behind his back."
Blaine barks out a shaky laugh and turns to Kurt, eyes now brimming with gratitude instead of tears. "I love you. You always know what to do." And Kurt smiles, thinking of how he had thought the same thing about Blaine not twenty minutes ago, and wondering if Blaine knows that, on the inside, Kurt feels like he's falling apart, too.
"I love you, too. Now let me drive."
The smell of the hospital slaps Kurt in the face as they enter through the automatic doors into a rush of cold air and the scent of bleach. Kurt generally dislikes hospitals, but nearly losing his father in this same one has twisted his stomach into a quivering knot. He's almost afraid that if he turns around, he'll see his father in a barred bed again, see the IVs and the stuttering blip of the heart monitor. Kurt tries to steady himself, sucking in a deep breath that he imagines burns his throat with antiseptic, because he knows that's how he's going to see Quinn, and he has to stay strong for his friends, for Rachel and Finn and Quinn's mother, and for Blaine. Blaine, who is almost as pale as the white tile under his feet, who must be struggling to keep his face blank, free of the worry and pain that's surely lurking just beneath the surface. Blaine's eyes are still red-rimmed and swollen, but it won't seem unusual. Not here.
The ER waiting room is empty except for their friends and family, who look colorful and out of place in their wedding apparel. However, Rachel, thankfully, Kurt thinks, has changed out of her billowing wedding gown into something a little more nondescript. Kurt and Blaine hurry over and seat themselves on the sticky plastic chairs, keeping their hands firmly clasped. Burt reaches over to squeeze Kurt's knee, bald head shining under the glow of the fluorescent lights.
"You boys doing all right?" he asks lowly, gaze shifting between the two of them. Kurt nods, offering his father a strained smile. Burt nods and leans back to wrap a protective arm around Carole's sagging shoulders. Rachel, it seems, hasn't stopped crying since the phone call, her sobs muffled into Finn's shoulder, and Kurt bites his tongue to stop himself from snapping at her to pull herself together. They're all hurting. They're all scared. The only person who should be crying like that is Mrs. Fabray, who is instead sitting tight-jawed and emotionless, unmoved by Burt and Carole's murmured comforts.
"When will we get to see her?" Blaine asks softly, breaking the anxious silence. Mercedes moves from a distraught Santana's side to sit in the empty seat beside Blaine, leaning in to speak to them softly.
"Um, Mr. Schue said they just got her in, and they're still patching her up, so it'll be a while." Kurt nods slowly, eyes scanning the waiting room.
"Where are the rest of the boys?" Rory and Finn are the only other Glee Club boys present, and the absence of Mike, Sam, Artie, and especially Puck seems strange.
"Puck said he couldn't deal with it until he knew for sure she was going to be okay," Mercedes explains, her voice breaking a little. "They all carpooled to the wedding so Mike's driving Puck home and then they'll all be here."
Kurt nods again, dropping his gaze to his lap. He wishes he could do that, escape for a few hours of sanity, wait until the worst has passed. But Blaine's here, waiting for Cooper, and he can't leave Blaine.
The seconds stretch into minutes, pulling taut in the silence. Blaine's fingers drum agitatedly on Kurt's knee and Kurt doesn't have the heart to still them. Mr. Schue and Coach Sylvester talk softly between themselves, and Kurt is a little stunned to see that Sue is actually crying. He'd heard rumors about her successful impregnation and actual human emotions, but he wouldn't have believed it if he weren't seeing living proof. Seems like tragedy changes everyone.
Finally, just when Kurt thinks he might scream, a doctor brushes through the ER doors and hurries towards them, but the name they call isn't who Kurt was expecting.
"Blaine Anderson?" Blaine jumps visibly, and the first person he turns to is Kurt, staring at him with wide, panicked eyes.
"Why do they want me?" he whispers, and Kurt just shakes his head blankly. A dark thought twists itself into his head, but he doesn't want to say it, for fear that speaking it aloud will make it real.
"Blaine Anderson!" the doctor calls desperately, looking them all over, cheeks painted a flustered pink. All eyes turn to Blaine and Kurt gives Blaine's hand a quick squeeze, urging him up. Blaine rises, trembling at the knees, and relief slackens the doctor's face.
"Oh, thank god." she exclaims, putting a hand to her forehead and urging Blaine forward with the chart in her hand. "He was refusing care until we found you. I've been running around the entire damn ER trying to figure out who you are."
Kurt's stomach clenches even tighter, and he sees Blaine blink twice, utterly bewildered and trying to grasp what the doctor's saying. Blaine has just enough time to turn to Kurt, expression terrified and pleading before the doctor tugs him forward, past the double doors and into the cacophony of the ER beyond. The doors swing shut behind them and Kurt is left alone with dread pooling heavily in the pit of his stomach, wondering if things could possibly get any worse and listening to Rachel Berry's never-ending sobs.