Blaine woke up that morning feeling like he had swallowed a kitten. A really, really mean kitten that scratched his throat up on the way down to his tummy. With a groan, Blaine rolled over onto his stomach, coughing as he curled up into his spider-man comforter. He peered out of his half-shut eyes over at the window across from the bed. Sunlight was pouring through the window, illuminating the small piles of clothing and toys scattered about his messy bedroom. Why is it so bright outside, he thought groggily. He'd been having the nicest dream about Kurt. They'd been playing house in a castle made of ice cream. It was awesome and Kurt looked really cute with his face all smeared with strawberry ice cream. It kind of matched the blush he got every time Blaine kissed his cheek when they said goodbye. As he attempted to contemplate the brightness outside of his window and recall his dream, his mother walked in with a thermometer and a glass of orange juice.
"Good morning, baby. How do you feel." Blaine wiggled into a sitting position and grabbed the juice from his mother, thirstily sucking down the glass in a few long gulps. With a smile, he licked his lips and attempted to reply. To his dismay, all that came out was a short squeak that sounded similar to the word he'd been trying to say. Embarrassed, Blaine buried his head in his mother's blouse. His mother tsked and gently took the little boy's chin in her hand.
"Open up Blainey." She cooed, pointing the thermometer in his general direction. Blaine grunted a protest and scowled at the evil looking instrument.
"Blaine...come on sweetheart, I need to take your temperature." Blaine continued glaring at the thermometer and shook his head wildly. His mother sighed.
"Well I guess you can't go see Kurt tomorrow for your playdate." Blaine's mouth fell open in protest to which she thrust the thermometer in. Blaine struggled a bit as his mother pulled him close, keeping the thermometer under his tongue. Blaine whimpered as the cold metal was retracted a few moments later.
"102.6. You are one sick little boy. Can you show mommy where it hurts, baby?" Blaine's mother placed a cooling hand to Blaine's feverish forehead and he moaned at the comforting contact. Blaine placed his hands on his throat and attempted to speak again, a strangled noise between a squeak and a shout bursting forth. In frustration, Blaine flailed a bit, knocking the forgotten juice glass onto the floor.
"Oh Blaine, settle down. We're gonna go see Dr. Ryerson in a little bit, okay?" Blaine nodded his head slightly and lifted up his arms as his mother pulled his pyjama top up over his head.
Within the next half-hour, Blaine and his mother walked past the receptionist desk at the Lima Pediatrics office.
"Good morning, I'm here to see Dr. Ryerson." His mother smiled at the receptionist.
"Of course, Mrs. Anderson. He'd been expecting you both." The receptionist looked down at Blaine, who was still rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
"Good morning, Blaine. I hope you feel better." The dark-haired little boy look up the receptionist, his large brown eyes attempting to focus on the woman in question. Eventually he gave up and settled on a grim smile and a nod. They were quickly ushered into a room and awaited the arrival of Dr. Ryerson. Blaine sat on top of the bench with the funny, noisy paper and his mother sat a distance from him in a plastic chair against the wall. Blaine made a face as he stroked his fingers over the white paper under neath him. He did NOT want to be here. He wanted to be in school with Kurt. He glanced around for a window to tell what time it was. It had to be at least snack time at school. And he wouldn't get to sit by Kurt at the table. What if that mean boy, Dave, came and sat by Kurt? And what if Kurt liked sitting next to him so much he played with him outside and held hands with him at nap. Blaine frowned and tried to push the thoughts out of his head just as the door opened.
"What seems to be the problem with my favorite little crooner?" Dr. Ryerson questioned, placing a hand on his hip. Blaine grinned and waved at him despite the pain in his throat.
"He woke up today with a horrible sore throat and a fever. I tried to get him to tell me what hurt but it seems his throat is so swollen he can't talk." His mother answered sounding rather dismayed. Dr. Ryerson walked over to Blaine and told him to open wide. Extracting what looked like a Popsicle stick from the pocket of his coat, he placed it on his tongue.
"Just as I thought. It's his tonsils. They'll have to be removed." Blaine's mother broke her careful composure for a second and squawked at the suggestion.
"Removed? But he isn't even five yet, Dr. Ryerson. Isn't he a little young?" Dr. Ryerson, who had busied himself by check Blaine's heartbeat with his stethoscope, glanced back at her.
"Mrs. Anderson, the poor dear can't even talk. And he is certainly old enough to be placed under anesthesia. Besides, you know Blaine. He is a strong healthy child. He will be just fine provided we get this taken care of as soon as possible." Dr. Ryerson smiled at the little boy on the table and bent down to address him.
"Blaine, we're gonna make your throat feel better but you're going to have to go to the big white building next door and take a nap for a little while, okay?" Blaine looked confused and Dr. Ryerson sighed.
"And after we get you all fixed up, I bet you'll get to drink those red cherry slushies you love so much. What do you think of that Blainey boy?" Blaine bounced up excitedly and nodded his head. With a laugh, Dr. Ryerson picked Blaine up off the table and placed him on the floor.
"I'll call over next door and get him set up. They should have him under in about an hour, provided the surgery board is still mostly clean like it was when I checked this morning."
Blaine woke up in a strange bed several hours later. His throat still felt sore and his head felt a little fuzzy. His mother was sitting in a chair next to the bed, her eyes shut and chest moving slowly up and down. Blaine made a disgruntled noise as he shifted in the bed. The green t-shirt he'd been wearing had been replaced with some sort of thin, white dress. Oh no! Blaine panicked as he pulled at the material. Did they make me a girl? He pulled up the gown and breathed easier when he saw everything seemed to still be in working order down there. Hearing her son's stirrings woke Blaine's mother from her repartee.
"Hi sweetie. Do you feel any better?" Blaine nodded slightly. His mother dug through the plastic bag that was sitting on the floor and pulled out a lion king coloring book and some crayons.
"Here you are, baby. Mommy's going to go grab you something to drink from the cafeteria. Behave yourself while I'm gone." She quipped pressing a kiss to his nose as he spread the coloring book out over his lap. Within minutes she returned clutching a cup of coffee and one of the slushies Dr. Ryerson had promised. Blaine laughed a little and took the cold drink, eagerly pressing his lips around the straw. A little while later, Blaine's mother patted him on the back. Blaine looked up from his half-colored flower and at his mother, who was smiling.
"Blaine, you have a visitor." Blaine looked over the edge of the bed to see Kurt holding a little bouquet of red daisies.
"Kurt!" Blaine rasped as Kurt ran to his bedside. His father, who had been standing behind him, snatched the flowers out of the four year old's grasp, quickly depositing them in a vase and setting them on Blaine's bed side table. Kurt, who had some how managed to crawl up on the bed with Blaine didn't exactly look the picture of relief and happiness Blaine had envisioned. Kurt's eyes had narrowed and he actually scowled down at Blaine as he sat on Blaine's legs.
"Blaine Anderson you make me so mad!" Kurt crossed his arms across his chest and pouted at the confused boy underneath him.
"You don't come to school and leave me ALONE all day and then I find out you could've DIED. I am NOT happy with you mister." Kurt prodded Blaine in the chest a few times for emphasis before his father could pull him off.
"Hey, hey take it easy on him, buddy. Blaine's had a busy day." His father placed Kurt next to Blaine's bed on the floor.
"Now if you can be nice to Blaine, Mrs. Anderson and I are going to go grab some coffee. I mean it Kurt, you behave." Kurt nodded his head as the adults headed out the door, shaking with silent fits of laughter.
"I'm sorry I left you alone and made you sad." A voice came from the bed. Kurt slowly climbed up the bed again and curled up next to Blaine.
"Is okay. I was just scared, Blaine." Blaine frowned and placed a hand on Kurt's hand.
"I know. I was too." Kurt frowned.
"What happened?" Blaine sighed and opened his mouth. Kurt sat up on his knees and squealed at the sight.
"Blaine! That little wiggly thing is gone!" Kurt's hands flew to his own throat as though just seeing Blaine's scars would cause him some as well.
Blaine nodded grimly.
"I know. But my throat hurt real bad and now it feels a little better. I think the wiggly thing was making it hurt." Blaine nodded matter of factly.
Kurt sighed exasperatedly at the statement.
"I can't kiss something better that isn't there, Blaine." He huffed and crossed his arms. Blaine shrugged.
"It's okay, I don't need kisses. I feel better now that you're here. I missed you today." Kurt's scowl softened.
"I missed you too. Mercedes is really fun, but I like you a whole lot more. I missed holding your hand at nap time." Kurt frowned and Blaine sat up a little.
"Well, maybe we can take a nap here. That way it's kinda like at school only we don't have our mats and I have to wear this stupid dress." Kurt giggled, noticing the hospital gown for the first time.
"I like it. It makes you look sweet." Blaine rolled his eyes and patted the bed next to him. Kurt crawled up the side of the bed until he was right next to Blaine. He sunk down on the soft pillow and took the hand stretched out next to him.
"I'm glad your okay but no more getting sick." Kurt muttered his eyes fluttering closed.
"Me too. I promise not to get sick anymore. It's my job to make sure you aren't sad, ever." Blaine hummed, pulling Kurt close to him, closer than they ever were at naptime.
"I can't be sad as long as I gots you, Blaine." Kurt whispered.
Mrs. Anderson and Mr. Hummel walked back in the room to find Kurt lying next to Blaine, sound asleep. Both boys were on their stomachs with Blaine's small arm was wrapped around Kurt's waist. And both boys shared the same contented smile as they snuggled even closer in their sleep