D: It rained for 8 hours today. And I nearly forgot I mentioned I'd upload the next bits.
And thank you for reviewing, it's nice you take time to write a comment. :) Oh and adding it to favorite stories, etc.
Warnings: Language, mention of blood and infections, hospitals. Blaine being cute (should that be a warning?)
The next morning, Kurt had eaten his toast and drank his orange juice and was upstairs in his bathroom adjusting his shirt before slipping his cardigan on. The blazer was one option that he usually went with when he was having one of those days. Apparently he was having one all semester and no one noticed, not even him.
His sunscreen tube slipped out of his hands and bounced off the edge of the vanity; he made a grab for it and smashed his wrist hard against the vanity's sharp corner.
Pain shot up his arm and he let out an unmanly screech. "Gaga dammit!"
"Kurt? Is something wrong?" He heard his dad coming down the hallway. Tossing the stupid tube of sunscreen lotion on the vanity he met his dad in his room. "No, I just smacked my wrist good and hard against – "
"Kurt, you're bleeding, let me have a look." Burt said guiding him downstairs where they had a well stocked first aid kit in the kitchen catch all drawer. With two men living in a house, there were bound to be some kind of accident especially in the kitchen with knives and fire…
"Stupid lotion is making me bleed all over my cardigan." Kurt was glad he got up early this morning, injuring himself was a sign.
"Kurt." He was seated at the kitchen table with his sleeve pushed up to his elbow.
Shit. He had meant to say something about his soul mate mark but didn't.
His dad was holding his forearm down just staring at the blood streaked skin. "When did it start?"
The brunette winced and looked away from the large hand against his skin. "A few weeks ago. It started as an itch so I thought it was just a change in the weather and would use some lotion on it…" Kurt said lamely. He should've said something early but his mind was on other more important things.
School for instance.
"You should've said something, those creams and whatever you use, they'll irritate the mark." Burt said slightly exasperated at his kid's behavior regarding the mark. "We should get your doctor to fill you out a prescription. There's a lotion that helps even out the skin around the area otherwise it'll leave scars."
His stomach dropped. Scars were cool but certainly not on him. "Will I get them now? I can't have ugly skin, everyone will see!"
Burt rolled his eyes, a gesture that would've startled Kurt seeing it on someone else; he would do it so often that it was a little strange seeing it on his dad. "No, but it would've been better to have started a prescription as soon as it happened."
The older man glanced at the clock on their surprisingly unused microwave shoved in the corner of the kitchen counter then grabbed the small plastic bag of gauze out of the kit. "Go wash your wrist off then I'll wrap it. I'll make an appointment for this afternoon and I'll text you the time during your lunch hour." Burt said getting up to find Kurt's doctor's number taped with other emergency numbers in the kitchen cabinet by the fridge.
"Dad, I can go on my own," Kurt said quickly rising and going to the kitchen sink.
Burt shook his head. "Uh-uh, you obviously need someone to hold your hand with this." He waved a hand and dialed the hospital's appointment extension.
Kurt made a face as he shook out his arm over the sink. His wrist stung uncomfortably in air and with gentle hands, Burt wrapped up his wrist and secured it with some medical tape.
"Yes, I'd like to make an appointment for my son." Burt said into the phone releasing Kurt's arm. "He's seventeen, last name is Hummel, first name is Kurt."
Kurt sat back down at the table and pouted as his dad talked with the receptionist. "Alright, appointment at one thirty? That's the earliest? Okay, thank you, buh-bye."
He hung up and give Kurt a shrug. "Today at one-thirty. I think you know your way to the Lima Community Hospital so I'll meet you there at one-fifteen or so."
Kurt wanted to protest and would have preferred to go by himself. "Right. I'll write you an excuse so bring it to the administration offices."
Kurt arrived at school just as the warning bell rang and he headed first to the office to drop his excuse off. He had Gym after a forty five minute lunch so he lucked out not getting stuck in the locker room. Shit. Blaine and he were in about half their classes and he was going to be skipping out on him.
He went to his science class and waved the green slip of paper at the teacher who pointed at the free desk next to Blaine who shot him a questioning look.
Kurt sat down and pulled out his book and notebook. "Busy morning?" Blaine nudged his shoe under the double seated table. Kurt nodded slightly and felt the skin on the wrist tug on the firmly wrapped gauze.
The teacher began writing on the white board and Kurt slipped into his student mindset.
After science was dismissed, Kurt and Blaine headed to the fine arts building by the theater. "I have a doctor's appointment after lunch." Kurt said going along with the flow of students. He enjoyed art but wasn't particularly fond of pastels which they were using for the next several weeks until a new unit was started by Miss Tapping, one of the four art teachers.
All the teachers were rotated each semester so Kurt shared Mr. Hayes's class with Tina who had skipped both art and science last year. Rachel was stuck with Mr. Hammond who did more of an art history class that described techniques of various artists through the ages. It was a dry and boring class and Kurt was relieved that the teacher had retired last year after forty years of teaching.
"Really? Are you okay?" Blaine's golden eyes were alight with concern. "Are you sick?"
Kurt snorted elegantly as they entered the classroom. Short easels were set up two to a table with a boxed set of pastels laid perfectly straight to the table's edge. Apparently Miss Tapping was a little obsessive about how the art supplies were handled. Their first class with the teacher was not only about what was going to be taught but how each brush, pastel, pencil, paper and canvas among the few items they were going to be using, should be treated with respect that was so deserved.
She was a little nutty but Miss Tapping was a genuinely nice person.
"I'm fine, nothing out of the normal." Kurt replied with a slight shrug sitting down by the window; he preferred the natural light even though he didn't like pastels all that much.
"That's a relief." Blaine said taking out the sketch boards and placing it on the easel.
Lunch rolled in and then out with Kurt and Blaine sharing the table in the corner again; this time it was covered in dried out slushie puddles that still were disgustingly tacky so the usual napkin tablecloths were spread out on the surface.
"Another thirty minutes and I'm out of here!" Kurt said under his breath as he ducked from the chocolate milk carton thrown his direction. "Take me with you?" Blaine mock begged before shoveling some of his watermelon chunks into his mouth.
"No can do, Mr. Anderson, confidential and all. But I'll be here tomorrow because I can't get away from this place." Kurt said briskly biting into his cheese and tomato sandwich.
"You're no fun. So, with auditions coming up, which part are you hoping to get?" Blaine asked glancing at the athletes table on the opposite side of the room. He was becoming aware of where he was stood in the status quo and it wasn't at the top. Kurt could almost sympathize with him except he was always on the bottom of the school's social ladder and it was nice to have new company.
"I dunno." Kurt made a face. "I'll end up with a bit part if I do audition."
Blaine choked on his fruit and choked for a few minutes. "What? If you do audition?"
Kurt shrugged and picked up his sandwich and inspected it closely just to have something to do. "There's no hope in getting your heart set on the larger roles, Blaine. Rachel and Finn always get them and Finn is only in the club so Rachel can play opposite to him."
He couldn't help zeroing on the boy in question from around the pillar partially blocking their table from view. Finn was the tallest person at the table which was surrounded by Tina, Mike, Sam, Mercedes and of course, Rachel.
"With me sounding the way I do, I don't ever have a chance. It's not like Broadway has many countertenors singing lead and Mr. Schuester would never do anything to make his precious star unhappy." Kurt rolled his eyes and finished off his sandwich in two bites. He unscrewed the lid to his stainless steel thermos he filled with lemon iced tea and gulped down a couple mouthfuls. It was his own blend of honey and extra lemon to bagged tea he made his dad buy. They had to make another grocery run soon, they were running out of fresh food.
"Why is she so, you know?" Blaine asked following Kurt's lead and drinking his water he brought with him from home.
Kurt sighed and started popping the lid off the box containing thick slice of banana bread from the local bakery he had hoarded from his dad the day before. "Mr. Schuester had aspirations to be a Broadway star just like Rachel. During our freshman year we managed to get to Nationals in New York City. Mr. Schuester got sidelined by his dreams of being on Broadway and we came in twelfth place."
"And now he sees Rachel succeeding where he had failed." Blaine finished his watermelon and started his spinach and turkey sandwich with a cranberry spread. It smelled delicious and reminded Kurt of Thanksgiving dinner which was coming up next month. He would have to figure out what his meal plan would be since it was usually just Kurt cooking and his dad watching the sports game.
A thought entered his mind, I wonder what Blaine is doing for Thanksgiving dinner… or lunch.
"Exactly. I mean, Mercedes and Santana have amazing voices that deserve to be showcased. Tina has been in the club since it was revived about four years ago and hasn't had one single solo during any of the talent shows or musicals we put on. It isn't fair for anyone except Rachel."
Blaine was very somber after that.
The lunch bell rang and Kurt and Blaine quickly packed their containers and thermoses away then headed down the main corridor.
"I'll talk to you later tonight alright?" Blaine rested a hand on Kurt's arm. He nodded a little speechless at the simple gesture. The dark haired boy ducked into the class room for his AP Math class.
Kurt headed to his locker in a slight daze and grabbed the books he needed for homework and then hurried out to his car before he could get caught by any teachers lingering in the halls. The school didn't have hall monitors, just the resident cheerleading coach Sue Sylvester who was quite literally an acid tongued woman that hated everyone that didn't agree with her.
Parking in the hospital's lot after a twenty minute drive, Kurt took a moment to calm himself.
Every time he went to this particular hospital (not that there was a lot of choice in Lima), it was always difficult.
When his mom died, she died at the Lima Community hospital.
When his dad had that heart attack part way through his freshman year, he was in a coma at the Lima Community Hospital.
The place didn't give him warm fuzzy feelings.
His phone buzzed and Kurt realized he was sitting in the lot for about five minutes. "Shit," he muttered grabbing his book bag and hurrying to the hospital entrance.
Wrist throbbing in time to his footsteps, he spotted his dad inside the reception area speaking to one of the administrator's at the front desk.
"Hey Kurt, I was just about to shoot you a text." His dad said giving a brief nod to the young woman wearing a phone headset. The two of them headed to the elevator to the third floor where the pediatrics level was. There was an area for teen services which is where the pair was supposed to go.
Thankfully the waiting room was empty aside from a couple of parents holding their sleeping kids on the other side of the large room.
"Hi, my son has an appointment with Doctor Fisher." Burt's voice interrupted his perusal of the waiting room. "Right, I'll let the doctor know, please have a seat."
They settled into the ugly padded chairs and waited. Kurt was quiet and slightly nervous about what the doctor was going to say. Normally a friendly chat with the doctor about 'growing up' was cringe worthy, survivable but still uncomfortable because adults talking about sex is just, no; Especially with his dad in the same room even though he had offered to go hang out in the waiting room.
"Kurt Hummel?" A semi-familiar man's voice broke him out of his thoughts. Wearing the typical white lab coat with his name stitched in blue thread over his heart, Doctor Ivy Fisher was the picture of a kindly middle aged man with dark brown hair with strands of silver and gentle sleepy looking eyes.
"Yeah, hi." Kurt gave an awkward wave. "And you must be the father, Burt. It's good to see you are well?"
Kurt offered a weak smile as he and his father followed the thin man to the examination room.
Once inside, Kurt handed his dad his book bag and hopped up on the paper covered padded table as the doctor snapped on a paper of rubber gloves.
"The notes from the receptionist stated you were getting your Soul Mate mark." The doctor stated scrolling through the form on the computer screen by the small desk shoved into the corner of the small room.
"Yeah, about a week and a half ago? I marked it off on the calendar on my phone." Kurt said slightly uncomfortable with the subject.
"What was the exact date?"
"Um," Kurt fumbled with his phone in his trouser pocket and checked the calendar. "It was the fifteenth."
The doctor typed that in before getting out of the office chair to the supply cabinet by the padded table Kurt was sitting on. He took out a sealed package of gauze, pair of safety scissors, white tape and put them all on a paper lined tray.
"Let me see your wrist." Doctor Fisher sat in his wheel chair and scooted close enough to examine Kurt's injury. "I've seen plenty of young people's soul mate tattoos developing at different stages but I have a feeling…"
He carefully cut through the multiple layers of gauze and tape around the boy's wrist and practically ripped off the top layer of his skin.
"Ouch!" Kurt jerked slightly and immediately apologized.
"No worries," the older man said using some cotton balls dipped in disinfectant to dab away the dried blood.
Burt was silent but glancing at him, Kurt could see the concern on his face. That's when he felt guilty, they wouldn't be here visiting the doctor if he had said something a week and a half ago.
"On a scale of one to ten, how much does it hurt?" Fisher asked turned Kurt's wrist slightly.
"It does hurt like a – " He blushed a little. "It's around a seven. This morning it wasn't that bad."
Fisher nodded. "I see, the mark shouldn't be nothing more than a throb, like a bruise. Judging from the color and the amount of pain you say you're having, you'll need an antibiotic cream and medication."
"Is that necessary doc?" Burt finally spoke up for the first time since they entered the room. "Not that I don't think you're capable."
"It's infected from lack of air circulation and from general dirt." The doctor said with a twist of his lips. "I understand about the need for a second opinion."
Kurt had a good look at his wrist wear his soul mate's name was supposed to be and felt more than a little sick at what he saw. The skin was a sickly yellow color and the rash was a weeping bloody mess despite the doctor cleaning it off with that cool disinfectant.
"I'll be giving you a prescription that will help you fight the infection." The doctor started re-wrapping the area with fresh gauze and tape. "Keep it wrapped in the shower and bath, no washing dishes if you don't use a dishwasher, and keep it dry."
He finished quickly and efficiently, dumping the used wrappings and his gloves in the trash and placing the scissors in the bin to be disinfected.
"This is a stronger version of your typical ibuprofen. It shouldn't give you any problematic side effects." Scribbling on a notepad, a little odd considering Kurt's hospital records were on the computer.
"Will that make him sleepy?" Burt asked taking the slip of paper. "He does drive to school."
"It shouldn't unless you are susceptible to other side effects from previous medications." The doctor pulled up Kurt's prescriptions. "Well, you haven't had many but do take note if you feel anything negative whether it be drowsiness or an increase in pain. We want your mark to be infection free so it won't affect the development of the name."
Kurt nodded and slid off the table with his throbbing hand cradled to his chest. It wasn't wrapped too tightly but just looking at it only moments ago made it hurt so much more. It didn't help that it was his dominant hand so that meant doing homework and eating was going to be tricky. He hoped he could get an extension on some of his homework if he couldn't type his essays and reflections for his classes.
"Placing pressure on it is not recommended, nor is anything hot like a heating pad." Doctor Fisher said hitting a few keys on the computer. "I know you probably do a lot of typing and with lap tops not being entirely ergonomic, I'll write you a doctor's excuse for the rest of the week so please take care."
"Yes, Doctor." Kurt slipped his book bag on his shoulder with his left hand. Burt folded up the scrawled doctor's note and put it in his shirt pocket. "If there's any problems with the medication or the cream, don't hesitate to call or drop me an email. I check it several times a day."
The two Hummels left with the prescriptions, doctor's excuse for Kurt's teachers, and an appointment for the following Tuesday so the doctor could examine his wrist again. Kurt was could hardly wait.
Inside the hospital's pharmacy on the first floor, Kurt and his dad scarcely shared a word with each other. It was a serious topic and Burt thankfully had the sense not to say anything that would be awkward and uncomfortable for his kid. He really was the world's greatest dad.
It was another ten minutes before Kurt's full name appeared on the ticker tape above the five attending pharmacists and once he got the two white paper bags with his medicine, the pair headed to their cars.
"I'll see you at home later today." Burt said firmly. "I don't need to tell you to keep your phone nearby so don't hesitating to call me if you need anything. I'll handle dinner tonight."
Kurt nodded clutching the small bags in his bad hand. "Nothing bad for you, Dad." His dad nodded a bit reluctantly. "Pizza, but that thin crust healthy stuff."
He'll take his success where he could; at least his dad wasn't getting the meat lover's pizza with extra cheese on it. After his health scare a few years ago, Kurt was insistent on changing his dad's diet to healthier options. He tried to get him to eat salads and vegetables but it was a difficult change to make happen. So it was more of substitution instead of completely overhauling the fridge. No more gas station snacks or greasy burgers for lunch three to four times a week.
"Good. And thank you for this." Kurt fluttered his injured hand a little and regretted it when a shiver of pain went up his arm. "Ow, bad idea doing that."
"Go home Kurt, take your medicine and use that-' his dad pointed at the bags in his hand. "Stuff on your wrist immediately. And read the information too."
They went their separate ways, Burt returning to the shop and Kurt obeying his dad and heading home.
What he didn't expect to see was Blaine sitting in his car a few doors down from his house.
The boy was sitting inside his car messing around on his phone. Kurt tapped on his window causing him to start a little.
"Kurt!" He exclaimed, his voice a little muffled through the glass. Kurt moved aside and Blaine got out of the car with his school bag in hand.
Kurt sighed and shrugged to himself. "Did you want to come inside?" He was a little tired and wasn't going to be good company. Frankly he wanted to wash up, take his medicine with a sandwich and then go to sleep.
He had some healing to do. "Look, Blaine, I don't think I'm up to guests right now and…"
Blaine looked at him understandingly. "I just wanted to make sure that you were alright."
Kurt smiled slightly. "You could've called me?"
The boy blushed, his cheeks turning a light pink. "I know I just wanted to see you."
There was a long awkward moment that lasted several minutes before Kurt sighed again and shifted his bag (and the medicine packets tucked under his arm), "Why don't you come inside then? My dad won't be home for a while." He winced a little at the meaning of his words and was sure he turned bright red.
"Thanks, I won't stay too long; I've got a family dinner thing I'm stuck going to." Blaine followed him up the paved path to the front door. "One of my dad's business colleagues is coming with his wife and daughter who happen to be our age."
"Oh?" Kurt said with raised eyebrows. "Is this a bad thing?"
Blaine rolled his eyes and unwound his scarf around his neck. "Yes. I can't stand dinners where I'm supposed to pretend to be someone else. I'm gay; I'm fine with it but my parents…"
"They don't accept you?" Kurt's throbbing wrist was forgotten for the moment. He couldn't imagine his own dad not accepting him for what he was. Sure they didn't have a lot to talk about with Kurt not really caring about sports or girls like the typical hetero-normative guy. Despite their differences, Kurt was still his son and his dad was still his dad.
"My mom is still in denial and it's been about a few months since I came out to them." Blaine explained looking disappointed. Blaine sat at the kitchen table and fiddled with his scarf's fringe with tanned hands. "My dad had no idea and is probably kicking me out the moment I graduate high school."
"Wow. As much as my dad doesn't understand the whole gay thing," Kurt offered the boy a diet coke which he took and popped open. "I mean, he's from that generation where it was okay to call his friends a fag or stop being a sissy."
Kurt turned to grab his school bag. "I'll be right back, I just need to unload these books." Blaine nodded then looked down at the table where he was slowly turning the can in his hands.
He raced upstairs to his bathroom where he kicked off his shoes, stripped his uniform off throwing it on top his vanity chair. Dressing himself in loose lounge pants he wouldn't leave the house in unless it was on fire and a long sleeved shirt, he read the instructions on paper (Take one pill with food) and gulped down a glass of water and the small white pill.
Magic pills these were not, his wrist was throbbing worse than ever and to make matters worse, his phone chimed with a new message.
Message from: Broadway Spirit.
Hello again. I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time but I hope you're feeling better. :)
Kurt went downstairs with his phone tucked into the pull over's kangaroo pocket, the long sleeves an extra precaution against Blaine spotting the bandage around his wrist. The last thing he wanted was his pity over his stupid and very preventable injury. Plus he did like Blaine but that didn't mean he could accidently let slip that Kurt was getting his soul mate mark and it got infected.
Of all the rumors that could drive a person to self-harm, anything negative relating a person's sexuality and their soul mate mark. He remembered the old story told every single time a connection was made with someone's soul mate within the school was of a student that hadn't a soul mate. It was embarrassing for them and their family that the story goes that they ended up hanging themselves in their closet. Whether this was true or not (the family had reportedly moved away and no one seen the student again) it was a secret horror of Kurt's and he had discussed it at length with Rachel during her rare moments of sanity.
She hadn't got her soul mate mark that he knew of and he was certain that he and the rest of the school would know when she did.
As much as he disliked Rachel's behavior, he wouldn't want her to live her life without her soul mate whether it was Finn or not.
"Back, did you miss me?" Kurt said instinctively using the long loose sleeves to cover the stark white gauze.
"Always." Blaine said looking up from the braids he had been twisting into his fringed scarf. "Are you okay?"
Kurt blinked and went to get his own can of soda he left on the counter thankful that he had to turn his back on the boy at the table. "Fine aside from the essay I'm going to have to bullshit my way through for geography."
Blaine made an understanding scrunched up face. "I know what you mean, I've got to do mine and I was planning on doing it tonight but I have to make nice with Brianna or whatever her name is."
"That's right…" Kurt said slowly opening the fridge and getting out the big bowl of fruit salad he had prepared the night before. He would have to add a banana as well, he thought grabbing one from the stand by the kitchen sink.
"Yeah, I figured my mom would be having some business dinner at her office to discuss whatever and my dad would have to eat lunch at his office too because there's no point in our housekeeper making dinner for just me. But now there's the three of us plus this other family." Blaine gulped some soda and gasped at the burn in his throat.
Quickly chopping the banana after dumping the peel in the trash, I offered him a bowl which he declined with a shake of the head. "It looks good but I've got to actually eat tonight; I skipped out on the last two dinners which made my dad really angry."
"Oh, that sucks." Kurt said sitting down and digging in. He was starving and he guessed being nervous kind of gave him an appetite. While he was eating, he was very aware of how he was resting his wrist on the table. All the acting tricks he had read about and saw in the plays at the community theater were put into use as he tried to keep a straight calm face instead of wanting to wince every time he accidentally bumped the affected area on the table.
"Are you sure you're okay? You have this weird look on your face." Blaine broke when there was a lull in the conversation.
"I'm fine, there's nothing wrong." Kurt said biting into a slice of orange and peach. Juice dribbled over his lips and down his chin. "Apparently I'm a messy eater."
He dropped the fork and reached for a napkin from the rabbit napkin caddy on the table.
"Kurt, what happened?!" Blaine exclaimed staring at his arm with widened eyes, his triangle shaped eyebrows in danger of disappearing into that overly gelled hair of his.
He choked and started coughing to get the fruit stuck in his throat out. Tears rolling down his cheek, Blaine jumped out of his chair to pat Kurt on the back. "Sorry, I just," He said sounding frustrated.
"It's nothing, it's nothing!" Kurt rasped once he caught his breath. "It's going to be fine!"
Blaine pulled out the chair closest to him and sat down. He took a clean napkin and wiped away the tear tracks and then laid a gentle hand on Kurt's shoulder. "If you don't want to explain, I won't make you, but if something that you need help with then you can come to me if you want."
Kurt stared at him and cleared his throat quietly. He couldn't look away from Blaine's hazel eyes that were so full of concern and quiet determination. And something else that he remembered seeing at the library weeks ago: love.
Why?
"Not right now. Another time." Kurt said haltingly.
Blaine leaned back, taking his comforting hand with him, a loss that Kurt felt acutely.
"Alright. I should head home." Blaine checked the time on his phone. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."
Blaine grabbed his belongings and Kurt walked him to the door. "Bye Kurt."
"See you later, Blaine."
He shut the door; lingering slightly by the small window in the front door and watching the boy stride hesitantly down the sidewalk to his car a few doors down.
Blaine made him feel different. A good different but a different all the same.
To be continued... in Conversations. Now do you wonder who is Broadway Spirit? And what name will Kurt get? When will he get it?
By the way, the doctor in this part is a real person, my former (female) pediatrician actually. :)
