Paul stopped outside of Sebastian's hospital room and rubbed a hand over his eyes, feeling exhausted. He looked through the narrow window in the door at Sebastian's sleeping frame. He had a temporary bandage wrapped around his hand. His face and arms were littered with scrapes and cuts. The deeper wounds had been treated with wound tape.
It had been a long day.
Paul had just walked through the door, in desperate need of his bed, when he'd gotten Marc's call. It had taken a moment for him to take in what his husband was saying.
There had been an attack at Satire. Sebastian was injured and an ambulance was on the way to take them to the hospital.
Paul had been out the door and back in his car in under three minutes.
He'd arrived at the hospital just before the ambulance and greeted a worried Marc and shell shocked Kurt from the back of the cab.
Sebastian had fallen unconscious again during the journey across town. Paul had not made any friends when he pulled rank on the paramedics before they had even transferred him to a stretcher, demanding to take him in and take his vitals again himself before calling in his team.
Shaking himself from his reverie, Paul opened the door and stepped into the room.
Kurt sat in a chair next to the bed, holding Sebastian's uninjured hand, his eyes fixed on Sebastian's face. Marc sat in another chair. He, too, was staring at Sebastian as if he was scared to blink in case something happened.
At the sight of his husband, Marc stood up and walked over to him. "What did they say?" he asked urgently. Kurt rose from his seat as well, looking anxious.
Sebastian stirred and groaned a little at the noise and Paul nodded towards the door, leading them from the room.
"His CT confirms the concussion. No hematomas or oedema, but he's going to have to stay in, for the rest of the night at least, maybe longer. They'll wake him up every hour to check his brain activity," Paul said. "We may take him to get an MRI tomorrow to check for nerve damage, based on tonight's findings."
Kurt whimpered and Marc put his hand on Kurt's shoulder.
"What about his hand?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
Paul sighed. "There's definite damage," he said. "The angle of his middle finger suggests the tendons are damaged. There could be fractures, but it's impossible to say anything about the severity of the injuries until the swelling goes down and a scan can be made. They cleaned the cuts, but if he needs surgery it has to wait until we can rule out internal haemorrhaging from the concussion. It's too dangerous to put him under right now. Maybe it can be done with local anaesthesia. I'll look at the scans myself and make the call."
Kurt shook his head. He couldn't listen. The only word that hit home was dangerous. He felt sick. All of this was his fault. He had picked the song, suggested moves; he'd wanted to get the audience as excited as they had. He had never anticipated this could happen, not in the place where he felt so at home. If only they'd tackled him instead, it would have been justified.
"Kurt?" Paul squeezed his shoulder.
"What?" Kurt asked, snapping out of his thoughts.
"Marc asked if you want to stay in the hospital overnight." Paul exchanged a glance with his husband. "Personally I think you'll be of more use in the morning if you've slept. I am going home too. I'm on call, but I already had a 12-hour shift and the dogs need to be let out."
Kurt looked back at the door, feeling desperate. "I want to stay."
Marc and Paul looked at each other. "I'm gonna stay too," Marc said, glancing at Kurt.
Paul sighed and nodded, stepping forwards to kiss his husband. "I'll be back at eight, call me if anything changes."
Marc nodded and squeezed Paul's hand. "Love you."
"I love you too," Paul said, kissing Marc again and squeezing Kurt's shoulder before walking away.
"He'll be okay, Kurt," Marc said softly.
Kurt made a noncommittal gesture, something between a shrug and a nod. He had heard all the hospital platitudes before. If Sebastian was okay, he wouldn't need to be kept overnight. A lot could happen in a few hours.
Marc nodded. He understood there was nothing he could say now that would relieve Kurt's fears. He opted for the next best. "Coffee?" he offered.
Kurt swallowed, clearing his throat. "Yes. Thank you." He didn't feel tired or thirsty, but it'd give them something to do.
"Sure, why don't you go back in there and I'll be along in a minute."
Kurt agreed and slipped back inside the room.
Marc watched Kurt's retreating back and stayed there, staring transfixed at the door. He backed up against the opposite wall and rested his head back against the cool surface. His eyes slipped closed and he suppressed a sob.
He'd been in the office with Joe when the attack happened and hadn't seen it. He'd never forget the feeling that had sunk in his gut when the red lights came on.
"So Kurt and Seb are in, and it sounded like Kurt already had a few ideas to get some of his friends involved... I think we should have a good show," Joe said to Marc. "Do you think Paul might stand up and talk? I know he's a pediatrician, but…"
"I can ask him. If he can't make it personally then he'll know someone who can."
"Thanks. I just... I really want this to work you know? For Bennie…" Joe trailed off. He couldn't believe it had been thirty years since he lost his baby brother.
"I know, Joe," Marc said, sipping his drink. "With all the work you're putting in, it'll be-" he cut off abruptly. The light in the office had just gone out and a large red bulb had started flashing above the door.
Marc felt his stomach drop to his feet and his heart rise to his throat. He and Joe looked at each other through the darkness. There was only one reason that light would have come on…Please, not Sebastian, he thought selfishly. Or Kurt...
They simultaneously jumped to their feet and hurried to the door. The club was in chaos. People were shouting, someone was running and over the sea of people, Marc saw Kurt leap from the bar into the crowd, calling Sebastian's name.
His worst fear realised, Marc started pushing and dragging people out of his way until they parted to make a path. He finally made it through to the opening in the crowd and saw the security back away from Sebastian. His chest was exposed, he was covered in blood and was as white as a ghost.
Marc let out a shaky breath and composed himself. He straightened his back and headed towards the coffee machine.
Kurt sat down on the chair closest to Sebastian's bed and took his boyfriend's hand. Fresh tears welled up in his eyes.
"I'm so sorry, Bas," he whispered into the darkness.
He pressed his forehead against their joined hands on the bed, contemplation the night's events. It didn't seem real. How had this happened?
He couldn't comprehend it. He had learned early on that people like him and Sebastian always had to be on their guard, even in New York. Yet he had always regarded Satire as a safe place. A haven for like-minded people to meet and have a good time. He hadn't anticipated such violence among their own community.
Kurt shook his head. It was stupid. Naive. Going to a gay bar- or being gay, for that matter, didn't automatically make someone a good person. He should not have let his guard down.
The door opened behind him, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked round expecting to see Marc with the coffees but instead saw a woman around the same age as Carole, walking towards him.
She had a warm, friendly face and greeted Kurt kindly. The nurse explained that she had to wake Sebastian now to check how lucid he was. "It may seem a little cruel to keep waking him like this when he wants to sleep, but it's really the only way to keep track of how his brain is coping," she said, looking apologetic. "Do you want to step out? It's not fun."
Kurt shook his head. "No, I want to stay. If...if I may."
The woman nodded. Then, she switched on a small pen light and shook Sebastian's shoulder lightly.
"Sebastian?" she said loudly. "Sebastian! Wake up, honey. Talk to me. Sebastian, do you know where you are?"
Sebastian felt like his head was underwater. He could hear someone saying something, but it was muffled. He tried to open his eyes but there was a bright light that burned into his brain.
"No," he mumbled, "let me sleep."
"Sebastian, sweetheart, I'm sorry to wake you, but I need you to tell me where we are?"
He heard the voice a little clearer this time, but couldn't bring himself to speak. Why wouldn't they just let him sleep?
"Sebastian, do you know what year it is?"
What a stupid question, he thought. It's 2015. He heard a faint chuckle and wondered if he'd said that out loud.
The nurse gave Kurt a bewildered look. Kurt realised she didn't speak French.
"He knows it's 2015," he quickly explained. "And he says he wants to sleep."
"The chart didn't say anything about him being a foreigner, I'm afraid I'm not-"
"I can help," Kurt offered. Finally, there was something useful he could do.
"Bas, can you hear me, baby? It's Kurt. I'm here." He squeezed Sebastian's hand.
The sound calmed Sebastian instantly. He'd always know that voice.
"Kurt," he whispered. "I want to sleep."
"I know. But we need you to talk for a bit - you hit your head. You're in the hospital. Do you understand? " Kurt looked at the nurse, who nodded and urged him to ask again. "Bas, do you remember what happened? "
Sebastian frowned. He heard what Kurt was saying and knew he should understand, but the only thing he could focus on was the warm hand on his forehead and the soft pillow under his head.
"Bas?"
Sebastian heard Kurt say his name again but sleep's call on him was too strong and he succumbed.
"It's okay honey, we can try him again in an hour or so," the nurse said, placing a hand on Kurt's shoulder.
The door opened behind them and Marc walked in carrying two coffees.
"Is he okay?"
Kurt shook his head, clasping a hand over his mouth. Tears were welling up in his eyes again. It was not okay. Sebastian didn't even know where he was or what had happened. Kurt's imagination was running wild. What if he didn't remember anything? What if he didn't remember him?
"Hey," the nurse said softly. "It's okay. We were able to wake him up, that's good news. It's normal for him to want to sleep. His brain needs to recover from the impact. I know it's scary, but it's not permanent. I'll come back in a bit, and we'll try again. You'll help me, right? We're a team now. We're on team Sebastian, ok?"
Kurt nodded, squeezing his eyes closed. Tears ran down his cheeks. Team Sebastian.
Marc shot her a grateful look and took over, handing Kurt a coffee and putting an arm around him.
"He'll pull through, Kurt," Marc said softly, trying to convince himself as much as Kurt. "He's a tough kid."
He looked at Sebastian laying there in bed. He looked so young and fragile. Marc checked his watch. It was past three am. "You should try and get some sleep, Kurt," he said, rubbing Kurt's shoulder. He knew it was futile, but he didn't know what else to say. He knew that nothing in the world, aside from Sebastian making a full recovery, would comfort Kurt right now. Just as nothing else could comfort him.
