I AM SO SORRY! I've had an awful month (I came out to my parents – they didn't really take it well – and my self-harm issue returned), as well as dreadful writer's block and my hands just wouldn't type, but it is Easter holidays in two weeks (yay, two weeks in the sun!) so I'll definitely have more chapters for you then I have, however, found an awesome collection of Klaine drabbles called A Collection of Klaine by The Other – check it out, it's awesome :D The alerts and favourites are awesome, but come on, where's the review love? R&R please!
Chapter Nine – You're My Life house
"… and Milan Kurt, you'd love the fashion-"
A small groan cut Blaine's speech off, and as Blaine watched the boy he loved, Kurt's eyelids slowly began to flicker and then open.
"Kurt? NURSE, BURT, HE'S AWAKE!"
"mmfff." Kurt struggled to open his eyes fully, but as he did he was greeted by the face of the man he was in love with. "Blaine? What happened? Karof- he wasn't back here was he?"
Blaine shook his head, "no Kurt, thank goodness. You were extremely ill, your side hadn't healed and the doctors had to put you in a medically-induced coma. You've been out for nearly five days."
Kurt's pale face shrunk back against the bedcovers as Doctor Mauswell and his father walked in; it seemed that the coma had not healed his fear of men and crowds.
"Kurt, son, welcome back."
Burt Hummel was not under any circumstances a weepy man; he could count on his hands the number of times he had cried, but right now he couldn't stand seeing his son so afraid of him. He turned and left the room, nodding once to Blaine before he shut the door.
"Kurt, I know you're scared baby, but you need to let the doctor see your side." Blaine whispered into Kurt's ear and the uncooperative boy refused to let the doctor near him.
Kurt replied almost inaudibly, just one four-lettered word: "okay."
As the afternoon wore on the news of Kurt's reawakening reached both show choir groups – Rachel immediately called up Wes and the pair negotiated times to rehearse another joint song. It seemed a coalition between the groups had been formed even with Regionals on the way. One special boy and a complete and utter tragedy had done what no other event could and brought two rival choirs together.
Within ten minutes the pair had agreed to meet in the McKinley auditorium later that afternoon to choose a song, and the two leaders hung up with their spirits raised.
The jock had planned his next move carefully. He knew that Blaine never left the hospital, and reaching Kurt past the new security guards was near impossible. Near, but not totally.
"Blaine?" Kurt near-whispered, "Has he been caught yet? It's been nearly six- oh my God, I've been in hospital for six weeks!"
The curly-haired boy wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and did his best to reassure him. "Honey, you've been out of it for four of those weeks, and the doctors and police both agree that you're safer here anyway. But no, not yet. They're thinking of getting the Homeland Security guys in soon. You wouldn't believe the amount of press and media attention you've received. Ellen and Oprah both want you on their show when this is over."
Kurt's face morphed into one of shock and complete surprise; he had never truly believed he would become famous. Yes he had dreams of being huge in the fashion of Broadway businesses, but they had just been dreams. "Really?"
"Would I lie to you?" Blaine kissed the top of Kurt's head. "However you are still really ill, your hip is still healing – it's taking way longer than expected, it's going to be in a cast for at least two more weeks – and so is your shoulder, and the stab wound of course."
The young countertenor sat back, overwhelmed by the new information. He was famous, his attacker was still out there, he was more injured than he previously thought and his wonderful boyfriend was still here.
"I love you."
Blaine smiled as a tear fell down his hollow cheek. "I love you too Kurt, with all my heart."
William Schuester was an extremely calm-mannered person. He prided himself on the fact that he was one of the few teachers in the school willing to take on a bunch of misfits and turn them into a respectable, award-winning show choir. Yet when one of his prized misfits was hurt, he flew into a rage unlike anything his new wife Emma or colleague Sue Sylvester had ever seen; he ranted, screamed and even punched a wall, just because it wasn't fair.
Kurt Hummel had had it rough his whole life, first when his mom died, then being bullied for being gay, his dad's heart attack and then being threatened with his own death and forced to transfer schools. And now it seemed whatever greater being ruled earth had it in for Kurt. He was raped for God's sake. He was beaten and raped in a place that was his sanctuary, a place that had promised him safety from those who forced him there.
Will was currently sat in a hospital waiting room with the rest of the New Directions and the Warblers, the show choir that Kurt had joined at his new school. He greatly admired the way the two groups had come together to help Kurt – it seemed the tragic events had also caused new friendships and bonds to be created, if the way Quinn and – was his name Dafydd? David? – one of the lead Warblers were draped over each other in the corner was anything to go by.
"Okay guys, Kurt's doctor told me that while he is still terrified, he consented to his check up on Tuesday easier; he might be on the mend." Wes, the Head Warbler Councilman, told the groups. "So we'll take it slow, don't all approach him at once and back away if he looks even remotely scared of you."
As Santana repeated this in 'dumb speak' for Brittany the large group made their way over to the door of Kurt's private hospital room. Will nodded to the two burly security guards and inside the room Blaine left a groggy Kurt to open the door.
"He's just woken up but it's been two days since he came out of the coma and so far he's consented to each check-up; you're good to go." The curly-haired boy told Wes and Rachel tiredly while he rubbed along his jawline. Wes made a note of this and told himself to remember to speak to Blaine again before he left.
As one the group began to hum the first bars. Finn stepped forward into Kurt's room, and began to sing.
This kind of love
Is more than a lifeline
For a man as weak as me
Who has no self-belief
This kind of love
Is more than amazing
For a man who lost his way
Who thought it was too late
David and Wes joined Finn in the room as the first of Kurt's tears fell. They looked at Blaine worriedly as they sang, but he just nodded at them to keep singing. Kurt needed to see that all of these people cared for him and were there to help him get through his ordeal.
How did the sea
How did the sea
How did the sea get so rough
I would've drowned
I would've drowned
If you hadn't given me your love
Quinn, Santana, Brittney, Tina, Lauren and some of the higher-pitched Warblers entered behind Wes and David and took over as the rest of the group provided an a cappella backing. Kurt felt ashamed to be afraid of the large crowd but he couldn't help tightening his grip on Blaine.
You're the light in the dark
You're the seat in the park
You're the lighthouse
You're the lighthouse
That I need
You're the key to the door
You're the Port in the storm
And I need to find a shore
When I can't swim anymore
You always guide me back to solid ground
You're my lighthouse
The rest of the New Directions and the Warblers that hadn't sung yet entered the room, singing while spreading out around Kurt's bed, mindful of the numerous machines and equipment that were helping to keep Kurt's fragile body alive.
This kind of love
Is more than a feeling
For a man who rarely tried
I get all choked up each time
You say you love me
You could've walked away
Could've give my problems back
Could've left
You took the chance
How did the waves
How did the waves
How did the waves get so high
I would've died
I would've died
If you hadn't loved me just in time
Puck and Mercedes moved forward to sing the next part, their voices blending to create smooth notes that made Kurt cry even harder; they'd done all of this just for him, and he couldn't even get close enough to them to thank them properly.
You're the light in the dark
You're the seat in the park
You're the lighthouse
You're the lighthouse
That I need
You're the key to the door
You're the Port in the Storm
When I need to find a shore
Cos I can't swim anymore
You always guide me back to solid ground
You're my lighthouse
Yeah, I owe it all to you everything I have right now
I owe it all to you everything I didn't have you found
Every time take me back to you
As one the whole group began to sing, no one higher, no one lower than anyone else.
You're the light in the dark
You're the seat in the park
You're the lighthouse
You're the lighthouse I need
You're the key to the door
You're the Port in the Storm
And I need to find the shore
'Cause I can't swim anymore
You always guide me back to solid ground
You're my lighthouse.
The nurses and doctors that had stopped to watch the show clapped loudly as the performance ended, but all Kurt could do was cry. He couldn't believe his friends really cared this much about him. He was damaged goods, a basket case. He knew it, and couldn't stop it.
"Kurtie-pie?" Brittany stepped forward, but remembering what Santana had said didn't move to hug Kurt. "I didn't want you to cry, I love you. The big men will catch the baddie and you can come live at home with Finn and Blainey-bear!"
"It doesn't work like that Britt," Finn answered, knowing his brother would be unable to answer. "Kurt was hurt a lot, he needs to heal, and his mind needs time to process it all too."
"Like when Lord Tubbington had to go to rehab to quit smoking?"
Finn gave a sad smile to the blonde cheerleader, looking to Santana for help controlling her girlfriend.
"Yeah Britt, I guess so." The Latina replied.
"Well Burt, it seems that Kurt is slowly healing. I am confident his ribs will be fully set within a week, and his shoulder and hip should be healed within three at most. I am worried about a slight swelling on his brain that could be the cause of his sleeping so much and fuzzy vision but we'll monitor that over the next week and send him for tests if it doesn't improve."
Burt looked between Doctor Mauswell and Carole, his face pale. "Swelling? Tests?"
"It's nothing to worry about yet, I could be a side effect of his concussion and prolonged coma. There is the matter of Blaine, however. His therapy session on Monday was most revealing."
Carole narrowed her eyes. "How so?"
Doctor Mauswell coughed nervously. "Were you aware that Blaine has been neglected most of his life?"
Burt shook his head. "We knew his parents didn't really care, but I didn't think it was that bad."
"Unfortunately it appears that Blaine has been left to fend for himself since he was in sixth grade; his parents would frequently travel and leave him with an alcoholic butler."
"WHAT? That's it; he's staying with us from now on." Burt stood up, ready to ring Blaine's parents and give them a piece of his mind.
"Burt, all you can do is give Blaine care and love him as if he were your own son. I'm amazed he's as kind and polite as he is now. You already have legal guardianship of him when they are out of state, just continue as you have been and he will be fine. He and Kurt need each other, and as he's the only one Kurt responds to we can't have the state getting involved and removing him into foster care." Doctor Mauswell implored this over the Hummel-Hudsons before they left the hospital to take care of matters at home and at the shop.
Wes Montgomery and David White were model students, with 4.0 GPAs and early acceptances to both Harvard and Yale, but when their friends were in trouble they would drop everything to help them. It was this loyalty to their friends that found them spending the night with Blaine while Kurt slept.
"Blaine man, how did the session go?" David thought it best to be brunt, ignoring the glare he received from Wes.
"S'okay I guess. He asked a lot about my home life and I told him the truth. The doctor gave me more pills to help with the nausea and sleeping and stuff."
The two seniors could tell that Blaine was out of it; his hair was wild and his clothes were rumpled, and the dark bags under his eyes were as clear as day.
"When was the last time you went outside the ward, Blaine?"
Blaine just gave a non-committal shrug, before returning his gaze to the sleeping Kurt lying on the bed in front of him. The show choirs' visit had taken a lot out of Kurt, both physically and emotionally, and he had fallen asleep as the last member left the room, and stayed asleep even when Wes and David returned.
Wes frowned, "Let me rephrase that. When was the last time you had a decent meal?"
"Dunno, don't care. I'm not leaving Kurt for more than the half hour it takes me to shower." Blaine snapped at the two boys, the dapper young man being uncharacteristically short with his best friends.
David glanced at Wes before speaking.
"Blaine we're not saying you need to leave, you just have to look after yourself. Has the dizziness left?"
At this Blaine sighed and shook his head slightly.
"Kurt won't be waking any time soon. Take a shower and have a decent sleep. We'll stay here while you shower in case anything happens; Kurt knows us well enough not to freak out as long as we don't touch him, even if he won't speak to any of us."
Seeing the sense in David's statement Blaine let out a pained sigh and nodded, gathering his wash stuff.
As he left the small room he clapped a hand on each of the boys' shoulders.
"Thanks guys."
When Kurt next woke up it was to sunlight streaming into his room and Blaine working on some math problems that Dalton had sent for the boys to catch up on when they were ready. Blaine looked over, and seeing Kurt was awake he stood up and stretched, his back popping noisily.
"Hey Kurt." He said softly, "How are you this morning?"
Kurt replied in a whisper so soft Blaine had to stretch to hear it, "I'm alright thanks, how are you? You look better."
Blaine smiled and winked; if Kurt was making a comment on his appearance he must be getting better. "I'm good, you were out for nearly twenty hours though. It's noon."
Kurt blinked, and then gave a tiny smile to his beloved. "I guess I must've been shattered. At least I had no nightmares this time."
The curly haired boy looked down before he walked over to join Kurt on the bed. "It's the drugs they have you on Kurt; they cause you to skip the 'dreaming' part of sleep and fall straight into a deep sleep. It helps with the healing process I think."
Oh. Kurt blinked away tears, he really thought he had been getting better. He curled up into Blaine's side, snuggling into his toned body. Blaine wrapped an arm around Kurt, mindful of his ribs, shoulder and stab wound, and planted a kiss on his bed-hair.
"Your dad came in with the police this morning. They said they had a sighting of his car not far from Dalton. He was in Kentucky last time, he's getting closer. They didn't want to tell you but I thought you should know."
Kurt nodded sadly, reverting back to the state he had been in earlier rather than the slightly happier one he had just come out of.
Blaine knew that this was just a defensive measure, but he couldn't help but feel anxious that Karofsky was getting closer. He had gotten past the guards once before, what was stopping him now?
Kurt hadn't been told the whole story, that Karofsky's truck had been sighted outside a shady gun store, or that his location was in fact nearer Lima than Columbus. Blaine leant his head back against the pillows, sinking into a sleep filled with worries about Kurt and jocks in red Letterman jackets.
