A/N: I apologize for the cliffhanger! I just wanted to do that at least ONCE. I've always wanted to end a chapter dramatically (I say always, but I've been writing fanfiction for what, three weeks?) so I figured I'd just do it and SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES.
There wasn't THAT much suffering, just a few mildly outraged readers.
YOUR REVIEWS MAKE ME SO HAPPY I COULD SING.
Laaaaaaaaaaa
Glee? Still not mine. Nope. Sad, I know.
Kurt opened his eyes and holy fuck, why did it hurt so much? There was a sickening pounding in his head, and every time he tried to move his eyes to look around, the pain intensified. From what he could see, he was in some sort of moving vehicle. An...ambulance? There was a man and a woman, both in EMT uniforms, moving around him and out of the corner of his eye he vaguely recognized an IV. His head continued pounding and he couldn't feel anything below his waist. Then...
Blaine.
Where was Blaine? Kurt tried to sit up despite the pain, desperate to see him, desperate to make sure he was okay.
"Bla...aine..." Kurt croaked, and the sound echoed angrily in his head. One of the EMTs turned to him.
"Kid, did you say something?"
"Blaine," Kurt gasped again, louder this time. "Where's...Blaine...I..."
The throbbing in his head got worse the more he tried to talk, and he felt himself going under again. No, he had to find Blaine. He had to...where...where was he?
Stars clouded his vision and the last thing he remembered before blacking out again was trying to hear what the EMT was saying.
"Your friend? He's-"
Kurt was happy. He was so happy, and everything felt nice. He was wrapped up in a blanket of something and he felt warm and safe. He heard soft music from somewhere...a low, gentle voice, singing to him. He didn't know where he was, but he liked it. Was this heaven? Kurt could deal with this kind of heaven. He saw flashes of hazel eyes and curly hair and he felt warm hands and the music was getting louder. Kurt reached for the voice, wanting to hear the words it was singing. But the more he reached for it, the farther away it went. He tried harder to find the source of the beautiful music, but it was fading and it was replaced by the harsh sounds of beeping and quiet sobbing. The warmth was replaced with cold sheets and a bright light appeared behind his eyelids.
Kurt wasn't happy anymore.
He opened his eyes to see Carole crying into Burt's shoulder. He opened his mouth to ask them what was wrong, but nothing came out. Carole noticed he was awake first.
"Kurt, honey!" She reached out her arms as if to hug him but seemed to hesitate at all the bandages and pulled back. He looked at her oddly, clearing his throat.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice coming out hoarse and grating at his throat. Carole reached out and ever so gently stroked his hair back.
"Honey, you were in a car crash. We were so worried about you. You...you broke your wrist, and...you had to have stitches. One hundred in all."
"Where's Blaine?" Kurt demanded, still feeling foggy but beginning to come back to his senses. Carole bit her lip. Kurt felt a sickening twist in his stomach. "Where's. Blaine," he repeated. Carole turned to Burt.
"He's...uh...he hasn't woken up yet," he said carefully. "He got a pretty bad blow to the head. And his leg's broken."
Kurt felt tears pricking at his eyes and they burned. Blaine...he had to be okay. He was going to be okay, right? He couldn't not be okay. Kurt...Kurt needed him. Kurt didn't know how to live without him. He closed his eyes, letting the tears fall silently. His head had started pounding again and he just wanted to sleep. He wanted to go back to the place where everything was happy and Blaine was okay.
"Kurt, honey, we were supposed to get the nurse when you woke up...I..." Carole called for the nurse, but Kurt was already drifting off and he didn't have the energy to try and stay awake.
Kurt was a little less foggy when he woke up again, and the lights were a little less harsh because he was expecting them this time. This time Finn was sitting by his bed with Mercedes. He smiled at her. He hadn't seen her since he moved to Dalton; he'd tried to arrange shopping dates and stuff but this weekend had been the first time hew as going to see her for a few weeks now. He'd missed her.
"Hi," he croaked. Mercedes squeaked and jumped up, hugging him gingerly.
"Boy, you had me worried sick! Don't do that ever again!"
"I'm sorry," Kurt said genuinely. She kissed his forehead.
"It wasn't your fault. I was worried, though. I'm so glad you're okay."
Kurt smiled at her. "Me too."
Finn stood up. "Dude, you look terrible."
Kurt couldn't help rolling his eyes. "Thanks."
"I mean, you still...I just meant..."
"It's fine, Finn. Good to see you too."
Finn turned red and grinned sheepishly at him. Mercedes knelt next to his bed and squeezed his hand.
"I heard about your boy. Don't worry, he's gonna be okay."
Kurt nodded, and even in this situation he couldn't help wishing that Blaine actually was "his boy."
A day passed, and Kurt could do nothing but lie there and let his head pound.
He'd never felt worse.
He knew it was his fault...if he'd just kept his eyes on the road, none of this would've happened and he'd be introducing Blaine to his friends right now and they'd be preparing to have the most epic sleepover of their lives.
He just wanted to see him. He didn't care if he wasn't awake, he needed to see him. He needed to brush the curls he loved so much off Blaine's forehead and whisper to him that everything would be all right because it would be, it had to be. Kurt was a realistic person, but he wasn't realistic enough to think about what might happen if Blaine never woke up.
Throughout the day, nurses would come in and inject things into his IV and sometimes his headache would subside. Then it would slowly come back, starting slow, just a mildly painful pulse every few seconds until it turned into this pounding, throbbing pain just behind his eyes and all across his forehead and temples.
It fucking hurt.
That night, Kurt couldn't sleep, so he cried, which made his headache worse.
The next day, they let him sit up for longer than meals. They let him watch TV, but that gave him a headache after a while so he slept on and off until meals came. When he wasn't sleeping, he thought about Blaine. He never thought about Blaine now, injured and lying in a bed alone and comatose. He thought about Blaine happy and lively at Dalton. He thought about Blaine's eyes and the way they twinkled when he was talking and how his hair tumbled into his eyes when his head was bent low over his guitar and how his fingers moved so gently against the strings and how there were callouses on his fingers from guitar but it felt sort of nice, and how his laugh made everything right in the world.
He thought about making cookies and he thought about Disney movie marathons in their dorm room on Saturdays and he thought about that time he and Blaine raided Wes and David's room and stole their chocolate stash and Blaine convinced him to help him eat it and they both got sick.
He thought about how Blaine made him feel like he wasn't just the misfit gay kid. He thought about how Blaine made him feel like he mattered. He thought about Blaine's perfect smile and his perfect lips and his perfect laugh and the perfect way he made everything seem like it was going to be okay and the perfect way he didn't even know how perfect he was.
He thought about how perfect it would be if he could kiss those perfect lips and hold him and he wished that he were even close to perfect so he could be worthy of wishing Blaine was his Blaine.
The third day, Kurt was done. He was done lying there doing nothing and fuck if his health mattered because he was going to see Blaine today. He'd spent half the night thinking of his argument for the nurse about why he was going to get up today and dammit, she'd better let him. When she walked in, Kurt said in a rush,
"I want to get out of bed today and I want to see Blaine Anderson." Way to be eloquent, Hummel. He bit his lip, preparing to argue.
"Okay. That's fine. You shouldn't walk, so we'll get you into a wheelchair and you can go visit him."
Oh. "Oh. Thank you."
The nurse smiled and went to get him his breakfast.
Later, he was being wheeled into Blaine's room, and for a split second before they went in the door, he wasn't sure if he wanted to see Blaine like this.
But...what if this was the last time he saw him, ever? He steeled himself as they entered, but the scene within still broke his heart.
Blaine was lying on his bed, his leg wrapped in a cast and his arms covered in angry lines of stitches. There was a smaller line of stitches on his neck, and his face was bruised. His head was wrapped in bandages. Kurt's mouth fell open and tears instantly began streaming down his face, his heart absolutely shattering. The nurse patted his back gently.
"I'll give you a minute." She wheeled him right next to Blaine's bed and left. Kurt could do nothing but stare at his friend before he started sobbing uncontrollably, leaning his head on his arms.
It took him a minute to calm down, but he took a few deep breaths and raised his head again. Blaine looked almost like he was asleep. Kurt reached out, brushing the curls off his forehead. They were soft, like he'd always imagined.
"It's going to be okay," he whispered shakily, more to himself than to Blaine. But he kept talking. He felt like he needed to. "Blaine...you have to wake up. Okay? You have to. You can't leave me alone here. You...you told me courage, but you're my courage. I can't do this without you." He paused, taking a deep breath. "I only met you a couple months ago, but...you changed my life. You...you make me look forward to waking up every day, and you make me hate going to sleep because it's one less minute I can spend with you. You're perfect, and you don't even know it. I just...I just want you to wake up so I can tell you all these things. So I can tell you...so I can tell you that I love you."
Kurt stopped. I love you. It hit him with the force of a freight train: He was in love with Blaine. He loved his best friend, more than anything else in the entire world, more than he'd ever loved anything or anyone.
"I love you," he repeated. "I love you, I love you, I am so in love with you. And you need to wake up so I can tell you. Please," he begged, grabbing his friend's hand and squeezing. "I...I'm sorry, Blaine, I'm sorry about the truck and I'm sorry I wasn't looking at the road and I'm sorry it took me so long to realize that you're the only one I want to be with. Please, Blaine. Wake up, you have to wake up." He was crying again, the tears streaming down his face and dropping onto the sheets.
"Please," he gasped again before he let his head fall onto the bed. He sobbed into the mattress, his hands curling desperately into balls around the sheets. His head was hurting again but he didn't care because he just wanted Blaine to wake up.
Then...
A hand. Soft, soft fingers, fluttered over his on the bed. His head shot up and suddenly, he was staring into the most beautiful pair of eyes he'd ever seen.
"Kurt?" said the most beautiful voice he'd ever heard. Blaine's voice was hoarse and rough, but Kurt didn't care. Kurt placed his hands gently on either side of Blaine's face, as gently as he could.
"Blaine," he breathed. His thumbs stroked gently over Blaine's cheekbones, and he just wanted to kiss him, he wanted to throw his arms around him and hold him until they both fell asleep.
"You love me?" Blaine croaked, confused. Kurt gave a breathless laugh.
"Yes, Blaine. I love you, I've always loved you. It's always been you."
Blaine smiled crookedly, his eyelids fluttering. "I...love you too." Kurt leaned forward and pressed his lips to Blaine's in the softest of kisses, barely touching their lips together, and Blaine still smelled like Blaine in the foreign chemical smell of the hospital. Warmth spread through Kurt's body and he sighed, leaning his head tiredly on Blaine's bed. He was spent. Blaine's fingers began moving softly through his hair, and he closed his eyes.
"I...should call the nurse," he said quietly.
"Mmm," Blaine said. His throat hurt and he was thirsty and his head was throbbing a bit but he didn't care because Kurt loved him and he loved Kurt and everything was going to be okay.
Everything was going to be okay.
EEK, I hope you liked it! I tried my hardest to make it okay. I'm pretty proud of the way it turned out.
Ahhhh, my brain is spent. I feel sooo much better having posted it, though. Bedtime! I hope you enjoy. If you've made it this far, I love you, you deserve candy.
Up next: FLUFF SO MUCH FLUFF.
I LOVE YOU ALL, GOODNIGHT
