KURT'S POV

It had been two weeks since that Friday dinner, but, knowing (and dreading) that I would have to actually eat food for this Friday's dinner, I decided to take some early morning runs on the Dalton trail before school started. It wasn't much because I knew my body was growing weaker, but it felt good to try to clear my head.

I had skipped school on Tuesday, opting to sleep in. Blaine was so kind as to tell the administration that I wasn't feeling well, which was nothing but the truth. Apparently, the nurse wanted to see me in her office, but I slept off the spinning feeling for eight straight hours, then slept another perfect seven that night as well. She didn't get the chance to see me.

During my Wednesday biology class, my chest began aching, and I couldn't seem to catch my breath. My teacher excused me, and I'm glad Blaine wasn't there to start fretting about me and getting on my case.

Again, the feeling went away after a bit of deep breathing, so I thought nothing of it.

Typically, I sit in my dorm while all of the other boys go eat dinner in the communal dining hall. On Thursday, like always, Blaine knocked on the door to invite me to eat with him except this time he brought a tray of food. I have no clue as to how he got it before the serving bell, but I was too focused on him cornering me.

"Hey, baby," he greeted happily. Oh, this was going to go downhill quickly.

"Hi," I said blankly and let him come into my room.

"I brought you dinner today!" he demonstrated the plate of pasta and vegetables.

"I can see that."

"Will you eat it with me?" he pled.

"Blaine," I sighed, and his face fell. God, I hated constantly bringing his mood down. "I have a lot of homework to do."

"You've had all afternoon to do it," he retorted.

"Like I said, it's a lot." I turned back to my desk and stared at the textbook in front of me pretending to read. Blaine startled me by placing his hands on my shoulders after setting the food beside me.

"You're skeletal, Kurt."

Furious. I felt rage course through my veins, and my skin prickled.

"Fuck you, Blaine," I snapped. "Fuck you and Carole and the nurse and my dad. You don't get to be in my face with everything," I spewed viciously. Blaine's hazel eyes filled with tears, many emotions ran across his face. I felt extremely guilty but didn't say anything. We just sat and stared at each other for a while, then he reached for my hand, which I allowed. The air changed.

"How much do you weigh?" he gently prompted.

"Too much." I became suddenly aware of my exhaustion over keeping this secret.

"What do you eat?" He seemed genuinely curious.

"Water, coffee, apples, and crackers."

"Do you throw it up?" He continued to hold my hand, remaining calm with my answers.

"Not unless I want to," I shrugged.

"When will you stop?"

"When I reach my goal."

"Which is..?" His face scrunched up as he asked that, leaving the question open. He knew he wouldn't get that answer from me.

"I… I'm not telling you," I sighed.

"Of course." His hand wandered to my wrist gently. His fingers caressed my wrist, wrapping around. They touched, even overlapped, each other. Again his hand wandered up, both hands traveling to my shoulders. Slowly, he pulled my big zip-up jacket off of my shoulders and helped me to stand from the chair.

It was so quiet. I let him lead me to my bed. We stood there and stared into each other's eyes, breathing in the silence. A hand traveled up my right arm. His fingers wrapped around my bicep and just barely touched, but he had to squeeze. Blaine lifted an eyebrow at me.

"What do you think of that?"

"Fat," was my immediate response as if it was an instinctive reflex.

He sucked in a breath and let it out with a whoosh. Suddenly, my lounge shirt was being lifted. I moved quickly on instinct to tug his hands away, but he was quicker to steady me.

"Stop struggling, Kurt," he whispered, sending a shiver through my body. I would've made a joke as to how creepy that command sounded, but his eyes put me in a trance. He pulled my shirt off and walked me to the full-length mirror beside the bathroom. Standing behind me and resting his head on my shoulder, Blaine's hand roamed over my body, which I was staring at in the mirror.

He traced my collarbones, sternum, ribs, hipbones. Soft skin = fat.

"What do you think of this?" he gestured to my torso.

"Disgusting." Every flaw, on display for him to see.

"Do you not see how your bones show?" he point to my collar bone.

"No." Blaine slid his own shirt off and stood by my side. Our skin tones were starkly contrasted.

"Do you think I'm fat?" he asked genuinely.

"No," I shook my head almost vehemently.

"What am I then?" he continued to question.

"Fit. Lean. Beautiful," I listed off easily.

"What. Am. I?" he reiterated. My mind skipped a step, but I finally understood his question, and my breath hitched with emotion.

"My boyfriend."

"I love you very much, Kurt, and I need you to know that you're going too far with this," he hooked his chin over my shoulder, and we looked at each other through our reflections.

"I… love you, too."

"Will you admit that you have a problem?" he asked, turning me around and stepping closer, skin touching mine, breath ghosting over my lips.

"Maybe," I hesitated. Then he kissed me. Deeply. Took my breath away.

"Let me show you how beautiful I think you are," he offered.

"Blaine," I began to argue, but he walked us to the bed. We laid down. Slowly, achingly, Blaine slid my sweatpants and underwear off. He began working his mouth from my feet up.

Worshipping me. We had done things before, gotten to certain bases and all that, but it had been so long.

"I don't understand," I babbled when he brushed his lips over my knees, up my thighs. His hands gently gripped my waist.

"I'm crazy about you, Kurt," he murmured. "I love everything about you, and it has nothing to do with how thin or obese you are. It's never about your appearance." Tears filled my eyes. "I care so much about you that I'll risk anything to keep you alive, but you need to stop fighting our help." He had moved up my stomach and chest, peppering kisses all over.

"I need... help?" I found myself wondering out loud.

"Yes, baby. You do." A sob broke out through me. Blaine wrapped his arms around me tightly, holding me together. Everything felt so heavy, rivers running from my eyes, tremors racking my body.

"Aren't you tired of feeling this way?" Blaine's comforting voice asked.

"Yes," I blubbered. He kissed my cheek. We stayed silent for a moment, passion forgotten but pure love taking its place.

"I have to go talk with Wes about some Warbler stuff that he wanted help on, but I'll be back later," Blaine promised, breaking the quiet. He was already tugging his shirt on.

"Okay," I said, already anticipated the cold that would settle over me in his absence.

"Get under the covers. I love you," he affirmed, kissing my lips.

"Love you, too."

I fell asleep shortly after he left, tears had soaked my pillow. The last thought before I slipped into the land of dreams was, "Do I really want help?"

I woke up the next day with a head still brimming with tangled thoughts. So I went for a run.

BLAINE'S POV

I would have never told Kurt how his stunt in the park two weeks ago affected me. I turned into myself. The Warblers kept asking if I was okay.

"Fine. Just thinking." I was always in thought, it seemed. Somehow I needed to make Kurt feel beautiful. He wouldn't listen to my words.

Last night, I physically worshipped him, but I would also never tell him that his protruding ribs and razor sharp hipbones didn't turn me on.

I really actually had an excuse to leave Kurt for a while yesterday because Wes asked me if I could help him research some songs for when the Warblers were going to sing at the senior's center down the road in a couple of weeks. Afterwards, I returned to Kurt's room to find him asleep under the covers. I closed the door quietly. In perfect timing, too, because my phone began to ring loudly.

"Hello, this is Blaine Anderson," I greeted because I hadn't looked at the caller ID.

"Why hello, Blaine Anderson," Carole replied. I could hear her amused smile.

"Hi, Carole. What's up?" I slipped into a more casual tone.

"I just wanted to ask you if Kurt had made any changes. We haven't heard from him in a while," she explained.

"He hasn't really. I tried to get him to eat dinner tonight. He wouldn't take any," I sighed.

"Burt and I are thinking we need to nip this in the bud immediately. We can't wait for Kurt to want help," she replied.

"I understand," I replied. This was good news.

"Since you're the one always with him, do you know exactly what symptoms he has? We'll need to tell the doctor when we make the appointment."

"Do you have a pen and paper, or can you remember it all?"

"Oh… Yeah, I can get that," she said. There was rustling followed by a, "Ready."

"Uhm, he's tired, weak, dizzy when he stands up, refuses food, is always cold, his hair falls out, he's twitchy, loses balance easily, and admits he think he's fat."

"Okay, thank you Blaine," Carole sniffled on the line. "We'll definitely make the appointment as soon as possible or at least next week."

"Good," I commented before adding, "What's going to happen to him?"

"That's a good question. I presume he'll be admitted as an inpatient at a psychiatric ward. It's the only medical department that handles eating disorders. Depending on how he takes treatment or what bodily damage he has done, he may need a feeding tube for a while to gain weight quickly."

"How long is treatment?" I wondered.

"It all depends on his willingness to work with the doctors and get better."

"Can I visit him?" I added.

"Usually you can."

"Good." Some damn silver lining, even if it was small.

We exchanged goodbyes, and I hung up the phone feeling an odd sense of a weight lifted off of my shoulders that I had been dragging along for these past months. I was happy that my job was finished, that I got his parents to get him help. Now all I could do was support my boyfriend in recovery.

I never anticipated something terrible would happen.

KURT'S POV

Shoes tied. Headphones in. I stretched a bit in the earliest daylight and set off running along the Dalton trail that stretched about six miles in a circle. I alternated between jogging and walking at a steady pace, expecting myself to have just enough time to make it back to my dorm, shower, and go to school.

Three songs later, I was exhausted.

Why? I didn't understand. What made it even weirder was that the exhaustion was more in my head and chest than moving limbs.

Oh, I just need water. I turned my direction around to start heading back.

Two more songs, and I had managed to push myself a total of two miles. The sweat was dripping, but I felt cold. Doesn't that mean that I'm burning fat? I didn't want to stop, but the common feeling of being on the brink of losing consciousness crept up on me.

Head pounding. Heart beating painfully, forcefully.

"Hey, Kurt!" Jeff from the Warblers announced himself. His sudden presence actually really scared me. He came up running behind me. I changed my gait to walk and yanked the headphones out of my ears.

"Hi, Jeff," I said, trying to hide the heavy breathing.

"Dude, are you okay?" he asked. His face had changed from a cordial smile to downright concern. I really wish he hadn't said anything because now my focus was on how bad I physically felt. Now that he brought it up, my vision began blackening.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

"Do you want to sit down?" Jeff offered, reaching out for me. His fingers wrapped around my forearm completely, and his face morphed into that look that everyone keeps fucking giving me. I did want to sit though, so I must've shrugged because I was suddenly lying on the cool ground in the next moment. My entire brain seemed to shut off, just melted onto the concrete trail.

I lied on the ground, on the concrete Dalton trail, and tensed up before becoming unconscious.

Help me.

BLAINE'S POV

My cell phone rang during early breakfast time in the Dalton hall.

"Jeff?" I read from the caller ID.

"Blaine! You've got to come out to the trail. Kurt… he-he…" Jeff stammered nervously, perhaps frantically. This was an emergency call.

"What happened with him, Jeff?" I asked sternly, catching the attention of others at the table. I stood up and began sprinting towards the exit, leaving them behind.

"I've already called the ambulance because I'm not quite sure what to do. You've got to call his parents to let them know or something."

"What's happening?" I choked out as I picked up speed toward the trail.

"He's unconscious… and… and…" he dazed off.

"Come on, Jeff," I growled.

"Like… shaking?" I almost stopped running to understand him.

"A seizure?" I couldn't believe the words came out of my mouth.

"Huh?"

"Is he having a seizure?" I yelled into the phone.

"I think?"

"What trail marker are you at?"

"Probably half-way to mile one." I pulled adrenaline out of me to sprint down the trail, rounding a corner to come across Jeff standing over Kurt's shaking body.

"Thank God," Jeff said. I got fairly close to Kurt, because he was only trembling, not flailing limbs. From my health class a while back, I remembered that all I could do was put something soft under his head, so I stripped my blazer and placed it under his skull.

In the distance, Jeff and I both heard the sirens of the ambulance. It would still be a bit until they came to us. Quickly thinking, I dialed the nurse.

"Hello, this is Nurse Nancy," she answered almost immediately.

"This is Blaine Anderson," I shortly said. She could hear the tension in my voice.

"What's wrong, Blaine?"

"I'm pretty sure you would want to know why an ambulance is coming to Dalton."

"Absolutely. What happened?" she asked sternly.

"Kurt went running, and he's having a seizure now."

"Where?"

"Dalton trail, just half a mile in."

"Have you cushioned his head?" I heard rustling and doors closing in the phone.

"Yes."

"I'll be there soon," she said curtly before hanging up.

I dialed another number after the conversation ended. The phone rang and rang which confused and worried me, but then I heard her voice.

"Blaine?" she inquired groggily. She must have just woken up.

"Yeah, Mrs. Hummel," I exhaled shakily.

"What's wrong?"

"Kurt went running, and he's having a seizure." I heard her gasp.

"No," she whispered.

"The ambulance is coming, and I'm guessing he'll be taken to the Westerville Hospital."

"Okay," she said blankly. "We'll be there as soon as possible."

As the sirens became louder, Kurt stopped seizing and just breathed deeply. I crouched down again.

"Kurt. Baby, can you hear me?" I tried to check him out.

"Is that the nurse coming?" Jeff asked, looking out in the distance to a Dalton golf cart speeding towards us.

"Yeah. Will you go wave her down?" I ordered.

"Sure," he agreed and ran off, waving his arms wildly.

"Kurt? Kurt?" I tried again. His bony fingers twitched. I held them gently. "Yes. Come on, Kurt. Wake up." His eyes fluttered open.

"Hi, beautiful. I'm right here. I've got you," I said, tears filling my eyes. Kurt's face scrunched in pain, and he let out a groan.

"I know. We'll get you help soon. It's okay." Footsteps came up behind me.

"The paramedics are right over there," the nurse said. "Did it just now stop?"

"Yeah. He's responsive, too." The paramedics did rush up then with a stretcher and equipment. While two worked over Kurt, one stood off to the side to speak with the nurse who had brought Kurt's files along with her. Quick-thinking.

"Jeff," I turned to the lanky blonde boy. "Go to school. Please don't tell anybody what happened until Kurt allows it, okay?"

"Okay," Jeff was biting his nails.

"You saved his life by finding him."

"Am I allowed to know what happened? Why the hell is he that thin?"

"I promise that I will tell you everything later."

KURT'S POV

Confused. Tired. Disoriented. A bit nauseous.

"Hey, there, buddy. Can you hear me?" a stranger's voice asked. Boy, did I really not want to open my eyes. It felt too bright. I really didn't even know where I was. Somebody was wrapping something around my arm. Something was placed over my mouth. I wanted to scream and thrash around to get them off of me but just groaned instead. It took too much energy to move.

"Can you tell me your name?" the voice questioned.

"Kurt," I mumbled through the plastic breathing piece.

"Good. Listen, Kurt. You've just had a seizure, and we need to get you to the hospital to get checked out. According to your boyfriend, you've never had one before."

"Blaine!" my muffled voice yelped. Where did he go? Wasn't he here murmuring soothing things in my ear not too long ago?

"He's talking with someone right now, but he said he'll come with us in the ambulance," the man's voice said. I heard footsteps near my head.

"The nurse said he's anorexic," a distinctly female voice said.

"That explains a lot. Let's get him on the stretcher."

I was too exhausted to do anything like argue or even think. After I was jostled onto the stretcher, the paramedics rushed me off, assuring me that Blaine was following them. Inside the vehicle, they began attaching wires and beeping machines on me.

"Bradycardia. Stand-by for any signs of heart failure."

That made me terrified, and I began to cry. The sirens were too loud, there were too many people, and I wanted my dad. At least I had Blaine.

"You're doing so well, Kurt," he spoke lowly into my ear. Tears rolled down my face. "Please don't cry. It will get better. I love you so much. You have no idea how much. Will you open your eyes? Good. Thank you, baby. Look at those beautiful blue eyes. They were the first things I noticed when I first saw you. And I thought, 'Wow, how can he be that beautiful? He must be an angel.'"

Blaine kept going with these comforting words, breathing on my face. I shut my eyes again, focusing on the lull of his voice instead of the blaring sirens.

Tired.

BURT'S POV

"Burt. Burt. Wake up!" Carole was shaking me violently awake Friday morning.

"What's wrong? What time is it?" I grumbled. I didn't have to be at work as early as Carole on weekdays.

Wait. Why hadn't she left?

"What's wrong?" I repeated. This time I sat up and saw Carole's teary eyes.

"It's Kurt," she said. My entire world stopped.

"No," I said and got out of bed. Dressing in five seconds flat, I had Carole explain the situation.

"He was running and had a seizure. They're at the Westerville Hospital, so it's going to be a long drive."

"I can't lose him, Carole," I stated so obviously. She kissed me on the lips and hugged me in a loving embrace.

"Let's go."

Don't take my child away from me.