(A/N): … Well, I'm not dead!

Yeah, I am so, so sorry for the long delay. I could put some of the blame, fairly, on life and school and business, but some can be put on my and writer's block and I'm sorry. :(

So besides the fact that this took for-freaking-ever,I hope you enjoy it. You can thank my wonderful beta HPKitty for being amazing and patient throughout my bouts of falling off the earth, AlyDuartsGleek for aiding me with the amazing Santana moments, and xXHopelessXxXRomanticXx for wonderfully badgering and pestering me into writing. If it weren't for these wonderful peeps, you would not have this chapter as soon as you do (soon… ha).

On another note, this story has 75 reviews! That's like three quarters of a hundred! And that wonderful 75th reviewer is The Songbirds Are Singing. But it's also teh exact amount of reviews I've gotten from Dalton: Witnessed. So if I get at least one review... ;)
But seriously. Not only to I want to surpass it, but getting to 100 reviews would just make my entire life. XD

OKAY! So I don't know how I feel about this chapter. I hope I don't just disappear and then magically reappear with a poopy chapter… but here you go! Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts. :)
(I mean, my beta said, and I quote-I hope she doesn't mind this: "My heart is slowly being torn to pieces by your writing." So it may not be horrible after all! :D)

Disclaimer: No Glee ownage but OMGLEE GUYS SRSLY. GLEE IS BACK, BITCHES!

**Here's what you missed on In the Absence of Color**

After Burt's most brutal beating yet, Kurt has just gotten himself to the hospital in the nick of time. Blaine is there, waiting anxiously for him to awake so everyone can finally know what had happened, only for Kurt to awake from a nightmare, leaving him thinking that Blaine is the one in the hospital, not him. Blaine sets him straight and Kurt is left to figure out what is real and what is not.

Once all the medical and physical things were taken care of, Blaine and Kurt were left alone in the hospital room, and Blaine finally took a chance. Through a medley of denials, uncertainties, and rambling speeches, two people were finally, magically brought together.

He ran his hand through my hair slowly, whispering, "Do you believe me now?"

I tentatively placed my shaking hand on top of his, the one that had returned to my cheek. "I want to," I breathed.

"Well," Blaine said, voice soft, as he leaned forward again. "I guess I have some more convincing to do."

-:-Blaine-:-

When our lips met again, I slid my hand down to rest on Kurt's, gently, tenderly. I curled my fingers through his and brought it to my heart. I tried to do like they say in all the most romantic scenes in books. I tried to put all of myself and all my emotions into this one, languid kiss, so I could prove to Kurt that this was real.

I didn't know exactly how to do that, though. I wasn't sure how to convey that much emotion through one seemingly simple action. I tried, though. For Kurt. My thoughts focused on the sensations flooding through my body at every hesitant touch from Kurt, on the way I couldn't help but be happy when I was with him, on how my stomach fluttered every time he laughed or smiled. I thought about Kurt, about how beautiful and genuine he is, about how talented and humble, about how closed and guarded. I thought about how much I loved him, how crazy and scary it was that I loved him that much already, and how much I wanted to help him. How much I was willing to do, willing to give up to make it all better.

Kurt sighed a little into the kiss, breaking away slightly and nodding to the bed he was laying in. He painstakingly moved himself over to the left side, obviously repressing a grimace with each movement. I squeezed the hand I still held in mine. "Are you sure?"

He only nodded, gently pulling me down next to him. I clambered as gracefully as I could manage into the bed, settling myself next to him. There was a moment, just a single, fleeting moment, where Kurt and I stared right into each other's eyes, and it just felt right. There was no other way to explain it.

Just as Kurt had pulled me into another kiss, his hand resting on my jaw, the door flung open and was accompanied by a newly familiar voice.

"Hey Blaine, and Kurt if he's awake, I just thought I'd let you know that—oh."

Larissa stopped speaking when she saw our position; Kurt and I lying side by side in the tiny hospital bed, hardly any empty space between our two bodies, Kurt's hand gently cupping my cheek, our fingers intertwined, our lips but a breath apart.

We jumped apart. Well, I jumped away—and nearly tumbled to the floor. Kurt tried to move, but ending up just flinching, eyes wide in panic.

I don't know how I would have expected Larissa to react to a situation such as this. How she did react, though, still shocked me. Her hands were clasped in front of her mouth, obviously covering a pleased and ecstatic smile. She bounced on her toes a little bit, and her shoulders shook slightly with repressed giggles. Oh yes, Larissa seemed very pleased with what she saw.

"I just thought I'd let you know the doctor will be back to take Kurt to his testing soon," she said, her face still split in a wide grin. "Just so you know. Get back to… what you were doing," she turned around with a wink, closing the door behind her. I couldn't help but smile myself, despite the confusion, when I heard her tinkling laugh and high-pitched squeal of happiness echo in the corridor.

We were both just staring at the door, expecting Dr. Loury to walk in as if on cue. When that didn't happen in the next minute or two, our gazes both flitted to each other, reconnecting at the exact same moment. A laugh bubbled its way out of my chest before I could stop it. Kurt cracked a shy smile, soon accompanying it with light chuckles, which shortly grew into laughs that caused his whole body to tremble.

I rested my head on his shoulder, fighting back my own chortles. Kurt hissed in a breath. "Ow," he said, clearly in pain but still laughing. When he noticed my skeptical look, he explained, "It hurts, it really hurts to laugh but it's still so damn funny for no apparent reason and that just makes it funnier." He shook his head, fighting back another laugh and wrapped an arm across his chest.

My eyebrows immediately furrowed in concern. "Oh god, Kurt, I didn't realize—I'm sorry, let me, um, c-call a nurse or something so we can get more pain medicine o-or something," I rambled, my hands fluttering around uselessly.

Kurt only cracked a small smile. "Blaine, calm down. I'm fine."

"I'm really getting tired of hearing that come out of your mouth," I breathed, "when we both know you're not."

Dr. Loury entered the room just then, hardly glancing up from his clipboard as he said, "Kurt, we're ready to take you to the scan now, if you are."

A few nurses walked in behind him, preparing Kurt to be moved. I noticed him repressing winces and gasps of pain, and I really wish he wouldn't. That's what nurses are here for; to make him feel better. Just as I was about to point out that it just may be time for more pain medicine, never mind the reaction of my boyfriend—was that what we were? I would have to remember to ask when this whole thing was done and over with—when Larissa (bless her) spoke up for me.

"Kurt, honey, your pain meds are all out. We'll get you some more after the scan."

Kurt just hissed in a breath and didn't meet her eyes.

The small group that had been working with Kurt headed with him out the door, and I was once again left alone in the sterile white room. I plopped into a nearby chair, very suddenly exhausted. This day had definitely taken a turn for the worst, and I couldn't wait until it was all behind me.

-:-Kurt-:-

I had foolishly thought that I was done dealing with things for today. Too many things have had to be "dealt with" lately, and I wanted nothing more than for this horrid day to end, hoping that the grass is, in fact, greener on the other side.

I had just been taken back to my room, settling back into the scratchy hospital sheets in hopes of catching a few hours of sleep before the nightmares struck once again.

Those hopes were immediately crushed when the door opened to reveal a group of teenagers, headed by a grudgingly familiar petite brunette. I held back a groan; this was beyond the last thing I wanted to deal with right now.

I didn't want them here. I didn't want their false concern or pity. I didn't want them to come in here, in front of Blaine, and pretend that everything is alright and that them giving a shit about me was as normal as the sunrise.

They flooded into the small room, forming a circle around my bed. Mercedes, Santana and Brittany shifted towards Blaine. Blaine glared at the two cheerleaders until Mercedes whispered something in his ear, and he nodded. The space was immediately filled with words I didn't want to hear.

"Oh god, Kurt, what happened?"

"Seriously, dude, are you alright?"

"Give me names, and I swear I'll bash in the faces of the people who did this."

"You must be terrified!"

"I feel so bad for you."

"You should have stayed at McKinley, Kurt. We could have looked after you."

I just blanched at them, annoyed and frankly put out by the sheer falseness of their words. "Seriously?" I asked, my tone dripping with disbelief. "Seriously?"

"Kurt, you're in the hospital! We're your friends, how could we not be worried?" Rachel said, stepping closer to my bedside. She reached for my hand, but I moved it away with an icy glare. On the other side of the bed, Brittany's delicate hand rested on top of mine.

"Oh, we're friends now, are we?" I said snidely, lacing my fingers with Brit's and squeezing.

Rachel blinked once, eyeing Brittany with confusion and a hint of disdain, "Well, of course, Kurt. Why would you—"

"Because if you were really my friends, you would have noticed how much of a living hell every moment in that damned school was for me, how badly I wanted out. You definitely don't have the best track record in terms of friendship," I said sarcastically, my mouth basically losing its filter. And at that moment, nothing seeming like a better idea than finally giving them a piece of my mind.

"There were times that I needed you," I admitted heatedly, reluctantly. "So many times where I needed you. And you were never there. Through all the slushies, and the slurs, and the dumpster tosses and locker slams, you stood by and did nothing. You were no better than those low-lives who witnessed it. You were no better than the ones who tortured me every single day." I couldn't stop my voice from rising as I went on, despite the explosions of pain it caused.

"You never cared. You cared more about who was hooking up with whom and who cheated and who was cheated on. You never even spared me a single thought! I can't even count how many times I've come into that fucking choir room covered in bruises or limping or covered in ice and corn syrup and you hardly batted an eyelash," my voice came out in almost a monotone, and I felt heat rise to my cheeks and my fists clench at my side. I had to be cutting off the circulation to poor Brittany's hand, but she didn't seem to mind- or even notice.

My breaths were heaving as I got more and more worked up, more and more angry, and the stinging, throbbing pain in my ribs only spurred me on. "You don't have the fucking right to walk in here and call yourselves my friends," I growled.

Rachel glared down at me, looking mad rather than ashamed. "Kurt, we were—are—all harassed! Each and every one of us! I know you're in the hospital and everything, but that doesn't give you the right to be even more attention-seeking than usual."

I let out a surprised huff of breath. I simply couldn't believe that words that were coming out of her mouth. Suddenly, when the tables are turned against her, it seems my being in the hospital isn't such a big deal after all. Rage simmered in deep in my gut, and I lurched forward in the bed, ignoring the bursts of pain, and all but screamed in her stupid face, "Attention-seeking? So now sexual assault and death threats are just pleas for pathetic attention? You know, Rachel, not everyone is as self-absorbed and conceited as you."

The room fell silent. It pleased me. I hope putting it harshly and bluntly, and all but shoving it in their faces would make these frauds see what was right in front of them.

"Kurt, that never happened—" Rachel started to protest, but her voice had the slightest tremble to it.

"Oh like hell it did!" I yelled. "Why else would I have finally transferred out of that shit hole?" I scoffed, plopping back into the pillows and musing aloud, "You know, I should be grateful for having fate completely against my happiness, because it finally gave me a legitimate reason to leave."

But Rachel was not one to be cowed easily, "I'm really sorry all that happened to you, Kurt, and I wish we had noticed so we could have helped you. But we were focusing on Sectionals, so it's only natural that some things slipped by the wayside."

"Oh," I laughed bitterly, "so Sectionals are more important than your 'friends'?"

As I had expected, Rachel immediately tried to defend herself. It was pathetic and I did not want to hear it. I was tired of them walking all over me. I slammed my hand down in the bed, bringing the room back into blessed silence.

"No."

"Pardon me?" Rachel said, her voice laced with snark.

"I am done listening to you spout off your pathetic excuses. You can't just walk in here and act like everything is okay. I refuse to deal with it anymore." My insides were still boiling, but I was glad that my voice sounded firm, sure, and definitely angry. My heart was pounding in my chest and my breathing was harsh. No matter how much it hurt, I was not about to back down now.

It seemed Blaine, ever the gentlemen, had noticed the heart monitor speed up, however. He cocked his head, silently asking me a question, and I almost imperceptibly lifted my chin in answer.

"Okay, everyone, I really think you should leave. Kurt really shouldn't be getting riled up like this," Blaine said diplomatically, letting his kind but firm gaze travel across the room.

Rachel stepped forward again, her fire rekindled. "And who are you to say so?" she challenged.

"A friend," he answered, only slightly hesitantly. I was both thankful and disappointed he didn't say we were more than friends. "A real friend."

"I highly doubt that," she said with a simpering smile. "Now, if you could just back off and let Kurt and I continue our conversation." I wanted to slap that overly condescending tone right of her smirking face.

"Rachel, back the hell off my boy," Mercedes snapped. Then, as an afterthought, she added, "And his boy."

"Stay out of this, Mercedes." Rachel waved her hand dismissively at Mercedes, treating her as if she was just a misbehaving child.

"Oh hell to the no!" Mercedes exclaimed, placing her hand next to Brittany's on my arm. "Listen here, little Miss Primadonna: Kurt does not want you here. Each of youhas been a half-ass friend, and frankly, he deserves better."

"Oh, like you?" Rachel asked with a sneer.

"Yes," I deadpanned, "Now, get the fuck out."

"Kurt!" Rachel gasped, her hand over her heart like I had seriously offended her. Like I was the one who had done something wrong.

"No, now," I insisted. "You do not get to just waltz in here and expect to make it all okay! There were very, very few of you who truly cared." Santana and Blaine both rested their hands on top of Mercedes and Brittany's, simultaneously giving me silent support and sending a big fuck you to the rest of the group. It gave me strength, and I powered on through the last of my tirade with a deep breath. "And now the rest of you are just taking pity on me. Well, guess what? That's bullshit." I glared at each of them in turn as I spat out the next few words. "You don't care, so don't pretend to."

I took a deep, cleansing, painful breath and smiled at them. "Now… Get. Out."

Looking properly chastised, the group headed towards the door. I couldn't help but feel the slightest bit guilty; each and every one of them looked like a kicked puppy, ears drooping and tails between their legs. God, you're such a fuck-up, I thought viciously. You can't even stand up for yourself properly. You just make everyone around you feel worse to make yourself feel better. You're no better than the bullies you were ranting about.

I glanced up at a hand placed next to me on the bed.

"I wish I was a better person, Kurt," Tina whispered, her voice slightly choked and her eyes shimmering. "I knew something was wrong, but I… I didn't do anything. And I apologize for that."

She walked away quickly, winding her arms around Mike's waist as she met him at the door. He gave me a sad smile and a nod as they continued down the hall. I sighed, dropping my face into my hands and fighting back tears of my own.

Then a different voice spoke up.

"Despite how rude and out of line this… tantrum has been, Kurt, we would love to have you and your voice back in the New Directions when you come to your senses."

I stiffened. Seriously, leave it to Rachel to completely disregard anything she didn't want to hear. I was about to open my mouth to give her a second dose, but Santana beat me to it.

"You just don't get it, do you?Back the fuck off my boy before I make you," Santana took a threatening step forwards, the muscles in her arms flexing as she balled her hands into fists.

Rachel bristled defiantly, "I'm just letting Kurt know he has options for when he drops this unacceptable act."

"That is it, bitch!" Santana snarled, grabbing Rachel roughly by the shoulders and slamming her back into the wall, rattling the precariously hung picture frames. Despite her outburst and the unpredictable situation that was Santana's body pinning a whimpering Rachel against the wall, her next words came out calm and almost cajoling. "You really ought to shut that big mouth of yours before I rip out your useless, annoying, overused vocal chords and feed them to your ravenous, carnivorous ego."

I could only watch on, my heart beat speeding with anger, pride, and uncertainty. I didn't know what to feel about this; sure, I loathed Rachel and everything she says she, but I also don't think it's right for Santana to go all Lima Heights Adjacent on her, despite how much my sadistic side would enjoy it.

"Santana—" I started to interject.

"No, Kurtie." It was a contradicting image. Santana still had Rachel trapped against the wall with a forearm braced across her chest, but her voice was soft and kind. "I will not let her do this to you. You deserve way better, and until she gets that through her thick skull, she'll have to answer to me." Her voice grew louder and fiercer when she turned back to Rachel.

"Here's the deal, Hobbit. You have no fucking idea what Kurt is going through. Frankly, none of us do! You and your insensitive need to win and be the fucking center of attention need to back the hell off."

"I was just saying—" Rachel started to protest meekly, her fingers prying at the arm pressing her ever harder back into the wall.

"Hijo de tu pinche madre!" Santana exclaimed exasperatedly. "This puta just doesn't know when to stop! News flash, hell dwarf! There are actually things more important than you and your fucking show choir competition."

Rachel's face contorted in rage, and her fingers clawing more forcefully into Santana's arm. "Oh really?" she snarled, "Like what?"

Santana blanched. Mercedes looked like she was more than ready to cut a bitch, and even Brittany looked offended. "Oh I don't know, Kurt's fucking life? Do you really have your head that far up your ass that you can't see that you've taken this bitchy diva act way too far?" Santana scoffed, dropping her and clenching her fists at her sides. Rachel gasped in a breath as Santana growled, "You are the most despicable creature to ever disgrace this planet. You need to take a long look in the mirror and sort out your seriously fucked up priorities."

Rachel was speechless. Santana roughly grabbed her by the arm and ushered her towards the door. Rachel dug her heels into the ground, spinning around to face me, her eyes shining with unshed tears. I couldn't shake the feeling that those tears were nothing but lies. "Kurt, please, I'm s—"

"Ya no! Ya he terminado de tartar de lidiar con usted y su mierda vete a la mierda!" Santana hissed, shoving the now sobbing Rachel out the door. The slam of the door echoed throughout the room now bathed in silence.

My thoughts were conflicted. I was confused, and suddenly I was feeling everything at once: embarrassment from basically losing my mind in front Blaine, restlessness and indignation at my inability to do anything about everything, pure rage at Rachel and New Direction's falseness, desperation to stop Santana from finally going too far, fear at the realization that I would have to eventually go home to my father, disgust at the IV that was pumping calories into my veins, sadness at how I could only cause grief and problems between people, and—

A thumb swiped tears off my cheeks, tears I hadn't even realized were falling. I don't even know what I was crying about, exactly. I couldn't tell if it was one thing specifically or just from emotional overload and I couldn't grasp how I should cope. I looked into the eyes of the person who was now cupping my cheek. Blaine.

I dropped my gaze, my cheeks burning red and a few more tears slipping out. Those few tears soon turned into more, and more, coming faster and heavier, leaving me gasping for breath. I wasn't making a sound. I was silent, apart from those few ragged breaths. I didn't know what I was feeling. I didn't know what to feel. I'm not actually sure if I was feeling anything at all. I felt empty, stripped bare.

Then a warm, comforting weight settled into the bed next to me, curling gently into me. "I missed you, Dolphin," Brittany whispered, stroking the back of my hand with her thumb. "I was really worried about you. I thought you had gotten lost in the ocean. It's so big; I never would have found you again."

A tiny, half-laugh bubbled past my lips. I shook my head slowly, smiling softly down at her and she rested her head on my shoulder. "Sorry, Boo."

"She's right, Porcelain," Santana said, her voice snarky as usual, but softer, and said with a smile she reserved only for those she truly cared for. "There's this thing called 'keeping in touch'. You failed. Miserably."

I cringed. I know I should have talked to them, called them, responded to their texts, but more often than not I was either too emotionally or physically drained to deal with anything. I had spent most nights after my transfer to Dalton lying in bed, staring at the ceiling unmoving as my phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand.

"But," Santana said with a smirk, "that doesn't matter now, because we have connections. Meaning, we have someone who can pester you for us, free of charge." Santana sent a significant look at Blaine. He tried to look skeptical in return, his eyebrow quirked up and his mouth set in a firm line, but he couldn't keep his face straight.

"My apologies, Santana, but it seems that I may be a bit biased in the favor of your opposition."

My face split into a smile, and I held back a round of chuckles while I shook my head. "You are incorrigible," I whispered. Blaine just winked slyly.

Now that everything was done with, it seemed, my welcomed visitors settled into chairs around my bedside. I relaxed into the pillows and rested my cheek on the top of Brittany's head, breathing shallowly.

We sat there in semi-comfortable silence for a little while, and despite the flares of pain making themselves known from spots all across my body, I nearly drifted off. Then Santana spoke up, her voice soft, gently teasing, and sad, "Oh, Porcelain, who'd you piss off this time?"

I scoffed. "Do you need me to make you a list?" I asked, "It might take a while."

Santana frowned. She opened her mouth to say something, but Mercedes spoke up first. "Kurtie," she protested, "seriously… Are you alright?"

"I'm f—" My eyes flashed to Blaine, my mouth halting in the formation of the word. I blinked. "I'm okay," I continued, "really, Cedes. I'm good."

Mercedes scanned me, her face a perfect mask of skepticism. But fortunately for me—and unfortunately for her as well, I suppose—I had the 'all is good' face mastered. I could see her suspicion subside, her expression changing, the gears shifting with an almost audible click.

Blaine, it seemed, could see right through my makeshift façade. He had this look in his eyes, like he was seeing right through me, tearing me open and seeing what lies at my very core—something I can't even seem to find myself. It was both disarming and overwhelmingly comforting; like I didn't have to carry the weight on my own, but I should.

"Kurtie?" Brittany whispered, poking my cheek. Santana, Mercedes, and Blaine were engaged in other conversation. Brittany shifted next to me, sitting up a bit straighter to look me in the eye. "Are you sure you're okay? You're acting a bit funny."

I stiffened slightly, but just readjusted my legs to cover it up. It seemed I was caught in one of her moments of quiet brilliance and awareness. "I-I'm as well as I could be, considering." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't a full truth, either. I was hoping it would at least get her to drop the subject. Something could get out if I wasn't careful.

"You're crazy. Truly insane," Blaine said with a laugh, causing Santana to grin.

"That's right, Frodo," Santana teased, "Clinically."

Blaine opened his mouth to retort, but a buzz from his pants pocket cut him off. He deftly extracted his phone from his pocket, glaring down at the screen although it had personally offended him. Which, as it seemed, it had.

He sighed, "That's my parents."

"Y-Your parents? I asked. The thought of him having people who worried about him, people who cared about where he was and when, had never occurred to me. Even worse, I had avoided at all costs thinking about the fact that he would have to leave. I would be stuck here in this hospital filled with dark pasts and pain and misery, with no one but myself. Without Blaine, who made everything better.

It scared me to think about how much I've come to depend on him, on his ray-of-sunshine personality and his ability to brighten my day and get me to smile, laugh even, on the darkest of days. He was my outlet, my confidant, my friend, my… possibly-more-than-friend, and he was a necessary part of my being. I needed him. And he was going.

"You're leaving?" My voice was despairingly soft. Too weak and too whiny and too needy.

He gave me a soft, reassuring smile. "Yes," he admitted, walking closer to my bedside and resting his hand on mine. "But I'll come back the minute they release me." I tried not to smile as he lowered his voice conspiratorially, "And even if they don't, I'll still be here. Promise."

I couldn't repress the smile this time. He started to lean towards me, just barely, but stopped. It almost looked like he had just twitched. His eyes glanced around at the girls, before flitting down to my lips and back to my eyes. I glanced at the girls, too, checking that they were so obviously not paying attention to us and very much involved in their own stimulating conversation.

He leaned in, pressing a soft, gentle, goodbye peck to my lips, but not pulling away. Unable to resist, I kissed him again, this one longer, more languid. I sighed happily into the kiss, loving the way his hand cupped my cheek, his thumb stroking in soothing circles.

It was as though he was sealing his promise with that kiss. Not just the promise of his return, but a promise to stay with me, make things better, see it all through. The kiss meant everything, things I couldn't even begin to understand through the Blaine-induced haze. I treasured that kiss.

When we finally parted, breathing a little deeper, Blaine whispered "I love you," into my ear. A warm, fuzzy, unfamiliar feeling stirred in my gut with those words, and I was too busy fighting the urge to smile and squeal like an idiotic pre-teen girl to fully form a response.

The soft taps of his shoes followed him out the door, trailing off and fading away down the hospital corridor until the click of the door closing cut it off, once again bathing the room in silence.

Silence.

"Get some!" Santana cheered. Brittany was jumping up and down and clapping—when had she left the bed?—and Mercedes was trying to look stoic and cross, but her wide grin betrayed her.

All three of them asked a question at once.

"Kurt! Why didn't you tell us?"

"When did this happen?"

"Is he a dolphin, too, Kurtie?"

"I didn't tell you because there was nothing to tell up until yesterday," I paused, "and yes Boo, he is a dolphin."

Another round of cheering filled the room, my cheeks flushing hot. It only worsened when the door swung open, revealing a still-smiling Larissa. "Pain meds, good sir?" she asked with a wink.

I smiled thankfully at her, releasing a breath I didn't know I was holding and relaxing muscles I didn't know I had tensed. I noticed how careful, how shallow my breathing was and felt it grow deeper as my body grew number and number, becoming lighter and limp as the meds took over.

"Wow, those work fast," I heard Mercedes' voice float to my ears, slightly muffled and distorted. I was just barely awake, sleep pulling at me fitfully, begging me to give in and let go, drop into its grasp. But I held on, trying to listen to the conversations still floating around me.

"Yeah, well, he needed them," Larissa whispered, her voice sad. "He's a trooper, this one. Maybe too much so."

"W-What do you mean?" Santana asked slowly, her forehead creasing in concern.

"He hides it. Masks it. The pain." Larissa explained, "The feelings."

A tangible sense of solemnity and sadness settled over the room. I didn't want to feel this. I didn't want to be the one causing this. I didn't want to be the reason, the source of everyone's worry and bad thoughts. I didn't want to be here, in this hospital because of my father, and I didn't want to have to work so hard to be perfect, through the pain and the sadness and the hurt. I didn't want to.

So I slept.

(A/N): So… I would love to know what you thought! :D

So basically, Larissa is the captain of the Klaine ship in this verse. If my description wasn't accurate enough… she was so fangirling. XD

So, um… I got a Tumblr! Livinglifewithlotsoflove . tumblr . com if you're interested in following me. (yeah… hint hint) ;)

… I know I had other things to say in this, but I forgot. Does that happen to anyone else?

So I guess for now, that's it and stuff. See you next time? Hopefully a lot sooner? :O

~DFTBA and Best Wishes!