"Would you stop wiggling?" Santana demanded of her charge in the waiting room. Kurt hadn't brought anything to do in the waiting room, no phone or anything, so all he was doing was sitting next to her, staring at the floor, and shifting nervously. It was starting to become very irritating. Santana herself was at least reading a terrible doctor's-office-waiting-room magazine, though it seemed to be marketed for seven-year-olds, all bright colors and overly-sized short words. "We haven't even been waiting that long."
"Remind me why you're the oh-so-comforting presence assigned to me for what is to be a very nerve-wracking event," Kurt commented dryly, but Santana ignored the sass. She couldn't actually smack him, in case she broke him.
"Because Burt's at work, Carole's too nervous herself, and Finn's an asshole." Kurt started a little at her bluntness, but it was true. "And since I'm sure the next person on your mind, or maybe the only one, is the male Hobbit, I assure you he's as jumpy as you are right now." Kurt was silent, which was relieving, but Santana's magazine was starting to get boring. Time to pry. "When's the last time you saw him, anyway?"
"Rachel's Glee practice," was Kurt's absentminded reply. Technically, they were all calling it the Rachel Berry Glee Rehearsal Megaflop Spectacular, but Kurt probably wouldn't get the reference, since he had gotten his club history from Rachel. Kurt seemed to have gotten completely lost in his own thoughts, which wasn't very fun.
"Sounds like something happened, Hummel." Kurt didn't say anything. "Oh, come on. Blaine and I are close."
"Santana, I understand that your main goal in life is no longer to make unsuccessful attempts at crippling the Glee club, but that doesn't mean you aren't manipulative and sneaky, and to be honest, I don't trust a word that comes out of your mouth without verification."
"Racial profiling," Santana muttered, making Hummel snort and roll his eyes, but she actually wasn't lying. Blaine and she were in similar boats: crappy, neglectful parents and a big house all alone, plus all the bullying stuff. So, yeah, she didn't want to see those sad puppy eyes Anderson got whenever Hummel picked Hudson over him. "Considering the way he talks about you makes me want to puke rainbows, you have to know he's head-over-high-heels for you."
"I'm well aware," was all Kurt said, his eyes flickering around the office. They weren't entirely sure how this was going to work, whether they would be seeing Dr. Eastlake or Dr. Sanchez or even Jess, but Santana could tell he was nervous.
"Afraid your head is still too broken?" she asked, because there was only so much learning about the correlation between violence and video games one could do before becoming immeasurably bored.
"Of course I am," Kurt snapped, but she didn't take it personally. His head really was broken.
"Relax, Hummel."
"Kurt Hummel," someone called at almost the same time, and they both looked up, Kurt standing and Santana wondering to herself if Kurt wanted her to wait here or come in there with him. Judging by the panicked look he gave her when he noticed she was still sitting down, it was probably the latter.
"That's me," Kurt said, walking up to the doctor. Santana stood up, but she hung behind him, not particularly wanting to deal with more doctors. She wasn't a huge fan of hospitals, and she knew Hummel felt the same way.
"Hello, Mr. Hummel. I'm Dr. Abernathy." The man who was greeting them actually seemed like a decent human being, young enough that he was probably still in his first few years of doctoring. He had light brown hair and nervous green eyes and he would be almost cute if Santana was at all interested. She wasn't. Still, he wasn't as immediately repulsive as Dr. Eastlake. "I understand that Dr. Eastlake was your doctor while you were in the hospital, but as an ICU doctor his office hours are limited, so with your permission he was wondering if you could be transferred to my care." Dr. Abernathy sounded nervous.
"Since you've met the man, I'm sure you can understand why I'm enthused by the idea," Kurt said dryly, and Santana didn't bother to stifle her laugh. Kurt got mean when he was scared, but Dr. Abernathy seemed to understand that.
"All right, follow me." Dr. Abernathy turned and led them down a hallway through the office, out of the dull waiting room. Since Santana was still going to her pediatrician (her 18th birthday really needed to hurry up and arrive), she was a little weirded out by the lack of colorful drawings and animals on the wall. Judging by the way Hummel's eyes kept flickering around, he was too. "May I ask when you last had a physical?"
"Shouldn't you know that?" Kurt asked, and Santana could see him clenching and unclenching his fists.
"Hummel, be nice to the doctor," she spoke up, and it appeared to be the first time Dr. Abernathy noticed her. "At least he's better than the last asshole."
"Um, miss, language," Dr. Abernathy said to her before turning back to Kurt. "The hospital is being rather remiss in transferring your medical records, Mr. Hummel."
"I would say… last October?" Kurt answered, a little more calm, but he was obviously still hopped up on nerves. Santana rolled her eyes at the touchy-feely nature of everyone she knew and grabbed Hummel's hand, more squeezing it in a vice than holding it.
"I will have to check protocol, but it might require I give you a full examination." Dr. Abernathy stopped outside a door, pressed a button next to it in a panel, and then opened it, gesturing for them to go inside. "And is this your…" Dr. Abernathy trailed off, but neither Kurt nor Santana filled in his sentence for him, waiting to see his best guess. "Girlfriend?" he finally asked, and Kurt snorted, releasing Santana's hand.
"I'm just glad for your sake that you didn't say mother," was all Kurt said before sitting down on the bed in the room.
"I'm his ward," Santana answered, sitting in one of the chairs on the side. "I'm here to make sure he doesn't bite anyone." Kurt glared at her, and Dr. Abernathy looked between the two of them questioningly, making Santana wonder if he actually thought she was serious.
"I'll be back in a few minutes, please put on a gown," was all he said before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.
"He's going to think I'm a crazy person if you keep saying things like that," Kurt said as he grabbed a gown and ducked behind the screen.
"I hope you can actually fit underwear under jeans like those," Santana said, wishing Kurt didn't have the screen so she could make more jokes at his expense. "And you are a crazy person."
"Just when I was starting to think that you could actually be comforting," Kurt replied dryly as he threw his shirt over the screen in her general direction, and she wolf-whistled for the sake of it.
"Never thought you'd treat your clothes like that, Hummel, but maybe that's what Blaine likes about you."
Santana was sure the virgin was blushing, but he didn't say anything for a moment. "Everything I'm wearing is at least three seasons out of style. I figured they wouldn't exactly have hangers at the doctor's office." Santana refrained from commenting again as Kurt came out and sat on the bed again, in his gown and looking rather miserable.
"You're going to be fine, Hummel," was all she said, and thankfully before he could answer, Dr. Abernathy walked back in with a clipboard.
"We've gotten portions of your medical records, but unfortunately your last physical was not within six months, and I have to give you a full examination. I…" he looked at Santana, probably unsure of whether or not she should stay in the room.
"I'll leave when you drop Hummel's undies," she said casually, not giving the doctor much of a choice.
"Okay, then." Dr. Abernathy sat down on the doctor's stool and spun to face Kurt. "Today, along with a full examination, we'll be doing several scans and some basic questioning, to assess where your memory is and determine the likelihood of full recovery." Kurt's fingers dug into the edge of the bed, in danger of ripping the plastic covering, but the doctor either didn't notice or didn't want to comment. "Have you had any flashes of memory?"
"A few," Kurt answered, which was news to Santana. "Mostly bad things."
"Would you define all of your flashes as… transformative moments in your life? Things you would normally define as moments to remember, for lack of a better phrase?" Dr. Abernathy asked quite calmly, jotting down a few things on his clipboard.
"Yes," Kurt answered shortly.
"Have you been experiencing any symptoms you would classify as related to your head injury? Dizziness, vomiting, headaches, difficulty tolerating bright light, difficulty swallowing, numbness, bleeding from the ear, leaking cerebrospinal fluid, which is a thin, yellow-tainted liquid, from the ear or nose, lethargy, confusion, sudden loss of consciousness, irritability, difficulty concentrating or thinking, or any other abnormalities?"
"What would you do if someone answered all of the above?" Santana asked, making Kurt chuckle.
"My thanks to the peanut gallery," Dr. Abernathy said immediately, and then looked rather horrified with himself. Kurt started laughing.
"Dr. Abernathy, you give good sass."
"You can call me Danny," Dr. Abernathy said to Kurt, "especially since I'm going to be seeing you every week, possibly for a while."
"Dr. Danny, that's adorable," Santana commented, but both men in the room ignored her.
"As for symptoms, dizziness, headaches, confusion, and a little difficulty concentrating," Kurt answered.
"Oh, so all the nice ones," Danny said with a smile, checking off some boxes.
"You should include irritability, even if Hummel isn't willing to admit it. Though that may be a preexisting condition."
"I already did," Danny admitted. "No offense," he added, looking at Kurt, who shrugged. "I'm going to check your pupils, blood pressure, pulse, and breathing, and then we'll get started with the physical. I might have some more quick questions for you after your scan." Kurt nodded.
Santana sat there staring at the opposite wall as Dr. Abernathy touched Kurt in ways Blaine would be jealous of, seemingly going off a list fourteen pages long, which she could see on his clipboard. Kurt didn't complain (once he had fended off questions about being underweight), and Danny kept the conversation to a light minimum, mostly health-related stuff, so Santana was almost asleep when Dr. Abernathy finally mentioned now would be a good time for her to go.
Santana waited outside in the hallway, ignoring the questioning glances of everyone who walked by her, leaning against the wall and pulling out her phone. As soon as she turned it on, she got a barrage of text messages from Blaine, mostly to the effect that he was very angry she hadn't told him today was Kurt's doctor's appointment and where was it and why didn't she want him there. The collection also featured several voicemails, all of which she deleted without listening to. Instead, she called Hobbit.
"You're a vicious shrew," was how Blaine greeted her.
"And you're a ridiculous fairy boy, but I still called you."
"Why the hell didn't you tell me Kurt's doctor's appointment was today?" Blaine asked, not one to beat around the bush.
"Because Porcelain's nervous enough without you here. You can't tell me that you would manage to stay calm if Kurt got bad news, so don't even try. I can keep my cool, which is why Burt asked me to come with Kurt."
"How's it going?" Blaine asked, not bother to deny Santana's claim.
"I don't know, Anderson. I didn't even know Kurt was starting to remember things, which seems kind of rude." The silence on the other end of the line somehow sounded guilty. "Dr. Abernathy is treating everything like it's pretty normal, which might just be his way of staying calm or keeping Kurt calm, and Kurt's only having the mild side effects."
"Should I even ask what the bad side effects are?"
"Leaking blood or cerebrospinal fluid out your ears," Santana answered, and the sound Blaine made was disgusted. "Anyway, Dr. Abernathy is in there touching all the parts of Kurt you really want to, so I'm out in the hallway. They'll do some scans after the physical, and we'll know more then."
"Who's Dr. Abernathy?" Blaine asked, not commenting on Santana's description of the physical because he was far too used to her sense of humor.
"Dr. Eastlake apparently wanted to get rid of Kurt by claiming he doesn't have many office hours, so he transferred Kurt over to Dr. Abernathy. He's younger, but he's obviously a full-fledged doctor. He seems really nice, and Kurt seems to like him." Santana heard a little huff and rolled her eyes. "As a person, not a fuck buddy. For Pete's sake, could you be any more jealous?"
"Who's Pete?" was Blaine's sassy answer. "How is he? Is he okay?"
"How long has it been since you two talked, anyway?" Santana knew the answer Kurt had given her, but she wondered if it matched up. Kurt didn't seem to trust her at all, so Santana didn't trust him to be honest with her.
"The Rachel Berry Glee Rehearsal Megaflop Spectacular," Blaine admitted, and he also sounded like he was hiding something. Only she was much better at manipulating him.
"What happened?"
"I kissed him," Blaine said quietly, and Santana groaned.
"Haven't you been bitched out enough for messing with his head?"
"It wasn't like I grabbed him out of the blue and planted one on him. He asked me to! Mostly because he was afraid something exactly like that was going to happen, and that would really mess with his head, but he did ask."
"Like it has all that much room for decline," Santana said sarcastically.
"You never answered my question. Is he okay?"
"He's nervous," Santana admitted to Kurt's worried boyfriend, "but he seems fine. Dr. Abernathy seems good at calming him down and doesn't take his blatant hostility personally."
"Good, good," Blaine said absently. "Can you call me after his scans? Just… tell me the news before he does? So if it's bad, I have a chance to brace myself?"
"Will do," Santana was saying as Dr. Abernathy poked his head out and invited her back into the room.
As Santana was settling back in her chair, Dr. Abernathy was talking to Kurt. "Your physical was fine, there's nothing wrong with you, so you can get back in your clothes and I'll get the scans set up for you. Don't leave anything in this room, because we'll go to my office to get the results." He exited, and Kurt sighed, stretching out his arms and back before grabbing his clothes from the chair next to Santana and ducking behind the screen.
"I'm guessing you managed to entertain yourself," Kurt said rather sassily.
"As much as I'm sure Dr. Abernathy did," Santana replied. Kurt didn't say anything. "I was on the phone with your boyfriend."
"Blaine's not my boyfriend."
"Yet you immediately knew who I was referring to." Kurt didn't say anything to that, either. "And you asked him to kiss you, a request he was more than happy to fulfill." Santana wasn't sure if Kurt dropped something, but he definitely knocked over something heavy.
"He told you about that?"
"I told you we were close." Kurt sighed from behind the screen as he wiggled his impossibly-tight pants on. Santana recognized the familiar sounds. "What? You can't be regretting that. If Willow's to be believed, he's an excellent kisser," she teased Kurt, who fell for it.
"The problem is not his kissing skill," Kurt snapped. "The problem is… I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing." Santana stayed silent, waiting for him to explain himself, but Kurt didn't say anything else.
"I don't know what Wonder Twin would tell you," she said, thinking it through, "but everyone else who cares about you should be telling you that all you need to do is get better, and we'll take care of the rest."
"What if I never get better?" Kurt asked in a whisper, and Santana didn't have an answer for that. The Hudson-Hummel household would never be the same, since Kurt would probably hate Finn for a long time and be uncomfortable around Carole. The New Directions would probably treat Kurt like glass until he got so frustrated he quit. Blaine… she didn't even want to think about what Blaine might do if he realized that Kurt would never remember their relationship. It was a truly scary thought.
"Don't be such a pessimist," she eventually decided on, and Dr. Abernathy again saved her from a snappy retort.
"We're all set up," he assured Kurt, holding the door open for the two of them. Kurt took Santana's hand again as they left the room, and she didn't have the heart to say anything about it.
After two hours of scans and a painful wait to find out the results, Santana called Blaine. The tenor must have been hatching his phone, because he picked up before the first ring ended. "How is he?"
"Anderson, you could not sound more like a lost little puppy if you tried," Santana said, fighting back a grin at Blaine's attitude. It was ridiculous how in love with Kurt Blaine was, but it was also rather adorable. In small doses.
"Santana, please, can we save the witty repartee for when I can breathe properly?"
"Dr. Abernathy has looked at all of Kurt's scans and asked him a bunch of questions about the memories he's regained…" Santana didn't keep Blaine in suspense for too long, considering it sounded like he wasn't breathing on the other end, "and he expects that Kurt will make a full recovery."
"Does that mean…" Blaine started to ask, sounding ridiculously hopeful.
"That means Dr. Abernathy expects Kurt to get his memory back. All of it, though it may not be quite as comprehensive and clear as it was before." Santana didn't have words for how relieved Blaine's breath following that sentence was. It was like all of his worries and fears poured right out of him through his lungs.
"Thank you," he said, and Santana knew he was talking more to God than to her, but he even sounded lighter, like he could breathe properly again, knowing that Kurt was going to be all right, that Kurt was going to remember the months they had spent together.
"Of course," Santana began, ready to give him a full reality check, "we have absolutely no idea when or how Kurt will get his memory back. It could be all at once, tomorrow, or it could be in bits and pieces over the next fifty years."
"I don't care," Blaine breathed. "As long as he's okay." Santana had underestimated Blaine. He didn't care if Kurt remembered him or not, though having his boyfriend back would be an obvious plus. The only thing he cared about was Kurt's health and well-being, which was pretty incredible.
"I'm sure he'll call you with the good news at some point, or even drop by at the Hobbit household to see you. He seemed pretty surprised that you weren't here." Blaine grumbled something about being denied the opportunity, but Santana ignored him. "I should go, Kurt's still in there with the doctor."
"All right. Bye, Santana," Blaine said, and Santana didn't even get the chance to say goodbye before Blaine hung up.
"Bitch."
Blaine collapsed onto the bed that he had started to think of as his own, and started laughing before he could even process it. He was probably hysterical, but God, Kurt was going to be okay. He didn't have to worry about losing the love of his life for another seventy years, and nothing could make him happier.
For a long time Blaine just stared up at the ceiling, occasionally giggling in relief and not thinking very much beyond a mantra of 'Kurt's okay. Nothing's going to happen to him. He's really okay.' However, the bliss didn't last for long, just long enough for Rachel to finish her first set of afternoon scales (and really, she practiced way too much. It couldn't be good for her voice), and then Blaine's positive, uplifting thoughts were replaced by one nerve-wracking one.
What happens next?
Kurt wanted to act the way they had been at Dalton, more than friends but not willing to admit it to each other or themselves. Kurt had that option, having just met Blaine. But Blaine, no matter how hard he tried, couldn't forget…
"Do you believe in soul mates?" Kurt asked him one day, staring up at the ceiling of Blaine's dorm from the unoccupied bed. Their Warbler rehearsal had been long and hard, and neither of them were up for even going to the Lima Bean. Innovation is hard work.
"Of course I do," Blaine answered, looking over at Kurt from his own bed. Kurt's expression was inscrutable. "What? You don't?"
"I don't know," Kurt answered, and Blaine could tell this was going to be one of the heavy conversations they fell into all too often. "Doesn't the idea that people fall in love many times in their life kind of contradict the whole 'there's only one person in the world you're supposed to be with' thing?"
"Not really. I mean, you can be in love with someone who isn't your soulmate. It's entirely possible to love someone and for it to… just not be enough, I suppose." Why were they talking about this? Neither of them had any definitive experience on the subject anyway, besides each other. "Plus, I don't buy into that." Kurt made a little inquisitive noise, too lazy to form a real sentence. "I guess I don't believe that there's just one person that's absolutely perfect for you. Because if there was, what would be the odds you would ever meet them?" Blaine continued talking before Kurt could give him a snarky fake statistic. "I believe there are many people out there that could be perfect for us, and if you're lucky enough to meet one, you won't meet the others. And if that happens, there's always polygamy." Kurt snorted at that, knowing Blaine wasn't entirely serious.
"So, you believe in unending, undeniable love, but you deny the premise that there's only one person on earth who can provide you this?" Kurt asked, and Blaine made a valiant attempt not to seem self-conscious about his opinions.
"I suppose that's one way of putting it, yes." Kurt nodded slowly. "What do you believe?"
"Being gay in Ohio sucks," Kurt answered immediately, making Blaine laugh.
"I have to agree with you there." Kurt reached out a hand over the abyss between the two beds. "What?" Kurt reached a little further. "Are you seriously trying to make me stand up? Because that's really not going to happen." Kurt clenched his hand in the air, obviously waiting for Blaine's hand to be in his.
Blaine sighed, pulling himself off his mattress with a groan and protest from his sore muscles. "You should be really glad I'm whipped."
"I am," was all Kurt said in reply, and when Blaine walked over to the bed he had come to think of as Kurt's and took his boyfriend's hand, Kurt pulled the tenor towards himself, throwing Blaine off-balance and making him topple onto the bed next to Kurt.
"Was there a point to that?" Blaine asked, since he had just felt the effects of how bony Kurt was.
"Yes," Kurt said, wrapping an arm around Blaine's shoulders and pulling him closer until Blaine's head was resting on his chest.
"And people say I'm the cuddle monster," Blaine mumbled, but he was more than happy to wrap himself around Kurt and snuggle his head into the curve of Kurt's alabaster neck.
"Shut up."
Blaine was giggling to himself again, lost in the memories he had and Kurt would recover, when Rachel knocked on the door. She knocked three times sharply before opening it, having no time in her diva moments to wait for his reply. "Can I help you?" Blaine asked, too giddy to complain about her lack of manners.
"I want to talk about Finn," Rachel said immediately, sitting down on the end of Blaine's bed without invitation.
"And I want to do just about everything but," Blaine replied, because if there was one surefire way to ruin his good mood, it was to mention the idiot who had almost broken Kurt's head for good.
"Does repentance mean nothing anymore?" she demanded, increasing her volume to prove her point.
"Repentance doesn't mean anything when you're an ass," Blaine said brusquely, and Rachel huffed dramatically. "Rachel, can you imagine what could have happened that night? Kurt could have run away permanently or self-harmed or gotten in a car crash or…" Blaine sucked in a breath and continued, trying not to let his brain run away with terrible situations, and images to match. "I know Finn makes a lot of little mistakes on an almost-daily basis that we can all look past because we know he has good intentions and we love him, but this wasn't a little mistakes, and there can't be any little mistakes."
Rachel turned and fixed him with sad eyes. "I know Finn can be juvenile and impulsive, that he doesn't always make the right choices or think through the consequences of his actions, and I know he hasn't always been the best brother to Kurt. But he loves Kurt as much as you do."
"You really love him, don't you?" Blaine asked rhetorically, knowing Rachel's answer even before she nodded. She saw all the good in Finn and could justify the bad through his big, childish heart. "Why are you even talking to me about this?" He changed the flow of the conversation, knowing he could never make Rachel see her boyfriend's flaws. "I'm going to be mad at him for as long as I please; Kurt's the one you might be able to persuade." Although Kurt's crush on Finn had died painfully, something Blaine felt horribly guilty for being happy about, Kurt was still predisposed to forgive the big lug. It was in his nature.
"He won't listen to me! He doesn't trust me and I still think Kurt doesn't believe that we are friends… were friends." Rachel sounded miserable, and Blaine knew the feeling. "Kurt will listen to you. He trusts you. He always has."
"Rachel, let me ask you something. How would you feel if I put Finn in danger by… oh, I don't know, daring him to do something stupid or preying on his insecurities until he was beyond chair-kicking?" Rachel looked down at her lap, folding her hands primly on top of her mini-skirt as she considered Blaine's words. The tenor didn't stop to hear her answer. "Murderous. You would be ready to kill me. And no, maybe Finn didn't do it intentionally, but he knew how horribly Kurt reacted the first time, how could he imagine it would be better now? When Kurt's the most vulnerable? And Finn may not have meant to hurt Kurt, but he did. In the worst way possible. He preyed on Kurt's biggest insecurity, romance and love and sex and being discriminated against, and for someone like us all four are tied up in one horrible, conservatively-rejected bundle." Rachel still appeared to be considering.
"But Finn would forgive you," Rachel corrected him, and it took Blaine a moment to realize that she had gone back to his hypothetical. "You're right, I would never stop holding that against you, but Finn would forgive you if you apologized, because he has that much faith in people."
"Well, Rachel, Kurt's been through a lot in his life, so you have to forgive him for being a little bit cynical towards homophobic dickheads." Rachel opened her mouth to protest immediately. "I know Finn's not like that anymore. But there was a time when he pretended to be, and Kurt remembers that time more clearly than he remembers anything good about Finn. So, in Kurt's mind, he might as well be." That seemed to appease her. "Plus, we're much more alike than Kurt and Finn," he added, gesturing between them, knowing there was no way Rachel was going to change his mind, just like he would never try to change hers. "I love him, Rachel."
"So does Finn, and you shouldn't take your frustrations out on him!" she finally snapped, standing up so she could twirl on him demandingly. "Finn didn't mean to hurt Kurt, and maybe if you could be a little more supportive of your friend, Kurt could get back to the precious 'normal' that you're always talking about!"
Rachel's speech was very dramatic and impassioned, but Blaine's brain had gotten caught in a loop during the first sentence. "'Frustrations?'" Blaine asked, and any normal person would have taken the opportunity to criticize him for focusing on one piece of their point only. Thankfully, Rachel was crazy, and she instead took the opportunity to give another vehement speech.
"Not only do you want to be with Kurt so badly that you're here," maybe Rachel did realize how crazy everyone else found her, or maybe she was talking about Lima, "but you're so afraid of messing up yourself that you're projecting your anxieties onto Finn. Yes, Finn messed up, but until Kurt gets his memory back, there are probably going to be quite a few people who do the same thing. Maybe if you're just willing to admit that you can be one of them, that you can say the wrong thing without Kurt's world falling in, then you can forgive Finn. But you can't! Because you're trying to convince yourself that you're the linchpin in Kurt's world, that everything would fall apart if you weren't around to protect him, when the reality is that you've only known him for a week, and he probably wouldn't even notice if you were gone!"
Blaine just stared at her for a long time, not having anything to say to the sudden barrage of anger from Rachel, and she didn't seem to regret what she had said. "A week can mean a lot of things, Rachel," was all he said, having nothing better to say.
"But ten years means a whole lot more," was her excellent comeback as she left his room. Had Kurt and Finn known each other for that long?
"Have you mentioned it to your father?" Blaine asked as they sat down for coffee, Kurt picking at the printed label on his grande nonfat mocha nervously, a clear sign that the answer to his question was 'no.'
"Well, I-"
"May I ask why you haven't mentioned it?" Blaine interrupted, ignoring the terrifying glare that was sent his way. They had only known each other for a week, but Kurt was in hell, and apparently time moved differently there. Already, he was talking to the countertenor like he talked to Wes and David, and Kurt seemed to be trusting him in a way someone else as broken as Kurt was probably wouldn't.
"Blaine, you said it yourself, the tuition to go to Dalton is steep. My dad's recovering from a heart attack, and he works hard enough as it is. I couldn't ask him to pay that kind of money. He would have to put in more hours, or go more corporate, or even sell the shop!"
"You could get scholarships," Blaine suggested, and Kurt snorted. "I'm serious!" he defended himself. "I don't know about your grades, but I know the Warblers would take you in a heartbeat, and there's need-based financial aid as well." Mentioning the need-based aid probably wasn't helping Blaine's cause, but he didn't want to think about Kurt spending another year and a half at McKinley.
"The Warblers have never heard me sing, and neither have you," Kurt accused, which was true, but Blaine could convince Wes and David of almost anything.
"I've never heard you sing, no, but I've heard you speak, and if you have a matching register in song, the Warblers will scramble to have you. Countertenors are rare, but they make fantastic additions to a cappella groups, even if the quality is less than standard." Kurt grumbled, but couldn't dispute Blaine's logic. "You should talk to your father. I'm sure he's a reasonable man. More reasonable than you," Blaine added before he could filter his thoughts, and Kurt glared at him.
"My dad doesn't like charity."
"Need-based financial aid isn't charity! It's just…" Blaine trailed off, because no, it wasn't charity, but he could understand how it would feel like that. "The only thing that would be charity is if I offered to pay it for you."
"Something you would never do, because I would strangle you with your beloved bow ties." Blaine laughed at the threat, stroking the pink, polka-dotted bow tie he was wearing, because yes, he did have clothes other than a Dalton uniform, and Kurt loved to pick on his fashion sense.
"Exactly," he agreed, but they both knew what that meant. The offer was on the table. Blaine's family was wealthy and didn't pay much attention to their finances, Blaine could pay for Kurt to go to Dalton if the countertenor was willing to accept the charity. But he wasn't, and he probably never would be, no matter what happened.
"I would love to go to Dalton," Kurt admitted, clutching his coffee cup with both hands, "but the fact of the matter is that I don't see it happening, not anytime soon, anyway, and probably never."
Blaine smiled at the memory, because it had been less than a month after that particular conversation that Kurt enrolled in Dalton, going on his father's money and scholarships for both his grades and his voice, not a penny of 'charity' needed. Kurt was stubborn, but eventually he had realized that being terrorized wasn't worth his pride. With some convincing.
The more important part of that memory was the timeline, and Blaine knew exactly why it had popped into his head. For all intents and purposes, Kurt only had one week's worth of memory for him, and that week, the past week, didn't compare at all to the real first week they had spent together. Yes, Kurt seemed to be growing accustomed to the idea of having Blaine in his life, but only because everyone had told him that was the normal. If the situation had been different, if they had hid in the closet or broken up or something equally as horrible and their friends hand't been around to witness and then recount their relationship, Kurt wouldn't care about him at all. He wouldn't even be a blip on the countertenor's radar.
The first time, they had grown so close, so fast, because Kurt was going through something traumatic that Blaine could help him with. And yes, it was true that Kurt was going through something traumatic now, something that Blaine was trying to help him with, but this time Blaine was a part of the trauma, and it was probably worse and more terrifying for Blaine than it was for Kurt.
Because Kurt didn't know what he was missing.
Blaine stayed in his room for a long time, not wanting to face Rachel or have to admit that she was right. And she was. Kurt probably wouldn't notice if he went away, hell, he hadn't when Blaine was in Westerville, and he was being overprotective. However, he could make the argument that overprotectiveness wasn't the reason he was lashing out at Finn. The reason he was lashing out at Finn was because the idiot jock had upset the most important person in the world to him. Even if his feelings were now unrequited.
Blaine's phone rang before he could get angry thinking about Finn or Rachel could come in and lecture him again. He picked it up without looking. "Hello, Satan."
"Not a greeting I get very often," Kurt replied, and Blaine could hear the smile in his voice. "So, I'm guessing she stole the moment of good news?"
"No," Blaine lied. "I only said that because I was waiting for her to call. Are you already done?" He felt guilty about lying to Kurt, but in all fairness, Kurt didn't remember the pact they had made about always being honest with each other. Plus, this was one of those harmless white lies that usually don't come back to bite people on the ass… right?
"Yes, and I am one hundred percent good," Kurt said victoriously, and Blaine smiled. Even though he had already heard the news, it was nice to hear Kurt happy. "Danny said it's very likely that I'll get all of my memory back, though he has no idea when."
"'Danny?'" Blaine teased. "Don't get a crush on your doctor now."
"Why, because it would make you too jealous?" Kurt teased. Blaine was tempted to be honest, say 'yes,' but Kurt was flirting harmlessly, and he didn't want to ruin that.
"I just don't want you to have to deal with the awkwardness of getting hard during your physicals," Blaine replied instead, and wow, he couldn't have stuck his foot much farther in his mouth.
"I… "
"Please pretend I didn't just say that."
"Deal," Kurt said with a laugh. "Hopefully I won't have to do very many more of these visits. As nice as Danny is, it's still a little uncomfortable."
"Yes, it would be nice if you didn't have to get strip-searched every week." Okay, now he really needed to stop talking. The only sound on the other end was breathing, and judging by the stifled little noises, Kurt was trying hard not to laugh. "Oh, ha ha."
"Were you this bad at flirting the first time, and I just didn't notice?"
"It's entirely possible, you were pretty smitten," Blaine admitted, and Kurt did laugh at that. "So, any other good news from the hospital?"
"Sadly, no," Kurt answered. "How goes living with Rachel?"
"She's surprisingly tolerable," Blaine answered, because he didn't want to tell Kurt about the confrontation they'd just had. Yes, Kurt knew he was mad at Finn, but he didn't need to absorb any of Rachel's crazy, and he was very impressionable at the moment. "Well, she's tolerable if you can get used to the fact she sings morning, noon, and night, but I do that too, so…" Blaine shrugged even though Kurt couldn't see him.
"You don't have to do that, you know. For me," was all Kurt said.
"I like living with Rachel."
"I'm not entirely sure Rachel likes living with Rachel." Blaine couldn't help but chuckle at that.
"Well, you've never had to live with my brother. Next to him, Rachel's a sunny day in the park. He's an actor. That's a whole new level of crazy I hope Rachel will never reach."
"Sounds terrifying. Have I met him?"
"I took great lengths to make sure that you never had to." That made Kurt laugh. Blaine was about to make another joke at Cooper's expense (not that his older brother would care, since he loved the idea of Kurt and wanted badly to meet the countertenor) when his call-waiting beeped. Blaine took his phone away from his ear and looked at the name. Wes.
"Do you need to go?" Kurt asked quietly, and Blaine recognized the tone. The tone that meant Kurt reckoned everything in Blaine's life was more important than him, the very insecure one.
"Nah, he can wait," Blaine said, purposefully casual. "How are things on that side of town?" For people that spent a lot of time together, Rachel and Kurt lived pretty far apart.
"That's a remarkably calm-sounding question for someone who has promised to garrote my step-brother on several occasions." Kurt never called Finn his step-brother.
"Hmm…" Blaine hummed as though considering it. "I don't think garroting was ever my go-to insult. There was boot-stomping, throat-chopping, beating to death…"
"You know what I mean."
"I do. Just because I'm mad at him, doesn't mean you should be. Not that I think you don't have a right to be angry."
"He's changed a lot," Kurt said kind of absently. "I mean from what I remember. He's… matured, but I think he worries more now about what people think of him than he did before."
"What do you mean?" Blaine asked, leaning back against his pillows, content to listen to whatever Kurt wanted to tell him.
"I mean… Finn gets defensive about what he eats for breakfast. And I know that sounds like a relatively minor example, but that's my point. Finn worries about the minor things as much as he worries about the major ones."
"Well, in all fairness to… Finnegan," Blaine decided on, knowing Kurt didn't like it when he swore, "you do tend to nag him a lot about health and nutrition."
"Do I?"
"Yes," Blaine assured him, thinking about Kurt's little fits over all the processed food that had entered their house once Finn had moved in. However, he was determined not to drift off, because he knew this was important.
"What was our relationship like? Before?" Kurt asked, and that was the first question he had asked that had an easy answer.
"You were like brothers," Blaine answered honestly. "And I know that doesn't mean much to you, because you've never had a sibling in your memory, but I have one, and trust me, acting like brothers is not an easy thing, even for some brothers." Cooper had made a terrible brother, once upon a time. "I mean, no, things weren't always perfect, but he would cheer you up and protect you and you would nag him about food and homework and video games and it was… domestic." Blaine hadn't been over to the Hudson-Hummel household lately, but the next sentence slipped out. "I can't imagine it's like that now."
"Not even close," Kurt admitted. The countertenor was quiet for a few seconds, but Blaine didn't push. Ever since the accident, Kurt had taken a little more time to gather his thoughts. "Do you think I should forgive him?"
"Loaded question."
"I know."
"Do you want to forgive him?"
"That's a terrible answer."
"You always answer my questions with questions."
"I haven't know you long enough to always be doing anything," Kurt replied immediately, and Blaine ignored the slight awkwardness that followed when the countertenor realized exactly what he had said. There were a lot of things Kurt had always been doing, and it was disconcerting that his habits weren't quite the same now.
"I think Finn is an idiot," Blaine said honestly, "but I think he loves you. I know it's not easy to forgive him, I know there's no chance I'll be forgiving him anytime soon, but I think if you can, if you can get past not only what he did to you then but how poorly he handled it now, it would help you. In the long run."
"I remember that night," Kurt murmured. "I remember all the things he said to me. I just… I don't remember what lead up to it."
"And you're worried you're being unfair to Finn because you only remember one part of the story, and even hearing it isn't the same as feeling it?"
"Apparently, your mind-reading abilities are not linked to proximity."
"I just know you way too well. Kurt, there's no rush to get over what Finn did to you. I mean, I know you live with him, and it's uncomfortable, but you can avoid him sometimes, right?"
"A lot of the time," Kurt assured Blaine, making him feel better.
"So take your time. And if you start to forgive him, great. If you don't, it's his own stupid fault."
"I'm starting to believe that you are incredibly biased."
"Well, if you want the other extreme, talk to Rachel." Blaine's call-waiting beeped again, and he was ready to strangle Wes.
"I might do that," Kurt admitted. "Try to see the good in the situation."
"I would try to help, but I still want to garrote Finn."
"I told you garroting was one of your insults," Kurt said, and Blaine could tell that he was smiling as the countertenor hung up.
Blaine signed a little dreamily at his blank phone screen, then, glad no one had seen his moment of infatuation, finally flipped over to the two missed calls he had from Wes. "This better be good," was what he said when the phone picked up, before Wes even had the chance to greet him.
"You're so pleasant in the… that joke would have worked much better a few hours ago."
"Wes."
"I wanted to see how nostro cantante was doing."
"I would tell you that he really hates that nickname, but considering how weird he's been acting lately, he probably loves it."
"Blaine, you have to be realistic," Wes said in his calm, soothing voice of authority. "Kurt lost a year and a half of his life. Yes, all the big things are still going to be the same, but the little things you loved might not be around anymore. If you truly love him, you just have to accept who he is now, and maybe someday he'll be more like the boy you first knew."
"You are far too logical to be a human being. Next time I see you, I'm checking for wiring."
"David's job. Has it really been that long since you got laid?" Wes teased, and Blaine sighed.
"Never, Wes. You know this."
"And it entertains me enormously. So when's it going to happen?"
"With Kurt? It'll probably be years."
"As depressing as that prognosis is, I wasn't referring to your perpetual dry spell. I was referring to the fact that Kurt has no idea who any of the Warblers are, and they're starting to get antsy to meet him. I've threatened to… well, you don't need to know the details, but I promise you they've stopped bothering him."
"And that is precisely why I love you," Blaine said with a smile, because he could imagine the kind of threat Wes would have had to make in order to get all of the Warblers to leave one of their favorite ex-members alone. It probably wasn't pretty.
"You haven't answered my question."
"My virginity is firmly, ceaselessly in tact, Wes."
"Not that question."
"Things have… deteriorated on this end."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not even a little bit."
"So, no dice?"
"Nope. He's got enough problems with the people he already knows. I don't need to add a whole host of crazy to the equation."
"I reject the notion that I have no control over my subordinates."
"I find it amusing that you refer to that gaggle of monsters as your subordinates."
"Blaine."
"Wes, they're crazy. The Warblers have unusual sleeping habits, tendencies to destroy property, compulsive desires to play with dangerous animals, customs of reciting the Divine Comedy in the original Italian… you get my point, right? They're like a flock of crazy extras from How I Met Your Mother."
Wes was silent for a few moments. "You may have a point. David did almost explode a microwave yesterday… and that was while sleepwalking."
"Now, take them all conscious, caffeinated, excited, and in an unfamiliar environment, and stick a gullible boy with no memory in the middle." Blaine paused for effect before adding, "Imagine the disaster."
"I see your point."
Blaine and Wes talked for a while, Blaine starchily refusing to tell Wes anything about Kurt's incident with Finn. The more he talked about it, the more confused and angry he became, and the more of a headache he got. The migraine working at his temples right now reminded him of Kurt, which was just too sad to contemplate.
Rachel hadn't made a peep since the tongue-lashing she had given Blaine a few hours ago, not even doing her afternoon vocal around the time Blaine began to worry she had done something drastic (or even just ran off to comfort Finn, something he considered unconscionable at this point), his stomach started growling, and he headed downstairs. The house appeared to be empty; Mr. and Mr. Berry were both working and Rachel wasn't in her room. Blaine headed for the refrigerator, wondering if he was overstepping his bounds by snacking but too hungry to care. He grabbed a water bottle and a yogurt, and then caught sight of the note on the counter.
Walking over, he read it, internally swearing when he realized what it meant.
Dear Blaine,
It's time for an intervention. This feuding has gone on long enough, and you being mad at Finn is doing nothing to make anything between the two of them. I think it's time you take a step back, or several, and I know you won't do it on your own.
So, I've decided to help you.
Love, Rachel
Rachel switched off the engine of her lovely little car in front of Finn's house, turning off the music (because as much as she admired the classics, Taylor Swift's cover of American Girl was nothing compared to hers) and taking a breath. She knew Finn was at Noah's house, probably avoiding his step-brother by choosing to blow up zombies with his 'bro' (and she thought the nickname was ridiculous, but she couldn't discourage the practice in either of them).
She rapped quickly on the door, presuming by the lack of cars in the driveway that Kurt was all alone in the house, hopefully reviewing the material she was quizzing him on tomorrow or using the Internet to learn more about what he had missed in the world at large. Rachel was the best tutor he would ever have, but she had a limited amount of time and had resorted to informing Kurt more about his own personal world than the world they all inhabited.
Despite the fact that Kurt was doing something less important, it took him over three minutes to answer the door. "Hello, Rachel. To what do I owe the honor?" he asked, and she ignored the tremendous attitude in his question. This was a serious matter.
"We need to talk about Blaine." Rachel walked into the house, settling on the familiar couch and fixing Kurt with her most persuasive eyes. "You need to stop talking to him."
"Pardon?" Kurt asked, genuinely shocked rather than viciously sarcastic.
"Define normalcy."
"I would rather not play the mind games, if it's all the same to you," Kurt said, regaining his composure and sitting down next to Rachel on the couch. "Why ever do you think I need to stop talking to Blaine?"
"Normalcy is the state of being usual, typical, or expected. Ever since your accident, you have been bombarded by the unexpected, from Sam to Blaine to your improved relationship with your father to your expanded family. Blaine always preaches that you deserve to experience some normalcy, some sense of family and home. I know Blaine wants to be a part of that, but I don't think it's realistic."
"So, you've decided, based purely on the montage of self-centered thoughts that runs through your head twenty-four seven, that in order for me to achieve normal, I need to stop talking to the person whose fighting the most to make sure I feel that way?"
"Yes," Rachel replied calmly, knowing Kurt was skeptical. But Blaine was not only being controlling, he was trying to return to his normal, to their normal, instead of to Kurt's normal, and there was only one idea of normal the countertenor could handle right then: his own. "Let me ask you a question: how are things with Finn?"
"You ask me this question daily and still my answer is the same: I don't want to talk about Finn. I don't even want to talk about Blaine," he said pointedly, but Rachel wouldn't butt out, not this time. Her plan was best for everyone.
"Okay, fine. Let's not talk about Finn. What has Blaine said to you about Finn?"
"Blaine told me that if I can forgive Finn for not only being homophobic a year ago but also being an idiot now, it would be better for everyone in the long run." That gave Rachel pause, because Blaine had been firmly anti-forgiveness a few hours earlier, then she resisted the urge to beam with pride when she realized her conversation with Blaine had thankfully reached him.
"Blaine only said that because I made him realize that your world doesn't revolve around him anymore," Rachel insisted, and for some reason, Kurt frowned.
"Why would you say that?" Kurt sounded angry and upset, two emotions Rachel didn't normally associate with disillusioning crushes. "Look, Rachel, maybe that's true, and to be honest it scares me that my world used to revolve around him. But this is hard enough for everyone without you making him feel unimportant."
"And you think the two of you spending time together, him madly in love with you and you barely knowing him, will make him feel loved?"
"We have a system," Kurt said defensively.
"Kurt, I was there when you spent all your time pining over him and he didn't even seem to consider you as an option. And I know Blaine is the one who told you this story, but he's so oblivious that he probably couldn't tell you how much that time hurt you, because he didn't even know! You felt unattractive, unwanted, rejected… the same way Blaine will feel. You're using the same system, but now you're in the opposite positions." Kurt frowned again, but he seemed to be considering what she was saying.
"Blaine made it sound like our flirty system worked."
"He doesn't know that it didn't. Emotionally, it killed you to be enamored with him and to have him not take notice. How do you think he'll feel?"
"How do you think he'll feel if I just stop talking to him out of the blue?"
"I can handle Blaine, but you can't handle being around him right now. Give yourself a bit of time to heal. And for him, it must be like the worst break-up ever imagined. The only difference is, instead of wallowing in misery like people tend to after a break-up, he's the sad, pathetic ex clinging to the person who broke up with him, hoping they can have a second chance."
"I didn't break up with him!" Kurt said, clearly misunderstanding the idea of a hypothetical. "And what if we can have a second chance?" Kurt asked at a more reasonable volume.
"Kurt, you're the only one who knows what's going on inside of your head. Do you think Blaine will get a second chance in the next few weeks?" Kurt didn't have to answer, she could read his reply on his face. "Then give him the time he needs."
"What should I tell him?"
"Let me handle that."
"What did you do?" Blaine demanded of Rachel as soon as she walked in the door, home from the Hudmel's, so angry that he realized his vision was shaky because his whole body was quivering.
"Blaine, you know that I love you, and I recognize our common flaws. One of these flaws includes being quite bossy and, as Finn would put it, a 'controllist.'" Rachel smiled at the idiotic, childish, made-up term, but Blane couldn't have thought of anything that could put him in a worse mood at the start of the conversation, then she brought up Finn. "You can't control Kurt's recovery, because it's not a matter of environment or will. It's a matter of luck, and of faith." And of course, being Rachel, she had to put God into her conversation with an atheist.
Blaine didn't say anything, crossing the fridge and chugging the remainder of the water bottle he had gotten out earlier before ruthlessly crushing it and tossing it in the direction of the recycling box. He brushed past Rachel on his way to the couch, because he really needed to sit down. "Rachel," he said, slightly more calm, "what did you do?"
"I told Kurt he shouldn't talk to you, and I think it should be a reciprocal gesture," she answered immediately, primly sitting down next to him and folding her hands on her lap.
"And why, exactly, did you think this was a good idea?" he asked, clenching both fists in an attempt not to lose his temper.
"Because your roles have switched," she replied, remaining calm, and Blaine was so shocked his anger abated. A little.
"Pardon?"
"When you were at Dalton, he was infatuated with you, and even though you knew how he felt, you hardly paid any attention to it, instead chasing after other people and calling him unattractive and leading him on for months," she said brusquely, continuing before Blaine got the chance to object to a number of overstatements. "You crushed his spirit, Blaine, but I know you didn't realize it. Now, you're madly in love with him, and even though he knows how you feel, he tries to avoid the topic, instead focusing on himself and unintentionally leading you on by being unconsciously alluring… and I think he's crushing your spirit, even if neither of you are willing to admit it." Rachel paused, but Blaine didn't have anything to say to that. "The first time around, you had two options: date, or abandon each other. Now you only have the latter."
"What happens next?" Blaine asked her the same question that had been haunting him all day.
"Now, Kurt takes some time to heal. You take some time to get control of your feelings. He learns more about all he's missed, and you spend the summer here with me. I'll continue to tutor Kurt, which you shouldn't be directly involved in. When school starts, you can still see each other without it being so… intimate," was Rachel's chosen word, absolutely terrible and entirely sensible. Blaine sighed, because he knew she was partially right. It had only been a week since Kurt's accident, and so much had happened, most of which involved him. "
"I'll miss him," was Blaine's only comment.
"And I'm sure he'll miss you, a little. But as they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder."
"Absence makes the heart ache, maybe" Blaine commented, and Rachel smiled.
"I know you love him and want what's best for him, but you're not the person who needs to decide what's good for him at the moment." Rachel placed her hand gently over Blaine's. "I can be that person. Let me take over."
A/N: Gosh, it's been a while. I do apologize for that, but the problem was I came up with a fantastic idea for chapter 12 (which I've already made considerable progress on), and I had to come up with a way to get from point A to point B. Thus, the last few scenes of this chapter came into play. More soon, since chapter 12 is almost done!
Other points of interest: 'nostro cantante' hopefully means our singer, yes, I included flashbacks in this chapter because I missed writing them, and yes, Dr. Abernathy is a homage to my recent obsession with Bones. That is all.
Reviews are Love.