Chapter Eleven
Kurt didn't get a chance to confront Finn about what had happened in the garage, since he and both Burt and Carole had left before last period to drive to the hospital in Columbus. Apparently Rawlings had called the state's top neurologist to sit in on the tests as a consultant, which had only made Finn more nervous as his condition's seriousness elevated. Glee practice consisted mainly of Mercedes nearly ripping Rachel a new one as she rattled on about the importance of teamwork and complained about Finn's absence. Kurt finally decided to step in with a calm "Rachel, for your information, Finn had an important medical appointment that he couldn't afford to miss. So…shut up."
Now, it was almost seven-thirty, and Kurt's dad and stepfamily still hadn't gotten back. Kurt normally didn't mind being home alone, but neither Burt nor Carole were answering the cell phones, and it was making him anxious. He tried for over an hour to concentrate on his English homework, but finally threw his copy of King Henry V onto his desk and went upstairs. Maybe there was a rerun of Project Runway on TV or something.
Kurt had almost dozed off on the couch when he heard a car pull into the driveway. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he saw that it was nearly nine, and he shut the TV off, rushing toward the front door. Burt and Carole were just climbing out of the car.
"Where's Finn?" Kurt called.
"Shush," Carole said. "He's in the back. He's asleep."
Kurt sighed in relief. "What happened?"
Burt gave his son's shoulder a squeeze. "I'll tell you later. Let's just get Finn inside."
It was difficult to move a barely-conscious six-foot-four seventeen-year old, but somehow Kurt and Burt managed to get Finn out of the car and into the house, letting him drop heavily onto the couch.
"Jesus," Kurt said as Finn mumbled something incoherent and rolled over, his arm trailing on the floor. "Did they give him sleeping pills?"
"Injection, actually," Burt said, walking back into the kitchen, where Carole was brewing tea for herself and Kurt. "Since the pills didn't work, they had to give him something stronger. He was out before we left the hospital; we had to use a wheelchair to get him to the car."
"Wow." Kurt sat at the table across from his father. "So…what happened? What did the doctor say?"
"Well, they certainly put him through his paces," Carole said. "I can't think of a single thing they didn't test him for."
"You shoulda seen him during the reflex exam," Burt said, taking his hat off and rubbing a hand over his bald scalp. He yawned.
"Reflex exam?" Kurt echoed.
"Yeah, they put him in a room and had one of those machines that shoots tennis balls."
Kurt gave his head a shake. "That's…weird. And what about the other doctor? The neurologist?"
"Dr. MacPherson." Carole sat down, handing Kurt his tea. "He's a goddamn shark."
Kurt's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the venom in his stepmother's voice; Burt placed a soothing hand on her forearm. "You know that he can't do anything without consent."
"What happened?" Kurt prompted.
Burt sighed. "The guy wants to do brain surgery. Exploratory brain surgery."
"That's – that's…" Kurt stammered. "God, I don't even know what that is. That's disturbing."
"Yeah, well, he's not going anywhere near that kid with a scalpel, you can be sure of that," Burt growled.
"And what about the IQ test?"
Carole and Burt exchanged a look, making the worry in Kurt's gut rise up again. "MacPherson and Rawlings said that his IQ went even higher since the MRI," Carole said.
"What? How much higher?"
"Another fifteen points."
"In a week?"
"But they said it's slowing down," Burt explained. "They figure he'll hit the peak at around two-forty-five, sometime within the next month."
"That's…insane," Kurt breathed. "And they still have no idea why this is happening?"
Carole sighed. "No. The CT was clean, the lumbar puncture was clean, the blood scans were clean. Everything was clean. There's nothing."
"Dude, where's Finn?"
Kurt turned around from his locker to find Puck approaching him. "He's at home."
"Why?"
"He's not feeling well."
"Is this something to do with his doctor thing yesterday and all the weird shit he's been doing?" When Kurt didn't reply, Puck snarled, "Look, man, if you don't give me a straight answer, I can easily call Karofsky and Azimio, because they have been dying to toss you in the dumpster."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "I hope you realize just how empty your threats really sound. Finn is at home right now because his sleeping meds hadn't worn off by this morning."
Puck's brows snapped together, the vaguely threatening expression vanishing only to be replaced with one of consternation. "Sleeping meds?"
Kurt frowned. "You didn't know he's having trouble sleeping?"
"I had a hunch. I mean, the guy came into school looking like Night of the Living Dead – it was kinda obvious there was something up," Puck said. He leaned against the wall of lockers. "What kinda trouble?"
Heaving his massive history textbook into his bag, Kurt replied, "Well, last night was the first time he's actually slept in a full month. And that was only because they drugged him."
"Holy shit."
"We're in agreement." Kurt studied him. "Wait, why hasn't Finn told you this already?"
Puck shrugged nonchalantly, but there seemed to be something more, something he wasn't willing to admit. "In case you didn't notice, Finn's been weird lately."
"Do I sense some bitterness?" Kurt asked, tilting his head to the side.
"What the fuck, Hummel? Don't analyze me."
Kurt sighed, forcing himself to soften up (which really just sounded silly when one was speaking to Noah Puckerman). "Puck, I know you may be a little bit jealous about the fact that I know more about what's going on with Finn than you do, but I—"
"Seriously, Hummel, fuck off."
"First of all, you're standing at my locker," Kurt stated. "And second, have you noticed that the number of curse words punctuating your dialogue increases greatly when you're emotionally unstable?"
"…What?"
Kurt sighed. "You swear more when you're pissed," he translated.
"What the fuck did I just say about analyzing me?"
"See? Swearing again. As I was saying, I know you might be a little bit jealous, but Finn and I are stepbrothers, and that entitles me to certain insights into his private life, especially since the two of us share a room. But you are still his best friend. He hasn't kicked you to the curb." Kurt hefted his bag onto his shoulder. "He'll be back to school tomorrow; you can talk to him then."
A/N: I love writing Puck/Kurt interactions. Leave a review!
