The rest of the night passed in a blur. Later Kurt could only remember bits and pieces of it, and only knew one thing for sure: it was the longest, worst night of his life.
Blaine was collapsed, unconscious, on the bathroom floor. First Kurt yelled for someone to call 911, but no one heard him over the music Artie was blasting. Then he thought maybe Blaine just passed out, like a regular drunk person, and could be woken up. So Kurt yelled at him, and shook him, and squeezed his hand, and screamed in his ear, but nothing happened. Then, without knowing how, he managed to throw Blaine's limp arms over his shoulders and picked him up, and carried him out to the living room. Everyone stopped dancing to stare, and Artie finally turned the music off, so the whole room fell silent.
"Someone, call 911," he choked out, his voice almost gone from yelling.
Mercedes already had her phone out, so she called. When the ambulance arrived she wanted to go with them, but only one person was allowed to ride with Blaine, so she followed them in her car.
Kurt didn't want to let go of Blaine, ever, but the paramedics pulled him away and threw him on a stretcher and Kurt could hardly get a good look at him after that, much less touch him.
When they arrived at the hospital they rushed him into a room that Kurt wasn't allowed to enter, so he had to sit with Mercedes in the waiting room.
First they sat without moving or speaking. Kurt stared into space. He was supposed to be filling out paperwork on a clipboard, he was supposed to give the nurse Blaine's parents' phone number, but he couldn't move.
The nurse kept giving him impatient looks from across the lobby, and finally she took a seat across from him. "Hon, we really need to tell this boy's parents their son is in the hospital. You know his home phone number, don't you?"
Kurt still couldn't move. He wanted to tell her the number, but it was like his throat had closed up.
Mercedes took it upon herself to lean into Kurt and pull his phone from his pocket. She pressed a few buttons and then held it in front of his eyes. "Is that it?" she asked.
He nodded, moving his head a fraction of an inch, and Mercedes read it out to the nurse.
"And what's his name, hon?" the nurse asked.
"It's Blaine Anderson," Mercedes said.
"How old is he?"
"16," she said. "No… he's 17 now."
"Do you know if he's on any medication?"
Kurt broke a little at that, he slumped forward and put his hands to his face.
"Yeah… I think he's on a lot," Mercedes said.
"Do you know which ones?"
She shook her head. "No… do you, Kurt?"
He shook his head from behind his hands.
"It's okay, I'll ask his parents. Sit tight," the nurse said, and went back to the desk.
A couple of minutes later a doctor emerged from Blaine's room. Kurt jumped up, ready to hear any good news, or to vehemently deny any bad news.
"Is he okay?" Kurt asked, when the doctor didn't seem to want to say anything first.
"I can't tell you much," he said. "You're not related, and you're both underage. I can't tell you anything before I tell his family."
"But is he okay?" Kurt asked again. The least he could do would be to tell him if Blaine was alive… or not.
The doctor made a series of uncomfortable faces and finally said, "He's in critical, stable condition."
"So he's okay? He's okay, Kurt!" Mercedes said behind him.
"But critical?" Kurt asked.
"But stable!" Mercedes said.
"What does that mean?" Kurt asked the doctor.
"I can't tell you anything else," he replied, and began to walk away. Not back to Blaine's room, but towards the front doors of the E.R. that led to the parking lot.
"Where are you going?" Kurt asked, a little ruder than he would ordinarily be to strangers, because of stress.
"My shift is over. He's being transfered, and there are plenty of nurses to watch him overnight."
"Transfered?" Kurt spun around in time to see nurses pushing Blaine, asleep in bed, down a hallway. He ran after them, forgetting the doctor, and Mercedes ran after him.
While Kurt argued with the nurses, who still wouldn't let him see Blaine or go into his new room, Mercedes called Burt with Kurt's phone. It was a short conversation; Burt didn't need much information to know he needed to meet his son at the hospital, even if Kurt wasn't the patient.
Kurt heard the tail end of Mercedes' call to Burt. He'd been avoiding calling his father because he thought he might make him go home, and he couldn't. He wouldn't. But he couldn't deny he wanted Burt to be there. He took his phone back from Mercedes when she hung up and dialed someone else completely.
It only rang once. "What happened?"
"Cooper," Kurt sobbed, and dropped into a chair, gripping the plastic arm of it. All he wanted was for this to be like last time, for Cooper to convince the doctors and nurses to let Kurt see Blaine, for him to be so sure that Kurt could save him. "It's all my fault," he cried.
"Calm down, Kurt, and tell me what happened. Is Blaine okay?"
With gasping breaths Kurt explained the party and the stupid drinking contest, and how it probably reacted with Blaine's medication, and how now Blaine wouldn't wake up. "I should have known. I should have been thinking."
"It's not your fault. Blaine knew, and he can make his own decisions. He's young, and he made a stupid one. Do my parents know?"
"Yes, and they're on their way here. The doctors and nurses won't let me see him, Cooper, and when your parents get here I'll probably never see him again." The gravity of his words hit him after he said them. What if Blaine died, that very night, and Kurt never got to see him again? He felt dizzy suddenly, like the whole room lurched and spun.
"Let me talk to one of his nurses," Cooper said.
Kurt managed to wobble to the desk and said Blaine's brother wanted to speak to her. She looked annoyed, but she took it.
Kurt waited impatiently, hoping that Cooper was working his magic.
"Yes?" the woman said into the phone. "No. No. No." Then she looked up at Kurt. "Really? But… No, I… But…" she sighed and handed the phone back. "You have five minutes."
Kurt gasped and put the phone to his ear. "Really?"
"I told her you're his soulmate and you're going to save his life," Cooper said.
"I'm going right now, before anyone else gets here," Kurt said, and practically tripped over his own feet to get to the door.
"I'll fly out tomorrow. Don't worry, he'll be okay."
Kurt hung up and burst into Blaine's room. "Five minutes!" the nurse yelled again before he shut the door.
Blaine was sleeping in the bed, on his back, hooked up to machines and IVs just as he'd been the first time Kurt saw him. Except this time there was a darkening bruise on his forehead, from when he fell to the bathroom floor. Kurt wondered how stupid he could possibly be. He'd just made such a big deal about Blaine's head being hurt, and now he'd basically let him hit it again.
No one had the time to bring chairs in for visitors yet, but Kurt didn't care. He didn't want to sit next to Blaine's bed. He wanted to be in the bed with him, to be that close to him and hold him.
He took off his shoes and climbed up, knowing if a nurse or doctor found him doing it he'd probably be banned from the hospital for life. He put an arm around Blaine's waist and pulled himself up close.
"I'm so sorry, Blaine," he whispered. "I would try to kiss you awake this time like Sleeping Beauty, but I don't think I deserve to kiss you ever again. When you wake up, which you will, and soon, you're going to be so mad at me. And disappointed in me. But it's okay, because I'm mad and disappointed in myself. All we were supposed to do was be there for each other, right? And I wasn't. It didn't even take me six months to screw it up. I'm not stupid enough to think I need to constantly be with you and make all your decisions for you, or stalk you in order to take care of you. I just should have known better, this time. I hate myself for not stopping you, and not watching you afterward. I hate that I even brought you to that party. We could have spent the weekend at my house again. Alone, mostly. We could have been safe in my bed right now. Awake, and happy."
He heard the raised voices of men outside the door. They weren't yelling, but they were loud and agitated. Slowly Kurt realized it was Burt and Blaine's father, arguing about something. Probably Kurt. Almost certainly Kurt.
"I have to go," he whispered, and that made him sadder than almost anything else. "Your dad won't let me stay. But I'll come back, every single day, until you get out of here. If your dad won't let me see you at all, I'll be in the waiting room, or sitting outside your window. Even if they put you on the top floor I'll be out there, trying to let you know somehow that you're not alone."
He waited, hoping that Blaine would move a little, or squeeze his hand, or try to open his eyes, anything he'd done before. But nothing happened. He didn't give any sign he knew Kurt was there at all. And that had never happened before.
Kurt rolled off the bed and put his shoes back on before anyone opened the door. He told Blaine he loved him, and went back into the waiting room.
Burt and Blaine's father weren't yelling anymore. In fact, they were speaking weirdly cordially. Carole and Mercedes ran up to him when they saw him, and put their arms around his waist, as though he looked like he might be having trouble standing. Finn was there, too, but he looked pretty out of it, curled in on himself in a chair. He was next to a women who looked like she was trying to avoid eye contact with everyone. Kurt assumed she was Blaine's mother.
Burt and Blaine's father both turned to look at Kurt. He felt awful and completely guilty, like both of them were waiting for him to explain, with good reason, why he had practically just killed Blaine. But he didn't know what to say.
Instead, surprisingly, Blaine's father spoke first. "Kurt," he said, and sighed like he didn't want to say what he was about to say. "No matter what happens, I would like to see you tomorrow. My son, Cooper, is vehement that you… have a way with Blaine. I'm not willing to ignore anything that might help him get better. I'd like you to come back and visit him as often as you'd like."
Kurt felt like he was going to burst into tears. What on earth had Burt said to him? The man was like a different person. Or maybe he had a change of heart because this time Blaine seemed much worse, more fragile, and he was scared like he wasn't before.
"But tonight I'd like for my family to be alone." Blaine's father gave a fleeting look at Mercedes, Burt, Carole, and Finn.
Kurt was heartbroken. He felt like he should be part of Blaine's family. But he just nodded, and managed to choke out, "I understand."
Carole and Mercedes gently led him away, to the doors, to the car, and away from the hospital without another word. Mercedes took her own car home and promised Kurt she'd answer her phone any time the next few days, if anything happened, or if he needed to talk.
The car ride home was silent. Carole let Kurt sit in the front seat next to Burt, but he didn't know what to say. He only made it into the front door of their house before he broke down and hugged Burt, and cried his heart out for so long he lost track of time. When he finally ran out of tears Burt kissed the top of his head and said he'd stay with Kurt all night, if he wanted, but Kurt shook his head. He wanted to be alone.
He intended to sit on the couch in the dark and watch TV all night. The more mind numbing, the better. He didn't even entertain the idea of trying to go to sleep. He kept his phone by his leg, hoping Cooper wouldn't have to call him.
After an hour, he heard shuffling in the kitchen. A minute later Finn came out with two sandwiches on plates. He handed one to Kurt and sat next to him. He hadn't said a word to Kurt since the party, even though he'd been there all along.
"I'm sorry," he said first, picking at the crust of his bread.
Kurt wasn't sure what he was apologizing for, or why, or what he should say in return. So he said instead, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"No one knows about it. Only me and my mom. And now you and Rachel. I just thought… you'd make fun of me."
Kurt glared at him. "Me? Make fun of you?"
"Not… not for being gay, or whatever. For hiding it for so long. I mean, for pretending to be something I'm not."
"I don't think you're pretending anything. This is the real you. You were the real you yesterday, before I knew, and you're still him."
Finn didn't say anything. He kept his eyes on his plate.
"This doesn't mean you aren't allowed to like football, or cars, or girls, or anything. I believe you really love Rachel. And that you genuinely want to sleep with most of the girls at school. And that's fine. It's also fine to meet a boy and fall in love with him—"
"But I don't wantto," Finn protested. "I don't even want to think about it."
"But it might not happen for a long time, it might not ever happen. More people never find their soulmates. It's not likely at all. We're the minority."
"Except for my mom, my stepdad, and my brother. The majority of my family have theirs."
"Well, wouldn't it be nice to meet someone so amazing that he makes you change your mind? Question everything you ever thought? Like, a life altering romance?"
Finn frowned and blinked at the TV in thought. "No."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Fine."
"It does feel better not to have to lie to you about it anymore," Finn said. "But what am I going to do about Rachel?"
"Do you still want to be with her?"
He shrugged. "I don't know what I want anymore."
"Then you should just be honest with her. Maybe talking about it with her will help you figure it out."
Finn sighed. "Do you feel sick? You know, because of Blaine? Like last time?"
Kurt shook his head. "No, not other than being sick with misery because of what happened."
"Do you think you'd know it if… if something really bad happened?"
"I hope so. I don't want want to be the last to know. I shouldn't be the last to know."
"No," Finn said. "You shouldn't."
They stayed on the couch together all night. After a while they got so tired they stopped talking. They both fell asleep on their respective sides of the couch at some point. Kurt jumped awake when a new text message beeped from his phone. The sun was up. The night had passed.
The text was from Cooper. "He's okay," it said. "Thank you."