Blaine waited another half hour for everyone to leave Kurt's room so he could go in alone. He'd never been so nervous in his life. Of course, he knew it was only Kurt and there was nothing to be nervous about when it came to Kurt, because they loved each other and Kurt would never make fun of him or tease him for being nervous. And he wasn't nervous about that. He was nervous about seeing Kurt like this, laying in a hospital bed with wires and tubes going in and out of him.

With a heavy breath, Blaine pushed open the door to Kurt's hospital room and let it close quietly behind him. He was glad Kurt was unconscious because the whimper that escaped Blaine's throat was heart breaking even to him. The hospital room was small and as cozy as a hospital room could get, with the machines attached to Kurt beeping evenly and quietly. there was a window across the room, looking out over the busy streets of New York, and he knew Kurt would love the view He'd always loved the way he could see the streets from his apartment. Kurt's bed was in the middle, pushed up against the wall. There was a chair pulled up to the bedside that Blaine assumed Burt or Carole had put there, and he made his way to it hesitantly.

Once he was sitting down he chanced a glance up at Kurt. He took a sharp breath as he took in Kurt's pallid face, the color drained from it, making him look even paler than usual. His eyes were closed and Blaine could see the outline of his eye sockets. There was a gash on his cheek that was swollen and red, but it didn't have stitches. He had bruises along his arms and some just below his collar bone from what Blaine could see where the hospital gown hung off his shoulders. The rest of his body was tucked away under the hospital gown and the blanket, but Blaine imagined his stomach looked much worse than the rest of his body. He'd broken 6 ribs, after all. Blaine let out a shaky breath and took Kurt's hand in his own, his slender fingers cold to the touch. He sat there for maybe five minutes, the room silent as from the sound of the machines Kurt was hooked up to. When the sight of Kurt laying in the bed became too much, Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand gently before moving to stand up. He didn't think he could be in here much longer without wanting to cry. Just as he was getting to his feet he felt a weak squeeze on his palm and he froze. Could it have been Kurt? Was he finally waking up?

"Kurt?" he whispered, sinking back into the chair again. There was another squeeze on his finger and he dropped his gaze from Kurt's face to their interlocked hands, awaiting another squeeze. When he saw Kurt's fingers twitch in an attempt to squeeze again, he looked back up at his face just as his eyes opened up. "Hey, baby." he cooed, his voice light and soft as Kurt's baby blue eyes blinked once, twice.

"Hi," Kurt whispered, his voice barely audible from where Blaine was sitting at his bedside. He opened his mouth as if to say more, but he was suddenly overcome by a fit of coughs and Blaine sprang to his feet and got as close to the bed as he could without actually climbing in it.

"You okay?" Blaine asked. He felt stupid immediately after the words came out, because no, Kurt wasn't okay. But what else could he have asked? Kurt nodded his head, his brows furrowed and eyes shut.

"Yeah," he croaked, and Blaine could see how hard it was for him to speak. His lips were chapped and his throat was probably dry.

"I'll be right back, okay? I'm going to get a nurse."

"I- Okay," Kurt whispered again, and Blaine gave another quick squeeze to Kurt's hand in his own before leaving the room as jogging down the hall to the waiting room where Burt, Carole and Finn were still waiting. Rachel and Santana had gone back to their apartment to shower and change in hopes that Kurt would be awake when they returned, and Paul had bolted immediately after the meeting with the doctor. When Burt saw Blaine jogging in his direction he stood and Carole followed suit, Finn standing shortly after.

"He's awake," Blaine said a little breathlessly. "We need a nurse, he's thirsty and his lips are dry, and don't they need to run tests or something? Is he supposed to be so weak?" The questions came in a rush and Burt had to hold a hand up to Blaine's chest to get him to slow down.

"First things first, son. We need a nurse so they can get him taken care of, then we can ask more questions." Blaine nodded silently and followed Carole and Finn back to Kurt's room while Burt went to find a nurse. When he returned, a nurse following closely behind, he ushered Carole into the chair at Kurt's bedside and Blaine and Finn leaned against the wall, staying out of the way as the nurse poked and prodded every visible inch of Kurt's body. Just by watching Blaine could tell Kurt was in a pain, but how much he wasn't sure. He winced when the nurse pushed gently on his rib cage and when she asked how badly his head hurt on a scale of 1-10 he said a 6, though Blaine guessed it was probably more. He could see Burt visibly tense when the nurse reached for Kurt's head but Kurt didn't even flinch, and it made Blaine's heart ache for some reason. He'd become almost immune to feeling pain, it seemed. As far as Blaine knew Kurt was completely unaware of exactly how much damage Karofsky had caused and he wondered if anyone was planning on telling him.

After 20 minutes of watching the nurse poke at Kurt, she said she'd send the doctor in and then she was gone, leaving a semi-awkward silence between the five of them. Kurt stared at his hands in his lap and Carole leaned across the bed to hold them in her own. Kurt shot her a quick smile and Burt let out a heavy breath while Finn slouched against the wall next to Blaine, his eyes never leaving Kurt. Blaine cleared his throat awkwardly and Finn turned his head to shoot him a look. Blaine still hadn't gotten a chance to apologize for what he'd said on New Years and he was still feeling bad about it. Plus, Finn wouldn't stop shooting him dirty looks whenever they looked at each other.

"I need some air," Blaine said suddenly, glancing sadly at Kurt before pushing the door to his room open. He moved down the hall and out the front doors, to that same bench Burt had found him at before. This whole situation was so stressful, and so unexpected and it was all Blaine's fault. Kurt was lying in that hospital bed and Santana had suffered a concussion because of Blaine. If he hadn't jumped on Karofsky in that restaurant or provoked him none of this ever would've happened. He shook his head once before dropping it into his hands resting on his knees. No matter what anyone told him he would still feel guilty, but that wasn't the main concern right now. The main concern was getting Kurt better and bringing him home, then finding Karofsky and making sure he payed for what he did.

Blaine heard the faint sounds of a car pulling into the parking lot and the doors slamming shut, and he didn't really pay much attention to it until he heard footsteps and felt someone sit down on the bench next to him.

"Just go," Santana said, and Rachel was nodding when Blaine looked up. "What are you doing out here, Anderson?"

"I just needed some air," Blaine choked out. He hadn't realized how close to crying he'd been until he tried to speak. He cleared his throat. "He's awake if you want to go see him."

"Okay," Blaine thought Santana was going to just leave, and part of him wished she would, just so he could have this time alone, but she didn't. "Anderson. Talk." He took a shaky breath and sat back against the back of the bench, watching his breath leave his mouth as white clouds.

"I.. This - You, Kurt.. - Fuck, this is my fault," he broke, his voice coming out choppy and heavy. Santana didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around his much broader shoulders and rest her chin in his curls.

"This isn't your fault, Blaine. Stop beating yourself up about it." She said into his hair.

"B-But Kurt -"

"Kurt's fine; a little bruised, yeah. But he's been through worse, trust me. A few broken ribs is nothing to him." That shut Blaine up quickly; Kurt had been through worse. "Besides, this is that bastard Karofsky's fault, not yours. You're not the one who broke into our apartment and beat the shit out of him, Blaine."

"I -"

"You nothing, Blaine. This isn't your fault, you hear me?" Blaine didn't answer right away and Santana pulled away slightly so she could look him in the eyes. "Do you hear me?"

"Yes," Blaine whispered, his voice quiet and fragile.

"Good," She said, and Blaine expected her to let him go, but she pulled him back into her arms and he took comfort in her hold, nuzzling his face into her neck the way he would if it were Kurt holding him.

"What happened to him?" Blaine asked after a few minutes of silence. "You said he's been through worse."

"A better question is what hasn't happened to him. That boy's been through hell and back."

"I know.."

"What'd he tell you?" She asked gently.

"He told me about Karofsky his junior year. That's it," She nodded solemnly.

"You don't want to know the rest, Blaine. Believe me, you don't." She finally let her arms drop from around his shoulders and she turned to face the parking lot in front of them, staring out at nothing in particular. Blaine kept his eyes on her. "I was there, I watched him go through it. I never could have done that." She seemed to get lost in her train of thought but was brought back suddenly when she shook her head, turning her gaze back to Blaine.

"He's strong," Blaine whispered, and Santana scoffed.

"Stronger than you'll ever know," she decided before getting up and walking back in the direction of the hospital doors. She left Blaine out there on the bench alone and he sat back again, shutting his eyes and concentrating on his breathing. He wanted so badly to go hunt Karofsky down and beat the shit out of him again, but he didn't. He knew Burt wouldn't approve of it, as much as he'd like to do it himself, and if Kurt found out it would just piss him off. It didn't matter, anyways. As much as Blaine would enjoy watching Karofsky get beat up or beating him up himself, he didn't want to get himself in trouble, and besides, Kurt needed him right now. People can only stay strong for so long until they break, and Blaine thought Kurt might be at his breaking point by now.

When he finally got himself up off the bench and back into the halls of the hospital, he found Finn out in the waiting room instead of in Kurt's room with the others. He sighed and took the seat next to Finn, but didn't say anything. He waited to see if Finn would get up and leave, but he didn't, so he spoke.

"I'm sorry," Blaine said, turning to face Finn. "I didn't know.."

"It's okay." Finn deadpanned, his gaze not leaving the wall in front of him.

"You're a good brother," Blaine told him. "You are."

"I can't even stand up for him," Finn spat. "I let you beat the shit out of Karofsky when that should have been me, not you. He would have come looking for me,"

"Finn, thinking about what could have happened won't change what did happen. Kurt knows you'd do anything for him, okay? You're a good brother. He just needs us to be there right now,"

"I know, I know." Finn said. "And about what you said, it's okay."

"I'm still sorry I said it," Blaine stood.

"It's alright, man. C'mon." Finn wrapped an arm around his shoulder as he stood, and they made their way back to Kurt's room.