The hospital waiting room was far too bright for this time of night.

The long fluorescent tubes that lined the ceilings were casting an eerie incandescent glow across the room. Leaving the once blindingly white room, slightly too yellow.

Blaine, Nick and Jeff were huddled in the far corner of the room; bunched together on some rickety plastic chairs around an old table; each with an untouched mug of coffee in their hands. Whilst Burt and Carole were curled together on an old faux leather couch as Burt sobbed quietly into his sleeve.


Blaine had been escorted back to Nick and Jeff almost immediately after the ambulances had left. Both Nick and Jeff were pleading with the officers to tell them where they were taking Kurt, but no one would say anything. Blaine was hunched over on the tarmac by Jeff's car. His knees pressed tightly to his chest as he sobbed whole heartedly into the fabric of his pants. It took at least 10 minutes before Nick and Jeff gave up; then wondered back over to the car with such dejected expressions one could cry.

They helped lift Blaine up to his feet, and Jeff pulled out a rumpled paper tissue from his pocket, and handed it to Blaine to dry his tears. They were all getting into the car when a small ginger lady ran over to them.

She too was clad in the Westerville Police uniform, but her face didn't speak of anger and frustration at the intruding boys.

She hurried over to them and rapped on the window of Jeff's door. He rolled it down tentatively and the ginger woman glanced around furtively, before leaning it.

'They're taking the three to Westerville Memorial.' She hissed. 'I'm not meant to say, but you boys tried so hard, you deserve to know...especially your friend.' She added, nodding towards Blaine, who was curled up in the back seat. 'The Chiefs contacting the next of kin right now, so they should join you at the hospital...you're after Mr Hummel right?'

The boys nodded. 'He's our best friend' Nick replied 'And...And...'

'It's ok.' The woman cooed, hushing the boy as he fumbled for words. 'I get it...don't worry...well...I mean...I take it your friend saw the ambulances right?...I saw him running and I guessed...'

Jeff nodded again.

'Tell him...Mr Hummel isn't dead.' She said, and Blaine shot up.

'What?' He exclaimed his eyes wide and jaw slack. The woman looked slightly surprised that Blaine heard her, or that he was listening in the first place, but she continued none the less.

'He's alive...he was in the first ambulance...he...he has extensive injuries...but for now...he's alive.'

'Oh...Oh God.' Blaine said, small tears welling up. 'He's...he's alive, Oh my God...Oh My GOD!' Blaine was smiling like an idiot now, his eyes lighting up, his mind choosing to ignore the second part of what she said in favour of preserving this new joy. 'Oh...thank you, thank you, Thank You!' He cried, clapping his hands together in his seat. 'Oh my god!'

'It's fine...just, be safe ok. No more dangerous driving. I can give you the Hospitals address if you'd like.'

Jeff nodded and the woman had pulled out a small white card from her pocket, and scribbled down the address. She handed it over to Jeff and gave the boys a nod as she pulled herself away from the car.

'You boys best get going.' She said. 'The clean up Op will be down here soon as will forensics and you don't want to get blocked in.'

The boys smiled and thanked her, before quickly plugging in the cards details in Jeff's sat-nav and driving off.


About 3 minutes into the drive, what the woman had said actually sunk in...

'Extensive injuries'... 'Alive...for now'...

Oh...Oh God!


They arrived around 20 minutes later and all hurtled towards the front desk.

Nick was the first to speak.

'Kurt Hummel.' He spoke, through breathless pants. 'Is Kurt Hummel here?'

The woman sat behind the desk glanced up from her copy of Cosmo, giving her gum and overly loud pop.

'Family?'

Jeff and Blaine both hesitated, before Nick replied. 'Yes. I'm his cousin, so's he ' He pointed to Jeff. 'That's his step-brother' he added, prodding Blaine's ribs. '..we go to boarding school nearby, we got here as soon as we could. Is he here?'

The woman gave them a sceptical loo before tapping her fingers across the keyboard. She rolled her jaw again and a large bubble appeared from her lips, which burst seconds later.

'You don't look like family.' She stated, in a monotonic voice. 'Are you sure-'

'Yes we're freaking sure.' Jeff cried, raising his hands above his head in exasperation. 'Look-' He took a deep breath. 'Can you please just tell me where the hell he is? ...because he's been missing for nearly a month and I want to Freaking see him!'

'No can do sir.' She said, smirking. 'I need proof of your relationship, once I have that then-'

'PLEASE.' Nick begged, cutting the receptionist off. 'Please, we just need to know if he's ok...please.' The final please came out as more of a whimper as the tears he had been trying to hold in begun to spring up.

The woman rolled her eyes and started typing again, never looking back up to meet the boys gaze. After a couple of moments, Nicks shoulders slumped, and he turned about to walk away, the others all following a similar suit when the woman spoke up.

'He's in the ER at the moment.' She called, still typing. 'No visitors.' She paused for a moment before adding. 'Waiting room's that way.' -and pointing left down the hall.


They had been waiting for little under an hour when Burt and Carole finally arrived. Both panting heavily and out of breath, having clearly just run into the hospital. Burt glanced around the almost empty waiting room when he caught a sight of the three warblers. He scowled slightly at the three but went to sit down anyway.

He and his wife took seat on a rickety old couch opposite the door. Burt's face was streaked with tears and Carole didn't look much better. It was very late by then and they both looked extremely tired. Carole's hair was stuck up slightly, and she kept running her fingers through trying to correct it, Burt had huge, heavy bags beneath his eyes. The Warblers hadn't seen him since this whole debarkal began and judging by the look of him, he was by no means handling this well, if at all.

His face was dark and there were long creases along his forehead, from a permanent frown. His eyes were tinged with red, slightly bloodshot and there were long strips of salt remnants on his cheeks from old tears. His body was frail. Not super skinny, but he had clearly lost a lot of weight. His clothes hung rather loosely on his frame and his hands had acquired a permanent tremor.

Blaine almost wanted to walk over there and hug him...but then he realised that Burt may still hold him more than a little responsible for what had happened to his son, so he thought better of it and stayed put.

He responded when Burt greeted the three boys, but other than that, they didn't speak...no one did.


Every time a Doctor or nurse walked past the waiting room, everyone inside tensed up, eyes fixed purposefully on the figure, watching their every movement; praying to whatever divinity they could think of that this would be the one. This would be the person with news of Kurt. The person to tell them that he was ok, that he was going to be ok, that he was awake or alive or anything.

By this point, it was reaching the early hours of the morning. The only sign of the time being the waiting room occupants extremely exhausted faces, and the old clock on the wall, that made an obnoxiously loud beep whenever a 10 minute period had passed.

Jeff had nearly fallen asleep, his head kept slumping down before he shot up again, shaking his head, trying to de-fuzz his mind, but to little affect. Carole had her chin tucked into the crease of Burt's neck, running her fingers up and down his arm as he stared into space, a blank expression occupying his tear stained face.


Nick had stood up, and wandered over to a vending machine on the far side of the room. His fingers pressed shakily at the buttons as he stuck a few coins in and waited for his drink to arrive. As he was heading back to his seat a man dressed in a long white lab coat, emerged through the double doors into the private waiting room. In his hands he clutched a small brown clip board. And on his face, he bore an expression of gloom and almost guilt.

Burt spun round when he heard the doors creak and as soon as he laid eyes on the man he leapt to his feet.

'Where's Kurt.' He cried, striding over to the man. 'Where the hell is my son?'

'Mr Hummel?' the man asked. Burt nodded, wringing his hands together with worry. 'I'm Doctor Fielding. I'm handling your son's case right now.'

'What's happening? Is he ok?' Burt half shouted, before Carole shot him a meaningful look... 'I mean...'

'I know perfectly well what you mean Mr Hummel...don't worry. We often have troubled loved ones pass through and you have been by no means the worst in here.'

'Is he...?' Burt trailed off, looking straight at the doctor. 'You know...?'

The doctor glanced around the room, taking note of the three teens gathered in the corner.

'Perhaps it would be best if we discuss this somewhere more...private?' Dr. Fielding said.

Burt glanced to Carole, who nodded, rubbing soothing circles on Burt's back all the while.

'Err...ok.' Burt replied, before quickly turning to the boys. 'We'll be back in a bit... kids...the doc just...wants to have a few words.'

The three just nodded, not even looking up to meet Burt's eye. The older man shrugged, and followed the doctor and his wife out of the waiting room and down the hall.


'Well the good news is, he's alive.' The doctor said, flipping through the bustling white pages clipped to the board in his hands. 'He's just come out of the ER and we are shipping him straight down to the IC unit...' he hesitated, his eyes flicking from Burt to Carole. 'He...He's not in the best of shapes, Mr Hummel.' He said, addressing Burt again. 'He has extensive wounds to his legs and chest and an incredibly deep wound to the wrist. He...he was almost fatally low on blood, he was barely holding on when we brought him in...His heart and thus pulse are still very weak...but he's alive.'

'What...what happens now?' Burt asked, his eyes shining with tears. By the looks of his wife, she was asking herself the same question.

'I'm afraid no one is allowed to see him for at least another 12 hours.' The doctor said. 'There is so much damage to his body that needs to be treated. Emergency surgery could only patch him up so much...tests and diagnostics need to be run. He's booked in for several X-rays, a full body MRI and possibly at CT scan after that... His wounds need treating and we need to keep refreshing his blood supply and his IV...at this point...the chances are ...well' he hesitated, blinking rapidly in succession '...we got to him just in time, any longer and he would probably wouldn't have made it...He was bleeding out in an incredibly unhygienic and toxic environment, his body was malnourished and he was suffering severe vitamin deficiencies from lack of food and sunlight... There are some very serious incisions on his back made with a badly contaminated tool...they need to be cleaned and disinfected... and what I'm telling you now is just what I remember off the top if my head Mr Hummel...there is more' he flipped through his clip board pages again '-and it's not pretty... just remember sir...he was on the cusp of death and that won't be cured over night.' The doctor swallowed. His knuckles going white as he clutched his clip board more and more tightly.

'We are placing him into a coma, Mr Hummel. It is medically induced and we should be able to pull him out in a day or two...but until then we have no concrete guarantee that he's going to make it...' He stuttered. 'A-as I said...the odds are in your favour...our team here is fantastic and we will do everything we can...but as a professional...I can't make any promises sir.'

'That's...' Burt sighed. 'That's good to know doctor, as long as he's alive.'