Chapter Twenty-Nine: He Doesn't Deserve This
"Blaine, I'm going to go wake up Kurt, okay?"
His exhausted, frightened eyes met mine and he nodded. He'd just gotten settled in a hospital room and was trembling on the bed while strapped to a mask pumping medication and oxygen into his lungs as an IV dripped steroids into his blood.
"Do you want me to get Rachel too?"
He shook his head pleadingly, and I understood. "I'll be right back, okay? You'll be okay?"
He nodded, and I left quickly.
I went quietly to the RV and gently shook Kurt awake. "Kurt? Kurt, wake up."
He mumbled something incoherent and rolled over, reaching instinctively for the empty space on the bed where Blaine should have been.
He sat up in confusion when he realized Blaine wasn't there; Blaine never got up before Kurt.
Kurt looked at his watch; it was three in the morning. I whispered, "Kurt?"
He tilted his head and looked up at me blearily.
"Try not to wake up Rachel," I whispered, "But you've got to come with me. We're at the hospital. Blaine's been admitted."
The sleep left Kurt's face immediately; he went pale and scrambled quickly out of bed. "What's wrong? What's going on?"
He scrambled to pull on some clothes and shoes as I said quietly, "He's having an asthma attack. It's really bad."
He pulled me out of the RV and hissed furiously, "Where is he? Why didn't you wake me sooner?"
I lead him quickly back into the hospital. "He made it seem like he only wanted to come here as a precaution. He didn't want to wake you."
Kurt made a frustrated noise and said, "Of course he didn't."
I nodded, "Yeah. And it wasn't until we were in the emergency room that I realized he was seriously underplaying how sick he was, but then it got really scary and I didn't want to leave his side to go get you."
We got into the elevator to go up to the floor where they'd put Blaine, and Kurt looked so scared that I wanted to give him a hug. "He's going to be okay," I reassured him, "He's getting the meds he needs now."
Kurt shook his head. "I can't believe he didn't wake me up. I should have been there. He must be so scared."
I nodded. "I know. I'm sorry. I just wasn't thinking."
"It's not your fault," Kurt said, "He always does that. Tries to deal with everything by himself and involve as few people as possible in his problems."
The elevator let us out on the right floor, and I asked Kurt, "Has this happened before?"
Kurt didn't seem to hear me at first; his eyes were wild and faraway as I led him through the labyrinth of halls towards the ward where Blaine was. Then after a prolonged pause, he said, "No. Well, I mean, I knew he was asthmatic."
"Of course," I said, "But has he been hospitalized for it?"
Kurt was too anxious to see Blaine to respond.
We arrived at Blaine's room, and the looks on both Kurt and Blaine's faces were enough to let me know I should probably let them be alone together. I walked down the hall to a vending machine to get a Coke and then sat in a deserted waiting area and took out my phone to read YouTube comments as a distraction.
"Finn Hudson?"
An unfamiliar voice said my name, and I looked up in surprise to see a teenage girl standing by the vending machine and looking at me with a look of shock on her face.
"Uh…" I hesitated. "Yeah?"
She grinned and stepped tentatively closer to me. "Wow. I'm a big fan."
"Oh." I don't know what I'd expected, but something in me relaxed. "Thank you!"
I nodded to indicate that it was okay for her to come closer, and I stood up to shake her hand.
Looking deeply concerned, she asked, "What are you doing here? Is everything okay?"
I said, "Yeah. Um. Yeah, I think so. I'm here for a friend. He had a bad asthma attack."
"Oh no," she said, "Blaine? I saw his tweet earlier about the smoke from the forest fires trying to kill him."
I smiled warily; it was always so strange to me when complete strangers knew things about my life, including the names of my friends. "Yeah," I said, "Blaine. It was pretty scary."
"Oh I'm so sorry!" she said, "That's awful. And in an unfamiliar city and all that…"
I nodded, and we both sat down. "I'm Celia," she told me, "My brother was in a car accident a few hours ago."
My heart thudded a little. "Is he okay?"
She nodded. "Yeah. A few broken bones and a concussion, but they say he'll be okay. I'm only still here because our parents are out of town and he doesn't want to stay here alone."
"Understandably," I said.
She nodded again. "Is Blaine going to be okay?"
I shrugged. "He should be. Kurt's with him right now. I'm giving them their space."
She nodded. "Oh." Then her face changed subtly, and she said, "Oh! So they're… together?"
I blushed suddenly. "Ah. Right. Shit."
She looked suddenly mortified. "Oh, oh never mind. I know nothing."
I laughed. "It's not a big deal. They're not in the closet or anything. They're actually engaged. They just prefer to keep their private life private, so if you wouldn't mind keeping it to yourself…?"
She said, "Of course. I understand."
"To be honest," I admitted, "We all find it kind of amusing to keep everyone guessing about which of us are sleeping together."
Celia laughed. "I know you do. You're always teasing us with it. I've been trying to figure it out for weeks. There are only three beds in that RV!"
I grinned. "Sorry. It's pretty funny."
She smiled. "This is crazy. It's so bizarre to really meet you. I've been watching you since you were in Mexico."
"Oh wow," I said, "So almost the beginning."
"Yeah. I have tickets to Soundtrack on Friday. And I'll definitely be at your meetup tomorrow."
I nodded, heart sinking suddenly. "Right."
Her face fell a little, and she asked, "Do you think you're going to have to cancel? Because of Blaine?"
I grimaced. "I have no idea."
Celia and I talked for almost an hour until Kurt came out of Blaine's room and walked toward us. His eyes were red and puffy; he'd clearly been crying, and he looked even more exhausted than I felt. "Blaine's sleeping," he said tiredly.
I nodded, sliding over so that Kurt could sit next to me. "How's he doing?"
Kurt hesitated, looking questioningly at Celia. She got to her feet immediately. "I should get back to my brother. It was great meeting you, Finn. I'll keep Blaine in my prayers. Get some sleep!"
She hurried away, and Kurt raised an eyebrow. I explained, "She watches my vlogs. How's Blaine?"
Kurt rubbed his eyes tiredly and said, "Improving a little. The nurse said they'll keep giving him nebulizer treatments every few hours. There's this meter thing they keep having him blow into to measure his breathing, and they won't let him leave until it reaches the right number and stays there for a few hours."
"Any idea how long that'll be?"
He shrugged. "Could be a day or two. I really don't know. Blaine's not saying much; he's pretty upset and pretty exhausted."
"He seemed really freaked out before I went to get you."
Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Kurt explained, "I think he was pretty disorientated from the meds and the oxygen deprivation. He got confused, and it doesn't help that hospitals bring back some pretty scary stuff for him."
I nodded, heart sinking as I realized why that must be. "Poor guy. And how are you? It must be scary for you too."
Kurt's eyes filled with tears and his shoulders sagged a little. "Really scary," he agreed, staring at his knees. "It's not fair that he has to go through this again."
"So this has happened before?"
Kurt shrugged. "Not for years, but yeah. He used to be allergic to everything, you know. He says he outgrew most of it by the time I met him, but he's told me some horror stories from his childhood. Blaine grew up in a body that would literally try to kill him if he ate the wrong thing or breathed the wrong air."
This intrigued me; I couldn't imagine a child Blaine. I thought of his reaction to Rachel's incense in Minneapolis, and I said, "Well, he's still pretty allergic to stuff, isn't he?"
Kurt nodded. "Yeah, but not nearly to the extent he once was. He had to be homeschooled until he was a freshman in high school because he was so sick all of the time."
"Wow," I said, "I had no idea."
Kurt said, "I'm sure that's a big part of why he's such a private person now. He was never allowed to spend time with other kids his age. His only sibling is seventeen years older than he is. His main companion for most of his life was his piano."
I said, "He's very private, yes, but he's very socially intelligent. Very charismatic. Good with people. I wouldn't expect that from a home-schooled kid."
Rolling his eyes, Kurt said, "Yes, well. Blaine's good at everything. Charm is no exception. He had to learn that so he could distract people from finding out too much about who he really was."
I found it mildly amusing to hear Kurt describe his fiancé like that, but I was too tired and worried to laugh. I asked, "But it's been a long time since he's been hospitalized?"
Kurt shrugged. "He had an anaphylactic reaction to peanuts last winter that sent him to the emergency room."
"But for asthma?"
Kurt said, "The only time he's gone to a hospital for asthma since we've been dating was right after he moved to New York and he came down with bronchitis. In the last few years, his asthma has almost disappeared. It's not fair that it chooses now to resurface. He doesn't deserve this. I'm sure he feels humiliated."
"Well he shouldn't be. God knows we were all coughing today with all that smoke in the air. It's not his fault."
Kurt brushed a tear off of his cheek, and I felt a bit uncomfortable; I hadn't realized he was crying. Kurt said, "Yeah, but you have to remember that there's nothing Blaine hates more than to be seen as weak, or to have to ask for help. He spent his childhood entirely at the mercy of drugs and doctors and the sterile bubble of the house he was confined to. He spent most of his adolescence standing up against homophobia only to be knocked down time and time again. And he's spent so much of his early adulthood helpless against PTSD and everyone's perception of him as a victim."
He paused, grimacing, and said, "And when I say it like that, it makes it sound like he should be broken and he deserves pity, but he's not, and he doesn't. And it's incredibly important to him that people know that. He feels the constant need to prove his own resilience and strength. He works meticulously to ensure that he never has to depend on anyone; that his own confidence and competence and optimism are all he needs as fuel for his life. So of course being hospitalized is going to humiliate him."
The lights in the hospital waiting room buzzed, and I rubbed my eyes. "Kurt, relax. Blaine's going to be okay. Physically and emotionally. And it's not true that he refuses to depend on anyone; he wouldn't need to marry you if that were true."
Kurt finally smiled and said, "Aw. Well, he and I are essentially one and the same at this point. It's different."
I didn't respond. He admitted, "I'm just scared, Finn. I hate hospitals. He hates hospitals. And I hate seeing him hurting. I hate all of this."
"Of course you do. But you know he's going to be okay. He knew when to ask for help, and he got the help he needed."
He nodded. "Do you remember…" his voice cracked, and he began again, "Do you remember the last time you went with Blaine to a hospital?"
I gulped, and my blood suddenly seemed to stop moving. I'd been remembering that day too, but I hadn't expected him to bring it up. "Of course," I said, "Of course I do. How could I ever forget?"
He met my eyes and asked, "What was it like?"
I shook my head, feeling nauseated. "Kurt, don't. I don't want to think about that day."
"He almost died, though. And you were with him. You saved his life."
I said, "He collapsed in front of me and I called for help. That's hardly saving his life, Kurt. Look, he got shot in the shoulder and lost a lot of blood. For a while we didn't know if he'd pull through, but he did. What else is there to say?"
My tone was a little bit frantic and emotional and it made me feel guilty, but I couldn't help it.
Kurt averted his eyes. "Sorry," he said, "Never mind. I shouldn't have asked."
I put my arm around my step-brother and said, "Let's get some sleep, Kurt. Blaine's going to be fine."
