A/N: the idea: guardian angel!Kurt
I've never been in a hospital bed so please excuse how ridiculous any of this may seem. But that the beauty of AUs, right?
This came to me this morning when I was still half asleep.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Blaine has been saying that word to himself over and over ever since he woke up in the white and dreary hospital room (how could something be both bright and depressing?) after the three surgeries he needed to fix his broken ribs, his twisted radius, and his fractured femur, among other injuries. Why had he thought it would be a good idea to go to that school dance? What had he been thinking? That he and Gary could fly under the radar, unnoticed by the ignorant bigots? Ha, what a wistful thought.
Luckily, the nurses felt so bad for him that they gave him the good drugs, the best drugs really, and he couldn't feel a thing. Which also meant he didn't have any intense pain to distract him from his wandering thoughts of exactly how stupid he'd been.
His parents didn't really disagree with him on that point. Blaine's father had only come to visit due to his mother's insistence. While a bit over-dramatic for his tastes, Blaine's father somehow loved his mom. Blaine was thankful for that but it made him wonder why he couldn't be loved by his father too. It'd be so much easier if his father didn't have a heart at all, but he must have if his affectionate gestures toward his wife meant anything and they looked sincere enough.
That's the only pain the drugs didn't really keep at bay, the emotional kind.
Blaine steered his mind away from those negative thoughts and decided to instead see what was playing on the television hanging on the wall across the room. The nurse had politely given him the remote before she left after his parents' quick appearance. He sighed and shifted a bit to attempt a more comfortable position and sighed again when his leg gave a twinge at being moved. He turned the TV on and began flipping through channels. News, soap opera, game show, news, soap opera, news, old sitcom from the 90s, annnd the Wiggles. Nope, nothing. He turned the console off and tossed the remote onto the bed beside him, feeling not only annoyed but also a bit sleepy. Maybe the drugs were starting to fully kick in?
As he closed his eyes in an attempt to get some rest, Blaine heard something. Something he couldn't quite place. He opened his eyes again and searched around the room with his gaze, half hoping some of his friends had sneaked in despite his orders to be left alone to heal and half fearing some burglar had picked the lock on his private room and expected a big payday. Why had his mother insisted on this room in this ward, known for housing its more wealthy guests?
In a few minutes Blaine placed the source of the noise: the television screen was hissing with static, which was odd seeing as he had turned it off just a few moments ago. Blaine felt for the remote with his hand, not moving his gaze from the TV screen. He pressed the power button and watched at the screen snapped off and turned blank again. What was that? Was this room haunted? Blaine laughed half-heartedly at his thoughts. He was just being silly. It must have been the diluted morphine running through his system.
Just then a cool gust of wind pushed through his mass of curls and he shivered involuntarily. Blaine knew for a fact that the window in his room was left unopened. Which begged the question: where had the breeze come from? Relax idiot, it's probably just the air conditioner. Blaine scoffed at himself again. He was not allowed any more ghost hunting/haunted buildings TV show marathons with the Warblers.
Blaine sat fully on edge, waiting for something more to happen, for the next thirty seconds. When nothing strange occurred, he laid back in the slightly comfortable hospital bed with a relieved sigh. He had been imagining things, nothing more. No need to worry.
As he closed his eyes for the second time, in the hopes that sleep would clear his mind, something did happen. A bright white light flashed in the middle of the room, so bright that Blaine could see it despite his eyelids blocking his vision. He opened his eyes slowly as the light faded, wondering if he had imagined it. There was no light, but there was a person standing where the light had come.
No, not a person. Well, maybe a person? A person with beautiful white feathered wings. Can a person have wings?
Blaine, so enamored by this beautiful, awe-inspiring sight, didn't know he had said his thoughts aloud. He also didn't notice the small smile on the face of the other boy. That's what Blaine assumed he was anyway, another boy. A beautiful, stunning boy with beautiful, stunning wings. Wings!
"I am Kurt," the other boy remarked. Blaine marveled at his voice. It held a higher pitch than most boys' he knew and if he sang, Blaine had a feeling Wes would kill for that voice. "I have come to check on you." Blaine silently wished Kurt would keep talking. And smile again too.
"I'm Blaine," Blaine replied. He mentally slapped himself for how breathless his voice was. "Do I know you from somewhere?"
Kurt chuckled. A beautiful, rich sound. "No, young one. But I know you quite well."
"Young one? Aren't we like the same age?"
Kurt laughed again. "Not even close."
"But you look so young?" Blaine insisted. How old could this guy possibly be? He looked no older than 16.
"Thank you. But tell me, how are you?"
Blaine scoffed. "Well, I just got my ass kicked by some stupid prejudiced jocks and I'm going to be stuck in physical therapy for three months. How do you think I am?"
Kurt's face instantly fell. His eyes misted over with what looked to Blaine suspiciously like guilt and worry. Why guilt? Worry he could maybe understand, seeing as Kurt said he knew Blaine quite well. But guilt? What did this... this angel of a guy have to feel guilty about?
"I apologize. That was very rude of me." Kurt looked torn for a moment but then stepped forward and sat on the edge of Blaine's bed. "I know what happened. I meant to inquire how you are feeling inside your mind."
Up close, Kurt's features were even more breathtaking, if such a thing were possible. His eyes shifted between a pale blue and grey with hints of green in the irises. His pale skin was dusted with freckles along his high cheekbones and his pointed nose belonged on a sculpture of a Roman god. His lips, quirked in a small smile, were plush and pale pink. Gorgeous, absolutely, irrefutably gorgeous.
"Blaine?"
"Huh?" Blaine smiled sheepishly at being caught staring and made an effort to remember what Kurt had asked him. "OH, right. I'm fine, I think."
"You only think you are fine?"
"I am fine, Kurt. Really." For some reason Blaine felt an overwhelming need to appease Kurt's worry, and especially that guilt. He never wanted to see Kurt look so sad ever again.
Kurt remained looking slightly unconvinced, but at least the guilt was gone from his eyes.
Blaine, in a bold move, laid his hand over Kurt's, groaning quietly when the stretch hit both his left leg and his right arm. Kurt immediately pushed him gently to lay back against the headboard and moved up to sit beside Blaine's head, their hands still joined. Blaine smiled gratefully and Kurt returned the expression which caused Blaine to want to smile even more. Kurt had a beautiful smile.
They sat there in silence, a comfortable one, which was odd seeing as how Blaine still didn't really know who Kurt was or where he came from or what he wanted. But he found that he didn't really care about any of that. Kurt's presence was so soothing, leaving Blaine in a pleasant state of contentment. Eventually Kurt's wings caught Blaine's eye again. He had almost completely forgotten those were even there.
He eyes roved over the smooth feathers, wondering if they felt as soft and smooth as they looked.
"Kurt, could I... could I touch your wings?" Blaine whispered the question reverently, because not only were Kurt's wings something that inspired awe but also because Kurt himself made Blaine breathless.
The other boy (was he even a boy?) laughed, and for the first time Blaine could tell the laughter was genuine. "Of course, young one. But be gentle."
Again with the 'young one' crap? Blaine frowned at the thought but took the opportunity before him before Kurt could change his mind. He reached out his hand slowly, gently running his fingers down and across the rows of pristine feathers that made up Kurt's right wing. They felt like down feathers, soft and smooth just as Blaine had imagined. He wanted to rub his face in them, feel the silky texture against his sensitive skin. He must have released a sigh without knowing it because Kurt laughed again.
Blaine, still stroking the supple, delicate feathers, looked up into Kurt's eyes. No guilt or worry resided there, just a happy gleam that Blaine hoped would stay there always. "Who are you?" he murmured. Who was this kind soul with the supple wings?
"I am Kurt."
"Well, yes. But what do you do? Where do you come from?"
"I am a guardian. And I come from the skies."
Blaine tilted his head, feeling even more confused. "So you take care of kids?"
"Sometimes."
"And you flew here?"
"I did."
"Where did you fly here from?"
"The Heavens."
"Well, yeah. Planes fly above the clouds. I know that. But where did your plane take off from?"
"Plane?" Now it was Kurt's turn to tilt his head with confusion in his eyes.
"Yeah, an airplane. That's how you flew here, isn't it?"
Kurt raised an immaculate golden eyebrow and looked pointed at the hand still smoothing over his feathered wing.
Blaine blushed and pulled his hand away. "Right. Your wings. Sorry."
Kurt shook his head mirthfully and grasped Blaine's hand in his. He returned the tan fingers to their previous position and held them there until Blaine got the message and began to brush his fingers soothingly across once more.
"Continue that," Kurt requested. "It feels nice."
Blaine nodded. He'd be sure to remember that. "But seriously, where did you fly here from?"
"You are an oblivious one, I see, so I will use clear wording." Kurt sighed happily as Blaine's fingers moved over a more sensitive spot before continuing. His face turned serious and his eyes held that return of guilt. "I am a guardian angel, Blaine. I came here from Heaven after I saw your attack unfold. I could do nothing to stop it at the time, and for that I am deeply sorry." Kurt lowered his head and Blaine swore he could see a tear slide down the angel's flawless cheek.
"You... what?"
"I understand if you wish for me to leave. I will not bother you again." Kurt rose to his feet in one fluid movement.
"No, don't leave." Blaine twined the fingers of his free hand with Kurt's and tightened his grip. "I'm just trying to understand all of this."
Kurt complied, sitting back down beside Blaine. "What questions do you have?"
"Why me? Why did they attack me? And why you, out of all the other angels? And why did you appear now?"
"Why you?" Kurt sighed sadly. "I wish I had a good answer for that. They attacked you because they were afraid of things they did not understand, things they chose to not understand. And why me? I was chosen to watch over you because we have some similarities, you and I. I appeared now, in spite of the orders I was given, because you needed me. And so I came."
"Similarities?"
"As a human I too withstood the tests of being different. I too was beaten for my tastes."
"You... you were gay?"
Kurt laughed humorlessly. "Am gay, young one. Those things don't just go away with time."
Blaine laughed nervously. "Right, of course. But Kurt, why are you here now?"
"Because you needed me."
"Yeah, you said that already. I mean, why are you still here?"
"You told me to stay."
"Yes, that I did. But don't you need to go? Check on other people you watch over?"
"You are my main priority. You have always been, since your birth."
"Really?" Blaine felt a bit flattered at the thought. Kurt must have seen something special about him to put him before all the other people he was assigned to. It felt nice to know he was loved and cared about, even if this was from an angel he'd probably never see again.
"Of course. You are special, Blaine."
"Special how?"
"I feel a connection to your very soul."
"What does that mean?"
"You are quite inquisitive," Kurt accused playfully. "It means I have an affinity for you."
"So you love me?"
"If that is how you would like to word it."
"Do you love everyone?"
"More or less."
"But you love me more?"
"Correct."
Blaine grinned. "Awesome."
"I thought you might say as much," Kurt teased.
"How long can you stay?" Blaine wondered aloud.
"Not much longer, I'm afraid. I must get back before my superiors notice I'm gone."
Blaine was tempted to frown but he couldn't really feel sad in Kurt's presence. "Can you still visit me in the future?"
"We shall see, young one."
"I like it better when you call me Blaine," the tenor mock complained.
"As you wish, Blaine."
He couldn't help smiling. Because of Kurt, he felt refreshed and renewed. It was as if this accident was a blessing in disguise. Or maybe it was just a flat out blessing. If Kurt was an angel, he could give blessings. Right?
Kurt smiled sadly at his charge. He knew it was time to go, but he really wished he didn't have to. He wanted so much to stay with Blaine and protect him with everything he had. Seeing Blaine so hurt was distressing. Out of all the people he had been assigned, Blaine was the one who had suffered the most. His unloving father, his image-obsessed mother, the constant bullying, and now this.
He was pulled from his thoughts by a tugging on his hand. He then realized he had never released Blaine's hand. He'd definitely get in trouble for that one. Angels weren't supposed to allow humans to touch them.
"Yes, Blaine?"
"You're leaving, aren't you?"
Kurt sighed. "I wish I could remain, but I must go."
"You'll come back someday?" And while Kurt knew he was supposed to say no, that he had to deny Blaine's request for both of their sakes, he just couldn't say no to those wide, hopeful hazel eyes.
"Someday," he promised. And he vowed to himself to keep that promise somehow.
"You should go now, before it gets too late," Blaine reasoned. Kurt blinked away the sadness overwhelming him when Blaine slowly removed his hand from Kurt's. This was why angels were not allowed to touch human beings, there was too much at stake. Humans brought back the feelings and emotions that angels had been taught to throw away.
Kurt nodded and stood. He chanced one last look at Blaine over his shoulder before he disappeared in a flash of white light.
Blaine gave a doleful smile as the bright light faded. Kurt was gone, and he very well could never see him again.
But the angel had promised he would come back someday.
Blaine promised to never forget the remarkable beauty that had essentially saved his life.