Chapter Eight: I'm Here, But Why?
"And the kids are so busy preparing for sectionals that they haven't handed in their papers! I understand it's tough balancing school and show choir, but December break is less than two weeks away, and these papers were due on Wednesday…"
Blaine sighed, clicking his pen rhythmically, open, closed. "Wes, we never handed in papers when our competitions were so close, remember? They'll do it, just give them a little time."
"I can't treat them any differently than I would one of the football guys on game week," Wes protested. "It's wholly immoral. Just watch Sophocles write a play about me."
The med student raised an eyebrow. "Sophocles has been dead for two thousand years. I think you're safe."
"But the principle of the matter-" Blaine tuned out the rest, tracing over the headline for his page of notes with his ballpoint from the dollar store. The notebook was almost two inches thick with coloured tabs sticking from every other page, and the crick in the student's back reminded him of just how heavy it was — a metaphor, Wes would say, for the importance of what he was learning.
It was one week from his Shelf exams for the rotation he'd been on for almost a month, which was why he was spending his Sunday night at home with his roommate eating cold noodles. God, how Blaine hated cold noodles.
"Earth to Blanderson, hello?" Wes poked him sharply in the ribs, and he flinched away, shaking his head and cursing.
"Fuck you, bro."
"Jeez Blaine, what crawled up your ass and died there?"
"Nothing, I just…" He glanced fleetingly at the miniature clock in the kitchenette before shooting up from the sofa and gathering his things in a rush. "Shit... I have to head to the hospital."
Wes frowned. "For what? It's almost midnight, B. Even if Cooper's still there, he's either asleep or working. Besides, you have rounds in the morning..."
"I just have some things to do."
"Nice and vague, as usual," his roommate muttered as Blaine slung his bag on and headed for the coat hanger. It was one of the coldest nights of winter, and his mother had just mailed him the most beautiful scarf — a stunning, radiant blue that he almost wanted to drape across his pillow so he could wake up to it in the morning.
He tightened the scarf around his neck, twitching from annoyance. "Fine. If you're so desperate to know what I'm doing at all times of the day… A friend of mine is letting me into the morgue to try some procedures on cadavers. Care to join me?"
Wes greened. "I… think I'll pass. Have fun… I guess."
"I will." Slamming the door behind him, Blaine rubbed his eyes as he made his way out of the apartment and to the bus stop, weary from nights of lying awake in his bed with sweat pouring down his back and sticking it to his nightshirt. He wasn't sweating now, though; the night truly was bone-chilling, his breath swirling in front of him before breaking off into the darkness. He pulled the scarf over his mouth and rubbed his bare fingers together.
Snow lit by the golden glow of a streetlamp, the road was still and eerie, bare of cars or buses or bikes. Blaine wasn't surprised — it was nearing midnight, and everyone was either fast asleep or somewhere far away from home, but not on the street. No, only indecisive people were on the street at midnight, people like him.
He climbed aboard the deserted bus, fluorescent lights jolting him awake like a splash of cold water, and let the turbulence calm his spiky nerves. Blaine hadn't meant to be so terse with his roommate, and Wes had a valid reason to wonder where he was going — the last five nights he'd been out at the strangest of hours, and almost always at the hospital. Not that he could help it. Staying home wasn't an option anymore.
The first night had been a coincidence. Blaine had just wanted to visit his brother, and he'd happened to be working late that Wednesday. And, if he'd had to pass through the ICU, it was fate that brought him past Kurt's room and chance that he had decided to sing to the boy.
It was altogether something else that had made the boy wake up, something Blaine imagined he would never understand. But it happened, right in front of his eyes, and... like a coward, he'd run away.
The second and third nights, he told himself, were to make sure that Kurt was okay. The same inexplicable obsession — no, fixation — that had compelled him to give Kurt those flowers every day he was asleep. A chance to find closure. And maybe the second night really had been for those reasons, but the third... the third was when Blaine knew that as long as he was able to, he'd come back every night to watch over this boy.
Because on the third night, Blaine had watched in horror as a teenage boy in a letterman jacket pressed his boot into Kurt's injured abdomen.
When the boy had come in, he'd mistaken him for Finn, Kurt's older brother who he'd seen the night of the accident, only having caught sight of the jacket — red and white with a black M printed on the breast, the McKinley Titans insignia. By the time Blaine realized what was happening, the boy had already let go of Kurt and disappeared down the hall. Hurrying after him, Blaine had blindly chased the figure to the hospital entrance to no avail — he was gone.
Blood boiled in his veins as the bus reached the closest stop to the hospital. The only passenger, he turned to the bus driver and told him, "This is my stop. Have a good night."
The beauty of the hospital was that you never really could tell what time it was once you were inside. People got hurt in the daytime and the nighttime, and people were there to save them, always. It lifted some of the tiredness from his eyelids, and he brightened as he passed the overnight receptionist, who gave him a curious but not unfriendly side-eye as he waved to her for the fifth time in just as many nights.
"A bit late for school business, isn't it?" she commented as he showed her his student ID again. It was well past visiting hours, but there were perks to being associated with the hospital. "Here to shadow another resident? Or work on a lab?"
Blaine flashed her the dazzling smile. "Here to see my brother, actually. You might know him? Dr. Cooper Anderson?"
Her eyes animated. "Oh, I know him. How lovely! I didn't know he had a brother..."
"Not a lot of people do," he replied cheekily, cocking his head, "but they will soon, hopefully, when I graduate."
"Well, I should let you get back to Dr. Anderson... Blaine," she teased, sliding him back his card. "I expect we'll have time to chat tomorrow, as well."
He grinned sheepishly. "What can I say? You can take the man out of the hospital, but you can't take the hospital out of the man."
"I'd say you can't do either, by the looks of it," an amused voice interjected. Cooper slung an arm around his brother's shoulder, exaggerating the height difference. "Hey, little bro. What are you doing here?"
Blaine shrugged his arm off. "Speak of the devil... I'm here to see you, actually. Can we talk in your office?"
The doctor's brows creased in concern. "Sure, squirt. Let's go. Night, Cathy." They bade the receptionist farewell and headed quietly in the direction of Cooper's office, settling inside as an air of importance filled the tiny room. Cooper crossed his long legs, leaning back in his desk chair. "I've been meaning to catch up with you, but it's been a busy week."
"That's actually what I wanted to talk about." Blaine shifted awkwardly on the couch, picking at his nails. "How's Kurt?"
Surprised, Cooper replied, "He's getting better. Why do you ask? I didn't think you even remembered him."
Fingers dug into his palms, but his face stayed level. "Of course I remember. It was my first real surgery. I heard he woke up a few days ago, and I haven't been able to ask, so here I am."
Cooper watched him carefully. "Yeah, about five days ago. But you've been here every night since, Blaine."
The fourth night he'd spent outside of Kurt's room, hidden away from view, keeping watch. He knew his parents were there, and Finn, but the wretched feeling in his stomach wouldn't leave until he was close enough...
"You know how busy med school is and everything," Blaine wrote off. "Always something to do here."
"Right, and finals are next week."
"Exactly."
"So, I'll ask again, what are you doing here?"
Blaine paused. "I already told you..."
"Don't lie to me, squirt," Cooper scolded, not unkindly but firm, reminding Blaine that his brother was and always would be a father. "I've known you since before you were born. I know you better than our parents know you."
"I just..." He kicked at the wooden flooring, curling his toes in his shoes, feeling like a child. "I'm scared. That he won't make it."
His brother didn't have to ask who he was. "He's out of the woods now, Blaine. I can't promise it'll stay that way, but so far it looks good for him. He was progressing well, really well with his speech and everything until..."
"Until yesterday?"
Cooper's brows creased like an owl. "How did you know that?"
"I- I..." want to tell you, he held back, but I can't until I talk to Kurt... "Educated guess. He hasn't been awake that long."
The doctor blinked his disbelief. "I shouldn't be talking about Kurt with you."
His heart quickened, pulse racing in his palms as he wiped them haphazardly on his pants. "W-why not, Coop?"
A moment passed. "Doctor-patient confidentiality."
"Well, that's not-" Blaine sputtered, "I was there when he was brought in! I don't think that applies here!"
"Maybe you're right," Coop ceded, "but I get a feeling that you're too close to this."
"How the hell could I be too close to this? I don't know the kid! I've barely met him while he's conscious! I'm just concerned because he was my first patient. That's all. Promise."
He nodded, sighing. "Of course. I'm sorry." For what exactly? For accusing me of what? He spoke to the police yesterday morning — well, Elliott."
"Hold on, Elliott is on this case?" Blaine cried, shooting up from the couch. " My Elliott?"
Cooper smirked at him, amused. "Since when is he your Elliott? Is there something you want to tell me, squirt?"
Pinking in the cheeks, Blaine huffed, "You know that's not what I meant. Elliott from the band."
"Elliott you hated for months because he was — what was it? — trying to 'steal your one true love'?"
"I was in college," he muttered. "Everyone thinks their college boyfriend is their one true love."
"Especially since you were seventeen which made you fresh bait-"
"Shut up, Cooper! Just because I'm smarter than you and graduated early..." Blaine shook his head, grinning. "You're an old man, now, aren't you?"
"I'm thirty-three, and that is a ripe young age, thank you very much. You're just a child."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, grandpa." Blaine smiled a toothy, bright smile that felt good on his lips. Why hadn't he smiled like that in so long? The name Kurt floated back into his mind, and his legs drummed anxiously against the floor again. "So, about Elliot...?"
"Oh, right," the mirroring smile slipped off of his brother's face. "Elliott tried to get Kurt to say who it was that... hurt him. And Finn, Kurt's brother, was so sure that he would say something, that he knew..."
"But he didn't tell," Blaine finished, eyes widening with realization. The night after he'd seen...
"No, he didn't. And I don't know for certain, but I believe Finn." The brothers were silent for a moment, as though there was something they could do to find the truth, one brother impossibly closer than the other already.
I need to talk to you, Kurt.
Blaine cleared his throat. "So I should get back to studying, now that I know that Kurt is... okay. Thanks for telling me." He stood, atmosphere shifting to something different but not lighter, and patted his brother's shoulder. "Try to do shorter shifts. You look like you need your own bed."
"Being home's not the same anymore," the doctor replied wistfully.
Blaine tightened his grip, fingers dipping into the creases of his brother's shirt. "I miss them too, Coop. But Lily's safer with mom and dad until you get back on your feet."
"I know, I know. It's just hard." He took in a deep breath, wiping the tears from his cheeks. "Alright, squirt. Go home to Wesley, and tell him to send me those pictures I asked for."
Blaine glared without venom. "Should I ask?" His brother only replied with a wicked grin, to which he sighed and shook his head. "Goodnight, Cooper."
"Night."
Shutting the door behind him, Blaine went straight through the ICU, setting himself up in front of a certain blue-eyed stranger's hospital room, digging his coffee thermos out of his bag to keep himself awake.
"You're going to fail the Shelf, and all your work will have been for nothing," Marley chirped in her bouncy voice as she fell into step with Blaine, whose bloodshot eyes were poorly concealed behind cheap sunglasses.
"That's real positive, thanks," he muttered, rubbing his temples where a burning pain was forming. "It's too fucking early for this..."
Sebastian snorted from Blaine's other side. "Don't get me wrong, I'm liking this new you, but who are you and what have you done with sweet and kind Marley?"
"She goes into hiding when one of her friends is in trouble," she answered in a sing-song yet serious voice. "Blaine Devon Anderson, why do you look like absolute shit and why are you wearing those douchebag glasses indoors?"
"It's five am, everyone looks like shit." He groaned loudly, wishing he had more bean juice to drown himself in. "Why are we even here?"
"Blainers, we've been here every morning at five am for the last seven months. That's what rotations are. That's when pre-rounds start. Now, explain to me why you appear to have not slept in a week and how you got here before I did."
He blinked his long, crusted eyelashes under his shades. "I never left."
Sebastian whistled low under his breath and raised a fist. "Brought those clothes with you, then? Get it, man."
Blaine glared at him senselessly. "That makes no sense. Who would I even have hooked up with? It's a fucking hospital."
"You know, that one nurse with the strong hands. He could give me a sponge bath any day-"
Marley slapped a hand over his mouth. "Stop, just... stop." He licked her palm, and she pulled back, disgusted. "Men, I swear..."
"Can we please get back to why I'm going to flunk out of med school?" Blaine said.
"Oh, right. That." Blaine glared at her as if to say yes, that. She held her hands up in surrender. "I'm just saying, two weeks ago you were at the top of the class. Now, you're barely yourself when you're here. I don't know what happened to you the night of the accident, but I think you need to get over it."
"I just..." he trailed off, staring ahead in the direction of the ICU as they made their way to pre-rounds. He was so close, but it was morning, and everything was different in the morning, he didn't have an excuse to... "It was hard to see all that carnage. To know that someone wanted to hurt all those people. To know that, if the person responsible had shown up on a stretcher, we would have had to treat them just the same, despite..."
A warm hand rested on his shoulder, and Marley smiled up at him sadly. Surprisingly enough, Sebastian mirrored. The three of them walked in silence the rest of the way, feeling the full weight of the paths they had chosen finally settling on their shoulders, and still carrying them without complaint.
He needed to go back to who he used to be. The guy who would take care of everyone. The guy who would give everything to give more.
But there was just so much to do.
Frozen egg salad sandwich hanging from his mouth, Blaine fixed his clothes and straightened his glasses, having exchanged his shades for a more practical pair that, well, actually helped him see. Miraculously none of the contents fell out of the sandwich as it was suspended between his teeth — not that he was surprised, considering in the winter the refrigerated shelves the hospital cafeteria kept them in were cold enough to raise penguins. He finished his food in three bites, wincing at the texture of the eggs, and continued toward the patient's room that he was supposed to be in.
As he rounded the corner, loud voices stopped him in his tracks. One of them was familiar, the other brand new, both tart and angry. Red-faced and shouting, Finn stood outside his brother's room with a sharp-looking Latina in a cheerleading outfit, pointing an accusatory finger at her.
"I swear, Santana, you couldn't keep a damn secret if your life depended on it!"
She bit back, pretty features morphed into the edge of a sword. "Secrets are for people who have things to hide. I think they're stupid."
His voice got louder until it almost echoed through the halls and into every crevasse. "Like hell you do! Have you not been in the closet for seventeen years? Everyone knows you're in love with Brittany, and that she doesn't love you back. That must hurt, not being able to admit to everyone how you really feel."
The girl, Santana, recoiled as though she'd been punched in the gut — but only for a moment. She pushed herself closer, right up to Finn's face, and hissed, "I told Karofsky that Kurt's awake because I wanted to see his face when he heard it. I know he did this. I know he hurt my friend. So I wanted to hurt him. Get that, Tubs? But now I want to hurt you, and you should be scared because we both know there are things that you want me to keep secret."
"Karofsky didn't just hurt my brother, Santana," Finn muttered before guilt flashed across his face and he clapped a hand over his mouth.
She froze in place, finger in the air. "W-what?"
"He..."
Her nose twitched as her face seized up. "No, no... that's not funny, Finn. Really not funny."
Tears streamed down only one side of Finn's face, the other half hidden under his palm. "I didn't mean to... looks like I'm the one who can't keep a secret."
"But, Karofsky doesn't- shit, how could I have missed that?" She turned, kicking the wall hard enough to surely bruise her foot, but she showed no signs of physical pain. "Damn it!"
"I'm scared that he's gonna come after Kurt," Finn admitted, sliding down the wall. "Now that he knows he survived. He has more to lose."
Santana whimpered, sliding down beside him, "I'm sorry."
"Me too," he muttered, slinging an arm around her shoulder. "I care about you, you know. You were my first, and that means something to me. And I know it's hard here, to come out of the closet, to put yourself out there like Kurt did because well, look where it got him, being himself in Lima. But you deal with your anxiety surrounding this stuff by attacking other people, and someday that's not going to be enough and you might start attacking yourself."
"I don't think that's going to happen." She grinned humourlessly, wiping her eyes. "I'd miss myself too much."
"Tana, be serious."
She stopped. "You're right."
"About?"
"Me, loving Britt. And... and about her not loving me."
"I..." he paused to push her hair out of her eyes. "I was just angry. I can't speak for her, and neither can you."
"She said she had feelings for me, back when she was with Artie last year," she continued. "But then they broke up, and she hasn't even..."
"She's in that room over there," Finn said, pointing at his brother's. "Go talk to her."
The girl nodded and stood, breaking Blaine out of his trance. He ducked behind the corner as she passed him and cracked open Kurt's door, but not before Finn saw him.
"Hey, you," called out the boy, an urgency in his voice that Blaine hadn't heard since the day Kurt woke up and he came barreling into the room as he'd made his quick exit. But why was he calling for Blaine? Was it because he'd heard the seemingly very private conversation?
The man stopped and turned back to his patient's brother. "Yes? Can I help you?"
"Are you a doctor? You seem really young."
Blaine relaxed, a gentle smile making its way onto his face. Maybe he could get to know Finn. "I'm a med student. Third-year."
The boy's brows pinched into his nose. "Then why were you in my brother's room in the middle of the night? Last week, the day he woke up. I saw you."
His heartbeat thumped in his ear as silence fell over the pair. "I... I was checking on him. I assisted on his surgery the night they brought him in."
"They asked a med student to check on him? Not a nurse or a doctor?"
"Double-checking, for myself. Just wanted to make sure everything was okay."
The kid's eyes narrowed into slits as he surveyed him. He took a deep breath, as though steeling himself, before asking, "What's... what's your name?"
"Anderson," the student replied, holding out a hand. Inexplicably, Finn seemed to relax, reaching to take it. "Blaine Anderson. Pleasure to meet you."
Finn dropped his hand and blinked, tensing again. "Blaine... Anderson. Curly black hair, glasses."
"Uh, yes? Do you describe people's appearances a lot when you first meet?" he joked, attempted to lighten the confusingly heavy air between them.
The boy didn't laugh; he stared wordlessly at Blaine for a moment, as though trying to determine if he was lying — about what, his own name? — before deciding that he wasn't and putting up some kind of guard. "Stay away from my brother."
Blaine withdrew. Of all the things he'd expected to come out of Finn's mouth, that wasn't even an option. The boy he'd observed to be kind-hearted if not a bit temperamental at times directed a glare onto him, for reasons unbeknownst to Blaine. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me, Blaine," he snarled, the name a weapon on his tongue. "Stay away from Kurt."
"Look, Finn, I-"
"How do you know my name?" he grumbled.
"I told you, your brother was my patient. It's my job to know about his family."
"No, my brother isn't your patient, he's Dr. Ander-" He froze, scanning Blaine up and down. "Dr. Anderson's. Cooper Anderson. Are you...?"
"His brother, yes. I was with him when they called a code- when they told us about the accident, so I was in the ER when Kurt came in, and I was able to help him."
Finn's expression softened. "Look, dude, I appreciate you saving my brother and all. But, for some reason, he remembers you as this perfect guy who really cares about him instead of the guy whose job it was to save him. He's putting all his hope on you because he's in a dark place. That's not what he needs right now. He doesn't need to get hurt again. Ok? Just, please, let him believe you don't exist."
"I..." How could he? How could he explain to Finn that, for some unexplainable reason, he did care for Kurt? How could he not promise Finn something he believed was for the good of his brother? "Ok. Alright, Finn, I won't try to talk to him."
They finally shook hands, as though sealing the deal. Finn gave him a curt nod — the last one, Blaine told himself — before heading back into the room. As for Blaine... he was late for his patient's physical.
"I'll stay away, Kurt," he muttered to himself as he walked. "But I'll watch over you from afar, because I think I'm the only one who knows the trouble you're in."
If only I could see you awake, just to know for sure...
A/N: Sorry for that ending folks! Don't forget to tune back in for chapter nine to see what happens next :)
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Happy March everyone!
