Kurt wasn't jealous at first. His dad taking Finn to a baseball game was just another step in the right direction for him to grow closer to the older boy. Setting his dad up with Finn's mom was Kurt's greatest plan ever.
Well, he thought it was the greatest. Until his dad started inviting Finn over to watch sports, and checking him out of school early to go see a baseball game. Kurt tried not to let it show how hurt he felt, but his dad had never been that excited to spend time with him. He felt like he was being replaced. Finn was straight, he was into sports and cars, and Kurt had accepted the fact that he was what his dad had wanted all along.
Luckily he had the Cheerios to take his mind off of things. He had practice from 3:30 until six, so he could go home, eat, do his homework, shower, and go to bed. His dad had taken Finn to another baseball game, so he wouldn't be home until around midnight.
The practices were always physically exhausting. Kurt hated being a back spot for the pyramid. Brittany fell at nearly every practice, and Kurt was almost certain she weighed more than he did. And with his luck, she managed to drag him down with her. They tumbled to the ground, and Kurt didn't see how it happened, but there was instant pain in his wrist and arm. It wasn't just a popped joint; something was wrong.
"Are you okay?" he asked Brittany. He didn't want to get sent home early, so he pretended things were fine, despite the pain.
"I think I'm dead," Brittany said. Kurt rolled his eyes and stood up. He pulled her to her feet with his good hand, and they got back to work.
The pain intensified by the second. Kurt couldn't move his wrist, let alone pull off cheerleading stunts. To cool down Sue had them doing ten laps around the gym, and his wrist throbbed with each step. It was getting to the point where he just wanted to break down and cry. It was obviously sprained, but his dad was too busy with Finn to be around to take him to the doctor.
Suck it up, he told himself as practice drew to a close. I can eat dinner and go to bed, then it'll feel better.
But it didn't. Kurt drove himself home, steering with only one hand, and collapsed on the couch. He was a sweaty mess, but he had zero energy. He was afraid if he tried to shower he would just fall asleep.
He must've dozed off, because his eyes shot open when he heard his phone ringing. It was Blaine. Kurt smiled and answered.
"Hello?" he said, sounding half asleep.
"Kurt? Are you okay? You sound weird," Blaine worried.
"I'm fine," he said quickly. "I'm just tired from practice. What's up?" he asked him.
"I came home for the weekend, but my parents went out to dinner with a friend. Do you want to go grab something to eat?" Blaine asked. The sharp, consistent pain from Kurt's arm made him have no appetite whatsoever, but he really wanted to see Blaine. Dalton was two hours away and he only got to see Blaine once every couple of weekends.
"Uh, yeah," Kurt said. "That sounds good. I need to get cleaned up first, though." Kurt wanted to see him, but he was so exhausted. He wanted to take some Tylenol and go to sleep. He didn't want to shower and get dressed up and go out.
"If you want I can grab Chinese or something and bring it over there," Blaine offered. "We could watch a movie or something."
"Yeah," Kurt agreed. "Let's do that. See you in a little bit." Kurt hung up before Blaine could say anything else. He was comfortable enough around him that he could be in his sweaty Cheerios uniform and Blaine wouldn't care. He closed his eyes again, and rested his arm on his stomach.
"Kurt," he heard. Someone kept saying his name softly. "Kurt, wake up. I'm here." Kurt opened his eyes, and Blaine was standing over him. He looked concerned.
"Hi," he mumbled, sitting up. He remembered he hadn't locked the front door, which probably wasn't a good idea. He cradled his wrist in his good hand, and Blaine frowned at him. "What's the matter?" Kurt was trying his best to pretend like he wasn't in pain, so he pretended like he didn't know what Blaine was worried about.
"I didn't want to wake you up, but I figured you needed to eat something after your practice, and you didn't look very comfortable," he told him. "I won't stay very long so you can go back to sleep, but do you think you could eat before I go?"
Kurt nodded stiffly. He had no appetite, but he didn't want Blaine to get concerned about him. He could eat with just one hand. Hopefully Blaine wouldn't notice. He had gotten a pizza instead of Chinese food, which made him want to eat even less, but he did it. He only ate one piece, and then changed into pajamas. Blaine offered to leave so he could get some rest, but Kurt didn't want him to go. He needed someone there, even when his dad wasn't.
He took four Tylenol pills, but it didn't put a dent in his wrist pain. It throbbed when he let his arm hang down, so he had to rest it on a pillow while he and Blaine watched a movie. He was horribly uncomfortable, and Blaine was starting to notice.
"Why're you holding your arm like that?" he asked him. Kurt tried to find an excuse.
"Oh, I fell at Cheerios," he said casually, like it was no big deal. And it wasn't a lie. "I'm fine, I just tripped while we were running laps." Well, that was a lie. Blaine seemed worried, so he turned on the lamp and gently looked at his arm.
"Kurt, this doesn't look good at all," he said. "Can you even move your wrist?" Kurt bit his lower lip tightly. He tried to move it, but just the slightest jolt sent more shockwaves of pain up his arm.
"Don't touch it," he pleaded, his teeth clenched together. "I took Tylenol. I'm okay." Blaine shook his head.
"No, your wrist could be broken, Kurt. We need to go to the doctor right now." Kurt yanked his arm away from Blaine and held back a sharp cry of pain.
"No," he insisted. "No, I'm fine." Blaine had turned the TV off and was putting his shoes back on.
"You're in a T-shirt and sweats. You don't need to change clothes, just put some shoes on. I'll help you," Blaine went on, ignoring what Kurt had said.
Then, all of the pain, all of the emotions from the past week came flooding back. With his dad spending more time away with Finn than at home with him, the grueling Cheerios practices, and now his hurt wrist, Kurt lost it. He burst into tears and couldn't stop.
He wanted his dad back. He didn't care if he didn't get to be with Finn. Since he'd met Blaine just a few weeks earlier his feelings for Finn had stopped, so his whole plan was pointless. He wanted to break his dad and Carole up, but he was so happy with her. Kurt felt like he had been pushed to the back burner, but his dad was happy, so he kept his mouth shut about how hurt he was.
He didn't want to go to the emergency room, though. Not without his dad. He wanted him, but he didn't want to tear him away from Finn when he was who he wanted to spend time with.
"Kurt, it's okay," Blaine soothed. "It'll be okay. You just need some relief for your arm, that's all. I'm gonna go with you. Can you get up?"
Kurt took a minute to dry his tears and blow his nose, and then he and Blaine walked outside. Blaine helped him into the car and buckled his seatbelt for him. Kurt leaned his head against the cold glass of the window as Blaine drove.
"How is it feeling right now?" he asked him. Kurt opened his eyes and looked down at his limp hand in his lap. It was definitely starting to swell, and it looked bruised.
"It hurts," he murmured. "Hold my hand?" Blaine took hold of his good hand, and the butterflies in Kurt's stomach calmed down. He felt comfortable around Blaine. He knew he would be there for him.
Blaine took him to the after-hours urgent care clinic instead of the hospital emergency room, so it was smaller and less crowded. The only other people in the waiting room was a crying toddler who cut his chin open, and a man that wouldn't stop coughing.
"I'm gonna get you signed in," Blaine said calmly. "Can you call your dad? I think he'd like to know what's going on." Kurt was too worn out to argue, so he simply nodded and sat down. He called his dad before he could talk himself out of it.
"Hello?" he answered. There wasn't any background noise, so he assumed the game was over and he was on his way back with Finn.
"Hey, Dad," he said. "Where are you?"
"Just leaving Cincinnati. Me and Finn are gonna grab a late dinner, then I'm gonna take him home. Is everything okay?" he asked. Kurt sniffled.
"K-kind of," he stuttered. He took a deep breath before spitting it out. "I got hurt at Cheerios practice. Blaine came over and took me to the little emergency clinic. I'm okay, though." Kurt balanced the phone between his ear and his shoulder so he could hold onto his throbbing arm.
"What did you do, kiddo?" his dad asked. "Is it a concussion? If it's a concussion you need to go to the hospital. I can meet you there as soon as I drop Finn off." He sounded panicked, and Kurt quickly tried to calm him down.
"No no, it's my wrist. I think it's just sprained. It's okay, Dad. We'll probably be back home before you get there. It's okay," he said. He wasn't trying to make him feel guilty, but he could tell he had.
"You call me when you find out what's wrong. We'll hurry back to Lima. Just call, okay?" his dad said in a low voice.
"Yeah," Kurt agreed. "I will. Bye, Dad." Kurt hung up and helped Blaine fill out all the forms he'd received from the receptionist. Since he had hurt his right arm, he couldn't even hold the pen, so he told him what to fill in.
Kurt had never liked doctors or hospitals, but it didn't go too bad. They took some x-rays and said it was just a bad sprain, nothing was fractured. He didn't need a cast, but the doctor wrapped it in an Ace bandage that stopped just below his elbow, and told him to ice it and take pain medication as he needed it. Once he was through explaining everything, they were allowed to leave. Kurt was relieved to get to go home.
Blaine signed him out and they drove in silence. "I'm tired," Kurt mumbled as they walked in the house.
"I know," Blaine replied, his voice quiet and soft. "You can get in bed. I'll stay with you until your dad gets here."
Kurt laid down in his bed, Blaine sitting by his side. It was cold down in the basement, but he had more than enough blankets. Blaine didn't stop until Kurt was as comfortable as he was going to get. Once he took more Tylenol he felt tired and groggy.
"Thanks for the pizza," he mumbled. "And for taking me to the doctor. Stay here?"
"Yeah," Blaine promised. "I'll stay here with you. Close your eyes. I'm right here." Kurt felt Blaine take his hand, and he felt like he could finally relax.
He wasn't sure if it was a dream or not, but Kurt could've sworn he heard his dad talking, but he couldn't hear what he was saying. He only heard his voice. He felt a kiss on his forehead, and he wasn't sure if that was his dad or Blaine. Either way, his dad was home, and Kurt wasn't sharing him with Finn anymore.
Author's Notes:
This chapter doesn't really follow the story, since Kurt meets Blaine in season 2, but I just kind of wrote him in. Puck sent Kurt to spy on the Warblers for sectionals in season 1, and then he meets Blaine. I feel like Kurt would've been a lot happier in season 1 if he had known Blaine then. He's just so lonely an vulnerable then and I just want to hug him.