Los Angeles. It was really happening, but it felt weird, almost like a dream. Blaine had been counting down the days ever since they found out that they were going to Nationals. And even better, Kurt and Rachel were coming, too.
Blaine sat down in his window seat in the airplane and buckled his seatbelt. Kurt was next to him, and then Rachel sat by the aisle. Originally Rachel had the middle seat, but she grumbled and complained about how the middle was "the absolute worst" so Kurt switched with her.
It was a short flight, just from the Columbus airport to Chicago. Then there was a four and a half hour flight to Los Angeles. They were planning on staying for three days- one for the competition, and two to have some free time around the city. Everyone was excited, especially the sophomores. The majority of them had never been on a plane or been to the ocean.
They finally got going, and it finally began to sink in for Blaine that it was actually happening. He couldn't help but feel nervous, though. New Directions had spent months preparing, and Blaine knew they could pull off a win, but what if something happened? After Marley fainted at sectionals, the horrifying thought of something going wrong lingered in the back of Blaine's mind.
But it didn't matter. He was the captain of New Directions, and even with Mr. Shue's extended periods of absence from rehearsals, they all were feeling confident and were ready to uphold their national title.
"I'm really glad you got to come," Blaine said to Kurt, looking out the window as they rose higher and higher above the horizon.
"Me too," Kurt agreed. "How are you feeling? When we went to New York two years ago I don't think anyone slept the night before."
"I think we'll do fine," Blaine answered honestly. He didn't want to get too cocky, but he really believed in his team. They finally had a chance to prove themselves.
The rest of the hour-long flight was uneventful. It was three in the afternoon, and with the hour-long layover in Chicago plus the two-hour time difference, they were set to arrive in LA at six that evening.
New Directions got to be the first ones off the plane because of Artie and his wheelchair, so they mostly just waited around until it was time to board. Kurt and Rachel wanted to get food, but Blaine didn't feel hungry.
"Do you want a sandwich or something? I think there's a Subway down by the bathrooms," Kurt said. Blaine sat criss-cross in his seat and pulled his headphones out of his bag, trying to drown out the chaos and commotion of the busy Illinois airport.
"I'm fine," he answered, sticking his ear buds in his ears. "You guys go on. I'm not hungry, I'll eat when we get there, at the hotel or something."
Kurt shot Blaine a look, but went on with Rachel. Blaine put on his Maroon 5 Pandora station and leaned his head back against the wall. He was telling the truth, he really wasn't hungry, but his stomach was also beginning to hurt. He waved it off as just nerves and some motion sickness from the earlier flight, but still didn't feel well enough to eat.
The rest of New Directions milled around, ignoring him. Blaine was thankful for a moment of peace and quiet with no interruptions. Even though he loved Kurt to death, Blaine really just wanted to relax and try to get rid of his stomachache.
"Blaine? Let's go," Mr. Shue said, pulling one of his ear buds out. Blaine looked up and saw the rest of the team lined up to board. Blaine put his phone up and joined them.
Rachel and Kurt weren't back yet, but there was still plenty of time. Blaine went ahead and got up just so he could sit down again. Traveling made him tired, and he was ready to be there already.
Blaine was in the middle seat for the second flight, with Sam to his right by the aisle, and Kurt next to the window. Blaine put his headphones back in as a sign to be left alone, and he leaned up against Kurt's shoulder after they were up in the air. His stomach still felt bad, but Blaine told himself with some Tylenol and a good nights sleep, he would be ready to go for the competition in the morning.
"Dude, look, they're playing Star Wars!" Sam said, pointing to the TV screen up above. Blaine loved the Star Wars movies, but just really didn't feel like watching them.
"I have that one on DVD," Blaine told him. "I just watched it last week. But you can use my headphones if you want to."
"Nah, it's okay, I have some," Sam told him, pulling his out from the bag. Blaine laid his head back on Kurt's shoulder and closed his eyes, ready to land and be in California already.
He occasionally looked up to watch the movie with Sam, since he didn't want to leave his best friend hanging on a long plane ride. Kurt was on his laptop working on an editorial or something for Vogue, so Blaine didn't want to bother him. The movie ended about thirty minutes before they were supposed to land, so Blaine put everything away and sat his seat back up. He couldn't wait to get up and stretch his legs out.
After getting off and collecting their luggage, Mr. Shue led them out to a shuttle bus to go to their hotel. Blaine felt a little bit better after getting some rest, and felt ready to eat something and get some sleep.
Their hotel was nothing fancy, but at least everyone wasn't so crowded together. There were only five guys if you counted Blaine but not Unique. Mr. Shue, after a heated debate with Coach Sue, put him in the girl's room. Blaine only had to share a room with Jake, Ryder, and Sam. Mr. Shue and Artie were in a separate room so Artie could have his own bed, and since Kurt technically wasn't with the group, he had a separate room with Rachel. He had offered to let Blaine sleep in there, but Blaine wanted to be with his teammates before the big competition.
After everyone got settled, they all went back downstairs to meet up at the hotel restaurant. Blaine felt like eating until he actually got his food. The greasy burger made him want to be sick right there. He gave it to Jake, who couldn't seem to get enough.
"It's a show choir competition, not a playoff game," Marley teased. Jake rolled his eyes jokingly and accepted it anyway.
Blaine didn't know why he felt so nauseous all of a sudden. Kurt gave Blaine some of his salad, which tasted just fine.
"Alright, guys," Mr. Shue spoke up once everyone was mostly finished. "Big day tomorrow, obviously. I want everyone to get plenty of rest, which means no late night Disney marathons." He looked over at the girls when he said that. "Also, be down here tomorrow morning by 6:15. We're going to eat breakfast and then rehearse in one of the conference rooms for about an hour. We'll get dressed before we leave here, and do hair and makeup when we get there. Got it?"
Everyone answered in agreement, they paid for their dinners, and everyone went to their separate rooms. Blaine took some Tylenol he had brought, and changed into his pajamas early. Sam, Ryder, and Jake wanted to watch a pay-per-view movie, so they turned out the lights, and Blaine got in bed and hoped for it to kick in soon.
He didn't remember falling asleep. But when Blaine jerked awake, he quickly realized that he must have been asleep for more than a few minutes. The other guys were passed out, the TV screen dark.
Blaine used his phone as a flashlight as he made his way to the bathroom. He felt worse; hot and cold at the same time, sweaty and shaky, and he could tell that eating Kurt's salad was a bad idea. Before he could stop himself, Blaine found himself doubled over the toilet, throwing up everything.
He hoped to feel better afterwards; that was how it usually worked. But Blaine felt worse- weaker and left in more pain than before. He knew he needed rest, though. If he really was coming down with a bug, then spending the rest of the night on the bathroom floor wouldn't help.
As much as Blaine didn't want to move, he forced himself to move over to the sink and rinse his mouth out. He didn't want to wake up the other guys, and thankfully they were all still asleep as he made his way back to the bed he shared with Sam. Blaine covered up, still unsure if he was hot or cold, and forced himself to sleep. He was going to be better in the morning. He just had to be.
But the morning wasn't much better, either. Blaine's eyes shot open when his iPhone alarm blared. He scrambled to shut it off, but the movement sent a horrible pain through his abdomen. It didn't feel like any normal stomachache, though. What had been a dull, annoying ache the night before had turned into a sharp, throbbing pain. Something was wrong.
All of the other guys stirred when they heard Blaine's phone.
"Wha' time's'it?" Sam slurred.
"Five," Blaine mumbled. He had to get up to take a shower. But that required so much movement. But it was Nationals. Sick or not sick, he couldn't let them down.
Blaine realized he was lying closer to Sam than he would like to be with the other boy pushed him away.
"Dude, you're like super hot," he said. "Either you used too many blankets or you've got a fever or something, cause you're burning up."
"'m okay," Blaine said, quickly disregarding the fact that he did have a fever. The less people that knew he was sick, the better.
Apparently his argument wasn't convincing enough, because next thing he knew, Sam was pressing his cold hands all over Blaine's face.
"You are sick, dude, if you're gonna pass out on the stage like Marley did, then there's no way you're singing," Sam insisted.
"Hey, she couldn't help that," Jake interrupted, sticking up for his girlfriend. Sam ignored her and got up out of the bed. Ryder was up, too, and took Blaine's shower time.
"I'm calling Mr. Shue," Sam said, throwing the covers back to find his cell phone.
"No!" Blaine raised his voice. It was his last Nationals. He was singing. "I promise I feel well enough to go on. Come on, this is our last competition ever. I'm not missing out on it."
Sam's expression softened. It hit them hard- after this, they had nothing else. No more competitions. No more rehearsals. This was it.
"Fine," he said. "But I'm going to get Kurt."
Blaine didn't know why Sam felt the need to do that, but he didn't argue. At least he wasn't telling Mr. Shue.
Ryder was taking forever in the shower. Blaine was thankful he didn't have to get out of bed just yet, but he didn't want to be late for anything. Jake had taken a shower the night before, so he was already getting dressed and getting his performance clothes together.
Sam returned a few minutes later with Kurt, who rushed over to him.
"Hey, what's going on?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked worried, and Blaine was getting annoyed with everyone overreacting. Sure, it was pretty painful, but Blaine was going to perform, they would win Nationals, and he would be fine.
"I'm okay," Blaine said, letting Kurt hold his hand. "Just a stomachache. Can you hand me my Tylenol bottle?"
Kurt bent down to dig through Blaine's Dalton Academy duffel bag, and handed Blaine the medicine.
"How do you feel?" Kurt asked. "When did it start to hurt?"
"I'm fine," Blaine yawned. "I promise. It just started to hurt this morning." That was a lie, but Blaine knew if he told Kurt the truth that he would panic and tell Mr. Shue for real.
"Maybe a shower will help," Kurt told him. "If that Tylenol kicks in soon you should be good to go by the time you guys start rehearsing. Just don't overdo it."
Blaine nodded and closed his eyes. He heard Ryder turn off the water, which meant it was his turn next. Kurt got up and gave him a kiss before going back to his own room. Blaine sat up slowly and hunched over as he gathered up everything he needed.
He hated hotel showers. He never felt clean enough, but with everything going on, he didn't care much. He just wanted to curl up and sleep again.
The hot water made him feel dizzy and nauseous, and Blaine threw up again almost immediately after getting out. He just hoped no one heard him. He gelled his hair to perfection, threw on some workout clothes for rehearsals, and got his real clothes ready to go. The Tylenol hadn't helped, but Blaine was too busy to focus on how bad the pain was getting.
He went downstairs with the rest of the guys, and sat next to Kurt at one of the tables for breakfast.
"Hey," his fiancé said, taking a sip of coffee. "Feeling better?"
Blaine nodded. Another lie. He forced himself to eat something, just so he would have some energy to get through the day ahead. An hour of rehearsals. A ten minute performance. He could do it.
Mr. Shue called all of them into one of the conference rooms to go over their songs. Blaine wasn't feeling up to dancing at all, and had a hard time getting into it. He was just ready for it to be over.
Overall, the rehearsal was pretty bad. Everyone was too tired to take things seriously. They all finally just changed into their performance clothes and piled onto the bus to go to the event center.
"Are you feeling better?" Kurt asked Blaine. Blaine just shrugged. He was more worried about the team; no one seemed ready to win. At least Blaine had an excuse, but he wasn't going to let it bring the team down. Even if Mr. Shue did find out, nothing was going to stop him.
Once they arrived, the girls all scurried off to one end of their warm-up room to do each other's hair and makeup. The guys didn't have that to worry about, so they got to sit down until it was their time to sing. Artie and Jake went with Rachel to watch the other show choirs, but Kurt and Sam stayed behind with Blaine. There was a couch in the room, so Blaine sat down, trying not to make it obvious that he felt like crap, but still wanting to rest.
"Bro, you look worse," Sam said candidly. "You're sweating like you're in the middle of a desert or something."
"Blaine, why don't you lie down?" Kurt suggested. "You're shaking, and I don't think it's a good idea for you to go on."
"No!" Blaine snapped, pushing Kurt's hand away as he set it on Blaine's knee. "It's my senior year, Kurt. If I don't do this, then I won't have another chance. Ever."
Mr. Shue, who had been going over the performance schedule with Emma, looked up when he heard Blaine get upset. He frowned and walked over to the group of boys.
"Blaine, what's going on?" he asked.
"Noth-" Blaine began.
"He's sick and won't let us tell anyone," Sam spat out. "No, seriously, Mr. Shue, look at him. He threw up in the middle of the night, too."
Blaine turned to his best friend, horrified that he confessed. How did Sam hear him throwing up, too?
Mr. Shue went and rummaged through the first aid kit Emma had brought along, and fished out a digital thermometer. He forced Blaine to take his temperature. Blaine knew it couldn't be good.
"102.8. Blaine, I know how much you want this. But if you're this sick, and you've been throwing up, we just can't risk it. I see how hard you are on yourself. If something went wrong and we didn't win, you would never forgive yourself."
Blaine opened his mouth to argue how unfair Mr. Shue was being, but he had already called Ryder over. He explained about Blaine running a fever, and asked him to take over Blaine's solos. Blaine leaned back on the couch, numb. He couldn't believe it was happening. His senior year Nationals, wasted. All because of stupid Sam. They weren't going to win. Not without Blaine. Ryder wasn't even that good.
Blaine wanted to cry, but he couldn't. Not in front of so many people. He curled up against Kurt and moaned, barely audible. Suddenly, Blaine regretted eating breakfast. He pressed his hand over his mouth, trying to it from happening.
"Blaine?" Kurt's voice sounded a million miles away. Someone thrust a trashcan under Blaine's chin, and he finally gave in and held his head over the bucket, too sick to care who saw him get sick.
Blaine fell back against the couch and Kurt when he was finished. His throat burned, his right side felt like someone had stabbed him. Blaine didn't know what was happening anymore. The night before it had hurt all over, but now it felt specific, one annoying spot down on his right hip.
"Tina, lemme use the blanket you brought," Sam was saying. Blaine felt a fluffy throw being draped over him, and was suddenly very thankful Tina had brought that along.
"Better?" Kurt asked, wrapping his arm around him. Blaine felt less exposed, but far from better.
"Alright, guys, we need to get backstage," Mr. Shue announced. "Ryder, do you understand what you'll be doing?"
"Got it, Mr. Shue," Ryder agreed.
"Great. Kurt, are you coming to watch?" Mr. Shue asked him.
"No. Someone will video it. I'll stay here with Blaine."
Blaine broke free from the blanket. His side exploded with pain, but he didn't care.
"No, it's okay. Mr. Shue, can I go backstage? I just want to be with everyone before we go on."
Mr. Shue thought it over for about half a second before consenting. Blaine could hardly stand up straight without doubling over in pain, but he always had a plan.
He kissed Kurt goodbye so his fiancé could go sit in the audience to watch. Blaine found Ryder in the wings and pulled him aside.
"Forget what Mr. Shue told you," Blaine ordered. "He's going to let me sing. He said to just do what you originally rehearsed."
Ryder seemed confused for a second, but then nodded. "Okay."
Blaine knew it was wrong. He was a sweaty, feverish mess, but he wasn't missing out on his last Nationals. As they walked out onto the stage, he knew Mr. Shue was going to punish him, maybe even kick him out of the club for disobeying, but Blaine was just doing what he had to to insure a win.
They had three songs. Ten minutes. And Blaine was certain it was the longest ten minutes of his life. He kept remembering that it was his last time to perform, so he went all out, not letting the sharp pain slow him down. He tried not to show it on his face, and in the end, he truly believed they were the best.
They hustled off the stage afterwards and cheered, hugged, and ran to go find Mr. Shue and Emma. But Blaine lagged behind. He knew he had strained himself too hard. The adrenaline was running out, and he was left with the stabbing pain taking him over. He saw Mr. Shue in the distance, congratulating everybody, and then Kurt and Rachel rushed over to help Blaine.
"What's wrong with him?" Rachel demanded. "You didn't tell me he was this sick!"
"He wasn't," Kurt said, helping Blaine stand. He wanted to throw up, but there was nothing left in him. His knees were too weak; he couldn't stand. He saw Mr. Shue come over, probably to punish him, but he must have realized Blaine was dying. Or at least, that was what it felt like…
"Blaine? Here, guys, let's get him back to the warm up room," Mr. Shue said, helping lead Kurt and Rachel, who supported the majority of Blaine's weight.
"Ow," he moaned, dropping his head onto Kurt's shoulder.
"You're okay," Kurt told him. "Try to stand up. We've got you, just lean on me and Rach."
Blaine's chin was trembling, and he was certain he had never felt worse. Somehow they made it all the way back to their room, and Blaine was laid on the couch. He felt everyone staring at him, and got upset.
"Go away," he croaked. Kurt knelt down by him and took his hand. Blaine squeezed his eyes shut and took in a shaky breath.
"Will, I think he needs to go to the hospital," Emma peeped. Blaine shook his head, but of course no one took his thoughts into consideration.
"It'll be hours before we find out who won," Mr. Shue thought out loud. No. Blaine refused to go to the hospital. He wouldn't say he had a phobia of doctors, but certainly tried to avoid them at all costs.
"'ll be fine," he mumbled. But no one listened.
"I want to go with him," Kurt insisted, squeezing his hand a little. Blaine wanted Kurt with him, because there was no way he was going by himself.
"Kurt and Rachel can go. Everyone else needs to stay here. Emma, can you stay here with everyone else?" Mr. Shue asked his wife desperately.
"I-I guess," she said, sounding overwhelmed.
"Blaine, let's sit up," Kurt said. "I'll help you."
Blaine didn't want to move at all. But Kurt sat him up in one quick motion, and even though the pain spread like wildfire throughout his entire right side, it was done and over with.
"Mr. Shue, can't we all go?" Tina begged.
"Yeah, we all got to go when Quinn had her baby," Artie argued.
"We probably won't be there that long," Mr. Shue told them. "If Blaine's not out by the time we find out who won, then you can all come. Kurt, help him up. Rachel, are you coming or not?"
"Yes," Rachel said. Kurt helped Blaine up and supported him the entire way to the main entrance.
"We'll take the bus we rented," Mr. Shue said. "If the others want to come later I'll come back."
The Los Angeles sunshine did nothing to help Blaine warm up. He shivered in Kurt's arms and just wanted to get off his feet.
"Were we good?" he finally asked. He had nearly forgotten about their performance.
"Flawless," Kurt said, and rubbed his back. He helped Blaine sit down, and kept his arm around him the entire way to the emergency room. The traffic was horrible, but the event center wasn't too far from a hospital.
"Here we are," Mr. Shue said. "Go on in, guys. I need to find a place to park this thing."
"Let's go," Kurt said softly, making Blaine stand again. Rachel got off first, and then Kurt helped Blaine. They walked inside, and Blaine went for the nearest chair. Kurt helped him sit, and then went with Rachel to sign him in. It wasn't too crowded, considering it was the middle of the afternoon on a Friday.
Blaine rested his head on Kurt's shoulder, watching as he filled out all of the necessary forms for Blaine. Mr. Shue finally came in and sat with them. Blaine felt more and more anxious the longer they sat. What if something was really wrong? What if he had to stay overnight? Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's, too scared to admit that he was scared.
"Hey, you're gonna be fine," he promised, kissing Blaine on his hot forehead. "We're gonna be right here with you the whole time."
"It hurts," Blaine grumbled, squeezing Kurt's hand. "Really bad."
"I know," Kurt said. "They can give you some medicine to help. It'll be okay. Just don't worry. They'll take really good care of you."
Blaine hoped so. He wanted to return back to Lima in one piece.
He finally closed his eyes, too exhausted to worry. He couldn't tell if an hour had passed or just fifteen minutes, but Blaine heard someone call his name.
"That's you," Kurt said, helping him stand.
"No," Blaine pleaded, shaking his head. He absolutely couldn't walk anymore. The nurse who called his name must have noticed him struggle, because she eased him back into a wheelchair.
"Whoa, we don't want you falling over there. Just sit back, you can ride down to triage," she told him. Blaine hadn't even gotten a good look at her face. He just closed his eyes again, reaching out for Kurt's hand until he found it.
The nurse helped him onto a bed, and even though it was firm and thin, Blaine had never been more grateful to lie down. Kurt stayed by him and held his hand while Mr. Shue explained what was going on, pausing every so often as Rachel interrupted with her own opinion.
"What's your name, honey?" the nurse asked, looking down at Blaine.
"Blaine," he answered.
"On a scale from one to ten, Blaine, how bad is your stomach hurting you?" she asked.
"Ten," Blaine choked out. He wasn't exaggerating in the slightest. He felt like he was being ripped in half across his right side.
"That's not good." Duh, Blaine thought. The nurse took his temperature and blood pressure. Blaine just kept his eyes shut and let Kurt stroke his hair. He had been sweating so much it was no longer gelled down, but Blaine was too sick to feel self-conscious.
"Let's start you on some medicine for the pain, first off," the nurse said kindly. "You look like you could use it. I'll go get it ready. In the meantime, go ahead and change into a gown." She laid a folded up hospital gown next to Blaine, and then left the four of them alone.
"We'll leave you alone to change, Blaine," Mr. Shue said, and walked out with Rachel.
Kurt helped Blaine out of his dress shoes, bow tie, and itchy, uncomfortable dress clothes. Blaine shivered in just the gown and his socks, and curled back up on the bed, clutching Kurt's hand.
"Do you want me to call your parents?" Kurt offered. "I bet they'd like to know what's going on."
"Later," Blaine mumbled. He didn't want Kurt leaving him. Blaine took a breath, desperate for something to take away the sharp, consistent stabs of pain in his side.
Mr. Shue and Rachel returned with the nurse. She stuck a clear tube in both sides of Blaine's nose, which tickled.
"Your breathing is pretty fast," she explained. "Concentrate on taking some deep breaths. This medicine will help you relax, too." Blaine watched as she tied a band around his bicep and put rubbing alcohol in the crook of his elbow.
"Hey, don't look at it," Kurt said, pulling Blaine's attention back to him. Blaine forced himself to turn his head away, and he tried not to think about what the nurse was doing. "You're okay, honey, just relax. It'll help your stomach feel better."
Blaine shut his eyes, feeling dizzy even though he was lying down, and he felt the needle pierce his skin. It stung for a second, but then it went away. Blaine loosened his grip on Kurt's hand, waiting impatiently for the drugs to kick in already.
"Blaine, can you roll onto your back for me?" the nurse asked. Since Blaine wasn't doubled over in pain anymore, he finally got a good look at her. She was older, and kindly helped him move around. "There we go. Dr. Green will want to come in to take a look at you, and then we'll go ahead in for a CT scan if he thinks you need one. But for now just rest and let that medicine start to work."
"Thank you," Blaine mumbled. He already felt a little bit better. It was still agonizing to move, but when he laid still, Blaine was finally able to take a deep breath and focus on something other than the pain.
"Does that feel better?" Kurt asked. Blaine nodded slowly.
"Blaine, I've tried reaching your parents, but they haven't picked up yet. I left your mom a message," Mr. Shue spoke up. Blaine didn't want his mom to panic. His dad was probably caught up at his office, but Blaine knew when his mother found out he was in the emergency room hundreds of miles away, she wouldn't take it well.
But then Blaine got the idea.
"Cooper," he croaked. "M' brother. He's in Santa Barbara doing some theater thing."
"Here," Kurt said, whipping out his iPhone from his back pocket. "I have his number." Mr. Shue took Kurt's phone and disappeared behind the curtain that separated Blaine's bed from the rest of the triage pit.
"Marley's keeping me updated with what's going on at the competition," Rachel announced. "She said there's five more groups left to go, and then the judges are supposed to take less than an hour."
"We can't lose," Blaine murmured. "It'll be m' fault." He was feeling a little sleepy, but didn't want to fall asleep.
"We're not going to lose," Kurt assured him. "Don't worry about it. You did great, considering how you've been feeling. Has the medicine started to work?"
"Yeah. They're taking a long time. I'm ready to leave."
Kurt laughed a little. "We'll be out of here soon. Stop talking now, you need to rest."
Blaine moaned and covered his eyes with his arm. A nap sounded good, and Blaine figured he had earned it. He stopped fighting the medicine, and managed to tune out everything going on.
"Blaine, open your eyes," a voice said. It was Kurt. Blaine whined, not wanting to move or do anything. "Come on, the doctor is here to see you."
Blaine opened his eyes, and a bald, middle-aged man was standing over him, holding a clipboard. He smiled at Blaine and reviewed his chart.
"Nurse Alice said you have some pretty severe stomach pains," the man said. His voice sounded rough, like sandpaper.
"Yeah," Blaine answered.
"Let's have a look," Dr. Green said. "You just try and relax. Tell me if something hurts or it uncomfortable, and I'll stop."
Blaine nodded, and squeezed Kurt's hand apprehensively as the man poked around Blaine's stomach. Nothing felt painful, until he got to his right side. Blaine had been able to relax just fine, thanks to his very helpful pain medicine, but the second he brushed his fingers over Blaine's sensitive right side, he let out an involuntary yelp and tried to push him away.
Kurt took both of his fiancé's hands before he was able to hurt the man. "Shh, it's okay, Blaine, take a breath."
Blaine drew in a sharp breath of air and bit down on his bottom lip. Dr. Green had taken a step back and was writing something down.
"Alice, no need for a CT," he said to Blaine's nurse. The woman nodded, but looked surprised. "Classic appendicitis, he has all the symptoms. We might as well book him for surgery instead of running unnecessary tests."
Blaine was too busy calming down from the sudden jolt of pain to hear what the doctor had just said. But then Rachel spoke up.
"Wait wait wait," she insisted. "Surgery? Okay, look, we're not from here, and so if he really needs surgery can we just fly him back to Ohio?"
"Rachel…" Kurt warned. Dr. Green adjusted his glasses. Blaine had calmed down enough to listen.
"Unfortunately, no," he told her, not sounding regretful in the slightest. "Blaine, we're going to have to get you in the OR within a couple of hours. An appendectomy is simple and straightforward, and with no complications, you could be out of here within 48 hours."
Blaine didn't listen to his reassuring words. He was still taking in the fact that he was actually having surgery.
"His parents aren't here," Mr. Shue explained. "I've tried to reach them, but right now I'm responsible for him."
"I'll get you the consent forms," Nurse Alice spoke up, and hustled off. Blaine didn't want to believe it. No, he just had some stupid stomach bug. Not appendicitis.
"'s Cooper gonna come here?" Blaine mumbled, looking up at Kurt.
"He told Mr. Shue to call him back once we heard from the doctor," Kurt told him. "I bet he'll come down here now, though."
Blaine closed his eyes, not wanting to accept what was happening. Everything seemed to suddenly speed up. Mr. Shue got paperwork signed, Blaine was moved up to the third floor, and his mom finally returned Mr. Shue's call.
"I wanna talk to her," he murmured, worn out from the day's events.
"Okay, you can, just wait a minute," Kurt said patiently. "Just relax. Alice said you should try to sleep."
Blaine pulled his blanket higher with what little strength he had left. Kurt fussed over him and tried to make him comfortable. Blaine felt almost in a daze, like a dream. Perhaps it was from the medicine, or simply his exhaustion.
Blaine opened his eyes, and someone in lime green scrubs stood at the foot of his bed.
"MmmKurt," Blaine mumbled in one word. He reached out for his boyfriend, who looked at him worriedly. Blaine shivered, even though he felt burning up. "What's goin' on?"
"You fell asleep for about an hour and a half," Kurt told him. "We didn't want to wake you up since you needed your rest, but it's time for your surgery. Cooper's on his way and your mom's trying to get here, too. We'll all be here when you wake up."
"No, don't go," Blaine panicked, holding onto Kurt's hand tighter.
"I'm not going anywhere," Blaine promised. "You'll feel better once it's over." Kurt gave Blaine a kiss on his forehead and squeezed his hand before letting go. Alice started pushing his bed out of the room. Blaine just kept his eyes shut, not willing to look at the people who were about to cut him open.
He heard voices first, and then opened his eyes. Nothing hurt anymore, in fact, Blaine felt numb. His stomach felt tight, but the intense pain was all gone.
"He's awake!" a high voice cried.
"Shhh," another scolded. Kurt. Blaine focused his eyes on his fiancé and smiled.
"Hi," he mumbled. Talking was harder than Blaine imagined.
"Hi, honey," Kurt said, taking his hand. "How do you feel?"
"Ok," Blaine answered. "D-Did we win?"
Kurt frowned, and Blaine's heart fell. They lost. They lost, and Blaine was certain it was all his fault.
"Everyone else is on their way," Kurt told him. "They should be here pretty soon. Cooper's in the waiting room. Do you want to see him?"
"Don't leave," Blaine whined, tugging on Kurt's hand. "If we didn't win, what place did we get?"
"They'll tell you when they get here," Kurt told him. "They wanted to be the ones to tell you."
Blaine sighed, and Kurt stayed with him until the rest of New Directions showed up. Blaine was embarrassed to be seen by them when his hair was so gross and he was pale and still sick looking. Artie was carrying something in his lap, but Kitty was walking in front of him, so Blaine couldn't see what it was.
"Well, what place did we get?" Blaine asked, getting impatient. He wanted to know the results and then take a nap. Having surgery was hard work.
Kitty stepped aside so Blaine could see the trophy.
New Directions
Show Choir National Champions 2014
Blaine's jaw dropped. The way Kurt had worded things, New Directions had done awful. Blaine smiled and saw his reflection in the metal of the trophy. They had done it. The only thing Blaine wanted from his senior year was the national championship, and now they had it. Kurt gave Blaine a kiss on the cheek, and Blaine couldn't help but smile. He was exhausted, sore, and feeling a little bit dizzy, but at least it was over. Blaine had Kurt back, he was engaged, and even though the surgery was a little setback, Blaine Anderson had had a pretty good senior year.
Author's Notes:
Yes yes I know I've done appendicitis/stomach flu about a billion times *hides in shame* but Jess prompted this and I couldn't say no. I hope you liked it!
Unrelated: I hope everyone had a great Christmas! I'll try to update before 2014, but my main focus right now is finishing up one of my other fics, Without Warning. If you haven't checked it out, go give it a chance! I'm sort of slacking in the reader department. Thanks for putting up with me and my random updates, you guys. I promise to update this soon!