Blaine blinked out of a haze. His coffee had gone cold, and he wasn't sure how much time had passed. Had he zoned out or dozed off?

He looked up at Kurt: attached to a heart monitor, a ventilator, blood pressure monitor, IVs and tubes seemingly everywhere. Blaine knew they were saving his life, delivering medication, sedatives, and a blood transfusion. Kurt's right arm was wrapped in thick layers of bandages. A patch fell over his right temple and half of his forehead, where his brain bleed was. Several more bandages covered the left side of his abdomen, where surgeons had tried to repair the damage to his spleen and lung caused by it. The bullet.

Blaine looked up at the monitor displaying Kurt's vitals. Nothing looked abnormal. He kissed the side of his husband's head. "I'm right here, babe. I'll be right back." And he left to get a new supply of caffeine, and to splash some water on his face to wake up.

It was like living a horrendous nightmare. Blaine was beginning to grow concerned for his husband when he hadn't returned after his photoshoot the night before. That was when he had gotten the call from the ER.

Looking back, Blaine remembered the day of the accident vividly. An embryology lecture. Lunch. A four-hour genetics lab. He was grateful to be loving school as much as he was, despite the difficult coursework.

In the evening, Blaine arrived home to an empty apartment. Kurt usually beat him home, until Blaine remembered it was Thursday. Kurt had stayed late to attend a photoshoot, so Blaine was in charge of dinner by himself.

One half-empty pizza box later, Blaine found himself on the couch, digging out his embryology book. Kurt hadn't given him a time he would be home, so Blaine figured he owed him a phone call.

After Kurt reassured him he was on his way home, Blaine felt a little better, eager to see his husband after a long day. Marriage wasn't as easy as he thought it would be, but Blaine loved Kurt so much it hurt, and the little arguments that sometimes popped up were worth it in his eyes.

He lost track of time. Blaine called Kurt at 6:47. By 8:30, Blaine was engrossed in his book, but looked up and realized what time it was. Kurt isn't home.

He quickly called his husband. Straight to voicemail. Blaine turned on the local news, hoping to see a backup on the subway, or something else that would explain his absence. Nothing.

Three more calls. Voicemail. Blaine had Kurt's location on his iPhone, but since the phone was either turned off or dead, it was no use. He debated calling Rachel, but Blaine didn't feel up to dealing with her inevitable questions.

Blaine couldn't help feeling guilty; he should have realized long before it got dark that Kurt hadn't gotten home yet. It never took him more than 45 minutes to get home on the worst of days, so something was definitely wrong.

At 8:57 Blaine got a call from an unknown number with a New York area code. He didn't know it at the time, but that phone call would change everything.

"Hello?" Blaine answered quickly, his heartrate picking up.

"Sir? I'm looking for a Mr. Blaine Anderson?" a young female voice said. There was commotion in the background, and it was difficult to hear her.

"This is Blaine," he answered quickly, wanted to know what the woman wanted.

"I'm calling on behalf of Kurt Hummel. You were listed as one of his emergency contacts in our system. We're currently treating him in the Mt. Sinai emergency room. He was the victim of a severe assault. We think it might be best if you're able to come down to be with him."

Blaine's heart fell out of his chest onto the floor. Words couldn't make it from his brain to his mouth. He even forgot for a second he was on the phone. Someone had hurt Kurt. His husband, who did nothing wrong.

He didn't know how bad it was. Was Kurt awake? Was he in pain? It felt like the world was crumbling down on top of Blaine. He couldn't get to the hospital soon enough, but what if he was too late? Was Kurt going to need surgery? Did he have a head injury? Questions rushed through Blaine's mind like a news feed, getting more and more grim. Oh gosh, he couldn't even begin to think of a world without Kurt, it was-

"Sir? Are you there?" the voice said.

Blaine snapped back to reality. "I-I'm coming. How bad is it? Is he awake?" he begged. He kept the phone to his ear, throwing on a coat and grabbing his wallet.

"He's in critical condition, but he's stable and holding on for now. We've sedated him so he's not currently conscious. The trauma surgeon will be able to give you more information once the police arrive. See you soon, Mr. Anderson."

Arriving at the hospital was a blur in Blaine's memory. He got to see Kurt for about five minutes before they took him in for an emergency surgery. The sight of his injuries made Blaine feel physically sick, that one person could inflict that upon another person. Kurt hadn't been awake, but Blaine forced himself not to cry, promising his unconscious husband he'd be there when it was over.

As it turned out, Kurt was attacked viciously by some attempted kidnappers, and was still hanging on by a thread. The police met Blaine at the hospital once Kurt was in surgery, and he had to sit through them describe an account from a witness. He was so proud of Kurt for saving the girl, but he had paid a steep price for it.

Luckily they had been able to arrest the two men, but that still didn't put Blaine's mind at ease. Just thinking about everything they had done made him sick to his stomach.

He even made the phone call to Kurt's dad that he had been dreading. He panicked possibly more than Blaine had, since he was over 500 miles away and unable to do anything except scramble to find a way out to the city.

Rachel, Finn, and Mercedes had even offered to come sit with Blaine in the waiting room, but Blaine truly didn't have the energy to be around his friends. All he could do was bide his time, trying not to jump to the worst possible scenario…

After getting some fresh, steaming coffee, Blaine looked down at his phone. Almost eleven am. He had been awake for close to thirty hours, and at the hospital for over twelve. Kurt's emergency surgery had gone late into the night, Blaine not getting to see him in the ICU until after three that morning.

The worst part was, they weren't sure when Kurt was going to wake up from the anesthesia. Part of Blaine wanted him to stay unconscious longer, because he knew Kurt wasn't going to react well when he woke up in the hospital and in pain. He also just wanted Kurt to know he was there, not leaving his side for anything.

The neurosurgeon seemed optimistic, at least. She told Blaine the bleeding in Kurt's brain wasn't severe, despite his skull fracture, so he shouldn't have any side effects, so long as it cleared up on its own, which was usually the case.

Blaine returned to his vigil by Kurt's bed. His knees had been thankful for a break from sitting in the uncomfortable wooden chair. Even though the ICU was bleak- simply a small area sectioned off by curtain, Blaine would have crossed oceans to be with Kurt when he needed him the most. Blaine was the most worried about him being in any type of pain, even though the nurses all reassured him Kurt was kept comfortable.

It was another hour before he stirred at all. Blaine had been smart enough to grab a phone charger before he left the apartment in his rush, so he could keep Burt, Carole, and their friends up to speed, mostly as a distraction for himself.

He was holding Kurt's good hand, stroking his thumb across his knuckles when Blaine felt his arm twitch. His head snapped up, and he watched Kurt's hand slowly move, up to his mouth where the breathing tube was attached.

"It's okay," Blaine said softly, pulling Kurt's hand away. "Don't touch it. I'm right here, hold my hand."

Blaine stood up, hitting a small switch on the wall that would page for a nurse. He grew anxious, watching Kurt grow more and more agitated, squeezing Blaine's hand and trying to flutter his eyes open.

An older nurse came in, assessing Kurt and helping take the tube out of his mouth. Blaine was worried, since the night before they said Kurt was barely breathing on his own, but everything seemed fine once it was over. Kurt's eyes were wide open now, and he coughed several times before managing to relax.

"Everything looks fine so far," the nurse said to Blaine. She stuck a cannula in Kurt's nose. "That'll just give him some extra help since his left lung is collapsed. Kurt, how are you feeling?"

Kurt opened his mouth but no words came out. Blaine sat back down, taking his hand again. He knew his husband was taking everything in, probably more scared than anything.

"I think he's just really overwhelmed," Blaine explained.

The nurse smiled sympathetically. "I can come back. He'll get less groggy over time."

They were alone again, and Blaine noticed Kurt's eyes filled with tears. "Hey, it's okay," he said, barely above a whisper. "You're okay. I'm here. I've been here all this time."

He wanted to just get in the small bed with Kurt and hold him close, but he was far too fragile for that. Holding his hand was the most Blaine dared, not wanting to hurt Kurt in the slightest.

"Can we…" Kurt started, taking a breath. "Go home?"

Blaine's heart broke for him. As much as he wanted to go home, too, they wouldn't be able to for a while. He knew Kurt was going to hate the hospital stay. He was just thankful he was awake and coherent, compared to how things could have turned out.

"Not yet," Blaine said regretfully, kissing his hand. It sounded like Kurt struggled to just get a few words out. "Don't talk if it's hard, babe. Your eyes are drooping. You can go to sleep; I'll stay right here."

Kurt kept his eyes open for a few more minutes, not saying anything, and Blaine knew he was trying to fight sleep. Finally, Kurt's mouth fell open a little bit, as it always did when he dozed off, and Blaine knew he had given in.

He returned to his phone, typing out a message to Burt that his son had regained consciousness, and swallowed the dregs of his coffee. He watched Kurt's chest rise and fall as he slept peacefully; admittedly he already looked better off with the ventilator gone.

Everything was still so fresh. Kurt's injuries hadn't had any time to heal yet, they had no clue when they would get to leave the hospital, and the police still wanted a statement from Kurt himself. Blaine knew the next few days and weeks were going to be long and hard on them both, and in a way, it felt like to Blaine that the nightmare was just beginning, since he had no idea what was to come.

Author's Notes:

I hated doing that to Blaine just about as much as I hated doing it to Kurt. Poor guys.

Thank you so much for your kind reviews and prompts! I am hard at work until I have surgery in about a week and a half. Several of you are super into Blangst... so a lot more of that is coming up. Happy Memorial Day to my American readers and happy birthday Chris Colfer!

On an unrelated note, has anyone watched Schitt's Creek? I have never binged through a show so fast. Carry on!