This is set some time around episode 2:11 "The Sue Sylvester Shufffle".
Prompt December 1st: Ache
They said it was routine, nothing to worry about. It did nothing to quell Kurt's heartache, though.
The four of them had been sitting down for Friday night dinner, when his dad had put a hand up to his chest.
"Must have been the spicey tacos," he joked, but Carole had called for an ambulance. It still feels as if it was only yesterday they were summoned to the hospital after his heart attack, it still feels as if it is merely hours since he was discharged and could go home. Even if Kurt offered, demanded really, to be the event organizer, he knows preparing the wedding was stressful for both Burt and Carole. Learning about Kurt's bullying wasn't exactly helping his heart either, or the necessary but difficult decision to transfer Kurt to Dalton.
They said it was routine to keep him over the night, check his heart rhythm and make sure everything was okay. But everything isn't okay.
Carole is sitting with him now. Kurt had to get out. The dry air was choking him, all the hospital smells got to him, and he couldn't help thinking about his dad in a recent coma, and how he just needs a break from everything bad already. This time he isn't doing it alone, though. Finn's out looking for some decent food for the three of them. With the aborted dinner, they were all kinds of hungry, even if it isn't the most prominent conscious thought.
Kurt initially went outside for fresh air, but he forgot his jacket in his dad's room, and eventually had to escape inside again. He sat down in the waiting area, restlessly flipping from one page to the other in a random magazine left on the table. There's a big sign declaring mobile phones are forbidden, otherwise he would have whipped it out to call someone, talk with someone, feel less lonely and scared. There's an ache in his stomach, gnawing at his intestines, and he could cry blood if he wasn't so numb.
"Kurt?"
He looks up startled at the sound of his name, and his eyes land on the last person he expected to see her, but the first person he would have called if he could.
"What are you doing here?" Kurt asks confused, and for a brief moment wonders if Finn called him? Or if Finn told Rachel, who told Mercedes, who knows what Kurt is feeling about the boy, and called Blaine?
"I had to drive Nick and what might have been a broken hand," Blaine chew his lip.
"Oh my God, what happened, is he okay?" Kurt clears away the magazines and old newspapers next to him, and Blaine sits down on the couch next to him.
"We were goofing around with Misery, and somehow it turned into a competition of who could knock the loudest on a table," Blaine says sheepishly. "He's in x-ray now, and I was told to wait here and stop fussing…"
Kurt smiles, because he can easily imagine Blaine fussing over Nick, and maybe somehow feeling responsible or even guilty.
"So, why are you here?" Blaine asks concerned, and rests a hand on Kurt's knee.
"My dad," Kurt begins, and chokes on his own voice.
Blaine shuffles closer, and alone in the waiting room he wraps an arm around him. Kurt dares to rest his head on this amazing boy's shoulder. He doesn't say anything, no invalid reassurances, but just holds him, his chin on top of Kurt's head.
The fist of ache in Kurt's stomach loosens a little, and he can breathe more easily.