Statics and Kinematics

"Well, I met Jeremy Brown when we were both stuck in a hospital room together for a week. He told me about this script he was working on – he said he'd started screenwriting because it was less effort than prose. The main character was initially a girl so when he called me a month later and asked me to audition for the main role I was like, 'This better be a joke.'"

Blaine Anderson's first ever live interview – August 4th 2009

The day Kurt woke up from his coma was one of the best days of Blaine's life.

The other contenders couldn't really compete, if he was honest. Sure, the day he met Jeremy Brown and the day he landed his part on Rational Fear were up there, but it was a different kind of good. Each of those days had marked the start of a new chapter of his life – away from the dramatics and commotions of high school and into the dramatics and commotions of the television industry – but they were also marred by the uneasy memory of how exactly he came to meet the famed creator of the show.

Of course, the reason Kurt was even in a coma was Blaine's fault, and that guilt very nearly killed him, but when compared with the overwhelming rush of relief and elation when Kurt's fingers started to twitch in his palm… There really was no competition.

And then, when Kurt's eyes started to flutter open, Blaine thought he was going to swallow every next breath.

But he didn't.

Instead, he tightened his hand around Kurt's, gasping slightly when those delicate fingers started to grip back, and screamed for a nurse, or a doctor, or anyone with anything even approaching a medical degree. Then Kurt's facial muscles began to twitch and, oh God, it was really happening.

Every last detail of those excruciatingly long three minutes and forty-eight seconds was ingrained into his mind, etched onto his retinas.

Because, even sallow-faced and drained and ill, Kurt was still breath-taking.

And that hadn't changed.

Two weeks.

It seemed ridiculous to him, even knowing all he knew, that it only took two weeks to become completely and utterly enveloped in everything that was Kurt Hummel.

So when Kurt snaked his fingers around the tie he was wearing and smashed their lips together, Blaine felt himself swallow his breath all over again. They broke apart, their foreheads still resting on one another, Kurt threading their fingers together and Blaine convincing himself again and again that this was real… It was happening to him.

"Hey you," Blaine whispered.

Kurt smiled a small, enigmatic smile before tugging at Blaine's tie once more and drawing him further into the house.

The door latched shut behind them.

Blaine stood still, his knuckles white around the bouquet of flowers he had in his hands, staring at the hospital room door. This was stupid. He shouldn't even be here – in Ohio, let alone in a hospital that churned up one too many unpleasant memories.

And, sure, he was feeling bad, but it'd pass, right? And he needed to be in Los Angeles, like, yesterday.

He just –

He couldn't sleep.

For over a week he'd just spent his time lying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to so much as close his eyes.

Blaine reached forward and wrapped his fingers around the door handle. He took a deep breath and prepared to push the door open.

"Uh, dude, you like can't go in there. Family only."

The voice made Blaine startle and drop the handle like it had burnt him.

"Uh, sorry," Blaine floundered for words as he turned around and came face-to-face with the tallest teenager he had ever seen.

The teenager stood awkwardly behind Blaine, his hands shoved far into the pockets of his letterman jacket. Blaine immediately recognised the logo. William McKinley High.

"Don't sweat it," Mr Freakishly Tall said with an easy wave of his hand. Then he squinted at Blaine. "Hey, do I know you or something?"

A bubbling anxiety rose in Blaine's chest and suddenly he felt like a child caught with his hands in the biscuit tin.

"It's fine," Blaine said, ducking around the other teenager. "I'll just – I'll just go."

"You're the guy who crashed into Kurt with his car," Mr Freakishly Tall stated and in between the now fully-fledged burning panic, Blaine allowed the realisation to sink in.

Kurt. His name was Kurt. It suited him.

"I'll just go," Blaine repeated yet again, trying to get away as quickly as possible without breaking out into a run.

"No, you can stay." The voice cut across Blaine's hasty retreat. "Just, how on earth did you find his room? I asked the people at the front desk to keep his name and whereabouts on the down low."

Blaine flushed. This was the bit that made him seem really, really pathetic.

"I, uh, didn't find out from front desk," he admitted. "They wouldn't even tell me his name, let alone his room number. I, kind of, well, um, searched every room in the hospital until I found him?"

"Is that a question?" Mr Freakishly Tall asked back, seeming vaguely amused. "I'm Finn, by the way."

"Blaine Anderson," Blaine introduced on reflex.

Finn shrugged. "Cool. So, you wanna go see Kurt?"

Blaine stared as Finn twisted the door handle and pushed the door slightly ajar. He breathed, "I'm not family."

Finn smiled a small smile, one laced with so much emotion it made Blaine's stomach turn. Regret, bitter amusement, irony…

"Neither am I."

"How was school?" Blaine asked, fiddling with the end of Kurt's sleeve.

They were curled up on Kurt's sofa, trying desperately hard to make the living room of his house look actually lived in.

Kurt shrugged. "Fine, I guess."

Blaine raised his eyebrows doubtfully. "Really."

"Yes, really, Blaine," Kurt said. "God, people need to stop assuming that McKinley is some kind of hell on earth. It's just high school."

Blaine smiled wryly, "And here I was thinking those two were synonymous. No one gave you a hard time, though?" he pressed. "You said that you were sure pretty much everyone would have worked out you were the one I hit."

"I'm fine," Kurt insisted. "And even if I wasn't, I don't think locker slams would do much anymore. Those pain killers are amazing."

Blaine laughed, brushing their noses together. "My boyfriend, the drug addict."

"You love me anyway," Kurt teased.

Blaine's only answer was to hum, the sound neither a confirmation nor a denial.

Blaine soon got into a habit.

He'd called his manager a few days ago, telling Wendy that he really didn't feel like working right now. Rational Fear was on a shooting hiatus between its first and second season and although Blaine had potential jobs lining themselves up for him like ducks in a row, he hadn't made a commitment to any of them yet.

Wendy had just sighed this long-suffering sigh like, 'The things I put up for you, Blaine,' and told him to call her back when he was ready to work.

Since then, Blaine would busy himself reading scripts in the morning, when he presumed Finn had school, then drive down to the hospital and wait outside Kurt's room for Finn to let him in.

He had something of an odd companionship with Finn, one which was overshadowed by the questions neither of them were going to ask. Why are you even visiting him? Why are you even letting me visit him? Where are his friends? Where is his family?

It took four long days before Finn eventually spoke outright to him.

"You know you don't have to wait for me, right?" Finn clarified, resting a hand on the pristine white sheets of Kurt's bed. "I mean, I get that you don't want to overstep, but Kurt really doesn't have anyone to visit him these days."

"He has you," Blaine muttered, his fingers dancing around Kurt's limp hand. "And what about his friends and family?"

Finn just smiled another bitter smile.

"You know I could have been his brother," he eventually said.

Blaine kept quiet, waiting for Finn to elaborate.

"I could have been the best older brother ever, even though Kurt's like two months older than me, but I blew it." Finn stared at Kurt's face. "I just, I guess I snapped. Started screaming at him. Called everything about him 'faggy'. His father threw me out the house."

"Oh." What was Blaine supposed to say to that? That sucks man? Why are you telling me this? Instead, he chose, "Kurt's gay?"

Finn just looked at him like he was demented. Then he sighed.

"It's kind of easy to forget you don't really know Kurt all that well," Finn stated. "Even when he was in the closet, it was kind of like the door was wide open."

"Ah."

"It's just… It mattered so much back then," Finn continued. "That he liked guys. He stopped being Kurt and was just 'That Gay Kid'. I guess I never realised just how little it mattered until my football coach pulled me aside after practice and told me I was needed at the hospital."

Finn laughed emotionlessly. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this."

That makes two of us, thought Blaine. He didn't say that, though.

"You would have been a brilliant older brother."

It wasn't much, but Finn smiled. "I know."

"So, when do you go back to shooting?" Kurt asked, affecting the most casual intonation he could manage.

Blaine shrugged. "I fly back to LA next Tuesday."

There was a pause in the conversation as Blaine wrung his hands together and avoided Kurt's gaze. "Look," he said eventually. "I know we haven't talked about," he made a vague gesture at the space between them, "this at all, but – and oh God I sound like a teenage girl when I ask this – what are we?"

Kurt blinked. "What do you think we are, Blaine?"

"That's the thing, Kurt, I don't know. I mean, I'm probably the only gay guy you know, but that's all going to change when you go to Dalton and I don't want you to feel tied down to someone who's half a continent away and, oh my God, why are you laughing?"

Kurt put a hand over his mouth, shaking his head. "Blaine Anderson, for someone whose face is plastered over the bedroom walls of teenage girls worldwide, you aren't half insecure."

Blaine stared at him.

"If I were that desperate for a boyfriend, Blaine, I would have driven the two hours over to Westerville decked out in something really fabulous, and then flirted my way into the poly-cotton blend pants of any of those uptight prep school boys myself." Kurt rubbed his thumb over Blaine's knuckles. "But I don't want that."

Blaine swallowed his breath.

"So, I'll ask you again, Blaine, and for the love of God, don't get this wrong: what do you think we are?"

"Boyfriends?" Blaine asked nervously, his heart doing giddy cartwheels over how young and teenager-ish it all made him feel.

"Boyfriends."

And then Blaine leaned in and kissed him all over again.

"So, Kurt Hummel, we meet again," Blaine said to the unconscious boy in front of him.

The only answer he received was the steady beeping of Kurt's heart monitor. Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Finn said I should start visiting you on my own, so this is me on my own."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"I don't really know what I'm supposed to do here. All I really did with Finn was stare down at you and think about what a bastard I am for putting you here, but I don't think I can keep that up for another week."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"The more Finn tells me about you, the more it tears me apart. Before you were just this student I hit with my car, but now… I look at you and I see… I see what I might have become if I'd never gotten out of high school. I see Blaine Anderson, version 0.3, and it freaking terrifies me, because… Because you're doing so much better than I think I could have ever done."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"And when I made that dumb video, Courage, I was just terrified, but Finn talks about you and I kinda get that you're just … fearless in a way that I could never be."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"I mean, look at you, Kurt. You're stunning. You're stunning and perfect and brave and it's not fair that you were the one I hit."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Just please, Kurt… Just please wake up."

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Kurt?"

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Oh my God, Kurt!"

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

"What's going on?"

"He's waking up. He's – he's waking up!"

"OK, sir, I'm going to need you to—"

"Oh my God—"

"Sir!"

"Oh my – I need to find Finn—"

"Sir, stay calm!"

OK, sorry this is very late. I was at London ComicCon yesterday and today, which has led to me being trapped in London due to a storm. I am currently sat in my friend's house, listening to the rain.

Enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think,

Kaputt