Wes is not a doctor

So Blaine's sick, and not just like a cough, cough I'm over it sick. No. He's been hunched over the toilet bowl for the past half an hour hacking up every intestine inside his little body. You'd think that this would be our biggest problem right now. No. Outside there's a storm filling the street immensely with snow caught in violent winds. There's no school considering the fact that most of the students in dorm couldn't reach the main building where all the class were. There's no Warbler's practice which is un-acceptable when it's so close to regionals. There's no power. There's no way to get out, and I am most definitely not a doctor. For the past half an hour I've sat on the bed arms wrapped around my knees building up tears that are stuck in the ducts of my eyes. My face puckered up like a lemon was shoved in my mouth when I heart a particular throat ripping retch. The incessant sound of the whistling wind is a good distraction from the hostile gags pouring out from Blaine and I's shared bathroom. It was a good distraction, but not a complete on. Now, the four hard thumps on our door was a fantastic distraction. I get up, and crack open the door. A bright white light spills into the dark room. I was met with Thad holding a flashlight.

"Hey!" He exclaimed. "We're playing some board games in the foyer if you- is Blaine okay?" He trailed off voice, now, dripping in concern.

"No," I sigh. "He's most definitely not okay, but I can't help him out with my bad gag reflex."

He asks, "Is he sick."

I gesture for him to come in where moans are now slipping out from our bathroom. "Yeah," he says. "Most definitely sick. Can I go see him?"

"Yeah, sure, I most certainly will not be in your way," I reply. I watch Thad swing open the bathroom door, and I little yellow light emits from the doorway. I had put candles around the room for some light before Blaine got sick. I've been avoiding that bathroom like it was hell itself. As much as Blaine is one of my best friends I'm not fine with being acquainted with his disease. It's quite anomalous in here. Our dorm room is certainly quiet without him running and vaulting around like a pup. Sitting back down on my bed, I close my eyes and pretend Blaine is definitely not puking 12 feet away from me. Maybe an allusion would help. Thad and Blaine are just spending some well needed quality time brushing their teeth amongst each other.

"Hey, bud, how you doing?" I hear Thad say from in the bathroom. An un-legible grumbled had followed alongside a dry heave.

"Come on," Thad said. "Let's get you up off the floor. Do you want to get into bed?"

No.

No.

Blaine can stay in the bathroom, and completely out of my sight thank you very much. I don't need his body enveloped in a mist of disease anywhere near me. Plus, what if he wants throws up in front of me. Revolting. A dry gag leaves my throat.

I hear a gasp from the bathroom, and Thad says breathlessly, "Holy shit, Blaine! You're burning up so much."

"Mmmmmm," Blaine moaned back. "Thanks Einstein." Well. At least he still has his sarcasm, so he's not dying. That's good.

A figure stumbles out of the bathroom in a hurry, and it bolts across the dorm room. It was Thad. He nearly stumbled over the dresser at the feet of the Blaine's bed closest to the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"To go get Hummel. His step-mother's a nurse, so he'll know what to do," Thad answered. A smirk lifted his lips. "And it'll be an excuse for him to see Blaine without a shirt on." Everyone in the Warblers know about Kurt's not so subtle crush on Blaine. I wouldn't be surprised if the whole school knew about it. He trails Blaine around like a puppy trying to keep up with his owner. With the eyes he gives Blaine when he talks or sings, he should just be saying I love you please notice me.

"He's not wearing a shirt?" I ask. "Isn't he cold?"

Thad answered making the door shriek as he opens it, "Well, yeah, probably, but there's a shirt on the bathroom floor with puke on it."

"Oh god," I grumble feeling my stomach drop while a little bile crawls up my throat. Swallowing it down, I close my eyes to hear the loud bang of the door shutting. When I open them, I see another figure walk out of the bathroom swaying much like a willow in the wind. Well, Thad was gone, so that must mean that figure is Blaine. Who is sick. Who can puke at me any minute. Or just puke in my line of vision any time.

"No," I say. "Get back in there."

Blaine rolls his eyes, and grumbles, "Just- just calm down. It's not like I haven't puked on you before."

"Doesn't make it less mortifying."

"Relax," Blaine says closing his eyes, and oh my god he's not going to puke right now is he? "I'm just trying to find some Tylenol or Advil."

"Just hurry up, and don't puke. Okay?" I reply looking at our large wood door color that was stained the same color as chocolate. I hear some lazy shuffling behind me, and some closing, shutting and rustling of drawers. It was true… that he puked on me before. It just wasn't really a pleasant time that I enjoy talking about. When Blaine first came to Dalton, he would jump at any physical contact. His eyes were always close at the sound of loud banging noises. He was put in my dorm room because the dean had thought I'd be able to help him out. Which I had after I introduced him to the Warblers, but he barley talked at that time nonetheless sung in front of anyone. I invited to come because he needed more friends than just me and his Harry Potter books. He was a little scared cutie back then. Like a turtle tucked in his shell that only came out when you offered to watch Lord of the Rings with him. One day I found him sitting at the piano spilling out his heart in a song, and I told him he must try out for the Warblers. Being the shy introverted kid he was back then, he was shaking like an old pattered washing machine at the time of his audition. After he sung in front of the crowd, he looked like was a ghost, and I rushed him out of the room where he proceeded to get sick. All. Over. Me. To this day I still don't know who was more traumatized.

"Crap!" I heard Blaine groaned behind me.

"What?" I asked. "You're not going to puke are you? Because I will gladly show you the way out of the room."

"No, it's just that we only have gravel, and it's all out," he growled voice tight.

I answered back, "Kurt's coming up to mend you. I'm sure he'll have something."

The sound of silence hung in the room for a brief amount of moments, and all movement stilled until Blaine shrieked, "He's coming up? He's going to see me all weak and gross and sick and-"

Blaine was cut off by the sound of violent bangs on the door. Thank god. Sick Blaine was no longer my problem. I sank back to into my bed letting the fluffy pillow engulf it, and I finally take a peek at Blaine. He was shirtless, for one. I've never seen his curls so wild they looked like a tangled jungle, and his lips were as pale as his skin which was taking the color of snow. Nauseating. His movements was clumsy, and he walked around like he could barely hold his own body weight.

"Blaine, you look really bad," I say.

"Thanks," He grumbles back, as the door burst open with six bodies stumbling in with arms over flowing with supplies. I sigh with relief. Blaine runs off to the bathroom, and room fills up again with heaves alongside sounds of sympathy. Kurt, Thad, Trent, Nick, Jeff and David all filling up the room with their bodies and board games. Board games? Does that mean that the games down in the foyer were being temporarily withdrawn? Does that mean I'm still stuck in here with a sickened Blaine? At the very least there's people here to attend to-

Oh lord…

There goes that awful retching, again.

Kurt cooed, "Aw, poor Blaine."

"Aw, poor Kurt gets to take care of a shirtless, helpless, cuddly, pathetic, sick Blaine," David teased with a knowing smirk we all have been acquainted with. Rolling his eyes ignoring the red spilt across his cheeks, Kurt stalked into the bathroom. Lord have mercy on him.

"So," Trent smiled looking at me while the bed sinks my legs when he sits. "Still not over your fear of barf?"

"More like the absolute terror and anxiety it ensues on him when someone sneezes," David said while he sat upon the floor pulling out a game of connect four with Thad.

"Oh hush," I grumble back. "Shall I bring a few tarantulas next Warblers practice?"

"No." The answer was immediate, and I felt a smirk lift up my lip. "No, no. Who said anything about germs? No one? Right."

Ha, David should know not to tease me when I counter anything with all of his secrets. That's what happens when you've been best friends five years and counting.

"Wait…" Jeff started with eyebrows strained so close together they nearly touched. "I thought Trent had said something and David you literally just said Wes was scared of a sneeze!"

"David was being sarcastic because he doesn't want Wes to bring tarantulas to practice," Nick replied rubbing his hands up and downs Jeff's shoulders slow like intimate massage. Over the years Nick had to be a translator for Jeff when sarcasm or witty words were used in a conversation. Actually, a sigh dripped in relief always escapes my lips after Nick explains instructions to Jeff, so I don't have to. Jeff's kind of stupid, and I mean that in the most loving way possible. The warblers are family. We're a 'fam jam' as David always says.

Sounds of water rushing around in the bathroom caught everyone's attention. Guess the powers back. David and Thad sitting atop the black stained carpet left their Connect Four chips lonesome. The idle conversation between me and Thad hushed. Jeff and Nick laying on Blaine's bed broke apart their arm wrestle, and peeped at the bathroom. Were they- no, they're just friends… they can't be showering together. Everyone else seemed to have somewhat of similar ideas to mine.

Thad started, "Are they-"

David cut him off with a bullet fired from his mouth, "Shhhhhhhhh!"

"Why-" I started only to be cut off with another vicious 'Shhhhhhhhh'.

He crawled over to the bathroom door fast like a dog running towards the call for supper. Everyone, including me, just rolled their eyes at his antics (Because he's David, and David does some weird ass things), but then his body is taken over by hysterical giggles. While I lay on my bed, all the others rumble over to the door and pile at the bottom. The giggles spread like an infectious disease. Well, crap, now I'm curious. But… the barf….

Well, fuck.

After turning on the lights, thank god for the power that has returned, I join the huddle by the bathroom door. Muffled words were blocked by the bodies, and the thick bathroom door. I still couldn't quite hear what was going on in the bathroom. Pushing my way through the huddle the words become more clear, and a smile appears on my face.

"Blaine! Just get in the goddamn bath!"

"No! It's mad at me!"

"The bathtub has no feelings, Blaine."

"But I barfed on him…"

"Which is the exact reason why you, good sir. Need. To. Get. In. there."

"Hey, hey, hey let's just go cuddle, and you know, go talk to the other guys."

"Blaine you have puke all over you, and I really don't want Wes to pass out."

"But the bath hates me!"

"Oh my god!"

"Hey, Kurt!" Trent calls oh so sweetly. "Do you need some help? Want me to grab anything?"

"Yes, please!" Kurt huffed back. "Wait are you guys ease dropping?"

"No-"

"Totally-"

"What's ease dropping?"

"Sorry-"

"It's listening to a conversation, Jeff."

This is worse than an un-organized Warblers practice…

"Ugh," Kurt huffed, again. "Can you grab the gravel from my bag? Please?"

"Of course!" Trent hollered back. He goes around the corner back to where the beds were, and there was some jostling of pills. Stepping over everyone, Trent goes to open the bathroom door. No. No. No. the door swings open and there's Blaine dressed in navy boxer laying half propped against the toilet and oh-my-god-that's-a-lot-puke.

…

…

…

"Wesley, are you awake?" a voice far, far, far away says, and yes, I'm awake, idiot. My eyes are just closed. When I blink them open to a brightly lit room, and all I can see is heads. Six of them, to be exact. Sighs of relief blow onto my skin. Gross. I don't know why they feel the need to hunch do close to me I can honestly feel the tickle of their eyelashes.

"Guys," I say. "May you please back up?"

"Yes, of course," Thad? I think relied. It sounded like Thad. "David back the hell up!"

All of the heads pop out of my sight, and I met with the sight of the ceiling. Why is everyone here? In Blaine and I's dorm."

"What happened?" I asked. God, my throat feels tight.

David, I'll always be able to recognize that voice, laughed, "You passed out when you say Blaine in the bathroom bathing in puke."

Puke?

Oh right, Blaine's sick, and he was puking. Heaving immensely in the bathroom when everyone came in, and Kurt went in and…

I swallow, and just barely squeak out, "Right."

"But hey!" David continues in an obnoxiously enthusiastic way that makes me clench my jaw. "Kurt managed to get Blaine's fever down, man, you missed quite the show. We had to text Cooper to see what was going on, but apparently Blaine gets all loopy with a fever. Hilarious."

"It's not that funny considering his fever was at a 103.2," A higher voice than the rest snaps. That-that must be Kurt.

"I'm sorry," David retorts in a way that drips with anything but apologetic.

Sitting up with sluggish movements, I see board games spilled all over the floor. I hate messes. Okay, maybe I should leave the room if Blaine is still sick because passing out again is anything but the image I need to hold. To my right there was a lump of blankets lying next to Kurt who was rubbing his hand all over it with gentle strokes. When it grumbled out a moan, I knew it was Blaine.

Kurt whined, "Oh my god, David! You woke him up! He needs his sleep."

"Is he still sick?" I spew out fast.

"No," Kurt replies. "Well, yes, actually, he still has a little fever, but hasn't puked in a half an hour."

Half an hour? No, that doesn't- doesn't seem right. "How long was I out for?" I asked.

David huffed out a laugh, and I shot glaring eyes faster than a bullet from the gun. His laugh was shot down while he said, "The first time it was for, like, five minutes then Blaine came out of the bathroom, and you kind of just passed out, again. Do you not remember?"

I nodded just as Blaine started to grumble, "I wish I had my ducks with my right now."

Raising my eyebrows, so that they peak into my forehead, I ask, "What?"

"Kurt! Where are my ducks?" Blaine grumbled voice increasing a pitch.

With Kurt shushing him, everyone else seemed to mumble. My bed shrieks, as I roll off of it. I ask, "Is he going to puke again?"

"No, he shouldn't… he's been talking about ducks a lot while you were out," Kurt said. Blaine rolled over facing away from Kurt snores coming out of his mouth. "Man, Blaine is a crazy sick person."

"Okay," I say stalking to the door. "I'm going to go down to the common areas, so I can avoid sick Blaine. Anybody want to join?"

Everyone except Kurt and Blaine stood up, and followed me out into the hallway. The door snapped closed. We all padded down the hallway towards the stairwell with a smile on our faces. We all knew that this was a big step for the infamous Klaine we've been waiting for. Maybe Blaine being sick wasn't the only reason I left the room. Those two needed alone time.

"Dude," David spewed out. "You should have seen them while you were passed out. Kurt was, like, practically spooning him."

"It was cute," Trent replied.

Jeff chimes in, "Sooooooo… are our bets still on?"

"Yep," I say. "Though David's out of the race."

"Hey!" David yells his voice echoing in the stairwell we were now walking in. "I'm sorry that Blaine is a lot dumber than I took him for."

I smile more. However dumb Blaine was, I just need him to find his sense around regionals. If he does, Trent and I win the bet. We all reach the common rooms, and pile onto the open couches in front of the television. After two movies later, I retire upstairs to the dorm room. I pray harder than a priest that Blaine was not still sick. I reach for the door knob, and turn it opening the door and being faced with snores and a dark room. Looking at Blaine's bed I see Kurt laying on his back. His chest was pillowing Blaine's face, as they snuggle. Adorable. I snap a picture to send to the Warblers. We all know the budding love of Klaine was bubbling. We're all waiting for the day it boils. That day better be regionals because I have fifty dollars on the line.