A/N Hey look a bunch of author's notes that you don't care about! But really, please do read this.
Really important thing - I now own a tumblr where I post this as well, if that's your thing, especially since all the crazy has been going on around here with M rated stuffs.
the url for me there is misszenno as well, so shouldn't be any trouble finding it.
Warnings: the same as last chapter
I really wanted to apologize because, well, I was in the hospital which sucked, but I totally let this story die for about a month and a half, which wasn't cool, so I'm sorry.
On the same note, please everyone, when you think to yourself "hey I should probably go get that checked out by a doctor" please actually do. Don't hesitate or procrastinate to do so :( That is my sincere advice to you all, friends. Because surgery that could have been avoided totally blows. And leaves scars. I love you all and I know this chapter is real short, but well, the story really couldn't be broken up any other way.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee
"Hey, kid. How're you doing?"
Blaine smiled as he let Mr. Hummel into the room, his eyes finding the floor as he thought for a quick second before answering. "I'm okay. Been better, but...well…" The curly-haired boy trailed off weakly, and then smiled again, looking at Burt, trying his damnedest at the manners he remembered. "What about you, sir?"
"…Been better."
They both just sort of nodded at each other, not wanting to acknowledge that Kurt's situation had been bringing them down, but knowing that was the case.
"So," Burt started, his tone of voice changing, "Kurt ready to go?" He leaned a little from his position by the door to glance to the attached bathroom, from which sounds of Kurt rustling around and fumbling could be heard.
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, he's just grabbing a couple things, um—" Blaine's pierced eyebrow arched as he looked to the closed bathroom door. "Actually, that shouldn't be…" He mumbled quietly to himself, but trailed off as he made strides over to the bathroom. "Babe? Babe, can I open this?"
There was a pause, and Blaine simultaneously panicked that Kurt was harming himself, and also wanted to face-palm for using a pet name in front of his boyfriend's father.
"Blaaaiine, I was just about to pee."
The curly-haired boy rolled his eyes and caught the gaze of Burt, who seemed only slightly confused, his eyebrow raised. Blaine blinked and turned back to face the door, his cheeks burning just a bit.
"Kurt. This shouldn't be closed. I'm gonna open it."
"Fine, I'll just…pee later." Kurt audibly sighed from within the bathroom and Blaine tried to open the door, but was unable to do so. "Hold on. It's locked."
"Kurt!" Blaine scolded him, seemingly forgetting Burt was there at all, and the pale boy unlocked the door, swinging it open, wearing his now-always-present tired expression.
"Sorry. Sometimes I forget that I have absolutely no privacy anymore…" Kurt turned back into the room and grabbed one more item to put into the small shoulder bag he had with him. "Besides, Thad abuses this whole open-door thing. Honestly."
Blaine smiled at the trace amounts of the old Kurt he got to see on occasion and nodded, flinching when Kurt all about jumped a foot in the air upon seeing his father.
"Oh! Dad! I didn't hear you come in…"
Burt just stood, slight amusement on his face though it was clouded over mostly by the concern of seeing his usually very fashion-oriented son in rumbled pajamas at one in the afternoon, looking thinner, paler, more tired and less caring than ever. "You're boyfriend let me in…" He jerked his head in Blaine's direction, and Kurt blushed. Hearing his dad call Blaine that was an odd mixture of embarrassment and pride. "We gotta go, bud. I told you I'd be here at one. Your advisor and everyone're downstairs to sign you out."
Kurt just froze in place, maybe realizing for the first time that this whole ordeal meant he was actually leaving the campus and that this was actually happening. "C-can I—?" Kurt looked pointedly at Blaine, and his father nodded and sighed.
"I'll be in the hall. Be quick, alright?"
As soon as Burt closed the door behind himself, Kurt turned his eyes slowly towards his boyfriend's, and Blaine could see the fear and devastation present there, along with the rapidly-appearing moisture. "Hey – oh, hey, don't cry," the curly-haired boy tried as soon as he saw Kurt's form beginning to sag. He wrapped his arms around the thin boy and held tight – probably too tight – and sighed into the skin of his neck.
"This is just another part of your life that…you have to pass through. So was everything you've done so far."
Kurt hiccupped a small cry, burying himself into Blaine the best he could standing. His eyes clamped shut.
"Shhh… Hey, Kurt… Listen. This is just another thing you have to do. Everything you've been through… Even…the bullying. The…rape. The attack, Dalton. It's all been just parts of your life. Even if they're scary, you just… Don't be scared, okay…? Look what happened the last time you changed paths and came here…? We got each other out of all this… You'll be okay, and you'll change paths after tomorrow when your treatment starts, but… If the last few months have been anything to go by, changing course could be a good thing…"
The whole time Blaine was speaking, Kurt just breathed loudly and clung to the curly-haired boy for dear life, his edges crumbling as he tried to not break down. "I don't want to lose you."
At this, Blaine slowly pulled away, his arms now on Kurt's biceps, and he stared at him intently, very seriously until they made eye contact. "Listen to me. You are not losing me, okay? I don't care what happens tomorrow – or after your treatment is done – you'll be my Kurt—"
"But what if I'm different—?"
"You'll still be my Kurt."
Kurt just stared at him, his body visibly shaking, his lips trembling and cheeks flushed red. He looked so damn young, and shamelessly scared, like he wasn't even trying to play brave. "I… I love you, Blaine."
Blaine's heart dropped, and he got a sudden whoosh through his body like he was falling on a rollercoaster, his emotions physically hurting as he took in the beautiful boy in front of him, so strong and vulnerable and blessed with the most gorgeous ocean eyes. He really hoped Kurt didn't forget him. "I love you, too, Kurt."
Something about dim lighting and listening to Pink Floyd made him introspective. Blaine let his eyes burn with the smoke that flowed in the room, spiraling in wispy strings as it rose from his cigarette, his eardrums pulsing with the music of his headphones. Justin had asked him to take it out into the hall about three cigarettes ago and he had actively ignored him and his roommate had gone back to sleep.
If Kurt was going to be out of his life for two or so weeks, he was going to let himself be completely emotionally wrecked. That was just the way it was going to be.
And that included being selfish and needy to the point of figuratively enclosing himself in a cocoon.
Blaine sighed deeply, his eyes falling shut very slowly, tears of smoke-irritation leaking from the corners and probably sadness as he thought back on the day he'd last seen his boyfriend, the day they'd said their goodbyes. He hadn't perhaps thought it through hard enough. He knew Kurt would be spending the two weeks getting treatment. He knew that meant he'd be in a somewhat unstable state.
But he didn't exactly realize that he'd be completely out of contact and have no way at all to talk to the love of his life that was getting a potentially-permanent, life-changing, memory-affecting, impactful treatment done that could cause him to possibly lose all recollection of Blaine's existence and their entire interaction and relationship.
He took a drag of his cigarette.
Hey you, standing in the road
Always doing what you're told,
Can you help me?
He'd tried calling Burt, who'd given him his number, but the clinic generally suggested not using cellphones, and the service in the area wasn't great either. He'd called the hospital directly to talk to Kurt's father the day of his first treatment, but had gotten an unsettling bit of information.
"Mr. Hummel! I – uh. Your phone cut out last time we were talking…"
"Sorry…" Blaine heard the man heave a long, shaky sigh. "The service around here isn't great."
There were a few moments of silence and the phone crackled slightly. "So… How's Kurt?" He paused. "Can I… I mean – Could I…talk to him?"
Another sigh. "Listen, Blaine," this didn't sound good, "After Kurt had his treatment this morning, he… He was having some confusion and was…freaking out a little, I guess, and they needed to sedate him—"
"What?" Blaine interrupted him, his face and neck feeling like someone poured ice water down it. He cleared his throat, realizing his rude behavior. "I – um. Is he okay, though? What happened?"
"…He was pretty, uh, disoriented… It's just a safety thing for him, but you probably won't be able to talk to him until the whole thing's done."
He'd tried calling four more times.
He'd gotten the same answer each time, that Kurt was still under, or sedated, or being monitored. Burt sounded more and more worried each time he talked to Blaine on the phone.
He pulled at his curls, his naked shoulders hunching as he physically worried for the boy so far away from him.
Blaine sucked in more smoke, grunting as the cigarette came to an end, and sighing in disappointment as he realized it was the last one in his pack. It was even his second to last pack. He turned up his iPod…
Hey you, out there beyond the wall,
Breaking bottles in the hall,
Can you help me?
"Beyond the wall," he mumbled out loud absently, repeating the lyric. He stood from his bed on autopilot, hearing it creak beneath him and echoing in the dim-lit room, illuminated by the overcast night sky and full moon. The shadows seemed real, etched-on and textured as he ran his hand along the warped wooden surface of his desk as he made his way to the window.
The branches of the freshly-leafed trees were rustling loudly and sharply, the sounds scratching against each other and whipping around in the harsh wind.
"The wall…" He pulled his earphones from his ears, letting his starry eyes reflect the starry skies as he looked out onto the landscape of Dalton in the moonlight. He peered out to the distant gates, surrounding the campus. Keeping him prisoned. Separating him from Kurt.
The gates.
The wall.
"Beyond the wall…" He stood for a few more seconds, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips as his eyes fixed on the wall of Dalton.
"Her tits were kind of weird, though."
Wes widened his eyes at Thad's comment, then narrowed them. "…What?" The dark-haired boy rolled his eyes at the reaction, but Wes continued, expression still disbelieving and argumentative. "Wait, whoa. What do you mean? She had great tits."
Thad blinked for a few moments at the Asian boy, putting his spoon down gently. "You fucked her, too. You know… Not the tits, I guess, but the nipples," he sort of gestured around to his chest with a raised eyebrow, slightly disturbed expression, "Weird."
Wes huffed, shaking his head, seemingly thinking for a few moments before he answered. "…They were just really dark. Not weird… Do you guys think it's weird when a girl has dark nipples?" He asked the group of guys at their breakfast table, suddenly feeling his opinion strange.
Most of the boys just shrugged, but David and Trent clearly shook their heads. "Tits are tits, bro. If a chick has nice tits in general, the nipples don't really make a difference…" Trent spoke around a mouth full of cereal.
Wes nodded quickly in response, then eyed the rest of the table's occupants, seeing them generally indifferent, but Jeff's face tinted pink and his eyes strictly focused on the food he was trying to eat in front of him, hair messy and slept on. "So…" Wes started uncomfortably, blinking and eyeing the blonde intently, his hands twisting in his lap. "Do you have an opinion on the matter…? Or not…?"
Jeff's movement froze and his body tensed, seeing out of the corner of his eye that Wes was addressing him. His eyes flickered around the table, trying to distract himself, finally landing to the hands on the table across from his. Nick's. This was awkward. He kept his eyes down and put down his fork very slowly, flicking his tongue out to wet his lips and run over the piercing there. "Um…"
Thad raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yeah, seriously. So are you gay now, or just…? Because I know you kind of…have a boner for your roommate and everything," Jeff groaned and closed his eyes at the wording, "but…is that just a thing? Or...are you strictly men?"
Jeff sighed in frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "Oh my god. Why are we having this conversation right now?"
Wes looked the other way, sort of feeling ashamed for his topic discussion. "We just wanna know what's going on with you. It's been a while since the big…thing, and you haven't really talked about it," he tried defending himself, but sounded slightly embarrassed still.
"Yeah, I mean – like I said before – sexuality crisis. Big deal. Not gonna say it isn't… But, just because you have a boner for Nick doesn't mean you're gay. You could just be curious or something. Don't want you to freak out over nothing."
The blonde just sighed and raised his eyes to the ceiling, in silent prayer to the god he didn't believe in, speaking hardly above a whisper. "You fucking – you keep saying Ihaveabonerforhim. And he's right fucking here, Thad, what is your problem?" Jeff waved his hands in a slightly flailing gesture to Nick, who was sitting across from him.
Thad quietly scoffed. "Seriously? He knows, we know. It's not top-secret info. And what? You're saying you've never gotten a hard-on thinking about him, then?"
Jeff clamped his eyes shut and let him head fall onto his crossed arms on the table. "Ohmygod."
The other guys at the table laughed, and David nudged the blonde in the ribs with his elbow, laughing softly himself.
Nick frowned, his lips coming together to form a tight line. "Hey, guys, seriously. It's not funny, just quite it." He reached out his hand to pat Jeff's gently, causing the blonde to freeze and his face to burn red. He was glad his cheeks and neck weren't visible as he was buried in his arms.
Nick's brief contact of skin-on-skin felt searing hot. Like it would leave scorching handprints. They hadn't really talked or interacted much since Jeff's confession, but this was almost like some surreal rewind to the past, just casually touching like this. What it would be like if he hadn't said anything at all.
After the hand was gone, Jeff slowly raised his head, glancing at his roommate for the briefest second, catching his reassuring half-smile before drawing his eyes back to his food tray.
"So… Gay? Not gay? Bi-curious? – I didn't really get a final answer on this," Thad prompted, smiling sweetly and tilting his head.
"Oh my god," Jeff flung his arms out on either side of him, one arm hitting David and the other sliding over the table and knocking a fork onto the ground, making the metal clank loudly. "Yes! Yes, I am…strictly men, I…am gay… Fuck."
Everyone just sat in silence for a moment, before Trent broke a smile. "Man. We got…what? Three out of eight? We just attract the gays, don't we?"
The guys giggled, and Jeff just let a soft smile fall on his lips and shook his head in bemusement and disbelief of the boys he was surrounded by daily. Little did Trent know that it wasn't maybe so much that the specific group they were in attracted gay boys, but that they made it so damn easy to come out to. This whole conversation had been proof of that.
"Seriously. That's… That's like more than a quarter gays. I feel like I want to high-five someone," Trent mumbled, and Nick laughed, raising his hand in offer, but not before shooting a quick glance to Jeff, to see it was okay to do. But Jeff was smiling, so he completed the gesture.
Just then, the bell echoed throughout the cafeteria, and just before everyone pushed themselves onto their feet, David held up his hand in a halting movement. "Wait," he said, sounding suddenly serious, and everyone did. "Speaking of…other gays, where's Blaine?"
Kurt was in treatment at the Cleveland Clinic, but his boyfriend was nowhere in sight. And if the way the curly-haired boy had been sulking and a complete wild, crazy, disheveled mess since Kurt's ECT started, his absence was generally concerning.
"His phone's off. Or dead," Nick mumbled a few moments later after attempting contact, putting his cell down, looking between David and Thad, the ones that usually took some kind of charge in these situations, something the dark-haired boy was grateful for because someone needed to.
Thad just blinked, his jaw tensing, and after a few seconds of this, the others at the table slowly focused their attention on him, and the cafeteria started emptying quickly, boys in blazers getting to their classes. These boys had Chemistry. Well, some of them, and there was a lab today.
"Always," Thad breathed finally, breaking the weird, tense, impatient, frantic silence. "It always fucking starts like this. I fucking swear – ugh! Dammit!" He jumped to his feet suddenly, and everyone followed him, a mix between startled and scared. "Nick, Wes – go to his room, the dorm, the lounge, see if he's there. Trent, let's go around campus. You guys, go to Chem. You have shit to do."
Everyone clumsily packed their things and hurried to get going, all feeling suddenly filled with adrenalin and panic. David sighed, helping Jeff tug on his blazer as to get them to class faster. They were going to be late, anyway. "This better not be something like with Kurt last time. And I swear, if this is another Thad-fiasco, I'm gonna be so fucking pissed," the dark-skinned boy muttered as they began parting from the group.
"Heard that, asshole. And for the love of god, everyone keep your damn phones on!"
"It'll be a total of six treatments—"
"Six…?"
The doctor pulled his mouth into a line and flipped through his clipboard. "Yes. It'll be over the duration of the two weeks, so you've been scheduled for a treatment on Monday, Thursday, Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday, and one last one on Saturday. All at 10 a.m."
Kurt pulled his eyebrows together and sighed, not even feeling real anymore. What had his life come to? This whole idea – it seemed surreal. He hated it.
They were left alone after that – Kurt and his father – to discuss things over before he was prepped for the treatment the following morning.
His dad said things like he was proud of him and that he loved him.
Kurt had a hard time caring when it was forced treatment and he was in such a wrong, empty state of mind that he hardly acknowledged the 'love' his father supposedly was feeling towards him.
His dad went to talk to someone, probably Carole, who had apparently left a message for him.
"I have to do this," Kurt whispered out loud to himself, letting his head fall back onto the spongy hospital pillow.
He sighed, and pulled the battery out of his cellphone. That way, they wouldn't be able to trace him.
His bag was packed. His tracks were covered. He was going to see Kurt.
He'd heard once that if people were talked to during a coma, they might remember it. Maybe if he talked to Kurt in his sedated state, he wouldn't forget him.
Kurt's last treatment was the next day, and being there was just something he needed to do. He had enough money to get a cab about three quarters of the way there. The rest he'd figure out later.
He stood by the wall, looking out past the gates that they didn't seem to put much effort into improving, given the number of students that had escaped in the past. He hesitated once more before crouching down to the area that he was about to crawl under. He hesitated, stopped, because this was risky. Getting caught could mean time in juvie, or jail, or—
But, no—
"I have to do this," Blaine decided, his eyelashes fanning against his cheeks and he clamped his eyes shut before exiting Dalton.
"Come on, come on," Wes mumbled under his breath as the phone rang in his ear. He shot a quick glance at Nick, who was just sitting on Blaine's bed, a frown in place as he held a small piece of paper.
"Hello?"
"Thad!" Wes jolted upright, pressing the phone closer to his ear. Nick looked over to watch the interaction, even though he was unable to hear the other side of the conversation.
"Find him?" Thad's voice was serious and he spoke quickly, sounding impatient.
"Yeah – well, not him, but he left a note. We know where he is."
"…"
"Thad?"
"No, yeah, I heard you, I just…" He let out a frustrated sigh and hummed, sounding annoyed. "Just – continue. What does it say?"
"Um—" Wes scurried over to where Nick was still on the bed with the small message and he snatched it from him. "Let's see… 'Went to visit Kurt for his last treatment. You won't be able to get me on my cell, but call me tomorrow at this number and ask for Kurt's room – 216-444-2200. I'll be back sometime soon. Don't be pissed.
-B'"
There was silence in the air after Wes finished reading the note aloud, and if it weren't for the quiet, steady breathing he heard on the other side of the line, along with the very subtle crackling of the connection, he would have been sure Thad hung up. He knew to wait.
"Fine," came the voice of Thad, sounding stilted and tight, but as though he were attempting casualty. "Fine," he repeated, slower this time, resigned, defeated, tired, but still with attitude like a child losing an argument.
"What…?" Wes asked him a moment later, after he was sure nothing else was going to be said.
Thad huffed a breath through the phone, and then almost began speaking, but stopped, huffing again. "He said not to be pissed. And he said to call him tomorrow on that number. So, fine. Fucking – fine. That's what we'll do."
"Thad—"
"Nope. No, B's a big boy. He wants to skip campus to visit his boyfriend? Fine."
"Thad, you—"
"Yeah," Thad spit out, and Wes tensed, even from hearing it over the phone. "Yeah, I did the same fucking thing with Theo. And if it weren't for him dying, I wouldn't have wanted to be dragged back… And I'm sure Blaine doesn't want to, either…" He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was calmer, and softer. "This is something he has to deal with on his own… If he ends up getting fucked for it, well, he made that decision. We can't take this from him."
Wes just blinked, looking to Nick who was staring at him with wide eyes, a mix of curiosity and confusion evident on his features, then drew his eyes to focusing on the wall in front of him, pressing the phone harder onto his ear. "So we're going to do nothing…?"
Thad hummed before answering. "We're going to call him tomorrow. And we're gonna see if Kurt's fucking okay… Because we've all been fucking freaked out about him. And then we'll wait."
Wes nodded quickly, realizing this might've been one of the first times he'd seen Thad resign to a position that wasn't the one in complete control. Instead, he let himself support his friend, riding along the wave and letting the situation play out on its own. He let someone else make their own decision.
"Okay."
"…Hey," Blaine greeted weakly, a timid half-smile on his face as he peeked into the door, scanning the room for anyone present.
He first saw Kurt. In a bed, hooked up to things, medical things, his eyes closed and heavy-looking. He didn't look much different than when Blaine last saw him, but the reminder that he was real, alive, and not just a twisted, surreal thing of Blaine's imagination was a comforting concept to realize. He seemed a little more pink, flushed, not as hollow and pale as he appeared before.
Or maybe Blaine had been building up how sick he looked in his head while the boy was gone.
"Blaine," a gruff voice called, and the curly-haired boy jumped about a foot into the air at the doorway at the call of his name. While focusing on his boyfriend, Blaine had forgotten all about other potential occupants of the room.
"Mr. Hummel!" He gasped, his small attempt of a smile returning to his face. "I… You're probably… You're probably surprised to see me…" Blaine just fixed his gaze on the man, the smile dropping from his face very slowly as he just watched for a reaction.
Burt turned fully in his chair near his son's bed to look at Blaine and his appearance. His curls and clothes were rumpled and messy, and if the empty, tired look in his hazel eyes was any indication, he'd probably gotten little to no sleep.
"I would say yes, but the group of guys that called for this room askin' for you kinda gave it away," Burt raised an eyebrow, and he almost looked…amused.
Blaine blinked, and in a moment of not knowing what to do just sort of glanced around, fixing his gaze on Kurt for a moment before returning it to Burt and stepping forward, wetting his lips with his tongue and wringing his hands together. "They… They, uh, called?"
The older man nodded slowly. "Said you ditched campus to come see Kurt and they wanted to know if you'd made it here yet…" Blaine just stared at him and nodded, not knowing exactly what to do or say. He just kind of adjusted the strap of his backpack on his shoulder, shifting it to a more comfortable position. Burt finally cleared his throat, breaking the tense silence. "What're you doin' here, kid?"
Blaine let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. "I – god. I just – couldn't deal with not knowing if he was okay," he breathed quietly, his voice sounding slightly close to cracking. He looked to Kurt, then, and shook his head. "I… I needed to be here. Just… For when he's done. I need to see if he's alright."
Mr. Hummel blinked at this, thinking before speaking out loud. "You gonna get in big trouble for running out of the school like that?"
Blaine raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised at the question. "I – no, not really. Probation, but… Well, I mean, as long as I get back in a…pretty short amount of time, I'll be fine. I can't miss 10 days, so…" He shrugged, trailing off quietly. "It really depends on when they start looking for me, but guys escape and get brought back all the time and it's usually not too big of a deal…"
Burt looked at him for a long moment, nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer and sighed. "Come here, take a seat," he nodded to the chair beside him and Blaine just stood, not moving. "Kurt's stepmom and brother are coming by soon. They said he should be wearing off from everything in a couple hours. His last treatment was this morning," Blaine nodded to that – he was aware of that fact – and stepped quietly to take the offered seat, "and so I guess we're gonna see how everything turned out soon, then."
Blaine just stared at the gorgeous boy in a sterile bed with standard, hospital-issued clothes and couldn't help but feel his chest grow heavy with emotion. "Have you seen if it's made any difference yet?" He asked quietly, not taking his eyes away.
Burt seemed thoughtful before answering. "A lot of the time between his treatments, he's been sedated. And other than that, he's just been pretty confused and doesn't do much other than eat and drink. Would talk to me a little bit, but nothing more than a few words here and there." Blaine visibly sunk at this information and his hands moved on autopilot, one coming to grab the pale, limp one resting lightly on the bed that belonged to his boyfriend, and the other rising to skin absently over his chest, where a tattoo lived secretly beneath the material of his clothes. "But he didn't seem sad," Burt added with a shrug, and Blaine's breath caught at this, and yeah, it wasn't the best thing he could have heard, but it still gave him hope. Without hope, what the hell did he have anymore?
"Blaine. Blaine, wake up, Kurt's waking up!"
The curly-haired boy shot up to his feet at Finn's voice, almost falling over as he was hardly awake. His eyes focused in on the bed, and there Kurt was, sitting up, eyes open, looking around at those around him.
"Hey everyone," Kurt breathed, his smile taking over his face in a way that made Blaine stand still where he was. Something was off. "This is so great that you guys are all here."
Blaine just kept his feet rooted where he was, off to the side slightly as Kurt's family interacted with him, spoke to him, smiled at him. It was surreal. In fact, Blaine was having a difficult time believing it was real at all.
He watched with big eyes as his boyfriend finally caught sight of Blaine who was still standing near the doorway, near the chairs set up at the side of the room, and Kurt looked up at him, his wide smile faltering. "Hey…" Blaine said gently, tilting his head to catch the pale boy's gaze.
Kurt stared at him for a few moments, and opened his mouth as though to respond, then blinked, just letting his lips hang open. He sent a quick, almost nervous, glance towards his father, who was watching the two carefully, then back to Blaine. "Who…? Are… Um. Are you here for me?" When Blaine's mouth just opened, Kurt looked to his dad again, confusion evident on his face.
Burt knelt down by his son's bed, looking over to the devastated curly-haired boy in the corner of the room. "Hey, come on, kid. You remember Blaine…"
Kurt looked from his father back up to where the other teen was standing and his eyebrows furrowed together. He was scanning his appearance and face, taking in and attempting to connect his looks and name with memories. "I… What's your last name?"
"Anderson," Blaine choked out in a quiet, breathy rush, his voice cracking on the last syllable. He stumbled a few steps towards Kurt, hoping that in better lighting, maybe he'd suddenly remember him, remember everything.
Kurt just blinked as he took the curly-haired boy in, and then, feeling mostly awkward, just shrugged and instead caught the gaze of the other occupants of the room, leaving Blaine in a whirlwind of emotion. He felt like he was sinking. This wasn't happening. He was shaking.
"No, Kurt. Kurt, wait. You… We're…dating. You – you have to remember me. We met at Dalton? We…" He fumbled forward again, making to reach out to touch his boyfriend, in some way of comfort, in some way of igniting his memory, but the look and flinch of the pale boy as Blaine approached made him recoil. "Don't you…?"
Kurt raised an eyebrow in surprise and confusion, then blinked and looked away, not letting them make eye contact. "I… I'm sorry. But…I don't remember you. I… Please leave."
Blaine was being sucked through the door and out of the clinic area by some invisible force, and he couldn't push against it. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get back to Kurt. If he just had a few more minutes to remind him, he had to remember. He had to.
He jolted awake, hearing his fast breathing, harsh and scratchy to his own ears. Rain was beating against the window in the room, across from where he was sitting in his chair, the color of the sky and room dampened and muted in the overcast weather. He blinked about 20 times in a row, trying to clear his head and the tears that felt too hot to be in his eyes, finally scanning the room when he was calmed down.
He saw Finn, sitting in a chair a few places next to him, seemingly texting on his phone, but also shooting the occasional glance out of the corner of his eye in Blaine's direction, noticing his behavior and rapid breath. "You okay, dude?"
He nodded absently, and looked toward the occupied bed in the room, and he was there, still asleep, though his position had changed. Blaine just stared blankly at the boy there, breathing slowly as he came down from his nightmare. "He, um… He hasn't woken up, yet?"
Finn glanced to Kurt, then back to Blaine and put his phone down, shaking his head. "No… Well… The nurse came in and sort of woke him up. They have to…check his…consciousness levels…or something. But he didn't really see any of us or look around, he just went back to sleep… But that's fine," he added at Blaine's expression, "he's still really tired from the…thing this morning."
"From…? From his treatment, you mean."
"Yeah."
Blaine nodded jerkily, licking his lips in thought. "Oh," was all he said, wishing that he'd been awake for that, even if it wasn't really a big deal.
A low rumble of thunder rolled and sounded through the sky, and Blaine could practically feel it and it moved through the building, and it made his bones shake. The weather had been sunny when he was last awake… A storm must've decided to come present itself.
Burt and Carole walked into the room, then, the latter holding a cup of coffee, the logo on the cup indicating she had gotten it down in the cafeteria. She greeted Blaine lightly but warmly, the same way she had when they'd first seen each other earlier that day. He wondered what his life would have been like if he had a mother than was so unconditionally caring. If he would have turned out any differently.
Burt caught sight of Blaine and narrowed his eyes at his somewhat disheveled state, his shoulders and hands still giving off remaining shakes from the dream that had so unpleasantly interrupted his nap.
"Hey, Blaine. Why don't you come down to the cafeteria with me? I was just gonna go grab a coffee and sit down and have a bite to eat."
The curly-haired boy glanced up to Burt at his words, seeing the man looking sincere as he held his hands in his pockets, nodding his head in the direction of the doorway. "Yeah. Sure…" Blaine stumbled to his feet, one of them deciding to fall asleep, and grabbed a hoodie from his backpack, slipping it over his head quickly.
"Finn?" Burt asked the tall teen, though mostly to be polite, because he knew his stepson had just eaten.
"Nah, I'm good."
"Alright. Come on, kid," he gestured to Blaine, and the two made their way out of the patient room area and down through the clinic.
S Building, Blaine had found out when he first entered the clinic, was the Neurological Institute. And it connected to the main entrance of the hospital, so it wasn't too far from the cafeteria and general guest services. It was terrifying though, he realized, seeing so many patients walking around that seemed unstable and mentally unaware. The fact that Kurt was in his area of the clinic and could practically be one of these people when he woke up scared him more than he was comfortable with.
Burt placed two cups of coffee and two trays that contained sandwiches and fries down, the sound of them hitting the table breaking Blaine out of his thoughts.
"Thanks," he murmured quietly, reaching out to grab the coffee, but not actually taking a sip, instead playing with the cup's sleeve absentmindedly, his eyes drifting somewhere else.
Burt just leaned back in his chair slightly, watching the curly-haired boy as he just sat there, still not eating or drinking. His eyes looked tired, and he seemed troubled.
"This's gotten ya real worried, huh?"
Blaine seemed surprised at the question, and the movement of his hand on the coffee cup ceased. "Of course it has…" He said, then leaned more forward towards the table, looking the man in the eyes. "Kurt is my life… My life, and if he were to forget me…?" He shook his head wearily at the thought. "I actually just…had a dream that he woke up and…he had no idea who I was," he confessed quietly, almost to himself.
Burt nodded slowly at this, tilting his head, watching as Blaine's face hardened and he sat up straighter.
"I don't know why you're surprised that I'm worried about this. You're the one who – who has practically abandoned him since he got arrested…" Blaine snapped, then blinked, breathing slowly to cool down from his outburst slightly, but keeping the intensity in his eyes. "Mr. Hummel, if I'm being honest… I really… I really don't like the way you've been treating your son this last year. He's been struggling so much…and you… You popped into his life suddenly. I… I don't get it," Blaine said finally, shrugging slightly, "Do you care about him or not?"
Kurt's father sighed, and he looked at Blaine for a long time, just really looked at him for a while. "How much do you know about Kurt's condition?"
Blaine's eyebrows knitted together, and he blinked a few times. "I don't know. I know he has depression. And I've been there during all his…medication changes."
The man nodded very slowly. "Did you know he's attempted to take his life before?"
Blaine just stared back at him. He'd heard things from Kurt that suggested things. He'd made guesses from the boy's behavior. But did he know? "No…"
Burt pulled his mouth into a tight line. "Yeah, well… He has. Officially twice, but there have been other…instances." Blaine just stared, not responding in any way. "The first time anything really…happened was when he was eight. His mother had just passed," Burt looked to Blaine, confirming that the curly-haired boy knew this, to which he nodded, "And I need to start first by sayin' that the whole time his mom was goin' through treatment, it was like Kurt was getting just as weak as she was. Now, when she finally died, Kurt would just…stop sometimes. Just stop participating, living, however you want to think of it. We were walking one day and Kurt did his thing where he stopped. And he just looked out to the street and took a step out into traffic."
Blaine inhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes widening at the information and his mouth falling open just the slightest amount.
"I pulled him back. And I took him to talk to somebody, but they just said it was probably because of all the stuff going on with his mom. And that he'd probably get over it soon… And for the most part, he did get over it. Another few things like the day we went walking happened again… but in general, he got better, and he didn't really try anything for a while."
The curly-haired boy across from Burt brought his coffee cup to his lips, taking a deep sip and sighing at the caffeine. "He did recently, though," Blaine said, more of a statement than a question. "Since the… Well," he shrugged, not wanting to say it out loud to Kurt's father.
"The rape… Yeah… He – he obviously got… a lot worse after that happened. And when we took him to talk to somebody this time, we realized he'd been…not exactly happy for a while. Probably since his mom. But when we took him to see someone, they said he had somethin' called psychotic depression. It's like normal depression, but…well…worse and he couldn't get out of it. It was probably there for a while, but the attack obviously made it more obvious. They started him on some meds…"
"Is that when he…tried to…" Blaine blinked and cleared his throat, trying to think of what to say. "It's just… He told me things got pretty bad after he first got on medication."
Burt nodded again. "They couldn't really find anything that worked too well for him. We went through different doses every month or so, trying to find somethin' that worked. And yeah… Yeah, it was during those times that he…" Burt trailed off, sighing, looking not at Blaine, but to the wall behind him, his eyes unfocused. "The first time was with pills. My wife and I came home and he was…" the man took a deep breath, seemingly struggling with telling the story, "He was lyin' there, in his bathroom. He had been having a real hard time sleepin', so he had been prescribed sleeping pills, but he took all of them…"
Blaine was speechless. He just took both of his hands and folded them in his lap, staring down at the small lines and faint wrinkles that covered them, trying not to picture Kurt, Kurt, in a way that his father was describing.
"The next time… Well, it was something like what you had to deal with. He tried to cut himself and…it was pretty close that time… Closer than what happened when he was with you."
"But, no – Kurt said… This last time, it was an accident. He wasn't trying to kill himself, he was just cutting and—"
"Blaine… Kurt told me each time that he hadn't been trying to kill himself. It's the way he is with things… And after the second time, we found him a medication that…seemed to work. At least temporarily. It didn't make him any worse, at least… Then, well, everything went down and he got arrested," he nodded to Blaine, knowing that he knew the story behind that, and then licked his lips, "But right before he was sent to Dalton, they had him go through another mental evaluation and they figured he had PTSD symptoms still from the rape—"
"Yeah," the curly-haired boy interrupted slightly, nodding, and Burt raised an eyebrow at him. "I mean – I just mean that Thad – his roommate – saw it. He saw the evaluation with PTSD…"
Burt nodded. "Since then, because his medication wasn't workin' perfectly, they started him on some doses that would help with that, too. Things for his anxiety and sleeping… But… That's where we are now. None of those seemed to work too much."
Blaine just looked at the man, who wasn't responding with eye contact. "And… And that's why you don't…didn't…see him? Talk to him…?" The curly-haired boy asked, trying to find the connection between all the information Kurt's father had just shared and the original topic of discussion.
Burt shrugged. "If you've noticed with him… Kurt has a really hard time focusing on himself. He doesn't…talk about what's wrong with other people because he doesn't want anyone to worry. Instead, he'll just go off and…well, cut himself, harm himself… After his rape, Kurt wouldn't do a single thing for himself because he wouldn't stop doing things for other people."
Blaine suddenly thought back to when he first met Kurt… How he spent time trying to help other people and even him. He spent weeks with Blaine during his heroin withdrawal, and recently, he'd been helping Jeff deal with his problems with Nick and his sexuality…
"I backed off from Kurt so that he wouldn't have any other distractions from himself… Because even with all the therapy and medication… He needed to heal himself to be okay again… That, and…the more I started distancing myself from him, I realized how hard it was to be around him again."
The teen narrowed his eyes, suddenly feeling second-handedly offended. "He's your son."
"Yes. He's my son. My son that I failed to protect and couldn't even make happy in his time of need… It was my way of trying to help him…while also…"
"Being fucking selfish?" Blaine offered bitterly, but still also sadly.
Burt looked at him a second before nodding. "While also being…fucking selfish…"
The two men looked at each other for a long moment before picking up their sandwiches and beginning to eat slowly and thoughtfully. Their coffee was still warm enough to heat up their bodies on the blustery day.
When they returned to Kurt's room, he was partially sitting up and awake, and Finn and Carole were on either side of him, speaking quietly with gentle smiles as the pale boy himself still seemed mostly dazed.
Blaine's breath left his body at the sight.
"Hey, kiddo, how're you feeling?" Burt smiled next to him and immediately approached his son, to which Kurt smiled weakly in return, still appearing slightly confused.
Blaine realized that Kurt's family had seen glimpses of him awake and talking, but for him, this was the first time he'd seen his boyfriend's blue eyes in the past two weeks.
"I'm…okay. I'm a little…" Kurt trailed off with a small smile, shrugging and making a vague, messy gesture. It was generally understood. "I… I kind of forgot why I was here when I first woke up…" He giggled, then stopped immediately once he caught sight of Blaine near the doorway.
"…Kurt," Blaine breathed, before he could stop himself, his body moving on instinct and walking near him and leaning closer to the pale boy, his eyes scared for a reaction.
"I… Uh… Hi," Kurt finally greeted, sounding surprised and breathless. "I… God, this is all…really confusing. I don't really remember what's been going on…"
Blaine licked his lips, not quite sure what that meant in terms of his presence. Did he remember Blaine, or not…? That response wasn't very conclusive…
"Oh, sweetheart, don't worry. You've been sedated and receiving treatments that can have that effect… Just relax and don't stress," Carole assured him, patting him gently on the arm in a way that was very motherly. "Now, I'm sure they're gonna want to do some sort of check on you, now that you're completely awake."
Carole called in a couple of nurses and suggested that the four visitors in the room give Kurt some time to breathe and relax.
And that's how Blaine was shooed from the room until the following morning, the doctor and Kurt's parents insisting they wait until Kurt is calm and coherent enough to not have another panic attack, as he apparently had during the beginning of his treatments. He instead found himself wandering the clinic campus with Finn and his girlfriend who had come to see him at some point, Rachel, but mostly not speaking to either of them. The dark-haired girl did ask him a few accusative questions and seemingly attempted to dig up dirt on his intensions with Kurt, but Blaine tried to mostly keep to himself.
They took a series of naps in different locations, some in the waiting room and a few resting their heads on the tables of the cafeteria. They had all woken up several times at odd hours of the night, silently worrying about Kurt, and Blaine was struck with surprise at how much Finn and Rachel seemed to care about him at all, given the situation of the past year or so.
It was 5 a.m. and they had all roused randomly, realizing they were sitting on chairs near the small café, and decided to get coffee. It was then that the curly-haired boy decided to not keep his mouth closed anymore, his sleep deprivation and delirium probably causing him to be honest enough to ask the questions that had been buzzing in his head all evening. Maybe it was influenced by Kurt's vulnerable state, or maybe he was just somewhat on a role of accusing people of their bad treatment towards his boyfriend.
"Why are you guys here?" Was how the question came out, or perhaps more accurately, how the question was mumbled. They were all in the corner of the simple coffee shop area, around a decidedly too-small round table, each of them attempting to claim space on it to rest their elbows.
Rachel perked up at Blaine's voice immediately, her face looked shocked and offended, albeit very tired. "Kurt's having really serious treatment, Blaine. Why wouldn't we be here?"
He blinked a few times, almost unsure that she had just said those words. He also offhandedly noticed she liked using him name in sentences a lot, even though they'd just really met. "Because you've all pretty much…ditched him. I know you guys have kind of…" He made a gesture with his hand, trying to word his statement, "rekindled your old friendship, but don't you kind of feel like you're lying? I-it's not that I don't think it's great that you're here for him. Really. I love that he has support and everything… I guess it's just… Do you really still care about him? Or do you feel like you're supposed to?"
Rachel and Finn exchanged glances, and Blaine could tell their answer just from the way their eyes spoke. It was Finn who turned to Blaine this time, and the curly-haired boy took a sip of his coffee.
"Kurt's my brother… He's always going to be that. And he's also always going to be someone who was our best friend, you know? It's, like, different than that, though… It's like… You know when a distant family member has a baby and even though you don't really know them, you go and visit anyway?"
Blaine nodded, seeing where this was going.
"Kurt's like our family. He is my family, but I mean for all of the old Glee club and his old friends from McKinley. It's like we have this permanent connection to him, so even if we haven't been around him lately, we still care. It's just how it is…"
The curly-haired boy thought about it for a moment and blinked, then nodded very slowly. He might not have a connection like that with his real family, but Blaine knew what they meant. He was that way with his best friends at Dalton. With Kurt. They all were like family…
He finished off his coffee and rested his head soundly on the table… And even the caffeine wasn't enough to keep him from slipping away into a light dream. When he woke up an hour and some minutes later to Rachel telling him they could finally go visit Kurt, he was still partially in his subconscious and had to shake his head a couple times to get his mind clear. He ran a hand through his curls and stood up to walk with them, trying to think of what he had been dreaming of. He couldn't quite remember, but he knew there was something with wings.
The three teens dragged themselves into Kurt's room, feeling all too familiar with the grounds of the hospital by that point. Though the sight they saw when they reached the doorway was well worth the struggling, tiresome night.
Kurt was sitting straight up in his bed, his father on a chair next to him, and the pale boy was talking animatedly, his hands gesturing here and there and his face broken out in a wide grin. Teeth-showing and all.
"Kurt!" Rachel gasped, bouncing towards him and giving him a hug, followed quickly, though perhaps less enthusiastically, by Finn. He smiled painfully wide, his eyes crinkling at the corners and returned their hugs, and was about to say something in return when he caught sight of the curly-haired boy slightly behind the view of the other occupants of the room, his smile fading from his face with rapid speed, instead turning into an expression that spoke different kinds of longing and desperation.
"Oh… Oh, Blaine," Kurt shot up, attempting to get out of bed, but restrained by the IV in his arm and the blankets covering him. He almost whimpered at the limitation. "Blaine, come here," he breathed out desperately, still attempting some kind of standing even in his condition, settling on a half-stance on the edge of his bed.
Blaine didn't know how quickly he moved and he didn't remember the journey from the doorway to Kurt's bedside, but the next thing he knew, he was enclosed in a pair of pale, soft arms, a scent of Kurt almost too overpowering, his eyes feeling hot and his face feeling the pressure of crying.
Kurt pressed a soft kiss to the side of Blaine's unshaven face, where his jaw met his cheek, and the feel of his lips against his skin was enough for the curly-haired boy to let out a quiet, shaky sob.
He didn't – he couldn't – believe this was happening. Kurt was holding him, remembering him. He was in a state of shock, in a world of a daze.
"Oh, Blaine. B-before, when I saw you – I was so out of it, I…"
"Y-you remember who I am…?" Blaine asked roughly, having to know, to know, and hear it himself.
At this, Kurt pulled away slightly, still keeping his boyfriend close enough to feel the warmth, and Blaine could see there were tears in his eyes, too. And his eyes, so beautiful and changing and the most confusing, complicated shades of sea and sky. Like a storm-turned ocean. The pale boy licked his lips once and brought a delicate hand up to cup the curly-haired boy's face, sliding his thumb over a tear that had escaped. "Oh, honey…"
They shared a very quick kiss, then, because they had to, but didn't let it linger because, yes, there were people in the room. They kept embracing for a little while, but when Blaine lowered Kurt back into his bed and sat down on the chair beside him, he rested his chin on his palm and smiled. Because he didn't give a fuck that he'd had to keep the kiss short, or that he'd have to leave to return to Dalton soon, because it didn't even matter as long as Kurt remembered him.
"What's the last thing you remember?" Blaine asked Kurt idly in a whisper a few hours later, watching his eyes carefully as he let his finger drag patterns along his boyfriend's porcelain hand.
The pale boy's eyes wandered and he let out a soft hum in thought. He tensed then, his lips coming to a line and his cheeks flushing deeply. He shot a quick glance to the occupied chairs in the room, filled by a sleeping Finn and Rachel, then leaned closer to Blaine, his voice coming out in a soft murmur. "Well… You were right about me remembering the last time we…" He trailed of and smiled a bit, his face timid and bashful. "At least… I think it was the last time…"
"It was…" Blaine scanned his blushing boyfriend and grinned devilishly at the sight, drinking it in. "Is that… Is that the last thing you remember?"
Kurt shook his head slowly. "No… I… I think I remember the day I left. Or… I… Something about Trent eating everyone's carrots…" He stared at Blaine for a moment with a small smile and raised eyebrow. "Did that really happen or did I dream that?"
Blaine let out an airy laugh. "No, no – it really happened…" His face got a little more serious. "That was the day before you left… Do you remember anything else? Anything from the past couple weeks…?"
The pale boy seemed to really be thinking hard about it as he let his tongue flick out to wet his lips, an act that Blaine's eyes were immediately drawn to. "I remember bits and pieces of things… I remember…part of the car ride… I was talking to my dad… And I remember a couple times being in the room they did the treatment. I can't really tell if it was one or more times that I remember, though."
Blaine nodded, then tilted his head, his brows furrowing in curiosity. "Do you…remember what they did for the treatment? I mean, you were knocked out for that, right?"
Kurt nodded quickly. "Yes, of course," he assured quickly, then blinked. "I just… I remember them strapping me onto the table and they…put little things on my…forehead. And then they put a little cuff around my ankle so they can see when I'm having a seizure or something…"
"Wait, what?" Blaine looked startled at this information, and Kurt quickly attempted to explain it more accurately.
"It's just… They can tell when I'm under anesthesia that it's working if my toe starts…kind of twitching… It means it's working… I don't know, that's what they told me. I don't remember it, though."
Blaine nodded slowly, looking at him intently as the pale boy still seemed to thinking. "How's… I mean, do you forget anything? Just because they…talked about memory loss…"
Kurt shrugged. "I can't really tell. There's a few things…" He sighed, and thought for a moment before responding, his words coming out slowly and carefully. "It's like… I know things…but I can't remember how I know them… You know? Like when you know the meaning of a word, but you can't remember what the actual word is. I think I hold the information that I get out of memories or situations, but I can't remember certain times or events…"
The curly-haired boy sighed at this, nodding his head understandingly and squeezing his boyfriend's hand gently. "But… Kurt." The pale boy looked to him. "Are you… Are you happier?"
Kurt was about to respond, opening his mouth to do so, but a small laugh, a giggle, came out instead and he shook his head in slight disbelief. "Blaine… It's… It's so weird. I know I must be, because I remember how horrible I felt all the time. Now, I don't feel anything. And not in the bad way, like when I was…emotionless. It's like, I just feel normal, and that must mean I'm happier, because before, I could feel the depression hanging over me all the time… But now that I'm like this, I can't even really remember what it felt like to be that way…"
The two teens smiled at each other and made eye contact, and Blaine placed his other hand where his first was, both cupping his boyfriend's pale one and just enjoying the moment.
They stayed like that for a while until a nurse came in, along with Kurt's parents, to begin his discharge. Finn and Rachel woke up and things were starting to move in the direction of Kurt and Blaine heading back to Dalton.
The nurse placed the clothes Kurt was originally wearing when he entered the hospital on the table beside his bed, along with a few other items. She held up two small plastic bags, addressing Kurt as she showed them to him.
"We also have the jewelry we took out before you started treatment," she told him, and he nodded, looking at the small bags. "We separated both the piercing we removed from your navel, as well as the one from your tongue and have placed them in separate bags, and they are labeled accordingly."
Kurt mumbled a thanks and smiled slightly as the woman left the room.
"Tongue?" Rachel's voice shrieked, her eyes big and concerned. "Kurt! Your voice can be greatly affected by having your—"
"Excuse me, Rachel," Burt cut in as he walked closer to the bed, his voice disbelieving, "Listen, Kurt, now I hope you didn't go get this pierced somewhere unsanitary, because kid, those things can get infected… Carole?" He turned to his wife, looking for support on the topic.
The woman raised an eyebrow. "You did…go somewhere to get it pierced? This didn't happen while you were…in jail? Or at Dalton?"
"Oh, no, no," Blaine cut in, trying really hard to not smile, "we had it done at a parlor. The lady who did it was really good… Right, Kurt?" he nodded, looking to Kurt for confirmation, seeing him having as hard of a time as he was not grinning.
"….Kurt?" Burt urged, folding his arms across his chest and waiting for a response from his son.
Instead of getting words, he got a hysterical burst of laughter, followed by a series of small, uncontrollable giggles. Kurt gasped and snorted as he tried to hold back his reaction to his friend's and family's faces. "Y-y-yeah," he breathed, hardly, still laughing, "yeah, it was – it was clean and everything," another burst of laughter. "Y-you should see your f-faces right no-ow!"
After a short moment, everyone in the room let out long, hard fits of giggles, not even attempting to control themselves.
It was then, at 9:40 a.m., in the recovery room of the Neurological Institute that a moment passed as a boy hurt with laughter at his loved one's reactions to his face piercing.
And Blaine Anderson looked to this boy, seeing him lightly flow with laughter and life. The same life that had so recently crushed him beneath its weight.
It was then that Blaine Anderson realized that Kurt Hummel was going to be okay.
A/N so here I'm gonna piss you all off with another note.
Just wanted to say that a lot of this was based on personal experience, and I know everyone has different results, but mine were particularly effective and positive, so I decided to write it that way. It's obviously tweaked for the situation of the story, but...well... it's still a story, remember?
Love to all ~