The Warblers sat outside the emergency room. The doctor had come and gone, but none of the Warblers moved.

Wes was in a coma.

The doctors had hope that he would wake up, sure, but the realism of it, the weight of wondering whether Wes would survive aged all of them. Most of the boys had never seen anyone in a coma before. Trent's grandfather had been in one, but he died, and the story wasn't exactly comforting. Kurt had the story of his Dad's coma, how the doctors didn't think he would wake up for a while there, and he did. Kurt must have repeated it for the Warbler's a dozen times. Even when his voice started getting hoarse, his throat screaming for water, Kurt didn't stop talking. He liked the hope the story put into the Warbler's faces.

It was his fault this was happening anyway. He boys chalked up the many things that went wrong on Wes' way to the hospital. How, for the first time in Dalton history, no phones in the Dalton cafeteria would work. Blaine had to run outside to make the emergency call. How a rival group had come just that afternoon and slashed half the tires in the parking lot. How none of the boys could find their epipens, including Blaine.

Kurt closed his eyes in cold horror when David asked Blaine where his epipen was and Blaine replied frantically that he couldn't find it. When Kurt realized that it could just as easily be Blaine lying on that floor, dying for lack of air. It was terrifying enough when it was Wes. Sweet, caring, adorably pompous Wes, who'd never hurt another human being in his life. Kurt remembered that moment when, in a fit of rock induced anger, Jeff had slapped Nick across the face. Kurt had never seen Wes so angry, "A true gentleman can never condone such a flimsy excuse for… violence."

Kurt's phone was silent beside him, and for the first time since this whole nightmare started, he wanted it to ring. He wanted to kill Karofsky for this, wanted to pick up that phone and call him back and demand that he tell him why Wes had to suffer when he hadn't even done anything.

Kurt was distracted when Blaine walked in and collapsed.

Luckily, David was right behind him, and managed to catch Blaine before he hit the ground. The Warbler's rushed up in unison.

"Is he okay?"

"Blaine, c'mon man, not you, too."

"Blaine!" Kurt said. He hit his knees in front of the other boy, grabbed his shoulders and began shaking. "Blaine, are you okay? Please be okay, please, Blaine! Blaine!"

"I think he's just exhausted," David said. "He's been running around like a maniac for hours."

"Blaine!" Kurt said.

Blaine gasped and rushed forward, burying Kurt in a hug and his face in Kurt's collar. "This is all my fault!"

"No, Blaine, no," Kurt said. His hand began rubbing circles into Blaine's back unconsciously, rubbing back and forth, back and forth.

"Yes, it is. I can't believe I was so stupid. I can't believe I - "

"What did you do?" David said.

Blaine sobbed, struggling to breathe, "I gave Wes the pudding. It was supposed to be mine, but Wes asked if he could have some and… you know how Wes is about sharing food so I said, "Here, have the first bite," and…. I didn't know, I swear! There weren't supposed to be peanuts in there, I'm allergic to peanuts, too! What have I done?"

Kurt was lucky he was already on his knees.

It was supposed to be Blaine. Karofsky meant it to be Blaine in that coma. Wes was just as well, still a punishment, but if it had been Blaine… Kurt held Blaine tighter. Blaine was beginning to get hysterical, and some of the nurses were looking at them as though battling whether to send him to a doctor. "Why don't you take Blaine outside; let him calm down?" David said. Kurt nodded, and walked Blaine out the door. The other Warbler's went back to their seats.

"He and David are my best friends. Wes and I first met because Jeff brought a bag of Reese's Pieces and neither of us could have any. It was the first week after I got to Dalton, I'd barely had time to audition for the Warbler's and I didn't know anyone. Jeff felt so bad about it, but I was too thrilled to finally have a friend to notice. And now I almost killed him!" Blaine began sobbing again as Kurt sat him down in a gazebo on the hospital grounds. Most of it was enclosed; Karofsky would practically have to stand outside of a door or window to see them.

"Blaine, look at me! You aren't responsible for any of this. You didn't know this would happen. You are the most loving, compassionate, amazing person I have ever met, and I need you to - "

Kurt was interrupted by Blaine's lips on his.

It was very warm, and wet, and soft. Blaine's face was still wet and the inside of Kurt's mouth exploded with salt and coffee and he tasted like strawberries… Kurt moaned into the kiss, and hesitantly pushed his fingers into the back of Blaine's neck, upwards into the curls Blaine sometimes forgot to gel at the base. He put his other hand on Blaine's hip, squeezing gently and pulling him closer. Blaine whimpered happily and wrapped his arms around Kurt's shoulders, squeezing in a gentle hug. Kissing Blaine felt amazing, like he'd been waiting for this forever. It was nothing like Brittany's bold carelessness, or the crushing pressure of Karofsky.

Karofsky…

"You're so strong," Blaine said, "I feel so safe when I'm with you, Kurt. Like you'll protect me from everything."

Kurt looked into Blaine's perfect, beautiful, vulnerable hazel eyes. Kurt felt his face hardened into a dark sneer, preparation for what he had to do. He had to protect Blaine.

"What the hell was that?"

Blaine's quiet gasp sliced through his heart, "What?"

"What, you thought you could just kiss me like that? You didn't even ask me, what if I'd said no?"

"But I thought…"

"You thought what?" Kurt said. Blaine was crying again, silent tears that he tried to hold back. Kurt hated himself. "You thought I belonged to you, like your fancy car and your precious school? Blaine, you are such an arrogant jerk! What, you thought you could just take what you wanted?"

"I'm sorry," Blaine said, "I'm sorry, Kurt, please…"

"How dare you kiss me like this, when you know I'm vulnerable? How dare you take advantage of me? You're just like him, Blaine! Just like Karofsky! I hate you! I hate you!" Kurt ran away from the gazebo. Thank heavens he'd never missed a drama club meeting. He could hear Blaine behind him, the boy's broken sobs echoing his own breaking heart.

Kurt's phone began ringing. Kurt answered it with only a passing glance at the screen. "Please don't hurt him, please don't hurt him!"

"Good boy."

The call ended and Kurt collapsed to his knees, sobbing his heart out into the grass. Blaine was safe. Blaine was safe, and that was all that mattered. But heavens...

When was this going to end?