I'm back (: Sorry that took such a long time. Enjoy!

When he woke up, Blaine's eyes were practically sewn shut together.

The night was long. After Blaine had a breakdown right in front of his mom, she tried her absolute best to try and alm him down before he stopped breathing completely. When Blaine could speak, he told his mother about everything that happened back at Kurt's house.

"He's dying, mom," Blaine chocked, "He's...going to die."

The last thing Blaine remembered was his mother trying her best to get him out of the car and into the house. Blaine didn't change out of his clothes or showered or anything. His mother's words of comfort and wisdom didn't seem to make any sense, and with a few more hours of nearly crying his eyes out, Blaine blacked out on the carpet in front of his bed. He'd never cried this much in his entire life, not even when his dad left him for another woman a few years after telling him he was gay. To be honest, Blaine didn't even cry that much. Sure, a few tears were shed, but this was Kurt. Kurt was dying... something an eighteen year old boy shouldn't be doing.

Blaine woke up in the afternoon, curled up into a tiny ball on the carpet, his eyes swollen and red and his clothes crumpled. He wanted to believe that this was all a dream. But he remembered every small detail that happened. Usually when you dream, you don't remeber the beggining, the end. Just the middle of the events that were happeneing, and then you wake up and the dream seems so blurry and vague. But Blaine's memories were fresh and clear. He wanted to damn them all to hell. He didn't even want to think of Kurt lying motionless on an uncomfortable hospital bed, bright lights above him blinding those perfect blue eyes, pain coursing through his veins...

He couldn't take it anymore. He auddenly got up off the floor and ran to his bathroom, violently heaving into the toilet at the thought of these terrible things that might happen to his Kurt. After Blaine got sick, he propped his back against the bathroom wall, the tears stinging in his eyes again and falling to the porcelain tiles.

At around 8:00 pm, there was a knock on Blaine's door. Blaine didn't say anything when he heard the third knock.

"Blaine?" came a soft voice from outside the wooden door. Blaine didn't reply.

The door opened a tiny bit, allowing a sliver of light from the hallway inside the dark room. It was Blaine's mother.

"Blaine, sweetie, I called your friends."

"I don't want to see them," Blaine said, his voice hoarse.

"Please, Blaine," his mother continued, "I realize that this is very difficult for you, but please...it's not healthy to stay in there by yourself. Talk to them, it might make you feel better."

Nothing will make me feel better, Blaine cursed inside his head. But when he didn't say anything, his friends Nick, David, Jeff and Wes poure into the room one by one, slowly.

"Hey, dude," Nick said calmly, walking over to Blaine's bed and sitting down on the edge.

"What are you guys doing here?" Blaine grumbled. "Don't you have something better to do than nurse my ass back to health?"

"Your mom told us what happened," Jeff explained, "We came over as soon as we could."

"We're so sorry about this, Blaine," David said, walking over to the oppsoite side of the bed. "I don't even...I can't imagine what you're going through."

"Yeah, you have no idea," Blaine huffed.

Wes's mouth pressed into a straight line. "Don't be like that, Blaine. We came over here for you."

"Sorry," Blaine apologized with no emotion tinted in his voice.

It was silent for a few moments, and We was about to open his mouth to say something when Blaine sat up with new tears in his eyes.

"I don't know what to do," Blaine cried, "He's dying, guys...I don't have a clue what to do."

The boys looked at their friend sympathetically. Jeff reached out and lay a hand on Blaine's trembling shoulder.

"My aunt had cancer," Wes suddenly said out of the blue. Everyone except Blaine looked up to stare at him. The word cancer seemed to have such a nasty, poisonous sting to it, but Blaine listened.

Wes continued. "When I was seven. She was the family member that I did everything with. And when she wasn't there one day...after she died, I mean...it killed me. The one regret that I ever had before she died was that I didn't spend enough time with her."

Blaine looked up then.

"When I found out that she was sick, I began to shy away from her. I treated her like she had bones made out of glass when all she really wanted was to live what little life she had left to the fullest. And I was afraid and hopeless, so I never gave her any of that."

Wes paused for a minute before continuing. "Kurt's a strong guy, Blaine. He might not look like it, but he is. How do you think he gets through all that torture everyday?"

Blaine was going to open his mouth to say something, but Wes cut him off again.

"Blaine, what do you think you should be doing right now?"

Blaine thought about it for a moment, and when it came to him, it was like being hit by a bus. "Oh my god," Blaine whispered, "I am the stupidest person alive."

Wes grinned when it came to him, and one by one, the other boys started to grin, too.

"Go to him, Blaine," David said, "He might be sick right now, but the only thing he really needs more than medicin or sympathetic get-well-soon cards is you."

"Thanks, guys," Blaine swallowed and smiled for the first time in a day. His friends shuffled out of the room one by one, and soon, Wes was only left in the room with Blaine. Wes patted his friend on the shoulder and spoke.

"Before she died she told me she loved me more than anything," Wes said, "And that she'd do anything just to have one more day with me. That still haunts me every single day."

"I'm so sorry," Blaine croaked.

"No, Blaine, I'm sorry," Wes shook his head. "You don't deserve any of this. Neither does he, and I understand why he kept it a secret from everyone all these years. But you really need to be there for him right now. I'm sure he's going crazy all by himself at home, wondering if you two are still an item or not."

"Oh god," Blaine sighed, "I can't believe how selfish I was being."

There was silence for a few seconds before Blaine whispered,

"I love him so much, Wes. And I'm scared as hell."

"I was you once," Wes told Blaine. "Don't make the same mistake as I did. He needs you, Blaine. And it's clear that you need him."

Wes gave his friend one more pat on the shoulder before he got up off the bed and walked out Blaine's door, closing it slowly and smiling.

Blaine knew now. This was exactly what Kurt didn't want, the last thing he'd ever want in the world was someone finding out his secret and leaving. Blaine could almost hear Kurt's sobs, could almost feel himself wrapped in his arms. None of this was Kurt's fault. It was nobodies fault. And right now, Blaine needed more than anything to go see the person he loved, no matter how broken or sick he may be. If loving Kurt and doing anything and everything possible to keep him healthy meant getting hurt, so be it. Blaine wanted to get hurt now. If it included Kurt, he wanted everything.

He wanted Kurt.

Blaine got up off the bed, wiped away his tears, and ran to his closet to change his clothes as fast as he could. He was going to go see Kurt, right now.

It was what he needed.

Oh my god, I was just realizing that as I wrote this chapter, it was kind of parallel tomy 500 Days of Kurt story that I wrote when Blaine was sulking because Kurt went away from Dalton and his friends were acting all motherly. I literally cannot stop laughing! I remember I spent my whole summer on that story, the good ol' days :') Thanks for reading!