Blaine Anderson wasn't the type who usually broke rules. But if there were ever a decent time to break the law, he dubbed now a pretty damn good time to ignore the speed limit.

Neither boy spoke, the tension in the air growing thick as the time on the tiny car clock climbed up. Blaine was squeezing the driver's wheel so tightly that his knuckles were turning an alarming shade of white, whilst Kurt just stared blankly at the raindrops on the window, appearing oblivious to anything happening around him.

However he tentatively placed a pale hand over Blaine's, the latter jumping at the unexpected contact. "Calm down, the last thing we need is for the two of us to end up in hospital because of your reckless driving," Kurt murmured, his voice thick. Blaine simply nodded in response, not taking his eyes off the road, the highway barely visible concealed in the dark night. For Kurt's sake, he reluctantly weakened the pressure on the pedal.

The silence struck again, Kurt feeling sick with worry. He'd always been a panicker, overthinking things, making mountains out of molehills. This particular trait was not making the whole situation any easier, he thought, biting his lip. Kurt closed his eyes in an attempt to get rid of the nausea, trying to clear his head of the various scenarios flashing through his mind. He pictured one of those huge pink foam erasers rubbing them all away. No Santana. Santana who? He managed to kid himself for a whole three seconds before it all came rushing back, ten times intensified. Oh god. His head started pounding, his heart hammering and palms sweating. No, that had most certainly not helped at all.

For the prior 15 minutes all he'd been able to think about was Santana being beaten, lying in a pool of her own blood. Or thrown down on the ground in a pitch black alleyway somewhere in Lima Heights and attacked. Or—

"Kurt?" Blaine asked quietly. When he received no response he looked over to see Kurt shaking slightly, the worry in his eyes apparent. "Hey, Kurt?" he asked louder, still trying to keep his voice as gentle as he could.

"Mmm?" Kurt replied, sounding dazed. "Sorry, I'm not really with it, I mean it is twenty to one in the morning…" he joked weakly.

There was a slight pause before both boys registered the time Kurt had just read off the tiny digital clock. Blaine spoke first. "Kurt? Don't you think your Dad might wonder why you aren't back nearly three hours after curfew?"

"Oh crap, my Dad! I was just so caught up in Santana and getting to hospital and I don't know what's wrong with her and the alleyways in Lima Heights and I hate hospitals and I mean, is she actually okay? And oh crap, my dad," he rambled on in a flustered tone, looking tearful at the end.

Blaine said nothing, silently pulling over and stopping the engine before spinning around to face Kurt. "Shh, shh," he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, letting him cry in his arms, whispering in a reassuring tone, trying to convince himself as well as Kurt.

As his breathing evened out Kurt gently detached himself from Blaine. "Thank you," he said softly. "And sorry for all that. All the panic just got to me and I had to let it all out," he admitted. "I acted like a Drama Queen, I know."

"You're not being dramatic; of course you're upset and panicking! I know I am," Blaine confessed. "And Santana's in great hands, and whatever's up with her they're doing what they can. She's not in an alley in Lima Heights, she's in hospital and she's safe. Okay? And as for your Dad, why don't you call him and explain? Just get him to meet us there, he'll understand."

Kurt responded by kissing Blaine, wrapping his arms around his neck. "Thank you," he whispered with bright eyes to Blaine, who just smiled back, slightly dazed.

"Let's get going."

Burt Hummel considered himself a reasonable father. Kurt's curfew was much later than the strict rules his father had laid out for him and Elizabeth when he was Kurt's age.

Kurt had never abused this privilege until now, and that was what worried Burt. He was a good kid, compared to some of the other students at McKinley. How Noah Puckerman's parents could allow him to sneak off for sometimes days at a time never ceased to amaze Burt. But Kurt had never shown any signs of teenage rebellion and always respected the rules Burt inisisted on.

Such as the one stating that he should be home by ten at the latest on school nights.

As the hands on the clock crawled closer to the eleven mark, Burt found himself panicking. Movie nights at Blaine's always ended at half nine, Burt knew for a fact, ensuring plenty of time for the short car trip home.

Not wanting to sound pushy, Burt pulled out his phone and warily typed out a text.

You started making your way home yet? Curfew has nearly an hour ago, school tomorrow.

(Sent to Kurt at 22:48)

Burt glared at the screen, willing for the tiny phone to buzz until he had to look away, his eyes watering a little.

Westminster chimes began playing from the analogue clock behind the sofa. Not wanting to turn around, Burt mentally counted the chimes after the melody ended.

…Nine. Ten. Eleven.

Shoot.

He began to feel uncomfortable, worrying about his son, somewhere out there… what if there was a car crash? Or he'd got caught by some homophobes? That Karofsky kid was nothing compared to what could happen in the middle of the night in Ohio…

Burt sighed. His son was rubbing off on him. Chances are he fell asleep at Blaine's, he told himself. But maybe it wouldn't hurt just to try calling…

Outgoing Call, Kurt (23:16):

"Hey-"

"Kurt, thank god-"

"This is Kurt, not that you didn't know that of course! But I'm obviously not here right now so leave a message after the-"

Beep.

"Hey Kurt, it's your Dad, I'm just wondering if you're okay, I'm a little worried, you do remember you should have been back by ten, 'kay? Just call back... umm, bye-"

Maybe Burt was a little more than worried…

Incoming Call, Kurt (00:47):

"Dad?" Kurt breathed shakily into then phone. Oh god, I'm going to be in such deep-

"Kurt? Oh God, it's you, I got so worried, why didn't you call me back? Oh my- You're in such big trouble right now- but you're okay right? Right, Kurt?"

"I'm fine Dad," Kurt reassured him through the line, tearing up a little at the sound of his Dad's voice. "I'm fine but… how soon can you be at Lima Memorial?"

Silence fell from the other end, until suddenly-

"Crap. It isn't Blaine, is it? Is he okay? I'll be there as soon as I can, what the hell happened? I'll be there as soon as I can…"

"No, no, it isn't Blaine, he's fine. Just a little shaken up, I guess."

Another pause.

"I'm not really understanding, bud."

"I got a call while I was at Blaine's. I don't really understand what's going on myself, but you know S-Santana? Santana Lopez? She was round after school today." He paused as his dad made a faint humming noise. "She's in hospital. Her family are- I don't know what's going on but they're not showing, so they called me instead and I- I just- I" Deep breaths. "Please meet me there."

The reply was instantaneous.

"Of Course."

"A-and one more thing?" Kurt added hesitantly, remembering what Santana had told him earlier.

I'm in love with Brittany.

"Could you make a stop on the way?"

Lima Memorial had never felt so far away.

A/N: Not my best work, nothing really happens here… but there will be lots of Brittana next chapter and some more Klaine coming up soon! =)

And don't forget to review, my hobbit-es from the shire!

Jess who has watched Lord of the Rings far too much over the holidays x x x