second interlude
"I wondered if I'd see you again."
Blaine startled and whipped his head round. Behind him was the boy from before, although now his pyjamas were cream with an emerald hem.
"Um, hi," Blaine said. He paused, stood up, and held out his hand with a genial smile. "My name's Blaine."
The boy looked surprised for a moment, and then he firmly grasped Blaine's hand and returned the smile. "Kurt."
That first night, Blaine asked Kurt a lot of questions, and the second, Blaine answered Kurt's. Three weeks passed in a similar manner; Blaine got used to feeling how time passed, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly, but able to sense the difference; they filled the nights with chatter of Kurt's day and easy banter. During the time Kurt was awake, Blaine usually sang to stave off both his loneliness and the guilt that Kurt was confiding things in him without knowing he was actually a real person. Blaine talked often about his life, but Kurt probably just thought his subconscious was providing him with a like-minded individual, another gay teenage male to talk to.
"Kurt, I need to tell you something," Blaine said one day after the other boy had finished telling him about a particularly obnoxious customer at his dad's garage.
Kurt hummed. "Sounds serious."
"I'm, uh – all this—" He waved his hand at their surroundings. "It isn't a dream. Well, it kind of is, but I'm – I really exist."
Kurt raised an eyebrow.
"There was a car crash a while ago along Route 33—"
"I remember that. It was on the news," Kurt interjected. "My dad wouldn't let me drive out of Lima for two weeks."
"Was it bad? Did anyone die?"
"Shouldn't you know that? You were in it, after all." Kurt looked unimpressed and a little amused.
"I was a bit too busy panicking to pay attention, believe it or not. Now I'm in a coma."
For a moment, Kurt looked stricken, but by the way his expression relaxed Blaine knew Kurt still didn't believe him. Blaine didn't blame him.
"Do you remember this place when you wake up?"
"Mostly, I guess. Not as much as real memories, though."
"My full name is Blaine Anderson," Blaine said. "You already know I'm a Warbler from Dalton Academy in Westerville, Ohio. If you look me up on Facebook, my profile is completely private except for my profile pictures, and my current one is a photo of me stranding with three other guys in front of the Six Flags sign." Blaine looked at Kurt meaningfully, but Kurt looked back with thin lips and blotchy, reddened cheeks.
"This isn't funny any more."
"Alright," Blaine said gently. He leant back, widened his shoulders, stretched one leg out in front of him; opening and relaxing his posture as he changed the topic back to difficult customers, and Kurt eventually relaxed.
The next night, Kurt approached him with red-rimmed eyes. "Hi," he whispered.
"Hi," Blaine murmured back. He offered Kurt a reassuring smile, which Kurt struggled to return; he held out his hand, and Kurt gripped it back tightly.
Before he woke up, Kurt gave Blaine the tightest hug he'd had in years, and Blaine had to force himself to let go when he felt Kurt begin to disappear in his arms.