Just an interlude like chapter. I feel bad about how long it takes me to get chapters out, and I wanted to give you guys a little bit of family love / family comfort time.
So, this chapter is kind of based off of one of my hospital visits. I had to have a spinal fusion for my scoliosis when I was 12, and it took a little bit of a rougher turn when they realized I had a more severe curve than they believed I had (They believed it was around 60. It ended up being a few degrees off of 100 and I also had a comp curve that was more severe).
On that note, I want to mention that chapters may be coming out slower and slower than they may have been. I'm going into finals season and I'm also dealing with neuropathy and severe migraines, and have to go to Neurology, which one happen until April, unfortunately. But I am writing whenever I can.
Enjoy!
When Kurt began to come to again, it was to his father sitting at his bedside, holding his hand and reading a book. The man had pulled a recliner to Kurt's bedside and was right up against his side rail. Kurt had pulled his hand close to his chest, and from the death grip he'd had on it, Kurt figured it had been a good six or so hours since he last woke.
He let out a groan at how positively dry his mouth was. His father's head snapped up from his book and looked at Kurt, gauging just how awake his son was. There was a good possibility that Kurt would fall back asleep if they let him.
"Kurt, kid, you with us?" Burt asked, folding the ear of the page and closing the book. Kurt tried to focus in on the title, but it only served to make his head pound.
He let out a small moan as the pounding hit him, but Kurt managed to stuff it down a moment later. His whole body ached, all the lactic acid in his muscles having yet to disperse. Kurt lied still and grit his teeth together tightly. But he kept his eyes open, focusing on his dad's hand and his face.
"Daaad," the boy whispered. He hacked as something in his lungs gurgled. Burt was quick to sit the head of the bed up above 50 degrees, standing up so that he could remain in his son's line of sight.
Kurt managed to look around and see what was going on in the room. It was dark out, so it was probably night. Finn lay sprawled out in one of the bench-like seats, arms thrown out and a comforter draped around his body. Carole slept in another recliner, on Kurt's other side. He quickly realized that she was holding his other hand, and he was clutching it just as tightly as she was.
Seizures? He thought as he tried to process what had led him here. Kurt looked over to his dad, who stroked some hair off of Kurt's sweat-soaked forehead.
"Still running a temp there, bud," Burt whispered as he squeezed his boy's hand. Kurt blinked at him, confusion marring his expression. Burt just rubbed his thumb over the back of his son's hand, waiting for him to either wake up more, or fall back into sleep.
Kurt's eyes slipped closed just seconds after his father began to rub. But as Burt stood, Kurt's eyes slammed open, and he gripped his father's hand tighter. Burt smiled and gently squeezed the boy's hand.
"I'm not going anywhere, scooter. Just relax, kiddo," Burt whispered. He took down the sides of the bed with one smooth move of his free hand. Burt then sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Kurt's sweat-soaked hair back. Kurt coughed and, finally realizing that he had a nasal cannula on, he tried to raise his free hand and bat it off his face.
"Kurt, buddy, please just leave that alone," Burt whispered as Kurt's hand came up to tug the oxygen off. "I was wonder when you'd start doing that, scooter. I knew you'd do that."
The last little bit came as a breath of relief. While drugged and exhausted, Kurt was still acting like himself.
Even though he'd been told not to, Kurt continued to try and pull the nasal cannula off his face. Burt caught his free hand and held it, pulling it away from Kurt's face. Kurt puffed his cheeks out as he blew out a sigh of frustration. Burt chuckled, happy that, even when he felt horrible, his son could show just how much of a Diva he really was.
Kurt fixed his eyes on his father's face as Burt held his hands and, subsequently, keeping him from pulling off the oxygen. The younger Hummel had a frown set on his face, but he laid his head back down on the pillows, allowing his father to just hold his hands as he tried to stay awake.
"They stayed," Kurt whispered after a long stretch of silence. He threw his eyes over to Carole and then looked to Finn, who was sleeping on the other side of the room. His voice was rough and, when he felt something catch in his lungs, he began to cough again.
Carole shifted on his other side as Burt helped his son sit up a little, and wiped away the thick mucus secretions that Kurt had hacked up. Kurt flopped back in the bed, and Burt smiled. Kurt kept a hold on his father's hand, gripping at it tightly as he held it against his chest.
"Of course they did, Scooter. The doctors and the nurses couldn't keep them out of the room."
Kurt looked rather surprised, and Burt just pressed a gentle kiss to his son's forehead.
"Get some rest, kiddo. You look exhausted."
Kurt simply let his eyes slide closed. When Burt was fairly certain that his son was asleep, he let go of one of Kurt's hand, the one that had been reaching to remove the oxygen. He sat back in his chair, sighing as he glanced over to his book. He moved to get it, and then returned to his son. When he saw Kurt, he barked out a laugh.
Kurt had his eyes wide open, and had tugged his nasal cannula off his face. Then his eyes slid shut, all while Burt was watching, and drifted off to sleep now that he wasn't being bothered by the nasal cannula.
