A/N: Okay, as promised, the back-on-track chapter. This one is a little on the, well... everywhere side. Hospital grade drugs are tricky things. I also realize that I left the last chapter a little too open ended, so I'll clear that up now: No one is dying in my story, that's why there is no warning. But just in case it was too confusing for some, I added a transition sentence that makes it a little more clear. So, without further ado... the formalities. Then the story.

Please ignore any mistakes, I still do not have a beta.

Warnings: suicidal thoughts, drug induced feelings and talk there-of, general (Klaine is not together?! Why?!) angst

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters depicted in this story (not even the doctor, because I don't want him... and you'll see why in later chapters). This is a work of fan fiction.

Enjoy!... Or not, it's your choice.

"Again, I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson. We have done everything we could. It's all up to Blaine now."

You know how in movies when someone usually wakes up in a hospital everything is sharp and clear but painful, because: Hello, you are in hospital. There are the white walls and the uncomfortable non-clothing, with flowers or balloons or cards somewhere in the room, and someone usually sitting by the bed and they had fallen asleep waiting for the person that's a patient to wake up. When they wake up a doctor usually sweeps as if on cue, because it is a movie.

Well, Blaine thinks, blinking awkwardly, his eyes clenching unnecessarily each time he closed them; but despite how weird he knew it is, he could not stop from doing it, this isn't the movies.

He was not able to take in the details of the room, or what time of day it was, or even how he felt at that moment. Then again, he was not even sure of any of that was true because he recognized that he was in a hospital and was able to think about hospital movies—waking up in hospital movies—and flowers.

Did someone get him flowers?

Why would someone get him flowers if his toes were numb?

No, wait—he could not feel his toes. Did he cut off his toes?

He blinked oddly again, but when he opened his eyes this time there was suddenly a man in a thin white coat at the foot of his bed—a doctor?

Did he just apparate in?

"Oh," the man exclaimed, looking up from the—whatever he was holding, Blaine could not think of the word at the moment, "It's good to see you awake, Blaine. Though I would've rather you not—"

Blaine closed his eyes and listened to the doctor's, which he now remembered was his doctor the last time he was here, voice change into a deeper and more stern tone with an odd paper crinkling sound in the background. He kept his eyes closed because they felt too heavily to lift, as if he was too tired to do so.

"—left our bedroom door open! I should have closed it!" The crinkling sound increased but then it sounded like someone was choking on a sob—Oh, wait, the crinkling was someone sniffing back from crying. "But I didn't know he was home! I didn't—"

When he finally realized it was his dad talking Blaine forced his eyes open a sliver, but the voice changed again just as he did. He saw Brittany sitting in the chair next to his bed when he was able to focus his gaze; just then, he managed to take in the details of his room as he listened to her chatter on.

"—find your horn. But I wasn't supposed to anyways because that would mean you couldn't put it back on." Brittany's bright blues—Kurt's face flashed in his mind—met his own barely open ones, but she did not look surprised to see him awake, as if she knew the whole time that he would be or that he was listening.

His tongue felt heavy—Kurt must have been crying because his eyes were blood-shot and his cheeks were red—like he had a mouth full of sand and it was hard to talk around it. Blaine was not even entirely sure he was able to but someone spoke in his voice not too long after he tried.

"I can feel my toes."

The blond girl smiled brightly and looked down, "Me too!"

Kurt was sitting where Brittany had been—but Blaine was sure he did not blink this time.

Oh, ow! His throat hurt. Why did his throat hurt?

Did his stomach just growl? When was the last time he ate?

Why was he suddenly feeling everything else? He could only just feel his toes a second ago when Brittany was here. She said she could feel his toes too.

Oh... Blaine rolled his shoulders with some difficulty, The pills. He sucked in a breath through his nose, Fuck... That's why I'm in a hospital. He opened his eyes, not realizing he had closed him, and looked around the room a little lost. I am in a hospital, right?

"You scared me half to death."

Kurt was still sitting in the chair.

That rules out me being a time-traveler, Blaine let his eyes droop and he let out a chuckle; which he instantly regretted, Okay, ow. No laughing... Maybe I did have sand in my mouth and I swallowed it? His head lolled to the side but he did not take his eyes off of Kurt, watching as the teen looked at him in concern and sadness, those blue eyes of his dancing in a way—then water began to fall onto Kurt's cheeks.

Why the hell was the hospital staff letting it rain in here? And on Kurt, no less!

Blaine glanced back at Kurt from where he had been trying to find the cloud on the ceiling and noticed Kurt had changed his clothes from the last second he saw him—and the doctor was at the foot of his bed again. He must have fallen—he must keep falling asleep because there was no way that he was a time-traveler and a magician, because Kurt look amazing.

"Hello, Blaine," the doctor said, trying to draw the bed-ridden teen's attention from Kurt, "I'm Dr. Henry, I was you doctor last time you were here."

Kurt was staring at Blaine sternly, not saying a word, or at least he was trying really hard to because his lips were pressed together rather tightly.

"I would like to ask you a few questions, Blaine,"—Why was this guy still talking?—"Let's start off with how you are feeling."

He must have taken too much time to answer because Kurt nudged his hand, the way he used to nudge his hand back when they were close enough to have their hands near one another. So Blaine relented and looked at the doctor, mainly because Kurt's ocean-wave eyes were making him dizzy with all of their—waviness, "I'm tired."

"Expected, it's just the medicine though." So he must really be a time traveler because the next thing he was hearing from the doctor did not make any sense from what he had just been asking, "I know this is difficult, but I believe that you would receive better help at a clinic better suited to your current feelings and thoughts. They will help you manage these things. I have heard from you parents that they do not want to put you in that type of facility because of what it would do to your school reputation, which I understand. But for your benefit, I think it would be the wisest decision."

"Are you—" Blaine shook his head, his brain felt like it was wrapped in cotton candy, all fluffy and puffy and the sugar giving him a rush, "—do you want to send me to a loony-bin?"

He only thought he cut his toes off! He did not actually do it!

"That is not really the term—"

"Blaine," Kurt put his hand on Blaine's, curling his fingers around his wrist slightly, "you need help dealing with this. You can't do this alone."

"Quite right, Mr. Hummel, Blaine you need—"

"I can help you, if you let me," Kurt continued, ignoring the doctor, "I know if you go to a place like that, it won't help. You won't want it because they are forcing it on you. But maybe if I—"

"Mr. Hummel," the doctor said indignantly, "Blaine attempted to kill himself twice; you are in no way qualified to deal with—"

"No, I didn't!" Both Kurt and the doctor look startled at Blaine's outburst, but he continued on, a fire burning behind his eyes at the accusation, "I did not try to kill myself twice!"

The room stayed silent except for the slightly erratic beeping from the monitor hooked up to Blaine's finger, showing off his heightened emotional state.

Kurt turned to the doctor suddenly, "He doesn't remem—"

"It is the medication we have him on," he said calmly. "There are side-effects with every medicine, but with these—" he shrugged, "—short-term memory loss is highly probable." The man turned to look at Kurt, looking down at him in more than he-was-standing way, "Do you still believe you can help him? Yes, as time goes on, his body will adjust and he will begin to feel like normal—"

Liar... Blaine thought, turning his gaze back to Kurt.

"—but he needs more intensive care than you can provide."

Kurt's all I'll ever need… he just doesn't want me.

A/N: So, there it is. I hope that was not as confusing as I think it might be... but I've been staring at it since last night, so I wouldn't know. Anyways, thanks for all the kind words about my detour chapter. I know that I was going to go on with a Kurt one at some point but I also might do another Brittany, because ya'll seemed to like her POV.

Anyways, I hope ya'll enjoyed... or I hope ya'll didn't hate it and might come back?... Maybe?

Until next time,

Anjel Starlight