A/N: Hello! Sorry for the early post but someone asked me to switch with them at work today, so I won't get out of work until later than I promised to post! So here it is, because I have to make this quick, chapter four! But you get a lot of explanation in this one. Anyways...

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 of the characters depicted, this is a work of fan fiction.

Enjoy!... Or not, lots of Klaine angst.

"I feel stupid."

A giggle resounded through the small hospital room, "You shouldn't, it's just the medication."

Blaine rolled his eyes and glared at the nurse attending to his IV bag, bitterly muttering, "It doesn't change the fact that I feel stupid."

"And you should."

He stiffed in his propped up state. It was the voice he had dreamed about, that haunted him, that saved him: Kurt's voice.

A frown took up residence on his young but stubbled face as he turned to look at Kurt, standing in the threshold of Blaine's hospital room with the door wide open behind him.

"What you did was stupid," Kurt continued to say, taking two more steps into the room. Blaine only noticed it was for the nurse when she slipped behind the boy that still held his heart—even if it was on the floor in his room... or the waste-basket... or wherever Kurt had thrown it.

"M'sorry," he muttered, slightly slurred.

Blaine sunk back into his bed, eyes closing to the rush of medication flowing through his system now that the nurse had readministered his dose; but hopefully this time, since Kurt was here, he would not fall asleep too soon.

He had been in the hospital for three days now and the doctor was already decreasing his tranquiller dosage and talking about the medication that he would be on after he was released. It would be two different types of pills, one to be taken in the morning and after lunch, and the other was for at night. That was as far as Blaine listened to the doctor talk, ignoring completely what the technical functions of the medication were; all he knew was the he did not want to take them. They were just going to be like the previous one, just stronger.

Maybe this time—

Kurt touched Blaine's wrist, right below where it was cuffed to the bed grating. Blaine stared at the hand, slender fingers working to gently rub at the soft, sensitive skin of his inner wrist. "How do you feel?" Kurt asked as he took a seat, fingers never leaving Blaine's wrist.

The shorter teen blinked slowly before readjusting his shoulders to try and remove the sudden tingling sensation that was star-bursting just beneath his skin, even when he knew that no matter how much he moved the uncomfortable feeling would remain until he began too tired to care. "Stupid," Blaine muttered plainly.

Kurt sighed heavily and looked down at their connected skin.

He had his thinking face on; but it seemed everyone had their thinking face on now-a-days when they were around Blaine. Like they were trying to figure him out, trying to piece together what they knew of him from the past and were unable to match them to who sat in front of them—like they did not know who he was at all. He could understand that though, he did not know quite who he was or what he was thinking lately either. How his thoughts were a jumbled mess and his body would not listen to him and he could not understand how he got to this point and he forgot why he was here sometimes and why he wanted to be left alone but not alone and how is it that everything else is so dull and fuzzy and Kurt is so bright and in focus that it hurts to look at him sometimes but he cannot stop and he feels like he is spinning out of control even when the room is not and his head feels so full but he does not think he is thinking of anything—does that even count as thinking?

Before his mind allows him to continue running a million thoughts a second, Kurt speaks again—asking the one question that Blaine does not want to hear.

"Why?"

Why? Everyone asked that question, the doctor, the nurse, his parents, his brother... now Kurt. Up until now he just shrugged his shoulders and closed his eyes, not even needing to pretend to sleep because the medication took care of that for him... but this was Kurt. Kurt, who was at the center of everything that Blaine did or thought about ever since they first kissed. "I don't really know..." he said in the end.

Kurt glared at him, "Blaine. That's bullshit."

The curly-haired teen just closed his eyes briefly, feeling his skin begin to itch the way it always did right after the tingling left, almost the way he remembered his foot or leg or arm would feel after it fell asleep—but Kurt's fingers were on his wrist. And that simple thing brought everything into perspective.

Kurt was here. He was here and Blaine finally had the chance to talk to him, to tell him.

"I just wanted—I felt so alone," Blaine opened his eyes and looked right into Kurt's more grey-than-blue eyes. "I wanted to still feel connected with you but you were ignoring me. You would only talk about yourself and how New York was and how great it was and Vogue and how did you ever get by living in Ohio." The look in the taller teen's eyes changed, realizing that this was not from Blaine's feelings on wanting to kill himself—it was what Kurt never wanted to listen to before, what caused it all. "I mean, I was happy for you. Of course I was—but then you weren't answer my texts or calls or missing Skype dates or cutting them short. It was hard, but I tried to understand what it would have been like moving somewhere new. So I let it slide. But then—" Blaine swallowed back the lump forming in his throat, not being able to tell if it was from the emotion or the medication. "You only talked about yourself. I thought you didn't care anymore, but I didn't want to believe it... because we're us. We were great and soul-mates and all we would ever need was each other. I tried really hard to cling to that, Kurt. I really did.

"But then you cut-off my 'I love you'; and everything seemed to fall into place. It had to be more than you just being excited, maybe you really didn't care," he sighed and closed his eyes; Kurt's becoming too sharp to look into anymore. "I just wanted to feel wanted by you, then I just wanted to feel wanted." Blaine forced himself to look at Kurt again, because it was important—he just had to understand, "You were everything to me, Kurt. I thought I was that to you, but I didn't feel like it in the end... So here comes this guy and he's interested in me, what I have to say, what I feel, what I think... me. We talked in the beginning, that's all it was. Then it was the week of the elections and I won. I won, Kurt. And where were you? I didn't know because you didn't answer.

"I get—" Blaine said with more emphasis when Kurt opened his mouth to defend himself, "—that it was no excuse to cheat, and I'm sorry I did. I mean, I'm still paying for it." He paused for longer this time, taking a moment for Kurt to think about what Blaine has said while he himself fought against the drowsiness that hit him. He needed to get this said, he needed Kurt to hear it, so he continued, "But how was I supposed to tell you about how I was feeling?" Blaine glared slightly at Kurt, "Talk to you? You weren't listening to me. You were practically ignoring me... So I cheated and ruined everything. I ruined us and broke you. It wasn't enough that before you were almost ignoring me, now you were avoiding me."

Blaine looked away, because he just could not say the next part while looking at Kurt, "I lost the love of my life, my soul-mate. I lost my best friend. I lost everything that ever made me truly happy—because I fucked up. So yes, it was a lot to deal with. But I was handling it, filling the spaces with newer, tighter friendships—then Valentine's happened. I felt..." he trailed off and shuddered, remember that day with too many mixed feelings, "I felt happy that you were giving us a second chance, but I realized afterwards that you were only using me." Blaine looked at Kurt briefly before looking away, not being able to handle Kurt's tears, "You used me. That wasn't you—it would have never been you; but I did that.

"I changed you... and that makes me sick. That I hurt you so much that it changed who you were. I could have lived with everything else, maybe even moved on—" he sucked in a breath, his eyes watering up and burning. "But not that, never that."

They sat in verbal silence after that, with sounds of the hospital in the background and both of them sniffling and handling their tears—but Kurt's fingers never left Blaine's wrist, they even pressed every once in a while. Blaine thought it was odd, but did not question it.

"Let me be here for you," Kurt broke the silence, his voice scratchy and thick but quiet and determined. "Let me help you."

Hazel eyes stared at the older teen, the hope stirring in that gaze pushed aside in denial, "Why do you care? Why are you here, Kurt?"

"Because," Kurt's eyes shifted back to blue suddenly, "despite everything, I still love you. I want to be here for you, I want you to be better. I—I want us to be okay... even if we aren't together. Please, Blaine, let me."

He stared at Kurt until he grew bright and so in focus that it began to hurt to look at him again, but Blaine persisted to look at the older teen and try and see him—until his vision blurred and he was forced to blink.

Why do I need Kurt to be okay? Why can't I be okay on my own?

A/N: I do believe that this is my longest chapter yet, but don't expect them to continue to get longer. The longer I write something the longer that it takes me to write it and edit... Then it might not be every week. So we don't want that.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed or you were at least entertained. Sorry if I seem a little rushed in my notes, I'm got one more thing to post.

Until next time!

-Anjel Starlight