To you, Joan the demigod wizard. You're freaking awesome. (Oh, what's that I hear? You like nerd!Blaine and badboy!Kurt? Well don't mind if I do…)

This got so angsty, so quickly. Whoops!

Title, once again, courtesy of Katy Perry! :)

Wide Awake

Blaine's sitting in a hospital room.

He hates hospitals. They smell weird and everything is too white.

He especially hates not being in a hospital bed when he's, well, in a hospital. Because that means someone else is in a hospital bed.

So he brought five books with him. He rarely dares looking at Kurt, who's lying so pale and fragile on the bed. This is not the Kurt he came to know; the Kurt he knows is strong, fierce, powerful. Not a ragdoll, all drugged up, fed through a tube and only out of bed to go pee.

He finishes reading the last book on the second day- or night, actually. It's three in the morning and his eyes are itching with tiredness, but he can't sleep and even if he could, there's no comfortable place to do so and he's not going home when Kurt's still in that bed.

He closes the book and puts it on the nightstand with the others, looking at them sadly. He only lets himself look at Kurt's arm, resting carefully on the white sheet. It's the one that's not bandaged. He would've held It if he wasn't afraid.

"Blaine?"

His gaze darts up immediately. "Hmm?" He has to physically force his eyes to look straight into Kurt's. He doesn't even want to look at his hair, because even his hair seems weak with the pink fading and no product.

"Why are you awake?"

Blaine blinks and almost forgets to open his eyes in the middle. "Why are you awake?"

"I slept all day." Kurt grabs his hand and he almost jerks back; it's cold. He can't help the thought of how it feels a little like he's dead. "Are you okay?"

Blaine huffs out a humorless laugh. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?" He can't look at Kurt's terribly blue eyes anymore, so he looks away at their hands together. The difference between their skin tones is more obvious than ever.

"Have you even slept since we got here?"

Blaine shrugs.

"It's not healthy-"

"You shouldn't be lecturing me about what's healthy, Hummel."

That shuts him up, but also makes tears prickle in Blaine's eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

"'I know you meant it. You're right, though. I should be practicing a little before I preach," he utters. "I need to pee," he adds after a few seconds. "Can you help me up?"

Blaine gets up- his legs are sore from sitting all day- and slowly helps Kurt up to a sitting position. By the time he manages that, he's crying.

"B," he says in his raspy, sickly voice.

"I don't want you to die," he whispers, and he suddenly feels too feeble to stand; he falls back on his ass, sagging into the chair and putting his head in his hands. "I don't want you to leave me."

A soft hand touches his neck. "I'm not leaving you, B. I'll be okay. The doctors said so."

Blaine sobs into his hands. "How can I live without you, Kurt? How can I ever live without you?"

"Blaine. Now you're just being stubborn. Look at me."

So Blaine does. He looks at the sheet-white arms stretching from right under his view to the lanky body in scrubs. He looks at the clear tube that's placed under- in- Kurt's nose. He looks at the thin face of the boy that is his entire world, which is pierced twice around a dark eyebrow. He looks and dreads the thought of this boy disappearing, and cries.

"Don't leave me."

"I'm not planning to," he promises, and then half a smile blooms on his face and Blaine can't possibly understand what could be funny right now. "I mean, unless you count going to the restroom, because while I'm sure that'd be very sexy, I don't think we're quite at that level in our relationship yet."

Blaine smiles, too, and wipes off his tears. He'll get the nurse to let him sleep on the bed with Kurt later. And they'll be out of here soon.

He kisses Kurt's cheek before lifting him carefully, bridal-style, and carrying him to the restroom.