Nothing's So Loud (16/18) - Part Two
Title: Nothing's So Loud (16/18)
Media: Fic
Author: a_glass_parade (GlassParade)
Beta: idoltina, additional support from gameboycolor
Rating: PG-13 to mild R
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine, reference to past Quinn/Finn and current Rachel/Finn
Genre: Romance, AU, Movie Adaptations
Warnings: Mentions of attempted suicide.
Spoilers: While events and references from all three seasons of Glee may be adapted and worked into the story occasionally, it's otherwise fully AU.
Word Count: Currently 88,000+ (WHAT. EVEN.)
Summary: Blaine Anderson is the easy going skateboarding slacker who's carried a torch for sheltered class Valedictorian Kurt Hummel for the last year. On the day they graduate from high school, he decides to do something about it. There's no way they should work. Everything will conspire against them. Can this unlikely pairing prevail?
Additional Notes: gameboycolor and naderegen wanted 90's Klaine. I suggested updating Cameron Crowe's iconic movie "Say Anything" to 1998 and making Blaine and Kurt into an analogue of Lloyd and Diane's star-crossed romance. This very loose adaptation, for better or for worse, is the result. Title is from the song "All I Want" by Toad the Wet Sprocket.
Connie was waiting by the ER doors for Kurt when he ran in, and she deftly caught him by the arm when he raced by. “Whoa there, partner,” she drawled, dragging him to a halt. “Chill.”
“Where's my dad? What's wrong with him? Is he okay?” Kurt couldn't stop babbling in his panic, the same panic that got him to Lima General through more red lights than he cared to remember. At least no cops had seen him. “Please, Connie.”
“You know I have to let Dr. Lopez tell you, Kurt.” She was gentle but firm as she steered him to one of the chairs and forced him to sit down. “He's alive. Breathe for me. I'll page Dr. Lopez and come back to sit with you, okay?”
He nodded and watched her walk over to the nurses' station to pick up the phone. It felt like he'd had ten cups of coffee in the last fifteen minutes, he was so amped up on adrenaline and fear. Looking at his hands, Kurt could see he was trembling like a leaf.
Smaller hands covered his, stilling the tremor. Kurt looked up into Connie's warm, worried hazel eyes. “Can't you tell me something?” he begged. “Where was he brought in from?”
“I can't, Kurt. I really, really can't. It has to be the doctor.” She bit her lip as she gazed at him, apology in her eyes. “Honestly, Dr. Lopez should be here any moment. He'll tell you everything.”
“You told me last time we were here that he was stable, you didn't say that this time,” he fretted, willing his knees to stop jumping as he shook with nerves. “You just said he was alive.”
“He is alive.” Connie took the seat next to him, keeping her hands firmly on his. “Kurt, I wouldn't lie to you about that. He is alive.”
“But you can't say he's stable.” It was a statement, not a question, and his heart fell as she looked away. He pulled his hands away and rubbed at his face, trying to redirect his thoughts from the morbid. “He must have gone to the shop. His car wasn't at the house. God, why would he have gone to the shop?”
“Breathe, Kurt. Please. Don't work yourself up any more. Come on, look at me.” She reached up and turned his face so that they made eye contact. “Come on, Kurt. In, out. In, out. Don't make me get you a bed in with your dad. In, out.”
Gradually, he came down from his panic and began to think again. “I should call Aunt Sarah.”
“Why don't you wait until you have more news to give her?” Connie patted his arm and pointed down the hallway. “Look, here comes Dr. Lopez now. I'll give you -”
“No.” Kurt grabbed at her arm as she began to stand up, seized her hand and held tight. “Stay. Please. Don't leave me, Connie.”
“Okay. I won't.” She sat back down and put an arm around his shoulders as he nervously watched the approaching cardiologist.
“Kurt.” Dr. Lopez was sober as he walked up, chart in hand. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”
Kurt bolted up to his feet, dragging Connie with him. “What's wrong? Why was he brought in? Where was he? Is he okay?”
“He was brought in from the tire shop, I'm afraid.” Dr. Lopez opened the chart and glanced at it, frowning in disapproval. “Now, I've spoken with Diane Johansson and she told me that she had strictly forbidden a return to work at this time. Do you know why he was there?”
“No. I don't.” Kurt shook his head, gripping Connie's hand more tightly. “He waited until I left the house to go, I have no idea what he was thinking.”
The cardiologist nodded. “Okay. Well, apparently he was working on a tire change when he had a heart attack. That was bad enough in itself, but he went down pretty hard before anyone knew what was happening and he hit his head. There's bruising and...” He paused, taking a deep breath before going on. “He appears to be in a coma, Kurt. I'm sorry.”
The world felt as if it were spinning around him, and only Connie's grip on his hand kept Kurt anchored. “Do you know...is he going to...”
“Right now things look...” The doctor hesitated, clearly unhappy. “We're monitoring him, and we'll do all we can, Kurt. I'm sorry I don't have better news for you.” Dr. Lopez patted him on the arm in sympathy and sighed. “I can't let you back in the ICU now, either, not at the moment. Probably not today, if I am being honest.”
“Oh, my God.” Kurt fell back into his chair, stunned. “I can't see him? I can't stay with him?”
“I'm sorry.” And Dr. Lopez did look regretful as he repeated his apology. “I'm going back to check on him now. If anything changes, we can call you at home.”
Kurt looked between doctor and nurse, feeling increasingly frantic again. “Wait, I can't even stay out here?”
“I wouldn't recommend it, honey.” Connie sat back down and hugged him. “You heard him, they probably won't even let you back there today. You might as well go home, you won't be comfortable here. Maybe you can call your aunt now? She can come stay with you?”
“No, she's got her summer job, I can call her but she can't stay with me.” He bounced up and began to pace the room, twisting his fingers. “It's fine. It's fine. I don't need anyone to stay with me. This is all fine. It's going to be fine. I don't even need to go home, I will be just fine here. The chairs are really comfortable.”
He didn't see Connie cast a significant look at Dr. Lopez, and didn't even really register the cardiologist nodding and walking back to the ICU. He paced the floor, calculating how long he'd be willing to wear the same clothes and whether he could manage a shower somewhere. Would the Prell 2 in 1 shampoo stuff be able to do a whole lot of damage to his hair if he only used it once? He was pretty sure that was all the gift shop sold.
Connie stepped in front of him and arrested his repetitive motion by the simple expedient of putting her hands up so that he ran right into her. The shock jolted him out of his circular thoughts, making him shake his head to try and get back to some semblance of reason. “What?” he asked, rather stupidly.
“You cannot stay here. I will not let you,” she informed him, her tone brooking no argument. “And the more you say 'fine' the less I feel like you actually are, in fact, fine. I don't want you alone tonight.”
Kurt wasn't following. “So...do...you want to stay with me?” He felt a lot slower than usual. It must be the shock. But why would Connie want to stay with him? She probably didn't really like him, he realized, and the thought made him unaccountably sad.
“Well, I would, but no, I was actually thinking you could ask my brother.” She tipped her head to the side and looked up at him, waiting for his response.
He was even more confused now. “Blaine?”
“No, my other little brother that up till now you've never met. Of course Blaine.” Connie shook her head. “He'd want to, Kurt.”
“But why would you suggest it? Why would you want me anywhere near him?” Wretchedly, Kurt gave in to the desire to pull at his hair and tried to understand. “I mean, I was going to go see him. Soon. Really. But I can't go now and why would you want me to, don't you want to kill me?”
“Wow. Again, breathe.” She grabbed his arms and held him in place. “No, I do not want to kill you. I did want to smack you around a little, but...you know, I kind of understand why you did what you did. I think it's dumb and I am quite sure I am not the only one, but I get it.”
He shook his head to clear it. “You do?”
“Yeah. Your dad's a heart patient and you're leaving for England, and things are going wrong and you think he should be your priority. That's noble. Stupidly noble, but noble all the same.” Connie looked up at him, keeping her eyes on his and choosing her words carefully. “I know you didn't do it because you wanted to hurt my brother. Blaine knows that, too. That's why he still wants you back. Trust me, if he thought for one second you didn't feel a even a little spark still, he wouldn't have gone to your house with that radio last week.”
“You know about that?” The memory made Kurt smile even as it twisted the knife in his heart.
“Please. I know everything.” She gently socked him in the arm with her fist and gave him a half-grin. “I saw you and Blaine together a hundred times over the summer. It was obvious how you felt about him then, and it's not something you would set aside lightly. If at all. If you still care about him and you really want him back, you have the chance right now to do it, and you might as well take it.”
“But my dad...” He trailed off, uncertain.
“Is obviously going to do what he wants, when he wants, and clearly no amount of watching over by you is going to change him. Kurt...” Connie took a deep breath. “You can't let this rule your life. Maybe this is your sign to let go a little. You gave up a lot and this...it still happened. Okay?” Her eyes searched his, wanting him to understand. “Is that making sense?”
Kurt nodded, slowly. “It...yes...but...Connie, I can't go to Blaine now. He's just going to think it's because of my dad.”
“Well, he won't be wrong.” She shrugged. “But he knows you, Kurt. He'll know that's not the only reason. You know he's not stupid. And you have got to know by now how deep his feelings for you run. He will see beneath the surface.”
“I'm going to England soon.” It was the last roadblock, and even then he knew it wasn't much of one.
“So you go now and you maximize every second you have and stop worrying. You can't control everything, Kurt, and if you keep trying you're just going to go nuts. Let go.” Her eyes never left his, her hand still a comforting weight on his arm. “This thing you have with my brother is a good thing. A lot of people never get a first crack at it, let alone the second and third chance you're getting. I would know.” She slipped her hand down and took his, holding it tight. “Embrace this chance. Take a breath and let it happen.”
Kurt closed his eyes and breathed in, out, slow and even. When he blinked again, Connie was still there. “You're sure he'd take me back?”
“You know he would.” Connie pulled him towards the ER doors. “He's at the skate park. Go, Kurt.”
He couldn't get to his car fast enough.
“So is Nick speaking to you yet?” Jeff adjusted the strap on his helmet as he and Blaine waited at the top of the half-pipe for Mike to finish his run. Blaine scoffed, taking off his own helmet to shake out the sweat in his curls.
“Please, dude, it's only been two days since I spanked his ass in Cincy, just like I told him I would.” Blaine stretched his arms over his head, grinning. “I'll give him a few more days to come to terms with it.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Jeff clapped him on the back. “You look like you're doing better, after the meet and all. You're...smiling. Are you better? Has Kurt called?”
Blaine thought about it, squinting at the blue summer sky. “No, Kurt hasn't called, but...yeah, I'm better, kind of,” he replied slowly, considering. “I mean, right now I'm better. Today. I'm not dumb enough to think a week or two is enough time to get over it but...today, I'm better. And maybe Kurt will come back around or maybe he won't, but today I'm okay with whatever happens.”
He was surprised to find that he really did mean it. It still felt a little like biting down on a tooth with an exposed nerve, but...less. A little. Enough that he felt okay to function. Enough that he wasn't cursing the hope that Kurt would come back, not today at least.
Sometimes Blaine thought that hope would never die. And he didn't quite want it to. As much as it pained him to admit it, he'd still take Kurt back. He still believed that Kurt loved him, even if he'd never said it. Blaine was even ready to forgive the pen thing. He thought he understood where Kurt had been coming from with it. Maybe.
Well. No. No, that still baffled him.
This wasn't getting him anywhere. He shook his head and tuned back into Jeff. “Good,” his friend was saying with a cheery nod, leaning in for a backslapper of a hug. “It's good. I hope he comes back around, obviously, but, you know, good that you're better, at least.”
“Right now it's good to just not be curled up on the couch.” Blaine hugged Jeff back. “It is also good to know I can win meets despite putting on ten pounds of sad pizza eating weight in two weeks, Jesus.”
“I think that's what really pissed Nick off, yeah,” Jeff agreed with a laugh. “I still wish you had been able to see his face when you pulled off that frontside rock and roll.”
“Wes said that Nick was particularly harsh about the size of my ass on that one, so I must have been pretty awesome.” Grinning, Blaine stuck out his tongue in a noisy raspberry and made Jeff laugh again. “Well, shit, I know I was, I went home with the trophy and the cash.” With a wink, he stepped back, cupping his hands around his mouth to yell at Mike. “Come on, Chang, other people want to practice, too!”
Mike gave a high sign to indicate he'd heard Blaine and executed a perfect 720 before sliding back down and across the pipe to land back on the table with them. “Sorry, man. I was in the zone.”
“No problem. I just want to get in one last try at making my handstand stall a little longer before I have to go home.” Blaine grinned and scooted his board over the lip of the table, prepping to drop in. He glanced down at Quinn, sitting on the hood of her car scribbling in her notebook. “Quincy! Last run for me and Jeff, then you want to go to Dairy Queen?”
She waved up and nodded. “Yeah, absolutely.”
“Okay.” He looked over at Jeff and gave him a thumbs up. “Good?”
“Good.” Jeff nodded. “I'll go right after you.”
“Your helmet, dude.” Mike picked it up from where it lay on the plywood and handed it over. Blaine shuddered.
“Yikes. Thanks, man. That could have been a disaster.” Shaking his head once more to get more sweat off, Blaine had the helmet positioned over his head when, out of nowhere, he heard it. The voice he had never really thought he'd hear again any time soon.
“Blaine?”
The sound of Kurt saying his name, so welcome but so unexpected, startled Blaine. With a rush of fear, he felt his skateboard slip under his feet as he jumped in surprise, felt his helmet fall from his hands as he flailed in vain to try and stay atop the table. His board shot out from under him as he slid down the side of the pipe, his back and then his head thumping hard against the sturdy wood surface.
Everything went black as he tumbled down the vert into the flat.
“Is he okay?”
Blaine blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the sun being directly above his face, instead of behind his head. His head, which hurt like a motherfucker right at this moment. He winced at it, and his eyes came slowly into focus to see Kurt, who had asked the question, hovering anxiously over him. “Hurts,” he mumbled, his tongue feeling thick. “Ow.”
“Dude, stay still.” Jeff was just as anxious as Kurt, kneeling down right next to him. “Do you want us to call an ambulance or take you to the hospital?”
“No...ugh...” Blaine raised a hand to cover his eyes. “Sun hurts. Everything hurts. Why'm I hurt?”
Jeff exchanged a worried look with Kurt before replying. “You slipped, man. Fell right down the pipe and scared the shit out of all of us. You didn't have your helmet back on, so you hit your head and it knocked you out.” He chewed on his lower lip. “You might have a concussion. We should take you to Lima General.”
“No. Said no.” Peeking through his fingers, his eyes zeroed in on the person he wanted most in the world to see. “Kurt?”
“I'm here.” Kurt grabbed his free hand gently. “Blaine, I am so sorry. For everything, but right now, especially this. Ouch! Quinn!”
She had punched him right in the arm. “You don't yell at a skater on the edge of the table, you idiot! What the fuck were you thinking? You could have killed him!”
“Leave 'im 'lone, Quincy,” Blaine mumbled. His ankle was throbbing, but when he twitched it experimentally, it didn't seem broken. It wasn't feeling particularly healthy, but it wasn't broken. Against everyone's protests, he slowly pushed himself to sitting, closing his eyes as the world spun. “He didn't know.”
“Common sense,” she muttered, but let up and confined herself to glaring at Kurt before getting to her feet and stomping off back to her car.
Jeff reached out a cautious hand. “Hospital?”
“No.” Blaine said again. He shook his head, but very slowly and carefully so as to not make the pain worse. His eyes swam a little. “Well, maybe. I don't know. Just...go with Quinn for now. You and Mike. I want to talk to Kurt.” A groan from Kurt made him turn slowly so he could see him better. “Kurt. Why...”
“Well, ironically,” Kurt mumbled, sniffling a little as Jeff and Mike walked away, “I was just coming from the hospital.”
Blaine frowned. “Huh? Are you okay?”
“Yes! Yes, I'm fine...obviously. I'm here.” Sitting back on his heels, Kurt wrapped his arms around himself. “It's my dad. Again. But worse. I can't...he...”
“Spit it out,” Blaine sighed. His head hurt too much to follow along with Kurt's ramblings, though he desperately wanted to know what was going on.
“He went to work, like an idiot, and he had a heart attack, and he hit his head too and now he's in a coma.” The words tumbled out of Kurt in a rush. “And I wouldn't have come Blaine, not today I really wouldn't have, but I intended to come to you some time because I was an idiot and I know that. Except then this happened, and they won't let me stay in the ER until it's okay for me to see him, and your sister said I should just go ahead and come talk to you now and oh, God, Connie is so going to kill me, I was supposed to talk to you not injure you and -”
“Too much,” groaned Blaine, putting his hand back over his eyes. “Slow down. Make sense. Please.” Somewhere in there it sounded like his inextinguishable hope was going to be fulfilled - but he didn't dare believe it. Not yet.
He heard Kurt take a deep breath, then another, and another before he spoke again. “My father is in the hospital again,” he said simply, directly, and with only a little distress straining his voice. “He's in a coma. And...and I can't do this alone, Blaine. I shouldn't have even tried. It was all going to happen no matter what I did or what I gave up.”
“Right...” Blaine peered through his fingers, squinting to get a good look at Kurt's earnest, worried face through a gray haze of head pain. A part of him was wondering if he was still blacked out and this was a concussion dream. Did those even exist? “So what does that mean? I don't, I'm not...Kurt, I hit my head, please, spell it out.”
“It means I want to try again. If you do.” Kurt's hand trembled a little as it came to rest on Blaine's arm. His eyes were wide and bright and full of hope and fear. “It's horrible timing, I know, but I need you so much right now. I was an idiot. Completely. I was wrong to break up with you, and so wrong doing it the way I did. And I am so, so sorry for all of it.” He was perched warily, as if ready to take flight while he waited for Blaine's response. Another heavy breath prefaced his next words. “Blaine, please. I love you.”
It hurt so much to think. All he could understand was that Kurt was here and wanted to be here, wanted to talk to him. Needed him. Wait. “...did you just say you loved me?”
“Yes.” Shuffling forward, Kurt tried to wrap his arms around him, only to stop when Blaine pushed him back - feebly, but enough to get the message across. Kurt swallowed, nodded, and kept talking. “I love you. So, so much. I think since the day after Puck's party. I love you and I need you and...if I hurt you again, I'll die.”
“Hurt me again?” Blaine let out a short bark of slightly bitter laughter. He still wasn't sure he wasn't hallucinating all of this. “Not a chance. You have totally exhausted your quota of breakups. You're not allowed to do it again.”
“Absolutely. Yes, honestly, anything you want, I'm yours,” Kurt vowed, tangling his fingers together and holding them under his chin. “Anything.”
“It's...” He couldn't believe he was about to say it. “It's not that easy,” Blaine blurted. “You gave me a pen.”
Kurt looked down. “I know. I...I'm not asking you to forgive me. Just to give me a chance to earn that. To...to deserve you. I just want to try again, Blaine. God, my timing is horrible on this, I wanted the time to be right. But the time is never right. When did I become a person who doesn't get things right?”
His guilt and distress were almost a living presence between them. Blaine reached over and touched Kurt's knee. “Hey,” he murmured softly. “I'm not saying no. Just...Kurt. Did you mean it when you said you needed me? Or...” Stopping to take a breath, he swallowed back an acid lump in his throat. “Did you just need someone? No. Wait. Forget I asked.” He rubbed at his head, sighing. “I don't care.”
“Well, I care. It's you, Blaine. Always you.” Kurt looked up, expression firm with determination. “I know I have to prove it. I want to prove it. I just need the opportunity.”
Blaine considered it for a long time, never taking his eyes off of Kurt's face. As much as he'd wanted exactly this moment, he'd never anticipated how terrifying it would be to get it. Was surprised at how much he was resisting simply saying Yes, I'll do it, I want you back.
But if he didn't take this chance, what was the point of the last string of painful days of fighting for it?
Finally, Blaine inched over and gently pulled Kurt's hands apart so that he could wrap his own arms around his waist. Leaning his head against Kurt's chest, he closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. “Say it again.”
Kurt's voice was puzzled. “Say what?”
“Tell me you love me.”
“I love you.” Kurt's arms came around to hold him close, his hands stroking up and down Blaine's back. “I love you, I love you...how many times do I have to say it?”
Blaine felt his lips turn up in a smile. This was actually happening. He was scared to death but wanted it so, so much. “One more time would be nice.”
“I love you.”
“Okay.” He nodded, lapsing into silence, listening to Kurt's heartbeat. The summer sun warmed their backs and heads, melted Blaine into a lazy puddle of cautious happiness.
“What does okay mean?” Kurt's voice over his head was a confused whisper threaded with hope. “Is it...”
Blaine's smile grew wider. “It means you get a chance. I'll give you your chance.”
Kurt's arms around him were abruptly tighter, his sigh of relief rocking them both. “I'll do anything. Anything.”
“And I'll let you. You can start by taking me home.” He nudged Kurt up until the other boy was standing, then held his arms up and let himself be tugged up to his own feet. “I think it's your turn to nurse me back to health.”
...Chapter Seventeen...
Media: Fic
Author: a_glass_parade (GlassParade)
Beta: idoltina, additional support from gameboycolor
Rating: PG-13 to mild R
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine, reference to past Quinn/Finn and current Rachel/Finn
Genre: Romance, AU, Movie Adaptations
Warnings: Mentions of attempted suicide.
Spoilers: While events and references from all three seasons of Glee may be adapted and worked into the story occasionally, it's otherwise fully AU.
Word Count: Currently 88,000+ (WHAT. EVEN.)
Summary: Blaine Anderson is the easy going skateboarding slacker who's carried a torch for sheltered class Valedictorian Kurt Hummel for the last year. On the day they graduate from high school, he decides to do something about it. There's no way they should work. Everything will conspire against them. Can this unlikely pairing prevail?
Additional Notes: gameboycolor and naderegen wanted 90's Klaine. I suggested updating Cameron Crowe's iconic movie "Say Anything" to 1998 and making Blaine and Kurt into an analogue of Lloyd and Diane's star-crossed romance. This very loose adaptation, for better or for worse, is the result. Title is from the song "All I Want" by Toad the Wet Sprocket.
Connie was waiting by the ER doors for Kurt when he ran in, and she deftly caught him by the arm when he raced by. “Whoa there, partner,” she drawled, dragging him to a halt. “Chill.”
“Where's my dad? What's wrong with him? Is he okay?” Kurt couldn't stop babbling in his panic, the same panic that got him to Lima General through more red lights than he cared to remember. At least no cops had seen him. “Please, Connie.”
“You know I have to let Dr. Lopez tell you, Kurt.” She was gentle but firm as she steered him to one of the chairs and forced him to sit down. “He's alive. Breathe for me. I'll page Dr. Lopez and come back to sit with you, okay?”
He nodded and watched her walk over to the nurses' station to pick up the phone. It felt like he'd had ten cups of coffee in the last fifteen minutes, he was so amped up on adrenaline and fear. Looking at his hands, Kurt could see he was trembling like a leaf.
Smaller hands covered his, stilling the tremor. Kurt looked up into Connie's warm, worried hazel eyes. “Can't you tell me something?” he begged. “Where was he brought in from?”
“I can't, Kurt. I really, really can't. It has to be the doctor.” She bit her lip as she gazed at him, apology in her eyes. “Honestly, Dr. Lopez should be here any moment. He'll tell you everything.”
“You told me last time we were here that he was stable, you didn't say that this time,” he fretted, willing his knees to stop jumping as he shook with nerves. “You just said he was alive.”
“He is alive.” Connie took the seat next to him, keeping her hands firmly on his. “Kurt, I wouldn't lie to you about that. He is alive.”
“But you can't say he's stable.” It was a statement, not a question, and his heart fell as she looked away. He pulled his hands away and rubbed at his face, trying to redirect his thoughts from the morbid. “He must have gone to the shop. His car wasn't at the house. God, why would he have gone to the shop?”
“Breathe, Kurt. Please. Don't work yourself up any more. Come on, look at me.” She reached up and turned his face so that they made eye contact. “Come on, Kurt. In, out. In, out. Don't make me get you a bed in with your dad. In, out.”
Gradually, he came down from his panic and began to think again. “I should call Aunt Sarah.”
“Why don't you wait until you have more news to give her?” Connie patted his arm and pointed down the hallway. “Look, here comes Dr. Lopez now. I'll give you -”
“No.” Kurt grabbed at her arm as she began to stand up, seized her hand and held tight. “Stay. Please. Don't leave me, Connie.”
“Okay. I won't.” She sat back down and put an arm around his shoulders as he nervously watched the approaching cardiologist.
“Kurt.” Dr. Lopez was sober as he walked up, chart in hand. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”
Kurt bolted up to his feet, dragging Connie with him. “What's wrong? Why was he brought in? Where was he? Is he okay?”
“He was brought in from the tire shop, I'm afraid.” Dr. Lopez opened the chart and glanced at it, frowning in disapproval. “Now, I've spoken with Diane Johansson and she told me that she had strictly forbidden a return to work at this time. Do you know why he was there?”
“No. I don't.” Kurt shook his head, gripping Connie's hand more tightly. “He waited until I left the house to go, I have no idea what he was thinking.”
The cardiologist nodded. “Okay. Well, apparently he was working on a tire change when he had a heart attack. That was bad enough in itself, but he went down pretty hard before anyone knew what was happening and he hit his head. There's bruising and...” He paused, taking a deep breath before going on. “He appears to be in a coma, Kurt. I'm sorry.”
The world felt as if it were spinning around him, and only Connie's grip on his hand kept Kurt anchored. “Do you know...is he going to...”
“Right now things look...” The doctor hesitated, clearly unhappy. “We're monitoring him, and we'll do all we can, Kurt. I'm sorry I don't have better news for you.” Dr. Lopez patted him on the arm in sympathy and sighed. “I can't let you back in the ICU now, either, not at the moment. Probably not today, if I am being honest.”
“Oh, my God.” Kurt fell back into his chair, stunned. “I can't see him? I can't stay with him?”
“I'm sorry.” And Dr. Lopez did look regretful as he repeated his apology. “I'm going back to check on him now. If anything changes, we can call you at home.”
Kurt looked between doctor and nurse, feeling increasingly frantic again. “Wait, I can't even stay out here?”
“I wouldn't recommend it, honey.” Connie sat back down and hugged him. “You heard him, they probably won't even let you back there today. You might as well go home, you won't be comfortable here. Maybe you can call your aunt now? She can come stay with you?”
“No, she's got her summer job, I can call her but she can't stay with me.” He bounced up and began to pace the room, twisting his fingers. “It's fine. It's fine. I don't need anyone to stay with me. This is all fine. It's going to be fine. I don't even need to go home, I will be just fine here. The chairs are really comfortable.”
He didn't see Connie cast a significant look at Dr. Lopez, and didn't even really register the cardiologist nodding and walking back to the ICU. He paced the floor, calculating how long he'd be willing to wear the same clothes and whether he could manage a shower somewhere. Would the Prell 2 in 1 shampoo stuff be able to do a whole lot of damage to his hair if he only used it once? He was pretty sure that was all the gift shop sold.
Connie stepped in front of him and arrested his repetitive motion by the simple expedient of putting her hands up so that he ran right into her. The shock jolted him out of his circular thoughts, making him shake his head to try and get back to some semblance of reason. “What?” he asked, rather stupidly.
“You cannot stay here. I will not let you,” she informed him, her tone brooking no argument. “And the more you say 'fine' the less I feel like you actually are, in fact, fine. I don't want you alone tonight.”
Kurt wasn't following. “So...do...you want to stay with me?” He felt a lot slower than usual. It must be the shock. But why would Connie want to stay with him? She probably didn't really like him, he realized, and the thought made him unaccountably sad.
“Well, I would, but no, I was actually thinking you could ask my brother.” She tipped her head to the side and looked up at him, waiting for his response.
He was even more confused now. “Blaine?”
“No, my other little brother that up till now you've never met. Of course Blaine.” Connie shook her head. “He'd want to, Kurt.”
“But why would you suggest it? Why would you want me anywhere near him?” Wretchedly, Kurt gave in to the desire to pull at his hair and tried to understand. “I mean, I was going to go see him. Soon. Really. But I can't go now and why would you want me to, don't you want to kill me?”
“Wow. Again, breathe.” She grabbed his arms and held him in place. “No, I do not want to kill you. I did want to smack you around a little, but...you know, I kind of understand why you did what you did. I think it's dumb and I am quite sure I am not the only one, but I get it.”
He shook his head to clear it. “You do?”
“Yeah. Your dad's a heart patient and you're leaving for England, and things are going wrong and you think he should be your priority. That's noble. Stupidly noble, but noble all the same.” Connie looked up at him, keeping her eyes on his and choosing her words carefully. “I know you didn't do it because you wanted to hurt my brother. Blaine knows that, too. That's why he still wants you back. Trust me, if he thought for one second you didn't feel a even a little spark still, he wouldn't have gone to your house with that radio last week.”
“You know about that?” The memory made Kurt smile even as it twisted the knife in his heart.
“Please. I know everything.” She gently socked him in the arm with her fist and gave him a half-grin. “I saw you and Blaine together a hundred times over the summer. It was obvious how you felt about him then, and it's not something you would set aside lightly. If at all. If you still care about him and you really want him back, you have the chance right now to do it, and you might as well take it.”
“But my dad...” He trailed off, uncertain.
“Is obviously going to do what he wants, when he wants, and clearly no amount of watching over by you is going to change him. Kurt...” Connie took a deep breath. “You can't let this rule your life. Maybe this is your sign to let go a little. You gave up a lot and this...it still happened. Okay?” Her eyes searched his, wanting him to understand. “Is that making sense?”
Kurt nodded, slowly. “It...yes...but...Connie, I can't go to Blaine now. He's just going to think it's because of my dad.”
“Well, he won't be wrong.” She shrugged. “But he knows you, Kurt. He'll know that's not the only reason. You know he's not stupid. And you have got to know by now how deep his feelings for you run. He will see beneath the surface.”
“I'm going to England soon.” It was the last roadblock, and even then he knew it wasn't much of one.
“So you go now and you maximize every second you have and stop worrying. You can't control everything, Kurt, and if you keep trying you're just going to go nuts. Let go.” Her eyes never left his, her hand still a comforting weight on his arm. “This thing you have with my brother is a good thing. A lot of people never get a first crack at it, let alone the second and third chance you're getting. I would know.” She slipped her hand down and took his, holding it tight. “Embrace this chance. Take a breath and let it happen.”
Kurt closed his eyes and breathed in, out, slow and even. When he blinked again, Connie was still there. “You're sure he'd take me back?”
“You know he would.” Connie pulled him towards the ER doors. “He's at the skate park. Go, Kurt.”
He couldn't get to his car fast enough.
“So is Nick speaking to you yet?” Jeff adjusted the strap on his helmet as he and Blaine waited at the top of the half-pipe for Mike to finish his run. Blaine scoffed, taking off his own helmet to shake out the sweat in his curls.
“Please, dude, it's only been two days since I spanked his ass in Cincy, just like I told him I would.” Blaine stretched his arms over his head, grinning. “I'll give him a few more days to come to terms with it.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Jeff clapped him on the back. “You look like you're doing better, after the meet and all. You're...smiling. Are you better? Has Kurt called?”
Blaine thought about it, squinting at the blue summer sky. “No, Kurt hasn't called, but...yeah, I'm better, kind of,” he replied slowly, considering. “I mean, right now I'm better. Today. I'm not dumb enough to think a week or two is enough time to get over it but...today, I'm better. And maybe Kurt will come back around or maybe he won't, but today I'm okay with whatever happens.”
He was surprised to find that he really did mean it. It still felt a little like biting down on a tooth with an exposed nerve, but...less. A little. Enough that he felt okay to function. Enough that he wasn't cursing the hope that Kurt would come back, not today at least.
Sometimes Blaine thought that hope would never die. And he didn't quite want it to. As much as it pained him to admit it, he'd still take Kurt back. He still believed that Kurt loved him, even if he'd never said it. Blaine was even ready to forgive the pen thing. He thought he understood where Kurt had been coming from with it. Maybe.
Well. No. No, that still baffled him.
This wasn't getting him anywhere. He shook his head and tuned back into Jeff. “Good,” his friend was saying with a cheery nod, leaning in for a backslapper of a hug. “It's good. I hope he comes back around, obviously, but, you know, good that you're better, at least.”
“Right now it's good to just not be curled up on the couch.” Blaine hugged Jeff back. “It is also good to know I can win meets despite putting on ten pounds of sad pizza eating weight in two weeks, Jesus.”
“I think that's what really pissed Nick off, yeah,” Jeff agreed with a laugh. “I still wish you had been able to see his face when you pulled off that frontside rock and roll.”
“Wes said that Nick was particularly harsh about the size of my ass on that one, so I must have been pretty awesome.” Grinning, Blaine stuck out his tongue in a noisy raspberry and made Jeff laugh again. “Well, shit, I know I was, I went home with the trophy and the cash.” With a wink, he stepped back, cupping his hands around his mouth to yell at Mike. “Come on, Chang, other people want to practice, too!”
Mike gave a high sign to indicate he'd heard Blaine and executed a perfect 720 before sliding back down and across the pipe to land back on the table with them. “Sorry, man. I was in the zone.”
“No problem. I just want to get in one last try at making my handstand stall a little longer before I have to go home.” Blaine grinned and scooted his board over the lip of the table, prepping to drop in. He glanced down at Quinn, sitting on the hood of her car scribbling in her notebook. “Quincy! Last run for me and Jeff, then you want to go to Dairy Queen?”
She waved up and nodded. “Yeah, absolutely.”
“Okay.” He looked over at Jeff and gave him a thumbs up. “Good?”
“Good.” Jeff nodded. “I'll go right after you.”
“Your helmet, dude.” Mike picked it up from where it lay on the plywood and handed it over. Blaine shuddered.
“Yikes. Thanks, man. That could have been a disaster.” Shaking his head once more to get more sweat off, Blaine had the helmet positioned over his head when, out of nowhere, he heard it. The voice he had never really thought he'd hear again any time soon.
“Blaine?”
The sound of Kurt saying his name, so welcome but so unexpected, startled Blaine. With a rush of fear, he felt his skateboard slip under his feet as he jumped in surprise, felt his helmet fall from his hands as he flailed in vain to try and stay atop the table. His board shot out from under him as he slid down the side of the pipe, his back and then his head thumping hard against the sturdy wood surface.
Everything went black as he tumbled down the vert into the flat.
“Is he okay?”
Blaine blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the sun being directly above his face, instead of behind his head. His head, which hurt like a motherfucker right at this moment. He winced at it, and his eyes came slowly into focus to see Kurt, who had asked the question, hovering anxiously over him. “Hurts,” he mumbled, his tongue feeling thick. “Ow.”
“Dude, stay still.” Jeff was just as anxious as Kurt, kneeling down right next to him. “Do you want us to call an ambulance or take you to the hospital?”
“No...ugh...” Blaine raised a hand to cover his eyes. “Sun hurts. Everything hurts. Why'm I hurt?”
Jeff exchanged a worried look with Kurt before replying. “You slipped, man. Fell right down the pipe and scared the shit out of all of us. You didn't have your helmet back on, so you hit your head and it knocked you out.” He chewed on his lower lip. “You might have a concussion. We should take you to Lima General.”
“No. Said no.” Peeking through his fingers, his eyes zeroed in on the person he wanted most in the world to see. “Kurt?”
“I'm here.” Kurt grabbed his free hand gently. “Blaine, I am so sorry. For everything, but right now, especially this. Ouch! Quinn!”
She had punched him right in the arm. “You don't yell at a skater on the edge of the table, you idiot! What the fuck were you thinking? You could have killed him!”
“Leave 'im 'lone, Quincy,” Blaine mumbled. His ankle was throbbing, but when he twitched it experimentally, it didn't seem broken. It wasn't feeling particularly healthy, but it wasn't broken. Against everyone's protests, he slowly pushed himself to sitting, closing his eyes as the world spun. “He didn't know.”
“Common sense,” she muttered, but let up and confined herself to glaring at Kurt before getting to her feet and stomping off back to her car.
Jeff reached out a cautious hand. “Hospital?”
“No.” Blaine said again. He shook his head, but very slowly and carefully so as to not make the pain worse. His eyes swam a little. “Well, maybe. I don't know. Just...go with Quinn for now. You and Mike. I want to talk to Kurt.” A groan from Kurt made him turn slowly so he could see him better. “Kurt. Why...”
“Well, ironically,” Kurt mumbled, sniffling a little as Jeff and Mike walked away, “I was just coming from the hospital.”
Blaine frowned. “Huh? Are you okay?”
“Yes! Yes, I'm fine...obviously. I'm here.” Sitting back on his heels, Kurt wrapped his arms around himself. “It's my dad. Again. But worse. I can't...he...”
“Spit it out,” Blaine sighed. His head hurt too much to follow along with Kurt's ramblings, though he desperately wanted to know what was going on.
“He went to work, like an idiot, and he had a heart attack, and he hit his head too and now he's in a coma.” The words tumbled out of Kurt in a rush. “And I wouldn't have come Blaine, not today I really wouldn't have, but I intended to come to you some time because I was an idiot and I know that. Except then this happened, and they won't let me stay in the ER until it's okay for me to see him, and your sister said I should just go ahead and come talk to you now and oh, God, Connie is so going to kill me, I was supposed to talk to you not injure you and -”
“Too much,” groaned Blaine, putting his hand back over his eyes. “Slow down. Make sense. Please.” Somewhere in there it sounded like his inextinguishable hope was going to be fulfilled - but he didn't dare believe it. Not yet.
He heard Kurt take a deep breath, then another, and another before he spoke again. “My father is in the hospital again,” he said simply, directly, and with only a little distress straining his voice. “He's in a coma. And...and I can't do this alone, Blaine. I shouldn't have even tried. It was all going to happen no matter what I did or what I gave up.”
“Right...” Blaine peered through his fingers, squinting to get a good look at Kurt's earnest, worried face through a gray haze of head pain. A part of him was wondering if he was still blacked out and this was a concussion dream. Did those even exist? “So what does that mean? I don't, I'm not...Kurt, I hit my head, please, spell it out.”
“It means I want to try again. If you do.” Kurt's hand trembled a little as it came to rest on Blaine's arm. His eyes were wide and bright and full of hope and fear. “It's horrible timing, I know, but I need you so much right now. I was an idiot. Completely. I was wrong to break up with you, and so wrong doing it the way I did. And I am so, so sorry for all of it.” He was perched warily, as if ready to take flight while he waited for Blaine's response. Another heavy breath prefaced his next words. “Blaine, please. I love you.”
It hurt so much to think. All he could understand was that Kurt was here and wanted to be here, wanted to talk to him. Needed him. Wait. “...did you just say you loved me?”
“Yes.” Shuffling forward, Kurt tried to wrap his arms around him, only to stop when Blaine pushed him back - feebly, but enough to get the message across. Kurt swallowed, nodded, and kept talking. “I love you. So, so much. I think since the day after Puck's party. I love you and I need you and...if I hurt you again, I'll die.”
“Hurt me again?” Blaine let out a short bark of slightly bitter laughter. He still wasn't sure he wasn't hallucinating all of this. “Not a chance. You have totally exhausted your quota of breakups. You're not allowed to do it again.”
“Absolutely. Yes, honestly, anything you want, I'm yours,” Kurt vowed, tangling his fingers together and holding them under his chin. “Anything.”
“It's...” He couldn't believe he was about to say it. “It's not that easy,” Blaine blurted. “You gave me a pen.”
Kurt looked down. “I know. I...I'm not asking you to forgive me. Just to give me a chance to earn that. To...to deserve you. I just want to try again, Blaine. God, my timing is horrible on this, I wanted the time to be right. But the time is never right. When did I become a person who doesn't get things right?”
His guilt and distress were almost a living presence between them. Blaine reached over and touched Kurt's knee. “Hey,” he murmured softly. “I'm not saying no. Just...Kurt. Did you mean it when you said you needed me? Or...” Stopping to take a breath, he swallowed back an acid lump in his throat. “Did you just need someone? No. Wait. Forget I asked.” He rubbed at his head, sighing. “I don't care.”
“Well, I care. It's you, Blaine. Always you.” Kurt looked up, expression firm with determination. “I know I have to prove it. I want to prove it. I just need the opportunity.”
Blaine considered it for a long time, never taking his eyes off of Kurt's face. As much as he'd wanted exactly this moment, he'd never anticipated how terrifying it would be to get it. Was surprised at how much he was resisting simply saying Yes, I'll do it, I want you back.
But if he didn't take this chance, what was the point of the last string of painful days of fighting for it?
Finally, Blaine inched over and gently pulled Kurt's hands apart so that he could wrap his own arms around his waist. Leaning his head against Kurt's chest, he closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. “Say it again.”
Kurt's voice was puzzled. “Say what?”
“Tell me you love me.”
“I love you.” Kurt's arms came around to hold him close, his hands stroking up and down Blaine's back. “I love you, I love you...how many times do I have to say it?”
Blaine felt his lips turn up in a smile. This was actually happening. He was scared to death but wanted it so, so much. “One more time would be nice.”
“I love you.”
“Okay.” He nodded, lapsing into silence, listening to Kurt's heartbeat. The summer sun warmed their backs and heads, melted Blaine into a lazy puddle of cautious happiness.
“What does okay mean?” Kurt's voice over his head was a confused whisper threaded with hope. “Is it...”
Blaine's smile grew wider. “It means you get a chance. I'll give you your chance.”
Kurt's arms around him were abruptly tighter, his sigh of relief rocking them both. “I'll do anything. Anything.”
“And I'll let you. You can start by taking me home.” He nudged Kurt up until the other boy was standing, then held his arms up and let himself be tugged up to his own feet. “I think it's your turn to nurse me back to health.”
...Chapter Seventeen...