The phone wakes Kurt at eight-thirty. He groans and hides his face in the pillow, but the ringing continues, high pitched and incessant. He still sets certain songs to all of his personal contacts, but this is the default ringtone, so he doesn’t know who the hell thinks it’s okay to call him at this time, which makes it worse - at least he’s used to Rachel calling at ungodly hours just to vent over various injustices. He had planned to actually sleep in a couple hours on his day off before dropping Amelia off at kindergarten and this anonymous person is ruining it.

Ignoring the sound proves fruitless, and somehow it gets through his sleep-muddled brain that the sound is going to wake Amelia, who has just gotten through her first full night of sleep since he brought her home one week ago. He reaches blindly for the phone on his bedside table, fumbling with it a little before he answers the call. “H’llo?” He sits up and yawns, voice slurred from sleep.

“Is this Mr. Hummel-Anderson speaking?” An unfamiliar voice, young and female, speaks up.

“Just Hummel,” he corrects automatically, rolling his shoulders back to work out the kinks from sleep. He needs a good massage, he hasn’t had one in ages - well, not since Blaine used to give them to him, he realizes, the thought making his heart clench a little bit. “Um, sorry, who is this?”

The girl clears her throat. “I’m calling from the New York City General Hospital. Your name was first on the list of names to call, so…” She trails off. Kurt automatically panics at the mention of the word hospital, his mind immediately turning to his father - but even if Burt was in the hospital it wouldn’t be in New York, of course.

“What is this about?” He demands. “Who’s in the hospital?”

“Blaine Hummel-Anderson, sir.” Kurt blinks, the shock like a bucket of ice water thrown over his head. He opens his mouth a few times without any sound coming out. The girl takes it as a cue to keep talking. “I understand that you and Mr. Hummel-Anderson are no longer married, but there was no way to get in touch with his parents, so his daughter is the closest family he has. And, well, that leads to you.”

Kurt rubs at the bridge of his nose. If he wasn’t awake before he surely is now. “Is Blaine okay?” He asks. “What happened?”

“He tried to commit suicide last night.”

There’s a ringing in his ears, drowning out any other sound. He can’t remember how to breathe properly, his hands clenching and unclenching in the comforter beside him. This can’t be happening. It can’t be real. He would say that he’s dreaming, but his subconscious would have to be truly sick to come up with this.

“…Mr. Hummel-Anderson?”

Kurt shakes his head and tries to remember how to speak. “I - yes, I’m here. I’m sorry - he tried to kill himself?” Kurt’s voice comes out sounding strangled, and he doesn’t bother trying to correct her this time. Why? What would drive him to do that? He had assumed that Blaine had gotten alcohol poisoning or something, he’s actually surprised that it hasn’t happened yet, but - suicide?

“I’m afraid so, sir. They only just now got him stabilized, but he should be fine.”

He can finally draw a breath, though he hadn’t realized that he’d actually stopped breathing. “Thank god,” he whispers, closing his eyes. The girl continues as if he hadn’t spoken.

“Once he’s released from our care he’ll have to stay with family for a certain amount of time, to ensure that he’ll be safe and won’t try this again. Seeing as his immediate family is unavailable, and he doesn’t have anyone listed as an emergency contact, I’m afraid you and your daughter are the closest to family that he has, now.”

“I…” Kurt trails off, mind whirling. It’s too much to process so early in the morning, and he’s fairly sure that he’s actually in shock. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” he says carefully, once he’s had a moment to collect his thoughts. “We’ve just been through a very messy divorce, and…” Even as he says it, he wonders why he automatically tried to back out. It’s not as though he doesn’t want to make sure Blaine is all right, of course he does. Just because they aren’t together doesn’t mean he doesn’t care anymore. But having Blaine live here?

“I understand sir, but either he stays with you or goes to a rehabilitation clinic. He’ll have a therapist there, of course, and they can help him to control his alcoholism.”

“No, no, he can’t do that,” Kurt says as he climbs out of bed, searching through his closet for clean pants. “He already tried rehab, a few years ago. If anything, it made things worse. There’s no way he’ll go back there.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hummel-Anderson, but if you can’t take him in, rehab is his only option.”

Kurt breaths in deep, trying to block out images of Blaine in a hospital bed, or of Blaine with slit wrists or a gun to his own head. Unfortunately the only ways he can keep those unwelcome thoughts out are, though he has already refused the offer, where he would put Blaine if he stayed here, and how it would all work. It would make Amelia happy, certainly, and it was true that rehab was a bad place for Blaine to be, and should he take some time off work to make sure he’s okay and - God, why is he even considering this? They’re divorced - there’s no way this could work. They would rip each other’s throats out after a day.

“Either way,” the girl continues, “he’ll need you to come check him out of the hospital. It’s just our policy.”

“I - yes, of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he says, and hangs up. It’s not until he lets the phone drop from his hand and onto the bed that he realizes he’s shaking, and he closes his eyes and breathes, steady and slow, to try to calm himself. None of it feels real yet, the fact that Blaine could have died - god, that he wanted to die - hasn’t fully registered. It probably won’t until he gets to the hospital. He’ll drop Amelia off at kindergarten on the way, and - and call Rachel to pick her up and watch her for a while or something, she owes him. And he’ll go see Blaine, see that he’s okay and alive with his own eyes. He’ll find some way he can help. Not inviting Blaine into his home, perhaps, he just doesn’t know how that can work, but - there has to be something.

He can barely start the car with the way his hands are still shaking.

--

Kurt will forever gag at the smell of hospitals. He’ll always remember it, too, and always associate the clean, sterile smell with death. This is the third time someone he loves (or has loved, he corrects himself, once loved, when he lets himself wonder if he still loves Blaine he feels the phantom impact of a hand on his cheek and can’t think about it a second longer) has been in the hospital and he knows that it won’t be the last. The walk to Blaine’s room, once he answer’s the nurse’s multitude of questions about his connection to Blaine, is like a nightmare come to life.

He finds Blaine’s room, and the door is already open, but he knocks anyway, alerting the nurse fussing around the single bed in the room and the doctor, whose voice is soft and soothing as he speaks. They both block Blaine from view until the doctor turns around at the sound of the knock.

“H-hello,” Kurt says, terrified for reasons he can’t explain. “I’m… here to see Blaine?”

“Of course.” The doctor doesn’t let him in immidiately, however, leaving the room and closing the door behind him. He’s taller than Kurt and a little intimidating.“You’re Mr. Hummel-Anderson, I presume?”

“Just Hummel,” Kurt says, mostly on instinct. “Is he…”

“He’s going to be fine.” Kurt feels himself relax, breathing easier already. “I’m glad you came. It’s important for him to have someone to turn to at a time like this, even if he still has to go to rehab.”

Kurt nods, trying to peer over the doctor’s shoulder even though he knows that he’ll only see the door there. “I’d like to see him.”

“I’ll give you a moment alone.” The doctor opened the door again, finally stepping aside to let Kurt in. “Just call for the nurse when you need anything at all, Blaine.”

“Yeah.” Blaine’s voice is small and rough. Even after the doctor leaves, Kurt lingers at the door. He has to avert his eyes as the nurse finishes wrapping fresh bandages up Blaine’s arms, shuddering at the thought of what must be underneath. Blaine doesn’t look at him until the nurse leaves and Kurt finds the strength to step inside.

He doesn’t know what to do, what he can do. Should he sit down in the hard plastic chair next to Blaine’s bed, or continue standing there awkwardly? And what can he possibly say that won’t sound entirely condescending or unsympathetic? Not that he doesn’t sympathize, but he still doesn’t know how to say so. In the end, he stays standing, wringing his hands in front of him, and Blaine just watches him in silence the entire time. His eyes are glassy, with dark circles underneath, and the mint-green hospital gown they’ve stuck him in just makes him look thinner and sicklier. Kurt thinks he should have seen that something was wrong, at least tried to get Blaine some help before it was too late, even if he wouldn’t have accepted it. Hindsight is a bitch, and he feels so, so stupid now.

“I’m glad you’re… okay,” he finally says, sounding too loud in the silent room, and it’s not right, not really. Blaine isn’t okay and he knows that. Blaine blinks, slowly, and he looks like he’s seeing Kurt standing there for the first time.

“Why?” Blaine croaks. Kurt’s mouth falls open, but no sound escapes. Blaine doesn’t seem to expect an answer, finally breaking eye contact to stare out the window as though he wants to fly out through it. “You really don’t have to be here.”

“Of course I do. I was the only person they could track down to call, I’m not - I couldn’t just leave you alone.” He finally sits down. “Believe it or not, I do still care.” Blaine doesn’t reply. He picks at the corner of his bandages, stares at his arms detachedly. “You don’t have to talk about it - I get it, I do -“

“You don’t.”

“What?”

Blaine closes his eyes and draws in a breath that seems physically painful. “You don’t get it.”

“Then help me out here, Blaine. I just - I don’t understand why.”

“Yeah, no offense, but I’m not going to discuss it with you,” Blaine scoffs. “We don’t talk, remember? We never talk about anything anymore. Forgive me if I don’t feel like starting now.”

It hurts a lot more than it should, especially because he’s right. “Is it something about me?” Kurt asks quietly. “Or - god, because of Amelia?”

“Can you please just go? I’m tired and I don’t want visitors who are here just because they feel obligated to be.” Blaine turns away, his face hidden from view. Kurt stays in his chair, fidgeting and wondering what he should do. It's not even that he feels ‘obligated’ to be here - except it kind of is, but not the way he thinks Blaine means. It’s just -

He’s the only person they could call. No one else is going to come to make sure Blaine is all right; no one else would come to check Blaine out of the hospital. He’s literally the only thing Blaine has right now whether Blaine likes it or not, him and Amelia, and fuck, he doesn’t even really have them anymore. No matter how alone Kurt has felt in the past and even recently, he’s always had someone. Blaine never lets it show but Kurt knows that it hurts.

The same nurse returns after a few minutes with a little stack of brochures in her hand. Kurt catches a glance at one of them as she passes by, and immediately feels sick.

“I know this is probably the last thing you want to think about right now, honey,” the nurse, whose nametag reads Clara, says gently. She reminds Kurt of Carole, a little. “But you need to start thinking about where you’re going to go after you leave us. Mr. Hummel has already expressed that you can’t stay with him…” She glances at him, and Kurt looks down at the floor, face flushed in unexplainable embarrassment. “Here are some brochures for local rehabilitation clinics that can help you.”

Blaine takes them without a word, laying them out in front of him on the bed but obviously not really looking at them. The blank expression he wears scares Kurt more than anything. He remembers the way Blaine had looked after getting out of rehab the first time, almost disturbed somehow, and how the very first thing he’d done was drink until he literally passed out on the floor. Maybe they can help him, maybe not, but Kurt can’t imagine Blaine letting them, complete strangers, help him.

He opens his mouth before the decision is even fully formed in his mind. “That won’t be necessary,” he says, leaning forward and scooping up the brochures to hand back to her. Clara raises her eyebrows, and Blaine stares up at him. He’s crazy, he must be insane to go along with this - but being insane is probably better than the guilt he would face if he didn’t. “I’ve changed my mind. Blaine will stay with me.”

Clara smiles. “Well, good. In my experience the patients always recover faster when they’re with their loved ones.” Kurt doesn’t miss the way Blaine flinches. “There will be some paperwork to fill out, but he should be fine to leave by this evening at the latest.”

“Okay.” Kurt takes a deep breath. He’s going to have to go grocery shopping, if he’ll be feeding three now, and Blaine will need some things, and - fuck, this is going to be complicated, he realizes. How long will it take them to be at each other’s throats? He gives it a week, possibly less, but it will be worth it. As long as he can make sure Blaine is okay. “Um… Blaine? Should I… grab some stuff for you? From your house…?” He trails off uncertainly.

Blaine hesitates, looks like he wants to argue, but then he seems to wilt, leaning back against his pillows with a sigh. “Just… clothes and shit,” he mutters. “Whatever.”

“Right.” Kurt stands up. “Then I’ll just… I’ll go get those. And then I’ll come back, and we’ll check you out of here and… and we’ll go home.”

He wishes that Blaine would stop looking at him that way he is, with that totally unreadable expression. It only cements in his mind that he doesn’t know Blaine anymore, not really. Once upon a time, they had been able to read each other like a book, but now… now Blaine is closed to him, even more of an enigma than the first day they’d met, and he doesn’t know when that happened.

“Yeah. Home.” Blaine echoes. Kurt swallows and tries to force a smile, and wonders what exactly he’s getting himself into.

�