Beeping. There's a beeping sound. There's muffled voices. There's coughing and moaning, talking and beeping. Kurt tries to open his eyes, but he's scared. His head hurts, but he feels like he's floating. At least his stomach feels empty.

Slowly he peels open his eyes, bright, white light hitting his poor, hurting eyes, sending more pain shots through his already hurting head. He feels cold, he's covered with a way too thin blanket, that doesn't smell like Blaine. It's doesn't even smell like him. It smells like chemicals and medicine and aliens.

He blinks once and slowly lifts his arm. It's like his arm isn't a part of his body. It feels heavy and unfamiliar and weak. He can see the cuts, the fat and a needle. Kurt blinks. Why were they dripping fluid into his body? Panic starts to take over. What was in that bag? What were they pumping into his veins? Where the hell is he? Where is Blaine? Blaine has to come and get him. He's scared.

He slowly lifts up the blanket and looks down. He's not wearing a big sweater. He's not wearing any of his own clothes. There's an ugly, thin hospital gown where his oversized sweater should be. There are no pants to be found. At least he's still wearing his underwear, even though Kurt has no idea how long he's been here, so he wishes he could put on something clean.

He doesn't like that they undressed him without him knowing. Not one bit. Where is he? Who took off his clothes? Where did they leave his perfect, big sweater? Where is Blaine?

He shrieks when he hears a snore next to him. His voice doesn't sound like his own, though. It's raw and weak. Just like his body. When he turns his head, he can only see a curtain. He wonders who is sleeping there that he's not allowed to see. Or maybe they weren't allowed to see him. Poor, weak, fat, little Kurt. They probably didn't even want to see him. Disgusting, stupid pig. Poor little Kurt Hummel, who starves himself and cuts his skin open, so he can feel something. Trying to cut out the fat and the demons and the misery. Cut out his feelings, his fear, his thoughts, his life.

He looks around the room and realizes he's in a hospital. He doesn't remember getting here or why someone brought him here. Oh, right, he fell at the gym, while he was trying to make the fat disappear. Melt. Fall off his body. Turn into sweat and slide away. He's fine. He was just a bit dizzy. Why did they interrupt him? Where is Blaine?

His eyes search for the call button. With some difficulty, he raises his arm, reaches out and uses all his strength to press the button. He looks at the monitor next to his bed. He's connected to it with many weird wires. He wants them off. The stickers are cold on his skin. He wants to shower. He probably smells from the sweat he created at the gym.

"You called? Oh, Mr. Hummel. You're awake. That's good to see."

Apparently a young nurse has walked into the room. She moves too fast for Kurt to progress. He wants to yell at her to slow down, but he wants to save his voice for more important things.

"Where is Blaine?"

"Honey, I don't know who Blaine is, but visiting hours haven't started yet. I'm afraid you'll have to wait a bit. Let's go through your files, alright?"

Kurt blinks. No. That isn't alright. She didn't answer his question. He wants to know where Blaine is. He only wants to see Blaine.

"You were brought in yesterday, 11pm, after you passed out in the gym, do you remember that?"

"Yes.."

Damn. His voice sounds even more terrible than usual. It's not just high, it's squeaky and unlike his own voice.

"Alright, that's good. So, when you were brought in, you were slightly conscious, but we decided to give you something to sleep. You probably fell asleep between 11:30 and 12. We moved you to this room, changed you and checked if nothing was damaged after your fall. You seem to be fine, apart from being obviously underweight. After visiting hours, we will continue our check up. Then we will weight you."

Kurt's eyes widen. The beeping from the monitor speeds up.

"No! No, please, I'm fine. I just want to go home. You don't have to weight me, please."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hummel. You can't refuse. Your condition is serious, so we need the information. We'll keep it private, if that's what you wish, but the hospital needs to know the details."

Kurt doesn't agree. Not at all. He doesn't want strangers seeing and touching his body. He doesn't want to be tested or weighted or monitored. He wants that IV needle out of his hand, because it itches and it hurts when he moves his arm. He wants to go home, get back into his safe sweaters and be held by Blaine until he falls asleep. Hospitals remind him of his mother. And his father's heart attack. Of Blaine needing to get surgery for his eye. It reminds him of death and pain. He needs to get out.

"I'm fine. I want to go home."

His voice is shaking and weak, but he tries to keep his face as blank as possible. He can't show any emotion, because they'll lock him up and the demons will take over his head. He'll have to eat, but he can't allow that because he can't throw up. He tried several times after forced-dinner-with-Blaine. He only ended up crying, coughing and just as swollen and fat as before he forced his fingers down his throat.

"I'm afraid you have to stay until we've found a place for you."

"A place? I have an apartment. I live with Blaine. I'm fine. I want to go home. Please, get those things off."

The nurse shakes her head.

"I'm sorry, I can't do that. I need permission from the doctor and we still need your measurements. Visiting hours are starting in a minute, so I'll let you be. Call if you need anything."

She gestures at the call button and walks out of the room again. Kurt feels terrified, sick and vulnerable. They saw his body. They knew. They wouldn't let him go. His lies were pointless. They saw right through his fat, into his head. He is doomed.

"Kurtie?"

The voice sounds small and childish and scared, but he recognizes it anyway.

"Blaine?"

Blaine walks into the room, clutching his bag to his chest. He looks tired and worried. Kurt can just feel his boyfriend hasn't had any sleep at all. A wave of guilt hits him. If he wasn't so weak, he wouldn't have passed out. He wouldn't be here.

The slightly shorter boy shuffles into the room and takes place on the chair next to Kurt's bed. He looks pale and a bit nervous. His eyes scan the room - curious, but sad. His gaze stops at the machine that's attached to Kurt. The boy blinks and returns his attention to Kurt.

"Kurtie.. What- How are you feeling?"

Kurt blinks. He doesn't understand why Blaine keeps calling him the pet name, or why Blaine is so calm. Why he isn't yelling at him. Why his first question isn't 'Why did you lie to me?' or 'Why were you at that gym?' or maybe 'Why are you so stupid?'

He swallows and shrugs.

"My head hurts a bit. My whole body does, actually. I just want to go home. Please, take me home, Blaine."

Blaine looks sad and he shakes his head. He starts to take folders out of his bag. They look like brochures.

"Are we going on vacation, Blaine?"

"No, baby."

"What are those?"

Blaine takes a deep breath and locks his eyes with Kurt. He puts the brochures down on the small nightstand and takes Kurt's hand in his. Blaine's hands are warm, but slightly colder than usual.

"They're brochures for clinics. The doctors say.. I think it's best if you- They'll help you get better, Kurt."

It takes a few minutes for Kurt to understand what Blaine is saying. Clinics? Get better? Wait, he was being admitted to a clinic? Why?

"Blaine, I don't understand.."

"You're sick, Kurt. Really sick. What happened last night, shouldn't have happened and it can't happen again. Do you understand? If you want to get in shape by sporting, I won't hold you back. It's healthy. But you can't run on an empty stomach, while you're already underweight. You saw what happened, babe. I don't want to get any more calls of you passing out somewhere, while I don't even know where you are."

Kurt shakes his head and squeezes Blaine's hand.

"I'm fine, Blaine. I was stupid last night, but I promise I'll eat before I work out next time. Please, don't send me away. I just want to go home with you."

He's about to cry and his voice breaks slightly. He doesn't want to be fed until he's back to his old, 'healthy' (disgusting) weight. He didn't do all of this for nothing!

"Sht.. Baby.. I don't- I'm not trying to- I'm not sending you away, Kurt. I want you to get better and I can't do that by myself. I need you to be strong, okay? You need to agree, because they can't force you. I can't force you. But, please, do this for us. I can't watch you die. I'm no professional, Kurt. I thought I could fix you, but I don't know enough. These people can help you."

Blaine is crying and Kurt feels awful. He tries to get up, but his body won't work.

"Blainey.. Don't cry.. I'm fine."

"Stop lying, Kurt. That only makes it worse. Look, I get that you honestly believe you need to do all this shit to yourself. I don't know why, because you're fucking beautiful, but I know it's what the disease does to you. You're lying to yourself. And you just have to stay until you can think healthy again. Okay? For me."

Kurt nods. He's not really agreeing, but he wants Blaine to stop crying. He wants to do something right.

"Okay.."

Blaine smiles through his tears, grabbing Kurt's hand tighter.

"Really? Oh, Kurt. Thank you.. Thank you.."

The boy carefully pulls Kurt into a hug, trying to avoid getting stuck in the wires. When he pulls away, he picks up the brochures again.

"Let's look at these, okay? I want you to pick a place you agree on. It has to look nice, so you'll feel a bit more at home. I'll help you, Kurt. Let's get you better, okay?"

Kurt nods and Blaine helps him sit up, giving him the first brochure.

"Tell me what you think."

Kurt sighs and turns the first page.