Three hours later I was still just as completely in the dark in regards to Blaine's condition as I had been in the ambulance. He'd been rushed into theatre on arrival, and I'd been ushered into a small waiting room and given a mug of hot, sweet tea... and then promptly ignored until my father had arrived, demanding to know what was going on. He was simply told that as soon as they knew something, we'd know something... then we were led to the main Emergency Department waiting room, and asked to wait.

And so we waited.

The four of us sat in a line... my Dad and Carole to my left, and Finn to my right, slumped down low in his seat, stretched right out, his long legs crossed at the ankles, and taking up far too much of the aisle between the rows of chairs, his arms crossed gruffly across his chest. To an onlooker, he may have appeared unbearably bored... but I could feel the tension rolling off him in waves, and hear his teeth grinding in anger. Finn took his 'big brother' protector role very seriously, and I sensed that this attack on my sweet, gentle boyfriend was a great slap in the face to him. Finn had always had an amazing heart... unfortunately, it was only after he had it broken a couple of times that he began to appreciate just how precious it really was.

Wes and David sat opposite us, whispering quietly to each other. I had sent Wes a text from the ambulance, knowing that the prefect would be concerned when Blaine didn't show up at the dorms that night, but he had surprised me by arriving at the hospital, with David in tow, not long after my parents had arrived. I told him as much as I knew about Blaines condition... which, granted, wasn't much... and they had sat down with us to wait out his surgery, and hear the news that followed.

It was nearly midnight, and I was beginning to think the staff had forgotten about us altogether when I saw a tired looking Doctor making his way towards us. He eyed the six of us, then addressed my Father. "Are you here for Blaine Anderson?"

My Dad nodded, and we all sat up to pay very close attention. The Doctor took a seat, two down from Wes, and addressed us as a whole.

"Blaine is in recovery now. His condition is still critical, but stable. He's certainly a very strong young man, quite the fighter." He smiled lightly at us, trying to comfort us all.

Carole spoke up. "Is he going to be okay?" Her voice was shaking... and it occurred to me that this was the first time I'd heard her speak since we arrived at the hospital. My Dad slipped a hand into hers, squeezing it comfortingly.

The Doctor gave her a gentle smile. "Well, Blaine suffered extensive injuries in the attack. Aside from the broken arm, which we've set... and broken nose, which you already knew about, Blaine also has two fractured ribs, a punctured lung, and seven deep stab wounds to his torso..."

My Dads arms came around me at this, and pulled my head to his chest as I started sobbing brokenly. I heard his chest rumble as he spoke.

"Seven? We only saw two, in his abdomen? Where were the other five?"

I glanced up at the Doctor again... needing to hear this for myself. God, poor Blaine. I couldn't believe any of this... it had to be all some kind of sick joke. This couldn't be real.

The Doctors voice was even more grave as he continued.

"One was to his back, below the left shoulder blade, straight into his lung. The other four were to his groin. We've taken great care to try to repair the damage as best we can, but at this stage, it's too early to know what kind of nerve damage could have been done down there. Only time will tell, I'm afraid. The rest of his injuries are more superficial. He has a large gash from his lip to his chin, which we've had to stitch, and there were quite a few defensive wounds to his hands and arms, as well as extensive bruising to about 60% of his body. It will be a very long road to recovery for Blaine."

At this, he turned directly to my Dad and Carole, addressing only them. "Now, I understand that you are not actually Blaine's parents?"

My Dad shook his head. "No, we're not. They're not... ahh, in the picture." He said slowly. "We will look after Blaine."

The Doctor nodded, tight lipped. "You are aware that this is not going to be a short term commitment, aren't you? Blaine will most probably spend several weeks in hospital before he can be released, and then he must receive complete care until he has finished healing. There may very well also be psychological damage here too... at the very least, Blaine will require some counselling and physiotherapy. Are you sure you are up to that... because if you're not, we need to know now, so we can make arrangements for him to be placed temporarily in a nursing home..."

"No... it's okay." My Dad said kindly, giving me a small squeeze with the arm that was still around my shoulders. "Blaine is very important to my family. He can stay with us."

Dad met my teary eyes quickly, before turning his attention back to the Doctor, who had begun speaking again... but I just tuned him out. I rested my head against my Dad's arm and closed my eyes.

"Thank you Daddy." I whispered.

He replied wordlessly, with a quick kiss to my forehead, before returning his focus to the Doctor.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

About an hour or so later, we were told that two of us were allowed to go in and see him. Without even discussing it, my Dad and I stood up, and followed the intensive care nurse to Blaine's room.

He was awake, lying on his back, and almost unrecognisable under all the bandages... but his good eye locked on both of mine the second I walked through the door, and I raced to his side, pressing whisper soft kisses to his forehead, his cheeks and his hair. I was sobbing again, I knew it, but I realised quickly that they weren't the anguished tears from before... these were 'happy that you're alive' sobs... sobs which Blaine echoed with fervour as his tears poured silently down his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry Blaine. I should have stayed with you at the mall. We shouldn't have kissed like that, at my car. I … I'm so sorry." I finished brokenly.

He reached out to touch my cheek softly, cupping it in the palm of his hand, trying to comfort me, his gaze never leaving mine. I heard my Dad pull a chair up behind me, alongside the bed, and I gratefully sank into it.

We just stayed like that, staring into each others eyes, our fingers linked together and resting on the stiff sheets beside him, until my father broke the silence.

"Blaine?" He said softly. "Can you tell us what happened? Who did this to you?"

Blaine's one open eye suddenly took on a panicked look, and his tears started again. I reached out my other hand to touch my Dad's fingers, which were resting against my shoulder as he stood partially behind me.

"Not yet, Dad." I said gently, correctly interpreting my boyfriends fear. "He needs a little time. He's not ready to talk just yet." I gave Blaine what I hoped was a comforting, supportive smile... not realising just how true my own words were at that time. Of course, I didn't know it then, but Blaine wasn't going to be ready to talk for quite a while.

I stood up to lean over him, kissing him gently, lingeringly on the forehead, as I gently smoothed his hair.

"Don't worry, love." I whispered, low enough for just his ears only. "I'll stay here with you, I promise. You won't be alone, ever again. I will not leave your side."

He gave me a grateful stare in reply... then within minutes, his eyes slipped closed and he drifted away into the peaceful oblivion of sleep.

I stayed there all night... never letting go of his hand... never leaving his side.

My guilt was incredible. I knew that if I hadn't left him alone in that carpark, this never would have happened. That kiss... that damned kiss, by my car... that's what had caused this, I was sure. The people who had done this must have seen that kiss, and waited until Blaine was alone before they attacked him. That horrible three-letter-word scratched into the paint on his car had confirmed my fears... I'd seen it for myself when I walked out to the ambulance.

God... Blaine would cry when he saw what they had done to his beautiful car. He was so proud of that car, and I think, in a funny way, he felt that it was pretty much all he had left of his family. He and his Dad had spent countless hours poring over that hunk of classic old metal in their driveway, restoring it to it's original beauty. Even though Blaine had always been well aware of his fathers ulterior motives for wanting to get his sons hands dirty, Blaine still recalled that summer as one of the happiest times of his life, bonding with his Dad.

And now, even that was gone.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The Police came the following afternoon, but eventually left empty handed. Blaine still wouldn't talk.

I told them as much as I could, gave them my own theories, which Blaine listened to with tears in his eyes... but never even so much as nodded to confirm or deny any of them.

Nurses and Doctors came and went, as did classmates from Dalton; as well as most of the Warblers and all of my McKinley friends... but Blaine wouldn't even meet their eyes.

He never took his eyes off me... unless it was to sleep, and even then, I could sense his panic upon awakening, as his eyelid fluttered open, his hand would tremble and he would moan, only calming when he again locked his gaze on mine.

Though I was devastated that this had affected him so deeply, I couldn't help but be thankful that he could at least still be comforted by my presence. He and I had been there for each other so many times, in so many different ways over the past eight months, since we first met on the stairs at Dalton, and if we had lost that trust that we had in each other, nothing would ever be the same again.

I wished with all of my heart that I could do something for him, something to ease the pain. It was obvious that my mere presence soothed him immensely, but I wanted to be able to do more than just 'be here' for him.

That second night, I stayed with him while my family went home to get some sleep. My Dad had tried to convince me to join them, but I knew that Blaine couldn't handle me leaving him here. As it was, he had panicked when he had woken from a nap earlier to find himself alone. I'd only left him for a moment, to use the bathroom, but his terrified screams tore me away from where I'd been washing my face in the handbasin. It had taken him ages to calm down from that, and I hadn't even actually left his room that time, I dreaded to think how badly it would affect him if I went home.

I had tried to encourage him to talk to me, but he wouldn't say a word. Then I began to wonder if he could speak? I knew the gash on his chin must be incredibly painful, maybe that was what was preventing him from communicating with me, verbally? But it wasn't like he had tried to talk, and found it too painful, so decided not to try it again... as far as I was aware, he hadn't even attempted to speak since his surgery. Actually, come to think of it, he hadn't said a word at my house either... so he hadn't actually spoken since the attack.

I had one more card to play. I looked Blaine straight in the eye, and told him that I loved him. Since the first time we had exchanged those words, some four months ago, he had never failed to reply with an "I love you too, beautiful" … but as I sat there, gently stroking his hair, waiting for his reply, I choked on the realisation that there was always a first time for everything.

Blaine just wasn't ready to speak.

He'd soon dozed off again, and I'd begun to play scenarios through my head, of what I should have done yesterday. Of course, the obvious one, was asking myself Why in the Hell I hadn't invited Blaine over to the house, to join us for family dinner? Why hadn't that occurred to me? If I had, he would never have been left alone in that carpark, and this disgusting assault would never have happened. But there were others as well... such as why did I have to make it so blatantly obvious that I was gay, and that Blaine and I were dating? I'm not saying we should hide our feelings for each other, but we didn't have to be as flamboyant about it as I insisted we were. I wasn't ashamed of who, or what, I was, but if it caused this kind of pain to the boy I loved with all my heart, then maybe I shouldn't have been so 'proud' about being this way.

My Dad's words from the night before my junior prom haunted me, and I kept running over them in my head. "I think you're trying to stir the pot a bit, trying to get some attention." Even Blaine had advised me against giving people a reason to cause any trouble... but I didn't listen. Maybe if I had, the school might not have turned on me, trying to humiliate me by making me 'Queen'.

Maybe, I could have saved Blaine from this kind of treatment.

Maybe, this was all my fault.

Maybe, Blaine would realise this, if I gave him any time alone to think things through... which I suddenly realised was another part of the reason why I didn't want to go home.

Because just maybe, he would decide he was better off on his own.

Maybe, he would be right.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-