"Morning." Kurt smiled at him, his hand slipping from his head when Blaine straightened up.

Blaine rubbed at the stiffness in his shoulders for a moment; he looked around, disoriented. He didn't remember falling asleep. "Sorry, didn't mean to fall asleep on you."

"Don't be. You needed it." Kurt looked…. Better. Less pale.

Blaine smiled, "It's obviously been doing you some good. You look better. How do you feel?"

"Better." Kurt agreed. "How do you feel?"

"I'm not the one in the hospital bed," Blaine replied; in truth, his knees were sort of killing him.

"Carol seems to think you should be. She got the nurses to let you stay all day so you could sleep."

Blaine looked around the room for a clock. "What time is it?"

"Almost seven," Kurt studied Blaine as best he could from his prone position, "My dad and Carol went to get something to eat. Finn went home."

Blaine nodded slowly. That was…. what, a good ten hours of sleep? More than he'd gotten since Kurt's admittance to the hospital that much he was sure of. And no nightmares. "You need anything?"

"Just you." Kurt smiled. He patted his hand on the edge of the bed.

Blaine rested his chin on his arm so that his and Kurt's eyes were level, and sought out his hand to hold. "Anymore bear trap dreams?"

Kurt looked puzzled for a moment.

"You told me earlier that you had a dream that your foot was stuck in a bear trap." Blaine prompted; trying not to sound concerned.

A light of comprehension switched on in Kurt's eyes, "Oh, right. No, none that I remember. No nightmares?"

Blaine smiled, "No nightmares."

A nurse came through the door; an older woman with green plastic glasses and Disney characters on her scrubs. She smiled at Blaine. "Well look who finally decided to wake up."

Blaine smiled sheepishly, sitting up straighter again. "Thank you, for letting me stay."

"Of course, honey. We've had pools at the nursing station about when you were going to collapse in the hallway since the day this guy first came in." The nurse nodded toward Kurt as she pulled his chart from the end of the bed.

Kurt looked to Blaine warily, studying him closer.

Blaine blushed and avoided Kurt's eyes. "Just a little stressed over all this, I guess."

The nurse returned the chart to its holder and moved to check the IVs and smile at Kurt. "Well, we're through the woods now. Nice to be seeing so much more of those pretty eyes."

Kurt blushed, but smiled. "When can I go home?"

The nurse's smile—Blaine noted the name on her scrub pocket said Rose—dipped a little. "That all depends on how things go. You've got your work cut out of you getting back on your feet."

Kurt frowned, his fingers twitching a little in Blaine's. "How long before I can start trying that?"

Rose laughed, "With that attitude, I'm sure it'll be sooner rather than later. Why don't we start by sitting you up a bit, hmm?"

"It's be nice to see something other than the ceiling." Kurt agreed.

She adjusted a pillow behind him before angling the bed higher up until he was in a more reclined sitting position.

Kurt's hand tightened on Blaine's for a moment. Blaine squeezed back. "You okay?"

Kurt breathed slowly for a moment, letting the flash of pain ebb before he nodded slowly- but that hurt too- he spoke through gritted teeth. "Fine."

"Do you want me to put it back down?" Rose studied his face, her hand still on the bed's control panel.

"No. I'll get used to it." Kurt closed his eyes for a moment.

"Take it slow." Blaine murmured.

"If I took it any slower, I'd have to be dead." Kurt rolled his eyes.

Blaine flinched.

"Hey, I'll be fine," Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand; he couldn't be sure of how Blaine had handled his almost full week of unconsciousness, but he could see the end results. Blaine was a wreck, and obviously in no mind set for jokes. He brushed his thumb across Blaine's and noticed the bandages there for the first time. How could he have missed them? "What'd you do to your hand?"

Blaine glanced at the bandage too; he grinned ruefully and lifted a leg in the air for Kurt to see one of his knees. There was no point in trying to hide it from him. "Fell running."

"You don't run." Kurt frowned, noting the other bandaged knee still on the ground.

"I do now." Blaine winked.

"Honey; can you follow this with your eyes please?" The nurse pulled a penlight out of her pocket and flashed it in Kurt's eyes.

He followed its movement and let her take his temperature. Blaine watching carefully the whole time like an intern anticipating being quizzed later. "Planning on taking up the medical profession too?"

Blaine tore his eyes from Rose checking the oxygen line by Kurt's nose. He smiled again. "Maybe."

Rose glanced at Blaine, "The doctor will be in soon and she needs to check his ribs, so I'm going to have to ask you to step out for a few minutes, honey."

Blaine nodded, he squeezed Kurt's hand once and made to let go, but Kurt held on. "Can he stay?"

The nurse looked hesitantly at Blaine. "Are you sure you want him to?"

Kurt's face had paled. He hated having his ribs checked- it reminded him of the relentless hurt in the parking lot. His voice came out breathier than he meant it to, "If he doesn't mind… I'd… I'd feel better if he could."

"Of course I don't mind," Blaine remained standing at the side of the bed, Kurt's grip tight on his hand, "I told you I wouldn't go anywhere."

They waited for a few minutes more before the doctor arrived, brushing through the doorway and immediately moving to check the chart at the end of the bed. "Nice to see you so awake, Kurt. How are you feeling tonight?"

"Better." Kurt's voice shook a little. He had little memory of the past few days, but he always remembered this daily torture. Maybe he should have made Blaine leave…

"I know you're not looking forward to this, but it's something we have to do," The doctor smiled grimly at Kurt before glancing at Blaine, "Hello."

"Hi; Blaine Anderson." Blaine offered his free hand to the pretty blonde doctor with a smile.

"I'm Dr. Adams; I did Kurt's surgery when he first came in. I've seen you wandering around here; friend of Kurt's, I take it?" the doctor took the stethoscope off from around her neck. She glanced at the boys' interlocked hands as she moved toward the side of the bed then looked back at Blaine's face with a smile. "Ah."

Blaine blushed a little, but otherwise said nothing. Clearly she'd made the connection for herself.

"Will you be staying with us then, Mr. Anderson?" Dr. Adams spoke to Blaine, but her eyes were on Kurt.

Kurt glanced at Blaine. Momentarily torn.

Blaine squeezed his hand, reading his mind as always, "Whatever you need."

Kurt swallowed. "He's staying."

The doctor nodded and set to work. She pulled the blanket down to Kurt's lap and, with Rose's help, untied the back of his hospital gown and slid it down to his waist. "How are we doing so far?"

Kurt's face was pale with anticipation, but he otherwise looked all right. "Fine."

"That's better than before, right?" Rose encouraged him, working at unwrapping the gauze enveloping most of his torso.

Kurt flinched a little as the first layer came off, "Yeah, it is."

Blaine remained mute, trying to keep out of the way in fear of getting kicked out for being a nuisance. When Kurt took in a sharp breath- a quick hiss between his teeth- as the second layer came off, Blaine decided it was time to do something. Tell him something.

"I had my ribs wrapped once. Right before I went to Dalton." He said in a rush.

Kurt looked at him, curious.

The words had had their desired effect- Kurt was definitely distracted, but now Blaine knew he was required to say more, but he wasn't entirely sure what to say, he let his mouth work on its own. "I only broke two; I didn't know I'd done it until I fainted right in the middle of the garage when my dad and I were working on the car."

Rose caught onto Blaine's distraction angle, and spoke up. "How did you break them in the first place?"

Blaine's eyes remained on Kurt's for a moment before he glanced toward the nurse with a grin and flashed her his bandaged hand. "Accident prone, I guess."

"What did your dad-" Kurt let out a yelp of pain as the final layer came off.

Blaine squeezed his hand harder; "He told me if I was ready to man up and walk myself into urgent care without dropping like a girl, he'd take me in to get them checked."

Dr. Adam's and the nurse exchanged a look, but said nothing.

Blaine hadn't planned on dropping that bit of information, and he was prepared to try and make light of it, but his eyes had drifted to Kurt's exposed skin, and what he saw there froze the words in his mouth. Black and blue and crimson; he couldn't find a centimeter of unmarred pink. A long row of angry, red stitches arced it's way from an inch or two below his sternum to the curve of his pelvis. Kurt's face may have been untouched, but his assailants had more than made up for it in the damage they'd done to his middle. He's lain with this damage done to him all night. Alone. Blaine felt the need to swallow hard, but felt like there was a disconnect between his brain and his periphery. He couldn't make it happen. Instead a ragged breath- a sort of half-suppressed gasp- escaped his mouth.

Kurt did not notice his boyfriend's distress; he was too consumed with his own as the doctor pressed lightly here and there, asking him for a pain rating for each spot. They were all a very solid ten. She checked the stitches, commented on how nicely they were healing, applied some sort of salve to them, and began the process of rewrapping it all. Hiding it away beneath three neat, white layers of gauze.

Blaine's speech musculature had apparently overcome the momentary disconnect, but he felt no connection to the words that came out in a soothing, low note. "You're doing great… they're almost done… Squeeze my hand; I know it hurts… just a few more minutes-"

Kurt clenched his eyes closed, but listened to the soft sound of Blaine's voice- an endless stream of encouragement- until finally his gown was drawn back up and the blankets replaced.

"You did wonderfully today, Kurt," The doctor wrote something in his chart, "It might not feel like it now, but you're healing up nicely."

Kurt was still trying to recover, but he opened his eyes to smile weakly at the doctor, "I wouldn't want to know what healing up badly feels like."

She laughed a little, putting her stethoscope back around her neck—Kurt didn't even remember her using it, "Me neither. And Blaine, if you ever decide to go into medicine, I will write you a shining recommendation for your bedside manner."

Blaine smiled at her. "I'll keep that in mind."

The nurse and the doctor exited, closing the door quietly, so once again the boys were alone.

Blaine sank back down into his chair; it wasn't until then that Kurt noticed the way Blaine's fingers trembled in his own. His free hand shook, too, as it passed through his unruly bangs once. "Blaine… are you all right?"

Blaine looked at him, shock painted across his features, and then a look of sheer grief. "You're asking me if I'm all right?"

Kurt wondered again if keeping Blaine with him had been a bad idea. He nodded dumbly; not sure of what else to say. And there were the unshed tears standing in his eyes again. Kurt was sure now he had never witnessed Blaine crying.

"Kurt—what they did to you, because of me--" Blaine had to pause to regain his breath for a minute, "they beat you and left you for dead because of me, Eric carved a matching scar into your forehead because of me, and now you're asking me if I am okay." His throat burned; his eyes stung. He was losing his grip.

"Blaine, none of this is your fault." Kurt felt his own composure waver upon seeing Blaine so tormented.

"How can you say that?" Blaine's voice wavered. "This is all my fault."

"What's going on?" Burt was standing in the doorway, scrutinizing them.

Kurt mentally cursed his father's timing. "Nothing; we're just talking."

"You look upset," Burt looked from Kurt to Blaine, "You both look upset."

"We're fine." Blaine cleared his throat.

"Blaine stayed with me while I got my chest checked... I think it just startled him a little." Kurt looked to Blaine, offering him a reassuring squeeze to his hand.

Burt looked like he understood then. He had sat in for many such check-ups and had felt the emotional strain they elicited. "Night hours are almost up, kiddo."

Blaine nodded; he leaned over and kissed Kurt quickly on the forehead. "I'll be in tomorrow."

Kurt smiled at him, but felt a knot of guilt in his stomach. He watched Blaine stride toward the door- a slight limp to his step. "Blaine?"

He turned in the doorway, his face still tense with remorse. "Yeah?"

"Promise me you're not going to beat yourself up over this."

Blaine smiled grimly, "A little late for that."

"Blaine." Kurt said sharply. He couldn't stand him leaving with that look on his face.

Blaine ran a hand through his hair again, his expression aggrieved. "I don't make promises I can't keep, Kurt. I'm sorry."

Kurt stared in shock as Blaine disappeared around the corner.

"Do you want me to go talk with him?" Burt looked to his son.

"No, let him go," Kurt was silent for a long moment. "… Dad?"

"Yeah, buddy?" Burt moved to the chair Blaine had previously occupied.

"Has he been all right through all of this?" Kurt finally tore his eyes away from the empty doorway. "One of the nurses said he's been a bit of a wreck."

Burt took his hat off to rub his head. "He does okay. Looks a bit tired and he can be a little tense, but he's been as polite a kid as he's ever been. He just wants to see you better. We all do."

Kurt looked to his father and felt a pang of remorse. He had caused so much pain for the people he loved, "I'm sorry you've had to go through all of this."

"Hey, don't you worry about me buddy; I want you happy and I want you safe. If that means I gotta lose a couple hours of sleep or a couple years to prison for killing the guy who did this, I will." Burt squeezed his son's hand.

"Orange would be a terrible color on you." Kurt's voice wavered.

"I would even wear a color that did not compliment my skin tone to keep you safe." Burt smiled, brushing the tears from Kurt's face with his free hand.

He drove well over the speed limit towards home; his music so loud it almost hurt his ears. When he pulled into the driveway, he didn't go inside. He climbed out of his car and lay down in the grass. The sky was clear. He counted. Counted and counted and counted. When his heart still raced and his brain still buzzed, he tried singing to himself, anything to fill his mind with something else. A song came to mind, and though he felt goose bumps raise on his arms, he also felt the familiar comfort of his mind growing quiet.

Counting stars wishing I was okay

Crashing down was my biggest mistake

I never ever meant to hurt you

I only did what I had to

Counting stars again