Kurt spent a pleasant afternoon with his dad, who said he was feeling better than he had in weeks.  The doctors had adjusted his medication, and whether it was that or the knowledge that he hadn't actually had another heart attack, something was definitely lifting his mood.  After a dinner of bland hospital food topped off with a container of fresh strawberries Kurt had bought on the way over, Burt convinced Kurt to leave him alone for the night.  “It's a beautiful summer evening, Kurt.  Get out and smell the flowers,” he joked, knowing New York's odor generally did not improve with the hot weather.

Kurt realized he had made a wrong turn in the maze that was the hospital's hallways when he noticed brightly colored cartoon characters and glittery flower drawings decorating patient doors.  Seeing children in hospitals always made him sad, but it looked like this place was doing its best to relieve the drabness of institutional style.  He was headed toward what seemed to be a reception desk to ask for directions when the sound of a guitar caught his attention.  A group of young patients were gathered in a cheerful playroom, obviously excited about what was going on.  Kurt paused to watch them through the wide glass windows, trying not to flinch at the oxygen tubes and bare heads of the children.  As the song began, Kurt froze.  He would know that clear tenor voice anywhere.

The children started clapping along to the words, swaying left and right, and Kurt spotted Blaine, sandwiched on the floor between a tiny blond girl with her arm in a cast and a little boy with Batman pajamas.  Blaine looked good, Kurt thought.  Dreamy as ever, he heard his sixteen year old self saying to Rachel.  Years had passed since that day in the Lima Bean, but Blaine was still so handsome, it hurt his chest to look at him.  No one would ever strike him the way that Blaine did.  His hair was free of the gel helmet he had adopted in high school, but his curls were cut relatively short, not wild and long like he let them grow in the months after the accident.  Blaine was shining, like he had soaked up the sun, free from the worry and pain that had marked his face the last time Kurt saw him.  And as always, the music seemed to spill right out of him, spreading Blaine's particular brand of joy to everyone within earshot.

Blaine was deliberately looking around the room, trying to engage each of the children as he sang, when his gaze fell on Kurt.  Kurt could see the moment he recognized him, the brief look of panic in his wide eyes, replaced almost immediately by something hopeful.  That, in particular, was a look Kurt hadn't seen on Blaine's face in a very long time. 

If the children noticed the rather abrupt end to the song, they didn't seem to mind.  Blaine tried to meet Kurt's eyes again as he handed his guitar to the older child sitting next to him, and Kurt knew that the right thing to do was to go in and talk to him.  He was an adult, and he could handle this like an adult.  So what if it had been over a year since he had last spoken to Blaine, and if it hurt his heart to think of what they had lost.  Despite Kurt's better judgment, however, his nerves took over, and before he fully realized what he was doing, he was walking rapidly away down the hallway. 

“Kurt!”  He heard Blaine call after him.  “Please, Kurt.  I can't chase you.”

Kurt stopped, Blaine's words paralyzing him.  Could he be more of an asshole, he wondered, literally running away from a man who couldn't walk.  Kurt turned to see Blaine standing in the doorway of the playroom, one hand on the doorframe, the other reaching out towards Kurt.  Kurt was momentarily distracted by the memory of this boy at his junior prom, gorgeous in his classic tux and movie star hair, bravely offering his hand to Kurt on the dance floor. 

He walked back towards Blaine, wondering if everyone around them could hear his heart pounding.  At least he was already in the hospital, if he had a heart attack.  “Hi,” he said pointlessly.  “I didn't expect to see you here.”  I'm sorry I'm such an idiot, he said to himself.  Tell me you don't hate me.

“Me neither.  I mean, I didn't expect to see you,” Blaine babbled.  “Are you okay?”

Kurt thought it was pretty bold of Blaine to start right off with that, and almost starting talking about Tessa and therapy and meditation, but then realized Blaine must be wondering why he was at the hospital.  “I'm fine.  I'm here with my dad,” and then, as Blaine started to look worried, “but he's fine too.  He was visiting me and had chest pains, but it wasn't anything serious.”

“That's really good.”  Blaine nodded, looking down at his feet.  “I'm playing for the kids – I guess you could tell.”

“Yeah.”  Kurt took a deep breath, then let it out, trying to get some control over his trembling body.  “You sounded good.”

Blaine blushed.  “Thanks.”

 “And you're, well, upright,” Kurt said, moving closer to Blaine, trying not to stare at his leg, which seemed to look pretty normal, encased in a particularly flattering pair of tight red pants.  Focus, Kurt, he told himself.  Now is not the time for this.

Blaine laughed softly.  “It's true, being upright is now one of my defining qualities.  Who knew how much I'd miss it.”  He ran a hand through his hair, looking shyly at Kurt.  “I'm still using a cane most of the time, but it's a lot better.” 

“That's great,” Kurt said, meeting Blaine's eyes, wanting to lose himself in them, now that they were really looking back at him.  “Really great.”

Blaine let go of the doorway and took a few small steps towards Kurt, limping just a little.  “See?  Big difference from being stuck in a chair, right?”

Kurt's heart fluttered at how Blaine was showing off for him.  “I'm so proud of you,” he stuttered out, embarrassed at how hard it was to say the words.  “You must have worked so hard.” 

Blaine smiled at the praise, but before he could reply, one of the aides who had been in the playroom with the kids came out and looked at Blaine inquiringly.  Clearly he was supposed to be entertaining the children, not gossiping in the corridor.  Did she really have to cut them off right now?  Kurt was still petrified, but he didn't want this to end.  He wanted more of Blaine.  He didn't know if he deserved it, if he was entitled to do this again.  And he couldn't tell if Blaine wanted more of him.  Kurt couldn't hurt him again, he just couldn't.  He couldn't bring them back there, to that awful place they had found themselves in, where neither of them had the energy to reach past their own pain. 

“Kurt, I'm sorry, I have to go back in,” Blaine apologized, his good manners still firmly in place.  “It was good to see you,” he said politely, turning away.  Kurt caught a hint of sadness in his voice, though, and it was enough to make up his mind.

“Wait,” Kurt blurted out.  Blaine turned back around, his hand on the wall for support.  “Is, um, is your number still the same?”

“Yes,” Blaine said, nodding.

“Can I call you later?”

The smile on Blaine's face was worth a million awkward moments, Kurt was sure of it.  “I'd love that.”