Kurt barely knew what was happening, but he was feeling incredibly nauseous. He could vaguely make out the outline of a person sitting next to him, and as they hit a bump in the road, he realised with a start that he was in a car. That didn't make him any less nauseous, sadly enough. If anything, he felt sicker than he'd felt in years.

He had no idea as to how he had ended up here – at one moment, he was preparing for school, perhaps taking a little too much liquid courage than was good for him, and the next, he was here. And he knew he wasn't on his way to school, because he was lying down, and his dad never let him lie down in the car (as if he ever wanted to). Plus, this wasn't even his baby, but… it wasn't a normal car. There was only a small window and… even though he was completely out of it, Kurt's eyes widened at the realisation that he was in an ambulance.

His head hurt too much for him to sit up and demand that they let him go, so instead, Kurt kept eyeing the dirty ceiling of the car. What had happened? He didn't remember a thing, and what he remembered didn't make any sense. Something about Bambi and then… an awful smell. Now that he thought about it, there was a foul taste in his mouth that reminded him of those few instances when he'd contracted the flu…

"Kurt? Are you awake?"

Oh, great. He'd barfed all over the guidance counsellor. Who was the biggest clean freak he had ever met. It all came back to him now.

He couldn't exactly form the words to respond, so he just groaned. He felt horrible already, and he vowed to never drink again. It wasn't worth it.

"We're almost at the Emergency Room," Ms Pillsbury told him, and Kurt felt himself pale even more. Ambulance. Emergency Room. Hospital. He was underage, so that meant that they were going to call his dad. If anything, that was the thing he dreaded most. He could sit through the treatment and the patronising stares and comments of the doctors or the nurses, but his father… that was entirely different.

He knew that his father didn't think of him being a disappointment because he was gay, but as soon as his dad would hear about him drinking so much he had to be brought to the ER… he wouldn't be happy.

To top it all off, all this thinking made his head hurt even more. And he was also still nauseous. Perfect.

When they arrived, Kurt just closed his eyes and let it all happen – the getting him out of the ambulance (he could walk, he figured, but he knew they probably wouldn't allow him to) and into the hospital, then into a room.

They did all kinds of tests on him while he could see Ms Pillsbury getting decontamination showers for her feet out of the corner of his eye. He felt pretty bad for her (but worse for himself, if he was completely honest. He felt like crap right now) now that he was sobering up a bit. Still, he couldn't bring himself to answer all the questions the doctor and the nurses asked (most importantly, who had given him the booze, but also whether this was his first experience with alcohol (yes) and why he'd gotten drunk in the first place).

In the end, they hooked him up to an IV and sat him on a bed in the hallway, for it was a rather busy day at the ER and they needed the room. Kurt didn't mind all too much; he could spend hours watching people and judging them for their fashion sense. They hadn't been able to reach his father yet (for which he was thankful to whatever higher being he didn't expect there to be), but Ms Pillsbury had promised to try to contact him as well as soon as she got back to school. After she had been cleaned sufficiently, she had proposed to stay at the ER until Kurt's father arrived, but in the end, she had left anyway.

Kurt had no idea what time it was by now, but he must've missed at least half the school day already. Maybe he could be back in time for Glee – although, his dad would probably take him home immediately. He wasn't sure if that was a comforting thought or not, as he had no idea how to deal with his father's disappointment.

"Hey," he suddenly heard from right in front of him, "are you okay?"

Groggily, Kurt looked up and stared at the boy sitting on a bed against the opposite wall. "I'm fine," he managed to choke out, clutching the pole his IV bag was on. "Are you?" he asked, frowning. The boy had two black eyes, and his left arm was in a cast. "What happened?"

The boy winced. "I'm fine. It's nothing."

"No, it's not nothing," Kurt told him, though his words sounded a little slurred.

"Are you drunk?" the boy asked, sounding a little too amused for Kurt's liking.

"What's it to you?" he snapped back. "So what if I am?"

The boy tried, but failed, to hide a smile. "No offense, but… you look like you're twelve."

Kurt huffed. "I'm not twelve! I'm sixteen years old, I'll have you know."

Now, the boy smiled again, but, Kurt hoped, no longer to humour him. "So am I! But, seriously, why did you get drunk in the middle of the day?"

Kurt leered at him. "I'll tell you my story if you tell me yours," he said after a moment.

The boy looked doubtful, but in the end, he replied, "Alright. That's sounds fair. I'm Blaine, by the way."

"I'm Kurt." He was silent for a few seconds before telling Blaine what had caused him to get so drunk. He didn't want to tell the whole story, but this guy seemed alright. Plus, what were the odds that they were ever going to meet again? "I get bullied at school," he announced bluntly, and the other boy's eyes (as bruised as they were) widened slightly. "I just… came out, so now the bullying is even worse than before. There's this new woman at school – she pretends to be a student but she's actually twice as old as us. She told me that… after drinking some of the stuff she gave me, I'd be fully confident to be myself." He sighed and stared at his IV bag. He was starting to get dizzy again. "I guess I shouldn't have drunk the entire bottle at once this morning."

Looking at Blaine again, he noticed that the other boy finally looked a little sympathetic, instead of just amused. Now that Kurt looked closer, he thought that maybe, Blaine had had a bloody nose as well at some point.

"So I went to school," he continued, "and the guidance counsellor started talking to me and… I don't know. I said something about Bambi and vomited. She must've called an ambulance after that, but I don't exactly remember."

"I'm sorry," Blaine promptly said. "I mean," he added as Kurt eyed him oddly, "I know what it's like. The bullying part, not the getting drunk part." He swallowed and glanced around. "I get bullied at my school as well – that wasn't always the case, only after I came out five or six months ago."

Kurt stared at him as the other boy looked down at his hands. "You're gay?" he asked somewhat stupidly. "I really wouldn't have guessed… but – never mind." Now Kurt ducked his head as well.

"Yeah, I am," Blaine replied quietly. "Shortly after coming out, I got beat up at the end of a school dance, but after that, it was mostly verbal abuse."

"That's awful," Kurt breathed. "I mean – those words aren't really nice either."

"I had a friend who's gay as well," Blaine told him. "Yeah, I know – we weren't really each other's type or anything, so we were just friends. But he moved away this summer, so now they're… focussing on me."

It was almost miraculous how sobered up Kurt felt right now. "Where do you go to school?" he asked, suddenly curious.

"Lima High," Blaine replied, rolling his eyes. "It seriously sucks. My mum wanted to pull me out and enrol me in a private school after that dance, but my dad resisted. Maybe this will change his mind."

The boy looked almost frightened and frustrated at the same time, Kurt noted. Knowing it would possibly bring about another wave of nausea, he carefully hopped off of the bed, grabbed the pole of his IV and ambled over to the opposite bed. As he climbed onto the bed, he pretended not to notice the odd looks he received from a passing visitor and from Blaine himself. As soon as he was sitting firmly on the bed and his stomach wasn't acting up anymore, he hesitantly patted Blaine's shoulder.

"It'll be okay," he said quietly. "If it's really this bad, I'm sure your dad will come around."

"I hope so," Blaine sighed. "Have you heard of Dalton Academy in Westerville? It's a private all boys school with a no bullying policy."

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "Those schools actually exist?"

"Apparently," Blaine responded. "Sounds amazing, don't you think?"

"Sounds surreal," Kurt corrected him. "But it'll be good. For you, I mean. At least you'd be safe there."

"This was the first time they physically attacked me after that dance at the end of last school year," Blaine told him. "It was way worse back then, but… I feel like they'll do it more often now if I don't get away. I… just don't feel safe anymore at that school, Kurt."

"It's okay," Kurt tried to soothe him. He had no idea what he should do, but he felt like he had to do something. So he wrapped his arm around Blaine's right shoulder and patted his leg with his other hand. It was a little awkward, especially since they'd only met barely half an hour before, but he didn't have any better ideas. "That's – perfectly understandable. Nobody deserves to be treated like that, Blaine, and nobody blames you for being afraid. Something would be really wrong with you if you weren't scared after what those bullies did to you."

Burying his face into Kurt's shoulder, Blaine muttered, "I'm sorry, Kurt, for dumping all this on you – "

"Don't be ridiculous," Kurt interrupted him. "It's perfectly fine."

"You don't seem so drunk anymore," Blaine commented, his voice still muffled.

"That's what talking about this kind of stuff does to me." It was pretty intriguing that Blaine obviously felt comfortable enough around Kurt to sit there with him like this. Then again, Blaine was gay as well, and not straight and afraid to 'catch the gay' from him. It felt nice, even though they were in a hallway in the ER of Lima's only hospital after some life changing experiences.

They were interrupted when a nurse approached them, followed by a woman who Kurt assumed to be Blaine's mother. Sure enough, she started fussing over the boy immediately, asking if he was alright and telling him how she wouldn't let him return to that school ever again.

Before he knew it, and before he could even say something ('goodbye' seemed like a valid option here), the nurse ushered both Blaine and his mother into an open room, leaving Kurt by himself. He slipped off of the bed and walked back towards his 'own' bed, where his coat and bag were still lying. He had barely made himself somewhat comfortable when another nurse came towards him, followed by his father, who looked somewhere in between incredibly angry that Kurt had been drinking and immensely relieved that he was alright.

Kurt grimaced. This wasn't going to be pretty.