Chapter Eighteen

Blaine turned his phone over in his hands. It wasn't going to ring, but that didn't stop him from staring at it with the vainest hope that it would.

They had made an agreement before Kurt had left. Phone calls would be a bad idea; there was too much risk of Blaine's senses getting confused, and Kurt wouldn't be anywhere near to help him calm down. Since Kurt had landed in New York, they had been texting, but the words had been brief as the other boy clearly got caught up in the magic of the city.

Blaine shoved his phone into his bag in frustration. He needed something to take his mind off it all. Something to distract him from the fantasies, wishes and dreams that placed Blaine in New York too, performing on stage alongside his friends and Kurt.

"Watch it freak!"

Hatred, malice, and relished cruelty exploded up Blaine's arm, the onslaught of feelings bleeding into the physical pain in his other arm as a random jock shoulder-checked him into a locker bank. Instinctively, Blaine curled into himself, head ducked until the jock disappeared laughing around the corner.

Breathe. Just breathe. Count to ten. Blaine kept his eyes squeezed tight shut, trying to swallow against the rising bile in his throat as self-hatred twisted in the pit of his stomach; a mutated version of the jock's emotions rooting itself deep within him.

When he finally felt able to open his eyes, the corridor was deserted. The bell must have rung already. Wonderful.

Unsteadily, Blaine pushed himself up from the lockers and began to meander his way to his next class. The teacher scowled at his lateness and mumbled apology; her bored irritation itching under Blaine's skin like millions of ants.

Head down, Blaine slid into his seat. Unconsciously, he glanced to his right where normally he would see Sam and Tina. Their empty desks only made him feel worse.

He tried to focus on the class without much success. His mind wouldn't stop wandering, his leg wouldn't stop bouncing, his hands wouldn't stop twitching... By the time the class actually ended, Blaine was too worked up. He didn't know what to do with himself. Neither of his parents were able to pick him up, which essentially boiled his choices down to school bus or walk. And after the last few days he'd had, sitting in a moving container of emotionally charged teenagers was not where Blaine wanted to be right now. So that meant walking.

He held back, waiting for the front tide of students rushing to leave school grounds to go ahead of him before dropping off his stuff in his locker.

He didn't want to go home. Home was empty. Home was nothing.

All at once he was frustrated, bored, lonely, jittery, angry. His flesh crawled, and his skin felt too tight for his body. Hands clenched into fists, and Blaine's feet led him to the auditorium.

It was dead. Empty. Lifeless. Stark emergency lighting was the only thing able to pierce the darkness, carving sharp shadows onto Blaine's skin.

The light and the life had gone to New York and left Blaine behind.

Chest tightening, Blaine fumbled for his phone. Why wouldn't his hands stop shaking?

No new messages.

Kurt...

Standing in the vast auditorium, Blaine felt small as the yawning space swallowed him whole, and breathing just became so much harder.

Why had he come back to school? Why had he let himself fall for Kurt? Why had he let himself think he could have a life?

Five days without Kurt to offer support, and Blaine was a wreck.

Detachedly, Blaine recognised that he was really struggling to breathe now. His chest was tight with a swell of anxiety; every snatch of air seemed to need a huge amount of energy.

His limbs felt heavy and his vision started to swim and god please just stop stop stop-

Calm down, calm down, you're panicking, calm down-

But his hands still kept shaking and the massive dark room refused to relinquish its grip.

Disjointed blurs and dismembered thoughts drowned in a tidal wave of fear as Blaine felt his knees buckle. He couldn't calm down, he couldn't stop, he couldn't stop, he couldn't stop shaking breathing crying drowning drowning drowning-

Footsteps echoed, shouts rang – calm down, you're panicking, calm down – hands grasped and terror fear panic panic panic panic-

It was the last push. Iron weights forged from the emotions of a stranger manacled themselves to Blaine's feet, and dragged him under to the darkness.

00000

"Blaine? Hey buddy, you with me?"

Blaine felt like he was stuffed with cotton wool. His limbs felt detached, and his disorientation fuelled a confused panic as his eyes shot open and registered three things in quick succession that did nothing to quell his rising terror.

Hospital bed.

IV line.

Nurse.

"I'll go and get the doctor." The nurse bustled off, and Blaine's vision tunnelled.

But then strong, warm hands were grasping his shoulders solidly, forcing his head to turn the other way to the owner of the first voice. "Blaine, calm down, it's okay, you're safe, calm down, breathe for me there, bud, come on... that's it."

"C-coop?" Blaine stumbled over his brother's name, the act of voicing it already making him feel slightly less agitated.

"Right here squirt." Cooper smiled widely, his happiness at seeing his little brother awake painting the room with washes of yellows and oranges; watercolours of warmth.

"What... what happened?" Blaine struggled to sit up, nearly dislodging his IV in the process.

Cooper leapt of out his uncomfortable-looking hospital seat to help him, propping up pillows, "What do you remember?"

"I was in McKinley's auditorium, and then..." Blaine could remember the swell of terror, the talons of known fear puncturing his heart. He swallowed roughly, determined not to send himself into another spiral, "I passed out?"

Cooper nodded, his mouth a thin line, "A couple of kids found you, and thank god one of them had a brain, because they ran and got your school's cheerleading coach. She had the good sense to pull the other kid off you before their emotions made you even worse. Mom and Dad are with Dr Monroe now, but they think you had a panic attack..."

Blaine blinked stupidly. "A panic attack? That's... that's it?"

"That's it?" Cooper parroted incredulously, "I fly in from New York on a surprise trip to visit my little brother, and end up going straight from the airport to the freaking hospital because I get a call from Dad to tell me to meet them there, Blaine's collapsed! And you say 'that's it?'"

Blaine shrank back, and Cooper's emotions splattered immediate ink spots of guilt. "I'm sorry..."

Cooper scrubbed his hands over his face. "No, Blaine, please don't apologise. I was just scared. I shouldn't have said that."

Blaine fiddled with a loose thread on the starch, too-stiff hospital sheets. "I just thought... when I woke up, I thought I'd had another empathic episode."

"Well, at first so did we." Both Anderson brothers looked up to see Dr Monroe in the doorway, flanked by their parents. Blaine's stomach squirmed guiltily. His mom looked so pale and tired, and his dad's face was drawn and defeated. Dr Monroe smiled professionally and walked up to the other side of his bed. "However, your teacher said that you were alone before you were found, and we did a blood test to look for any kind of severe chemical imbalance that we would expect from a full episode, and nothing really out of the ordinary showed up. If you're feeling up to it, Blaine, I would like it if we could have a chat about what you were doing just before you collapsed."

Blaine didn't really like the idea of that. "Are we in Columbus?"

"No, Blaine, we're still in Lima. Dr Monroe was kind enough to drive down here rather than have you moved." His mom smiled thinly, nervous hands trying to fluff his pillows in an attempt to busy herself.

Dr Monroe nodded, "The doctors here were unsure if your collapse was related directly to your ES level, I was simply here to consult. If all goes well with our little chat, you won't even have to stay overnight." Her smile was simultaneously warm and cold; the warmth in her eyes juxtaposed against the chill of her carefully shrouded emotions.

Blaine nodded with dull resignation, but then his eyes widened, "Does Kurt know I'm here?"

More guilt, this time from his mom, crackling in a shower of emerald sparks. "You've only been here a couple of hours, sweetie, and we didn't think you would want to worry Kurt. Not with his competition being so important..."

"Oh. Okay." Blaine wasn't sure how to feel. On the one hand, he was relieved that Kurt wasn't worrying himself sick over Blaine, but on the other... he really wished Kurt was here.

And then it was all business. His parents and Cooper waited outside while the doctor grilled Blaine for the complete rundown of what had happened. Her face gave nothing away and, for once, the emotional quiet from her really unnerved Blaine. Every time he mentioned Kurt, he felt like he was missing out on some secret conclusion she was drawing. When they were finished, she disappeared with Blaine's parents again, and sure Cooper kept him company chatting about what he had been up to in New York, but Blaine wasn't an idiot.

No one was telling him anything. They were leaving him out, trying to protect him, explaining only what they thought he could handle.

Cooper tried his hardest to cheer Blaine up, but there was only so much he could do. Once again, Blaine wished Kurt was here. Kurt was strong and sure, Blaine's anchor in a storm. And yet, every time he thought of Kurt, he just felt miserably guilty. Kurt was enjoying himself in an incredible city, and here was Blaine wishing that he was still here in Ohio watching his broken boyfriend get worse.

Tomorrow, Kurt would be back, and Blaine would be out of hospital.

Suddenly, Blaine knew. He knew what to do. If he didn't tell Kurt, then his boyfriend wouldn't worry or feel guilty about not being here, and Blaine could forget it ever happened. Because the last thing Blaine needed was Kurt to think that he had to stay with Blaine out of some twisted pity. He couldn't stand the thought of Kurt giving up his New York fashion dreams for Blaine, just so he could watch his boyfriend descend into insanity in his early twenties before finally dying.

He would have one more year of selfish happiness with Kurt, and then he would let him go.

What Blaine didn't realise was that he wouldn't be given that choice.

TBC