Don't Keep Your Distance: Gifts

When Blaine awoke a couple of hours later, the first thing he noticed was how cold he was. Kurt was no longer curled up next to him, and at some point during his nap he had managed to kick his blankets off, leaving him shivering and drenched in cold sweat.

Blaine attempted to sit up, letting out a soft whimper when his muscles ached in protest. He grabbed a handful of the blankets by his feet and pulled them up his chin, curling himself up into a ball in an attempt to warm up and ease his trembling, which had definitely not improved.

Lying on his side, Blaine caught site of a small handwritten note propped up on his bedside table. He squinted at neat, pretty handwriting.

Blaine,

I'm downstairs helping Carole with dinner. I didn't want to wake you.

I hope you're feeling better. Text me when you wake up – don't try to get out of bed!

Kurt

There was a cellphone number at the bottom of the page. The corner of Blaine's mouth twitched up in a small smile when he read the note, and he grabbed his phone from the bedside table.

Typing out the simple text took a ridiculously long time, as Blaine's fingers kept shaking and hitting the wrong buttons. He finally managed to type out a somewhat legible text, and barely 30 seconds after he sent it, there was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," Blaine mumbled, and Kurt opened the door and entered the room, smiling gently at Blaine.

"Hey," Kurt said softly. "You feeling any better?"

Much better, now that you're here. "A little."

"That's good." Kurt paused for a moment. "I'm gonna go get Carole so she can give you a check-up, okay?"

Blaine nodded, wincing at the throbbing sensation behind his eyes. "Thanks."

A minute later, Kurt returned to the room with Carole in tow, a medical supply kit in her hand. As soon as she caught sight of Blaine, an expression of concern and pity flashed across her face. "Oh, honey," she said, perching herself on the edge of the bed. "You look miserable."

Despite himself, Blaine let out a soft chuckle. "I've been better."

Carole tenderly brushed the hair off Blaine's face. Blaine was once again shocked by how comforted he felt, having never experienced such care and affection from his own cold and distant mother.

"I'm gonna need you to sit up, okay?" Carole said, wrapping an arm under Blaine's back to help him. Blaine swung his legs off the side of the bed, shivering when the blankets fell of his body, exposing the skin of his arms to the cold air.

"Here, put this under your tongue, sweetie," Carole said, placing a thermometer in Blaine's mouth. "Keep your feet flat on the floor, I'm going to take your blood pressure in a few minutes."

Kurt and Carole made small talk for a couple of minutes until the thermometer in Blaine's mouth beeped. Carole took it out and glanced at it briefly. "You have a fever, but nothing too worrying at this point. I have some medication you can take that should help with the fever and the pain."

Carole reached into her medical kit and pulled out a blood pressure monitor. She rolled up Blaine's sleeve and wrapped the cuff around his upper arm.

"Can you tell me about the symptoms you've been experiencing?" Carole asked.

Blaine furrowed his brow, trying to recall all the awful things he'd been feeling since that morning. "Umm…I've had a constant throbbing headache. I had really bad nausea and vomiting this morning, but that seems to be a bit better now since I haven't eaten for a while. I've been shaking and sweating a lot, I guess due to the fever. All my muscles hurt and I feel kinda dizzy and confused, and really tired."

Carole nodded. "Those are all pretty standard symptoms of alcohol withdrawal, and you may experience some others before they start to wear off. Ideally, you should be in hospital, but I can't force you to go there if you don't want to. We do need to be weary, however, of some of the most severe symptoms, such as hallucinations and seizures."

Blaine's eyes widened in fear. "Seizures?"

"It's only a possibility. I know it sounds scary, but I've had a lot of practice in dealing with alcohol and drug withdrawals, so try not to worry." Blaine swallowed nervously.

Carole turned to address Kurt. "In terms of the seizures, if you notice Blaine acting strange or disoriented at any point, get him to lie down and make sure he's away from any sharp objects that could hurt him. Then call for me immediately." Kurt nodded.

Carole turned back to Blaine. "I've managed to get the rest of the week off work, so I'll be here to help you if you need me." She glanced down at the blood pressure monitor. "You blood pressure is a little high, but it's nothing too severe. I'll still need to monitor it closely over the next few days, of course."

She then took a stethoscope out of the bag and asked Blaine lift up his shirt, before pressing the cold metal to his chest.

"Your heart rate is fine," she said after a couple of minutes, as she packed the stethoscope and the blood pressure monitor back into the medical kit. She took out a white pill bottle and handed a couple of the pills to Blaine, and he swallowed them with a sip from his water bottle.

"I'll have to repeat these tests daily until the symptoms start to wear off," Carole said. "I can't tell you for sure how long that will be, but with your history, I'd say the best-case scenario is a few more days." She patted Blaine's cheek affectionately. "Rest, and drink lots of fluids. If you can't eat, have some soda to keep your blood sugar up."

"Thanks, Carole. I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome honey." She bent over to place a soft kiss on Blaine's forehead before leaving the room. As soon as she was gone, Kurt got up and helped Blaine to lie back on the bed again.

"I love your stepmom," Blaine said with a smile, which Kurt returned.

"Yeah," Kurt said, "she's really, really great. I couldn't have asked for a better stepmom, or a better partner for my dad."

"I can see why he likes her," Blaine continued, as Kurt gently tucked the blankets around his shoulders. "She's kind and loving, just like your mom."

Kurt paused and stared at Blaine for a moment, before exhaling shakily. His lower lip trembled.

"Hey," Blaine said, frowning slightly. "What's wrong?"

"Will you…will you tell me about her?" Kurt asked, his voice soft and sad. "I mean, I used to remember so much about her…but lately, I've just – I've had trouble recalling some things. I don't like asking my dad because talking about her always upsets him, but I thought you might remember better than I do, since you were older when she -"

"- Kurt," Blaine said, reaching out to cover Kurt's hand with his own, "Of course I'll tell you." He paused for a moment before patting the empty side of the bed next to him. Kurt clambered over him and immediately made himself comfortable on the bed. Blaine smiled, relaxing into the mattress as he began to recount his memories of Elizabeth Hummel.

He talked about the first day he met her, and the way she pulled him Blaine into a warm hug and kissed him on the cheek as if she'd known him for years. Blaine recounted every memory he could recall of the times that he, Kurt, Elizabeth and Burt had all spent time together, as a family. A few times, Kurt gasped and clutched at Blaine's arm excitedly when Blaine's descriptions triggered a sudden recollection of a forgotten moment.

Blaine paused for a moment in his story, a little nervous about the next memory that he wanted to share with Kurt.

Blaine took a deep breath. "I think I was about 17 when I first told your parents that I was gay."

Kurt inhaled sharply, the grip on Blaine's arm suddenly tightening. Blaine knew why he had suddenly tensed up – it was because this story was important to him. Elizabeth had died before he'd ever had the chance to share all of himself with her, and he wanted to know how she would feel about him if she knew about his sexuality.

Blaine smiled. "Your mom and dad both hugged me and told me that they already knew. They said that they knew about you, too. They told me that they would always love me, and that even though I wasn't related to them by blood, I would always be a part of their family."

Blaine looked down at Kurt, whose eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. "S-she knew that I was gay?" Kurt asked.

"Yes, she did. She always loved you more than anything, Kurt. She would be so proud of you. Don't ever doubt that for one second."

Kurt let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh, and curled up into Blaine's side like he had the previous day. Blaine smiled in contentment.

"I think Carole and my mum would have liked each other," Kurt whispered.

Blaine yawned, his eyelids beginning to droop once again. "Yeah," he said. "I think so, too."

The next week was the longest week of Blaine's life.

The mornings were the hardest. Each morning, Blaine found himself in the bathroom with his head in the toilet bowl, throwing up everything that was in his stomach – even if it was just water.

His fever continued to rage, leaving him in a constant state of feeling either swelteringly hot or unbearably cold.

The cravings became worse and worse. Blaine had never felt so thirsty for a drop of alcohol in his life, and the worst part was, he knew that a drink would make all the pain go away.

The cravings were only exacerbated by Blaine's mood swings, which kicked in around the third day. Blaine had never felt less in control of his own body and mind, which left him in a state of constant anxiety. Several times, he found himself begging Kurt to get him some alcohol – just one glass, just one drop, anything. When Kurt refused with tear-filled eyes, Blaine found himself screaming at the boy in a sudden, uncontrollable surge of anger and frustration. After each of his outburst, Blaine was immediately filled with guilt and shame, apologising profusely for his behaviour while he sobbed into Kurt's shoulder. Kurt stroked Blaine's hair gently and assured him that everything would be okay, and Blaine tried his very best to believe him.

Kurt, Carole and Burt were absolutely amazing throughout the week – especially Kurt. The boy barely left Blaine's side the entire time he was sick, and he was endlessly patient. He made sure that Blaine was as comfortable as possible given the circumstances, and adequately entertained despite the fact that he was confined to his bed. He made Blaine cups of lemon and ginger tea with honey, and dry toast on the rare occasions that Blaine felt like he could keep it down.

The fifth day was the worst of all.

Blaine spent the entire day writhing in bed, in excruciating pain. His fever was at his highest and he was burning up, his whole body drenched in sweat. His head was so sore he couldn't handle anything brighter than the tiny lamp in the corner of the room, and his vision was blurry and obscured by random flashes and shadows. His nausea had been replaced by intense stabbing pain in his stomach.

Kurt and Carole were by his side throughout the ordeal, and he occasionally felt the cool press of a damp towel on his forehead, or the sensation of fingers sweeping hair from his face.

At one point, everything went extremely fuzzy. He could hear Carole talking, but it sounded muffled, as though he had thick wads of cotton wool stuffed into his ears. Somebody asked him if he was okay, but he couldn't answer. Then, everything went black.

When he came to, he was lying on his back on the bed, his blankets bunched up around his feet. Kurt and Carole were looking down at him. Kurt's lower lip was trembling and he had tears streaking his face, although Carole seemed to be more relieved than anything.

"W-what happened?" Blaine croaked.

"You had a seizure, honey," Carole responded.

"Oh," Blaine said, turning to face Kurt. He flexed his fingers, and Kurt immediately slid his hand into Blaine's.

"I'm tired," Blaine said with a yawn.

"That's okay," Kurt whispered, "you can sleep now."

"Thanks, Kurt. Will you stay with me?"

"Of course."

Over the next 2 days, Blaine began to feel gradually better. His symptoms became less and less severe, and when he awoke on Saturday morning he lay in bed for a several minutes, trying to pinpoint what it was that felt so different – and then he realised. He wasn't in pain anymore.

Gingerly, as if one wrong move could set it off again, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and got to his feet. He sighed in relief when he found that the movement didn't make his stomach churn, and he made his way out of the room and down the stairs.

He could hear the sound of clinking pots and pans coming from the kitchen, and when Blaine entered, he saw Kurt standing in front of the stove, preparing what looked like French Toast. Blaine leaned against the doorframe and watched him for a moment, a soft smile on his face. He cleared his throat to announce his presence.

Kurt spun around. "Oh my god, Blaine!" He cried, quickly removing the pan from the hot stove, "what are you doing up? Are you okay?"

Blaine smiled. "I'm great. I feel good. Really good."

Kurt's face lit up. "Wow, that's – that's fantastic. I'm…gosh, I'm so glad that you're better. I'm so sorry that you had to go through all of that."

Blaine raised his eyebrows. "It's entirely my own fault that I had to go through all of that, Kurt. Why are you apologising? You were amazing." Kurt blushed.

"No, I'm serious!" Blaine continued, taking a step forward. "I don't know how I would have gone through that without you there to help me. It was too much to ask of anyone, Kurt, yet you did it anyway. You held my hair out of my face when I vomited, you wiped the gross sweat off my forehead, put up with my mood swings and bitching and crying." He took another step towards the boy and reached out a hand, running it gently down Kurt's upper arm. "I can't thank you enough."

Kurt blushed even harder, and smiled bashfully. "I'm just glad that it's over," he said.

"You and me both." They laughed lightly, and Kurt glanced back towards the pan on the stove.

"Would you like some French toast? You look like you've lost weight."

Blaine nodded eagerly, suddenly aware of just how hungry he was after so many days of not being able to keep any food down. "I would love some French toast."

As Kurt piled pieces of French toast onto their plates, Blaine grabbed the maple syrup and bananas, and they headed to the dining room to eat. Blaine found himself practically inhaling the food, and he finished his whole plate plus half of Kurt's.

When they were finished, they retreated to the living room, where they found Burt and Carole seated on the couch watching the morning news.

"Wow, kid," Burt said, looking at Blaine as he entered, "you look like you're feeling better."

Blaine nodded. "I feel much better, all thanks to you guys."

"That's fantastic, honey," Carole said. She patted the seat next to her, and Blaine sat down, Kurt squeezing in next to him.

A flicker of light caught Blaine's eye, and he turned to see that the light from the window was reflecting off one of the baubles on the Christmas tree. The tree had been in the living room since Blaine had arrived at the Hummels' in earlier in the month, but he noticed that it now had a rather considerable pile of presents stacked under it.

With a sudden jolt of panic, he jumped to his feet. "Crap!"

The Hummels all turned to look at him in surprise as stared at the Christmas tree.

"You okay, Blaine?" Blaine asked, looking a little concerned.

"What date is it?"

Burt raised an eyebrow. "It's the 24th."

"But that would make it – that would mean -"

"It's Christmas Eve, yeah."

"CRAP!" Blaine exclaimed, running a hand through his hair. "I completely forgot."

"Well, you were a little pre-occupied, buddy, what with the writhing in agony and all -"

"No, no, you don't understand!" Blaine exclaimed, wringing his hands. "I haven't got you guys your presents yet!"

Carole laughed. "Sweetheart, you don't have to get us gifts, it's fine -"

"It's Christmas! Of course I have to get you guy's gifts!"

The Hummels were all staring at Blaine with varying degrees of amusement on their faces, and Blaine let out a cry of frustration. "I have to go. I have to organise the gifts," he said, heading for the stairs.

"Hang on, I'll help you," Kurt said, getting up to follow him.

"No, no, I -"

"Blaine, you're gonna need some ideas of what to get my parents."

Blaine paused for a moment. "Yeah, okay," he said, pausing for a moment to take deep breaths. Fuck. There was so much to do.

"Okay, so we can cross 'Armani suit' off the list," Kurt said with a sigh, crossing out yet another item of the list of gift ideas for his dad. "Honestly Blaine, I don't know why you're so opposed to getting him clothes. Clothes are practical, everybody wears clothes. And fashion is an art."

"Yeah, but Kurt, I don't think your dad would wear any of the things you just suggested," Blaine chuckled. "You just want me to buy him something other than plaid shirts and jeans."

Kurt sighed. "The man is fashionably challenged, it's not my fault. Okay, wait, wait, I have an idea! Our dishwasher sucks. I end up having to do extra hand-washing after every cycle."

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "You want me to get your parents a dishwasher?"

Kurt paused for a moment. "No, you're right, that's not personal enough."

"Okay, do you have any more ideas? There's nothing else they need, or want?"

"They're parents, Blaine. They do parent-ish things, like the dishes. It's hard to think of creative gifts for parents."

Blaine paused for a moment. "Well…" he said, "maybe…we should give them a break from being parents for a bit."

Kurt narrowed his eyes. "I'm listening."

"When was the last time they took a trip, just the two of them?"

"They haven't. I mean, they were supposed to go on honeymoon, but they ended up having to pay my tuition when I went to Dalton for a little while. There was trouble at McKinley, it's a long story, but the point is, they haven't taken a trip."

"They never had a honeymoon?" Blaine asked excitedly.

Kurt's eyes widened. "No. No, Blaine, you can't pay for their honeymoon, that's too much, they'll never accept it!"

"Are you forgetting that I'm rich and famous?"

Kurt snorted. "Full of yourself, more like."

"I'm just stating the facts!"

"Uh huh, sure."

"So where would they want to go?"

"Well…okay, I guess if you're really going to do this…Carole likes tropical locations. Places where she can relax and be pampered and get massages. And dad…well, anywhere with an ocean. He likes to swim."

"Sounds do-able," Blaine said, grabbing his laptop from the bed next to him. After a quick search of a couple of travel websites, he let out a triumphant "A-HA!"

Kurt attempted to peek at his laptop screen. "What've you got?"

"That," Blaine said, bookmarking the page and closing the laptop, "is a surprise." Kurt rolled his eyes. "Fine, I guess I can wait 'till tomorrow."

"Okay, so now I have to figure out what to get Finn."

"Oh, Finn's easy," Kurt said, waving his hand dismissively. "Get him video-games, or food, or…porn, or something. He's easily pleased." Blaine laughed.

"Somehow, I don't think porn is the best option," he said, "but I'll think of something. Now, there's the most important present of all to consider."

Kurt smirked. "Oh, really?"

"Indeed. I heard that you're rather hard to impress."

"That is not true at all. I have all my favourite designers listed on my Facebook page."

"Yeah, but I want to do something more original. I'll think of something."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Okay, but if you give up, remember the list."

They were interrupted by the sound of Kurt's ringtone. "My mama told me when I was young, we are all born superstars…"

Kurt pulled out his phone out of his pocket and glanced down at the screen. "It's Mercedes," he said. "I'm gonna take this. Good luck coming up with a fabulous gift for me by tomorrow morning!" He winked as left the room, closing the door behind him.

Blaine sat in silence for a few seconds, when suddenly, he had a stroke of inspiration. "Yes," he hissed as he lunged for his cellphone, which was sitting on the bedside table. Blaine Anderson, sometimes you have the best ideas.

A wide grin spread across his face as he scrolled through his contacts and hit the 'call' button. The phone rang four times before a familiar female voice answered.

"Blaine, darling! How are you? It's been far too long since we caught up."

Blaine laughed. "Tell me about it! Did you get my email before I left the city?"

"I did. I'm so proud of you for doing this. You deserve some good luck after all the shit you've had to deal with."

"Thank you. I'm feeling really optimistic, for the first time in a long time. Promise we'll hang out when I get back?"

"I can't wait. I still owe you about a million dollars worth of caramel lattes."

Blaine grinned. "Actually…I was kinda hoping you might do me a favour, if you can spare 10 minutes tomorrow at around 10am? Then we can totally call it even on all the lattes."

"I'm sure I can escape from family Christmas for 10 minutes for you, hun. Now what's this all about?

"I'll send you an email explaining everything. Read it and let me know, yeah?"

"Of course."

"Thank you so, so much. You're the best."

"It's no problem at all, that's what friends are for. Merry Christmas, Blainers!"

Blaine laughed loudly, his heart bursting with happiness and excitement. "Merry Christmas, Gaga."