Blaine had been asked if he would like to become an official volunteer at the hospital when the nurses came back from their coffee break and saw Blaine surrounded by many of the patients and their parents, laughing and singing along to whatever Blaine was playing on his guitar. It was almost unbelievable how well he had hit it off with the kids, but Blaine had always been a charismatic, kind child. The nurses knew they wouldn’t hear the end of it until they managed to get Blaine to come back every week and spend time with the patients.

            When Blaine was asked if he’d like to become a volunteer at the hospital, he discussed it with his parents first to see if it would be alright with them.

            “It would look great on your college applications, Blaine,” his father said seriously.

            Blaine paid no attention to his father’s comment. College was so far way and all he could think about was going back to the hospital and making the little kids smile while he played his guitar. Just knowing that he could make those kids feel better, even just for a little while, warmed his heart. Plus, Blaine could talk about Disney movies all he wanted knowing he would have an enthusiastic audience; whenever he tried to talk about his favourite movies with his friends they mocked him, telling him only babies watched Disney movies. No one would even care if they saw him colouring in a colouring book with the other kids.

            So Blaine, while not too concerned about his college applications just yet, immediately went through all the standard procedures to start being a volunteer at the hospital. He took the necessary CPR and first aid courses and was tested for tuberculosis.* Blaine couldn’t think of a happier day than when he was finally given his light blue polo shirt (with the hospital insignia and the word Volunteer sewn on the pocket) and his ID badge. He started going to the hospital with his mother whenever she worked weekends and eventually started going once or twice during the week after school once he got his driver’s license. He didn’t know what it was, but he just had this need in the back of his mind that made him never want to miss a day with the kids. Sure, a lot of them were gone within a couple of days or a week, but sometimes there were kids that were stuck there for months at a time. Blaine couldn’t help but get attached to the little ones that practically begged the nurses to let them leave their room to spend time with Blaine. Sometimes, if he was allowed, Blaine would scrub and gown up to go visit with the little cancer patients in their isolation rooms.*

Blaine was lying in bed, immersed in the latest novel he had gotten for Christmas, when his mother lightly knocked on the door and poked her head into Blaine’s room.

            “Blaine, work just called me in. Do you feel like tagging along?”

            Blaine looked up from his book excitedly.

            “I’d love to! But aren’t the roads kind of a disaster right now? I wouldn’t think they’d be calling anyone in right now, with the weather like this.”

            Blaine’s mother sighed.

            “I know, honey, but I really have no other choice. Surgery doesn’t wait for anyone except the surgeon. We’ll have to drive carefully, that’s all. I think I would be best to take your car as well.” Blaine’s parents both owned sleek and shiny convertibles, which weren’t necessarily the best type of vehicles to be driving in this weather. When Blaine’s parents offered to buy him a car, Blaine went with a lustrous red jeep, and understated, sensible, yet stylish car.

“Okay, sure, just give me a minute.” Blaine changed out of his Dalton sweats for a pair of khakis and his light blue volunteer polo. He shoved his Sketchers into a plastic bag and put on his winter coat, wrapping a gray and red striped knit scarf around his neck. Grabbing his guitar, he ran out the door.

It took about half an hour to get to the hospital instead of the normal ten minutes. Blaine dropped his mother off at the door, before turning around to park in the insane lot. He could imagine how full the emergency room must be, filled with people who had slipped and fallen on the ice or thrown their backs out shovelling snow. Blaine winced as he thought about how many car accidents had occurred in this snowstorm.

Blaine quickly signed in with the security guard at the door and went to the locker room to drop off his coat and change his shoes. Grabbing his guitar, he made his way up to the fifth floor. As Blaine stepped off the elevator, he was immediately greeted by one of his favourite nurses on the floor. She couldn’t be more than 5 or 6 years older than Blaine and she was amazing with the kids. She always had a smile on her face and she spoke with a Southern accent, which added to her charm.

“Blaine! Hi, honey! I didn’t know you were coming up today, especially in this weather.”

Blaine smiled at her. “Hi Caroline! My mom got called in and she asked me if I wanted to tag along.”

“Well, the floor is kind of quiet right now. A lot of the babies are taking their afternoon naps, so maybe we can hold off on the sing-along until later? Maybe you can peek into the different rooms, see if anyone is up for a chat.”

Blaine was a little disappointed. He was looking forward to singing and playing the guitar with the kids. Since the start of winter break Blaine hadn’t had much opportunity to sing, seeing as the Warblers’ practices were on hiatus until school resumed. His dad didn’t really appreciate impromptu concerts when he was trying to work through the latest deal, or when he was entertaining important guests for dinner. Even if Blaine couldn’t perform for the kids right now, he knew he’d get a chance later. For now, Blaine decided he would go visit one of his favourite patients on the floor.

Sierra was a year younger than Blaine, but she quickly became one of his best friends. Although her parents lived Westerville, their work kept them busy, so she was often seen spending time alone in her room. She and Blaine had actually become friends when he was fourteen years old. Sierra has just been diagnosed with leukemia and Blaine was actually a patient himself at the time. She had noticed that a lot of the little kids that had been around for a while were all flocking to a particular room. The news had gotten out that Blaine had been badly beaten at the annual Sadie Hawkins dance, where he dared to ask a boy to go as his date.

Sierra, October, 2008

Sierra was sitting alone in her room, when, for what it seems like the fifth time today, she overheard a conversation between the nurses about the condition of a patient named Blaine. She had overheard a lot of the little kids asking their parents or their primary nurses if it was okay to visit with this Blaine. After trying to concentrate on her school work for a while, her curiosity got the best of her. Everyone seemed to be so concerned about this Blaine person, so she decided to go see for herself what the big deal was.

Sierra climbed carefully out of bed, making sure not to tangle the tubes hanging from her IV pole. She slipped on her cosiest slippers and adjusted the scarf draped over her head. When Sierra had gotten the news that she would have to endure chemotherapy and that she would start losing her hair, she had decided to shave her head as soon as possible to spare herself the pain of waking up and seeing her hair disappearing little by little. Sierra shuffled out of her room and down the hallway toward where everyone had congregated earlier, although it seemed like no one was around at the moment. When she got to the door, she noticed the name written above the room number: Blaine Anderson. Poking her head into the room, she gasped quietly. A boy, maybe a year or two older than her, was sitting alone in bed reading a “Harry Potter” novel. Sierra figured the boy must have been pretty good looking, though she couldn’t tell through his badly beaten features. Several rows of stitches sat along his eyebrows and cheekbones and cuts littered his hands. His nose was bandaged (most likely broken) and the boy seemed to be breathing with a little difficulty because of a rib injury, she guessed. One time her idiot brother got into a drunken bar fight and his opponent kicked him several times in the ribs. For weeks he wasn’t able to talk loudly, or laugh, or even take a deep breath because it hurt so much. His hazel eyes were sad and his shoulders were tense. She hated to interrupt him but before she could turn away from the door, a sneeze took her by surprise. The boy looked up at her, startled.

“I’m sorry, really. Shoot. I was trying to be all quiet and stuff because I didn’t interrupt you. I always hated when my mom would interrupt me in the middle of Order of the Phoenix…” She trailed off. The boy was looking at her strangely.

“Order of the Phoenix? Is that your favourite book?” he asked, quietly.

“Yes, it is. I know, it’s strange, but it’s always been my favourite,” she replied.

“I don’t think it’s strange. My favourite is Goblet of Fire and that’s practically the most disliked out of all the books.”

Sierra smiled, she liked this boy already. She walked into the room, tugging her IV pole along with her and sat down in the chair next to the boy’s bed.

“Well, if Goblet of Fire is your favourite why are you reading Chamber of Secrets?”

The boy almost started to laugh, and then stopped when he realized how much pain just exhaling caused him. He winced.

“Well, I felt like starting from the beginning. I finished Philosopher’s Stone this morning.”

“I see. I agree with you though, sometimes it’s always better to start from the beginning. I’m Sierra,” she held out her hand for him to shake.

“I’m Blaine,” he said, his palm curling around hers. She could feel the raised cuts on the inside of his palm and made sure not to squeeze too hard.

“So, if you don’t mind me being blunt, what happened to you exactly? I’ve been hearing your name all day. Why are you such a hotshot around here, huh?”

Blaine sighed.

“I’ve been volunteering here since last year. I usually try to come around on the weekend and play guitar and have a sing along with all the little kids. They really like it. And sometimes we’ll all just sit and watch a movie, or I’ll read a story to them. The nurses are used to having me around, but I guess it just scared them to see me here as a patient. Especially when I look like this.”

“Well what happened?” she asked.

“Two days ago, at my school’s Sadie Hawkins dance, my date and I were cornered by a few of the bullies. They didn’t quite appreciate our presence at their dance.”

“What? So they beat you and your date up for no reason? Did they get arrested? You can’t just go around beating up a guy and his girlfriend, that’s ridiculous!”

“Well, that’s the thing. I didn’t bring a girl to the dance. I brought a boy,” said Blaine quietly. Although he was looking down, Sierra could see the tears forming in his eyes.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. That’s horrible, I’m so sorry they did that to you Blaine, you didn’t deserve it.”

Blaine looked at her and tried to smile. Sierra covered his hand with hers.

“Okay, that’s enough. We don’t need to talk about it.”

“Well, okay…” said Blaine slowly. “Aren’t you going to tell me why you’re here?” He looked at her pointedly.

“Fair’s fair I suppose,” she laughed. “I have cancer. Leukemia. They just diagnosed me. I’m starting chemotherapy tomorrow.”

“If you’ve only just been diagnosed, then why are you wearing a scarf on your head? Surely you haven’t lost your hair yet?”

“Observant are we? No, technically my hair hasn’t started falling out. I figured I’d rather beat them to the punch then watch my hair disappear.”

“You must be pretty brave,” said Blaine.

“I don’t really have any other choice if I want to beat this thing,” she said strongly.

“On one hand though, you do get to accessorize with scarves. The one you’re wearing right now is gorgeous, by the way.”

 “So you’re one of those…” she said, teasingly.

Blaine scrunched his nose, “What do you mean?”

“I’d never think you were a flamboyant gay,” she winked.

“I’m not! Well, at least…I don’t think I am! You don’t have to be flamboyant to appreciate a good scarf.”

“True.”

After that day, Blaine and Sierra became fast friends. Blaine always made sure to visit when she was in the hospital. When they were really lucky, Blaine was allowed to take Sierra to the movies, or to the mall. Over a period of two years, Sierra had gone between being sick, almost dying and getting increasingly better. Right now she was the latter, but she had been stuck in the hospital for most of December. On Christmas Eve Blaine had come to the hospital to make a deal with the nurses.  Blaine asked if they could deliver Sierra’s present before she woke up on Christmas morning, just like Santa Claus. Blaine hadn’t been able to make it to the hospital because of the busyness of the holidays, but Sierra had made a big deal about showing off her present via a mobile photo and making sure Blaine was happy with his DVD boxed sets of Queer As Folk (the note attached said, Just make sure you don’t watch this around your parents!).

Blaine didn’t bother to knock on the door when he got to Sierra’s room. Instead he managed to take a run and leap on Sierra’s bed, yelling out, “MERRY CHRISTMAS!” Sierra started to laugh as Blaine made his way up the bed, hugging his best friend when he reached her.

“Blainers, get off of me now.”

“What?” Blaine pouted. “No Christmas hug for your best friend?”

“Okay, fine. But then you need to get off.”

Blaine laughed. He ran his fingers through the silky material of the sky blue scarf wrapped around Sierra’s head.

“Such a beautiful scarf, who got it for you?”

“Blaine,” she laughed, “it was Santa, of course. Who else delivers presents in the middle of the night?”

“Oh, it that what they’re calling me now?” Blaine and Sierra both turned towards the door, where Caroline was standing, hands on her hips.

Sierra looked at her quizzically. “I thought Santa was from the North Pole, not Texas? I could have sworn he was a man, too…”

“Enough out of you,” said Caroline with a laugh. “Blaine, honey, can you do me a huge favour?”

Blaine sat up from the bed.

“I need you to go down to the ER and bring up a patient. It’s packed down there and the poor boy is completely alone. The doctor down there was willing to send him up here, where he’s not surrounded by crazy people. He’s got a suspected broken wrist, but he’s all by himself and the Orthopaedist said it was okay if he tended to him up here.”

“Sure, I don’t mind.”

“Thank, honey. Here’s his info, make sure to ask the triage* nurse to point you in the right direction. Don’t forget to check his bracelet either!”* Blaine grabbed the piece of paper Caroline held out to him and made his way towards the elevators. The paper read:

Kurt Hummel

DOB: 27/05/1994

As Blaine approached the Emergency Room, his ears were filled with the normal cacophony of babies crying and inpatient people moaning and groaning about the wait time. Blaine approached the nurse at the triage desk.

“Hello, I’m looking for a patient by the name Kurt Hummel. I’m bringing him up to Peds.”

The nurse blinked at him, seemingly lost in thought.

“Kurt Hummel…yes, alright. He’s the one in the wheelchair by the vending machines. He’s wearing a very fancy jacket and scarf and is carrying a bag in his lap. You’ll see him, just go that way”. The nurse waved in a general direction. Blaine figured he’d better just look around.

After almost running into several stretchers randomly sitting in the hallway, Blaine spotted the row of vending machines. Next to them, a boy sat in a wheelchair, hugging his left arm close to his body. Blaine approached him.

“Hi, I’m Blaine.” He held out his right arm to shake hands with the boy.

He looked up at him. “Um…I can’t really…” The boy mumbled, gesturing to his injured arm.

Woah, he looks really familiar. Blaine noted the boy’s bright blue eyes and the light brown hair swept off his forehead. He was wearing a gorgeous navy jacket and a Marc by Marc Jacobs bag was sitting at his feet.

“Oh, god. Right, I’m sorry. Here.” Blaine awkwardly switched hands and laughed at himself. Blaine fumbles a little, struck by the gorgeousness of the boy. He noticed that his eyes were red rimmed and he had tear tracts along his rosy cheeks.

He cleared his throat. “I’m Kurt,” he said, as he held out his right hand. The boys clasped their hands together in a quick shake. Blaine noticed how soft Kurt’s hands were.

I hope my calluses aren’t too noticeable, he thought.