So I wont let you close enough to hurt me.

No, I wont ask you to just desert me.

I cant give you what you think you gave me.

Its time to say goodbye to turning tables.

It was 3:21p.m when his phone rang with an unknown number. "Hello?" By now Cooper was used to the occasional random phone call from either a crazed fan that had managed to get a hold of his number or from Blaine whenever he was just calling to say hi while using one of his friends phones just to keep his brother on his toes.

"Cooper Anderson?" It was an unfamiliar voice and decidedly male. It didnt sound excited the way a fanboy would, meaning that this man was all business. Maybe it was about that callback for Lord of the Rings.

"Speaking."

"You need to come to New York. Im sorry that this is so sudden and I really dont have an explanation but you need to be here." And thats where it got confusing. Why did he have to go to New York? There was nothing there except Broadway (which is dead, by the way) and—Blaine.

"What happened? Whats wrong with Blaine?" It all tumbled out too quickly and he was out the door so fast he almost forgot to lock it. He flicked on his Bluetooth, already opening the app to get a plane ticket.

"Youre just as quick as he is; I see where he gets his sharpness." The mans tone was resigned; he seemed so tired. "There was a... um... an accident. Not really an accident per-say."

"Cut to the chase, kiddo. Im already hunting a plane ticket." Cooper thumped down the two flights of stairs to the lobby, shoving open the frosted glass doors with far more force than necessary.

"He tried to kill himself and hes in the hospital." He almost fell flat on his face, dress shoe catching a crack in the sidewalk and forcing him stumbling into the side of his car.

"He what? Are you sure its my brother?"

"Blaine Anderson. Id assume so considering you were the name written under emergency contacts. He doesnt seem like the guy to want to invite a random stranger into his life."

It was around 10:30p.m when he ended up making it to New York. Rushing to grab a last minute ticket for 4 oclock had been hectic, not to mention his lack of clothing and luggage. It was either the time zone jump or stress that had induced the headache that pounded in his skull. He suspected the latter seeing as flying never affected him before. As a child he always remembered being thrilled about the idea of New York. Skyscrapers that seemed to hold to their name and touch the sea of blue above; lights that went on forever and bridges that stretched unfathomable distances. But that was in the mind of a child.

Now, all but sprinting from the airport to hail a taxi, the city seemed far less appealing. It was loud and cold and the snow that dusted the pavement was going to be hell to his shoes. Hed gotten the hospital address from whats-his-face that had called him (Christian?) and after finally getting a cab, he was on his way.

He wished he could tell the asshole driving to stop talking on the phone and go faster or else he wouldnt get paid. Unfortunately, he couldnt afford to be a dick unless he felt like walking. Cooper drummed his fingers against the headrest of the seat in front of him, earning a glare from the driver over his shoulder. His cell phone felt heavy in his pocket, ringer turned on for what felt like the first time ever in case he got a call.

The cars surrounding the taxi honked and swerved, manic as always as he was eased through the traffic and ever closer to his brother. How bad was the damage? Had he tried to hang himself? How had he attempted it? Was he ever going to be okay? Cooper sucked in a shuddering breath, teeth biting into his lower lip as he closed his eyes. He was such a fucking idiot. He didnt know who to blame more. Did he blame himself? Because it was him that ran away to University and left Blaine behind to deal with their dickhead of a father. Did he blame said dickhead?

His forehead thumped against the headrest in front of him and he let out a quiet groan. Or was it just Blaines fault because he was an idiot? He had always been stupid, always trying to get into trouble even when there was really no reason to, which was exactly what made Blaine his brother.

The car seemed to pull to a stop far too slowly, which was rather redundant. Cooper tossed a few measly bills at the driver, muttering something about keeping the change that even he didnt understand before bolting for the doors. His polished shoes squeaked unhappily against the sterile floors as he made his way toward the receptionist desk.

"Could you tell me what room Blaine Anderson is in? Its kind of important." His eyes flicked everywhere but at her face, fingernails tapping out a mangled beat against the hardtop of the counter.

"Are you family?" Her voice was almost bored and he heard the pop of bubblegum. How fucking cliché.

"Yes, Im family." He pulled out his wallet, searching for his ID before sliding the card under her nose. He finally risked a glance at her then, and it was definitely worth the look on her face. To watch the way her eyes bugged out slightly as she glanced from the card to his face and back again. He almost felt the tingle of satisfaction from being noticed. Almost.

"Oh, Im so sorry, Mr. Anderson." She typed up a few things on her keyboard, manicured nails tapping with practised speed as she cast him shy looks every few seconds. "Intensive care unit, C wing, room 221."

And he was gone, all but dashing down the hallway and calling back a measly thank you over his shoulder.

Cooper all but threw himself into the door, struggling with the handle to an embarrassing degree before it finally swung open. And there, slouched in the bedside chair against Blaines cot, was the one person he didnt even think of blaming until now. Kurt. "You did this."

He barely moved from his sunken position in the armchair, "Havent we already settled this? Or was that punch not enough?" he spat before slowly turning to face him. His breath stuttered and something else washed over his face. "Cooper."

"You did this to him, didnt you?" He took a step into the room, pushing the door closed with a barely-there click before moving towards the bed in the middle with purpose, intentionally circling around the end away from Kurt to his brothers other side.

"Cooper, n-no, no I didnt do anything," he practically croaked, fingers tight around the arms of the chair. "He—Blaine did this to himself. I tried to stop it, Cooper, I tried so hard, but—"

"You didnt fucking try hard enough, Kurt," he snapped, shooting the other man an icy glare before leaning down and pressing a kiss into Blaines messy hair. "I know that you left him. I know what happened. I know because he called me that night and went on and on while he fucking cried his eyes out because you left him, Kurt. You left him alone with our bastard of a father. You were the reason that I didnt have to come back. Because I really thought for sure that because he found you, he would be okay for awhile." Cooper let out a bitter laugh, fingers touching at his brothers forearm. "Looks like I was wrong, huh?"

Kurt shook his head disbelievingly, "I thought he would be okay. I thought…that that was how Blaine was. He bounces back. I didnt think it would turn out like this. I didnt know. Im so sorry, Cooper. If I could turn back time and fix it, I would," the words were a whisper, barely heard over the steady beeping of Blaines heart monitor. "But I cant."

"Youre right. You cant. You fucked up and at least you know that you cant fix it. Which is almost surprising in itself because youve always been so fucking hard-headed." Cooper circled the bed again, stopping to stand beside the man slumped in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Where were you?" Kurt asked. "Where were you when Blaine was shooting himself up with drugs and dancing around town with every available gay man and drinking away all of his problems until his memory dissolved? I didnt know he was here and you did. Whats your excuse?"

"Because I thought he was okay, Kurt! I have called him once a week for the past four years of my life to make sure that hes been okay and hes always sounded fine. Always gone on about how great life in New York was. There was nobody to call me and tell me that he was hurting behind the scenes. Because I, like you, thought he might bounce back!" He unfolded his arms, waving them about his head. "And why the fuck didnt you call me when he was put in here? Why did I have to hear it from his roommate who I didnt even know existed?"

"No. No," Kurt snarled, nearly stumbling his way from the chair. "You do not get to push this all on me. Im sorry that you were the last thing on my mind while I was trying to save my ex-boyfriend. Im sorry that I forgot to ring you up all cheerily and tell you that your little brother is a drug-addicted whore. Now, wouldnt that be a merry conversation between old friends? Oh, hi Cooper, so I just met your brother at the local gay club but he was so drunk off his ass that he didnt remember me. And did I mention that I also found him sleeping in his freezing English classroom? Dont forget about the fact that he cuts himself. It was so great catching up with you!"

"Yes, I did expect you to have done that! If he wasnt going to tell me everything than maybe you should have been fucking smart enough to do it yourself! But no, it all has to be about you. You have to go around and try and fix everyone even when you cant," Cooper all but shouted as he leaned over Kurt slightly. "Hes my fucking brother."

Kurt threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. "He was my fucking boyfriend! I was the one who was in love with him, I was the one who held him when he cried and kissed away his tears, I was the one who gave a shit about him when he came to me with a black eye. Cooper, you fucking left him alone with that monster. I tried to get him to go for help, I tried to tell others, but he was so damn prideful that he wouldnt let me. I had to leave him because he was drowning himself and every second with him was killing me." He slumped back down. "Its still killing me."

"But you werent there to kiss away his tears when he really needed you. He broke his wrist, did you know that? The day you broke up with him he went home crying and Dad saw him and dragged him to the kitchen and beat the fucking shit out of him. I flew home and took Blaine to the hospital myself. He knew I had to go. He told me I shouldnt stay behind to look after him, that I shouldnt sacrifice my life for him. And he said he hated you. He hated you so much because you just left him there feeling so fucking useless and alone and he hated you for it!" His voice was still ever climbing, fingers twisting in the strands of his hair.

"I cant change what I did, Cooper and Ill regret that day for the rest of my life. I tried to save him then and Im still trying to save him now. Dont you see that, Cooper? Dont you see that I care?" Kurt wouldnt look at him, eyes trained on the stained linoleum. "Im sorry that I didnt try harder back then."

"Youre trying to put a band aid on a bullet wound, Kurt." His voice softened slightly, hands moving from his hair to slip into the pockets of his slacks and he let out a resigned sigh.

"Maybe I am. You know what? I cant save everybody and maybe I cant save anybody, but I cant stop trying. I wont give up on him, Cooper, not even if he sucks every damn shred of life out of me. I love Blaine and I know that everything is my fault, but thats exactly the reason why I cant leave him again," he exclaimed, thick tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Just dont let him down again." And with that, he was gone.

*oOo*

If Blaine could cry, he would. There was something ultimately cruel about being able to hear what was happening, being able to know that hisbrother and Kurt were fighting right fucking there in front of him and he couldnt react. He couldnt pick a side. He couldnt speak. He felt like he was on Tetrodotoxin; paralyzed but still able to feel everything.

He wanted to just wake up, to slide out of the uncomfortable bed and wrap his arms around his brothers waist and cry until he couldnt breathe. It was the one thing he wanted and the one thing he couldnt fucking have. They were yelling, raising their voices and probably getting in each others faces and Blaine was just waiting for someone to get hit.

"I wont give up on him, Cooper, not even if he sucks every damn shred of life out of me. I love Blaine and I know that everything is my fault, but thats exactly the reason why I cant leave him again." Kurts voice cracked, breaking at the end and he could almost feel their eyes on him. Cooper murmured something and then disappeared, door clicking shut behind him.

And Kurt was there once more, fingertips touching at his arm as his breath ghosted over the skin not covered by the gown. The tip of his nose was cold where it brushed the hair dusting his forearm. "Every word of that was true, you know," he whispered, and Blaine could feel the way his lips moved just centimetres away. "Every word."

And that was so fucking cruel. Nobody was allowed to just say those things right in front of him whether they knew he was conscious or not because that was fucking unfair. It was unfair to talk about him behind his back except right in front of him and expect him to not have any reaction to it. There would be hell to pay when (if?) he woke up.

Was that all he had to look forward to anymore? Mind dropping in and out of focus interlaced with the pain of flashbacks and memories that he couldnt wipe out. Was all he had to look forward to was whether or not he would wake up?

Kurts lips touched at the skin above the bandage on his wrist and there was a quiet sniffle. Blaine couldnt decide whether he wanted kill Kurt or kiss him, and that was the biggest problem of all.