A baseball bat to the head. That was all it had taken and Kurt was sitting in the uncomfortable hospital chair, holding his boyfriend’s hands. Seeing his boyfriend lying there with stitches above his stupid (and by stupid, he meant perfect) pointy eyebrow and a needle coming out of his arm made Kurt shiver. He never imagined that he would see Blaine so vulnerable, so…cold looking. Kurt carefully adjusted the blankets around him, tucking them carefully. It didn’t seem to make a difference because the blip on the heart monitor continued on with it’s steady pace. Kurt would find it annoying if it didn’t mean that his love was still alive.

            He was glad the nurse hadn’t come in to make him leave because visiting hours were over. She was sweet. Kurt wouldn’t have left anyway, he’d have to be carried out of the hospital room if they ever wanted him to leave poor Blaine. His parents had gone hours ago. Kurt was lucky Carole was working tonight. That left him time to stay without being hassled by his father. Too much, at least. But he could ignore the text messages.

            He would beat himself up over this for the rest of his life. Had Kurt not been running late, him and Blaine would have been safely in the movie theater. Instead, he’d gotten held up with Finn asking for advice about Rachel… again. By the time he’d gotten there, Blaine was on the ground, a terrifying puddle of blood surrounding him. Kurt didn’t believe it until he was holding an unconscious Blaine in his arms. He was too surprised. Why something like this would happen was beyond him. The who was an even bigger question. There was hardly a person in sight. Nothing could shake Kurt from his stupor until he was pulled away from his bleeding boyfriend.

            Kurt was more scared now than he had ever been in his life, except for maybe when his dad had his heart attack. The doctors wouldn’t say much. Said they couldn’t assess him properly until he was awake. The cut was minor, but it was a stubborn head wound. There weren’t any broken bones, but they were sure that he probably had some wicked concussion. No one takes a baseball bat to the head at full speed with just a cut to walk away with. That would just be too easy.

            Kurt looked up at Blaine’s face as he felt the twitch in his hand. This had happened a few times now, and every time Kurt’s tear-stained face lit up in hope. But they had all been just a false alarm. This time, the twitch was followed by a small groan and Blaine slowly flicked his eyes open.

            Kurt watched Blaine register where he was. He squinted at the pain in his head, his hand going instinctively to the stitches. Kurt caught his hand. “No, no. Don’t touch it, sweetheart. It’s okay.” Kurt wasn’t prepared for the jump and look of sheer terror on Blaine’s face. The only other time Kurt had seen anything like this on Blaine’s face was after the slushy incident. There was no way he was expecting this.

            Kurt watched as Blaine moved away from him on the bed, confusion flickering over his own expression. “W-where am I?” He heard Blaine’s hoarse voice stutter. “Who are you?”