Author's Notes: BLAINE'S POV


I drove back to Dalton in about ten minutes. The hospital wasn't that far away. I stayed in the car for about an hour though. Just thinking.

You know those times when you just need the silence? Yeah. It was kind of like that sitting in the dark of the student parking lot.

When my I felt insanity creeping up after that time, I finally got out of the car and walked to my dorm hall to find Jeff, Nick, David, and Wes sitting on the floor outside my door. I sighed when I saw them but let them in anyway.

Jeff and Nick assumed position on my bed, David on my bean bag, and Wes sitting at his feet. I sat in the chair at my desk.

"We wanted to give you space yesterday, but we want to know how he's doing," Jeff spoke up.

"He's stable as stable can get with his condition?"

"Did he get a diagnosis?"

"Uhm, yeah. He has anorexia and bulimia," I said without emotion. Stay brave.

"Oh my god," Nick gasped.

"How bad is it?"

I wanted to be brave, but that question really hit me.

"Pretty bad," I choked up. "The doctor said a seizure is unlikely to happen again, and his speech is getting better-"

"His speech?" Wes questioned. "You hadn't told us about that."

"Apparently it's because his brain lost oxygen during the heart attack and his speech was affected. It was like a slur in a way."

"Oh, wow."

"Well, that's awesome that it's better!" Thad spoke encouragingly. "It means his body is slowly healing small parts of himself."

"But his kidneys are failing," I sort of snapped. Truth be told, what Thad said was encouraging, but there were more expressing issues that countered it.

"My aunt's kidneys were failing once," Nick shared. "She was on dialysis for a week, and it worked really well. She hasn't had any problems in five years."

"That's how long Kurt is on it for- a week."

"You seemed worried about something bigger. What's wrong?"

I looked out the window. My friends know me so well. It was really such a relief to let them know what was going on.

"He doesn't want treatment. You can see it in his eyes. It's almost like he's planning something. Like he's trying to get better just to get rid of the doctors and his parents. And me."

"Can you blame him?" Jeff asked. The question shocked me.

"What?"

"He literally dying to change how he looks. With that kind of obsession, he's going to be mad at anyone who gets in his way."

"That's really true," Wes agreed. "I had a cousin who was addicted to cocaine for three years. It got so bad that it really affected his health. He was in the hospital for so long because he kept trying to commit suicide, but, eventually, he made progress with therapy. He has a family now, but, back then, he was violent to anyone who just wanted to help him."

I nodded in understanding.

"I didn't know that," Thad looked down at Wes who just shrugged.

"You shouldn't be worried about him trying to shrug you off is what I'm saying. He's stuck in his mind right now and turning in on himself. I'm sorry, but the last thing he's thinking of is you."

"Should I break up with him while he gets better?"

"NO!" they all yelled in unison.

"Shhhh!" I warned.

"Dude, I'm the floor RA. It's fine," Wes replied.

"Do not break up with him, Anderson."

'Dumbest idea I've ever heard."

"Sorry, "I mumbled and looked down.

"Just… help him. Take his mind off of being in the hospital. It must suck to be in there," Jeff suggested. The others nodded in agreement.

"What do you have in mind?" I asked.



KURT'S POV


The doctor left with promises of a "nice" shrink in the early evening. My dad turned the TV on against my will hours later. There was too much of a glare form the afternoon sun to see the screen.

"I need to see what's going on outside of this hospital," he had said. Story of my life.

Carole poked her head in the room around noon. "It's lunchtime, Burt." They had taken up the habit of eating meals elsewhere because it was too awkward in my own room.

"Oh my god," she said. "What happened?"

"They're trying to kill me," I muttered. My dad got up, turned the TV off, and went to join Carole.

"I'll explain over lunch," he said. They left, but not before Carole was able to inform me that Blaine was here.

Dear Christ. I'm tied up and probably look like shit. It's the opposite of kinky, dammit.

My boyfriend came in anyway. He was carrying a purple basket with a big white bow not op of it. I hung my head.

"Uhm… what did you do?" he asked, gesturing to the un-kinky restraints. The question could have been take accusingly, but he honestly looked so confused, so I didn't get mad.

"I tried to rip my tube out," I stated with a little bit of shame. Blaine winced.

"Which one?" he braved a small smile though. I forced a laugh.

"The one up my nose." Blaine came to sit at my side. He set the basket on my lap.

"What's this?" I asked, trying to see what all was inside.

"A gift from me and the Warblers. We figured it would help to not be so bored here," he shrugged.

"That's really thoughtful, baby," I genuinely smiled. "Show me what's in it," I said excitedly.

"Okay," he started pulling things out. "We got you some hair styling stuff, your iPod, Chapstick, fuzzy socks, and a sudoku book." I chuckled at the last one.

"That was Wes. Sorry," he smiled.

"I love it so much. Tell them thank you. From the bottom of my heart."

Blaine smiled even wider. It felt good.

A knock on my door. Only the people who work here do that. My family and Blaine just walk in. I rolled my eyes as some fancy lady walked in and introduced herself as the psychologist.

"I'll just catch up with your parents, Kurt," Blaine said to excuse himself. He took the basket from my lap and kissed my head before leaving.

Dr. Willams sat on the rolling stool that every doctor sat on.

"Your boyfriend is so darling. It's even written on your chart. The nurses love him."

That actually made me smile. Leave it to Blaine to make such an impression anywhere.

"How long have you been together?"

"Eight months," I gave a short answer, not sure of her still. She hummed.

"And you've been starving yourself for four more months than that. How have you hid it from him the entirety of your relationship?" she asked with such incredulousness.

"It was easy during the fall semester of school," I opened up more. "It was the first time that we were technically living together."

"Because your school is a boarding school," she added.

"Yes. He didn't know my habits."

" I see. He didn't think anything was out of the ordinary until you pushed it further," she hypothesized.

"I guess," I admitted, tugging on the restraints of my wrists. "Can I have these off?" I added. "They make me nervous."

"Well, we have to talk about what happened," she stated like a mother scolding her child. I fell silent and avoided her eyes.

"What were you feeling in the moment?"

I shrugged like I didn't know.

"What triggered you?"

Again, I shrugged.

"Was it how many calories you saw the bag had?" she guessed. I took a deep breath without thinking.

"Let's see what it says," she said and stood up. She took a black marker out of her white coat and wrote on the plastic bag. When she moved out of the way, I saw that it read "30,000 energy beans."

She also reached to untie my wrists then my ankles.

"Thank you," I murmured, rubbing them.

"Were calories the main thing you watched when you starve yourself?" she questioned me.

"Yeah."

"What you need to work on is learning what a healthy relationship with food is. I've had a session with your dad already, and it seems like you've never had a steady one after your mother died."

"I hadn't really thought of that," I admitted.

"Eating disorder-thinking can be something acquired during childhood. While it doesn't have any severe consequences, it can explode into a full-blown eating disorder if intervention is not held," she explained. "Along with working on that, you also need some support for when you have flashbacks or life gets a little too hard. Taking it out on yourself solves nothing in the end, Kurt," she said with such severity that all I could do was nod with wide eyes. She patted my hand and stood.

"Thank you for allowing me to interrupt your time with your boyfriend to talk. I'll let your doctor know we talked and get back to you on the treatment for after you're discharged here," she added before leaving the room.

"Okay," I simply said. She was kind of overwhelming, but some things stuck with me.

A journal and pen stuck out form the basket. Blaine had forgotten to tell me about it. I grabbed both and wrote.

Taking it out on yourself solves nothing in the end.