Kurt woke up with a gasp, a sharp pain shooting through his head. His vision was blurry and there were beeping and buzzing coming from all around him. There was something in his arm and his throat was dry.

  He was in a hospital. 

  He was in a hospital. 

  “Blaine,” he gasped, and the pain in his head got sharper, as did the pain in his side. Broken ribs.

  He tried sitting up, but his body wouldn’t let him, nor did the machines he was connected to.

  “Blaine,” he said again, a little louder. “Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, Blaine.”

   His heart started to raise, the machine beside him going nuts, and a nurse immediately came rushing to his room.

  “Sir,” she said. “Sir, you need to calm down,”

  Again with the fucking Sir. He thought angrily. I don’t care about courtesies just tell me where the fuck Blaine is!

  “Where –” he said, eyes rolling in his head. There was so much pain. But he needed to see Blaine. “Where – is he?”

  “Blaine Anderson can’t be visited at the moment, I’m afraid.” she said, not looking directly at him.

  “What?” He struggled against his exhaustion. “Wh – why?”

  The worst possible scenarios shot through his mind, freezing his heart.

  No.

  “He’s not –” he trailed off, drawing a sharp breath, the pain in his chest rushing through him again. “Is – is he?”

  The nurse shook her head. “He’s alive.” she said.

  Kurt sagged into the bed a little.

  Alive. He let the word rush through him. He’s alive. Alive. Alive. Alive.

  “But only barely.” she added then, and Kurt looked up at her, head screaming. And it was going so well.

  “Why – why – what’s wrong with him?” he breathed, heart thumping in his chest.

  “He’s being prepared to go in for surgery.” she explained. “A fracture of bone broke loose from the upper part of his spine in the crash, and if they don’t find it and take it out in time…” she fell silent, looking up at Kurt and meeting his eyes. For the first time he could see that she was actually human.

  “He’ll die,” he said, his shaky voice barely a whisper.

  “I’m afraid so.” she said with a weak nod. “But we’ve got our best on it. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  Her attempt of reassessment was weak, but Kurt found himself appreciating her trying. He nodded numbly.

  “When will I get to see him?”

  “If the surgery is a success,” she looked down on her notepad for a second, “Tomorrow. He will need time waking and sobering up after the surgery, and preferably get some rest.”

  Kurt nodded again. Then he remembered the reason to why he’d been in a car in the first place. “When will I be able to walk again?”

  “Well technically now, but we can’t let you. Your concussion is powerful and you need to rest your ribs.”

  “How about a – “ He searched his mind for an alternative to walking that would get him moving. “How about a wheelchair?”

  She thought on this for a moment. “I will have to speak to a doctor.” she said, and left the room after asking him if there was anything else he needed.

  Kurt lay staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, so tired he could barely breathe. 

  Blaine. He thought. Be okay, okay? Be okay. I’m coming for you as soon as I can.

  He closed his eyes, unable to keep them open anymore.

  Quinn, He thought then, just before falling asleep. Be okay, okay? I’m coming as soon as I can. And I’ll finally get to see your daughter.

  His sleep was light and worried, and he awoke again after only three hours. Blaine hadn’t gotten out of surgery yet, they said. Sleep some more, and you’ll get to see him tomorrow.

  He couldn’t sleep some more, though, so in the end they ended up giving him a thick and weirdly sweet-tasting liquid that made it impossible for him to stay awake.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The next day they had him eat something. Or, well, they tried to. Kurt refused eating. He knew it would only come back up again. So instead they continued giving him vitamins or whatever it was through a tube in his arm, pumping it directly into his blood. 

  Around midday a doctor came into his room. He was tall and broad shouldered, looking almost ridiculously masculine; like he came right out of the Perfect Man Factory, as a favorite exemplar.

  “Blaine –?” he croaked, making the single name suffice as a question.

  The doctor nodded. “He made it. You’ll be able to see him in a couple of hours.”

  Kurt felt himself shudder, his sight getting blurry. He made it. He made it. He made it.

  “Thank you.” he said.

  There was a moment’s silence, then the doctor spoke again,

  “I understand you want to go see someone,” he said, and he noticed how deep his voice was. Kurt blinked an extra time.

  “Yes.” Kurt managed, eyelids drooping. “Yeah, my friend. My other friend, not Blaine. Though I want to see him too, obviously.” he felt himself rambling. It easily happened when  he was tired, but it was difficult to stop. He tried his best. “Quinn. Quinn Fabray. She’s a friend of mine, and she – she came in earlier today – yesterday,” he corrected himself. “Early yesterday morning.” he further corrected himself. “She, uh, sheee,” He squinted. How did you put it, exactly? 

  “Baby?” he ended up with. “Birth… giving?”

  The doctor hid a smile. “I’ll see if she’s still here.” he said. Kurt groaned at how stupid he must’ve sounded. Especially to a doctor.  “Are you family?”

  “Eh, no.” Not biologically. He added sourly to himself.

  “I’ll see what I can do.” said the doctor with a nod, exiting the room.

  After another hour and a half, a nurse, a different one this time, came in with a wheelchair. After her came another nurse, the one from before. She proceeded to make the machines he was connected to portable, then helped him into the chair.

  The two women lifted him up from the bed and carried him to the wheelchair, forbidding him from doing anything. Kurt big his tongue, clenching his jaws, wanting to protest, but went a long. He had to see Quinn. He had to see someone before he went nuts with worry.

  They wheeled him through what felt like an endless net of mostly identical corridors. For the most part he kept his eyes to the floor, wanting to avoid looking at people and also being so incredibly nauseous he could barely sit up straight.

  Finally they came to a stop, and the new nurse knocked on the door lightly, then opened it to let Kurt in.

  Quinn was sitting up on her bed, a bundle held to her bare chest. The nurse asked if they should come back later, but Quinn urged them not to.

  They left them alone once Kurt was by Quinn’s bedside.

  The two friends were silent for a moment, then both spoke at once,

  “How are you?” “How’re you feeling?”

  Kurt chuckled, pain shooting through him. Though he could barely feel it this time, eyes staring at the bundle Quinn was holding.

  “Is it –?”

  She nodded, looking down at the baby with such love in her eyes it nearly took the air out of Kurt just looking at it.

  A girl. She’d been right. (and so had the ultrasound, but that didn’t matter as much)

  “Did you – did you name her?” he asked, finding his voice shaking.

  Quinn nodded again. “Lucy.” she said. “No deeper reason, just… Like the name. Suits her.” She smiled down at her child, eyes blurry.

  “Lucy,” Kurt repeated. There was a lump in his throat, and he felt his eyes sting. He kept quiet until Lucy was done eating, or drinking. Whichever you prefer.

  “She –” Kurt looked at the baby, seeing her face for the first time. “She looks like a raisin.”

  Quinn laughed softly. “This is nothing.” she said. “You should’ve seen her yesterday.”

  Kurt’s smile fell a little. “Yeah, I’m – I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I…”

  She looked up at him. “Are you crazy?” she said. “Don’t dare apologizing. I’m just glad you’re okay. You’re okay, right?”

  He thought on it for a moment. “I’m not sure.” he said finally. “I will be once I see Blaine.”

  “You haven’t seen him yet?” she asked, eyes a little wide. 

  “He’s currently recovering from surgery.” he said, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

  “Is he – is he going to be okay?”

  “Yeah.” Kurt nodded, barely able to believe it himself. It was all going to be okay. 

  “Hey,” she said after a second. “You wanna hold her?”

  “Wh – what?”

  Quinn laughed silently. “Do you want to hold her?”

  “Hol – hold her? Hold Lucy?”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s what I’m proposing.” said Quinn with a little roll of her eyes. Kurt hesitated.

  “I’m weak.” he said. “I could drop her.”

  Quinn shook her head, shifting in the bed. Her movement was slow, and she was connected to a machine of her own. Her heartbeat raised a little as she scooted over the bed, the beeping quickening. Kurt looked up at her worriedly.

  “I’m fine.” she said. “Now put your hands on your lap. You don’t have to lift her if you feel uncertain.” Kurt put his hands in his lap like he was told, and adjusted them according to Quinn’s instructions.

  And then there was a baby in his arms.
  She was so tiny, so light. Kurt gasped softly, looking down at Lucy’s face. She’d fallen asleep, and drew small quick breathes, her tiny, tiny mouth open slightly. “She –” he said again. “She’s the most beautiful raisin I’ve ever seen.”

  Quinn laughed, and tears were running down her face. Kurt was crying too, he noticed when a teardrop fell and landed on Lucy’s blanket. He was crying happy tears. It had been years since last, and he’d often thought that happy crying was something he could never do again, but, again, he’d been wrong.

   “Well,” he said then. “Apart from Blaine, of course.”

  Quinn looked at him, her heart feeling like it was going to burst in her chest. This was the first time she’d heard him talking about his little brother in a positive light, without any darkness on his face.

  Kurt Hummel. She thought to herself. You’ve grown up so much.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Kurt stayed with Quinn and Lucy for a long while. Mostly they sat quiet.
  When Lucy woke up in Kurt’s arms, her tiny pink face turned into a grimace and she started crying. Kurt just froze, staring down at the baby, then up at Quinn, who laughed at the look on his face before taking her child gently back into her arms.

  The nurses came back and wheeled him back to his room after about an hour. She would go home soon, Quinn told him before he left, so they’d see each other once he was out of the hospital.

  He managed to sleep another hour or so, woken up by a soft knock on the door. Yet another nurse entered the room.

  “He’s awake.” she said, walking up to his bed and helping him back into his wheelchair.

  Kurt’s heart hammered hard in his chest as the nurse pushed him – slow as a fucking snail –  through corridor after corridor. They arrived surprisingly quickly.

  When the door opened, Kurt found it hard to breathe.

  On the bed on the other side of the room, lay Blaine. There was a thick pillow under his head, and a thick, white cast around his neck, and another on his right arm.

  The nurse wheeled him to the left side of Blaine’s bed, did something with the machine they’d taken with them, then left the room silently.

  “Blaine…” Kurt whispered, reaching out and touching his arm lightly. Blaine opened his eyes, the cast around his neck stopping him from looking sideways.

  “Kurt?” Blaine croaked. His voice was thick and raspy, and he sounded exhausted.

  Kurt felt his chest heave heavily. “Yes. Yes. Baby, it’s me, I’m here.”

  Blaine’s eyelids were heavy, his breathing loud. When he reached out his hand, searching contact, it shook. Kurt took it between both of his hands, kissing Blaine’s knuckles softly.

  “Wh – what happened?” Blaine said quietly.

  “We got into an accident.” Kurt said. “We got totaled because I was an idiot and drove against a red light.”

  He could hear Blaine’s smile in his voice. “Told you you weren’t going to make it.” he said, voice so weak but still there. 

  Kurt laughed, closing his eyes and nodding. “I know. I should have listened.”

  “You never do.” Blaine said, squeezing his hand as hard as he could.

  “I never do.” Kurt agreed. ”But this time… Oh God, Blaine, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” Blaine lied. His face was covered with cuts and bruising, even worse than Kurt’s; it really showed that Blaine’d been the one on the side of impact.

  “It’s not.” Kurt said with a heavy shake of his head. “Of course it’s not. Blaine, your fucking neck broke. You could’ve died. You almost did. You were really close, do you know that? They almost couldn’t save you.” His breath came out of him in short puffs and he struggled to stay upright.

  “Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.” he repeated again and again. “Oh God, I was so close to losing you. I could’ve lost you, Blaine. I –”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “No, but I could have. And it was so close. Oh fuck. What would I have done if I’d lost you?”

  “Let’s not think about that, okay?” Blaine said silently, wishing that he could just turn his neck and look at him, if only just for a second.

  “But I have to.” Kurt said stubbornly. “I have to. Because it was so close and… I almost lost everything again. I can’t…

  “Blaine?” Kurt whispered. 

  Blaine hummed.

  “I love you.” Kurt said, stroking Blaine’s knuckles, staring down at the bed. “I love you so much.”

  “I –” Blaine said weakly. “That’s – that’s good to know.”

  Kurt nodded. “I know.” he said, pushing himself forward a little and resting his head on the side of Blaine’s bed.

  “Oh, and Kurt?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you a lot, too.”

  “I know,” Kurt whispered, feeling the blanket under his face getting wet from his tears.