It’s not just the physical part either. The cast on his arm has been freshly removed, stitches finally gone and to the rest of the world Kurt is healed. No one could tell, meeting him on the street, what has happened to him, how broken his life really is. What he’s going through every single day. Blaine’s been making improvements, but not how Kurt imagined. Except for when his mom had been sick and his dad had been in the hospital, he’s never really been exposed to this. To injuries and healing and recovery. He hadn’t known what to expect, and the effort and energy he’s put into helping Blaine, and worrying about Blaine, and everything Blaine has been wearing him down.

And sometimes he wonders. He feels immediately guilty, quickly pushing the thoughts from his mind, sick to his stomach. But they linger anyways. He wonders how long he can keep doing this. If there will be a point where it’s just too much. How long can he take care of Blaine? What if he’s like this forever? If he never improves, stuck in this half-state, only able to communicate with the furrow of his eyebrows and the lift of a finger.

Kurt loves Blaine. He loves Blaine, but a niggling part of him wonders if he can do this. It’s so much responsibility. Blaine, who can’t do anything for himself, relying on him. Kurt’s afraid. He’s afraid of himself. Of what he’ll do. He’s never been one to handle stress well, he’s known to lash out, to put up his defenses, to push away those close to him. And forever is such a long time. It scares him.

And yet, he can’t imagine life without Blaine. Blaine’s father had approached him before they began their house hunt, armed with pamphlets and numbers and doctor recommendations, suggesting they put Blaine away. Send him to some home with others like him. He could visit whenever he wants and Blaine would receive top quality care twenty-four/seven. It had been almost appealing; it would just be so easy and Kurt would never have to worry. But one look at Blaine’s face the next day, so full of trust and love and hurt, and Kurt knew he couldn’t. The guilt at even thinking it made him nauseous.

There’s a click as he turns the handle and opens the door.

“Hey Blaine,” Kurt says as he does every day, silence his only response. Like every day, Kurt approaches the bed and takes Blaine’s hand in his, sitting in the chair that never moves from his bedside. Blaine’s head shifts towards him, his fingers twitching and Kurt smiles, pushing aside his mess of emotions for now.

“Did you have a good day?” Blaine lifts a finger in affirmative.

“It’s cause the cute physical therapist was here, isn’t it?” Kurt teases, and the corner of Blaine’s lip pulls up slightly.

“I don’t know what you see in him, whoever takes that much time trying to make their hair look like they didn’t style it can’t be trusted,” Kurt says with an exaggerated shake of his head and a smile. Blaine’s eyes stay rested on Kurt’s face and Kurt would give anything to know what he’s thinking. What he’s feeling.

“Rachel wants to come visit again,” Kurt says after a moment. These one-sided conversations still throw him off sometimes and he misses Blaine’s voice. It’s only been six weeks and already the memories of Blaine’s soft, comforting, always earnest voice are slipping away and Kurt wants to grab them, hold them close, and never let them go. “She thinks she can heal you through song or something ridiculous. I wasn’t sure what to tell her. She always gets her way anyways, so I suppose there’s no point denying her.”

Kurt swallows and sits back, never letting go of Blaine’s hand.

“Work has been busy. Sarah did a valiant job while I was gone but there’s still so much to get done. And Ted, god. I think his fashion-sense regressed without me there to judge him every day. He wore tweed today. I don’t care if his only job is to make coffee and straighten desks, I won’t have inferior fabrics walking around and interfering with my ability to think clearly.”

Kurt knows he’s rambling. He does this every day, talking about nothing, filling Blaine in on work drama, current events, what trouble trashy celebrities are getting themselves into. He thinks Blaine likes it. It seems like he does. His eyes stay on Kurt’s face as he talks, fingers moving occasionally, shoulders relaxing.

After awhile Kurt runs out of things to talk about and they sit in silence. Kurt strokes the back of Blaine’s hand softly and Blaine sighs, his eyes drifting shut. Blaine looks peaceful when he sleeps, only the angry scars on the side of his head giving any indication of what happened. Kurt watches the uneven rise and fall of Blaine’s chest and feels something stir inside him. He can do this, for Blaine. For himself. It’s scary, it scares him so much he can barely sleep most nights, but he can’t abandon Blaine. He knows without a doubt that if there situations were reversed, if the rusty pipe had met Kurt’s head and not Blaine’s, that Blaine would never give up on him. He would stay at Kurt’s side every step of the way, for the rest of his life, and Kurt knows he will do the same. He’s scared of screwing up, of being overwhelmed, of failing but he will face it all because Blaine needs him. And he needs Blaine, just as much.

Kurt leans forward and kisses Blaine’s cheek, gently. Blaine’s eyes flutter open, searching out Kurt’s, clouded with slight confusion as if to say what was that for? Kurt just smiles and rubs the back of his hand.

“You’re stuck with me, you know that, right?” Kurt says softly, eyes holding Blaine’s gaze and the words feel so right. “I’m not going anywhere and I’m not letting them take you anywhere so you might as well squash any thoughts you’re having about the physical therapist. You’re stuck with me for good.”

The way Blaine relaxes at the words, his eyes so full of emotion, reminding Kurt this is still Blaine, makes Kurt’s chest feel tight and he squeezes Blaine’s hand. It never was a choice. Not really. It would always end up this way, Kurt knows. Blaine has always been and will always be the only thing that ever really makes sense in his life. The only thing really holding Kurt together. Even like this.

Dana, one of the nurses Kurt has become familiar with over the last six weeks, interrupts the moment, bustling into the room with energy, giving Kurt a happy smile.

“Hey Kurt, how’s your day?” she asks brightly as she looks over Blaine’s chart.

“Oh you know, I work with imbeciles but that’s nothing new,” Kurt says, looking to Blaine with a wink. Dana chuckles.

“Don’t we all?” she says as she taps something into the computer and then turns to Blaine.

“Hi Blaine, how you feeling today?” Dana approaches the bed, resting her hands on the railing. Blaine raises his finger.

“Good,” Dana says smiling. “I’m just going to reposition you and then we can get started on dinner, sound good?”

Blaine lifts a finger again and Kurt releases his hand, scooting back slightly to let Dana work. He watches intently as Dana moves the pillows propping Blaine slightly to one side, carefully checking him over. Kurt knows she’s looking for bedsores.

“Can I help?” Kurt asks suddenly, surprising even himself. The words come out of their own accord, but Kurt knows why. Soon it’s going to be up to Kurt to take care of Blaine, and while he’s watched enough times to know the basics, he knows he’ll have to learn everything. The nurse pauses for a moment and looks to Kurt like she’s considering her options.

“Sure,” she says with a shrug. “You’ll be doing this soon anyways.”

Dana motions for Kurt to step beside her, explaining what she’s looking for as she checks Blaine over and Kurt listens intently, helping to prop Blaine up as she moves pillows to his other side.

“Do you want to set up his feeding tube?” Dana asks, her voice kind and not pressuring. Kurt looks at Blaine and swallows, suddenly feeling nervous. He’s actually doing it, he’s taking care of Blaine. He flexes his hands and nods.

“Alright,” Dana says, leading Kurt to the other side of the room, explaining what temperature the meal replacer should be, showing him how to prime the tube, how to set everything up on the IV stand, before wheeling it back to Blaine’s side.

Kurt listens as Dana tells him what to do, lifts up Blaine’s old Dalton tee (Kurt insisted on bringing Blaine some of his own clothes to wear, unable to bear the sight of him in the ugly hospital gown anymore) and pauses. His fingers hover over the little plastic button just below Blaine’s ribs and he feels an unexpected wave of emotions come over him. This is real. This is Blaine. Blaine who can’t even eat anymore, Blaine who’s life will soon completely depend on Kurt, Blaine who’s been damaged beyond repair.

Kurt’s eyes flicker up to Blaine’s face, stopping, trapped by Blaine’s gaze. Warm hazel eyes look back at him and Kurt can feel the trust coming from them. Blaine’s face is relaxed, his lips parted and unstrained, no crease of worry or frustration between his eyebrows. Blaine completely trusts Kurt, trusts him with his life. Blaine’s hand slides over the sheets until it reaches where Kurt is leaning against the bed and presses against him, his movements jerky and uneven, but Kurt knows he’s trying to offer encouragement. To tell Kurt it’s alright, I trust you.

I trust you.

Kurt swallows down the tears that threaten to betray him and breaks eye contact with Blaine, looking back to his exposed stomach. His fingers nimbly pull open the top of Blaine’s feeding tube and he attaches the tubes with a click, turning it to the locked position. He takes care to arrange the tubing so it snakes under Blaine’s arm, the pads of his fingers running along the smooth plastic, wanting to make sure everything is perfect.

“Very good,” Dana says, and Kurt can see that tears that have misted in her eyes and for a moment he feels embarrassed that someone else was witness to such an intimate moment. Instead, Kurt just turns away, lifting his hand to adjust the drip to a level that won’t cramp Blaine’s stomach, just as she had explained.

“You would make a good nurse, if you ever considered a career change,” Dana says and Kurt blushes.

“Thanks, but I think I’ve filled my hospital quota for my lifetime,” Kurt responds, but smiles at her. Dana nods, understanding.

“I can start teaching you, if you’d like,” Dana says as she gathers up the supplies she came in with. “About his cares. Everything you’ll need to know for when he’s discharged.”

Kurt nods and he knows it’s right. “I’d like that.”

“Alright,” she says warmly and gives Kurt and encouraging pat on the shoulder. “You’ll be great. Don’t worry.”

Kurt just looks down, throat suddenly feeling tight.

“You know the drill, I’ll be back in half an hour to check in,” Dana relieves Kurt of answering and leaving the room with a smile.

Silence fills the room and Kurt stands still for a moment before sinking into the chair. Blaine’s looking at him again, hand drifting towards him and Kurt grabs it, needy.

“I can do this,” Kurt’s words are strong and he’s not sure if they’re for Blaine or for himself. “I can do this.”

He presses his cheek to Blaine’s hand, ignoring the stiffness, so different from the strong, sure hands of Blaine before, and focusing only on the warmth. The connection. The way Blaine’s hand still fits so perfectly in his own, as though they are never meant to part.

“We’ll be ok.” Kurt says into Blaine’s palm and he feels Blaine’s finger twitch, lifting in agreement. Kurt gives a relieved laugh and he feels lighter because he knows.

“We’ll be ok,” Kurt whispers again. And he repeats it all night long.