CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The Hangover

Santana reached Kurt first, putting a tentative hand on his back. Kurt flinched but didn't move away from the comfort, which she considered a win. "Well that was...heated," she said after a few moments.

Kurt let out an ungainly snort, slowly uncrossing his arms and letting them limply hang at his sides. "I don't know what that was."

"That!" Rachel piped up from below them. "Was a beautiful song choice!"

"Yeah," Kurt frowned, feeling pressure building up in his head. "You're an asshole."

She just laughed blowing him a wet kiss. "You love me."

"I hate you," he replied without bite, moving away from Santana to sit on the edge of the stage. The pressure in his head was moving to a steady pounding.

"You look like shit," Santana said sitting down next to him.

"I've been drinking."

She rolled her eyes, "It's a bit early for a hangover don't you think? Quinn!" she called to the long haired girl who was chatting with Artie about music. "Get Kurt here another drink; I think he could use it."

Quinn nodded, and went to fetch whatever she so fancied, placing a calming hand on Puck as she moved past him.

"Yes, Santana," Kurt said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Let's fix my headache with alcohol."

"Well Sebastian's the one who's causing it," Santana argued. "You need to drink until you can't remember who is."

Kurt laughed. "You give shit advice."

"You know I'm right."

Puck let out a growl and stalked up to Kurt giving the seated boy an agitated once over. "Are you okay?"

"Are you?" Kurt deflected.

Puck rolled his eyes, sitting on the other side of Kurt. "One day I'll get him."

"Remember the whole you can't go back to jail thing?" Santana asked raising her eyebrow. "Yeah, so do I."

Puck made a face but didn't reply to her, continuing his conversation with Kurt. "What was he even doing here?"

Kurt sighed, suddenly craving the drink Quinn was getting for him. "Hell if I know. He's a dick, that's it."

"Fine." Puck growled, "But if he comes near you again, tell me."

"Yes, father," Kurt said moving to stand. "Whatever you say."

Puck sighed but didn't move to follow Kurt. He looked at Santana who was watching Kurt sadly before she shook her head and stood up, holding her hand out to help Puck do the same.

"Artie!" she called throwing her arm around Puck's shoulders; standing on her tip toes to do so. "Blast some music! The party isn't over yet!"

And so it wasn't.

Kurt reached Blaine, who was standing next to Tina looking at Kurt with his eyes blown wide in shock. "I-I'd tell you to explain," Blaine said when Kurt stopped walking. "But I'm too drunk and want to actually remember in the morning."

Kurt laughed, accepting an affectionate hug from Tina as he did so. "What makes you think I'd explain?" he asked squeezing Tina tightly.

"Cuz," Blaine answered, his eyebrows drawing together in focus. "This is the second time you two have interacted and they've both ended in poo—"

Kurt raised his eyebrow—he really was sobering up, where the hell was Quinn with his drink?—"Poo?" he asked with a small smirk. "What are we five?"

Blaine shrugged. " 'pparently. But if he makes you cry again, I won't be in control of myself."

Kurt smiled, giving Blaine a small shove. The shorter boy stumbled and frowned running a hand through his hair.
"You're not in control of yourself now," Kurt laughed.

Tina looked up at Kurt from where she was latched onto his chest. "He made you cry?" she asked, a pout heavy on her lips.

Kurt patted her head resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "No Tina, he didn't make me cry."

Blaine violently shook his head, his light curls flying everywhere. "Lies!"

"Here's your drink," Quinn said appearing out of nowhere and putting a filled to the brim cup in his hand. "I got one for you too, Blaine," she said giving him a cup of his own.

Gently she pried Tina's warm arms off of Kurt, and didn't fight as the Asian girl transferred her hold onto her. "Drink it all," she said, tipping her head towards the cup. "And I promise you won't even be able to remember your own name."

"Is that supposed to be appetizing?"

"Kurt," Quinn warned taking a step into his space.

"Fine, fine," he resigned putting the cup to his lips. "I am so going to regret this."

"Why do I need one then?" Blaine piped up, watching Kurt's throat as he chugged the acrid liquid like a champ.

"Because you're his drinking buddy," Quinn replied with a shrug. "Now drink up sunshine."

So he did.

--------_O_--------

"Kurt," a voice whispered over his sleeping body. He closed his eyes harder and hoped the voice would go away.

"Kurt," it called again, poking him on his side this time. Kurt didn't flinch; if he didn't move they'd leave, that's what a lot of animals did to make predators leave them alone.

"I think he's dead," a voice said.

"What the hell did you put in that drink?"

"Why didn't you offer me one?"

"Burt's going to be so pissed."

"Oh my god, shut up!" Kurt hissed. But through his tired speech it sounded more like "O'me g'd shuddup."

"Well at least we know he's not dead," one of the voices snickered. Through Kurt's slowly dawning consciousness he vaguely managed to I.D. it as Santana.

" 'Tana go 'way, mm sleepin'"

"In the middle of a park?"

Kurt curled into a ball, willing her to leave him alone. "'M not in a park 'm at..." he trailed off, her words kicking his senses into gear. Something was tickling his skin, and if Santana was to be trusted it was grass. It tickled all the way up his sides and down his arm and holy crap he wasn't wearing a shirt! His eyes flew open and he bolted upright. His stomach churned and he barely had time to turn his head before he was vomiting on the grass beside him.

"Ew," someone commented, but it didn't stop Kurt from vomiting some more. And more. And more. When he finally stopped he groaned and crawled back into ball facing the other way.

"Okay seriously Quinn," Santana asked with a hint of accusation in her tone. "What the hell was in that drink?"

"Jesus, Kurt," a deeper voice said putting a warm hand on Kurt's bare back. "Are you okay?"

Kurt just groaned and curled deeper in on himself.

"Do you know hard it will be to get him to drink with us again?" Santana hissed.

"That's what you're worried about?" The voice touching his back asked. "Dude just puked his stomach out, he needs some nutrition or something."

"Finn," Kurt croaked. "If you try to put food anywhere near my mouth I swear to god I will puke all over you."

"He's alive!" Jeff exclaimed excitedly.

"Yell like that again and you won't be," Kurt threatened slowly uncurling himself. "My head feels like there are five midgets wrestling behind my eyeballs."

Someone...Puck, Kurt thinks laughs before saying, "I think he's still a little drunk."

"I'm not drunk," Kurt whined, sitting up with Finn's help, but refusing to open his eyes in fear of the sun. "Just severely hung over."

"You can open your eyes," Santana said from somewhere above him. "It's just before five so the sun isn't out yet."

Kurt groaned but did as she told, slowly blinking his bleary eyes into focus. He was met with five faces all wearing a different emotion and it was enough to confusion to get him puking again. When he finally stopped he wiped his mouth wearily and turned an accusatory glare (weaker than normal in his state, but still quite striking), to Quinn.

"If you make that for me ever again, I will destroy you."

She just laughed lightly, though concern was evident in her eyes. "It's not my fault, you made me make you two more."

Kurt made a face. "I did not."

"Oh my god," Puck laughed looking at everyone. "He totally doesn't remember anything!"

"Yes you did, Kurt," Quinn said gently, placing a calming hand on his knee. "And then you made me take one, me the designated sober person. And then you convinced me to make rounds for the entire house, and things get blurry after that."
Kurt groaned, putting his head in his hands. He closed his eyes before he opened them again and promptly remembered that he was shirtless in a park. "How the hell did I even get here?" he asked looking around himself, but not recognizing anything.

"We were hoping you could tell us," Finn said gently.

Kurt made to get up, but when it was obvious he wasn't going anywhere by himself, Quinn and Finn helped him to his feet.

Kurt leaned on Finn until the world stopped spinning, and he could breathe again.

"How long have I been out here for?" he asked when he could think through the pounding in his head.

Santana shrugged. "No idea man, we just realized you were gone."

"Okay," he said looking around himself again. "Where's Blaine?" He could have sworn he vaguely remembered leaving the store with the curly haired boy.

"Yeah, that's the thing," Jeff said sheepishly. "We can't find him."