Heartbeats
sorenloren
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Heartbeats: Chapter 4


M - Words: 1,583 - Last Updated: Aug 20, 2011
Story: Complete - Chapters: 16/16 - Created: Aug 05, 2011 - Updated: Aug 20, 2011
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Blaine pulled Kurt towards his chest, not seeing any way out of this horrible nightmare. He knew that it was only time. He knew that there was nothing left he could do, so he began to yell. He didn’t care if they heard him. If they came in here and shot him, Kurt was dying and it didn't matter because as long as Blaine could yell out, at least he would die here with Kurt.
He heard the footsteps coming around the door to the classroom. They were strong and sturdy and the Blaine knew, this was it. His blood felt as if it was boiling from rage. He pulled Kurt closer, trying to not pass out from the thoughts racing through his head and let out another yell, trying to remain fearless.
Blaine could see the shadow, casting it's way onto the floor of the ill-lit room, hitting the destruction the “things” had made before. His eyes traced the outline of the figure, looking for hope and strength but all he could see was Kurt's damaged body against his skin, all he could hear was Kurt’s trembling voice whispering his name, all he could taste was the bloodshed from Kurt’s lips, still lingering on his tongue, all he could feel was fear and heartache. Time moved slowly as the figure came closer. The world spun as Blaine tried to focus his eyes on the room and the darkened figure.
The shadow inched closer, as he did, Blaine saw, his eyes weren't filled with hate, instead, his face was covered in sorrow and pain. He let out relief, as Blaine realized it wasn't the monsters. The room stopped spinning as all noise drowned out. The paramedics rushed around him as they pulled Kurt from the curly haired boy’s grip and checked the motion-less-Kurt’s breathing and pulse. They moved around Blaine so fast, yet so slow. he could feel tears stream down his face as he tried to remain conscious, even though the world was slowly pulling him from his body. He could see the cops following and rushing around the room. He could see them mouthing words but he couldn't understand or hear. Blaine couldn't think, he couldn't move, he could barely breathe. He could feel the world becoming encircled in darkness and he tried hard to stay there even though every part of him fought against it. "Kurt." Blaine breathed, "Have courage Kurt." He felt the world spin as he slowly dropped into the dark hole, away from the world.
Blaine could feel straps across his body, hear voices, as he slipped in and out of himself. He couldn't stay there though. Blaine felt trapped in a tunnel, he yelled and screamed for the boy that held his heart, but no one heard and no one cared.
As he began to feel the blanket atop him and hear the beeping of his heart monitor, Blaine slowly came back into consciousness. As the room became clear, his head still remained fuzzy. He couldn't remember most of what happened or why he was in a bed. It looked dark through the sheer curtains against the window. What time was it? He gently moved his eyes across the room, looking for answers. He felt so confused and helpless and reached for a remote that sat on the nightstand. After fidgeting with it, Blaine managed to flipped a small, mounted television on, and began searching through the channels for a clue.
The boy came across a station that was airing information on a school shooting. He could feel his heart jump as his face flushed white. Everything was coming back to him as he closed my eyes and tried to focus. Kurt's name began to eat at him along with the way he had looked when Blaine last saw him. He was so limp, so... dead. He didn't look like Kurt at all. Blaine tried to think of how he could see him, how he could know either way, if Kurt was still alive or whether he had died.
Blaine slowly sat up, away from the pillow behind him. He let my head get used to the new angle. It took so long for it to settle to this new movement that it made him wonder just how long I had been out. What if Kurt had died long before, what if he would have been able to say goodbye? How could he be so selfish to allow himself to faint just because paramedics were there? He began to pull his legs over the bed. They felt numb and weak, making him sure that he had been out for a long time. His body filled with regret and anxiety. It was hard to move, to walk. His feet weren't used to the cold, hard floor of earth. He felt naked and cold, wishing he had his clothes, even if they were bloody and stained. He wished he had his shirt, even if it had been wrapped around Kurt. At least then, he could still smell his musky, sweet smell one last time. The hallway was empty and painfully quiet. Lights buzzed above him as he crept slowly down, waiting for a sign or path. Hoping that somehow he'd know and yell, or a doctor would just yell at him. Blaine was looking for any sign of life in this horribly frigid place. "Hey!" he heard behind him. It was a harsh whisper coming from a older woman. She had her hand on Blaine’s shoulder as he spun around, his bare feet making a noise on the linoleum flooring. "What do you think you're doing?" She said aggressively. Her eyebrows furrowed and her wrinkles prominent. It was obvious to Blaine that she worked there right away from her authority and attire.
"I..I..uh," He had lost his voice behind his seemingly swollen throat, "I'm looking for...for a Kurt Hummel?" His heart skipped a beat when he said Kurt’s name out loud. Suddenly the woman's face went soft and her eyes looked at him exactly the same as the paramedics had at the school. And it brought back another batch of agonizing memories. Blaine had to catch his breathe and hold on to the wall. Did this mean? Was he...dead? Blaine’s fist made a ball and his teeth bit onto his knuckle so hard it drew tiny bits of blood. He could feel tears behind his eyes as his entire body stung.
Blaine felt her hand on the small of my back as she said soothingly, "He's alive, he's still in ICU, but he is still alive. He played with her words trying to make out what they meant. When they finally made sense, Blaine began to walk again scanning for signs reading, "ICU." He could hear the woman behind me yelling after him, but her words were now only a faint mumble in Blaine’s blurry head, while the focus of Kurt remained, just as it always had. He heard running and Blaine’s arms were pulled together behind him before he could say or do anything. Security took Blaine back to his room and began asking him questions. Blaine could barely breathe. He had to see Kurt, I had to.
The doctor was in Blaine’s room early the next morning, asking him questions on how he was feeling and what he felt before he fainted. The doctor explained that Blaine had collapsed due what he believed to be an excessive panic attack and was able to be released in 24 hours as long as he stayed stable. As soon as Kurt's name was mentioned and floating through the air though, lips became closed and very little was said. Blaine was able to only pull out bits of information, Kurt had internal bleeding and Blaine wasn't a relative so there was no way he was getting into Kurt’s room yet.
The rest of the day was one big blur of questions on the shooting.
"What exactly did you see?" The officer said.
"Like I said, I didn't see the shooters faces."
"Did they speak, could you recognize a voice at all?" he asked looking at his pad and pencil. Blaine’s heart jumped when he remembered what they had yelled to them. It sat in Blaine’s head on repeat a few times before he finally managed to pull himself back to the present.
"Yes," Blaine said firmly, "They yelled... 'Where is that fucking faggot?' " His eyes traced the stitching on the blanket. he could feel anger inside him burning, "Are you going to find them?" He said, his head spinning. The man put his things back into his pocket and looked at Blaine with those eyes, the eyes that everyone had been looking at him with lately.
"The shooters killed themselves before we were able to get there. We believe that they are from a group that had planned to kill everyone inside Dalton Academy whom were recognized as a homosexual, transexual, or bisexual." Blaine’s hands clenched into hot, sweaty fists. He could hear their words, still screaming into my ears.
"Did... did they have it out for Kurt?" He asked, eyes closed with concentration.
"We found a paper on one of the shooters that contained a list of names, we suspect those were their targets, and... Kurt Hummel was on the list, yes."
His heart beat pulsed through Blaine as anger shot through his blood. What-ifs, whys, and hows danced around his head, making it hard for to breathe.
The officer promised he'd let Blaine know any new information they found before he slowly disappeared down the long hallway.

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