Holy. Fuck.

Kurt startled awake. It was pitch dark in the living room. He tugged on his hair and groaned in frustration. Great, just fucking great. Now he was having sex dreams about Blaine Anderson.

And he had come in his pants. Like a horny teenager.

He turned his head and peeked at the digital clock on his DVD-player.

5:45 AM.

Kurt decided to hit the shower. It was almost time to get up anyway. And those sticky pants weren't exactly comfortable.

Five minutes later, he'd washed away all residues from his embarrassing dream. Honestly, what was that even about? Was his subconscious trying to point out something to him, or what? Was it his fear of replacing Sam with another man? Blaine making him forget about Sam? Did he want to have sex with Blaine? Oh no no, he wasn't there yet. Not by a long shot.

Kurt realized he was overanalyzing his dream. It was probably just about him being horny as hell and Blaine just happened to be the man that had been most on his mind. Dreams just make one big mash up of everything that's going on in your head; and then paint absurd pictures with it.

Really Kurt? Was it that absurd? Okay, just keep on telling yourself that.

"Oh for the love of God, shut up!" he shouted to his inner voice.

Two hours later, Kurt was sitting in the staff room while Rose was giving her morning briefing. The doctors weren't there. They couldn't always make it, yet they tried to attend at least three or four times a week. But not today.

Kurt was a bit relieved, to be honest. After that steamy dream, he really wasn't looking forward to seeing Blaine. The last time he had looked him in the eyes, he'd just had an orgasm. Dream or not, it felt awkward as hell.

The meeting was suddenly disturbed by a loud buzz. They saw a red light flickering on the control panel. An emergency in room 406. Kurt jumped out of his chair and bolted out of the staff room, Emily and Rose on his trail. It was Chloe Turner.

After almost two years at the hospital, Kurt was used to seeing a lot of ugly and shocking stuff. But the sight that met him as he barged into Chloe's room sickened him. Blood was everywhere.

He saw Blaine, clutching the 3-year-old Chloe in his arms. The little girl was sitting up, vomiting blood, gulp after gulp.

"She has a stomach bleed," Blaine said, and he didn't waste any time as he started to give orders to the rest of the staff. The team worked seamlessly together to get the child stable. They tore open wrappings, gave injections, measured the blood pressure, each of them a perfectly trained dancer in a very bizarre choreography.

Twenty minutes later, Chloe was stable and sedated. She was no longer vomiting, and was on her way to the intensive care unit, accompanied by Rose and Emily. She would be needing a major blood transfusion, judging on the amount of blood that had been spilled on the floor... and onto their clothes. There were red splatters all over his uniform, and over his bare arms.

Blaine had it worse though. His white doctor's coat and his shirt were soaked in blood. He had dried blood on his hands and even a smudge on his face.

They were still in Chloe's room. Kurt was sitting on the edge of a table, catching his breath after those stressful moments. Blaine stood slumped with his back against the wall, looking at the floor. He looked defeated.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked.

Blaine just kept on staring down. He sighed, "She's not going to make it."

Kurt nodded, but kept quiet.

"The cancer has spread to her brain and lungs. I talked to Jonathan last night. He's going to ask the parents for permission to stop all treatment. It's pointless."

"How long?"

Blaine shrugged, "Only a matter of weeks."

Kurt let out a long sigh, "Damn..."

"Yeah..."

Kurt could tell Blaine was really upset, which was pretty normal. Losing a patient was never easy, but seeing a child die was extra hard. Working with young patients was a coin with two sides. It was a lot more rewarding, but it was a lot harder too when things turned ugly. The odd thing was, Blaine usually hid his emotions better than he was doing right now. Kurt suspected there was something more to it.

Blaine was still not looking up.

"Blaine, are you all right?"

"Yeah, yeah... it just hit home, you know. That little girl reminds me so much of Lily, it's really scary, and I can't imagine -"

"Who's Lily?" Kurt frowned.

Blaine snapped his head up and threw Kurt a deer-in-the-headlights look.

"She... she's a little girl... it's a long story... I'll tell you about her later... Kurt, I think we should go shower and change clothes. We're both pretty messed up here." He stalked out of the room before Kurt could react.

Kurt hopped off the table and headed towards the locker room. He couldn't shake the feeling that the two of them were pretty messed up indeed, in more ways than one.

Kurt had already changed into a fresh, crisp uniform, and was toweling his wet hair, when Blaine exited one of the shower stalls, clad in a towel, loosely wrapped around his hips. Kurt did a double take, then quickly averted his eyes. It wouldn't be appropriate to be caught ogling Dr. Anderson and his amazing, hot body...

Blaine stood in front of his locker, getting dressed quickly.

"So, is it okay if I pick you up at your place tomorrow night?" He asked.

Kurt turned his head to look at the doctor, and his eyes fell on a small tattoo on Blaine's upper arm. It looked like two flowers, intertwined, and one of them was a daisy. The tattoo was covered by a white shirt sleeve, before Kurt could make out what the other flower was.

Kurt snapped out of it, "Oh, I'm sorry! Tomorrow?"

"Yes. Our date?" Blaine raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, yes, yes, sure! I'll text you my address tonight."

"Great!" Blaine slammed his locker door shut and buttoned up his doctor's coat, "Well then, I should get going, I need to finish my round and my consultations start in... half an hour," he said, checking his watch. He smiled and winked at Kurt, and hurried out of the locker room.

Kurt put his hands on his hips and watched Blaine leaving. He was really getting intrigued by this man. Tomorrow night would be... interesting.

Kurt was pacing around the apartment. Blaine would be picking him up in less than an hour.

He was feeling apprehensive and excited at the same time. He'd never done this 'first date' thing before. Sam had just swept him away in that hospital room when he was sixteen and that was it.

And after Sam... well; let's just say he made one stupid, drunken mistake with a guy he'd met a bar one night, about a year after Sam had gone. He had been feeling lonely and horny. He ended up making out with a tall blonde, lean guy, and had gone home with him. It had been a night of desperate, rough, dirty sex, and Kurt had felt like a cheap whore the morning after. It wasn't an experience he ever wanted to repeat again.

The doorbell rang.

Kurt sped towards the door and threw it open, "Finally, you're here!"

A very disgruntled looking Mercedes stood in the door opening, gulping for air, "Hell...to the no... Kurt Hummel! I... came as soon... as I got your text!" she grumbled between gasps. She swallowed and caught her breath. "Did you know both elevators are broken in this stupid building? Why the crap do you have to live on the fifth floor anyway?"

"Hello, Mercedes..." Kurt smiled, holding out his arms. Mercedes relaxed and fell into the hug.

"It's so good to see you again, boo. I love you so much."

"I love you too, babe. Let's go into the living room."

Mercedes pulled back from the hug and followed Kurt into the cozy but messy room. She plopped down on the couch, whacking at a pillow that was in her way.

"I can't stay for too long, the guys are coming over at 7 PM, remember? So, tell me what's your big emergency now?"

Kurt stood in front of her, fidgeting, "I... kinda need your help... I don't know what I should wear tonight."

Mercedes smiled cheekily, "Wait a minute? Kurt Hummel, YOU want fashion advice from ME? The Technicolor zebra?" She giggled like a madwoman.

Rolling his eyes, Kurt plopped down next to her and let his head fall against Mercedes shoulder. That felt nice. "I really have no clue. I'm not that old fashion crazed Kurt anymore... and I've never done this date thing before. I'm nervous."

Mercedes stopped laughing, and pulled him into a sideways cuddle. She understood this ran deeper than just a fashion crisis.

"Just be yourself! He obviously likes you, and he sees you in a pink suit everyday, so it can't get much worse, huh?"

Kurt snorted. Mercedes pressed a kiss into his hair and petted his back. "Soooo... do you like him?" She asked.

"Hmmm... I think so... he's cute, he's nice, he's hot... and he's obviously smitten with me. I mean; he's being chasing me for months now. And there's something about him that fascinates me to no end."

Mercedes sat up and looked Kurt in the eyes, "I'm glad you're doing this, boo. You'll see how it goes, okay, but I'm at least happy you're giving it a shot."

"Yeah... I thought about it...and I just can't go on like this anymore. I'm so lonely. I hate living without Sam. I know I can't get him back, but that doesn't stop me from wanting it. This is going to sound absolutely ridiculous; but I need to love somebody who isn't dead. And I need someone to love me the way Sam did."

Mercedes smiled, "Well then, we're just going to have to make this work then, huh? Come on; let's go check out your wardrobe!"

After a lot of consideration, Mercedes and Kurt agreed on a pair of black skinny jeans, a cream colored long-sleeved T-shirt with a boat neck, and a black cardigan. Kurt ruffled his hair with some gel, trying to get it a bit spiky without looking like he just rolled out of bed. They both decided that using eyeliner would be too much.

"Well, you look great, sweetie." Mercedes said, "I've gotta go now, the gang will be at my door in fifteen minutes."

Kurt smiled at his friend and hugged her, "Thanks, Mercedes. For everything."

"Yeah no problem. You know what? Just have fun tonight. No matter how it all turns out, I just want you to have fun and laugh tonight. You need that."

Kurt tightened the hug and gave her a peck on the cheek, "I will."

The doorbell rang.

Kurt opened the door.

Blaine stood there, grinning and panting a bit, "Hi Kurt, did you know both your elevators are broken?"

Kurt couldn't help laughing, "Yeah, actually I do know. Please come in. I'm sorry about the mess."

Blaine smiled and entered the hallway. He looked... well... really hot. He wore a black pair of dress pants, a simple white shirt, top buttons undone, and a black blazer. His hair wasn't gelled down, which was a nice change.

Kurt smiled shyly, "You want to come into the living room?" he gestured.

Blaine looked at his watch, "Actually, if you don't mind, we probably should get going. It might be hard to find a parking spot if we wait any longer."

Kurt nodded, "Okay, let me get my jacket and we're off." He turned to go fetch it.

"Hey Kurt..." Blaine called after him.

"Yes?" Kurt answered.

"I know we're not married yet, but you'll call me Blaine tonight, right?"

Kurt burst out in laughter.

"This is really a nice place," Kurt said, looking around. They had been seated at a booth in the corner of the place. It wasn't really a restaurant, more of lounge bar really. People were either sitting at the bar, in white leather couches, or in booths. The prominent color schemes were white, black and purple.

"Isn't it? I love it here." said Blaine, following Kurt's gaze, "It's not really a restaurant, not really a club, and not a bar either; it's a bit of everything really. And they serve great food. I wanted something not too formal for our date. I hate those stuffy, chique restaurants anyway."

"It's great," nodded Kurt, "Is that a stage?" he asked, pointing at the corner.

"Yes it is, they have several regular singers, and on Friday they have an open mic night. I've always wanted to sing here, but I haven't gotten around to actually doing it," Blaine answered, as a waitress approached their table, "So, you want a drink while we look into the menu? They have great cocktails here."

Kurt hesitated. Might be best not to get too much alcohol in his system right from the start. "I'll just have a glass of white wine, please."

"Make that two," Blaine nodded to the waitress, "What were we talking about just now?"

"You sing?" Kurt asked.

"Oh yes! I love to sing, and I play some instruments too, but I haven't gotten the time to practice it much lately. I sang in high school though. Ever heard of The Warblers?"

"Ha! Have I heard of the Warblers? They beat us in Regionals! It was their fault we didn't make it to New York for Nationals!" Kurt shot back. "I was in glee club at McKinley High, we were called the New Directions," he explained further.

"The New Directions? I've heard about them. I'd just graduated from Dalton Academy when the New Directions were founded, if I remember correctly. Well, go figure; we could have competed against each other if I had been a few years younger."

"Yeah, I would have totally kicked your ass", Kurt quipped.

"Really now..." Blaine raised one eyebrow suggestively.

Kurt threw him a mock glare, but grinned as Blaine gave him a wide smile and winked.

They took some time perusing the menu.

Looking at all the tasty suggestions, Kurt suddenly felt very hungry. He hadn't had a decent meal for days, and his stomach growled. He decided on a steak with vegetables on the side. Blaine ordered a pasta dish.

"Do you still sing, Kurt?" he asked, after the waitress had left.

Kurt's dropped his gaze, "No... not really. I haven't sung in years."

"Ah...why not?" Blaine asked carefully.

Kurt shrugged, "I don't feel like singing and dancing anymore, Blaine." He looked up and found himself staring into those honey colored, concerned eyes, "I... I guess I should tell you a bit about myself, and the stuff that has happened to me-"

"Only if you want to, Kurt. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to share yet."

Kurt couldn't believe this man. So gentle, so sweet, so handsome... he almost seemed too good to be true.

"I need to tell you, Blaine. I... kinda like you... and I want to be honest with you. You deserve that, after all those months of me pushing you away..."

Kurt took a deep breath, and started telling Blaine. About Sam. All about Sam. About losing Sam. About how his life had changed so drastically. About why he was a nurse.

It felt so good, being able to talk about it. And Blaine kept listening, smiling with Kurt at the happier memories, and showing a sympathetic and sometimes pained expression, when Kurt recounted the sad, heartbreaking parts.

They had already finished their meal when Kurt ended his tale.

"Wow, Kurt," said Blaine, "I'm so sorry. I don't know what else to say, really. It must have been so hard for you."

"It still is," Kurt confessed, "even after all this time."

Blaine nodded, "Losing somebody that close to you, it cuts your soul to pieces, doesn't it?"

Kurt nodded, wondering who Blaine had lost, because the way he just said that, it seemed like he knew what he was talking about.

"Can I ask you something?" Kurt said.

"Sure..."

"Why did you leave New York and move back to Lima?"

Blaine gulped inaudibly. He seemed lost in thought for a minute, then answered, "There just wasn't anything worth staying for there anymore. So I came back."

"If there wasn't anything in New York, why did you move there in the first place? I mean, didn't you have a job there?" Kurt said.

"Yes, and that's not what I meant. I moved there for reasons of love, Kurt. Isn't that usually how it's goes?" Blaine said, with a bitter tinge to his voice.

"Ah. I'm sorry. I take it your relationship ended then... I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry, and-"

"No!" Blaine held his hand up, "Don't apologize. You told me your story; you deserve to know mine too. But... just this, Kurt... you always told me your situation was complicated, right?"

"Yes?"

"Well... mine might actually be even more complicated..." Blaine looked really nervous now.

"Please tell me, Blaine," Kurt was becoming a bit apprehensive now.

Blaine stared at Kurt for a few moments. He then took his wallet, and pulled a picture out of it. He handed it to Kurt.

It was a picture of a blonde, blue-eyed, angelic looking girl, no more than 3 years old.

"Who is that?" Kurt asked warily.

Blaine looked Kurt straight into the eyes.

"That's Lily... Lily Anderson. My daughter."

tbc