Chapter 12:

 The sun had dipped to cast an orange hue across the wood flooring when Blaine awoke, alone, on the sofa. He was hot, warm air gusting over his naked limbs as he stirred and stretched his still sticky body. He could hear the shower going and glanced over to the open doorway, seeing steam drifting under the gap and distinguishing the soft notes of Kurt's occasional singing.

 Blaine smiled at the sound, marvelling again at how ridiculously familiar everything felt when Kurt was around and then reminding himself that he had only known the man - he glanced at the clock still propped against the mantle - just over twenty-four hours. He knew it wasn't long enough; knew that he had now allowed an almost stranger complete access to his body, to his past, to his life; but he couldn't stop his mind wondering to what ifs and maybes.

 Kurt had literally dropped into his very small, very narrow world and blown all the carefully constructed walls Blaine had spent years building, to the sky.

 He had to fix Kurt. He simply had no other choice.

 ____________________________________________________________________

 "Kurt, I think we need to go back to the hospital." Blaine ventured tentatively. Both men were now sat at the kitchen counter, coffee in hand and lost in their own thoughts. Whilst Blaine could think of worse ways to spend time when approaching possible death, he had to admit that the past twenty five hours had not been particularly fruitful in providing answers or getting the man opposite him anywhere nearer recovery.

 Kurt was eyeing him thoughtfully over the top of his coffee cup, not panicked like he'd been the previous evening when Blaine had suggested the same thing, but not quite sure of the proposal still. He hummed gently against the lip of the mug, breathing out over the surface and watching the liquid ripple.

 "What do you think it will achieve?" he asked eventually, voice calm but questioning.

 Blaine put down his own cup and reached for Kurt's hand. "Well...I don't know for sure...but, I guess I was thinking that your body might have some answers. If we study your medical record, or even just catalogue the injuries, maybe you might feel something....maybe you might start to work out what might get you back inside yourself."

 He knew it didn't make much sense, especially hearing it spoken aloud, but Blaine needed to do something and they weren't finding any solutions stuck in this apartment and falling in to each other's arms every time conversation got a bit rough. Not that it didn't have its healing properties; Blaine allowed himself a slight smile before checking himself and pulling back to Kurt's slightly quizzical eyes.

 "O.K."

 The response was so assured and simple that Blaine fumbled slightly when he went to pick up his cup again. Liquid slopped onto the table-top and he watched it pool beside his hand. Neither man moved to get a towel.

 "O.K...Right...that's good." He offered a smile towards Kurt who returned one, that Blaine noticed didn't quite reach his eyes. He watched as the other man moved to get up, glancing out of the window before sighing and turning back to Blaine.

 "Shall we go then?" He said without emotion.

 ___________________________________________________________________

The late hour of the previous evening's visit had meant Blaine had gone relatively unnoticed by the skeleton staff that had been noticeably absent in the corridors. But now, as he pushed through the double glass doors again, Kurt unobserved beside him, he felt more exposed. Orderlies and patients and nursing staff were bustling in and out of the waiting area, a blur of white coats and metal gurneys and there was noise and movement at every step.

 Taking a deep breath and attempting to look assertive, Blaine marched towards the lift, hitting the third floor button and watching Kurt slink in beside him before the doors closed around them. The air in the enclosed space was heavy and thick with unspoken thoughts between them and both men felt very far removed from each other despite their shoulders brushing with each jolt and lurch of the elevator.

 Blaine had almost expected to see Burt at Kurt's beside when they reached the ICU but the corridor was empty, the chaos of downstairs having not reached the almost frightening stillness of this wing of the building. It only served to increase his anxiety, the sombre calm seeming to highlight the inertia of the people caged within it and made Blaine's stomach twist uncomfortably.

 Apparently the same reaction was washing over Kurt as his skin paled further and he reached for Blaine's hand for the first time since leaving the apartment. Blaine squeezed back, grateful for the contact and strength derived from it; grateful for the tangibility it afforded Kurt again.

 A different young woman sat at the small reception desk that evening, dark hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and skin scrubbed and fresh. Not wanting to sneak around this time and hoping that perhaps she could shed more light on Kurt's situation, Blaine smiled warmly at her, disarming her in an instant with his easy charm, Kurt noticed with slight irritation.

 "Hi" Blaine said, his voice soft and friendly. "I'm Blaine. I'm here to see Kurt Hummel. I'm not sure if Mr Hummel mentioned me, but...well...I'm a friend of Kurt's and I only just found out about the accident and, well, I just really wanted to see him."

 He allowed his voice to falter slightly at the end, a subtle hitch that registered immediately with the young woman, eyes sparkling with sympathy for the poor, admittedly quite beautiful man in front of her. She wondered briefly if he was gay, musing at the shame of it if he was, before checking herself and smiling back at him, a little flustered by her inappropriate thoughts. 

 "Blaine?" She rolled her eyes up slightly as if trying to place the name before meeting his gaze again, a light registering behind them. "You were here last night weren't you?"

 Blaine looked in mock guilt at the counter between them, not meeting her gaze. "Um yes...yes I was." He stammered in a good display of bashfulness, ignoring Kurt's snort of derision beside him. He soldiered on.

 "I just wanted to see him. I'm sorry, I know I wasn't supposed to be here but he's my friend and..well..." He paused to look at her name badge before raising his eyes to her face once again. "I don't want you to get into any trouble Lucy" he watched her smile as her name rolled off his tongue, "but I just wanted to know how he's doing?"

 Clearing her throat slightly and shuffling some papers on the desk, Lucy turned towards her computer monitor and scanned the screen, clicking her finger on the mouse a few times, before bringing Kurt's details up.

 "It's alright Sir." She said, eyes exploring the information before her. "Mr Hummel actually said you were to be allowed admittance when he visited this afternoon. He said you were a good friend of Kurt's" her eyebrow raised in a slight question at the term ‘good friend' which he carefully ignored; let her think whatever she wanted he thought to himself; if it meant they could get information to maybe help Kurt then he could play along for as long as necessary.

 "His condition is much the same." Lucy continued. "His heart is still pumping blood around his body but his lungs are unable to function on their own. I don't know if anyone told you this but his heart actually stopped at the scene of the accident and the paramedics had to restart it. He was technically dead for several minutes and, well.. when they revived him, he wasn't able to breathe without intubation."

 Kurt had gone rigid beside Blaine and the other man was desperate to touch him, to sooth the horror that was lining his face, blanched with pain. Instead he simply nodded at the woman in front of him.

 "But he's going to get better right?" His voice sounded desperate even in his own ears and he registered that they'd moved beyond acting now; Blaine needed to know the medical prognosis.

 The smile dropped from Lucy's face and her eyes clouded with sympathy. "When you die... even if it's only for a short time....when you die, you lose the blood supply to your brain momentarily. It's like everything short circuits and resets. Well depending on how long you're gone, there's damage that occurs. In the brain"

 She stopped, touching her fingers to his hand that rested on the counter; his hand that was clutching the counter harder with each stabbing word of explanation.

 "Kurt was gone for a pretty long time Blaine"

 "Are you saying he's brain damaged?" he whispered, his voice not quite sounding like his own. His eyes flitted for the briefest moment on Kurt who was standing motionless, gaze unflinching at Lucy's next words.

 "At first we did register brain activity." She continued hesitantly. "But a few days ago he stopped responding to our tests. There's no brain function anymore sir. I'm so very sorry Blaine."

 He wanted to run away. To clutch at the body of Kurt in the neighbouring room and shake him until he was forced to work, to breathe and think and just live, but he remained frozen, needing more. He wouldn't recognise those words as final.

 "Why would his brain stop functioning if it was fine immediately after the crash? Why would he stop breathing? Why would he stop thinking? Why?"

 She shuffled again in her chair and her voice became even quieter.

 "We're not sure Sir...bodies can fight for a while and then sometimes they just decide to give up....to shut down. Maybe Kurt didn't think it was worth the fight anymore."

 Her eyes were filled with tears now and Blaine suddenly felt sorry for her; this woman who has to deal with this, with people like him and death and pain day after day and yet was still able to feel something. He squeezed her hand in thanks, unable to form actual words in his constricted throat.

 Turning away, he moonwalked into the room that Kurt's body was imprisoned in, not even registering whether the other man was actually with him or not. He slumped down in the chair beside the bed and let his eyes wonder over the figure shrouded in white hospital bed linen. He was vaguely aware of Kurt standing in the corner, watching but silent.

 He traced a line along the body's forearm, mimicking the movements Kurt had danced on his own skin not three hours previously and watched as the skin puckered into goose bumps under his feathery touch.

 Clutching the wall as if trying to shrink inside the magnolia paint, Kurt's eyes fluttered closed. He sucked in a slow, painful drag of air and held it inside.

 "You have to wake up" Blaine breathed out into the air and neither man knew which body he was directing it to.

 The heart monitor beeped again in response to his words; the breathing apparatus hissed out another lie.