Chapter 4

"Please hold the line. Please hold the line. Please hold the line."

Blaine clutched the receiver tighter; trying to swallow his annoyance at having been kept on the phone for the last nine minutes with only the tinny voice and a disgustingly poor rendition of Chopin for company. He'd been cheerfully informed by the hospital receptionist when he'd called, he looked at his watch again - eleven minutes ago - that he was being put through to the ICU department and they would be able to answer all his questions, but no one appeared to be that keen to pick up.

"Please hold the line."

He'd thought this through carefully. Kurt was clearly not in a coma anymore but obviously needed medical assistance still. He'd arrived out of nowhere, seemed disoriented and while Blaine had to admit, physically he was looking impressive for a car accident survivor, he was definitely not fully recovered. He needed to be back in hospital or at least somewhere with his family.

Blaine had little to go on. A few random names; a father. A brother called Finn. Rachel? But little else. what he did know was that getting information out of hospitals was nigh on impossible if you were a total stranger.

"Please hold the..., Good evening, you're through to Intensive care, this is Jane speaking, how can I help you?"

An unreasonably cheerful voice, laced with the weariness of, Blaine suspected, a twelve hour shift, broke off the internal monologue he had been constructing and he stumbled slightly over his well rehearsed lines.

"Um..h, hi. My names Finn Hummel; I'm Kurt Hummel's brother; I was just wondering how he's doing?" he trailed off, knowing the lies sounded flimsy in his own ears but hoping Jane's tiredness would help him crack the desks confidentiality regulations. He knew they'd never have told him anything about Kurt without him being related but he wished he had a bit more to go on than simply a name of a brother.

"Mr. Hudson?"

 Blaine mentally kicked himself for slipping up so early on with a surname gaff but Jane didn't seem to notice or care as she clicked her tongue,

 "I'm sorry sir but weren't you only here a few hours ago?"

 Blaine cleared his throat, "um, ..well yes..but, well I thought there might have been an improvement.." he mumbled.

"I'm sorry Mr. Hudson but coma victims don't really make much improvements in a couple of hours." her voice sounded bored, cold and he could hear her tapping away at some invisible keyboard; for some reason the sound irritated Blaine. What was wrong with the staff over there; she seemed to have no idea about the changes in Kurt and his whereabouts.

Clenching his fists slightly, Blaine cleared his throat again, prepared to tell the woman exactly what changes had occurred in Kurt over the last few hours but she continued, her next words silencing Blaine mid comeback,

 "There's been no change I'm afraid sir. I checked in on him 15 minutes ago and all his vitals are the same. He's unchanged Mr. Hudson. As we told you, Kurt's condition is critical. While he's not able to breathe on his own without the machine, there will be little change. I'm sorry sir"

Blaine heard the receiver clatter to the hardwood floorboards before he'd even registered he'd let it slip. He clutched the wall beside him and sagged against it, the cool plaster offering him some sense of gravity which his own legs, currently buckled beneath him, seemed unable to afford. He could hear Jane's voice on the other end calling "Mr Hudson? Mr Hudson?" but he was struggling to breath, ignoring the voices that were surging through his clouded brain. "Unchanged." "Unable to breath on his own." "Checked 15 minutes ago"

Blaine wasn't entirely sure he could trust the healthcare system in this country but she'd sounded pretty clear on that last fact and although Blaine had plenty of concrete evidence lying in his bed to refute her claim, he had heard the certainty in her voice.

Without really consciously deciding anything, Blaine felt his fingers press down on the receiver, cutting Jane off mid question. Rising unsteadily to his feet again, Blaine moved much like he'd done earlier when he'd heard the ethereal voice emanate from his bathroom, drawn unnaturally towards the bedroom door.

He stood against the frame, clutching the smooth wood beneath his fingers and stared open mouthed at the form that lay peacefully in his bed. The blanket moved rhythmically with the deep breaths of Kurt's sleep, very much highlighting the living, corporal body that was cocooned there. His brain struggled to make sense of things.

What had happened in the last hour? What strange hoax had Blaine stumbled in to? What was Kurt?