Chapter 16

December 8, 2012

"Is he alive?" Puck asked, being the first to come out of his stupor and running to get a closer look.

In the meantime Kurt stood there in utter shock, not able to comprehend what was in front of him. He watched his dad taking off his jacket and throwing it over Blaine's body. He heard the men talking something but his brain refused to work and all he heard was buzzing in his ears. The boy's head was spinning until a sharp pain in his cheek woke him up.

"I didn't tell you to hurt my son!" Burt yelled.

Kurt stroked his cheek and finally Puck's pale face came into view.

"You hit me!" the teenager shouted angrily.

"I barely bitch-slapped you," the other boy retorted and went back to his friend. "Now help us."

"He's alive?" Kurt asked and lit his way to the slave boy. In the phone's light his bluish body looked dead.

Burt nodded. "He is but his pulse is weak. We need to get him warm as quickly as we can. Kurt, take off your jacket and wrap it around his legs, make sure his feet are covered; he is lucky he hasn't gotten frostbite yet."

Before Burt could finish, Kurt had his jacket off and was wrapping it around Blaine's thin legs. Puck, whose leather jacket was covering the slave's middle, was squatting further from them, looking at something on the ground.

"Noah?" Burt tried to get his attention. "You know this place the best. Take the car keys and go warm up the car. Put the heater on maximum. Kurt and I will get Blaine down."

"Will do, papa Hummel," Puck said and put something in his pocket.

He took the keys that Burt had extended to him and ran out of the room, barely looking where he was setting his feet.

"What should I do?" Kurt asked as he saw his dad inspecting Blaine's head.

"You will light up the path for me," Burt said, obviously relieved by what he had seen. "He doesn't have any visible head wounds so if we are lucky, his neck should be fine as well. There is nothing to secure it with so we will just have to keep our fingers crossed."

"I think I saw blood," Kurt rushed to inform his dad just in case.

"Unfortunately it really was blood," Burt muttered angrily. "Whoever did this to him, cut around his left wrist, probably a practical joke – a matching scar for his right wrist's slave tattoo. At least it isn't deep."

Who could do this to another human being...

"Okay, I will lift him up and you light up the way," Burt said after the final check-up. "Use the flashlight; it's stronger than your phone."

Kurt grabbed his dad's flashlight from the floor and Burt lifted Blaine's small body. The slave boy made a noise of protest but it didn't look like he was back to consciousness. Kurt stood next to Burt so that they could both see where they were going. A few steps later the teenager stopped and ran back to where Blaine had been lying.

"What are you doing?" Burt asked annoyed.

"Nothing," Kurt said hastily, grabbed the teddy bear's body, and ran back to his dad. "Let's go."

Working in unison they made their way downstairs though at first it was tricky to descend the narrow staircase but after a few steps they worked out the tactics and didn't waste too much time.

As quickly as they could they got to the running car and when they were close enough, Puck hopped out of it and closed the door to keep the warmth in. He opened the back door and got inside, ready to receive Blaine's body.

"Quick, we can't let the cold in," he rushed the Hummel men.

Without a word Burt pushed the boy's body feet first into the car and Puck took them, helping the man to guide Blaine's body. The mohawked boy put Blaine's legs over his lap and Burt lowered Blaine's upper body on the seat.

"Kurt, get in the backseat, try to keep him warm," the man instructed.

Without hesitation Kurt threw the teddy bear on the front seat, lifted Blaine's head and torso and was surprised just how light he was. He slid under him and Burt slammed the door shut as soon as they were all inside. Soon they were driving away from the awful factory.

"Noah, try to warm up Blaine's hands," Burt instructed, taking a turn. "Kurt, press Blaine's head to your belly and put your left hand over his other ear and cheek. Use your right hand to google some stuff about freezing. And hypothermia, I'm sure he has it, it seems he was naked in the cold for a long time."

Puck, who was rubbing Blaine's hands, looked curiously at the man. "You know a lot about medicine, papa Hummel..."

"Just using my common sense. And putting years of watching television into practice," the man said and sped up on the empty road. "I don't remember the last time I was speeding."

"It's for the good cause," Puck approved the illegal action.

During their exchange Kurt skimmed some website on his phone. "I think you are right about hypothermia, dad. It all suits the situation and Blaine's condition."

"Look up treatment," Burt said. "We need to come up with an action plan by the time we arrive home so we can work efficiently."

"Okay," Kurt said slowly, looking for the information on his phone. "Found it.

Begin rewarming the person with extra clothing. Use warm blankets. Other helpful items for warming are: an electric blanket to the torso area and hot packs and heating pad on the torso, armpits, neck, and groin; however, these can cause burns to the skin.

If the hypothermic person is unconscious, or has no pulse or signs of breathing, call for emergency help right away. CPR (cardiopulmonary resuscitation) should be given immediately.

Blaine is unconscious, shouldn't we give him a CPR?"

"He has a pulse and he is still breathing, right?" Burt asked and Kurt affirmed his guesses after checking it quickly. "Um, keep an eye on his breathing. If there are changes I'll do the CPR."

"Okay.

Complications during recovery include pneumonia, heart arrhythmias, ventricular fibrillation (a dangerous "fluttering" rhythm of the heart), cardiac arrest (a sudden stopping of the heartbeat), and death."

"Let's worry about these later, we need to focus on rewarming him first," Burt said.

"We should put him in a hot bath," Puck suggested. "It's faster than blankets and heating pads."

"Let me check," Kurt said and typed something in his phone. "It says here not to do that.

You should not put the cold person into a hot bath to warm them up – this will cause the blood vessels in the arms and legs to dilate (open up) too quickly and cause a fall in blood pressure to the vital organs such as the brain, heart, lungs and kidneys, possibly leading to cardiac arrest and death."

"Holy shit," Puck cursed, his eyes growing big. "Thanks god for the internet; I would have killed him."

"Should we take him to a hospital?" Kurt asked. "In every website they suggest hospital for severe cases and Blaine definitely fits the description."

"We can't," Burt answered with a sigh. "We could only take him to a vet since he is a slave and vets don't work overnight. Tomorrow is Sunday so they won't be working either."

"What about Carole?" Kurt suddenly remembered the woman's profession.

"What we are doing right now is illegal and I don't know where Carole stands when it comes to slavery. She may help us but there is a possibility she would go to police. The fewer people know, the better."

Kurt still wasn't convinced but reluctantly agreed that his dad was probably right.

"So what's the plan?" Puck asked after a moment.

Burt thought for a moment. "Um, okay, when we reach–"

"Shit, Puck, stop rubbing his hands!" Kurt yelled in panic. "It says here it will make things worse!

Do not attempt to warm the arms and legs, as this will push cold blood back toward the heart, lungs and brain. Focus on the chest, neck, head, and groin."

"Fuck, I told you I would kill him," Puck panicked and instantly released Blaine's hands. "Okay, I'm not going anywhere near his groin though."

"Actually there isn't much you can do right now," Kurt said. "It says here that you shouldn't massage any part of his body."

"Well done, Kurt," Burt praised his son. "Now what we are going to do... When we arrive home, I will drive into the garage and you, Kurt, will run and unlock the door. Then you will come back and help Noah to get Blaine into the house. Meanwhile I will look for the electric blanket; it's in one of the boxes."

"Where should we put Blaine?" Kurt asked.

"Your room is the warmest so take him there," Burt said immediately. "Take off the jackets, put some warm blankets over him. Then you, Noah, will stay with him and keep an eye on him. If there are any changes, yell. You, Kurt, will go fill any bottles you can find with warm water and put them around Blaine's body. Do it a few at a time so his body starts warming up as soon as possible. When the bottles are around his body you, Noah, will have to make sure they aren't leaving burns so lift them from time to time, turn them around to make sure the side of the bottles haven't gotten cold."

"We have an electric heater somewhere," Kurt reminded his dad.

"Good thinking. I will look for it as well," Burt nodded. "We are almost there. Kurt, do you have the keys?"

"I do," Kurt said and pocketed his phone. He then remembered that it was okay to warm up the neck and put his right hand on it. "His skin is so cold."

"He'll be okay," Puck said, more to reassure himself than anyone else.

"We'll make sure he is," Burt agreed and Kurt noticed they were pulling into their street. "Almost there. Get ready, boys."

There wasn't much to do 'getting ready' but the boys nodded anyway and fell into silence, ready to act as soon as the car stopped. They arrived to the house moments later and Burt pressed the button of the automatic garage door to get it open. He drove inside and pressed the same button to close the door, shutting the view from prying eyes. The moment the car stopped, Kurt was out of it with the keys and unlocked the door to the house while Burt went straight to the boxes.

"I'll pull Blaine out of the car," Kurt told Puck once he got back, "and you can come around and help me out."

Puck lifted Blaine's legs and got out of the car in the matter of seconds. "Sorry, princess, but I'm stronger than you. I'll carry him and you show the way."

Kurt took in Puck's muscular arms hugged tightly by a t-shirt and nodded. Together they pulled Blaine out of the car and Puck lifted him bridal style.

"This way," Kurt said even though it was obvious where to go since there was only one door leading into the house.

They went straight to Kurt's room and Puck laid Blaine on the right side of the bed since it was closer to the door.

"Unwrap him from the jackets and put him under the duvet," Kurt said before her left. He made sure Puck had heard him and ran to the kitchen.

Once there the countertenor looked around for any bottles. He found two empty cola bottles in the trash bin and quickly filled them with water. He remembered reading about the things put on the hypothermic person being warm instead of hot and made sure that the water was of an acceptable temperature. Before looking for other bottles, the boy ran back to his room.

Burt was already there and he was lowering Blaine on the electric blanket when Kurt walked in. "Don't put it on a maximum, dad," he made sure to inform his dad. "Things must be warm, not hot."

"Okay," Burt didn't argue and set the medium temperature.

Kurt placed the bottles on the sides of Blaine's neck and opened something on his phone. "Look at this picture. It's called a 'hypothermia wrap'. Put the electric blanket on the duvet and then Blaine on it. When we have all bottles in place, we will wrap him like a burrito."

Both men looked at the photo and nodded. Burt was first to speak. "Noah, can you do it? I need to go bring the heater."

"Sure, papa Hummel," Puck said and Kurt ran back to the kitchen, calm knowing that the others knew what they were doing.

Since there were no more empty bottles around, the teenager raided their fridge to find two plastic bottles of milk, one of them almost empty, and a bottle of juice. According to the hypothermia wrap scheme three more bottles were enough and he made sure to empty the contents and fill the bottles with warm water as fast as he could.

When the boy finally went back to his room, the heater was blowing hot weather and Blaine was still lying on the electric blanket but this time everything was ready for the wrap.

Kurt gave one bottle for each man to place them by Blaine's armpits and kept one for himself to put it over the boy's intimate part.

"Shouldn't we take off his boxer-briefs?" Kurt asked. "They are wet and cold."

"Kurt is right," Burt frowned. "Who wants to do the honours?"

"Don't look at me," Puck shook his head. "I'm his friend but not that close."

"It doesn't feel right for me to do it either," Burt backed away. "I'm not an old pervert."

Kurt glared at them for a second. "Fine, because I'm gay I'll have to do it," he rolled his eyes. "I don't care about his body parts though, as long as we can keep him alive."

Kurt went to his drawer to find a clean pair of underwear and Puck laughed at him. "And you are curious about his cock."

The teenager grabbed a pair of loose boxers and put them on the bed, ready to take off Blaine's wet piece of clothing. "You've been getting on my nerves the whole evening and I'm this close to actually punching you, Noah, so better shut up and help me out."

Some lifting and several curse words later the curly-haired boy was changed into a dry pair of underwear. Kurt looked at the unconscious boy feeling that something was missing.

"What about his wrist wound?" Puck asked out of the blue. "Won't it get infected?"

"I totally forgot," Kurt cursed himself inwardly. "Dad, can you bring some bandages and the antiseptic spray?"

Burt nodded and Kurt took Blaine's hand into his to take a closer look. "It doesn't look bad," he concluded.

The man came back with the asked items and handed them to Kurt, who cleaned up the wound and bandaged Blaine's wrist. Soon the boy was secured in a warm burrito-like wrap.

"I guess it's all we can do right now," Burt said, the trio standing there, watching Blaine in his cocoon. "Kurt, stay with him. Noah, let's go, I will take you home."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, you don't think I'm going anywhere, right?" Puck crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not leaving Blaine alone in here."

"He won't be alone," Kurt rolled his eyes. "I'll send you a text if there is any change in his condition."

"I want to stay," Puck refused to leave.

"Noah, be reasonable," Kurt argued. "People are trying to hurt Blaine. No, they have already done that. If they come looking and find him gone, they will go looking for him. I'm sure everyone in Lima knows that you two hang out and they will come asking questions. It will look suspicious if you were not home the night Blaine went missing."

"He is right," Burt nodded. "These people are dangerous. That Rachel girl said herself that they wanted to kill Blaine and they almost succeeded."

Puck shook his dead. "It wasn't them."

Kurt frowned. "What do you mean? Who else could it be?"

The other boy put his hand in his right pocket and took something out. Kurt saw a silver locket. "I found it in the factory, a few feet away from Blaine. It belongs to Hudson. He always wears it."

"Hudson?" Burt perked up. "Carole Hudson's son maybe?"

Puck nodded and gave the locket to the man. "The very same. Nice woman, cold-hearted son."

Burt nodded to himself, inspecting the locket as if in hopes that it would tell him that it was a lie. One look at the photo inside of the man he knew many years ago and a young Carole told him that Puck was telling the truth.

"Don't do anything stupid," the man warned Puck. "I know what you are thinking but you can't go after him."

"If you think I will let him get away with it–"

"Your revenge put Blaine into this," Kurt said and gestured towards the sick boy. "You punched Finn for punching Blaine and now we are here. Revenge for revenge may have gotten Blaine killed if we had come just a little bit later."

"Nobody can know that any of us have seen Blaine," Burt said. "Spread the rumour that Blaine left the town. Tell people that you went to his sleeping place and his belongings were missing. It's the best way to cover up the tracks. If people think that Blaine is gone, they won't go looking for him."

"Okay, fine," Puck finally agreed. "But I'm coming back tomorrow morning and you can't stop me."

"I won't even try," Burt assured him. "You are welcome here anytime. I'm sure Blaine will appreciate a familiar face once he wakes up."

"Good," Puck nodded. "And I want updates every half an hour from you, princess. Anything, even something as small as a cough, understood?"

"Don't worry, I'll keep you posted."

"Fine," Puck agreed and left the room with Burt.

Kurt stood in the middle of his room not sure what to do and in the end he sat down on a chair and stared at the boy in his bed. He kept thinking what if they had met in different circumstances.

What if Kurt was still in Paris and Blaine was an exchange student from the States?

Kurt was sitting in the library, working on his history essay. He rubbed his tired eyes and when he opened them, his best friend was standing in front of him. He wasn't alone though.

"Hey, Kurt, how are you?" Gérard said in English, his thick French accent difficult to understand to an untrained ear.

"Why are you speaking English?" Kurt asked with a frown.

"Because, my friend, I'm here to introduce you to our new exchange student from America," the boy said and put his hand on the other boy's shoulder. "Kurt Hummel, meet Blaine Anderson. Blaine Anderson, this is Kurt Hummel."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Kurt," the boy smiled brightly.

"Nice to meet you too."

Blaine could have been a student at McKinley.

Kurt was walking to his next class after lunch on his first day of school when someone touched his shoulder. He turned around to see light honey eyes staring at him.

"Hi," the boy said.

"Hello," Kurt said in response.

The boy looked uncomfortably at him. "I'm Blaine," he said after a moment.

"My name is Kurt," the countertenor introduced himself.

"Can I be blunt, Kurt?" Blaine asked and Kurt nodded, curious what it was about. "Those girls you were having lunch with? I saw how uncomfortable you looked around them so I was thinking maybe tomorrow you would like to have lunch with me and my friends?"

Kurt let out a sigh of relief. "I'd love that. I don't really see eye to eye with them."

He could have moved to New York and Blaine could have been a barista in a coffee shop.

It was pouring outside and Kurt cursed himself for not taking his umbrella with him when he had left for the classes in the morning. He should have checked the weather forecast. He was wet almost to his underwear when he spotted a cosy looking coffee shop and decided to go in and warm a little. It would be smart to wait out the rain.

The place was almost empty, only two tables occupied by lonely people who looked like they were at peace in the place. Kurt immediately felt like home. With a smile he went to the counter to order a drink.

"Hey there, wonderful weather outside, huh?" a male barista with a name tag 'Blaine' appeared from behind the counter.

"Wonderful?" Kurt raised one eyebrow. "Tell that to my freezing ass."

"Um, I'm not really into that but it may be pretty hot," the boy winked at him.

Kurt felt the heat rising. "Oh my god, that's not what I meant, it was just a figure of speech, nothing else!"

The boy laughed at him. "Oh look, I got your cheeks warming up," he said with another wink. "So, what can I get you?"

"I'll have a Grande non-fat mocha and your phone number."

Seven various fantasies later with the horrifying reality in front of him Kurt heard the garage door opening as his dad came back home. A couple of minutes later Burt came into his son's to check on them.

"Any changes?" he asked.

"Nothing much," Kurt said. "His cheeks seem to get more colour and a few minutes ago he started shivering so I guess it's a good sign. He mumbles something from time to time as well."

"Good, that's good..." the man said and they fell into silence. "I'm sorry this happened, buddy. I knew you would have to face slavery back in the States but if I had known you would be exposed to this, I would have never made us move."

"It was a mutual decision, dad," Kurt said. "I knew what I was getting myself into or I thought I did. And think of it as an opportunity to save someone's life. If we hadn't moved here Blaine might have not survived this winter. We were meant to come here."

"I'm glad you think this way, son," Burt gave him a small smile.

"Are you afraid of police?" Kurt asked timidly.

Burt sighed and grimaced at that. "I'm trying not to think about it right now. We will cross that bridge when we get there if we get there, okay?"

Kurt nodded. "What about Carole's son?"

"I don't know... Make sure Noah doesn't do anything reckless. I'll try to talk to Carole, see what she thinks of slavery. Other than that I have no idea how to handle this. We have to be careful with people, who know about his. The more people know, the greater risk that someone will give our secret away."

"He can't go unpunished!" Kurt shouted.

"I know, I know," Burt said tiredly. "We will think of something, okay? Right now let's not think about it. We need to focus on getting Blaine better."

"You are right... You are tired, go to bed, dad," Kurt suggested.

"Okay but wake me up in a few, we will take turns watching him," Burt said.

"Okay," Kurt nodded and stood up. "Love you, dad."

"Love you too, buddy," Burt said and hugged his son tightly. "He'll be okay."

"I know," Kurt whispered. He didn't know that but he desperately wanted to believe his own words.