"You don't remember anything? "

"Some things are familiar, but I can't quite place them."

The world was crashing. It was spinning out of control. The ground was quaking, threatening to leave a hole where he was standing. All the walls were rattling, the windows threatening to shatter. Everything was moving, and it wouldn't stop.

The world wasn't moving.

"Blaine? Blaine, please say something. Blaine?" Kurt started pleading. It had been silent for too long.

"Blaine, honey, Blaine, please… please, Blaine." His knees were threatening to give out.

Suddenly the world kicked back into life on the other side of the line. Some car in the distance was making noise. Kurt hated the sound. Now he knew the line hadn't cut. He was still listening to the sounds of an accident. And his husband wasn't replying.

"Blaine, please. Anything, please. Just something. Come on… Blaine?" He felt the tears start to roll down his cheeks. He had gripped the counter at some point, but he wasn't aware. His knees were giving out.

As he slid down the side cabinets, he began to feel desperate. He began to feel denial. Blaine's phone piece must have flown from the car. It wasn't near him anymore, that's why he wasn't replying. Blaine was fine. Maybe a little scratched up, but they could deal with that. Kurt would kiss the wounds and make them better. They could deal with that.

"Blaine…" Kurt was aware that if the phone wasn't next to his husband's ear, he wouldn't hear him, as he was whispering now. Praying to a heavenly presence he didn't believe in.

Just let him be okay.

"Blaine, please, baby, please, just say something, anything. Give me a grunt, give me anything. Please…"

There was no response.

Kurt could hear feet now, some people running around. There were a few screams and shouts for help, but none of them sounded like Blaine. And that's all Kurt could focus on right now. His Blaine. His Blaine who wasn't saying anything.

Please, he can't die, he can't.

"Blaine… come on, you gotta give me something. Please." The tears were streaming down Kurt's face, but he hadn't noticed, he felt completely empty inside.

He heard a scuffle on the other side and his heart jumped into his throat only to wrench down again when he heard a voice that wasn't Blaine's.

"Hey, we've got to get this guy out of here, I don't like the state of his car." It was male. But it wasn't the one Kurt was straining to hear.

There was a voice that replied, female this time, it was softer than the man's, "I don't know if we can move him, he doesn't look so good." Her voice trailed even softer and Kurt pressed the phone as close as he could to hear her, "Is he even alive?"

Kurt choked on a sob. Please.

"I think so," it was the male voice again, "He looks pretty beat up, but I can kind of see his chest moving…"

There was a grunt and Kurt could hear glass being moved, a heavy breath drawing nearer. It wasn't Blaine though, Kurt could tell.

The man's voice sounded strained, as if he were in an awkward position, as he shouted to the woman, "He's got a pulse. It's weak but… We gotta get him out of here."

Kurt tried to speak, tried to get the man to hear him, but he was paralyzed. Blaine had a pulse. Blaine was alive. Blaine was going to be okay. Kurt was wrenching apart.

There was a shifting sound, and then a rattling. Everything sounded a little more distant. The phone must have tumbled away from the trio.

Kurt snapped back into himself, "Blaine!" His voice was pleading, cracking, heavy with emotion. If he could get one of the others to hear him he would be able to better figure out what was going on.

But it was too late. Kurt noticed the amount of sound outside the car, and with the phone having fallen away from them, there's no way he would be heard.

"I'm not sure how we're supposed to move him," it was the woman again, "we could do a lot more damage."

Kurt dropped his head into his free hand, feeling the wetness of his cheeks smear into his palm. He'd been unaware until he felt his lips brush his skin that he'd been repeating a mantra of Blaine's name.

"I told you Miss, I don't like the state of his car," the man said gruffly. "There could be more damage leaving him here. Plus, the way he's in there, that can't be good either."

Kurt listened to the chaos going on around them. There was still the sound of cars moving, probably on the other side of the highway, and it was mixed in with numerous voices scrambling around, trying to help and be helped. He was silent now, knowing he wouldn't be heard on the other end, too emotionally stressed to scream until he was.

"What have you got over here?" There was another female voice in the mix now. She sounded slightly British.

Kurt listened as the man recounted the state of his husband. He mentioned that he'd seen enough car accidents to know that the injured man should be removed from his.

The woman now spoke, and Kurt felt as happy as he could in this situation, "I'll help you move him, I'm actually a doctor. For animals, but I can help."

Kurt rolled his head into the cupboards behind him, reaching up to place a palm on the wood. He prayed she'd tell him more about the situation. He just wanted to hear that Blaine would be alright. He wanted to know where they'd take him. He wanted it to have never happened.

There weren't many more words spoken between the man and the doctor. He hadn't heard the first woman's voice in a while, and assumed that with the arrival of a doctor, she had left to help someone else. Kurt took this moment to be grateful that there were decent people left in the world. People who would drop everything to help.

While there wasn't the sound of words, there were a lot of new sounds for Kurt to listen to. He heard when the woman must have crawled halfway into the car to see what they had to be wary of when getting Blaine out. He heard the sound of glass being moved. He heard the sound of a zipper, which must have been someone removing a sweatshirt to cover a broken window frame or something.

He heard the unmistakable sound of a body being dragged, and knew that they were pulling Blaine out. He had no idea what position his car was in, but it didn't sound like it was upright anymore.

The voices were quieter, farther away, when he heard them again. Kurt had to press the phone as close as he could to make out most of what they were saying, and he felt him draw in upon himself when he caught what they were discussing.

"I've never seen so much blood before," the man stated.

"Head wounds, they bleed a lot." She sounded authoritative. She knew what she was doing and was in full doctor mode. He could hear her fussing about over Blaine, trying to stop the bleeding.

"What's the verdict?"

"I'm not sure, this isn't really my area."

"Do you think he'll live?"

She sighed softly, stepping back from doctor mode and into one of a concerned citizen, "He might. There is a lot of blood, and he looks pretty banged up. But he might be a fighter."

There was a new noise, and Kurt wasn't sure he liked it. There was more crunching of metal and shifting of glass. He heard the man curse in the background, and realized that whatever he had thought was going to happen with the car, was happening.

There was a loud groaning coming through the phone and then a smash. The car was moving. Kurt thought that it must have been tipping over somehow. Whatever state it was in before must have been very precarious.

The phone must have moved again, because Kurt heard it smash and go dead. The line cut, all the noises from before stopping suddenly. He was cut off from the scene of the accident.

Kurt clenched his hand around the phone and screamed. This wasn't how today was supposed to happen. This never should have happened. Blaine should be getting close to home. He should be coming home to his husband and daughter. He was supposed to talk about work and act like a goofball as he conversed with their daughter about school. He wasn't supposed to be lying on a highway, bloody and unconscious.

Kurt curled his legs in as tight as he could and wept.

He could barely hear anything through his sobs, and so he didn't catch that small creak from just outside the entrance to the kitchen that announced the arrival of his daughter.

He did catch the question that she must have asked right before she turned the corner and saw him crumpled on the ground.

"When's Papa going to get home?"

Kurt's hand came out and slammed into the ground in his distress. It was loud and it startled him.

"Daddy?" came a small voice as she stood in the doorway. Kurt had gotten emotional before around her, but never once had he been in the state he was now. Never had the life of his husband been completely at stake before.

His head shifted up at her call, and he could see a blurry version of her through his tears. He saw her dark hair and slight frame. She reminded him so much of Blaine, and he felt a new flood of tears break free. He brought his hands up to cover his face; she shouldn't see him like this.

Now that he was aware of her presence, he heard her hurry over to him as he cried.

Standing, she was taller than his sitting form, and she immediately wrapped her body around his, as if she were protecting a broken bird from a storm. Her body pressed into his side and her hands snaked around him, pulling him into her. She rested her cheek on the top of his head and lifted one hand to stroke through his hair.

Kurt's voice was shaky and raw as he asked, "What are you doing?"

"This is what Papa does when you're upset."

She sounded confused, but she was picking up on Kurt's emotions, and because of that, she sounded sad. She was quiet and thoughtful. She knew something was wrong, but she didn't know how to make it better. And because she was always more like Blaine than Kurt, all she wanted was to help make the pain to go away.

Dropping the phone from his still clenched hand, Kurt reached around her, pulling her in, and sobbed his husbands name into the front of her dress.