Surprisingly, Kurt finds Blaine’s hospital room a rather fitting place to do his homework. He’s never been the sort to have trouble doing it, but it certainly helps to erase all possible distractions. He doesn’t have the temptation to start cooking dinner early or to take an hour break to arrange his outfit for the next day. Even the beeping of the machine has become a steady lull in the background, a tempo that grounds him without diverting his attention.

“You know, there are definitely important reasons for taking Spanish, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy doing the work for it,” Kurt groans, letting his pen dip into the crevice of the book and turning to look at Blaine. There hasn’t been a change since earlier, except Kurt may have set a few things on the open spaces on the bed. No nurse has come to yell at him yet, so he figures it’s okay (maybe).

“My French classes are much more interesting. Ducks take to water like Kurt Hummel takes to French.” He grins, tilting his chin up as if proud of his reversal. He cocks his head to the side, looking at Blaine. “Come on, you know that was funny.”

Blaine groans.

Kurt sits up suddenly, his Spanish book slipping from his lap and thudding to the ground. He knows the pages will crease, but that’s the least of his concerns. For a few long moments, he just stares at Blaine. That—no, that must have been one of the machines or something. There’s no way Blaine just groaned. Blaine doesn’t groan. He doesn’t move or flutter his eyes or make noises.

“Blai—”

Another groan and Kurt is standing up, quickly pushing all of his stuff off the bed and nearly tripping over himself. Blaine is groaning! Groaning! Kurt stands there, fingers and hands twitching as if he has no idea what he’s supposed to do. Because Blaine is groaning. People in comas don’t groan, do they? Maybe Kurt should have done research on people in comas but—no, that’s ridiculous. He didn’t know he’d be seeing Blaine ever again and volunteers aren’t supposed to have medical knowledge, right? They’d just let him sign up! He doesn’t even know CPR!

Okay, no, he needs to calm down. Because Blaine is waking up. Blaine is waking up! No, that’s really not helping him calm down. Kurt suddenly wishes he was wearing something other than his Cheerios uniform, because, really, what kind of impression does that give? ‘I think he’ll be more surprised at the random guy in his hospital room!’ Right. Because even if Kurt sort of knows Blaine, Blaine does not know him. Unless he’s really been asleep this whole time and is just a wonderful actor.

Because normal people totally pretend to be in comas.

His feet are moving before he realizes it, but Kurt comes to himself before he does something horrific like knock over the chair or unplug vital machinery. He’s at the doorway in a matter of moments, grabbing the first person in those disgusting hospital scrubs that he sees.

“E-excuse me, it’s—he—” Kurt’s eyes must be doing a much better job than he is at explaining the situation, because the nurse takes one look at him before quickly turning on her heel and rushing past him into the room. They only lock eyes for a few moments, but something about her seems familiar and kind. Is it the same nurse from last week? Kurt can’t even remember that one’s name.

“Would you mind telling me what happened?” Her voice isn’t demanding or even annoyed, and she looks at Kurt briefly with patient understanding before bustling around machines. Kurt stands there, wringing his fingers and hands and wishing he wasn’t so ostentatious for once so he could blend in with the hospital walls.

“I… I was just talking to him, and then. He groaned! He groaned twice! And coma patients don’t groan, they—” He stops when he notices the nurse is just looking at him now, but her face isn’t horrified or happy. She wears a tight, small smile, but it’s not a happy one. If anything, she looks vaguely sad.

She turns towards Blaine, adjusting the sheets that don’t need adjusting and then brushing her fingers against his face. Kurt’s breath catches in his throat at the gesture and he isn’t quite sure why, his eyes following the movements.

“Your bruises are starting to look better, sweetheart,” she says quietly before she stands up again, looking over at Kurt. She doesn’t say anything about the mess of school supplies he’d pushed onto the ground, but moves back towards him after shooting one last look at Blaine.

“Isn’t he—” Kurt doesn’t finish his sentence as the same sad smile graces the nurse’s face. Isn’t he going to wake up? Kurt wants to ask, his eyes darting nervously to look at Blaine. Isn’t he supposed to turn his head and open his eyes and… And smile or something? That’s what’s supposed to happen.

“No, I’m afraid not,” she says with a shake of her head.

“But he… He groaned.” Kurt’s voice weakens as he speaks, and he realizes as soon as he says it that it doesn’t matter.

“How much do you know about comas, sweetie?” The nurse smiles gently. She isn’t mocking him and seems genuinely curious, but Kurt is suddenly berating himself for not knowing anything. When he doesn’t answer, the nurse presses a hand between his shoulder blades and guides him out into the hall. She nearly closes the door, leaving it open enough that Kurt can still see a sliver of Blaine’s face. When she does speak, her voice is hushed.

“People think comas are just people sleeping, and in a lot of ways that’s true. Except that there’s no way to wake him up. You could slap him across the face—please don’t, though, I shouldn’t have even said that—and he still wouldn’t wake up.” Kurt hadn’t considered trying to wake Blaine up, but now he definitely has no plans to.

“People in comas have been known to make noises, shift, even open their eyes. It’s a good sign, it means he isn’t in too deeply.” The nurse wears the same small smile again, the one that doesn’t reach her eyes. ‘She’s worried.’ Just the thought of it makes Kurt’s chest constrict uncomfortably.

The nurse is looking at him again, a bit more curiously, and Kurt remembers, again, what he’s wearing. ‘Seriously, change next time.’

“You go to McKinley?” It’s the last possible question he expected, and Kurt blinks dumbly at her for a moment before nodding. Vaguely, he debates making a snappy comment (“no, I just like wearing random high school cheerleading uniforms”) but something stops him. Maybe it’s the way the nurse had explained what happened to Blaine, or how she had showed Blaine such affection. He isn’t quite sure.

“I thought you looked familiar. My son goes there.” Dread curls uncomfortably in his stomach as he tries to imagine who her son could be. Is he a football player? Someone who torments Kurt on a regular basis? Will he have to act pleasant about someone who doesn’t even see him as a living, breathing human being?

“Does he?” Kurt’s voice betrays him, coming out higher than it had moments before, but she doesn’t seem to notice (at least, she doesn’t react to the change).

“Yes, he’s on the football team.” The dread solidifies. “You were on the football team, weren’t you?” Kurt nods stiffly, but she doesn’t seem satisfied with that alone. “No, that’s—You’re in Glee club, aren’t you?” Her eyes light up in a way that Kurt doesn’t understand.

How would she—

“Do you know Finn?”

Kurt is almost positive he stops breathing. He manages to nod somehow, and she grins.

“Carole Hudson. I’m Finn’s mother.” Kurt is pretty sure he’s gaping as Carole holds out her hand, but he grabs it and shakes it the way he was taught. His dad always told him that you could learn a lot about a person depending on their handshake. Kurt just hopes his is as firm as he’d practiced it and isn’t like loose spaghetti (because that’s certainly what he feels like right now).

“Are you going to the parent teacher night tonight?” The question whooshes out of him as his brain begins to turn. He’s planning before she even registers the question.

“I was actually on my way out when you stopped me.” She smiles at him and Kurt swiftly falls from panicked hospital volunteer to the nicest, politest teenage boy Carole Hudson could ever meet.

“I’m supposed to go with my dad. He was going to come and get me here, but, as you know, it’s a little out of the way.” He pauses and she smiles, nodding as if she understands and sympathizes. “Do you think maybe you could give me a ride?”

Carole seems surprised by the question, her eyes sweeping over Kurt curiously before she smiles. “I don’t see why not. How sweet of you. Finn would never come to one of these things.” Kurt figured as much, but tonight isn’t about Finn (well, not completely), it’s about Carole… And his dad.

“I just need to go and change. You call your dad, okay?” Kurt just smiles and nods as Carole whisks away and he tries not to do a victory dance. Slipping back into the room, he begins shoving things into his bag while shooting a text message to his dad (his dad doesn’t really text, but he can read them just fine). He frets for a minute about having to go in his Cheerios uniform, but he’ll have to deal.

He looks at Blaine excitedly while he slings his bag across his body and beams. “Finn Hudson’s mom,” he mouths, afraid she might sneak up on him at any moment. It’s silent for a moment and then he laughs, realizing Blaine can’t exactly read lips right now.

“I have to go, but. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.” Tomorrow. Kurt smiles and then nods, backing towards the door.

“Yes. Definitely tomorrow.”