“Ten pounds. Ten pounds. Does she really expect me to do that?”

Kurt walks beside Mercedes, half paying attention as he touches his hip insecurely. Pear hips? What does that even mean? He knows he still has some baby fat, but… He’s lost so much already, even just compared to the beginning of the year.

“Is that even physically possible without stopping eating altogether?”

He’s too soft looking. That must be it. Maybe Coach Sylvester wants to put him in a Cheerios skirt as well. No, no, he can do this, he can lose a few pounds. He eats healthy already, he just needs to… Eat less, maybe. He can’t get kicked off the Cheerios. That’s all he has now. Cheerios and Glee and…

“Kurt?”

“Huh?” They’re at his locker and he looks at Mercedes, who had already looked weighed down at her newly imposed diet but is now looking at him with concern, too.

“You okay? You’ve been acting out of it all morning. What’s up?” Mercedes means well, Kurt knows she does. She’s the closest thing he has to a best friend (now, he adds subconsciously) but he just forces a smile at her.

“I’m fine, it’s just. Long weekend, Monday, that sort of thing.” He shrugs it off, or so he hopes, turning to his locker and beginning to exchange the books in his bag. Kurt can still feel Mercedes’ eyes on him, unsure. “Actually,” he begins again before she can pry further. He doesn’t want to talk about Saturday, about the hospital, about Blaine. Not to Mercedes. He has this feeling deep in his gut that she wouldn’t understand, and if his best friend doesn’t get it… Well, it’s better if he keeps it to himself.

“I spent all of yesterday coming up with design ideas for my room. Tell you about them on the way to class?” This time his smile is brighter, more convincing. If there’s one thing to pull him out of his funk, it’s interior decorating.

And then there’s Finn, of course. Hadn’t he been the whole reason for this in the first place? Kurt had accomplished the first crucial part in his plan, anyways. His dad and Mrs. Hud—Carole, they were dating now. That was the important part. Not to mention he could still volunteer at the hospital and befriend Carole. He didn’t have to visit Blaine. There were plenty of people to visit. A whole hospital full of people just waiting to be visited.

It didn’t have to be Blaine.

---

It takes Kurt twice as long to get to the hospital as usual.

Not because of Glee practice, not because of Cheerios practice, not because he randomly decided to go to the library for some reason. But because he keeps telling himself not to go to the hospital today.

It’s Monday. He doesn’t need to go. He can easily go back to his twice a week routine, just like he’d started with, and things would be fine. Things would be normal again. He’d do his homework at a desk instead of at the bedside of a comatose teenager, he’d have conversations with people who answered back.

But something kept making him turn back around until he was shutting off the ignition in the hospital parking structure.

This was insane. He’d only been visiting Blaine daily for a week. It really shouldn’t have been this big of a deal to stop. That’s what his mom had asked him to do, and he wasn’t about to go against Blaine’s family. He seems like a family person. He can’t help but remember Blaine’s mother’s absence though in all the time Kurt has spent there, but, at the same time, the sound of her sobbing still stung his ears as if he was hearing it right at that moment.

Why was he here?

He’d never felt so lost after signing in, fidgeting as he stared down the hall he normally took. It wouldn’t hurt to peak in on Blaine, would it? After all, what if he woke up yesterday or something? Kurt at least had the right to know that he was alright, didn’t he? It didn’t hurt to walk past the door and casually glance inside, did it?

You are a crazy person.

“Kurt!”

Spinning on his heel, Kurt comes face to face with none other than Carole. His face splits into another forced smile and he fights the urge to sigh. At least with Blaine I never had to fake having a good day. With Blaine, it didn’t matter if his days were bad.

“Carole,” he greets just as enthusiastically. “You look lovely today.” Surprisingly, it’s not a complete lie. Despite the scrubs, she looks a bit more put together, and her hair is actually done nicely. Dating his father is doing good things for her.

She touches her hair, basking in the compliment for a moment. “Well, yes, I—did your dad not tell you?” She looks awkward for a moment, and he keeps smiling even if his teeth are clenched.

“Tell me what?” Abort abort abort.

“Well, we… He’s taking me out again. Tonight, actually, so.” Kurt’s shoulders nearly slump in relief, but he’s better than that. Please.

“That’s fantastic, Carole.” And Kurt doesn’t have to try so hard to smile this time. Carole does sigh with relief, as if Kurt’s opinion of her is absolutely pivotal. Then again, maybe it is. Wow. She must be pretty interested if she’s invested in my opinion already. “Saturday night must have gone well then?” He hedges, and she blushes, fumbling with the hem of her shirt.

“Well, I think so, he… Your dad didn’t say anything?”

This is precious. Kurt has never seen a woman Carole’s age blush so much or act so bashful, and for once it doesn’t matter that she’s a pawn in the plan. She looks so… Happy. I did that.

“Oh, he didn’t have to. He came home Saturday night practically with hearts in his eyes. I haven’t seen him smile like that in a long time.” And my dad is happy. Carole smiles softly at him in a maternal way that Kurt is unused to, and it churns deep in his stomach. “Anyways, I—”

“That’s right, you’re here to see Blaine, aren’t you?” Carole looks at him knowingly and Kurt feels the need to blush. Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t you dare blush.

“Actually, I was just stopping by to see you. Actually, I was wondering if you were working this weekend?” He needs to steer the conversation away from Blaine, and he needs to do it now.

“This…? No. I’m off on Friday, and—”

“Perfect.” Kurt reaches forward and takes her hand, and she looks up at him in surprise. “My dad really likes you, Carole, and I’d love it if we got to know each other better.” He gives the back of her hand a nice tap for emphasis and she looks taken aback and flattered. “I have some excellent ideas for your hair, actually—if you wouldn’t mind?”

He’ll still tell her, he knows, but it’s polite to at least pretend he cares about her opinion.

“That… Sounds really nice, actually. Listen, I have to get back to work, but you’ll be here tomorrow, right?” Kurt opens his mouth to say no, not tomorrow, I can’t come back. “We’ll discuss it then, okay?” She looks apologetic, glancing over his shoulder hurriedly before nodding a goodbye to him and hurrying away. Kurt would almost think it was rude if he wasn’t still floored by the fact that he has to come back tomorrow.

Just for that. You’ll arrange things with Carole and leave. People go to the hospital without visiting people all the time. Yeah. Injured people. But he was visiting Carole; that was justification enough. But really, they should have exchanged cell phone numbers or something. Wow, and wouldn’t texting his dad’s girlfriend be weird?

He begins to follow the path Carole had just taken, the path that he took nearly every day last week as he went to visit Blaine. It had never taken this long, and he wonders if he’s dawdling on purpose, looking at each door he passes and wondering about the people beyond them. A hospital full of people. Kurt wonders how he walked through these halls for a week without feeling the slightest bit depressed.

But he feels it now, like a stone stuck from his throat down to his gut.

Blaine’s door is closed. That’s the first thing he notices when he gets there. Is someone in there? Has he woken up and now he’s closed off to people who aren’t family? I should have asked Carole. I should have just asked her. His hands grip at the strap of his bag and he stands there, suddenly blank on what he should do.

Kurt looks at the plaque on the wall beside the door. ‘Anderson’ is scrawled beneath the room number and he wonders how he’d never seen it before. He stares at the door again. Blaine Anderson. So that’s his full name then.

Reaching into his bag, he slowly takes out another flower—a paper daisy. Not quite as real looking as the rose, but... Still pretty. Kurt feels proud of it. Kurt wonders why he spent the rest of his Saturday perfecting it. He doesn’t know why he brought it with him at all.

Resigned, he tucks it into the empty clipboard holder on the outside of the door and walks away. He asks himself, again, why he even came at all.

---

It’s not until he’s home (“earlier than usual,” his dad comments, but then asks Kurt for clothes advice and Kurt really should thank Carole for existing after that), settling down at his desk and flicking on his computer that an idea strikes him.

He knows Blaine’s name now. Sort of. Is Blaine Anderson a common name? Kurt’s never met anyone named Blaine before. Besides, he knows that this Blaine Anderson is from Ohio and at least close to Lima, right?

His fingers are typing before he can even think through it completely.

Blaine Anderson stares at him from the search bar while his finger hovers over the enter key. Kurt wonders for a minute what he’ll find. A Facebook page? MySpace even? A YouTube channel? Maybe a newspaper article? I could find out what happened. His finger twitches.

I could find out who you are, Blaine Anderson.

He closes his eyes.

I could finally know you.

He shuts his laptop more forcefully then he should, almost pushing it away as if it contains something evil.

Who are you, Kurt Hummel? And why do you care who Blaine Anderson is?