“We should probably wait a second,” he whispered.

“His dad’s still in there, and he’s going back to work tomorrow.”

He fingered the package in his hands nervously; two thrift store DVDs, one The Wizard of Oz, and the other West Side Story. They were the latest in a stack of presents for Blaine. It was Wednesday, four days since Blaine had woken up. Kurt had spent Saturday night in the family room of the hospital, much like that first night those two weeks ago, and then all Sunday at Blaine’s bedside, only leaving when pressed away by the doctor so that Blaine could be taken for more scans, or when his mother’s frosty eyes had stopped him in his tracks at the door. Kurt knew the woman still hadn’t forgiven him for his one shake of the head in that corridor, for denying her the comfort of knowing her son had thought of her in his darkest hour. Kurt knew he shouldn’t blame her; but on the other hand, he couldn’t find it within himself to forgive her.

Thankfully the scans had been clear; Blaine still needed drips and drugs and whatever else, but, thank God, he was awake. Kurt could deal with whatever else. He closed his eyes and pressed his hand to his face. The happiness of it continually threatened to overwhelm him. Mercedes put her hand on his shoulder, thinking he was about to burst into the same tears he had when explaining Blaine’s breakthrough to her down the phone. It had taken the best part of thirty minutes for her to work him through what ‘Merc… Bl… he… o… ju… ka… ta… ya…” had meant. If he hadn’t been alternating between sobs and hysterical laughter she would have thought the worst.

Kurt simply turned and hugged her. Rachel smiled and slid her arm round Finn, leaning on his shoulder to balance the weight of the huge bouquet in her other arm. He smiled too and stroked her hair.

The door before the group opened, with a man backing through it.

“Bye, son. I love you…I’ll call tomorrow, alright? Look after your mother for me…”

He closed the door, and turning, almost crashed into the group of teenagers.

“Oh, oh, I’m sorry.”

He hastily wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve and moved to go around them, before he spotted Kurt. He was dressed in a smart business suit and a large grey plastic suitcase rolled behind him.

“Oh, Kurt.”

He held out his hand. Kurt took it and shook it.

“Hello.”

This was only his second meeting with Mr Anderson. He already liked him more than his wife.

“How are you? It’s good of you to come again. I…I know it must be difficult after school, and what with Nationals coming up and all that.”

Mr Anderson glanced at the other children. He’d remembered their previous conversation. Kurt smiled.

“Not at all. Um…Mr Anderson; this is Mercedes, Rachel and Finn.”

He shook each of their hands in turn. His eyes were dark and heavy, but brighter, oh so much brighter, than when Kurt had first met him.

“We’re so glad Blaine’s back, Mr Anderson.” Said Rachel. “All of us.”

Finn nodded behind her.

“Please, please call me Stuart.”

She nodded. He sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“I have to thank all of you so much for what you did for my son.”

He looked only at Kurt.

“And what you’re still doing. It makes this so much easier to know he has so many people who care about him.”

Kurt smiled gently. Stuart Anderson looked around at his suitcase, and then down at his watch.

“Well, sorry, but I have to go. Plane to catch. But it was lovely to meet you all; and good luck.”

With a final squeeze of Kurt’s hand and a wave, he set off down the corridor.

“Come on,” said Kurt, pulling Mercedes along by the hand, glancing back at Blaine’s retreating dad. He would have liked to have had a proper conversation with him. He peered around the door once more. Blaine lay with his eyes closed, slightly raised up on his pillows. He turned back round, slightly disappointed.

“I think he’s asleep.”

“So…we should come back later?” Asked Finn.

“Maybe…or we could go in, but just sit in silence…or…”

But Kurt was interrupted by a fragile, light, far away voice.

“Or you could stop talking and come in here? Fooled you, dummy.”

Before his friends’ eyes, Kurt’s face lit up and split into a huge grin. He disappeared round the door. Mercedes, Rachel and Finn all exchanged looks with a smile, and followed him. Blaine smiled at them over Kurt’s shoulder as the two embraced.

“Hi guys, thanks for coming.”

Finn was struck by how pale he looked, and how tired. A single tube of oxygen still snaked into his nose, taped delicately to his left cheekbone. He hesitated but then, as Kurt backed away, moved forwards. He took an offered hand and held it.

“Hey man; good to see you. So good.”

Blaine smiled. Rachel and Mercedes both came up and hugged him; carefully and warily through the wires which still laced the bed. Kurt drew up some more chairs from a corner and they all sat; Kurt near Blaine’s head, swivelled so that the two of them faced the rest.

“We’ve got presents.”

Smiled Kurt, like a little kid. He offered up his package. Blaine rolled his eyes secretively at Rachel and Mercedes, and they laughed. But he ripped the paper slowly, and kissed Kurt in thanks all the same. In truth he could not conceal his happiness at the choice of movies.

“And, oh my gosh, you guys didn’t need to bring flowers.”

Rachel blushed, leaning them against an already full table. Blaine looked them over earnestly.

“They’re gorgeous.”

“Thanks.”

They paused. Finn shuffled to sit on his hands.

“We met your dad.” He offered.
“Oh yeah?”

Said Blaine, reaching slowly for a bottle on the nightstand. Kurt passed it to him and their hands touched. He drank slowly and haltingly.

“Just now? In the corridor?”

“Yeah. He seems really nice.”

There was another silence.

Kurt leaned forward and brushed the hair from Blaine’s forehead. A ladder of white stitches crept away from his hand into the hairline, over-lacing a dark purplish pink crevice. It was visible, maybe even ugly, but it did nothing to mutilate the handsome beauty Kurt saw before him. Blaine winced in spite of himself.

“They took the bandage off?”

“I know. This morning.”

“It looks good. Fine.”

“Really? I haven’t seen it yet. I wasn’t really awake.”

Rachel glanced up at Kurt, then looked to Blaine.

“Blaine?”

He pulled his eyes slowly from Kurt’s to face her.

“Mmm?”

“I’ve got a mirror in my bag, if you’d like?”

She gestured. Kurt looked worried for a second, but Blaine laughed.

“Ok…alright, go on then. I guess I’m gonna have to look at it for ever anyway; might as well start now.”

She reached down and rummaged until pulling it out and standing up, glancing at Kurt. Moving forward she handed him the mirror. Blaine pushed down on his hands and slid himself higher on his pillows. For a second he had to pause and close his eyes. But then he opened them, letting out a long, low whistle of breath and looked Kurt in the eyes.

“Show me the monster, then.”

He half smiled, but Kurt heard all the nervousness in his voice. He made his eyes into a statement: You don’t have to do this. But Blaine’s stared evenly back at him: Yes, I do. Kurt held up the mirror to that beautiful face.

Blaine’s eyes widened. He swallowed and looked from his face to his forehead and back again. Like a child he raised his hand slowly, watching it in the mirror. Kurt saw an innocent recognition ignite in his eyes; the image, with its purple gash, and he, were one and the same. Blaine closed his eyes and walked his fingers along its length, feeling the puckered ridges, wincing at the bruised tenderness. But then he sniffed, shook his hair back into place and opened his eyes; he avoided the mirror. With a nod to himself he looked up at them all.

“No…that’s ok. It’s not too bad…”

Kurt put the mirror down, sliding it over the bed, over Blaine’s legs, to Rachel. He took up Blaine’s hand again. It shook slightly.

“It’ll fade. And when you’re hair’s down, you can hardly see it. Only if you look.”

Finn nodded in agreement and spoke up cheerily.

“Besides, chicks love scars.”

Kurt gave him a look of disbelief.

“Oh…oh right…”

Why did he never think before he opened his mouth?

“Um…well…guys think they’re cool too? Right, Kurt?”

Blaine gave a small laugh. Mercedes couldn’t help a huge grin breaking across her face. Rachel punched Finn on the arm.

“I think it’s cute, Blaine.” She added.

He smiled again.

“Thanks guys.”

“I think it’s dashing.” Smiled Kurt. “Heroic. It’s going to remind me never to take you for granted.”

He kissed the hand he held. Rachel bent forwards to pick up the mirror and put it back in her bag, but Blaine, watching their faces and seeing their optimism, pushed out his left hand.

“Wait, Rachel. Can I have it again? Just for a second.”

He wasn’t going to let his new impression of himself be a disfigured one. She passed him the mirror and he looked into it, studying the familiar face, noting every new line, every shade of red and pink and purple and white, compiling the image. Biting his lip, he passed the mirror back to her. Kurt watched him anxiously. Blaine stretched his neck and scratched his hand next to his IV line.

“I feel like a less glamorous and sexy version of Harry Potter.” He pronounced.