"Son, can you hear me? Kurt?"

Kurt heard the voice and wanted to respond to it, but he couldn't find his eyes to open them. His entire body felt incredibly heavy, weighed down by some invisible force. What the heck was going on? What happened? In a flash, he remembered singing "Perfect" with Blaine and then a crash. His eyes flipped open and he looked around, finding his dad sitting next to him.

"Thank God," Burt muttered. "Hey kid, how you feeling?"

"Is he okay?" Kurt rasped, his throat feeling raw. "Is Blaine okay?"

Burt looked like he was making a decision before he spoke. "Blaine's going to be okay, yes. Now you need to relax, you got pretty messed up in that accident."

Kurt wasn't listening. He may be out of it, his head might be filled with a million cotton balls, but he'd caught the 'going to be' part of his dad's answer. Which meant Blaine wasn't okay right now. He weakly shoved at the sheets covering him and started edging his feet toward the side of the bed.

"Kurt, no, now come on, stay in the bed," Burt said, standing and putting his hand on Kurt's chest.

"I have to see him," Kurt mumbled, sitting up and then weaving as he was overcome by lightheadedness. The room twinkled in black and white and he fell back against the pillow. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

"You've got a minor concussion, that's why you need to stay in bed. You've also got a bunch of cuts on your hands and arms, bruises everywhere and a broken nose from the air bag," Burt said, trying to keep the worry off his face.

"I'm fine, Dad, just woozy, don't worry. What about Blaine? He was on the side that got hit, right? I can't remember what happened after the crash," Kurt said, his head aching as he tried to fill in the blanks. But he settled back onto the bed and let his dad cover him with the blankets.

"Yeah, he was. You don't remember though? You pulled him out of the car and kept him from bleeding to death. The paramedics found you on the side of the road with Blaine in your lap and your shirt wrapped around his head. He took a pretty good beating in that accident," Burt said, letting Kurt take in these bits of information. "The doctors said if you hadn't acted so quickly, Blaine may not have made it out alive."

"He's that bad?" Kurt asked, his eyes wide. His face ached slightly and he touched it, realizing that a broken nose was kind of painful.

"Didn't you hear what I said? You saved his life," Burt said, giving him a look.

"Dad, you are avoiding telling me what is going on with Blaine. Now, either you tell me what is going on with my fiancé or I'll walk my ass around this hospital until I find him myself," Kurt said, hoping it wouldn't come to that. He felt like a limp noodle and his head really did hurt.

"Alright, but I don't want you flipping out on me, okay? He really will be alright," Burt began, his green eyes still worried.

Kurt nodded and took his dad's offered hand. He ignored the rock in his stomach. His dad said he'd be fine and that had to mean something, didn't it?

"The way the car hit, it looks like it threw Blaine around a bit and he ended up hitting his head against the side of his door. He got cut up a bit on the back of his head from glass, which caused all the bleeding. The docs think between the bleeding and the impact of his head that that's why he's, uh. Kurt, he's in a coma."

Kurt's eyes went wide and he froze. Coma? As in not awake? All he could think was not again. He'd been through this hell with his dad and his heart attack so many years ago. Now Blaine. Think, Kurt, he chided himself. "Um. How long has it been? Is he responding to anything?" he asked remembering the kinds of things the doctors had looked for when his dad was in a coma. Sometimes a patient will still react to outside stimuli, which was a good sign. He had his answer in his dad's expression.

"It's been a little over twenty four hours. Sorry, bud, I wish I could give you better news, but no, there is no reaction to anything. Are you thirsty? Do you want some water or maybe something to eat?" His dad asked, gesturing almost helplessly.

He was on the verge of saying no, food and drink were the last things on his mind. But then he realized that the sooner he got stronger, the sooner he could go be with Blaine.

"Yeah, that sounds good," he said numbly.

His dad helped him sit up slowly then found him some broth and a cup of water and Kurt did his best to get it all down.

After he finished that, Finn and Carole came in to see him. When his stepmom sat on his bed and hugged him, he finally allowed some tears to escape. Carole had become a mother to him in all the important ways and with her soft scent surrounding him and lending him comfort, he let go of his strength for a moment. After weeping quietly, her hand rubbing small circles on his back, he looked up to find the room empty.

"Kurt, I got in to see Blaine, and I really think he will be okay. His body needs time to get over the shock of the accident. He's breathing on his own and all of his organ functions are fine. He just needs to wake up," she said reassuringly.

"Have his parents come by at all?" Kurt asked hesitantly. He remembered their last conversation and had no idea how that would come to bear on their feelings for their son.

"No. Your dad called them, but they just asked that we update them by phone. They said something about being too busy with work to get away," she said, looking disgusted.

"I'm not too surprised. We told them about the engagement just before the accident and they were not happy at all. They were calling us unnatural and disgusting and all the other nasty names ignorant people call us," he said, feeling suddenly exhausted.

Carole's expression hardened. Then seeing Kurt's pale, bruised face, she cupped his cheek. "You try and rest now. The sooner you get better, the sooner you can go be with him," she said, copying his exact sentiments.

"Maybe just a little nap," Kurt agreed, closing his eyes.

. . .

When he woke up, he realized it was the next day. It had been dark out when he'd woken up before, now light was shining in his room. Finn was curled up in the guest chair, looking horribly uncomfortable.

Kurt was relieved when he realized he felt much more clear headed then yesterday. His head didn't even hurt as much as it had. Slowly and carefully, he leaned up into a sitting position. Despite the dull throbbing in his head and face, he felt he could handle getting up. He desperately needed to use the bathroom. His feet had just touched the cold tile floor when he heard a grunt.

"Hey, dude, you aren't supposed to be getting up," Finn protested groggily, coming over to him.

"Well, unless you want me to pee all over the floor, I need to get to the bathroom," Kurt said, knowing just what to say to motivate his stepbrother.

"Okay, here I'll just help you, then," he said, looking worried.

With Finn supporting him with an arm around the waist, Kurt was able to make his way into the bathroom. When he was done, he splashed some water on his face, cringing at the reflection in the mirror. Two minor black eyes and a nasty bruise along his jaw line. Deciding to see all of the damage since he was at it, he lifted the hospital gown and grimaced at the bruising up and down his ribcage. He was grateful for the airbags, he just wished they didn't cause their own kind of damage. His arms were nicked here and there from the glass and his legs had assorted bruises. Overall, he was sore, but okay. He was feeling more steady as well. He decided it was time to demand to be taken to see Blaine.

To his surprise, he didn't have to demand. The doctor who came later that afternoon proclaimed him free to go as long as he didn't start to feel too poorly. His dad had brought him a pair of pajama pants, a t-shirt, and hoodie to wear. Usually Kurt would have put up a fuss, but this was getting him to Blaine faster, so he eased into the clothes. At once, he was grateful for his dad's choices. The soft, non-restrictive materials were comfortable against his bruised skin. He couldn't even fathom slipping into a pair of skinny jeans right now. He grimaced as he realized he'd never thought he'd ever say that.

The nurses insisted on him being in a wheelchair though he felt fine enough to walk and again, he didn't argue. He was chanting Blaine's name in his head and he just wanted to get to him. Suddenly a thought occurred to him and he began to panic.

Looking down at his hand, he cried out. "My ring! Dad, my ring is gone," tears immediately sprang into his eyes as he lamented the loss of his engagement ring.

"Hold on, Kurt," his dad said and came toward him, reaching a hand in his pocket. "They gave it to me for safekeeping and I just forgot to give it back to you."

Kurt smiled gratefully at his dad through his tears. "Thank you, Dad," he said, slipping the ring back on his left hand. He felt better already, having this piece of Blaine touching his body again.

. . .

Going into Blaine's hospital room was surreal. Blaine's suddenly small looking body was surrounded by wires and machines beeping and making noises, all keeping track of his beloved's vitals. He left the wheelchair by the door, making sure his legs were steady before he stood. Tears flowed unchecked down Kurt's face as he made his way to the side of the bed.

"Blaine," he whispered, taking Blaine's hand gently in his. "Blaine, can you hear me, sweetie? It's Kurt. I'm right next to you and I'm not leaving until you wake up, okay?" Pulling up a chair, he sat next to the bed, keeping Blaine's hand in his. He scanned his love's face and body, spying small bandages here and there, most notably the one across his head. It made his heart ache when there was no response to his words or his touch, but he remembered his father hadn't responded either. Not until his body was ready to wake up.

For the rest of the day, he sat there, talking to Blaine, reading to him from magazines, only stopping when he had to eat and drink whatever his dad brought him. His dad wanted him to go home to sleep, but at his adamant refusal, his father tracked down a chair that would pull out into a sort of bed. It was horribly uncomfortable, but as long as he could still hear the steady pulse of Blaine's heart monitor, he would be fine.

The next day followed the same pattern. His dad called the Anderson's, who again, were too busy to come see their comatose son. They claimed there was nothing they could do anyway except sit around, so they may as well at least be productive. Kurt knew his dad had a hard time biting his tongue through that call, but he was a diplomat from his years as a congressman, so he handled it with ease. Only the white knuckles grasping his phone gave away his tension.

"Those damn fools. What parent doesn't come see their kid in the hospital? Especially when they're in such bad shape?" Burt grumbled.

Kurt smiled warmly at his father, sipping the tea he'd brought him. "Not every parent is as great as you are, Dad."

Burt colored and muttered something under his breath, but went back to his chair in the corner, pulling his ball cap low so he could get in a nap.

Over the next couple hours, Kurt talked with Blaine more, bringing up stories about their friends, how the latest Finn-pocalypse had passed. Artie had picked up his computer and repaired it. Mr. Schue had sent his best wishes, as did all of the members of Velocity. When he ran out of things to talk about, he began singing. Song after song until he felt he'd go hoarse.

He had his forehead leaning against the bed, getting through the last chorus of "Blackbird", when he felt a movement. With a jerk, he sat up, his eyes quickly searching out the source of motion. The hand that Kurt wasn't holding was beginning to move, opening and closing slowly.

"Dad, quick, get the nurse, I think Blaine is waking up. Oh and call his folks, again, too, please? I know they don't deserve it, but they are his parents," Kurt called out quickly, his voice high pitched with excitement.

"Oh thank god, yeah, I'll be right back," Burt said, touching Kurt's shoulder as he rushed from the room.

Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand. "Sweetie? Blaine, honey, can you open your eyes? I'm right here. I love you so much, I've missed you. Will you open your eyes and look at me?"

The next couple of minutes were frustrating. The nurse came in to check on Blaine and sure enough, she agreed that it seemed he was coming around. He responded to her poking his feet which was a good sign. Burt came back in, a surprised look on his face.

"They're on their way," he said.

"Wow. Okay, well good, I think. But I swear, if they upset him," Kurt threatened and couldn't finish the thought.

The nurse left to have the doctor paged and Kurt resumed holding Blaine's hand, talking to him. Slowly, Blaine's lashes started fluttering and Kurt swore his heart was pounding in time to those flutters. He was so close.

"Blaine, baby, open your eyes, there you go," Kurt said excitedly, as Blaine's eyes opened and he was once more looking into the golden eyes he loved so much. His eyes looked clear enough as they roamed the room, taking in Kurt and Burt standing nearby. "Oh, Blaine, I love you so much," he said pulling Blaine's hand to his lips. He gasped when the hand was jerked away.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, did I hurt your hand?" Kurt asked, confused, not having seen any bruises or cuts on the hand he'd been holding.

Blaine was reaching for a cup near him. Kurt pulled it over and held the straw so he could take a sip. Blaine sipped for a minute before pulling his head away. Kurt reached for his hand again, only to have it be jerked away.

"Blaine, are you okay? Are you in pain?" Kurt didn't understand what was going on.

"No," Blaine said, his voice gravelly. "Head hurts, but it's fine."

Kurt whispered thanks to Grilled Cheesus, over whatever might be listening, that he was speaking and seemed coherent. Blaine motioned and Kurt brought the water over again.

"You gave us quite a scare, there, kiddo," Burt said, a smile lighting his face. "You're fiancé here dragged himself out of his own bed early just to come sit with you."

Kurt smiled at his dad, then down at Blaine. He felt like he should be glowing, he was so happy to see Blaine awake.

Blaine looked confused and irritable. "Fiancé? What are you talking about?"

Kurt looked at his dad, shocked, then turned back. "Um, don't you remember? The day we crashed, we went for that picnic at Sells Park? You asked me to marry you?" He held up his left hand to show Blaine the ring. "Does this look familiar?" He was desperately hoping this was just confusion due to the coma.

"No, it doesn't. First of all, I have no idea who you are," Blaine said, his expression dark and his tone was like ice.

Kurt's stomach sank and a cold shock went through his system. Amnesia.

Blaine's face twisted with disgust. "And second of all, there's no way in hell I'd be engaged to someone like you. I'm no fag."