Cooper and Blaine pulled up to the Hummel residence the next morning.  They were picking up Kurt on their way to the hospital to visit Quinn.  Blaine was fidgeting nervously as he strode over to the front door to get Kurt.  He loved Kurt more than anything, but having Kurt and Cooper together seemed incredibly risky to Blaine.  He was already walking on thin ice with Kurt.  He didn’t want anything to make things even worse.

Kurt opened the door holding a small bouquet of flowers and a basket filled with assorted magazines.  He was wearing black skinny jeans and a navy blue button up.  Blaine smiled when he noticed the small silver band around his finger. 

“Hey,” Blaine greeted, “You look great.  Incredible.”

“Thanks,” Kurt smiled, “These are for Quinn.  I figured she’s probably bored out of her mind in that hospital room and could use something to do.”

He gestured toward the basket of magazines.

“That’s so thoughtful,” Blaine complimented.  He was very obviously trying to compensate for the other night through flattery.

Kurt could easily see through Blaine’s tactics.  He merely smirked and rolled his eyes at him as they made their way to the car.

Cooper smiled at them as they climbed into the back seat.

“Good to see you again, Kurt” Cooper said as he pulled back onto the road, “I’m sorry if we got off to a rough start yesterday.  Also, it’s completely my fault about Blaine missing your dinner last night-“

“That’s all in the past now.  And it’s good to see you too,” Kurt replied, “This is a nice car you have.  It’s a ’67 Impala, right?”

“Why, yes it is!” Cooper grinned, obviously impressed, “Car junkie?”

“My dad is a mechanic,” Kurt explained.

“Interesting.  So, Kurt, how do you know Quinn?”

“Blaine and I are in glee club with her.”

“Whoa, so let me get this straight,” Cooper said seriously, “Not only are you good looking and know about cars, but you can sing too?  Let me tell you something, Kurt.  You are way out of my brother’s league.”

Kurt smiled as a blush crawled up his cheeks while Blaine groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“Can you just shut up and drive?” Blaine pleaded.

*

After visiting the information desk at the hospital, they were directed to room 404A where Quinn was recovering.  The door was partially ajar when they arrived, but Kurt knocked cautiously before poking his head in, just to be safe.

Quinn was sitting up in the bed wearing a hospital gown and gazing disinterestedly at the television, which appeared to be showing a rerun of one of the dozen Real Housewives reality shows.

Her expression brightened slightly when she saw Kurt and Blaine at the door.

“Hey, guys,” she smiled.

“Hi, Quinn,” Blaine replied, “Britt and Santana told the glee club that you’re allowed to have visitors now.  So, we thought we’d come see how you were doing.”

“Yeah, come in,” Quinn encouraged, “Puck and Artie stopped by yesterday and you just missed Rachel.”

The boys entered the room and took the seats next to Quinn’s bed as Cooper followed cautiously.  Quinn’s eyes scrunched in confusion as she noticed the third person in the group.

“Cooper Anderson.  Blaine’s brother,” he explained, “I heard about what happened.  I’m so sorry.”

“Quinn Fabray,” she replied, not acknowledging the second half of Cooper’s statement.

“We brought some gifts!” Kurt said enthusiastically, breaking the tension, “Some flowers, to liven up this disgraceful peach-colored room.  And I brought you all the essentials: Vogue, Cosmo, Glamour, and InStyle.”

“Thanks, Kurt,” Quinn laughed as she accepted the gift basket, “I could definitely use these.  Daytime soaps and reality shows are starting to lose their appeal.”

“So, how are you feeling?” Blaine interjected.

Quinn’s smiled faded slightly.  She ran a hand through her hair self-consciously and looked down at the hospital gown she was wearing as if she had suddenly remembered where she was and why.

“Better than the first few days,” she said quietly, “Just hoping for the best really.  My doctors haven’t ruled out a full recovery yet.”

“That’s great,” Blaine said, “I mean –you know.  It could be worse….”

Blaine mentally slapped himself.  It was anything but great that Quinn was currently bound to a hospital bed instead of at school preparing for Nationals with the rest of them.

Quinn simply nodded.

“So, the accident,” Cooper jumped in, “How did that go exactly?”

Blaine gaped at his brother.  What happened to having tact, Cooper?!

“Um, well,” Quinn started, “I was driving back on Route 81 and then…. we just crashed.  I don’t remember much after that.”

“That’s a little weird, isn’t it?” Cooper questioned, “For the other car to have appeared out of nowhere.”

“I guess.  I probably just wasn’t paying enough attention to where I was going,” Quinn said as he stared down at her lap and thumbed the end of her gown.

“No way, Quinn,” Kurt said, “The police report said that other car definitely hit into you.  Not the other way around.”

Quinn was still frowning as she whispered, “I was going to go to Yale….”

Her eyes glistened as she sniffled and turned away from the three of them.

“Don’t say that,” Kurt soothed, “You just said before that you could make a full recovery.  And even if you don’t you can definitely still go to Yale.  Just stay optimistic.”

Quinn continued to sniffle, but turned back towards them.

“The person that did this to you isn’t going to get away with it,” Blaine said fiercely as he reached for her hand, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Blaine,” Quinn smiled softly, “That’s sweet, but it was a hit and run.  The other person got away.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” he repeated.

*

“What was that!” Blaine yelled at Cooper as they were piling back into the Impala.

“What?” Cooper asked, alarmed.

“You call that tact?” Blaine said disbelievingly, “You could have been a little more gentle with the way you brought up the accident instead of just throwing it in her face!  You just met her.”

“Jeez, I’m sorry, alright,” Cooper said, “I just don’t see the point of beating around the bush.  We need information.”

“Information?” Kurt asked, “For what?”

The brothers sat silently for a few moments as they pulled on to Route 81 to head back to Kurt’s house.  In Blaine’s frustration, he had momentarily forgotten that Kurt didn’t know about the case.

“My brother is a cop,” Blaine invented, “For a town a couple counties over.  They’re doing an investigation.”

“Right,” Cooper agreed.

“So, shouldn’t you have identified yourself and shown your badge before you started questioning her?” Kurt inquired.

“Umm….” Cooper stalled, “That is absolutely correct, Kurt!  I left my badge in the glove compartment.  I guess I can’t use anything she said in the investigation.  Good work.  I’m going to recommend you for the force!”

Kurt looked at the two of them dubiously.  Blaine palms were sweating and his face had gone pale.  It was something like this that he had been afraid of.  Cooper had been able to fake an identity and backstory to dozens of people before, but his boyfriend wasn’t an idiot.  Kurt was incredibly perceptive and could tell when something was up.

Kurt reached into the glove compartment and produced a badge that read:

Randall Myers

Officer

Westerville Police Department

“Randall?” Kurt questioned, “I thought your name was Cooper.”

“Cooper is his middle name!” Blaine said hastily, taking a sigh of relief that out of the dozens of fake IDs in that compartment (CIA, FBI, US Wildlife Service, Homeland Security, etc.), Kurt had at least managed to pull out the police badge.

“What about Myers?” Kurt asked narrowing his eyes at Blaine.

“That’s our mother’s maiden name,” Cooper supplied, “Who wants to listen to some music?”

Cooper turned the volume dial up on the stereo, only to have it immediately turned by down by Kurt, who at this point was leaned over from the back seat so that he was level with Cooper and Blaine in the front.

“Why is a police officer for another county doing an investigation for a closed hit and run case in Lima?”

The brothers were silent.  Kurt turned toward Blaine with a fierce look in his eyes.

“Do you actually expect me to go along with this?” Kurt screeched at him, “You need to tell me what’s going on Blaine!”

“Whoa!” Cooper screamed suddenly.

The car was abruptly swerving as Cooper nearly hit an oncoming car.

“Where did that come from?” Kurt asked frantically, “We were the only ones on the road a second ago!”

Once again, as Blaine looked out the back window he could see the same car gaining on them that had been chasing him the previous night.  Now that it was daytime he could make out more of the car’s design.  It was a minivan with a sky blue exterior.  He had been expecting something a bit more menacing looking.

“Oh no,” he groaned.  How could this be happening to him twice?

“Shoot it, Blaine!” Cooper commanded.

Blaine grabbed the shotgun hidden at the bottom of the compartment.  The minivan was still following them from behind, so Blaine forced the upper half of his body out the window in order to get the proper aim.

He pulled the trigger, but nothing happened.  Then it occurred to him that he had never reloaded the gun after he used it yesterday. 

“Shit!” he yelled, “Coop, I need salt!”

“A little busy!” Cooper called back as he struggled to maneuver the Impala out of the minivan’s path.

Blaine crawled back into the car and rummaged through the glove compartment.  He shuffled through a plethora of fake IDs, four cell phones, a napkin with a woman’s phone number on it, a bottle of holy water, and several used ketchup packets before he was able to find a pouch of rock salt buried at the bottom.

He loaded the gun and stuck his head out the window again.  The minivan knocked the Impala’s bumper, practically causing him to fall out the window.  He quickly regained his balance, aimed, and fired, obliterating the minivan into nothingness.

He pulled himself back into the car and replaced the shotgun in the glove compartment. 

“You okay?” he asked Cooper as they pulled over to the side of the road. 

“Yeah,” Cooper replied, “Not sure if I can say the same for him though.”

Cooper nodded in the direction of the back seat.

Blaine whipped around and was met by the sight of a panic stricken Kurt.  His eyes were wide, his knuckles were white from gripping the back seat, and his mouth was agape.  He looked at Blaine with fear clearly etched in his face.

“Kurt,” Blaine sighed, “I need to tell you something.”