“Kurt! Kurt, are you alright?” Loud voices.
“Kurt, baby. Can you hear me?” Blaine.
Kurt squints his eyes open and immediately snaps them shut again. The sun is bright, shining directly in his eyes.
Kurt opens his eyes again and tries to sit up; tries to them he’s fine and they need to chill. But strong hands are pushing him back down and a jumble of voices are still buzzing in his ears. Clustered around and looking down at him is the entire Cheerios team, Coach Sylvester and half the football team, including Blaine.
It had been a normal Wednesday afternoon. The Cheerios and the football team were each practicing on the divided spacious field. Kurt had been on the top of the pyramid, ready to strike his pose, when he caught sight of something that set his cheeks blazing, and him flying toward the hard ground below.
Blaine’s ass. Damn it looked good.
“Kurt! Kurt please, answer us.”
“Guys, really I’m fine. Blaine, help me up.” He says, once again trying – and succeeding – in sitting up.
Blaine awkwardly shuffles forward through the small crowd, shoulder pads bumping Santana and Brittany as he passes though.
“Is your head okay, Porcelain?” Sue interjects. “Do you feel faint?
“My head is fine, guys. Seriously. Blaine, please?” Kurt replies, getting a little impatient.
“Kurt,” Blaine asks, stepping to stand in between Kurt’s sprawled legs. “I’m going to lift you up, okay? On the count of three. One…two…three.”
With a great heave, Blaine has them both standing, but as soon as Kurt applies pressure to his right foot, he yelps in pain. Suddenly all around him is a mass chaos of frantic whispering and uselessly fluttering hands.
Kurt takes a couple of deep, calming breaths and then speaks.
“My ankle…I think it’s broke.”
“Do you need an ambulance?” asks Sue.
“Are you gonna die?” asks Brittany, and Kurt can’t help but chuckle at his ditzy friend.
“No, no ambulance. I think I can just drive to the ER.”
“Kurt, there is no way you’re driving yourself to the Emergency Room. I’ll take you.” Blaine interjects.
“But you have practice.”
“I’m sure Coach won’t mind. I’ll go check real quick.”
“Already on it.” Sue replies, turning to find Coach Beiste.
“I need my bag,” Kurt says. “Brittany? Will you get it for me?” He asks, gesturing to where it rests over by the bleachers. She turns and jogs away, pony-tail flipping behind her.
“Can you walk, Kurt? Or should I carry you?” Blaine asks as Brittany returns and helps Blaine swing the bag over his shoulder.
“Um…carry me?” Kurt asks shyly.
“Of course, babe.” Blaine says, leaning over and pressing a light kiss to Kurt’s forehead.
After a few awkward seconds, and the help of some of the girls, Blaine is making his way to Kurt’s Navigator, Kurt tucked safely in his arms. They don’t talk as they walk, but the silence isn’t tense or awkward.
When the reach the vehicle Kurt speaks.
“You can put me down and I can stand. So long as I don’t use my right foot, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” Blaine asks nervously. “Kurt, I don’t want you getting hurt worse.”
“Blaine, I am honestly fine. Besides, you have my bag and my keys are in there. You can’t get them out if you’re still holding me.”
“Alright.” Blaine agrees, setting Kurt gently on the pavement. He quickly unzips Kurt’s red practice bag and digs around until he finds Kurt’s keys. He pulls them out and presses the ‘unlock’ button on the key ring. Then he opens the back passenger door and tosses Kurt’s bag and his shoulder pads inside. He then swoops Kurt back up into his arms and opens the front passenger door. He gently and deftly slides Kurt into the seat, careful not to bump his foot, and leans over to buckle his seat belt, stopping to kiss Kurt once on the mouth.
Once he’s settled into the driver’s seat and the pair are headed toward Lima Hospital, Blaine hands Kurt his phone.
“You need to call your dad or Carole and let them know. I’m sure Finn knows and has told them by now, but I think it best that you tell him too, let him know you’re fine yourself.” Kurt nodded and took Blaine’s cell phone, dialing his father’s number. It rang a couple of times and then Burt’s gruff voice spoke.
“Kurt? Are you okay? Finn said you had an accident. Where are you?”
“Dad, calm down, I’m fine. Blaine is driving me to the ER. It’s just my ankle. I fell and landed wrong. Trust me dad, I’m fine. Really. No need to get worked up.” Kurt assured.
“Okay kid. Carole’s at work, but I’m gonna be you there, okay kid?”
“Yes dad. See you soon.”
Kurt hung up and returned Blaine’s phone.
“He said he’d meet us there in a few.”
“Alright.” Blaine said, reaching over and grabbing Kurt’s hand. “How’s your ankle?”
“Been better, but really, it’s not that bad. Only hurts when I put pressure on it.”
“Alright, well, we’ll be there in a few,” Blaine said, giving Kurt’s hand a gentle squeeze.
The next few moments were of a comfortable silence despite the current situation. When the pair reached the hospital, Blaine immediately got out and jogged around to open Kurt’s door. He helped him carefully slide out and stand on his good foot. He slung Kurt’s right arm over his shoulder, his left arm going to wind around Kurt’s waist. They then began the slow, awkward journey to Emergency Room entrance.
Once they were successfully through the doors, Blaine helped ease Kurt into one of the cold, hard, plastic chairs, and then walked over to the desk.
“Excuse me, ma’am?” Blaine said, gaining the plump station nurse’s attention. “My boyfriend, Kurt,” – he inclined his head to where Kurt was seated – “he’s broken his ankle.”
“Boyfriend, eh?” She replied in a rather harsh tone, clucking her tongue disapprovingly. Blaine forced himself not to roll his eyes and make a lewd comment regarding her obvious homophobia. He did allow himself a small, frustrated sigh.
“Yes, ma’am. Could we please get some medical attention?”
“Give me a minute, will ya kid?” She snaps, leaning over to press a button situated on the wall.
Blaine says nothing else and instead walks the short distance back over to Kurt. He sits down in the seat next to him, and groans as he leans his head back against the wall. Man these chairs are uncomfortable.
“She give you a hard time?” Kurt asks a few moments later.
“Yeah, homophobe’s got a freaking stick up her ass.” Blaine grumbles.
Kurt giggles in response. “Shh, Blaine! She probably heard you!” Although a glance in her direction doesn’t exactly prove that.
“Oh well. Bitch needs to hear it.” Kurt just ‘tuts’ in response, fighting to keep the grin off his face.
The two engage in small, mindless chit-chat for a while before Rude-Plump-Nurse-Lady calls them over. She’s printed off a hospital bracelet for Kurt and is indicating he stick one of his arms out so she can put it on. They spend the next 10 minutes answering questions and filling out paperwork. Burt arrives five minutes into the process, helping fill in the last few papers.
As soon as all the forms are finished, another nurse appears in the entryway of the ER.
“Kurt Hummel?”
“That’s me,” Kurt replies, grabbing onto Blaine’s shoulder as he hobbles over, Burt trailing not too far behind him.
“Family?” The nurse asks, motioning towards Burt and Blaine.
“Father,” Burt says, pointing to himself. “Boyfriend.” He finishes, pointing to Blaine’s back.
“Alright,” she responds. “If you’ll please follow me. My name is Kathy and I’ll be your ER nurse this afternoon.”
They follow her down a few short sets of hallways past the radiology room and various other doors. Kurt wrinkles his nose at the sterile, almost sickening scent of the hospital. He hates hospitals with a passion. They hold nothing but unpleasant memories for him.
They finally manage to make it to one of the small ER holding rooms, and Blaine helps Kurt to lay gently on the small gurney-like bed. Kurt scoots around, trying to get comfortable without jostling his foot too much. Blaine takes the small swivel-rolling seat from the sink, and Burt sets himself in the small, uncomfortable chair in the corner.
“So it’s your ankle or your foot?” Kathy asks, and writes down Kurt’s ‘ankle’ on her large stack of papers attached to a clipboard.
Kathy then exist the room, and returns shortly after wheeling a small cart over to the bed. In a flurry of motion, she begins all sorts of hospital procedures. She takes his blood pressure – the fancy, electronic blood pressure gauge like a Boa Constrictor around his right arm – temperature (a healthy 98.5), and checks his heartbeat in a variety of locations – his back, shoulders, and chest, Kurt taking deep breaths whenever instructed.
After each examination, Kathy scratches the results on her clipboard, and after informing Kurt that he is perfectly healthy, she backs out of the room with her small cart, informing them the doctor will be with them shortly.
Hospitals – and even more appalling, ERs – are notoriously slow. The threesome sit in an awkward, almost tense silence an entire 45 minutes before the doctor files into the room, banging the door shut loudly behind him.
“Sorry for the wait, guys. Heart attack patient in room 3B. How are we all doing today? I’m Doctor Reed, by the way.” He says, stepping forward to shake Burt, Kurt, and Blaine’s hands.
“Fine.” All three reply, nerves on end, and patience running thin.
“So, what seems to be the problem?” he asks, looking at Kurt.
“Didn’t you read the papers Nurse Kathy filled out? Aren’t you like, supposed to do that or something?” Kurt snaps, his famous bitch-glare firmly in place.
“Kurt, cool it,” Burt gently reprimands from his seat in the corner.
Doctor Reed chuckles. “Nurse Kathy’s descriptions were very vague and difficult to decipher. All I was able to gather was ‘ankle or foot injury’.”
Kurt calms a little and when he speaks, his voice is barely more than a hoarse whisper. “Yes, my right ankle. I’m pretty sure.”
“Would you mind telling me how you received the injury?” Reed asks, eyes roaming over Kurt’s Cheerio uniform.
“Cheer practice. I feel off the top of the pyramid.” There’s an air of defensiveness in his tone, as if daring Reed to make a jab at him being a male cheerleader. Thankfully, no such comment is made.
“Do you know approximately how far you fell? At what angle did you land on your ankle?”
“I don’t know…maybe about 10 feet? Give or take a foot or two? And like this,” he says, indicating with his left foot the angle at which his right was injured.
Reed ‘hmms’, and ‘ahhs’ as he records this information on his own clipboard.
“Do you know what caused you to fall? Could it have been caused by a previous, not-completely-healed injury to either leg, foot, or ankle?”
Kurt’s cheeks flush a delicate pink as he remembers exactly what caused him to topple to the ground. But of course he can’t tell the doctor that. Especially not with his father and Blaine himself sitting a few feet away.
“I think I saw something that distracted me. I honestly don’t know.” That was pretty accurate. No need for specifics.
“Alright Kurt, if you could just lie back and get as comfortable as possible, I’m going to examine your foot, alright?”
“Sure thing,” Kurt said, scooting back even farther until his head hit the hard, paper-covered pillow.
The next few minutes are filled with pokes and prods from Doctor Reed and occasional whimpers and groans of discomfort from Kurt.
He is eventually taken to have an X-Ray where they find that his ankle is in fact, broken – in two places.
They cast him up, give him crutches and a few more papers to fill out and sign, and within two hours from their time of arrival, they’re dismissed.
As the three exit the halls and re-enter the reception area, Blaine pauses to look over his shoulder and flash the rude receptionist an icy glare. Kurt has to muffle his laughter in Blaine’s shoulder.
Burt chances them a curious glance, but asks no questions, for which the couple are thankful - no need to get him worked up, especially with his heart.
When they reach the parking lot, Blaine and Kurt head for Kurt’s Navigator – that’s where both his and Blaine’s possessions are. Besides, Blaine doesn’t even have his own vehicle, therefore, no transportation.
Burt and Blaine help situate Kurt in the passenger seat, tossing his crutches in the back before Burt stalks off to his own truck.
Blaine climbs into the driver’s seat and they depart to Kurt’s house, laughing about the receptionist the whole way there.
When they arrive, Burt is already there, car parked in the garage along with Carol’s. They pull up next to Finn’s small beater. Burt walks over and opens the door to the backseat, grabbing Blaine and Kurt’s belongings while Blaine helps Kurt out of the front. He grabs the crutches from Burt, and hands them to Kurt, then helps him up the driveway. Burt follows behind with their bags.
When they enter the house, the smell of cooking issues from the kitchen, hitting them full-force in the face. It smells wonderful. Burt sets the bags in the entryway, and follows Kurt and Blaine into the kitchen. Burt had called Carol immediately after he received the news, so she already knew. As soon as she got off work, she dashed home and began preparing all of Kurt’s favorite dishes.
Kurt smiled fondly at his step-mother when she gave him (and Blaine) a hug, and then the couple departed to go to Kurt’s bedroom, Burt staying behind to inform Carole of all the missing details.
When they reached Kurt’s bedroom door though, they were faced with the first problem since the incident. Stairs. Leading down to Kurt’s basement bedroom were at least 20 stairs.
Kurt glanced over at the anxious expression on Blaine’s face and was quick to reassure him. “I have an idea. Just help me. I’ll tell you what to do.”
After Kurt explained his plan – Blaine supporting his waist, while he used his crutches - they took each stair slowly one at a time before they finally reached the bottom.
“Ugh. I feel so gross. All sweaty and hospital-y. And the worst part is, I can’t even take a shower. Not without a shit load of extra effort. I’d do it now, but that’s way too exhausting.” Blaine laughed at the adorable look on his face.
“Well, you can at least change out of your uniform. I’m sure Carole wouldn’t mind quickly washing it tonight.” Blaine said, gesturing to the sweaty, grass-stained outfit Kurt sported.
“I suppose.” Kurt replied, carefully moving over to his closet and rummaging around for a loose fitting t-shirt and sweat pants. “Can you help me change, please?” he asks, attractive blush coloring his cheeks.
“Of course,” Blaine answers, walking over and helping Kurt ease down into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. But not before kissing him chastely.
Together, the pair make way of Kurt’s uniform top and bottoms, Blaine helping him to slip into the cool, clean sweats. Once he’s dressed, Blaine realizes he’s still in his own practice gear.
Kurt, noticing it at the same time, chuckles before gesturing to the drawer in his dresser where Blaine always keeps a set of pajamas. Smiling, he walks over and grabs them, walking into Kurt’s en-suite bathroom and changing, freshening up a bit as well.
When he returns, he helps Kurt to lay back on the bed, and he moves to lay next to him, snuggling into his side.
They stay like that for a few before the unmistakable voice of Finn bellows from upstairs, “Dinner!” immediately followed by Carole’s, “We’re taking it down to them! No doubt Blaine’s staying.” The pair shared a small smile; Blaine loved spending dinner at Kurt’s. His parents wouldn’t mind, they were out of town. And even when they were around, it’s not like they actually gave a crap about Blaine’s whereabouts.
A few moments later, Carole and Burt made their way downstairs, arms laden with two trays over-flowing with delicious, steaming food. They helped Kurt to sit up, and situated the trays over both Kurt and Blaine’s laps. With small smiles, and ‘can I get you anything else’ -es, the pair made their way back upstairs, leaving the young couple alone.
The two ate in a comfortable silence, occasionally commented on a particular item. When both teens were finished, Blaine stood and removed the tray from Kurt’s lap, taking it and his own and setting them on Kurt’s desk. He then walked back over to the bed and curl into Kurt’s side once more, arm draped over his chest.
“I’m glad you’re okay.” He whispers into the fabric of Kurt’s shirt. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”
“It’s just my ankle, Blaine. Not my head. I was never in any danger of dying. It’s okay. But I’m glad I’m okay, too.”
He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Blaine’s forehead which, with quick maneuvering on Blaine’s part – became a kiss on the lips. Before things got too heated though, they could hear footsteps making their way downstairs. It was Carole, there to take their trays and ask if they needed anything else. Seeing the close proximity the two were at, she gave a knowing smile, and headed back upstairs, quietly closing Kurt’s bedroom door behind her.
“Wanna put in a movie we won’t watch?” Kurt asked, smiling at the mischievous grin on Blaine’s face.
“You know it, babe.” Blaine replied, quickly kissing Kurt on the mouth before heading over to the rack of movies and picking a random disc.
The rest of the evening was spent with the couple making out, occasionally watching the movie and singing along to their favorite songs, mouthing the practically memorized dialogue and other shameless cuddling.
It was pretty much decided that Blaine was spending the night, and given Kurt’s current situation, Burt could at least convince himself that nothing would happen. So as it was, the two spent the night together, wrapped up in each other’s warm, loving embrace.