[Saturday, 11:11 a.m.]

"You have to think, Kurt!"

[Saturday, 11:13 a.m.]

Kurt is now sitting on the curb, eyes closed, and he's repeating to himself, "What happened?" over and over.

Puck calls Santana, and she picks up on the second ring.

"I need your help."

"I don't care how blue your–"

"San, this isn't about sex. Just–Can you come get me?"

Santana doesn't say anything for a moment, and then she swears, "Fuck. Fine, I'm coming to get you. Where are you?"

He looks around, trying to spot a street sign.

[Saturday, 11:16 a.m.]

"Santana is coming to get us."

Kurt opens his eyes, staring up at Puck from where he's sitting on the curb, "It's why I can't sleep." Puck rolls his eyes to the side, trying to figure out what that means, "It's because I am asleep. Or at least unconscious."

"Stop it, Hummel," Puck kicks a rock through him, "You need to figure out where the fuck you are!"

"I'm trying!" Kurt shouts, and then Puck freaks out.

Because Kurt is just suddenly gone.

[Saturday, 11:17 a.m.]

Kurt takes a gasping breath and opens his eyes. It takes a great deal of effort because he's suddenly in so much pain he can't even think clearly, but he realizes he's back in his body.

He can't open his left eye; his right arm is on fire, and the bone in his shin is obviously broken.

It hurts, but he manages to tilt his head and catches sight of low hanging branches. It sparks an image in his mind, a memory so vivid it consumes his vision.

"Puck," he gurgles, and then his eyes slip closed again.

[Saturday, 11:21 a.m.]

Kurt materializes right in the middle of Santana's tiny car, and he's just tall enough that his head is outside and he can see Puck.

The other boy is pounding his fists against the back cab of his truck, screaming profanities.

Santana stands a few feet away, shouting and obviously feeling helpless, "For fuck's sake, Puck, it's just a fucking deer!"

"Puck!" Kurt screams, and Puck turns toward him.

"You're okay!"

Santana shrieks, "What!" at the same time as Kurt says, "I woke up for a minute."

"Fuck, you scared me."

Kurt smiles briefly.

"Who the fuck are you talking to?"

[Saturday, 11:30 a.m.]

"I should take you to a hospital."

Puck thinks they took too long explaining why Puck was talking to thin air, but he nods sarcastically anyway, "Come on. If we don't find him, you can tell everyone I'm crazy and they'll lock me up."

"You've been seeing Hummel since Tuesday, and you're only now trying to find him?"

"We thought he was dead–Look, can I explain this later, when Kurt isn't–Where did you say you were, Kurt?"

"That's so weird."

"I don't know!" Puck is turned around in the front seat and Kurt sits in the back, "All I remember besides where I'm sitting is that from the road, I could see a big tree, just sitting all alone in the middle of a field."

Puck rattles the words off to Santana, and she glances in the rear-view mirror even though she can't see him.

"I know that tree."

[Saturday, 11:42 a.m.]

Kurt is sprinting across the field before Santana even slows down, and he's pretty sure Puck gets out before she stops.

When he turns the corner, he gasps, putting a hand over his mouth and backing away.

Puck round the corner, panting.

"Shit, Kurt."

[Saturday, 11:44 a.m.]

"I don't want to jar him..." Puck moves around Kurt's body, awkwardly trying to find an angle to pick him up from.

"Maybe we should call 9-11."

"Puck, please... Don't let me die."

"Shut up, Hummel. San, I'm going to pick him up, okay?"

"Don't drop him."

"Oh, god, Puck."

[Saturday, 11:47 a.m.]

"You're gonna be okay, Kurt."

Kurt just keeps crying, turned around in the front of Santana's car to watch his body, because he's wasted three days stalking his dad and goofing around with Puck.

"You'll be okay."

[Saturday, 11: 52 a.m.]

Kurt wakes up again once, while they're driving. It's the scariest minute of Puck's life, because Kurt gurgles and cries in his arms, and the only thing he can make out is "It hurts."

When Kurt's ghost reappears, Puck can't bring himself to look away from the real Kurt, the half-dead boy in his arms.

[Saturday, 12:03 p.m.]

It takes far too long to get to the hospital.

They take Kurt from Puck's arms the moment he steps inside the emergency doors, and Kurt can't help thinking how small his body looks, how hideous his face looks with those huge purple bruises around his eyes.

[Saturday, 12:16 p.m.]

Puck tells Santana everything.

She holds his hands and tells him he's nuts, but he assures her that when Kurt wakes up, he'll tell her exactly what happened.

"Well, it's unlikely that I'll tell her everything, but I'm sure I'll be able to support your story."

[Saturday, 12:24 p.m.]

Kurt wanders into the emergency room and hurries back out, white-faced.

He sits down next to Puck, "That's a lot of blood, Puck."

"Shut up," he hisses. Santana looks up, but seems to realize he's not talking to her, "You'll be fine."

[Saturday, 12:35 p.m.]

About thirty seconds before Burt Hummel crashes through the doors, Kurt vanishes.

Puck stares at the seat that Kurt had been in, vaguely aware that he's crying and Kurt's dad is actually hugging him, thanking him.

[Saturday, 4:57 p.m.]

"Burt Hummel?"

That's it. Puck should have ran, should have got out of here before they told Kurt's dad.

Puck watches him stand, and he's thankful that the two men don't go far enough away that he can't hear them, because when Burt Hummel collapses against the doctor, sobbing, Puck would've continued to think the worst.

But he hears it, the quiet and almost awestruck, "Your kid's a fighter."

Puck grins at the floor while Santana squeezes his hand.

[Saturday, 5:12 p.m.]

His injuries are so extensive that they've put him in a coma so it doesn't hurt while he heals.

Nobody can tell Puck how long it'll be.

[Two Weeks Later. Sunday, 11:00 a.m.]

Puck comes into the hospital room with a bagel for himself and a coffee for Mr. Hummel, who hasn't questioned his almost daily visits, and sits down.

"They're not inducing the coma anymore," Burt takes the lid off the cup and blows across the top of the liquid. Puck watches the ripples. "They think he'll wake up sometime in the next few days."

Puck glances over at Kurt, whose face is still swollen with bruising. Black stitches stand out at the edge of his hairline and the neck brace pushes the skin under his chin up awkwardly, and Puck smiles.

"Can I stay until he does?"

Mr. Hummel smiles into his coffee cup.

[Monday, 4:22 a.m.]

Kurt stays blissfully medicated, unaware that Puck keeps a permanent vigil next to his hospital bed, until Monday morning, when he opens one eye very slowly.

"Nurse!" Burt calls, and both Puck and Finn jolt out of sleep. Burt moves closer and Puck stays at the end of the bed, not willing to intrude on Mr. Hummel's relief, "Hey, kiddo. How you feeling?"

"'m good," Kurt slurs, "Medicine's good."

Burt laughs, brushing Kurt's hair out of his eyes, and then Finn is squeezing his hand even as the nurse bustles in, checking his vitals and telling them he's just fine.

[Monday, 11:37 a.m.]

Kurt waits until Puck is the only one in the room before he starts singing Big Yellow Taxi, very softly and not-wonderfully, if you ask Puck, but it doesn't matter.

Puck just joins in, trying not to cry.

Don't it always seem to go

That you don't know what you got till it's gone?

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