A/N: This is completely pointless, but it was really fun to write. I don't know why I end up writing these, where someone gets sick or hurt, I guess it's easier for the characters to show emotion when they are put in a situation like that. Someday I'll actually write something long and substantial. Anyways, this is complete fluff, hope you enjoy. Gonna stop talking now.

Disclaimer: Disclaimed! I don't own Glee! If I did, Chris Colfer would be MINE!

Snow had come to Ohio as assuredly as the depths of winter were now upon them, meaning that for some of the boys, their pristine uniforms were never dry. Kurt sometimes wondered whether he had been transferred to an elementary school rather than a high school. Despite the administrations best intentions, mother nature rarely stayed outdoors, especially when it came to the dorms. The amount of pranking intensified, if that was possible, with a readily available supply of material of which the possibilities were virtually endless. Blaine woke up one morning to snow being shoved down his shirt, and Kurt, an early riser, opened his dorm door just in time to see David go pelting by down the hallway, Blaine hot on his heels. Snow balls were forbidden from being thrown during school hours (Wes had already been given detention for throwing what he claimed was a Snow Cube- this didn't fly too well with the Dean, and probably got him a more severe punishment for being smart) but after school, there was nothing administration could do, and they didn't even try.

On a Friday, Kurt's new friends dressed down out of their uniforms and poured outside onto the open courtyard that opened up onto the grounds of the Academy, crazy boy energy pent up from being inside all week, the mountains of homework keeping them indoors and studying as midterms approached. The steely sky had cleared by late afternoon, and the winter sunlight gleamed on every white surface.

Kurt was not partaking in their crazy activities; he was sitting on the veranda, the only dry place in the vicinity due to the permanent tarpaulin overhead; of all things he was reading that mornings newspaper, occasionally glaring with fake chagrin when a snowball flew too intentionally close. Adam, another boy from the Warblers and Blaine's roommate lounged beside him, taking in the weak afternoon sun that gleamed off his sandy-blonde hair, and watched the antics play out before them.

Blaine jogged up, shedding his sweatshirt as he did so.

"Hey Kurt, do you mind holding this?" Kurt looked up at him and smiled.

"Sure." Blaine had already asked them a million times if he didn't want to join in, but relented when he saw that Kurt was quite happy to be a bystander and just watch.

"Thanks," Blaine said and flashed him a grin, taking off again. Kurt absentmindedly dipped his head to the sweatshirt and inhaled its scent, his eyes on Blaine's retreating back as he jogged away. It made him feel slightly dizzy: that distinct smell of Blaine was ten times stronger, centralized in the fabric. It seemed to be emanating from it.

This gesture was not lost on Adam, who grinned at Kurt. Kurt and Blaine's friends were no strangers to the ongoing antics and sexual tension between the two boys, and Kurt was by now as used to their teasing as he would ever be. Kurt narrowed his eyes.

"Shut up," Kurt said. Adam raised both hands silently in a no contest gesture, but they were both grinning slyly.

In the distance, Blaine had now latched on to the trunk of a tree and started to climb for no reason, while Wes and David continued to run in circles, yodeling war cries like ten year old idiots stoned on pure adrenaline. The other boys were still throwing snow at each other, their yells and laughter reverberating over the grounds.

Kurt looked up just as Wes threw a snowball at Blaine, still dangling from his tree. It was almost funny how the only precision he achieved was when he wasn't aiming: the ball of snow made its mark, hitting Blaine squarely in the side of his face, and making him let go of the tree. Due to it's thick branches, there was little snow directly under it to cushion the frozen ground. From twenty feet away, Kurt could have sworn he felt the resonating thud as Blaine hit the hard ground, landing on his back, or maybe it was just his heart pounding with him.

Kurt was up and running before he even knew it himself. He heard David's shout of "Wes, you idiot!" before he had practically skidded onto his knees beside the prone Blaine, for once not caring about the wet dirt and snow soaking into the fabric of his pants as he kneeled on the cold ground. The others appeared a moment later, running up.

"Blaine!" Kurt said. Blaine was gulping like a fish, a strange wheezing noise emanating from him, not moving otherwise. Kurt felt a hand on his shoulder, heard one of the boys surrounding him say, "He's just got the wind knocked out of him."

Adam was now kneeling next to Kurt. "Try to take deep breaths, Blaine. Don't panic, you'll be okay."

Eventually, Blaine got his breath back, though the seconds he could not find air to fill his lungs seemed to stretch out, lasting horribly, tensely long.

Kurt grabbed his upper arm and helped him to sit up, his face still showing an expression of the utmost concern. "I'm so sorry, Blaine," Wes said. Blaine sat up and squeezed his eyes shut, clutching his head.

"Crap," Adam said. "Blaine, did you hit your head?"

"Obviously he hit his head, Adam, that's why he's clutching it in pain."

"Shut up, Wes!" Adam turned back to Blaine. "Blaine, can you look at me?" Blaine opened his eyes, and made eye contact with Adam.

"Where did you hit it?" Adam's gently roving fingers searched Blaine's skull where he clutched it, careful not to touch the spot. Kurt was watching all of this with fear clenching his stomach, his eyes wide, unconsciously still gripping Blaine's arm tightly.

"Yeah, you definitely whacked it all right. Could be concussed."

"I'll be okay."

"You don't know that. I'm going to ask you some questions, ok, Blaine?"

Blaine's eyes, in all of this, were resting on Kurt's. His eyes flicked back to Adam's in agreement.

"Who's the president of the United States?"



"That black guy."


"Barack Obama."

"What's your birthday?"

"October 16, 1993."

"What's his name?" Adam gestured to Kurt. Blaine's eyes found Kurt's again, boring into them.


"What happened of historical significance on April 12, 1861?"

"Confederate Army attacked Fort Sumter, signifying the start of the American Civil War."

Adam sat back.

"He seems competent enough, though a complete ass. You should still go to the hospital, Blaine."

Someone ran to tell the Director what had happened, as was protocol, and Kurt and Adam helped Blaine to carefully stand. Wes began apologizing again.

Kurt ran to grab Blaine's sweatshirt and caught up with Adam, falling into stride with him, as they walked towards the parking lot. Wes, David and Blaine were walking up ahead, Blaine still clutching his head. The rest of the boys had gone back to the dorms, their afternoon activities significantly dampened, literally and figuratively. Kurt turned to Adam.

"You were really good back there. I was freaking out."

Adam smiled. "My dad's a doctor, and I'm bound to go down the same path."

"Well, I'm glad you're around these guys," Kurt said humorously.

"Me too. I'm glad there's someone else with common sense around now, too."

They both smiled at each other as they reached David's car.

The ride to the hospital was uneventful. Kurt sat with Blaine and Adam in the back seat, trying to tune out Wes and David's constant talking in the front seat. Blaine's hand, the one that wasn't holding his head had found Kurt's. They got a text from one of the boys back at Dalton, who told them that the Director, Mr. Thompson, had been informed of the incident, told them they were all idiots in so many words, and wanted an update after they got back from the hospital.

The emergency room was packed, due to the ongoing inclement weather, and they had to wait almost 40 minutes before Blaine could go in.

"You are all idiots," Kurt said flatly, as they all sat there in a row.

"We know. Don't you love us?" David said. Blaine was still clutching his head and staring off into space.

"You know, I'm just now remembering..I think I blacked out for like a second, and I had the weirdest hallucination.."

"Did you see into the future?"

"Do I pass my midterms?"

"Do I ever meet Scarlett Johansson on a foggy street corner, fall madly in love and get married and have lots of babies?"

"Scarlett Johansson's already married, David."

"A man can dream!"

"No..Julie Andrews and Mick Jagger were singing a duet to the tune of Mary Had A Little Lamb, and there was a lot of Candy Corn for some reason.."

"Jeez, Blaine, of all the things you could have hallucinated."

At that moment, Blaine was called in. Kurt sighed and crossed his arms, as Blaine left.

"Don't worry, Kurt. He can't mess up that head of his any more than it already is, and Blaine's naturally like that. The dreamy, hopeless romantic."

Blaine walked out into the waiting area, and his entourage stood up expectantly.

"No wheelchair?" Wes asked.

"The verdict is mild concussion. I have to rest and be monitored for the next 24 hours."

"Shouldn't you go home, Blaine?" Kurt said worriedly.

"Ugh, that is the last place I'd want to be. Drive all the way out there and have them hovering over me..I just want to go back to my dorm, and go to sleep forever."

"Isn't that the point of monitoring? To make sure you don't sleep forever?"

"We'll monitor you, Blaine."

"We wouldn't want you to slip into a coma and die."

"Who would sing lead?"

"Besides, I owe you after framing you for the snow freezer."

"We did help him chip it out, though-" Wes muttered.

"The doctor said I needed to be watched by someone responsible. I feel like I'm in such capable hands, here" Blaine said sarcastically.

"Kurt and Adam are responsible. Kurt would love to give you mouth to mouth if your heart ever stopped bea-" David was cut off by a well placed elbow to his stomach.

The rest of the afternoon consisted of all of them hovering around him, as if they expected him to drop down dead at any moment, and Blaine was the only one who found it amusing.

"Guys, guys," he said in a hushed voice, his eyes glinting. "There is a box in that room," he gestured to the bathroom. "A large ceramic tiled box. Water comes into the box. I am going to go into the box, and stand in the water. If you hear a loud thud, it means I have passed out and died. K?"

While the sound of the shower ran, Kurt worked out a monitoring schedule for the night with the four of them, taking it in two hour shifts. They didn't really need all four of them to do it, Adam and Kurt had volunteered, but Wes felt like he should contribute since he was the one who threw the freaking snowball in the first place, and then David felt left out, too. Blaine emerged from the bathroom wearing dark pajama pants and a t shirt, the smell of the shower wafting behind him, and flopped onto his bed.

"How are you feeling?" All four of them chorused. Blaine grimaced at all of them. "Just fine, thanks." He reached over for the bottle on his night table and popped two more Ibuprofen.

At first, Blaine just tried to stay awake, until Kurt exasperatingly told him he should at least try to rest some, they'd wake him up, which they did, every hour, on the hour.

1 AM:

"Dead yet?"

Blaine moaned and rolled away from David's grating voice in his ear. "Come on, Blaine. I know it sucks. I need to see your eyes." Blaine rolled back over and glared at him.

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired and irritated, just like I was an hour ago."

3 AM:

Kurt gently shook Blaine, hating himself for doing so.

"Blaine?" he whispered. Blaine moaned and rolled towards him.

"How's your head?"


"Are you just saying that?"


"I'm so sorry. Can I get you anything?" Blaine felt Kurt grip his arm comfortingly through the blankets.

"Uninterrupted sleep."

"Sorry, Blaine. It's just for one night."

Blaine closed his eyes again, and felt Kurt stand to leave to go wake Wes, whose turn it was to take over. Kurt stopped when he felt Blaine's hand grab onto his own, and he turned back. Blaine still had his eyes closed. Kurt had never seen him sleep before until tonight, and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to crawl under the covers with him and stay there forever. Instead, he gave Blaine's hand a squeeze and left to wake Wes, and then returned to his now cold bed.

Kurt ended up with the last shift in the morning, watching the sun come up, and watching Blaine sleep for his allotted hour. He had just uncurled his legs from where he had been balled up in his chair, and stood to walk to the electric tea kettle that they had stolen from the downstairs commons for the night, when Blaine rolled over, slowly waking up. Adam was snoring lightly in his bed across the room.

"Hi," Kurt said lamely. Blaine sat up slightly, blinking.

"Hi, yourself," Blaine said. He looked absolutely adorable in the morning when he was sleepy, and Kurt couldn't help but notice this. It made his stomach swoop, something that he was quite used to when he was around Blaine. Blaine's hazel eyes were roving Kurt's face. "You look concerned." He said this dryly, and Kurt ignored his joking, answering seriously.

"Of course I'm concerned! We all were!" Kurt sank onto the edge of Blaine's bed. "How's your head?"

"It hurts, truthfully. Where's Wes? I want to stuff snow down his throat."

'I don't think it was anyone's fault, really." Kurt said.

"I know. I usually want to stuff snow down Wes' throat, though. Don't deny me the opportunity." Kurt smiled. Blaine sighed. "What an interesting weekend! I have to say, it definitely takes it's place on our List of Interesting Weekends. Blaine falls out of tree."

"Of which there are many, I'm sure. Interesting weekends, I mean."

"You have no idea. I'd say this one takes it's place between Pumpkin Catapult Breaks Mr. Sorrenson's Window, and David Knocks Himself Unconscious with Croquet Mallet. What time is it anyways?"

"Seven. I was just about to wake you."

"Oh, god. That early? I'm going back to sleep. I suggest you do the same." He flopped back down. Kurt smiled. "You must be programmed to wake up on the hour, now."

"Let's hope not."

Blaine eyed him and smiled charmingly. "Your hair looks adorable, by the way."

Kurt went red and pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up lightning quick over his mussed sleep hair. "I hate you. I'm going back to bed."

Kurt walked out of Blaine's dorm to the sound of his laughter, forgetting that he had wanted to make tea. He just heard Blaine call his name when he reached the door and he stopped and turned. Blaine's eyes were dancing with amusement, but his face was serious.

"Thank you, Kurt."

Kurt dipped his head in acknowledgment and exited, smiling a little. He walked back to his dorm and crawled into his bed and lay there thinking. Despite being tired, he didn't go back to sleep for a long time.

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