A/N So this story is based on a prompt by wynniethepoohlove on tumblr : "forgotten" and is also up on my tumblr which is on my profile.
constructive criticism is very welcome. Enjoy. x
Would also love to have someone beta this, so if you're interested please let me know!
It was half past one when the phone rang, jerking Kurt awake and from beneath fine Egyptian cotton sheets his tousled head emerged, slapping his hand along his bedside table until reaching the loud, vibrating phone. Still half way between dream and reality, he didn't register the dread a late night phone call from an unknown number usually awakens.
" H...Hello" he answered, blearily fighting against the sleep that threatened to overcome him again. Kurt was always a heavy sleeper, and it was almost always impossible to wake him, even when pushed out of bed by Blaine's tossing and turning, he simply curled up on the floor and floated back into his dreams.
"Kurt Hummel? This is Dr. Ann Vermont from Saint Christians Hospital. I'm afraid I have some news regarding Blaine Anderson, you are recorded as his next of kin, correct?"
Suddenly Kurt was wide awake. What? Blaine? No, Blaine was on his way home from visiting his mom in the Hamptons, he had left late so Kurt was expecting him to slide into bed in the early hours of the morning and wake up to a happy if exhausted boyfriend. He certainly wasn't expecting a call from a hospital...
" Yes, I'm the next of kin. What's this about? Is Blaine okay?" He tried, he tried so very hard to stop the hysteria that bubbled up at the thought of Blaine in Hospital. Car crashes, blood and screams of pain reverberated around his mind. No, no, no, no, no. Not Blaine, not his Blaine.
"I know that this might be hard to hear but Blaine has been in a car accident..."
Kurt sat in a stupor . Barely registering the voice on the end of the phone, he only managed to catch a few words.
Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, oh god no Blaine.
No, please, Blaine, Blaine
Swelling in his brain
No, no, no, no.
He hung up the phone after assuring the doctor he would be in right away and threw on a jumper over one of Blaine's old t-shirts he wore to bed that night, it still smelt of him; of cologne, the sweet fruity hair conditioner he used and the woodsy, manly smell that was just Blaine. He tightened the drawstring of his pyjama pants, and paused to allow the only sane part of his brain left to remember the essentials: keys, wallet, phone, okay, GO.
The air was thick with the smell of disinfectant and hurried voices as Kurt entered the ICU, catching a glimpse of his reflection in a window. His hair fell flat and damp against his forehead, his eyes wide, and his skin an unearthly pale as he half ran to the nurses' station, asking for Blaine and waiting while they fetched the doctor.
"Mr. Hummel?" Kurt turned around to see a tall, immaculately dressed woman with bronze skin, holding what appeared to be Blaine's chart in her hand. "I'm Dr. Vermont, we spoke on the phone."
Yes, how is he?" Is he okay? What happened?"
"There was an accident; a truck ran a red light collided with Blaine's car. He sustained severe head injuries, a dislocated hip, three broken ribs and we are monitoring him for possible internal bleeding. He's still in surgery to relieve bleeding in his brain which is causing it to swell, but you need to prepare yourself, there is a substantial risk that the bleeding in his brain has already done too much damage. You need to prepare yourself for the possibility of brain damage." Kurt was numb, his heart was pounding and aching and oh god no. "If you have any more questions, get the nurse to page me. Blaine should be out of surgery soon."
Blaine. Brain damage.
Blaine could have brain damage?
No, not his Blaine. Not the same Blaine that eats nutella on toast in bed, leaving crumbs scattered everywhere. Not the same Blaine that just got signed up with a recording contract after years of playing in seedy pubs and cafes. Not the same Blaine that brings him white lilies when he's having a bad day and kisses him goodbye before work. Kurt moved, without thinking, to the row of white, hospital chairs, curled his legs underneath him and buried his head in his hands.
He could still remember the day they moved in together...
"Be careful with that, it's fragile!" Kurt remarked to one of the three burly removalists that were currently moving boxes and furniture into their new apartment as he picked up an ancient looking mannequin with a look of disdain. Kurt turned to Blaine, who was staring at their small apartment building, an unrecognisable look on his face. After Blaine's father got sick, two years ago, money had been tight. The Anderson's though well off, could not afford the onslaught of medical bills as well as supporting Blaine and putting his sister, Abigail, through college. So they were on their own. Blaine quickly put himself out there and soon had gigs lined up at a few local pubs, and Kurt managed to land himself a job working for one of New York's upcoming designers, Adriano Zumagi, the hours were long and the work was meaningless, but it was a foot in the door.
"Hey, what are you thinking?" he said softly, linking their hands and smiling when Blaine squeezed his hand. There was a small insecure part of Kurt's mind that although often squashed back and forgotten about, voiced insecurities about their relationship. Things had been difficult for them, they had gone through what most straight couples can't even imagine. They survived Lima, Ohio and homophobic Neanderthals who threatened their love and their lives. They made it through high school and separate colleges and now they were ready to start their lives together, but there was still a small part of Kurt that wondered if Blaine wanted this as much as he did, if he had doubts about moving in together.
"I'm thinking..." Blaine started; smiling at Kurt and fixing a small strand of hair that escaped his coiffed hair, letting his hand linger by his temple. "I'm thinking that this apartment, though small and, if I'm honest, a little bit smelly-"
"-It's the damp, we can fix that"
" – is exactly where I want to be in life. With you." Blaine finished with a cheesy smile and a wink that made Kurt's eyes roll. And though he would never admit it, all doubts about moving in with Blaine had vanished with one sentence.
"You are the king of cheesy, you know that? The king" Kurt remarked
"Mista Hummel? Mista Anderson? We're done here," said the second burly removalist interrupted
Okay, thank you, err... Mark," Blaine replied, pausing to look at his nametag and as Mark walked moved behind Kurt and whispered hotly in his ear, "You know what else I'm the king of?"
"Oh, god, if you are about to say, 'the bedroom' you are so not getting any tonight," Kurt laughed, gently pushing Blaine back and moving to walk into their new apartment.
"Aw, come on baby, you love the cheese." He said, running after Kurt, grabbing his waist and pushing the door shut behind them. The sudden contact between them pushed all joking aside as heat radiated between them. Kurt turned around to face him, his curls, which had long been freed of the gel he relied on in high school, were damp around his face from helping the removalists, really only managing to get under foot like an excitable little puppy.
"I love you," Kurt replied, wrapping his arms around his neck, playing with the curls at the base of his neck.
"You love me. I am cheesy, ergo, you love the cheese!" Blaine exclaimed, like he had just won some sort of victory, grinning at Kurt's face which was inches from his own. Kurt shook his head but lent in a placed a small kiss on his lips.
"shhh... Less talking, more kissing," he said as he connected their hips and pushed Blaine up against the door. Blaine laughed but placed three small kisses on Kurt's lips before cupping his face and pulling him in for a heated kiss.
"I love you too, you know?" Blaine said breathlessly, breaking away from Kurt who moaned at the loss of contact.
"- Mr. Hummel? Mr Hummel?" Kurt was awakened from his day dream with a jolt, Blaine wasn't here, Blaine was still injured, still in hospital. Was he still alive?
"Yes?" He replied to Dr. Vermont.
"Blaine's out of surgery, it went well but we won't know the full effects of the damage until he wakes up."