I'll Hold Your Hands, They're Just Like Ice

A continuation from this (Blaine's parents kicked him out on Christmas Eve. Alone and out in the cold Blaine slips and breaks his wrist. A certain Carole Hudson happens to be the nurse on duty that night in the ER.).


Carole placed Blaine's file in the cabinet and pushed the drawer shut with a slam. Leena jumped, spinning around her chair. "Something wrong?" She asked sarcastically, but once she saw the look on Carole's face she stopped. "Is something wrong?" She asked seriously.

Carole turned to her coworker, scrubbing hard at her eyes. "The boy in room 160. He's Kurt's boyfriend."

Leena's eyes widened in horror, gasping loudly. "No!"

Carole nodded, trying hard not to let emotions get the best of her. She thought of elaborating. Explaining to Leena about Blaine's disapproving parents, about his getting kicked out…but she decided to keep it to herself. "I'm gonna go clock out, and then I'm taking him home with me. I put his discharge papers in his file." She gestured to the file cabinet, "See you on Tuesday. Merry Christmas, Leena."

"Merry Christmas, Care." Leena said, waving slightly as she eyed her coworker with a look of concern.

After clocking out Carole paused, thinking of Blaine's clothes. Currently he was wearing a pair of hospital-issued pajama pants and the white under shirt he'd had on. His khaki pants and somehow his sweater too had been soaked and stained from his fall. His nice leather shoes were soggy. The only item of clothing not messed up was his underclothing. He must have been outside for a long time.

Carole didn't even want to think about it.

Before heading to Blaine's room she ran out to the workers' park lot and ran to Kurt's SUV. Take the truck, Burt had insisted, your little tin can won't get you through that snow.

"Thank you, Burt." Carole whispered as she opened the trunk. She grabbed the crate of 'emergency items' that they kept there. Pushing aside the gallon of gas, the flashlight, the water bottles, the ice scraper – "Ah, here we go!" She pulled out the 'Hummel Tire and Lube' hoodie, the extra pair of boots, a hat, gloves, and a blanket. "Little big," She mumbled, looking at the sweatshirt and boots, "But it'll do." Stuffing the items in a plastic bag that also sat in the crate she tossed the blanket towards the front seat, slammed the trunk closed, and ran back into the hospital.

Trotting down the hall she made her way to Blaine's room. Stepping in she paused in the door. He looked just as he had before, but a little more peaceful. She stepped up to the bed, lightly placing the bag of clothes on the foot of the bed. She sat down gently on the edge of the mattress, railings still down. Gingerly she rubbed his back, "Blaine? Sweetie, time to get up." She thought back to the first time he woke up"Mom?" "It's Carole," She added as an afterthought, "Time to go see Kurt."

"Kurt?" Blaine sleepily whispered, not opening his eyes. Carole smiled, heart melting.

"Yes, sweetie, Kurt. But he's at home. You gotta get up first." He hummed quietly, flipping onto his back. He blinked his eyes open and glanced at Carole, eyes unreadable.

"I guess I didn't dream it, then." He whispered, pushing himself up with his good arm. He paused, hand pushed down into the mattress. He glanced at Carole, "Listen, Carole, I-"

"If you're trying to talk your way out of this Blaine I'm gonna get some morphine, knock you out, and drag you home."

Blaine smirked, glancing down at the foot of the bed. "You sure you're not blood related to Kurt?"

Carole smiled, running her hand down his arm. "Jury's still out on that…c'mon now, honey. I've got some stuff for you to wear before we head out."

"Are you sure…are you sure this is ok?" Blaine asked, scooting down to the end of the bed. "I mean, tomorrow is Christmas and you guys-"

"Would love for you to join us." Carole said, voice serious. "Now c'mon, slip into these and we'll head out." She pulled the sweatshirt from the bag, handing it to Blaine. "It's kind of big – it's either Burt's or Finn's – but that's good because then we don't have to cut the sleeve." She pulled out the hat and gloves, placing them on the bed beside him. She placed the boots on the floor by his feet and went to fetch his coat from where it hung on the back of the door.

"Do you uh…do you know where my clothes went?"

"I came in and got them before, honey. They're in the car…along with your prescription." Blaine nodded, an unreadable look on his face. Upon seeing his look she quickly said, "Your clothes were filthy honey. It's like you fell into a swamp." She joked, folding his coat over her arm.

"A gutter." Blaine whispered to himself.

"What, honey?" Carole asked, as she crumpled up the plastic bag and stuffed it in her purse.

"I said a gutter…I, uh, fell into the gutter." Carole stopped, glancing down at Blaine.

He now wore the sweatshirt (which was comically too big for him) and the boots (again, comically too big on him). He looked so small, and not just because of his current outfit. His shoulders were hunched, his head down. It was a simple statement,I fell into the gutter. But something about it…his tone, the story behind it, everything – it was just so sad.

Carole stepped back to the bed, sitting on the edge once again. For what felt like the millionth time and the first time all in one moment she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him close. "Everything's fine now, sweetie. We're gonna go home, eat re-heated lasagna, and when we wake up tomorrow we're going to eat chocolate for breakfast and watch 'Miracle on 34th Street,' ok?"

Blaine laughed softly into her shoulder, pulling back. "It sounds amazing. Much better than stiff conversation, caviar, and campaign with relatives who hate me." He whispered, wiping his nose on the too-long sweatshirt sleeve. "Oh wait, this isn't mine." He said, eyeing the sleeve.

"You can have it, Merry Christmas." Carole tried to joke, despite her breaking heart. Blaine smiled, reaching for the hat.

"Guess we should head out then?" He asked, pulling the hat on and over his eyes. Carole chuckled, rolling the hem up.

"Sure thing, c'mon honey."


Blaine had passed out in the car ride home. Normally it was about 15 minutes but with the snow it was turning out to be closer to half an hour.

As she sat at a red light she pulled out her phone as it vibrated. "Hello?" She answered, voice low.

"Hey honey, you on your way home?" Burt's voice greeted her.

"Yeah, I am. Listen…I…uh…ok, we're going to have a guest with us tonight."

There was a pause, "A guest."

"Yeah. It's…ok, listen, I'll explain when I get home. But…Blaine's with me."

"Blaine? Kurt's Blaine?"

"Kurt's Blaine." She repeated, glancing to the sleeping boy wrapped in the blanket from the trunk.

"What happened? Why's he with you? Is he alright?"

"It's a long story, I promise I'll explain when I get home. Which is now because I'm pulling into the driveway." Without saying goodbye she hit the off button on her phone and turned the car off. Reaching over Carole squeezed Blaine's arm. "Honey, we're ho—here." She said gently, stopping herself from saying home.

Blaine let out a muffled response as Carole tugged at the blanket. "W'here?" He repeated groggily.

"Yes, sweetie, we're here. Now c'mon. It's much warmer inside."

After some coercion she got him awake. With half-lidded eyes, a hat pulled half-over his eyes, a bunchy-looking coat, and sweatshirt sleeves hanging over his hands he looked about five years old, Carole just wanted to wrap him up in the blanket and never let him go.

As she slipped out of the car and around to help Blaine out she led him towards the porch. Glancing to the door she saw Burt standing there, still in his 'Christmas Eve Outfit' that Kurt picked out for him.

As they stepped up to the porch Blaine straightened, pausing in front of Burt. "Hello, sir. I know it's Christmas and that you probably don't want me intruding but I didn't have-"

"Son, stop it. You know you're welcome here. And God, call me Burt. How many times do I have to say it?" Burt said, leading Blaine in and closing the door. Carole could see Burt eyeing Blaine's outfit before glancing to his wife. She mouthed 'I'll explain in a bit.' "What happened to your arm?" Burt asked, eyes widening as Blaine's cast became visible.

"Oh – I – I – uh-"

"I'll explain in a bit. Honey c'mon, I do believe I promised you some re-heated lasagna." Blaine nodded, walking to the kitchen.

"His father?" Burt whispered, rage audible.

Carole shook her head, "Well, at least, not his arm."

"What do you mean 'not his arm'?"

Carole bit her lip, then pulled Burt down and whispered in his ear, "They kicked him out." As soon as the words left her lips she slapped her hand over her husband's mouth, muffling a roar of "What?" "I promise I'll explain once he's asleep, ok? Right now let's just feed him more food than he can stand and make him feel welcome."

Burt nodded, she removed her hand, and the two made their way into the kitchen where Blaine was sitting at the counter, glancing up at their shelf of cookbooks. "So did someone say something about lasagna?" Burt asked, pulling the dish from the oven, "Kurt insisted we keep it warming in the oven for you." He said, glancing to Carole as she pulled out a plate. He swiftly scooped a giant serving onto the plate and handed Blaine a fork. "Eat up." It was an order, not a request.

Without a word Blaine began eating. Neatly at first, displaying the manners his parents undoubtedly instilled in him, but soon his hunger got the best of him and he was scarfing down the whole plate in a matter of moments.

"Are the boys asleep?" Carole asked Burt as the two watched Blaine eat.

"It's only 3 AM. Do you think they're sleeping?" Burt asked jokingly, and Carole smiled. "Finn's upstairs playing his Xbox and Kurt was picking out an outfit for tomorrow last time I checked." Carole nodded, glancing to Blaine.

"Should we tell them who's here?"

The sound of someone walking down the stairs interrupted their conversation, "I don't think we have to."

"Finn, shut up-"

"Kurt stop being dumb-"

"Hey dad, we were wondering-" Kurt's words were cut off as he laid eyes on their visitor. Kurt took in Blaine's appearance of over-sized clothing and ungelled hair as he stuffed himself silly with lasagna. "Blaine?" Blaine stared at Kurt, a look of 'deer in the headlights' caught on his face from the second he'd heard his voice. Carole watched as Kurt's eyes traveled to Blaine's casted-wrist. "What happened to your arm?"

Without a word Blaine dropped his fork onto his empty plate, stood up, and all but threw himself at Kurt. "Blaine?" Kurt asked as Blaine clung hard to him, fisting the back of his shirt. "Baby, what is it?" Kurt whispered, but his question went unanswered as a sob escaped Blaine. Suddenly Kurt was clutching him tight, whispering in his ear and rocking back and forth.

Finn glanced back and forth between the pair and his parents. He pointed at Blaine, a look of confusion on his face. "I'll explain later." Carole mouthed, before speaking out loud to Kurt. "Honey, why don't you take Blaine up to your room, you've probably got some talking to do. He can spend the night in there." Kurt nodded, not glancing at his father in fear he'd reject the idea, before pulling back from Blaine, wrapping an arm tight around his shoulders, and leading the crying teen up to his room.

Finn watched them go, then pointed to them again, not saying a word. "He and his parents got in a fight." Carole explained, "I guess…I guess I can tell you." She bit her lip. "It's not really my story-"

"He can share it later if he wants. Just tell us." Burt said exasperatedly, almost eagerly.

Carole chewed on her lower lip, "Well…ok…I guess his parents…they didn't know about Kurt." Burt and Finn's eyes widened. Before they could say anything disparaging about Blaine, Carole went on. "They had a bad reaction and kicked him out the door – literally. He was out in the cold for hours, he slipped on some ice and broke his wrist – I found him at the hospital."

Finn fell into the seat Blaine had just vacated, eyes wide. He glanced back to where Kurt and Blaine went, opening and closing his mouth. "He—his parents—it's Christmas Eve!" He finally squawked out.

Carole nodded, walking over to Finn and giving him a half hug, "I know, sweetie."

Burt was still staring to where the two had disappeared to, "Maybe I should check on them."

Carole glanced to her husband, "Just give them a while honey. They have a lot to talk about."


When Carole and Burt had glanced in on Kurt and Blaine an hour later Blaine was fast asleep, arms wrapped around Kurt's waist as Kurt toyed with his curls. Both boys' faces were tear stained, and Kurt gave them a watery smile before biding them goodnight.

Now, several hours later, Finn was the one wandering into their room. "Hey…hey guys?" He knocked on the door. Getting some humming and a muffled 'yeah?' in response he made his way in. "I guess that means you're awake?" Finn made his way in and sat on the cushioned chest at the foot of the bed.

"W'awake." Kurt mumbled, starting to sit up. Yawning wide as he asked, "Since when do you wake up before me?"

"Since I never went to sleep." Finn grinned, "I figured I should get in as much Call of Duty as I can before I lose myself in Skyrim."

"How do you know Santa got it for you?" Kurt asked sarcastically.

"Since Santa is my mother and is awful at hiding gifts." Finn shot back, just as sarcastically.

"Y'er mom's Santa?" Blaine mumbled, burying his face into Kurt's stomach. Both Kurt and Finn started laughing as Kurt ran a hand through Blaine's curls.

"You awake, sweetie?"

"Mmm…am now that I know Carole is Santa." Blaine said, blinking his eyes open. He blinked up at Kurt, smiling warmly, "Remind me why I don't always wake up like this."

"Because my dad's got a shot gun." Kurt joked, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on Blaine's nose.

"Guys. Still here."

"Sorry." Blaine grinned, pushing himself up. He paused, glancing at his cast as if suddenly remembering it. "Oh, right." That's why I'm here hung in the air. Kurt gave Blaine a soft smile, pushing his curls to the side off of his forehead.

"Well, uh, why don't we go downstairs? Mom and Burt made coffee." Finn said, to his credit he was only marginally awkward. The two boyfriends got out from under the blankets. Blaine now wore a pair of Kurt's sweatpants with his white undershirt. Kurt handed him his hoodie, helping him get it on.

"Hey dude, can I sign that?" Finn asked eagerly as soon as he laid his eyes on the plaster. Blaine laughed, glancing at the thing encasing his arm.

"If you want, but I think Kurt get first dibs."

"Kurt does get first dibs." Kurt cut in, eyeing Finn as he rolled up the one sleeve to the edge of his cast for him.

"Kurt I'm not 5." Blaine laughed.

"No but you handicap at the moment." Kurt glanced at Blaine and smiled, Blaine returned the gesture but the smile soon faltered as Kurt turned his back to him.

"Guys?" Blaine said, stopping the step-brothers as they turned to the door. Finn raised an eyebrow and Kurt titled his head to the side, neither spoke. "I…uh…I just want to…" Blaine ran his good hand through his curls. "Uh…heh…" He let out a single awkward laugh.

"Hey, man," Finn said, stepping forward, "You've always got a place here…just on the couch." Finn grinned and Blaine smiled, "Now, c'mon, I wanna play Skyrim!" Finn then bolted from the room and ran down the stairs like a child on…well, on Christmas morning.

Blaine glanced at Kurt, a soft smile on his face. "Well, I got his approval. I think that's everybody in the Hummel-Hudson household."

Kurt smiled and walked over to Blaine, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and pressing their foreheads together. "I love you Blaine, please know that."

Blaine smiled softly, slipping his eyes closed, "I know."

"And I will always love you."

"I know," Blaine whispered again, voice even softer.

They stood like that for a long moment, before Kurt leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Blaine's lips. "Now c'mon," He whispered, pulling back. "Let's go see what Santa brought you."

"Ha, I don't think Santa brought me anything."

"Aw, c'mon, that big fat man is made of magic, I'm sure there's something for you." Kurt grinned. The two pulled back, starting for the door. "Oh! Wait!" Kurt ran to his desk and opened the drawer. Pulling out a pack of colorful sharpies he slammed the door shut and returned to Blaine's side. "I need to beautify your arm candy."

"But my arm candy is already beautiful." Blaine said, slipping his arm around Blaine's waist. Kurt rolled his eyes but laughed anyway. "I love you, Kurt."

"I love you too, Blaine. Now c'mon, let's get downstairs before Finn has an aneurism."