Hello and welcome to chapter 2! Thank you all so much for all the follows, favourites and reviews! So the chapters will switch between Kurt and Blaine-centric chapters. And as the last chapter was Blaine-centric, this is Kurt-centric.
WARNING: the end of the chapter suggests what is to come. The following chapters are going to suggest many things and there is going to be death and other controversial topics. If you are affected by reading anything like this, it won't be as angsty as some things I've read, do feel free to PM me and I would love to chat over it.
By the way, if any of you are Potter-fans, do go and check out The Potters and the Austfergan Gateway by theblueanchor which I beta. It's an awesome story, the second in a series about Albus Potter and the Next Generation!
January 13th 2012.
Kurt Hummel hated hospitals. No matter how much apparent joy that seemed to come out of visits, there was always some bad news. In fact he could swear that there would be a statistic somewhere that would state that more people went into hospitals than came out of it. That would be the living proof. He had been told that this visit to the doctors meant nothing, it was just a regular checkup, that they just needed to be sure that he hadn't caught anything too bad over the Christmas break. But there was something in his dad's eyes that told him that they were lying to him yet again, that there was something wrong that he didn't know about. Kurt sighed as he sat in the waiting room once more; running his porcelain skinned hand through his newly cut short hair which he hated. It had all come out during his last batch of chemotherapy and Kurt admittedly missed it a lot, it had taken him years to perfect the look he had sported up until his junior year when the news had come. His usual regime of being bullied at school and his talents ignored by the Glee club had all come crumbling down, the world he was used to, when the fateful word had been pronounced over him a year ago: Leukemia.
He had thought that when he told the Glee club that they would abandon him, just like his friends (well there had only been three of them) had done when his mother had died. Instead, they had done exactly the opposite. Each of them had offered their support, those who could drive had given him lifts to the appointments, and Rachel had even given him a couple of solos in the group numbers which was a nice change. Although the nice gestures were made bitter when he noted that they seemed to be solely for the fact that they felt sorry for him for what he was going through, rather than as a result of his voice and personality which he had worked so painstakingly hard at to individualize. But at least people were finally recognising his talent for once. Not that it totally mattered any more, now that he knew, from his extensive research on the disease, that there was a possibility he could die.
Kurt was woken from his somber mood in the waiting room by the sound of 5 or 6 pairs of Gucci black lined shoes, 2010 collection he noted, rapping on the floor of the hospital room. He looked up vacantly and uninterestedly from his latest Vogue magazine and was surprised when he recognised the navy blue woolen blazers with the red piping. They were from Dalton Academy in Westerville; they were the school whose show choir they had beaten at Regionals for the last two years and were yet against pitched against them at Regionals this year which was but two weeks away. Kurt had looked up their Sectionals performance and he had to admit that he was slightly nervous. Their new lead was scarily good and must have fed the boys in the group some magical dancing juice into their systems as the routine in 'Live While We're Young' had been phenomenal. He just hoped that New Directions could get their act together or they could be missing out on Nationals for the first time in three years.
The group of boys was all gathered around the reception desk, making the waiting room a lot louder than it had been a few moments ago. And darn his reflexive instincts because suddenly Kurt found himself wanting to go over and talk to them. "I'm just going to go…" He muttered, trailing off as he stood, his line of eye contact not leaving the group of boys.
Burt placed a hand on Kurt's arm; he knew the glint in the boy's eyes well enough to know that whatever Kurt was going to say would be yet another excuse or a lie. "Don't lie to me kiddo, I know you want to go and talk to the boys. You know, I could swear I recognise the uniforms, I saw a kid in the same thing come through here yesterday."
Kurt smiled gratefully at his father who was still concentrating on trying to remember the boy from yesterday. Taking his arm out from his father's grip and smoothing down the crease that he had made, Kurt made his way over to the group. "Excuse me, can I help you? Are you alright?"
His tone had been pleasant and friendly but the voice that retorted back was most certainly not. "No, of course we are not alright. Our friend was brought in here yesterday after his 20th nosebleed this month and his 15th faint and goodness knows how many other things that are wrong with him," Kurt could, with a subconscious shiver going down his spine, see where the diagnosis may be going and was intrigued to see what the reaction of the boy would be when he actually had the decency to turn around, "which as a potential medical student, I know that there are several possibilities for diagnosis. And now the hospital are not even –" the boy finally turned around and stopped mid flow as he saw Kurt, taking in the growing number of bruises, the drawn face, more pale than usual skin and the distinct lack of hair. "Oh, sorry." He stammered finally.
Kurt also observed the boy. He was just a tiny bit taller than Kurt, therefore most likely to be a senior like him, with light brown hair that fell flat on his head and strong blue eyes. "It's okay. I saw and recognised your Dalton blazers and wanted to come over and say hello." He stuck out his hand. "Kurt Hummel."
Most of the group of boys had now abandoned the reception desk and were watching this little conversation with interest. The boy took it, shaking Kurt's hand strongly. "Hunter Clarington." He frowned slightly. "How come you recognised us?"
Kurt smiled; he guessed that the rest of the boys were also Warblers as he recognised the famous captain. "My show choir has been the Warblers competition for Regionals for the last two years in a row; I'm a part of the William McKinley High New Directions group." Hunter raised an eyebrow. "I've seen your Sectionals performance and I recognise you as the new captain, correct?" Hunter nodded slowly, unsure of where Kurt was heading. "I have to say I was rather impressed."
Hunter smiled. "Well, I guess the introduction of the boys moving a bit more did seem to work." Kurt also smirked at this, the first time they had met the group, the two-step shuffle was the best they got. "Hey," he suddenly perked up as he clocked the name of the show choir, "weren't you guys the Nationals Champions last year?" Kurt nodded. "Do you remember the group at placed 15th that year? You might not."
It would be a miracle if Kurt had remembered but it was Hunter's lucky day. "Yeah, vaguely, the Musical Machos or something like that?" His brow creased momentarily. "That was it; I remember they were pretty good. A lot of regimental movement I seem to remember at first." His eyes lit up. "Wait, I thought I recognised your face from Sectionals. Your –"
Hunter's chuckle cut him off. "Yeah, the blazer makes me look quite different. I'd been captain of that choir since I was 13. Glad to know that our rivals are keeping tabs on us."
Kurt nodded. "I've made a habit for myself of making and keeping tabs on every single competition choir since I joined the New Directions." He nodded to the boys behind Hunter. "So what's the fuss with your lot? Come to visit or make a big fuss of a boy's emergency?" He called the second cheekily.
Hunter smiled slightly, taking the quip. "If you know us so well, I suppose you know of our lead Warbler Blaine Anderson?" Kurt frowned before nodding, he vaguely recognised the name. "He was brought here yesterday, we don't know the proper diagnosis but it certainly doesn't look good."
Kurt was about to ask of the full extent of Blaine's symptoms when a nurse came out into the waiting room. "Kurt Hummel?" She called around the room and, out of the corner of his eye, Kurt could see several eyes turn hopefully before sinking back down to whatever they had been occupied with before.
He shrugged an apology to Hunter. "Well, sounds like I'm up. Good to meet you, perhaps we will meet again if Blaine is to remain here. I suspect they're dragging me to lecture me once more on the importance of looking after myself as a Leukemia patient."
Hunter chuckled lightly at the annoyance in Kurt's voice. "Chemo?" He asked and Kurt nodded, rolling his eyes slightly. "Good luck mate, you'll be fine." He offered his hand once more and Kurt took it before Burt tapped him on the shoulder.
Nodding to the senior and letting his eyes flicker to the other boys in recognition of their presence, Kurt turned and followed his father and the nurse who was glaring at him slightly for keeping them waiting. Sending his best glare at the nurse at which she turned away and promptly walked that little bit faster, automatically making Kurt wonder as to whether he should have done that. He had recently become obsessed with taking note of and then stopping the habits that he realised made him a bully to a degree, the glare being just one of them, sent to anyone who annoyed him and then produced a response that he would recognise with. If things went badly from here for him, he at least needed to act as if he wanted to get into heaven, damn Mercedes and her religious ideas. No, that wasn't the reason; he just didn't want to feel bad about it.
The short walk between the waiting room and the doctor's office was busy and Kurt was glad of his height advantage which meant he could spot his dad and the nurse easily in the bustling crowd. With hospital trolleys, queues, staffed patients and many other people streaming up and down the corridor as they were, Kurt wondered how there could be any sort of order in this complete chaos.
Barging his way down the corridor to keep up with his companions, Kurt dug his Blackberry out of his pocket as it buzzed. He smiled as he opened the message that was from Mercedes = go get 'em Kurt, we'll be here whatever happens. M x. Sending a quick reply of thanks, Kurt tucked his phone back into his skinny jeans which were navy blue today. He just wanted to get this appointment over and done with, go home and start sorting through the abnormally and intriguingly high pile of mail that he had been told was waiting for him back at home. Kurt was rather anxious especially to see if his NYADA letter had come through, although Rachel's hadn't through yet either and so that was some degree of comfort.
Suddenly, Kurt saw the nurse turn right and so he followed suit, although he did know where he was going having done the route so many times and they entered the office. The doctor, a thin and balding man with half-moon spectacles that always made Kurt think of Professor Dumbledore, smiled up at them as they entered which Kurt readily reciprocated. Despite his hatred of hospitals, Kurt was admittedly rather fond of Dr. Green.
"Hi there, Kurt! Hello Mr. Hummel." He stood up, pushing back his chair and letting the metal scrape against the polished floor resound around the tiny office as he shook hands with the two men before indicating the two plastic chairs that were perfectly positioned in front of the desk. "How was your Christmas? Now please don't tell me that you have been in here since I last saw you?"
The twinkle in his eyes and voice made Kurt smile. Dr. Green didn't try to be nice and cool, he just was naturally. Shaking his head, Kurt replied politely to the doctor. "Eventful sir," Burt nodded, with 12 people in their tiny house, it had most certainly been an eventful Christmas, "but no, this is my first visit to the hospital this year."
Dr. Green returned the smile, noting down something quickly on his computer that was rather handily turned away from them. Perhaps it was him noticing the bruises on his hands that seemed to be getting more and more prominent every day. Or perhaps it was the fact that he kept wriggling in his seat as if he was an ADHD suffering 5 year old. He argued to himself that it was only because it was because it had become too painful to put too much pressure on his back. And that wasn't because of the bullies. He didn't know whether it was a small mercy or it just made him feel even worse that it had to have been around 8 months since he had last been shoved into the lockers or slushied. Deciding it was a small mercy, Kurt's attention refocused back onto Dr. Green who was conversing with Burt.
"Just the usual checkup, that's all it is. Okay Kurt?"
Kurt didn't need to know anything else. The usual checkup didn't take that long, just a look at his back, neck, arms and ankles to see if there was an bruising, regulate his blood pressure and temperature and all the things that Kurt had grown used to doing at the usual checkups over time. Dr. Green nodded and they both stood before Kurt went behind the screen to take off his shirt, exposing his porcelain skin to the cold January elements which weren't exactly friendly. He took off his shoes, socks and rolled up his trousers and stood there as Dr. Green came through the screen and walked around Kurt carefully, taking in the scars and purple bruising, the paler than normal skin which was saying something and wasn't as a result of the exposure to the elements. Finally Dr. Green nodded, jotting down some notes and he left Kurt so that he could get redressed in privacy. There was silence on the other side of the curtain which made Kurt frown. That was never a good sign.
Satisfied that he looked slightly more presentable, Kurt slipped back behind the curtain to face the growing tension in the silence. Dr. Green was smiling at him but Kurt could tell it didn't quite reach his eyes. "We're going to slightly mix things up a little today Kurt. Would you mind stepping outside for a moment while I speak to your father in private? There's a chair outside for you to sit on and we shouldn't be too long. After that we can go through the rest of the checkup."
Kurt was now really worried but he knew he couldn't show it. Instead he merely nodded and opened the door, leaving the room and taking a seat in the chair that Dr. Green had mentioned right outside his office door. It really was rather interesting just to be able to sit and watch people, Kurt thought as he did so. The rush from earlier had subsided slightly and Kurt watched as visitors and patients and staff now roamed the corridors, visitors bearing bouquets of flowers and other gifts despite their sweaty palms. Doctors briskly brushed past him, those who recognised Kurt from his regular visits over the last year offered Kurt a smile which he was willing to return easily, glad in his heart that there were people who recognised him and knew of his existence, even if it was for not exactly the greatest reasons.
What put Kurt off the idea he had had about playing a game of Angry Birds on his iPod, though, was the sight of a hospital trolley being pushed down the corridor, none the too slowly either. As everyone in the corridor moved out of the way of the trolley and the nurses pushing it, there was something that caught Kurt's eye. Of the person inside the trolley, Kurt could only make out a small blazer cuff. And of this blazer cuff, the fashionista could clearly make out its navy blue and red piping. This had to be the Blaine Anderson guy that Hunter had talked of.
But before he could get a proper look at the boy on the trolley, he was gone. Kurt pulled out his phone again and was about to search this Blaine Anderson when the door opened and his father came out, his face expressionless. "The doctor wants to speak to you alone before carrying on the rest of the checkup.
With Kurt at yet another checkup for his Leukemia and Rachel again singing about another petty issue she has, Mercedes was once more bored in Glee club. One of the reasons she had a deep spite for Rachel was that she gained all the solos, her one line at Nationals last year was not enough to satisfy her diva needs which Mr. Schuester never seemed to notice, focusing on the neediest member of the club. Why was she made to feel so left out? Rachel hogged all the solos and while Mercedes could not deny that she was a good singer, it was time that he let someone else shine for a little while. When was the last time she had had a solo? Oh wait, not even in Glee club but with Mr. Schue's sworn enemy Coach Sylvester when she and Kurt had joined the Cheerios for a time. Even Quinn and Santana had managed to get solos at some point over the last four years. But now in her senior year, she had yet to get a solo and it was getting ridiculous.
As Rachel received yet another round of applause and Finn looked on adoringly, Mercedes was pleasantly surprised to receive a text from Kurt. She smiled as she thought that you weren't allowed to use phones in hospital, rebel Kurt. Are you in Glee club? K. Kurt had been straight to the point and direct. Mercedes frowned, he knew exactly when Glee club was and they knew each other so well that they would not skip it, however little attention the divas were paid. Of course, do you need to talk to them or something? M x.
There was no reply but instead the sound of Whitney Houston's 'I Will Always Love You' came blaring out and Rachel, having been interrupted by this mid-rant, turned to glare at Mercedes who promptly glared back. "It's Kurt." She stated which immediately shut her up as Mercedes pressed the 'answer' button. "Heya boy!"
Mercedes was suddenly startled by how quiet Kurt was on the other end of the phone. His voice was shaking like a leaf and his speech was no louder than a whisper. "Cedes? Can you put me on speakerphone? I need…" he faltered and then took a deep breath, "I need to talk to everyone, tell them something."
Mercedes nodded, aware that all the eyes of the Glee club were trained on her. "Hang on." She stood up and made her way to the front, ignoring the confused and some angry looks that she was receiving from her fellow Glee clubbers. "Kurt has something to say to you all and seeing as you have never listened to him over the last four years, I think it's time you let him have his say." Her voice was low and dangerous and no one dared to argue.
A slightly abashed Mr. Schuester nodded and Mercedes held up her phone as she put it on speakerphone. "Alright Kurt, they can hear you now."
There was a cough at the other end of the line before Kurt spoke. "Um, hi guys." There were some frowns from the group as they leaned forward to try and hear Kurt better; they had never heard him so vulnerable before. "So some, unless it was just Mercedes who listened, may know that I've been at the doctors today for a checkup on…it." Kurt could not even bring himself to speak of his illness, it hurt him too much. A deep breath sounded from the other end of the phone before the senior uttered words that would change the lives of every single person who heard it. "The doctors think it might be terminal."
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