You guys went a little crazy with your reviewing didn't you? Not that I'm complaining! Your reviews were so amazing and made me want to write more, so THANK YOU!

Shontelle: Hi! Thanks for you're opinion…not that it really matters, but next time you leave a 'meant-to-be' hurtful review, please use spell check, and you call me stupid. Thank you.

ANYWAY! I'm being real generous to you guys, I'll try and update either Not Alone or The Break Up later! I also have a new NEW fic idea! So that's exciting.



Chapter 5

"Blaine? Can you get to New York? It's Kurt; he's…something's happened."

Blaine didn't register anything else that came out from Finn's mouth. The phone suddenly felt very heavy in his hand, his breathe got caught in his throat, he swears he felt his heart miss a beat.

He slides his phone shut, and places his phone on the bedside table. He walks over to his wardrobe and pulls out his suitcase. As he rips it out of his wardrobe, the weight of the empty bag crashed on his wooden floorboards, causing a loud thud to echo through his bedroom. After the suitcase is placed on the bed, he goes back to his wardrobe and starts throwing his clothes inside, not even caring to fold them. He picked out the essentials, underwear, tracksuit pants, T-Shirts, jeans.

A small knock at the door sounded, and Blaine turned to find his mom step into the room cautiously.

"Sweetie, what are you doing?" Juliet Anderson asked confusedly.

Blaine drops his cologne into the suitcase and sat on his bed, his head down to hide his crumbling face; he was not going to cry in front of his mother, he wouldn't. Too late.

First, his lip began to wobble, and then the tears sprang in his eyes, heartbreaking sobs tore through his throat. He felt a dip in the bed right next to him, the next thing he processed was his mother wrapping her arm around his waist, another comforting hand was placed on his shoulder.

"Honey, what's wrong?" When she received no reply, she tried a different approach. "Blaine, I can't help you if you don't tell me what the matter is?"

Blaine sniffled as he wiped his nose with his sleeve, Kurt wouldn't like that. Kurt. Thinking of Kurt only made the tears come in floods, so he covered his face with his hands.

"Tis Krt," Blaine mumbled with his hands still covering his face.

"Pardon?" Juliet said, moving closer to Blaine's face so she can hear him.

"It's Kurt, he's in the hospital." Blaine cried as his mother tightened her grip on her son as she gasped softly.

"No. What happened?" She asked softly.

Kurt always was a good and respectable boy; he made her son happier than he ever had been in a long time. Until that night her son came home wearing the same outfit he left in, luggage in one hand, and a torn up picture in the other. He had only left for New York that morning to surprise Kurt, but her son came back home with a broken heart. She was extremely disappointed when she heard Blaine's confession, but she had to support her son, and prayed they would sort things out. Now though, she had to support her son more than she had done before.

"I, I don't know. I hung up the phone before Finn even had a chance to tell me. I need to go there mom, I need to be there for him." Blaine said, looking up at his mom tearfully, he looked so young.

"Then carry on packing, I'll get dad to book the tickets, and I'll start packing too." Juliet said determinedly, rubbing her son's back before standing up and placing a kiss to his cheek.

Blaine watched as his mother left his bedroom, and then he was alone again. The silence was overwhelming. He thought back to the phone call with Finn, he sounded so worried, so scared. Was something wrong? Why was Kurt in the hospital? Was he sick? Did he fall? Did he overwork himself at NYADA? Or even pull a muscle? Or break a bone? Blaine's head was getting so full of theories that he thought it might burst. He had to snap out of this, Kurt needed him, and he would be there. Blaine may have failed him in the past, but that wasn't going to happen again.

He had been sitting on his bed staring at the wall for a few minutes before he heard his mother yell from downstairs. Blaine blinked out of his daydream and threw in a few extra bits of clothing, before closing the case and wheeling it downstairs. He was met by his mom and dad, who were waiting by the door. His dad was carrying two carry on bags, presumably his and his mothers, while his mother held the recently printed boarding passes. They must have been muttering things between each other, as they both looked up as Blaine stepped down the stairs, and offered him tight smiles.

"You ready to go buddy?" Peter Anderson asked his son as he put a strong, yet, comforting hand on the youngest Anderson's shoulder.

Blaine nodded sullenly, waiting for the front door to open so he can get in the car and race to the airport. His mother took his hand, and led him to the car as his dad put all of the luggage into the trunk of the car.

As he got himself comfortable in his seat, he laid his head back a little against the head rest, and tried to breathe in the stuffy air.

As the Anderson family drove out of their driveway and onto the main road, Blaine pulled his phone out of his hoodie pocket, and pulled up Finn's name.

To: Finn

On my way.

He hesitated before sending a completely different message to another person. He almost refrained, but found himself unconsciously doing it anyway.

To: Kurt

Hang in there baby. I love you so much.

Everything in his head was hazy. He couldn't remember where he was, what had happened, and why he couldn't feel anything.

It was peaceful; there was no pain, no hate, and no spite. He liked it here; it was like he was floating on a cloud, watching as the world went by.

A strong hand gripped his own, that was the first bit of feeling he felt since his mind woke up. The grip tightened slightly, but it was more comforting than it was painful. Speaking of which, if he could feel touch, does that mean the pain would return once again? He didn't want it to, he liked this place.

True to its word, a dull ache swept through his whole body, he still felt paralyzed in the bed, like he couldn't move. He was trapped while the pain tortured him. He couldn't shout out for help, he begged for the pain to go away, why wouldn't it go away?

He could hear now, his surroundings filling in his ears so everything felt extremely loud. He heard mumbles coming from around him, they still sounded far away though, so he couldn't comprehend whose voices they belonged to. A loud beeping echoed through the room, it was almost deafening how constant it was. Beep. Beep. It was making the pounding in his skull twice as worse as it was before.

"He'll – alri – w – he?"

" – rong – Finn. Wait – wake –"

The words were all jumbled up in his head, so it was taking him a while to process what they were saying. He recognised Finn's voice, the voice of his goofy, taller and older brother. Wait, why was he here in New York? And was that Carole? What were they doing here? They should be back in Lima? But that means the hand holding his is-


He spoke. Did he really just speak? It was croaky and hurt a lot, but he still spoke aloud. Didn't he?

"Oh God kiddo, can you hear me?"

The hand's grip had tightened somewhat significantly, more like a death grip. He tried to squeeze back, but it was like his hand was made out of jelly. A warm hand was placed on his cheek, and the sound of his dad's comforting voice urging, begging him to open his eyes. They felt like they were being held down with lead, so he tried blinking his eyes open. The first try was a fail, but he wouldn't give in. A few short moments later, his eyes opened, revealing an extremely blurry room which was making his head spin. He squeezed his eyes shut again as the blinding light conflicted with his vision, then reopened them to try again.

"There we are scooter, not too fast." His dad coaxed, Kurt felt a flash of hope rise in his chest at the knowledge that his dad was here.

He blinked them open again, and was met with the hopeful face of his dad, whose head was thankfully blocking the ball of light coming from the ceiling.

"Finn, turn that light down, will ya?" Burt called back to his step son, who immediately stood and dimmed the light in the room. "Hey you," His dad said, smiling joyfully. "How you doin?"

Kurt smiled slightly up at his dad, and then realized he was actually talking to him and was waiting for a response.

"So-" he stopped himself from continuing as his throat felt like it was being ripped apart by a chainsaw. Burt seemed to sense his discomfort, so brought over a glass of water which sat on the table, and fed the straw through Kurt's mouth. He took a few greedy gulps, which ended in a near death experience coughing fit. After his throat felt soothed and less sore, he spoke. "Sore." His voice was still raspy, but it was a major improvement from last time.

"I'm so glad your okay Kurt," Carole said, sitting on the other side of Burt on the large bed, "we were worried sick."

"The doctor will be in soon to check on you bud, and to give you another dose of pain medication." Burt said.

Kurt smiled and lay back further in the bed, his head almost drowning into the pillows. Pain medication sounded nice.

"Do you remember what happened?" Finn asked from his spot at the foot of the bed.

Kurt looked up at Finn and shook his head slightly. He didn't even want to remember what happened to him.

The doctor took this moment to walk in, clipboard in hand and a tired expression.

"Aah Mr Hummel, you're awake. How are you feeling?" the doctor asked.

"A little achy, and tired." Kurt replied.

"Well, I can say that you are a very lucky boy. A man found you half conscious in an alleyway on the outskirts of the city, you were badly beaten, and you sustained a pretty nasty concussion, and where you were hit in the ribs, it punctured your lung, which was why we had to perform emergency surgery on you to stop the internal bleeding. Also just a few minor cuts and bruises, and five broken ribs, apart from that, you will make a full recovery." The doctor said, putting down his clipboard after reading the list of injuries.

Kurt sat there in shock after the new bit of information was out in the open. Why would somebody leave him dying in an alleyway? What did he do wrong?

The others seemed to sense his discomfort, so as soon as the doctor injected the pain meds into his IV, he left the room. Carole stood from the bed and stood next to Finn at the end of the bed.

Kurt started to feel very sleepy, his eyes started to close, but he tried desperately to keep them open.

"Get some sleep buddy; we'll be here when you wake up."

Kurt felt his eyes closed and started to succumb to the darkness, but not before slurring aloud:

"This wasn't supposed to happen here."

I kind of did something stupid…

I wrote this chapter, whilst listening to Chris' Version of Bring Him Home (because it's flawless) so now I have mascara around my eyes, and my work collegues are looking at me like I'm an alien.


Have a great day everyone!