I guess that episode frustrated me a bit? I mean, don't get me wrong, I loved it and everything, but apart from a tiny song, we didn't get to see how Kurt being beaten up affected our dearest Blaine. I yearned for more Klaine there. I know it wasn't quite the point, and there was Burt, so yay to that (I literally squealed when he came on screen), but I honestly felt they couldn't have left out Klaine's conversation about it. It felt, like, vital and important.

So I tried, and here it is.

I do have other chapters planned out, but the sad thing is that I'm going on a two-week vacation, so no writing during that time... yeah. Just read the story and maybe follow it if you're interested? You might forget this even existed two weeks from now and miss updates ;D

The tears pooled his eyes, but that was about everything they did. There was something awfully comforting about lying down with Kurt, even if it was in a hospital because he had gotten beaten up. For now, if he closed his eyes and took a deep breath (as deep as his closed nose would let him), he could almost pretend they were asleep at the loft. And that's what he tried to do for about fifteen minutes.

Suddenly remembering something, Blaine sat up and retrieved his phone from his pocket, sniffing silently and wiping his nose on his sleeve. He brought up Sam's contact and asked him to call Burt and tell him what happened. Sure, he figured it was kind of his place to do so, but all he wanted to do now was curl up against Kurt again and hug him and try to shield him from any more harm. Even more, he didn't quite trust himself to speak, much less make an important phone call.

After hitting send and getting an affirmative response a few seconds later, he lay back down and tried to make himself comfortable, very careful as not to touch any of Kurt's bruises, afraid of the ones that could be hidden beneath his hospital clothing. That thought led his eyes to the pile of clothes on a counter next to the window and he quickly averted his gaze. For some reason, it looked a bit morbid and – no, don't go there.

Blaine sniffed again and glanced at Kurt's face. The nasty cut on his left cheek was what troubled him the most, because that definitely hadn't been caused by a human hand, foot, knee, or anything of the sort. It had been an object; what kind of object, he didn't dare imagine for fear of having a panic attack.

In an attempt to keep himself sane, he lay his head back down on Kurt's shoulder and closed his eyes, trying to maybe get some sleep. Of course, he knew that wasn't going to happen. Firstly, his eyes were too swollen. Secondly, his stomach was still clenching uncomfortably. Thirdly, he couldn't breathe very rhythmically yet. But he had to at least pretend he tried and let himself be comforted by the slow and steady movement of Kurt's chest next to him.

He had no idea what time it was – probably the middle of the night, but he was still awake anyway – when Kurt stirred slightly. Blaine raised himself in his elbows and looked down at him, ready to help in anything.

"Kurt?" he whispered softly and caressed the side of his hair with his right hand. He received a faint hum in response, and his heart rate increased. "It's okay, I'm here. Are you awake?"

Slowly, Kurt's eyes opened, but only halfway. Seeing those blue orbs was all Blaine needed to release a breath he thought he'd been holding ever since the hospital had called him. His hand kept caressing the chestnut hair.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

"Hm," he blinked heavily. "What…"

"You're in the hospital. Someone found you, and they brought you in, then the hospital called me. It's okay. You're okay. It's the middle of the night." Okay, maybe his sentences were a bit off and lacked a certain logical sequence, but he thought he did pretty well. Then he asked again. "How are you feeling? Do you need me to get you anything? I could call the nurse."

"No," Kurt's voice came out raspy and weak, and it pained Blaine to see him like this – it really ripped his heart apart, so all he could do was grimace.

"You should probably go back to sleep," he dropped a kiss at Kurt's forehead, where it wasn't bruised. "We'll talk in the morning."

Kurt seemed to agree, because he closed his eyes again, and Blaine resumed his position next to him, where he stayed until the first rays of sun started filling the room. He decided to check his phone, in case he had missed anything, even though that was unlikely. No messages or calls, and his cell said it was seven thirty in the morning. Lightly pecking Kurt's hair, he got up and dialed Burt's number. It only had to ring twice.

"How is he?" That's how he was greeted, with a concerned voice of a father.

Blaine took a deep breath and ran a hand through his face, trying to make his thoughts clearer. "Sleeping. On pain meds. Other than that and the bruises, he's fine." He released another breath of relief. Saying that Kurt was fine seemed to somehow calmed his nerves. "I-I hope I didn't wake you. Sorry for calling so early. I just wanted to make sure Sam had reached you."

"He did. I'm leaving to the airport right now. Should be there by eleven."

"O-okay." Blaine wanted to smack himself. Get a grip and stop stuttering. Really, not that hard. That was why he didn't want to be the one calling the previous night. "Ah, did you… Do you need me to pick you up? To find the hospital?"

"Yeah, that would be nice." Burt sounded like he was lifting something, and then he released the air. "I'll let you know when my plane takes off. I gotta get to the car now."

"Okay."

Blaine was lowering the phone to end the call when Burt called him again, and he lifted the phone back to his ear. "Hey, Blaine?" Burt paused for a moment. "Get some rest, will ya? You sound exhausted."

Alright, so it was that bad.

He nodded and muttered something similar to an okay and hung up, pocketing his phone again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, hands falling to his hips. He surely felt exhausted, and he probably was, because he hadn't slept all night. Still, having it pointed out by someone who wasn't seeing him spoke volumes as to the level of his exhaustion.

"Was that Rachel?" he heard a faint voice behind him and turned around to find Kurt watching him. Blaine immediately sat back down on the bed.

"No. It was your dad." Blaine reached for Kurt's hand and took it, trying to avoid the hurt areas, which were a lot. "He's flying out here in a couple of hours."

"It must be pretty serious, then."

Blaine's face fell when he released control of his emotions. He stared at Kurt, tears coming back to his eyes and this time actually threatening to fall.

"Kurt…" he sounded horrible even to himself. "We've been worried sick. Rachel and the others – we were all here last night after I got the call, and it took ages for the doctors to tell us anything. Yes, your dad is coming here as well, maybe because you ended up in the hospital," his voice broke and he looked down, swallowing a sob.

"I'm fine now."

Blaine turned his eyes to the ceiling to keep the tears from falling before looking at Kurt's expressionless face again. "I'm serious."

"So am I."

He let his gaze got to the floor again for a moment and inhaled deeply to keep his emotions at check again. He wasn't mad at Kurt… not exactly. He shouldn't get angry right now. He would deal with his own feelings later.

"I know what you did," Blaine said at last, not raising his eyes. He felt Kurt frowning, so he explained himself. "A woman was walking by when you decided to play hero and help that guy. She heard what you guys were screaming and kinda saw what happened. When they left you there, unconscious, she called 911." He shuttered as he breathed, and then he locked eyes with his fiancé. "I'm proud of what you did. Really, I am. A lot."

Since he kept quiet after that and lowered his gaze once more, Kurt raised his eyebrows. "But?"

Blaine took his loudest and shakiest breath ever and raised his tear-streaked face. "Don't ever do that to me again. Ever." Kurt opened his mouth to speak, but Blaine wouldn't let him. "You have no idea how frustrating and horrible it was to keep trying to talk some sense into the front desk lady so she would tell me if you were even alive. All the guy who called me said was that someone had brought you in after finding you passed out in a dark alley, all bruised a-and… and then when I got here that woman told me what she saw." He closed his eyes. "Nobody would tell me anything about you because I apparently wasn't family, and I almost had to make that front desk lady call your father to give me permission to receive the news before she figured that, if I was your emergency contact, she probably could trust me. I mean, I'm your fiancé, for God's sake. And it took them forever to even –"

"Blaine," Kurt interrupted. "Breathe. I'm fine."

"You could have died!"

He had spoken a bit more loudly than intended. His eyes burned and he dropped his head to his hands, trying to calm himself down.

"Hey," he heard, and then felt a hand on his thigh. "Look at me."

Blaine shook his head, silently crying. He couldn't look at Kurt's bruised and yet still beautiful face. His heart was bursting. He couldn't get enough air to his lungs. It was worse than when he had been at the hospital after being beaten up at that Sadie Hawkins dance, and maybe this was what a panic attack started like.

"Blaine, come on," Kurt grabbed one of his hands, tearing it away from his face. Considering the very quiet mutter of pain that left Kurt's lips, Blaine assumed it had been very hard for him to move that much, and so he dropped the other hand and faced him.

"I can't lose you."

"You won't," Kurt assured him. "I'm not going anywhere. But I'm not gonna be passive in this fight. I'm not gonna let that hate control my life."

"I know, I know," he said despairingly. "I'm so proud of you for standing up like that. But I don't want you to get yourself killed. That other guy is in a coma. A coma, Kurt. You're extremely lucky to have gotten out with just a few scratches."

"I'm aware of that and I'm sure my father will give me the lecture, so stop freaking out. I'm fine."

Blaine rubbed his temples with his free hand. They weren't going to fight over this. No. Maybe Burt would talk some sense into him, but Blaine would just be happy that he was alive and back to him.

Kurt's hand gave his a little pull, which made him look up with teary eyes. They held each other's eyes for a long time, trying to say so much without having to vocalize it so they wouldn't argue anymore. It was Kurt who broke the slightly tense moment, looking down at his left hand that lay beside him in the bed.

"Where's my ring?"

Blaine glanced at his hand as well. "They probably took it out to take care of your injuries. It should be with your clothes. That's not important right now."

"Would you check it?"

The tone of his voice said it all, and Blaine couldn't deny him that subtle but meaningful reconciliation type of thing. It was his way of saying he was sorry for worrying him, because he cared that Blaine hadn't gotten any sleep due to his adventures. This was him saying he felt bad for driving Blaine out of his mind just to give him the cold-shoulder and pretend it wasn't a big deal. It was him saying that the way he behaved didn't reflect the way he loved and wanted Blaine by his side. It was, basically, the end of the discussion in a caring way.

Getting up, Blaine made his way to the pile of clothes that had looked so morbid the previous night and carefully looked for something shiny. After roaming around for a bit, he lifted the red scarf from the overcoat and found it. He lifted the ring to his lips and turned it to Kurt before putting it back and settling in the bed again.

"Do you feel any better?" he asked in a soft voice as he stroked Kurt's hair, just like he had done in the middle of the night.

"I'm a bit sore, but it's okay. I'm kinda hoping for a scar."

Blaine didn't know what to think of that, so his face did a weird thing between a stare, a grin, and a grimace, which made Kurt crack a smile. That in itself brought a smile to Blaine's lips and he leaned down to plant a kiss on Kurt's nose. Before he could pull away, Kurt's hand held the back of his neck and kept him where he was so he could give him a soft kiss to the lips.

"You should go home, Blaine. You look beyond tired."

"I wanna stay here with you."

"I'll be okay, don't worry. You need a nap."

"Oh, but I will worry," Blaine said with the slightest of smiles. "Besides, I gotta pick your dad at the airport when he gets here, and it's not like I can sleep right now."

"You wanna stay to take care of me, right? To make sure I'm okay," Kurt asked. Blaine thought it was pretty obvious, but he nodded anyway. "So this is my way of taking care of you. Go home. Get some sleep. I'll be right here."

Blaine opened his mouth to argue, but found nothing to say. Instead, he dropped his head and smiled a bit. "Alright, you got me there. Just one more thing." He paused, looking deeply into Kurt's eyes and cherishing their proximity. "I didn't know I was your first emergency contact."

Kurt blinked, confused. "Of course you are. You didn't think you'd be the first?"

"I-I don't know," he broke their gaze, only to return to it. "I guess I just kinda figured it would be your dad, then maybe Carole, and then maybe me, if not Rachel."

"Is my dad in New York?" Kurt raised his eyebrows.

"Well, no, but –"

"Is he gonna be the person I'm gonna live and share everything with for the rest of my life?"

"Not exactly, but –"

"Is he gonna be my husband? Who I will vow to protect and be protected by?"

Blaine's smile grew again. "No, he's not."

"Well, then, he isn't the first on my emergency contacts list. He's the second. Did we get that cleared out?"

He could barely believe his ears, honestly. Even though it seemed like nothing, this was so huge that Blaine had to tone down his grin a bit. Kurt talked about it like it was obvious that he was his only choice, and he had been put before Kurt's own father. I mean, huge.

"I love you so much," he muttered against Kurt's lips before dropping a small kiss there. He felt those lips turn up.

"Love you, too. Now go, get some rest."

Blaine kissed his cheek before getting up. When he got to the door, though, he stopped and turned around. "Oh, I'm gonna call Madam Tibideaux and get everything settled so she doesn't give you crap about missing the Winter Critique week."

"My savior," he exclaimed sarcastically. Blaine rolled his eyes and left.