AN: Thank you so much to everyone who faved, followed and reviewed my story. It really means a lot to get feedback on it and I am eternally grateful. That being said, I also have to apologize, because I was tearing up just writing this. This chapter, in my opinion, is very, very sad. Be warned my friends, be warned.

Blaine spent the next few days drugged beyond lucidity, drifting in and out of a hazy reality of blurring sensations. Something felt wrong to him, he knew something bad was lurking just beyond the veil of drug induced daze, but he couldn't reach it, and honestly, why would he want to?

Eventually, as he begun to heal, the doctors began to cut down on his dosage, forcing him back into the real world, and back to the cold truth waiting for him there.

He woke up after an undetermined amount of time, groggy, but able to think far clearer than before. For a blissful moment, everything seemed alright. He was simply lying in bed, right?

Of course, when he opened his eyes, he found the hospital ceiling above him, and struggled for a moment to remember how he'd ended up there. Soon he remembered his mother's voice calling to him, and her words. An accident. Right, he'd been in an accident. He'd needed surgery, but he'd be alright.

He relaxed for a moment, knowing he'd be all right, but then, another part of the memory remerged.

"Kurt...he didn't make it. He...he's gone."

Blaine tried to suck in a breath, but couldn't, feeling as though he'd just been kicked in the stomach. He gasped for air, and soon, tears began to fall and his breaths melted into wet sobs. He put a fist to his mouth to try and quiet the terrible sounds he was making. The time for denial was over, the time for shock was over. This was real, this was happening, and Kurt was gone.

"Blaine", he didn't notice his mother as she appeared in the doorway, "baby…are you alright?"

Blaine didn't respond, just continued to cry. She sat down and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly to her chest. She gently rubbed his back as sobs continued racking his body.

"I'm so sorry sweetie", she whispered softly, "I'm so, so sorry."

Blaine wasn't sure exactly how long he stayed curled up in his mother's arms, but it must have been quite a while. He eventually stopped crying, but remained there, unable to think clearly.

In the end, he withdrew from her embrace, knowing his mother would be poised to sit with him forever if that's what he wanted. It wasn't.

His mother remained at his bedside awhile longer, though Blaine wished she'd leave. Her touch was helpful, but now, he needed to be alone. When she finally did leave, she was soon replaced by a nurse, and then a doctor.

"You're doing very well", he noted, "if things keep going this well, you'll probably be home in a few days."

Blaine ignored him.

That night, Blaine didn't sleep at all. He simply laid there, staring at the ceiling, occasionally bursting out into another round of sobs.

The next morning, Sam and Tina came by to visit.

"Hi Blaine", Tina said sweetly, "how are you."

Blaine had a reply to that, but was far too polite to say it.

"So, do they know when you can get out of here?" Sam asked.

Blaine shrugged.

The visit lasted a while longer, but Blaine remained silent throughout. Around noon, Cooper came by, but again, Blaine said nothing to him.

His mother drifted in and out of his room, as did the nurses. Blaine ignored them.

By late afternoon, Blaine was weary of the people coming and going. The worst part was when they gave him those smiles, those horrible, saccharine smiles. The sickly sweet grins of people who simply didn't understand. As if they could actually do something to fill the aching void in his heart.

That evening, Blaine received one final visitor. He had finally been left alone for the time being, and has just calmed down after bursting out into sobs for what seemed like the millionth time. Eyes red, nose running, he was dismayed to hear the sound of footsteps approaching. The last thing he wanted was for someone to see him in his current state.

Of course, the visitor didn't stop, but continued into the room, and Blaine finally resigned himself and rolled over to meet the person.

"Burt", he said, surprised.

"Hey kiddo", Burt's voice was quiet, and his eyes were glued to the floor.

Neither said anything for a moment, but finally, Burt sighed, "so, do you know if you're getting out soon?"

"Yeah," Blaine replied, "I think in a few days."

"Good", Burt shoved his hands into his pocket, and his gaze wandered from the floor to the view from the window, "the…um…the funeral's next week. We wanted to, to wait, so hopefully, you'd be out of the hospital for it. I know how much…I know he'd want you there."

"I… I will be", Blaine assured him quietly.

"Good", Burt replied, "I…uh…I should get going…"

The older man stood and quietly made his way to the door.

"Burt", Blaine called out. He turned to the teenager in the bed.

"Yeah."

"I…I'm so sorry".

Burt offered a small, sad smile. "Me too, kid".

And then he turned, and left Blaine alone once more. Now out of view, Blaine found no harm in letting a few more tears fall. Of course, the few tears multiplied rapidly, and before long, he was full on sobbing.

That night, weeping alone in a hospital bed, Blaine felt lonelier than he had in a very long time.