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The Middle of my Frustrated Fears

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It started simply enough. Recovering from the PTSD of Sadie Hawkins whilst trying to settle into a far more academically challenging school, it was no wonder Blaine Anderson needed that extra kick the Adderall gave him to get through the day. And boy, did he get it.

Wes noticed the change in the formerly withdrawn boy, he suddenly had much more energy, far more enthusiastic than he had seen him. He asked Blaine about it, of course, but the boy just brushed him off, claiming he was just finally comfortable in the hallowed halls of Dalton Academy. Wes didn't let it go, but he was so pleased to see Blaine express any emotion that wasn't fear, he eventually forgot the sudden change in personality and accepted it as normal.

And so what if Blaine occasionally had slight tremors in his hands and upper lip. So what if he panted that bit heavier than anyone else after a performance. So what if his mom thought he stopped taking the drug three months after he started. It wasn't as if he had an addiction. Honest.

Senior year was really hard on Blaine. The first day at McKinley without Kurt was horrible. The first day at school after Kurt left for New York was horrific. So Blaine immersed himself in extracurricular activities to stay busy. He became senior class president and joined no fewer than 23 clubs.

Surely enough, he began to feel an overwhelming pressure he had not felt in a long time. So Blaine came to the conclusion that his usual dosage just didn't do it for him anymore. He soon began to take double what he had originally been prescribed years ago. He wasn't worried. Sure, he'd had his slips over the years. The times where the drug was too much, and he honestly tried to stop. But the craving was too strong, he decided that he'd take the side effects over withdrawal any day.

Blaine didn't remember meeting Eli. He didn't remember going around to his house. But he did remember having sex with him. It was like he wasn't present in his own body, like he was watching himself do these things from above. It completely repulsed him. When he got home, he showered for 45 minutes, trying to get rid of the feeling of another man's hands on him. He got a ticket on the next flight to New York.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

If Blaine thought living in a different state to Kurt was horrific, breaking up with him was unbearable. Blaine stayed in a stupor for two straight weeks. He walked around every day simply going through the motions. He didn't even take the Adderall during that time.

It wasn't until he nearly went back to Dalton that he was jolted back to reality. He needed to get back to his old self and fast. He wasn't okay, and he definitely didn't want to pretend he was. It didn't matter though, the Adderall would do it for him.

In the weeks that followed, Blaine appeared to be himself again. He was a highly active member of all of the clubs he was a part of, but none more so than the glee club. In between Grease rehearsals and preparing for sectionals, Blaine barely had time to breathe. He thanked the god he didn't believe in, every single day for the drug that got him through. If he found it odd that he seemed to be building a tolerance to it, he didn't dwell on it long, merely upped the dosage.

When the day of sectionals arrived, Blaine wasn't far from a nervous wreck. He was glad Kurt wasn't going to be there, seeing him at Grease had crushed him and he didn't need the distraction today. For the first time in a long time, he was jittery and didn't blame it on the drug coursing through his body.

After watching the warblers perform, Blaine stood backstage, mentally preparing himself for their songs. His thoughts were interrupted when his phone rang. Kurt. Kurt was calling him. He didn't know if he could handle this.

After hanging up, Blaine felt completely ready to beat the competition. Well, almost. He'd been feeling off all day and couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He chose to ignore it though and instead went to the bottle off Adderall in his messenger bag and shook out a handful of the pills, swallowing them dry. There, now he was ready.

Halfway through Gangnam Style, Blaine new something was wrong. He could feel every beat of his heart against his ribcage. He felt like he could barely breathe but he pushed through. Isn't that what a performer does?

Coming off stage between songs, Blaine felt like he was moving in slow motion. Unable to control his movements, he fell into Sam. Sam was startled and automatically moved away when someone fell onto him, so Blaine went crashing to the ground. Blaine could see Sam and Mr Schue in his line of vision, why were they above him? They were talking, or at least Blaine thought they were, he couldn't hear anything other than his own too fast heartbeat in his ears. He couldn't breathe, why couldn't he breathe? And then nothing.

Blaine came to a short while later, but he felt as though he was submerged in water, fighting to stay above it. Amongst the pain, he could feel something hard over his mouth and nose. An oxygen mask? He still couldn't breathe, his lungs were full of water and he couldn't breathe. Why couldn't he breathe? Why weren't they helping him? Eventually the water won and Blaine was pulled once again into the blissful darkness.

Blaine's senses came to him in patches. He could feel himself being moved. There were hands on his chest. He heard random words like 'kidney failure', 'tox screen', 'pulmonary oedema', and 'tachycardia' but they meant nothing to him.

Beeping. A constant beeping and a very sterile smell. These were the first things that Blaine was aware of. The second was a hissing sound and the quick realisation that there was a tube down his throat. Panic consumed Blaine. He thrashed around in terror and pulled at the tubing, oblivious to the people and shouting around him before he felt a prick in his bicep and blacked out once again.

It was much calmer when Blaine came to once again. No longer intubated, there was no immediate panic. He opened his eyes slowly, shutting them immediately at the harsh and unfamiliar light. The next thing he was aware of was a pair of soft hands, one in his left hand and the other stroking his forehead. The hands were accompanied by a soothing voice. It was one that Blaine recognised. "K-kuurrrt?"

"Shh. Save your strength honey. You've had a rough few weeks and you're still very weak." Blaine let his eyes open to a slit, thankful to notice the lights had been dimmed. He opened his eyes more and looked at Kurt. The man looked ragged, like he hadn't slept, or shaved, in weeks. "Don't talk Blaine, you're very sick still. You overdosed on Adderall." Oh. "I just can't believe you would do something like this! You had to have surgery to get fluid drained from your lungs. Your heart was beating so fast they thought it was going to stop working. Your kidneys started to fail and they had to give you three rounds of dialysis before you were out of the woods enough to take you off of life support. You were on a ventilator for two week. Blaine! How could you be such an idiot?"

Somewhere in the middle of his shouting, the both of them had started crying. By the end, Kurt was sobbing in earnest and Blaine wanted nothing more than to comfort him, he was just so tired.

"I could've lost you Blaine. I couldn't handle the idea of losing you before we ever got to make things better. The doctor told me that you started taking Adderall at 15? After Sadie Hawkins? He also told me it can make you hallucinate. What happened with Eli?"
"Don't remember much." Blaine's voice was hoarse from lack of use. Kurt looked stunned.
"Oh. Well you just focus on getting better. We can discuss this later. Just go to sleep. I'll be here. I'm not leaving, I promise."