Chapter Text
Tiny hands grip tightly at the blanket covering, bottom lip sucked tight inside a thin line of a mouth. There are occasional sounds from outside the door, in which a warm light shines under. Shadows passed by there a few times, but no one entered. Leaving six-year-old Blaine Anderson quaking alone.
It was after dark, and even if he wasn’t particularly scared of it that didn’t mean he was going to flip the side lamp off. The dark brought shadows with it. His imagination was wild already at this age, he didn’t need to delve into that creative space so easily - not when Halloween was only a month away by now. He remembered the movies. Even if he tended to be hiding behind his Star Wars blanket, pressed tight against his older brother who could only laugh at him.
His brother. The reason he was alone like this. His brother, who had thrown a fit about the idea of staying in the hospital tonight of all nights. He had his big opening night for the high school play of Newsies, staring as Jack Kelly, tonight of all nights. It was important to him. And what was important to him, was important to their parents. It wasn’t every night that you got the lead in a play. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. He needed to do what he could to get his name out there. A high school play? It was more than that. He let Blaine know just how important it was when Blaine looked so saddened at the idea of being left in the hospital alone. It was only a few hours. He could handle a few hours alone. He wasn’t a baby anymore. This would be good practice for Blaine to prove he was a big boy now and growing up. So Blaine had nodded in agreement when Cooper told him why their parents had to be there. And not here. Not with him.
It wasn’t like he had planned to get that high fever that landed him here. It wasn’t like he planned to not keep anything down for the last two days. This wasn’t planned. This wasn’t a dramatic show to scream for his parents attention. He would be going home tomorrow. He could handle it. He was quick and smart for a six-year-old. He understood. His brother’s big night was important. He had promised his mom and dad that he understood. He said he’d be fine for a few hours. So long as his mom came back when it was over.
How long do plays normally last?
Too long.
There was a scuffle in the hall and Blaine sinks further down on his bed, pulling the blanket with him. It uncovers his bed companion, a stuffed white bunny with a pink nose and bow tied around its neck, reminding Blaine that it was here for comfort. The one and only thing that could offer comfort right now, even if it’s motionless body wasn’t calming him like it normally did.
Tears were threatening to push their way up behind his eyes, and he tried to blink them away. Cooper’s taunting voice echoing in his ears about how only babies cried, unless a director told you otherwise. He wasn’t a baby. He was turning seven soon. He wasn’t a cry baby. He could hold out. That’s what big boys did. He knew that. He sniffles, reaching in to pull the soft bunny closer against his chest.
Another scuffle, and then a loud yell, then running fading down the hall. That didn’t sound good. He lets the tears fall. The sob getting caught in his throat as he curls up around his bunny friend, hiding his face from the empty hospital room. The shaky cries echoing softly as he tries to repress the tightness in his chest, wanting so bad to not be loud right now. If he was going to cry, he didn’t want to be noticed. That would be embarrassing. What would his brother say if he found out?
“Why are you crying?”
A voice invades Blaine’s senses, and he takes a moment to look up through his tears. Confusion clouds his judgement. He doesn’t recognize that voice. It isn’t his family, that’s for sure. And he knows it isn’t his doctor or one of the night nurses either.
At first Blaine doesn’t see anyone. The room itself is dimly lit by only the bedside lamp, so there’s shadows still lurking in corners. Then there’s movement that catches his eye. Someone was standing in the far dark corner of his room. How had Blaine not noticed the person before? How long had they been there? Were they here to run more tests? Poke him with needles? He hated needles so much. His fingers flex around his stuffed animal at the mere thought of the intrusive things coming near him. He felt like a pin cushion on his arrival, and didn’t want to make that a second-time thing.
Sniffling, Blaine burrows further under his blankets, suddenly self-conscious and feeling a little guilty for crying. He was a big boy. He had to prove to Cooper that he wasn’t a cry baby anymore. Maybe this person would mock him for it. He couldn’t see their face, they were just a shadow within a shadow. It was unnerving not to make this person out, even if the voice sounded so gentle.
“It’s okay, I’m not here to hurt you, Sweetheart.” The voice speaks again, seemingly reading Blaine’s thoughts. Still, the figure makes no movement to come closer. Blaine’s walls are still up as he fixes the stranger in his corner a weary look over the top of his stuffed bunny in hopes to get a better look at whom this figure was. But the figure remains right where it is, unmoving. “What’s your name?” It asks instead when Blaine still makes no verbal response. Only blinking wetly, and trying to make himself as small as possible.
There’s a pause, but as if in slow motion he is slowly sitting up and uncurling. Keeping the toy tightly in his arms, he wipes at his face with a hand, collecting the fallen tears.
“Blaine.” His voice coming out small. Almost in a whisper.
He can’t make the figure out entirely still. He can see their outline at least. It seems to get thicker, really ruling out the figure being anything but human - even if Blaine had read all those comics about alien invasion, he could still keep his wits about him just-in-case, right? He can make out more than when they first spoke, though it doesn’t offer any details. It’s like a transparent image cast against the wall. Seemingly solid but not real all at the same time. Even so, Blaine can feel them smile and nod. It sets his mind at ease just a little.
“Hi, Blaine.” The voice sends a shiver down Blaine’s body, chill pimples appearing on his arms. “That’s a very handsome name, I like it. It suits you.
The figure’s voice is so soothing to him. It’s light and almost sounds musical to his ears, and Blaine feels comfortable enough to let his hunched shoulders relax enough so he isn’t bunched too tightly against his pillow. His hold on his bunny never loosens however, picking at and twirling the long ears around his fingers with another sniff, willing the tears away. “What’s your name?” He retaliates, looking towards the dark corner through his wet eyelashes. It was only fair, right?
There’s a warm chuckle. Blaine doesn’t know if the person is laughing at him or not. “Oh, of course, how rude of me: I’m Kurt.”
Kurt. Blaine decides he likes that name. It wasn’t a name he’s heard before, and it was definitely unique. Easy to say. Easy to pronounce.
Sitting up straighter in his bed, he extends a hand out towards the figure - Kurt - who still has yet to remove himself from the shadows. “It’s very nice to meet you, Kurt.” Manners were important, even when meeting strange shadow people. His father would be proud.
There’s a pause. And then a light shimmer of movement as Kurt emerges out of the shadows and more into the warm, soft light being cast from the bedside lamp near the bed. It keeps the room from being pitch dark, but still isn’t strong enough to be thought of as irritatingly bright to keep patients awake. Blaine notices that Kurt is definitely human, so that was one small relief. But he was also wearing normal clothes off the bat, not a hospital gown or a white coat. That sets his mind more at ease, seeing as he wasn’t here to poke and prod at him. Immediately he gives the man a bright smile as he approaches to shake his hand. He’s dressed in simple blue jeans, a vest, a button down striped shirt, with a red bow tie and a scissor brooch attached to one of the vests flaps. Blaine perks, already interested in this man and his fashion choices. He looked to be younger than his doctor, but definitely older than Cooper. His skin almost appearing see through he was so pale. But Blaine didn’t mind. He wasn’t in the shadows anymore, and Blaine liked his red bow tie especially.
“You’re quite the dapper gentleman, Blaine.” Kurt compliments. Blaine can see the color of the mans eyes the closer he gets too. Stark blue. Like looking at books of space he had back home with all the pictures of stars and galaxies. Kurt’s eyes were exactly like that. Pretty. With perfectly coiffed chestnut hair, and a winning smile to match.
Blaine decides he likes Kurt’s smile. And eyes.
When Kurt shakes his hand, even if it is for a second or two, Blaine can’t help but to frown as his attention is brought to how weird it felt. That was odd. Kurt’s hands are freezing. Like he had plunged his hands into blocks of ice before coming over. The handshake was brief, but Blaine has to hide his hands under the covers with an involuntary shiver.
“Who is this?” Kurt breaks Blaine’s momentary thought process, indicating the bunny still in Blaine’s arms. It draws the boys attention from cold hands to the fluffy thing he was still clinging to for dear life. He squeezes it with his arms, hiding his chin behind the fluffy ears.
A smile returns to Blaine’s face and the thought of cold hands leaves him. “Flopsy.” He says proudly. “My favorite stories my mama reads to me are about rabbits, like Peter Rabbit? Have you read that one before, Kurt? I have a copy!” Even making to point the book out on the nearby bedside table, where it still sat from where his mom had finished reading it to him only before she left. “Peter has siblings named Mopsy, Flopsy, and Cottontail. I think Flopsy fits, because of his ears. See.”
Kurt gives another warm chuckle, nodding as he tilts his head when Blaine shows off the floppy nature of the rabbit toy’s ears.“That’s a very good name for a bunny, I agree.” Kurt says, folding his hands in front of himself with a bright smile that Blaine can’t help but to mirror best he can. “I have read the book, yes. My own father read it to me before — well, when I was your age.” Kurt almost sounds sad when he says this, but Blaine doesn’t pick up on it fast enough because Kurt is changing the subject again with ease. “You must be very smart then. All the people who I know who like books are. Do you think you’re smart, Blaine?”
Blaine beams from the compliment. It wasn’t very often he got compliments from people, and it always made him feel a sense of pride when he got one unwarranted. Turning his face away in embarrassment with a shrug, twisting the edge of the blankets around his fingers as he responds with. “Not as smart as my big brother.” He knew he wasn’t as smart as Cooper.
“You have a brother?”
Blaine nods slightly, adjusting in his bed some more so his legs are pulled closer to his center. “Yeah! I have a big brother named Cooper. He’s the only brother I have. But he’s really smart. He’s doing a play tonight, he got the lead in his school musical.”
Kurt smiles. Blaine really likes that smile. It lights up his face, and Blaine can’t help himself but to think Kurt had to be the most beautiful person he’s ever seen when he smiles like that. So open. So natural.
“Do you have any brothers, Kurt?”
Those stargazed eyes drop from meeting Blaine’s, and Blaine can’t help but feel responsible somehow. Had he said something bad? Did he make Kurt sad? He didn’t want to do that. He needs to fix it. Somehow. Some way. Making the first friend he made here sad wasn’t on his to-do list.
“I did, yes,” Kurt says after a moment, looking up to meet Blaine’s curious gaze once more. “Well, step-brother actually. His name is Finn.”
Finn and Kurt. Blaine decides he likes Finn too. Just because he’s Kurt’s brother. Kurt was so nice. Anyone with a brother this nice has to be nice too.
“I only have one brother. Coop can be annoying, but I wouldn’t want another brother. He teaches me a lot of things, like how to dance.” He wiggles his feet beneath the blanket, giving Kurt another grin of his own. “Does Finn teach you how to dance?”
Kurt laughs. An actual laugh. It sounds so light. Like what he is sure angels sound like. Now, of course, he has never heard an angel before to compare. But he still decides that if he did, it would sound the exact same. There’s no going back from that thought. It’s the best laugh. Blaine likes that sound too. He wants to hear it more.
“No, no. Finn was never the best dancer. He had two left feet.” Kurt muses, shaking his head as he folds his arms over his chest. “I tried to teach him to do better, though he didn’t really take my advice. Or if he did, he forgot about it during the next dance rehearsal. He was more into sports, like football and basketball.” Judging by Kurt’s face at the mention of sports, Kurt wasn’t big on football or basketball.
“I play soccer at school!” Blaine interjects, sitting up straight and proud. “When I get older, I’ll play football too. I sometimes watch it on TV with Coop. I just wish there wasn’t a lot of tackling, because it looks like it hurts.” His nose wrinkles in distaste, and he can hear Kurt hum in agreement. “But I also dance! Been taking lessons since I was five. Do you dance too?”
Kurt looks pleased with Blaine enthusiasm. Nodding at the question, then offering a nonchalant shrug as he chuckles. “Used to. Ballet mostly. But also self-taught for ballroom.”
Blaine is mesmerized. Self-taught? He didn’t entirely know what that meant, but it sounded amazing. “Does that mean you like the Nutcracker?” It may have been the only ballet he knew, but he loved it just the same. Ballet fascinated him. He knew he saw guys doing ballet on stage, but he never actually met someone who danced it. Kurt was his new hero. Kurt would be amazing in the Nutcracker he decided.
“I do! Yes. I take it you are also a big fan?” Kurt smiles again, and Blaine almost forget what it’s like to breathe.
“We see it every year for Christmas. It’s a family tradition. I like how everyone dances on their tiptoes.” He kicks his legs under the blanket some, wiggling his feet to further his point. Kurt laughs again. “We get dressed up. I even wear a lot of hair gel to match daddy and Coop.” He brings his hands up to his head of curls, slightly askew from a case of bed head. Not a regular look for him, but clearly Kurt doesn’t mind.
“That sounds fancy, Blaine. No wonder you’re so refined.”
Blaine frowns, head tipping with curiosity. “What’s refined mean?”
“It means you’re dapper and a gentleman.”
“Oh. Thank you.” Blaine taps his chin, then points to Kurt. “You’re refined too, Kurt.”
Kurt shakes his head, but he’s still smiling. Clearly amused. Blaine doesn’t mind. He knows Kurt isn’t laughing at him. Kurt wouldn’t do that. Kurt’s his friend.
“I like your bow tie.” Blaine comments, changing subjects with a point of his finger. Cooper always did say, if you mean it - point to prove it.
Reaching up to lightly stroke the article of clothing, Kurt hums his approval. “Thank you. I’m quite fond of it too.” He straightens it, even if Blaine didn’t notice if it was crooked before.
“I have a collection of them back home!”
Okay. That was an understatement. A collection may have meant several, in different colors with a few patterns thrown in for fun. But Blaine? His several grew into two full drawers in his dresser. From every shade of color to every pattern imaginable. You never knew what the day would bring and Blaine had to look his best. He was representing the Anderson family name, after all. And Anderson’s were important people in Ohio. He was reminded of it every day.
It was the ticket item of everyone’s approval. Including Kurt’s it would seem. Blaine is pleased with this. He definitely wants Kurt to approve.
“Oh, wow. A collection? That definitely sounds refined. Do you have a favorite bow tie that you wear, Blaine?”
Blaine has to think about it. His mind going over every outfit he can remember wearing that got the most response or that he wore more than once. “Yes! It’s blue.” He mimes a bow tie around his neck, grinning wide. “I also have one that has bow ties on it. Bow ties on a bow tie! Isn’t that funny?”
And there’s that angelic laugh, that eases Blaine’s spirit completely and has him grinning wide. Kurt approved.
“That sounds amazing, Blaine! You’ll have to show me those sometime.”
Blaine is about to answer when the door opens and his mother peeks inside to wave, catching both of their attention. “We’re back, sweetie. Mommy will be right in after I talk to the doctor, okay?” And then the door closes.
Kurt gives a soft sigh, turning to Blaine again and dropping his hand from fidgeting with the chain of his scissor brooch. “Well, looks like you’ll be in good hands once again, Sweetheart. So this is where we part ways.” Blaine feels his heart sink. “It was very nice to meet you, Blaine.”
“You’re leaving?” Blaine doesn’t try to hide the fact that he’s disappointed. He loves his mother, but he wanted his mom to meet Kurt too. He wanted her to hear him laugh. See his gorgeous eyes. And see that smile. He made a friend. He didn’t want his friend to leave yet.
Kurt smiles at him, and Blaine wishes he could be mad at him. But he can’t. He likes that smile too much. “For now.” Kurt sticks his hand out for a handshake this time. Blaine accepts it, getting reminded of just how cold the mans hand was. But manners still mattered, even if it did give you goose pimples and a shiver. “Until we meet again, Blaine.” The handshake breaks, and Blaine doesn’t hide his disappointment that time. He pouts.
Kurt moves towards the door, almost as if floating it was so elegant, right as it opened again and Blaine’s mother entered at last. She moved right past Kurt as if she didn’t even see him, and invades Blaine’s personal space. Which was odd. She always acknowledged anyone who had been in Blaine’s room before, even with just a smile.
The last Blaine sees of Kurt is that neatly styled and combed hairstyle before his mother is enveloping him in a tight hug and cuts off vision between him and his friend. “I’m sorry it took us so long, Blainey. I hope you weren’t too lonely. I made sure to leave as soon as the curtain dropped.” Kurt’s gone by the time she pulls away. Blaine misses him already.
“I was lonely.” Blaine says, point-blank. He can see the guilt inch into his mother’s face, so he presses on “until I made a friend who kept me company. He talked to me. We talked about bow ties, dancing, Cooper.” Blaine hugs Flopsy to his chest, watching as his mother sets her purse down and pulls a chair closer to her sons bed to hold one of his hands. Her hands weren’t cold, and he is able to grip back.
“Oh?” She asks, inquisitive. Interest piqued. “You made a friend?” She glances around the room, clearly trying to seek this person out. “Where is he?”
“He left.” He is disappointed, and casts a look towards the door, almost hoping Kurt will magically appear again. He doesn’t.
“Oh.” His mother also sounds a little disappointed. “I’m sorry that he left. But I’m glad he kept you company. Maybe we can find him before we go home. What’s his name?”
Blaine smiles again.
“Kurt.”