blainematthew:

“What sounds good for breakfast?” It’s the first thing Blaine has been hearing every morning for the past few days. It’s not morning, though. It’s about five in the afternoon, but Blaine has been staying in bed all day, sleeping. It’s much better than worrying.  Kurt’s voice is light and welcome, and Blaine rolls over on his side and forces a small smile. Kurt’s looking down at him, hands on his hips and looking exhausted and worried. Blaine knows that this is his fault, but he’s too consumed with his thoughts of Everett to even think of apologizing. His phone is still charging, in his hand, clutched to his chest. Every time it makes a small dinging noise, Blaine flinches and hope its his brother. It’s not. It hasn’t been for a couple of days. What’s even worse than that, is that the last thing Blaine had asked Everett was if he was still alive, and then some. No response. Blaine stretches, not having slept the previous night, and then shrugs, thinking for a moment. “You know, you don’t have to do this for me. But eggs sound really great,” he tells him, tugging him down to the bed with him and holding him tight to his chest. It feels nice to be close to someone, and Kurt happily snuggles into his side and so Blaine noses at the top of his head, muttering a thank you and letting him know that he was going to take a quick shower. Kurt wiggles in his arms, laughing and blushing slightly, and for some reason that leaves a lump in his throat. What happened the previous days between the two of them is still weighing heavily on him, and he still feels horrible about rejecting him. The thing was, though, Blaine was pretty sure that Kurt had figured out that Blaine is in love with his own brother. As if he wasn’t obvious enough. 

Rolling out of the bed, Blaine takes his phone with him into his own bathroom. He sighs, seeing Everett’s toiletries, a heavy weight pressing on his chest. Blaine feels himself getting choked up yet again, and he shakes his head. He’ll be here soon, he tells himself. He rids himself of his own clothes, setting his phone on top of the toilet so it’ll be close if he hears anything from Everett. Turning the shower to scalding hot, Blaine leans against the sink and stares at Everett’s cologne. He brings it up to his nose, sniffing for a moment, and feeling a lump in his throat. He waits for a moment before he sprays it against the inside of his wrists, against his neck, and around the bathroom. The smell is welcome, and Blaine closes his eyes, pretending as if Everett is somewhat near. Slipping into the shower, Blaine lets himself sink to the floor, his shampoo and body wash already there. He hasn’t stood up in a shower for two days now, too exhausted to do so. As he’s scrubbing his shampoo into his hair, his phone goes off. Blaine scrambles out of the shower, wrapping a towel around himself quickly, and he feels the world spin around him when he sees that the hospital is calling. The only reason he has their number saved is because when he was in the hospital, they would call to check up on him and make sure he was taking his medication. 

Blaine knows this call is for Everett, and tears are already streaming down his face. “Is he okay?” It’s the first thing Blaine manages to choke out, and is met with a somewhat confused woman on the other end. She tells him everything, but it’s not enough. Blaine lets out a sob, worried about his brother and he clutches at his chest. “You let him know that I’ll be there right away, okay?” Blaine asks, voice shaky. The next thing he does, is run into his room and drag on a pair of pants along with a t-shirt that he’s pretty sure is Everett’s. He’s running down the stairs, tears still in his eyes, and tells Kurt that Everett is at the hospital. Worried, Kurt offers to take him there, which Blaine is thankful for. The car ride seems like ages, with Blaine’s hands shaking but he knows that he will have to be strong in front of Everett, if that’s even possible. The moment they’re there, Blaine runs out of the car and into the hospital, asking for Everett Anderson’s room. They point for him, looking a little surprised, but Blaine doesn’t seem to care. He runs towards the room, only to see his brother hooked up to machines and fast asleep. He tries to suck in a breath, and it feels like the floor is slipping from underneath him, but he walks there, dragging up a chair to the side of the hospital bed, taking Everett’s hand. “Ev? Please wake up and talk to me. I… I need to know what’s going on, okay? I can’t have you hurt, okay? I love you, I love you so much and you can’t be too hurt..” Blaine says helplessly, not caring that he slipped saying “I love you.” He sucks in a breath, more tears falling. “Please..” 

Everett would know the sound of Blaine panicking anywhere and years of being woken in the middle of the night have trained a reflex of waking almost instantly, no matter how heavily Everett sleeps. Blearily he opens his eyes though his vision still swims and his hand squeezes around Blaine’s. He can’t force a smile, his bottom lip is trembling, but his unease ebbs a little with Blaine’s presence. His concussion groggy head doesn’t even pick up on Blaine’s confession of love, all he understands is the intensity of which Blaine is distressed over his wellbeing. “Shush, pretty boy,” he croaks out, releasing Blaine’s hand to stroke his damp hair back from his forehead then hold his cheek. “Don’t cry for me.” His voice cracks and he brings his other hand to his face to try and wipe his eyes, but he stalls at the sight of the thick IV needle in the back of his hand and the heart monitor around his finger. Instead he turns his head away and screws his eyes closed. He’s so confused, he doesn’t know how he got here, barely remembers being in the plaza and the building anxiety of it. He’s hooked up to machines monitoring this that and the other, and he feels so nauseous, and he finds that even inhaling deep he feels breathless. Most of all his head is throbbing and he tentatively raises his hand to touch the back of his head and lets out an alarmed noise, fingertips meeting thick gauze.

The last time Everett cried he was nine. In an attempt to spite his father he’d pulled on a pair of his mother’s ridiculous towering heels only for him to trip and snap his ankle, it wasn’t the pain that set him crying but the burning shame and guilt of it all as he hobbled back to the house to return the shoes then pretended he had fallen from a tree. Nearly twice that age now his chest tightens around sobs and tears fall thick and heavy. Again, he doesn’t cry for the pain, only for the horrifying disorientation he feels, the confusion and uncertainty. Soon the heaving has him gagging and he grabs for one of the dishes on the table by his side so he doesn’t just vomit over himself, and even when his stomach is completely empty it still clenches and tries to force up its contents. Mouth and nose burning and the heady smell making him dizzy Everett can only blink open his eyes to see blood in his vomit. He laughs. He’s exhausted and scared and confused so he just laughs, not strong or jovial, but just because there’s little else he can do right now. He’s throwing up blood and everything hurts, especially his head, and he has no energy to anything except sit there and chuckle.

For the beginning of high school Hunter had been one of Everett’s closest friends. His ragtag middle school gang fell apart without the common interest of the swim team and the common enemy of the football team, but Hunter was new and exciting and Everett found he didn’t care so much. Naïve and trusting, he only came to know Hunter for who he really was when he offered Everett a cigarette which he soon came to realise was more than just tobacco. More than anything he wanted to impress his new friends and any attention he paid to academics withered to make time for the far more important pastime of getting stoned under the bleachers. Everett was not surprised when his debt to Hunter was called in, but this was more than just paying him back for the time he’d saved Everett from being caught by their teachers and Everett could only thank god that his life didn’t take the turn that Hunter’s did. That he’d cut all ties the night he found Blaine’s blood on Hunter’s fists and the word ‘fag’ on Hunter’s lips. Everett didn’t like Hunter for obvious reasons and the last thing he wanted to do was help his old friend out, but he made a promise to make it up to Hunter and Everett was nothing if not a man of his word.

A deal gone sour. Hunter had only been delivering a briefcase when the den was raided and he’d fled, was hiding out in the safe house but nobody else had turned up. Unable to deliver the goods he was stuck with the cops on his tail and his employers thinking he’d stolen from them. It was a mess and to make matters worse the briefcase was not filled with any kind of drug either of them had encountered before so they couldn’t just dump it and hope for the best, as Hunter had suggested, which left only the option of Everett smuggling fuck knows what out of the area without getting shot down by cops or pissed off gang members in the hopes that Hunter can return it to them. The only thing that Everett could even thing to do was to break the bastard’s nose. This was definitely not just holding weed for a friend to stop them from getting into trouble, Hunter was in serious shit and Everett had no choice but to make their score even.

If anything can go wrong, it will, Everett thinks as his fingers clench around the strap of his rucksack, trying his best to seem inconspicuous as he walks through broad daylight in a heavily populated area in possession of something potentially dangerous and no doubt extremely illegal. Once the police are off Hunter’s back he can let him get what he deserves and forget the shithead even exists. Fortunately everything goes smoothly, absolutely seamlessly, and Everett spots Hunter across the plaza through the crowd of people milling around with hair flying in the wind. Heart pounding relentlessly against his ribcage and ears buzzing over the chatter of people, Everett drops the bag by a group of people and asks one for directions to a bus station and he sees Hunter meandering along in the corner of his eye. Everett was very clear in his explanation that what happens after he drops the bag is nothing to do with him and that he would not get mixed up in any more of Hunter’s pathetic downward spiral of a life. As he walks away from the group of people he notices a cop, his paranoia amping up his fear, but it’s not paranoia that makes him see them closing in—too many to be casual—because other people are noticing too and Everett is frozen. His feet wont move and the buzzing in his ears grows louder and sluggishly he pivots without thinking to watch as a policeman goes to raise his gun and Hunter throws the rucksack at him, other officers are drawing their weapons but the bag splits and suddenly the powder is being carried through the air, there’s so much of it and it’s everywhere. A gun fires. Another. Everybody is starting to panic and Everett’s throat feels raw like he’s inhaled a load of dust, with many people from the crowd he surges towards the fountain to get a drink because it’s coated his throat and it’s chalky and making him gag. He drinks heavily but it’s not working, it doesn’t work and desperately he stands, people shoving and pushing around him equally as desperate for relief. Trying to call for help he just gags on his syllables and it doesn’t matter anyway, it wouldn’t have been heard over the shrieking of the crowd. Tousled by distressed people Everett tries to stay upright, tries to look for help but his eyes are burning and watering and he can’t see anything. His heel catches on the edge of the fountain and one last elbow to his ribs does it, he falls backwards and thinks maybe at least the water will stop his skin from itching but there is a crack, a crack he hears from inside his head it seems, and it seems pointless to try and stay conscious against the sudden wave of pain.

Everett wakes in short bursts. The room is bright and he hurts all over but when he manages to stay awake for more than just a few minutes he asks a nurse for his phone because he can’t even deny it, he’s terrified. His limbs tremor and his eyes burn with tears and he doesn’t know what happened or what’s wrong with him or where he is and he just wants Blaine. His phone has been disposed of, as have his clothes. He’s very lucky, apparently. Not everybody made it, apparently. Everett doesn’t know what she’s talking about so he just shakes his head and gives her Blaine’s number, he cares about nothing else, just that he needs his brother with him. She quizzes him on some details but he can’t remember a single thing and any words he would have are interrupted by the need to throw up. Thankfully she leaves him be, promises to call Blaine to the hospital, and he lets himself fall back into sleep.

• Everett: If i come back to food poisoning i will be displeased.
• Blaine: He's actually a really good cook.
• Everett: I'll believe it when his homemade sesame chicken is better than mine.

• Everett: Any amount of time is too long. When i get home i promise we'll just spend days in bed together until you're sweaty and exhausted and aching and then spend ages in a bath together.
• Everett: And we can talk to mom about getting a place.
• Blaine: Okay. I love that. That sounds great.
• Blaine: Kurt is actually making me dinner right now.
• Everett: If i come back to food poisoning i will be displeased.

• Everett: What i would give to feel your warm skin under my palm and hold you close and kiss you, pretty boy. I'm aching for it already.
• Blaine: I just really want you.. It's been only a day and it's too long. I miss you and how you feel.
• Everett: Any amount of time is too long. When i get home i promise we'll just spend days in bed together until you're sweaty and exhausted and aching and then spend ages in a bath together.
• Everett: And we can talk to mom about getting a place.

• Everett: I should have taken you with me.
• Everett: No. No i was right to go by myself but still, i wish i could have.
• Blaine: I wish you would've. I miss you.
• Blaine: I just want to be kissing you right now or at least next to you.
• Everett: What i would give to feel your warm skin under my palm and hold you close and kiss you, pretty boy. I'm aching for it already.

• Everett: No actually it's good to hear, but you do have friends besides kurt you know.
• Blaine: He's the only person I feel comfortable around when I'm like this.
• Everett: I should have taken you with me.
• Everett: No. No i was right to go by myself but still, i wish i could have.

• Blaine: I wish you were here. I want you.
• Everett: I'll be home soon, i promise.
• Blaine: Yeah. Well. I guess Kurt will do.. even though that sounds horrible.
• Everett: No actually it's good to hear, but you do have friends besides kurt you know.

• Everett: I know. Plus what's mine is yours.
• Blaine: I wish you were here. I want you.
• Everett: I'll be home soon, i promise.

• Everett: Not in my room i hope.
• Everett: But i'm glad you at least have somebody with you.
• Blaine: I sneak into your bed at night.
• Everett: I know. Plus what's mine is yours.

• Everett: Are you just going to stay at home with mom all day until i get back? That really doesn't sound like fun to me.
• Blaine: Kurt's been with me.
• Everett: Not in my room i hope.
• Everett: But i'm glad you at least have somebody with you.

• Everett: Hey i take offense to that, you have no reason to expect me to die, i've never died yet on an adventure. You just start enjoying your summer with your friends.
• Blaine: No.
• Everett: Are you just going to stay at home with mom all day until i get back? That really doesn't sound like fun to me.

• Blaine: This is a horrible way to start summer, Everett.
• Everett: I promised him i'd pay him back, i don't like this anymore than you do.
• Blaine: I meant for the both of us. I'm just glad you're alive.
• Everett: Hey i take offense to that, you have no reason to expect me to die, i've never died yet on an adventure. You just start enjoying your summer with your friends.

• Everett: This isn't like those times and i'm doing my best to avoid trouble. I know you so don't beat yourself up over this. After i'm done my debts are all paid and i wont be going anywhere.
• Blaine: This is a horrible way to start summer, Everett.
• Everett: I promised him i'd pay him back, i don't like this anymore than you do.

• Everett: You dont need to worry blaine. It's weird being without you but if you look after yourself i'll be back with you before you know it.
• Everett: An old friend who needed help getting out of a tough spot, i owed him a favor.
• Blaine: I am worrying. I know you.
• Blaine: I know what happens when you leave for awhile. It... I'm scared. God. The things you do to me, Ev. I trust you but that's not going to stop me from worrying. Please don't get hurt.
• Everett: This isn't like those times and i'm doing my best to avoid trouble. I know you so don't beat yourself up over this. After i'm done my debts are all paid and i wont be going anywhere.