*authors note*
okay, first of all, I AM SO SORRY I LEFT YOU SO LONG!!!!!!! I just had really bad writer's block and then I'd be like okay, I'll just procrastinate and it basically carried on like that for aaaaaggggges but anyway, I should warn you there's a character death in this chapter but y'know, please don't hate me??
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They say just before you die, life slows down. It's true, or at least, it was for Blaine. As the bullet sped towards him, it seemed as if it was barely moving. Jumping in front of Kurt felt like flying and, as the bullet inched its way towards him, it was as if every look, every touch he had shared with Kurt, flashed before his eyes, reminding him of why he was about to die and giving him courage.
He didn't feel his body hit the floor.
He didn't hear the other bullet escaping and hitting its victim with pinpoint accuracy.
He didn't even register any pain.
It was as if he was floating, and the only thing he could hear was an angel calling his name. It sounded beautiful, yet sad. He wanted to tell the angel he was fine, that they shouldn't cry, but he couldn't. Because the voice had disappeared, and Blaine was left alone, and everything had gone.
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Fluorescent coats moved around Kurt, appearing from the shadows. Lights were flooding the rooftop along with shouts from deep voices. People were talking urgently, trying to tell him something yet Kurt couldn't hear other his tears. He just wanted to lay clutching at Blaine's body forever.
Hands pulled at him and Kurt screamed, half from pain, half from fear. He didn't care what happened now. He was a murderer- he'd deserve whatever came next. Just like he did before; it was all his fault. Suddenly the grip on him became stronger, the brightly coated people pulling him forcefully away from Blaine. He screamed again, trying to fight them off- he needed to get back to Blaine. Yet slowly he was pulled out of the body's reach, and Kurt had to give in. And he did, falling into a darkness and all the time wishing Blaine would join him.
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Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Blurry background noise, creeping towards him in the darkness. A faint white light, it hovered like a magical orb in front of him and the boy couldn't help but be drawn to it. The next thing he felt was the pain, coursing through his body, get still rather dull.
He was present in his body, he just wasn't in control yet.
"-bad condition... possible amnesia from blows to the head.... yeah, got shot dead I heard, serves him right-"
The teenager stopped trying to eavesdrop, afraid of hearing something he wouldn't like. But he needed to know. He had to know if they had somehow saved him.
Slowly, he tried to regain control of his body. It was difficult; he could barely wiggle a finger yet alone get the doctor's attention. He tried again, wiggling the finger until it became easy and then trying another as well. Two eventually because four and soon enough, he was managing to clench his hand into a weak, and barely recognisable fist shape. He tried his other hand but stopped immediately, letting out a hiss of pain. He wouldn't be doing that again, it made him feel like he'd been run over by a bus.
The room was quiet now, safe for a few noises that he couldn't determine where they they were coming from. He guessed moving his hands took a lot more time than he'd originally thought. However, after succeeding in managing to move his hands without causing himself too much pain, the boy gingerly forced his eyes open, having to blink a few times to adjust to the light.
Looking about as well as he could without sitting up, the room appeared empty.
"Blaine?"
Blaine turned his head slightly, finally spotting the other person. Kurt sat up on pristine sheets, looking over at him and biting his lip.
"I-I'm so sorry," the pale boy continued, his eyes beginning to moisten from tears.
"Why?"
Suddenly, the door to the room opened and a woman in a nurses outfit walked in, holding a clipboard.
"Blaine! How are you? Are you in any pain?"
Blaine flinched at the loudness of the voice, this pulling on his shoulder and sending another wave of pain through him. He gritted his teeth.
"My- my shoulder hurts-"
It turned out it was difficult to talk when trying not to scream.
"Okay, that's expected, don't worry."
The woman walked over to his bed, checking the IV that stuck out of his arm. Blaine couldn't help but feel slightly uncomfortable at that; he'd never liked needles very much. Or hospitals since the last time. She fiddled with a few buttons, presumably adjusting the pain medication before turning back to Blaine.
"That should begin to take effect any time now, it might make you feel a bit sleepy though. Anyway, how are you feeling? Sick? And how's your vision?"
"'Mm fine- Kurt-"
The nurse looked over to the other bed and sighed. Blaine peered over too and was surprised to see Kurt apparently asleep. But that was impossible- he'd only been talking to him a few minutes ago.
"Poor dear, he hasn't said anything since he woke up, although I understand he didn't before as well. Physically, he's fine, all thanks to you, we're just worried about how he is mentally. Although I really shouldn't have told you that," the nurse said, blushing, "patient confidentiality and all- so pretend you didn't hear any of that.."
"Of course."
"Thanks, I only got the job here last week, I don't want to be fired just yet."
"Right," said Blaine, about to offer a dapper smile before he had to stifle a yawn. Suddenly, he felt like he was floating on a cushion again.
"Oh, that's probably the pain meds, I'll leave you to sleep. But if you need anything, just press this button."
The nurse left the room with a smile before Blaine could reply. The meds really were making it hard to keep his eyes open now but he still fought against it, rolling onto his good side and meeting Kurt's eyes.
"Kurt, I-"
And then he was asleep.
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Kurt watched as Blaine's eyes fell shut and the other boy started to snore, a result of him laying at an odd angle. Though Kurt would have thought so, it didn't bother him, in fact, at the very back of his mind he may have even admitted it was cute.
Immediately, Kurt felt guilty for having thought this; it had been him who'd put Blaine in here, that wasn't cute. Hell, he'd nearly killed him according to the nurses. Of course, they didn't actually say it was his fault, but the blood loss and shock didn't come from Blaine's free will. No, it had been him who'd put Blaine in that position, and therefore it was his fault.
Honestly he was surprised Blaine hadn't ignored him altogether. Unless he was only trying to talk to him to make sure he understood how much pain he had caused him. Kurt doubted this though, even if only slightly. Blaine had saved his life right? He didn't have to- he could have just let him die.
But a voice in the back of Kurt's head would argue he only did it because he didn't want to be next, after all, Karofsky definitely had enough bullets for the both of them, Blaine stood much more chance of being hit in a less dangerous place if he was moving.
"Kurt? Are you awake?"
Kurt lay still as he heard his father walk in, debating whether he should continue pretending to be asleep or not. He was kind of scared how his father might react, but in the end decided he was more afraid of his fad having another heart attack so, quietly as to not wake Blaine, he stirred himself and sat up.
"Kurt! How are you kiddo? When I heard you'd nearly been shot-"
Burt had to choke back a sob at the thought of losing his son. After losing Elizabeth, he didn't think he could bear Kurt dying, especially after Karofsky had come so close last time. To be honest, ever since he heard the gunshots he'd been trying not to cry, only allowing himself to when he was at home with Carole by his side. He couldn't let Kurt see him cry; it wouldn't be fair.
"Anyway, how are you buddy?"
Kurt raised his eyebrows, nodding towards his chest which was wrapped tight in bandages. Apparently he had around four broken ribs, along with quite a few bruised as well. His throat was also covered in a handshaped bruise, although the doctors couldn't say whether it had damaged it until he talked. Which, with the possible exception of one person, he refused to do.
"Yeah, but how are you feeling? I can call a doctor? Are you hurting at all? I just- I want you to get better," said Burt reaching out a hand to rest on Kurt's leg.
Kurt, out of instinct, reacted immediately, flinching more violently than Burt had ever seen before. Burt removed his arm straight away, biting back tears; Karofsky had obviously hurt Kurt in ways Burt couldn't imagine. The fear in his boy's eyes was one he knew he'd never be able to forget.
Seeing Burt wince, Kurt offered a smile as a form of apology but it felt more like a grimace. Honestly, he just wanted to be left alone.
"Um, Kurt, there's-there's something I need to tell you. There's an inquiry.. to what happened. The police- they're going to eventually want a statement from you, from both of you-" he nodded to Blaine, "-to find out what happened. They won't take it until you're ready but, well, they're gonna want it soon."
Kurt didn't reply, his face void of emotion.
"Kurt?"
The boy looked up at his dad before faking a large yawn, he needed to be left alone right now.
"Right- I guess you're kinda tired? Okay, I'll leave you alone then buddy- but promise me something? Don't keep shutting everyone out? Please? I love you kiddo."
Kurt simply closed his eyes. He didn't fall asleep until about three hours later though, too busy thinking about his father's words.
When he next awoke, for a moment, he wasn't sure where he was. Everything was dark, the sheets were too stiff and for some reason, he was wearing a gown. And for a moment, he felt like before everything had happened: at Dalton, smiling as he and Blaine watched films on his tv.
Then he remembered, and the feeling was lost.
A quiet beeping noise filled the the otherwise silent room, making Kurt's pulse loudly audible. However, over this was another, slightly faster than his. Kurt guessed this was Blaine's.
Blaine.
Blaine with the bullet wound.
Blaine who was injured because of him.
Blaine that had nearly died in order to save him.
Blaine.
When Kurt had first gone to Dalton, he'd never planned to let anyone get close. With Karofsky about, it would have been dangerous, for both of them. Besides, who would want to be friends with someone who wouldn't even talk to them?
Yet, to Blaine, this had never seemed to matter.
He had broken through Kurt's walls; he'd done the impossible. Never complaining,never giving up.. he'd given Kurt hope. And because of this, he was in a hospital bed. If Kurt could take all Blaine's pain and make the past never happen, he would. But he couldn't, so he'd do the next best thing. He'd stop himself from causing Blaine any future pain, no matter how hard it would be.
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Burt sat in the waiting room, still awake despite the hour. Visiting hours were over yet Burt had refused to leave no matter how hard Carole had tried to persuade him otherwise; he wasn't going to leave Kurt alone in a hospital after the last time anyone had had to stay overnight was Elizabeth.
He wasn't completely alone though. Cooper slept in the chair next to him whilst his dad did the same the other side. There had been an argument between at first about this, Blaine's father trying to make Cooper go home and sleep there. Of course, Cooper had refused saying if he made him leave, he'd just sleep in his car outside. This had resulted in a loud squabble, eventually ending with Cooper storming off to visit Blaine. Eventually, Cooper had got his way though, and had been allowed to stay. Not that his father had any choice in this however, Cooper was over eighteen after all.
Burt sighed as he opened his eyes, annoyed sleep wouldn't come. It would be nice to escape his problems for a while- plus, as Kurt would've reminded him, he had to look after his heart.
The doctors hadn't been able to tell him much about what had happened, only able to guess from the injuries. Kurt refused to say anything, not that Burt blamed him, and Blaine had been to out of it to say anything. Besides, he hadn't wanted to force them into talking about what happened until they were ready.
Instead, he'd found his answers through a police officer who was first one scene, or something like that. The man had originally resisted telling him, but when Burt had told him his son was one of the boys involved, he had relented.
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It hadn't been long since he had joined the force, a few months at a push which was nothing compared to some of his friends experience. Tony had been with the police for about three decades and even the dogs seemed like they had had more exposure to the work than he had had. They seemed a hell of a lot more confident too. It was this that made him confused him when he got the order to go to a school- was it Dalton academy?- because of a man holding two kids hostage on a rooftop.
Although it was rare for a situation like this to arise, he did have some training on it. Usually, the gunman would make some demands- usually money or something like that- and they'd end up letting the hostages go in the end. Of course, some people were hard to convince and people were often killed, but Tony would be damned if he let that happen. Especially to a child. That was why the police had accepted him actually, because he had a passion like a fire.
Within seconds of getting the call, Tony was bundled into one of the many police cars, this time an unnamed one to avoid spooking the shooter, and was driven to the school. Thankfully the police force was centered in Westerville, but it still took a good ten minutes. A good ten minutes that could be the last for the hostages very easily.
Tony bit his lip and silently urged the vehicle to go faster though he knew this was impossible; they were already breaking the speed limit.
On the way, he was given orders so as not to waste time when they got there.
"Shoot if necessary, we can't let those boys get killed. I repeat, shoot if necessary."
He might have to end a life tonight.
"The target's already shot two, maybe three times already. He has a limited amount of bullets left yet he still has enough to kill both the hostages."
The gunman wasn't even referred to as a person now, simply a target. Tony wondered if this was to make it easier in whoever had to shoot him.
He tuned out the next few sentences, only picking up key bits of information.
"...short range...handgun....Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson.... possible death already.."
Suddenly Tony had a lot less of a problem with this guy getting shot.
After that, everything seemed like a blur. It was moving too fast, yet not fast enough to get the boys out of the situation. Of course, he couldn't admit that as he needed to remain professional for everyone else's sake, but you could tell if you looked him properly in the eyes.
The most distinct memory he had of arriving was a man, one he'd soon learn to be Burt Hummel, grabbing his arm and just telling him to 'save his boy.' Tony hadn't known how to react and had eventually been shuffled off by his superiors. Because what could he have said? 'I'm sorry sir, but we don't even know if your kid's still alive' ??
After that he was made to climb up to a rooftop nearly adjacent to the one which held the hostages. He was the smallest out of the team that had gathered and therefore he had less chance of getting spotted by the gunman. That of course made him feel completely safe going up there, note the sarcasm. Still, someone needed to be there. Howard and Kate would watch the ladder that lead up to the roof so they could catch the gunman if he tried to escape that way whilst another pair Tony didn't know would perform a search of the grounds to make sure there weren't any others. The rest of the group would split in two, half going up through the building to try and find a way to the rooftop through that so they could get the boys down quicker and take down their target without them jumping, as a few had done before. They had nothing to lose after all.
The other group was to guard the crowd forming outside, form a way for the ambulances ect. Not that they were expecting a need for them except to treat the hostages for shock.
"Tony? You okay man?"
"Yeah- yeah."
"Okay, good luck with the climbing.."
"Yeah.."
He knew this was code for 'get the heck up , what are you waiting for?' but it was nice to pretend. But he knew he should get up there. And so he did.
It was a nice view from the top, at least, it would be if it wasn't so dark; in fact, he could barely make out the figures on the roof he was watching. One dark shape was on their feet, he was tall, yet slightly wide, although Tony guessed most of it was muscle. His movements were wild, his feet kicking out madly, and Tony gasped as he realised his feet were actually colliding with something. Someone. The screams and gasps travelled far in the darkness.
Wait, didn't someone say he had two hostages? Immediately, Tony performed a mental sweep of the area, looking for another body. Tony hated thinking that, a body made them sound dead. Yet as his eyes laid to rest on an unmoving shape which could be mistaken for an oddly shaped rock, he couldn't help but think body was the best word for it.
Within seconds, Tony's gun was in his hand, lining up for the kill. He knew they were supposed to bring him in for questioning, but didn't someone say something about shooting if one of the hostages were in danger? A scream rang out through the night. Yep, this definitely qualified.
Suddenly the body behind the gunman began to stir, eventually managing to get to his feet, unbeknownst to the shooter. Silently, Tony shouted at the kid to get away, to do what any normal kid would do. But this one seemed intent on saving the other and crept forward instead of away.
As he did so, Tony felt a change in the atmosphere. It was more tense, and way too quiet. Eerily quiet.
Then everything started moving way to fast. The shooter raised his gun for the kill, aiming and knowing he couldn't miss: there was a gap between the of only a metre or so. Yet at the same time the other hostage jumped in front of him and the bullet seemed to hit him instead. The gunman's curse could be heard clearly before he raised his gun again to shoot the other boy but already Tony was pulling his own trigger, hitting the target with pinpoint accuracy. He died in seconds, Tony's more barbaric side wishing he had shot just slightly right so his passing wouldn't be so painless.
Of course, then he'd probably lose his job so it was most likely best that he didn't.
The next thing that happened was police officers and paramedics rushing onto the scene, going straight over to the hostage who was hugging the body. Tony wondered if they'd been close, they must have been for him to save the other like that.
Eventually, the paramedics pulled the boy away, sedating him as he suddenly collapsed, maybe from pain from the beating. The other paramedics were working on the boy he'd not been able to save; the hero that had saved the other. All of them completely ignored the shooter's body.
A few hours later, Tony would find out both of the hostages had survived from the man that had grabbed him earlier, but for now, he just turned away feeling completely despairing and melancholy, knowing it had been his fault the other hadn't survived. Knowing he should have shot earlier.