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That Blaine was a rather unconventional senator wasn’t news to anybody, least of all his employees. That he was lying under his desk staring up at it so he could put his thoughts in order? That was a new one even for him.
But lying under his desk he was, trying to sort through the many thoughts that were vying for his attention. Most of them were of a political nature. Now that his greatest accomplishment had been achieved - and as predicted, President Mitchell didn't veto the bill - Blaine had started to put his focus on his re-election campaign. Oh, he still had a lot of issues from home to deal with, but the campaigning took most of the time that was left.
And then there was Kurt, of course.
Blaine couldn’t get the accidentally uttered words out of his mind. The morning after the party, Kurt had pretended as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, so Blaine had let him be. What else was he supposed to do, really? He respected Kurt and his wishes, so he didn’t bring it up again.
But he still remembered it. Even six weeks after the words had been uttered, they were as fresh in his mind as if they’d been spoken yesterday. And the knowledge that Kurt was apparently so lonely it had become normal for him - it hurt in a way that Blaine was unprepared for.
Hence him hiding under his desk, trying to sort out his thoughts. And of course, as it was with these things, the subject of his musings decided to pop in unannounced and catch him in his (admittedly silly) endeavor to reach enlightenment.
“What are you doing?” came Kurt’s laughing voice from the door, startling Blaine a little. He didn’t move though, even though he must’ve presented quite a view: the upper part of his body completely out of sight, while only his legs stuck out from under his desk between the two visitor’s chairs. But now that Kurt had seen his undignified sprawl, there wasn’t much point in trying to scramble back up into his seat. And anyway, he’d made a fool of himself in front of the other man so many times during their acquaintance, that there really wasn’t much dignity left to lose anyway.
“Can’t a man hide from his thoughts and fears once in a while?” Blaine replied while crossing his ankles, his tone relaxed.
“Not if you’re a U.S. Senator,” Kurt shot back, though he still sounded amused. Blaine heard him move around the office, and a moment later Kurt’s legs appeared in his line of sight, quickly followed by Kurt’s face when he crouched down. It was obvious that he was fighting a losing battle with a smile.
“So what has you so scared that you’re hiding under the desk?” Kurt asked, folding his arms to put them on his thighs.
Blaine wanted to tell him. He wanted to tell Kurt that his words were still floating around in Blaine’s head and made him sad. He wanted to offer his help, or if not that then at least his company. But he couldn’t tell Kurt any of those things, because the man had made it clear he wanted to forget that the whole thing ever happened. So instead Blaine shrugged, stared back up at the wooden underside of his desk and replied, “Just trying to get my speech to sound right. The fundraiser’s in three days.”
It wasn’t necessarily a lie; when he wasn’t thinking about Kurt, he really was sounding out bits and pieces for the speech he was supposed to hold in front of a few hundred people, hoping to get funding for his re-election campaign.
Kurt nodded as if Blaine didn’t need to say more, that he understood perfectly. “You want to run it by me?” he offered, cocking his head encouragingly.
Blaine shook his head. “No, I think I got it.”
“So you’re just admiring the wood texture now?”
Blaine snorted. “Something like that.”
They fell silent, but it was companionable. For the first time ever since the party, Blaine felt no need to fill the silence. He was glad; he’d missed the easy camaraderie that had always existed between the two of them.
The silence was interrupted when the phone on Kurt’s desk started to ring. Kurt uncurled from his crouched position and quipped, “Looks like your reprieve is over, sir.”
Blaine sighed, but started to worm his way back out from under his desk while Kurt leaned over it to transfer the call directly to Blaine’s phone. “Senator Anderson’s office, Kurt Hummel speaking. How may I h--Carole!”
Blaine looked up when he heard Kurt’s surprised exclamation. He was reasonably sure that Carole was Kurt’s stepmother, unless there was a new addition to someone’s writing pool somewhere here in Washington. Knowing it wasn’t anything that needed his immediate attention, he turned around to roll his chair back into place.
“What?”
The word was so quiet; quiet and hollow and so broken that it raised the hairs on the back of Blaine’s neck and he looked up in alarm. He did it just in time to see Kurt turn white as a sheet. Blaine had always thought it was just an expression, that nobody could actually turn white from one moment to the next, but Kurt was the living proof that he’d been wrong. He looked like he was ready to keel over.
Blaine didn’t even think. He rushed around his desk and grabbed Kurt’s elbow at the exact moment that Kurt’s knees gave out. “Kurt?” he asked in concern and guided him to one of the guest chairs. His gut was tightening painfully at the panicked look in Kurt’s otherwise deathly pale face. But Kurt didn’t seem to hear him, didn’t even seem to know where he was right now. All his attention was on the woman on the other end of the line.
“How... when... where... how,” he stammered into the receiver, seemingly unable to find the right words to form a complete sentence. He was starting to shake, his hand barely able to hold on to the phone.
Blaine didn’t want to leave him alone, not even for a second, but it was obvious that something terrible had happened. So he squeezed Kurt’s arm reassuringly, then hurried out of his office and, after taking a quick look around, grabbed one of the interns. “Get me Wes or David. Now!”
She looked a little spooked, but nodded immediately and went over to her phone. Blaine didn’t wait to hear what she was saying, he hurried back into his office and back to Kurt’s side. He was still clutching the phone, but his eyes were closed tight now and he was rubbing his forehead.
“I... I’ll try to... yes,” Blaine heard him say, his voice oddly hollow and lifeless. It scared Blaine like nothing else ever had. He sank down to his knees next to Kurt, raising his hand to squeeze Kurt’s arm soothingly while the man took deep, measured breaths and nodded at nobody in particular.
“Yes,” he mumbled into the phone, then, “Are you sure?” There was another pause before he nodded again and whispered, “Yes. Yes, okay.”
He sat frozen in his seat for a long moment, then let the receiver slowly sink into his lap. Blaine carefully pried it out of his clammy fingers to put it back where it belonged. He turned back around immediately, taking both of Kurt’s hands between his own and rubbed them absently. They were so cold.
“Kurt?” he asked quietly, his voice full of concern. It seemed to penetrate whatever wall had risen up around Kurt when he’d received the call, because he looked up and into Blaine’s face. He looked shattered.
Blaine swallowed hard. “What happened?”
Kurt opened his mouth, but nothing came out. There was just absolute silence, and it frightened Blaine. But then Kurt swallowed, his throat clicking with the effort, and he rasped out, “My dad had a heart attack.”
Everything seemed to just... stop for a moment. Blaine didn’t see or hear or feel anything but Kurt for an endless seeming second while the words sank in. When they’d finally settled into his mind, he felt a jolt of something go through his body and he squeezed Kurt’s hands in reflex.
“Is he okay?” he asked, breathless and helpless and scared.
Kurt was obviously in shock. He was shaking his head, then looked down at their entwined hands as if he’d never seen his own hands before, much less Blaine’s; as if the context of them being together in his lap didn’t make any sense to him right now.
“He’s in surgery,” Kurt finally got out, still lost for words. “They... they’re not sure if he’ll make it.”
That’s when the shaking started for real, when the shock that had helped Kurt through the call relinquished its hold on his body and he crashed from the adrenaline rush. Suddenly he had trouble breathing and painful, wounded sounds left his mouth. Blaine didn’t even think, didn’t even question his actions. He just jumped up and pulled Kurt into a crushing hug. He was relieved when Kurt didn’t resist, just slung his arms around Blaine’s waist and held on like his life depended on it. The shaking got worse, and Blaine expected to hear sobs any second now, but there was just painful silence from Kurt.
“I have to... have to go,” Kurt stammered into Blaine’s chest, his words barely legible. He sounded so lost and unsure and it broke Blaine’s heart to hear Kurt like this. His grip tightened without his conscious decision.
“Shh,” Blaine soothed him, blinking rapidly to stave off the threat of tears. “Of course you have to go, Kurt, that’s not even an issue. Don’t worry about it.”
He saw movement from the corner of his eye and looked over to the door and directly into Wes’ surprised face. He took one look at Kurt’s shaking form in Blaine’s arms and his surprise morphed into immediate concern.
“Can you book a flight back to Columbus on the next available one out?” Blaine asked quietly, not letting go of Kurt. “And a car service back to Lima?”
“Sure,” Wes said without hesitation, reaching for his cell phone. He hesitated for a second, then asked quietly, “What’s going on?”
“It’s Kurt’s dad,” was all Blaine needed to say.
Wes’ face fell and he whispered a heartfelt, “Shit!” before he turned around, his phone already pressed to his ear while he talked quickly to someone on the other end.
Blaine’s attention went back to Kurt immediately. His breathing seemed to have calmed down a little, but he was still clinging to Blaine and shook like a leaf.
“We’ll get you home in time, Kurt,” Blaine whispered, his hand automatically reaching up to card through Kurt’s hair. On any other day, he never would’ve dared to touch the immaculately done up coiffure, but this was not an ordinary day and Blaine didn’t think that Kurt would mind. And Blaine wanted to comfort him in any way he could, wanted to calm him down and show him that he wasn’t alone even if Burt wasn’t going to be fine.
“I promise, Kurt,” he continued in the same quiet, soothing voice as before. “We’ll get you home, and you’re going to see him again. You’re going to see him.” He couldn’t promise Kurt that everything would be okay. He wished he could, but he’d never been the kind of person to promise things he wasn’t able to keep, and he didn’t think that Kurt would appreciate empty phrases right now.
He was proven right when Kurt’s grip on his waist tightened even further and his breathing started to sound suspiciously like choked off sobs. But Kurt didn’t let go, didn’t push Blaine away. He let himself be comforted in the only way possible right now. It was enough, had to be enough for the moment.
Blaine closed his eyes, ran his hand through Kurt’s hair and didn’t stop whispering to him. And when Wes came back to let them know that Kurt’s ride to the airport was here, Blaine allowed himself one tiny, soothing kiss to Kurt’s temple before he let him go.