Summary: Zach wasn't kidding when he said he prepared some extra challenging new choreography for Blaine and Kurt's latest duet on Glee. Chris might have actually enjoyed learning the dance if it wasn't for the nagging sore throat, cough, and fever that kept creeping up on him. After a particularly long day of dance rehearsal, Chris collapses on set, leaving a very worried Darren to take care of him and pray that he's okay. But maybe almost losing Chris is what it takes for Darren to see the truth of his relationship with Chris? Criss/Colfer RPF, Chris Colfer Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, & Eventually Romance.
Warnings: Character Injury, Discussion of Medical Procedures, Sexual Banter in Later Chapters
Spoiler Alert: Takes place in mid-July of 2011 as actors have just come back to set to begin filming Season 3 of Glee, Alludes to events that took place during Glee Live Tour during June 2011
Author's Notes: I finally decided to go ahead and post this story that I've been working on over at LJ (username: sarahannmac if you want to check it out). I'm obsessed with Klaine and love writing for Kurt and Blaine. But I'm also loving the friendship and the hints at "something more" as a result of the palpable chemistry and mutual admiration between Chris Colfer and Darren Criss on-screen and off. I'm sure you've probably seen the Klaine skit from Glee Live in Dublin with the unscripted kiss between Darren and Chris (and if you haven't, you should YouTube it immediately). Well, that got my imagination flowing and this story just wouldn't get out of my head. This is my first attempt at Chris/Darren RPF and actually my first attempt at RPF of any kind, so please go easy on me. Hopefully it won't be awful... I definitely welcome any constructive criticism you can give me.
Chris sighed as the twang of the ukelele started up, signaling the beginning of what was at least his tenth rehearsal of the complicated choreography for a duet with Darren set to Jason Mraz's "I'm Yours." It was nearing 7:30 pm and Chris had arrived on set at 5 AM this morning to begin hair and makeup for his long day of shooting and was currently exhausted and feeling miserable.
He'd filmed two dialogue scenes before lunch, one with his on-screen dad Mike O'Malley and another with Darren. By lunchtime, all he'd wanted was a nap and so while the rest of the cast happily chowed down on craft services, gossiping about the upcoming Emmy nominations and their plans for the weekend, Chris had begged off, grabbing a smoothie before retiring to his trailer for an all-too-brief nap. The nagging headache and raw, scratchy throat he'd discovered upon waking up this morning seemed to be growing with each passing hour, and the mere thought of swallowing the nachos that the rest of the cast was scarfing down made his stomach churn and his throat throb. Chris sighed heavily as he slid the door to his trailer closed and slumped onto the small futon couch that he and Darren shared. Depending on their shooting and rehearsal schedules, they sometimes slept in shifts, taking turns stretching out on the futon and sometimes found themselves so exhausted that they fell asleep tangled together on the small couch, often with Chris resting his head in Darren's lap while Darren read scripts or jotted down lyrics to his next original song and absentmindedly played with Chris's hair. Chris always relished those quiet moments together. While he and Darren were admittedly only friends, they shared a physical intimacy that Chris had rarely experienced with another male, gay or straight. Chris knew how comfortable Darren was with his sexuality, but also couldn't help but feeling as if the chemistry they shared on screen and on tour wasn't entirely acting, as he often felt the sparks when they were alone and sharing a quiet moment cuddling on the couch or strolling around the deserted set arm-in-arm. As much as Chris cherished those quiet moments that he spent physically and emotionally close to Darren, he found himself relieved today that for once that he was alone.
Chris managed to sit up long enough to reach into a drawer next to the futon and rummage around until he found a half empty bottle of DayQuil. He was desperate for any medication that might provide even temporary relief from the pounding headache and searing ache in his throat. Without bothering to check the correct dosage, Chris brought the bottle of DayQuil to his lips, swigging a large mouthful straight from the bottle. He grimaced at the sickly sweet aftertaste and quickly chased the medication with a long sip of his blueberry smoothie, sighing in relief at the feel of the icy cool liquid against his burning throat. He carelessly dropped the half empty bottle of DayQuil and half-finished smoothie to the coffee table in front of him and stretched out on the futon, his eyes closing as soon as they made contact with the throw pillow. As Chris drifted off into a fitful, dreamless sleep, he realized he hadn't even managed to take off his shoes or uncomfortably starched costume blazer. "Oh well," he mumbled to himself. Lou could always yell at him later, but for now, he didn't have the energy to even care.
Not five minutes later, Darren slipped quietly into the trailer he shared with Chris, noticing immediately that Chris was sprawled haphazardly across the futon, still fully dressed in his now rumpled costume from the scene that they'd shared just before lunch. Darren quickly took in the melted and half-full smoothie on the coffee table that was the only thing he'd seen Chris eat or drink all day as well as the open and half empty bottle of DayQuil, confirming his suspicions that Chris was sick. Darren first noticed that Chris had been uncharacteristically quiet in the hair and makeup trailer this morning. Granted, they'd started hair and makeup quite early and Darren had no doubt that Chris had gotten very little sleep the night before, but Chris usually was quite the chatterbox in the morning, always loving to gossip with Eryn, Melissa, Janis and all the other hair and makeup staff.
Later, as they were filming their scene together just before lunchtime, Darren noticed that Chris's voice sounded a bit rough and hoarse and he visibly winced several times when swallowing. Darren tried asking Chris if he was getting sick, but Chris had waved off his concerns irritably. Chris took great pride in his work ethic and never complained about the long hours, illnesses, and injuries that were part of being on the show and touring with Glee Live. Chris's motto was that if you didn't acknowledge an illness, you couldn't actually be sick. This attitude had worried and frustrated Darren on a number of occasions as it meant that Chris was absolutely terrible at taking care of himself, and even worse at letting other people take care of him when he was sick or hurt. As Darren reached down to gently feel Chris's forehead, wincing at unnatural heat radiating from Chris's skin, he thought back to the first time he'd truly understood just how tough Chris was after witnessing Chris become violently ill with food poisoning after eating a particularly dodgy hot dog from a truck stop gas station in East Rutherford, New Jersey.
FLASHBACK – JUNE 16TH – GLEE LIVE TOUR - EAST RUTHERFORD, NJ
Chris had spent the entire night lying helplessly on the bathroom floor in their shared hotel room, trying to sleep in between bouts of projectile vomiting. Darren felt awful for him and tried to comfort him as best he could by bringing him water, placing cool washcloths on his forehead, and rubbing his back gently as he threw up again and again. Darren had insisted that Chris see the hotel doctor the next morning, threatening to call their choreographer Zach if necessary to force Chris to seek medical attention. Chris had finally relented and allowed the hotel doctor to come to their hotel room to examine him. The doctor determined that Chris had a bad case of food poisoning that was worsened by exhaustion, a fever of 102, and severe dehydration. He'd ended up setting Chris up with an IV drip in their hotel room to get some fluids into him and given him injections of medications for fever and nausea. He'd strongly recommended at least 24-48 hours of bed rest and had given Darren strict instructions to monitor Chris's fluid intake and temperature, encouraging Darren to page him if Chris started vomiting again or seemed to be getting worse in any way.
Darren had been relieved when the medications that the doctor administered finally started to kick in, allowing Chris to stop vomiting and sleep peacefully for the first time since he'd first fallen ill almost 24 hours ago. Once Darren was sure that Chris was resting comfortably, he'd decided to take a shower as he needed to prepare for their Glee Live performance in East Rutherford, NJ that evening, even though the thought of leaving Chris alone in the hotel while the rest of the cast went to their performance made Darren dizzy with worry. He'd climbed out of the shower, humming to himself and was surprised to see that Chris was not only awake, but that he'd removed the IV line from his hand and was putting together a bag with his tour costumes and assorted props, clearly planning to not only get out of bed, but also to perform in the show that same night. This ludicrous disregard for his own health and safety had led Darren and Chris to having a very rare fight which Darren unfortunately lost. He shook his head at the memory of how he'd felt as he watched Chris sing and dance with an unwavering enthusiasm that belied his current physical state before nearly collapsing once he exited the stage after their final number. Darren had taken one look at Chris and scooped him up into his arms despite Chris's protests, carrying him to the tour bus that was waiting to take the cast to their hotel at the next tour stop. By the time they'd reached the bus, Chris's protests had died down and he'd sagged into Darren, burying his face in Darren's shoulder while resting his head against Darren's neck. Darren continued to hold Chris's shivering body in his arms even once they were seated on the bus, rocking him gently until he fell asleep, utterly exhausted, in Darren's arms.
Chris had slept hard and fast as they rode through the dark night to the hotel for their next tour stop in Long Island, NY. When they'd finally reached their hotel for the night, Darren simply took Chris in his arms once again, carrying him through the hotel lobby and up to their shared hotel room. He'd undressed Chris in the dim light of the distant New York skyline which they could see from the spectacular view from their hotel room window high up on the 32nd floor. Darren easily removed Chris's bright blue Glee Live bomber jacket and henley tee, but struggled to slide Chris's tight-fitting skinny jeans from his lean legs. He finally managed to slide them off, revealing surprisingly simply heather gray boxer briefs by Calvin Klein which Darren couldn't help noticing were quite flattering against Chris's lean, newly muscled torso and shapely butt, hips, and thighs. Darren blushed slightly, ashamed at himself for ogling his ill, semi-conscious best friend.
He'd left Chris's bags on the tour bus since he wasn't able to carry Chris and his bags simultaneously, meaning that he didn't have any of Chris's clothing handy. Darren rummaged around in his small backpack which was the source of frequent mocking by Chris who was utterly amazed that Darren had packed so little for a two month, 40-plus location international tour. Darren was due for another laundromat stop so the best he could find for Chris to wear was a large, well-worn StarKid Potter T-shirt that Darren had slept in the night before. Darren sniffed it experimentally, deciding that it was clean enough to do for now. Darren placed a hand behind Chris's neck, gently lifting his head enough to slide the neck of the t-shirt over Chris's warm forehead. Next, he carefully took Chris's hand in his and fed it through the armhole of the t-shirt. Once he'd slipped both of Chris's arms through the armholes, he again slid his hand behind Chris's neck and back, lifting him slightly while his other hand gently trailed down Chris's chest and torso as he tugged down the hem of the t-shirt.
He gently lowered Chris's head back against the pillow, reaching up to brush a lock of hair that had fallen over Chris's eye back to his temple. Darren noted that Chris felt warm to the touch and that he was most likely was running a fever again from the stress he'd put his body through in the last 24 hours. Darren sighed in frustration at Chris's stubbornness, deciding to leave Chris in just his t-shirt and boxers so as not to overheat him, covering him with the sheet and light blanket, but leaving the heavy down duvet at Chris's feet. Darren placed a gentle kiss to Chris's temple before standing up and stretching his sore and aching muscles and reaching into his backpack again, choosing a mostly clean ribbed thermal henley tee and pair of plaid flannel pajama pants and dressing quickly for bed. Darren was exhausted as well from the long day of travel and performing and the even longer night before of sitting on the bathroom floor trying to care for Chris and worrying constantly about his physical state. Darren knew he should climb right into the queen sized bed next to Chris's and close his eyes since the alarm clock on the bedside table already read 3:04 am. Instead, Darren sat down on the edge of Chris's bed, placing a gentle hand to Chris's chest, finding the sensation of the rise and fall of Chris's chest with his even breathing to be incredibly soothing and reassuring. Darren's other hand went to Chris's hair, gently running his fingers through Chris's silky smooth locks again and again as he had so many times before while Chris napped in his lap between rehearsals in their shared trailer on set or on long drives on the Glee Live tour bus.
Darren remained there for several minutes, hypnotized by the feel and sound of Chris's slow, even breathing. Suddenly, the honk of a car outside the window on the street below startled Darren out of his hypnotic state and he reluctantly withdrew his hands from Chris's chest and hair and rose to climb into his bed. Just as he was standing, Chris's hand clutched his wrist out of nowhere. Darren's eyes flew to Chris's face, not realizing that Chris had been awake, blushing slightly at the thought of Chris knowing that Darren had just watched him sleep for well over ten minutes.
"Darren? Where are you going?" Chris asked sleepily.
"Hey Chris, how you feeling? I was just going to get in bed. It's late. Go back to sleep, hon. You need to rest." Darren answered gently, his voice low and soft in the darkness of their room.
"Mmhhmm, Darren. Don't go. Stay. I want you to." Chris said meekly, wanting, no needing, the feel of Darren's strong arms around him.
That was all the invitation Darren needed as he wanted nothing more to sleep next to Chris, to feel the warmth of his body, to sense Chris's soft breath against his cheek, and most of all to be able to truly hold Chris in his arms if only to reassure himself that Chris was going to be okay after the overwhelming worry of the last day. Without a word, Chris scooted over, making a space for Darren. Darren slid seamlessly beneath the covers next to Chris, continuing to scoot over until his body made contact with Chris's in the dark. He reached over and gently directed Chris's head to rest against his chest, with Chris's ear pressed to Darren's chest so that he could hear his heart beating a steady, peaceful rhythm. Darren wrapped his arm around Chris's torso, sliding his hand just under the hem of Chris's borrowed shirt to gently rub Chris's bare back. Chris sighed at the soothing sensation of being wrapped in Darren's arms, at being physically possessed by Darren in such an immediate way. Darren felt his body truly relax for the first time in the last 24 hours as he listened to Chris's slow and steady breaths. He was just on the edge of consciousness and nearing sleep when he heard Chris's voice in the dark, so soft as to be almost undetectable at first.
"Darren? Thank you for taking care of me. And thank you even more for not saying I told you so." Chris whispered gratefully.
Darren was silent for a moment, and Chris wondered if he was already asleep. But then Darren's voice rang out in the dark, still low and hushed, but with a surprisingly biting undercurrent of emotion still managing to make itself know in the intensity with which he spoke each word.
"Chris? I'll make you a deal. I won't say I told you so if you promise that you'll never do that to me again, okay?"
Chris was silent for a moment, unsure as to how to respond to Darren's request. "Darren, I...I just..."
Chris was cut off by Darren, his voice stronger and more insistent this time. "No, Chris. You don't get it... I don't think you know how much I worry about you. And I know how strong you are and that you want to show everyone that you can take care of yourself. But not with me, you don't need to put up that front with me. I know you are fully capable of taking care of yourself 99% of the time, but there's nothing wrong with being taken care of every once in awhile, okay? If you won't take care of yourself for your own sake, then at least do it for me, because it is physically and emotionally tortuous for me to see you sick or hurt or suffering in any way and not be able to help or fix it. When you nearly passed out backstage tonight, Chris, I almost lost it. I've never felt so helpless in my life. So please, don't do that to me again, okay?" Darren finished, his last words harsh from the lump forming in his throat that was threatening to rise up and spill his unshed tears.
Chris was silent for several seconds, feeling a hot tear slide down his cheek in the dark at the raw emotion he felt pouring from every inch of Darren's body. Darren's words made a lot of sense and for the first time, Chris put himself in Darren's shoes and thought about he would have felt watching Darren fall so ill while still insisting on performing to the brink of blacking out. The mere visual image was enough to make him feel sick as a cold pit of dread invaded his stomach. Waves of guilt washed over him as he finally realized the hell he'd put Darren through in the past 24 hours.
"Darren, I'm so sorry. I didn't think...I didn't know that it would be so hard on you. I didn't mean to scare you, I just..." Chris trailed off, his thoughts racing while his words came out jumbled and his tongue slipped over phrase after phrase, rejecting them as cliched or cheesy.
"Shh," Darren soothed, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Chris's head. "It's okay. I know you didn't mean to worry me. Just promise me you won't do it again."
"I promise," breathed Chris.
"Go to sleep, honey." Darren commanded. "I'll be here when you wake up." And with that, Chris and Darren's eyes slid shut simultaneously as if on cue, and both men were able to relax completely for the first time in the last day, safe and secure in the knowledge that they would both be okay.
Early morning light was streaming through the partially closed blinds as daybreak awoke. Chris opened his eyes, smiling as the first thing his eyes saw were Darren. Chris's head was snuggled on Darren's chest , resting in the small hollow beneath Darren's collarbone that seemed as if it was designed specifically to fit the contours of Chris's head and neck. He could feel Darren's warm breath gently rustling his hair as he breathed deeply and evenly. Chris shifted his hips slightly, noticing that Darren's hand was not only wrapped possessively around Chris's torso, but that sometime during the night, Darren had slid his hand beneath Chris's t-shirt and looped his thumb in the waistband of Chris's boxer-briefs. Chris breathed in deeply while trying his hardest not to move a muscle for fear of disturbing the exhausted boy in front of him, not wanting Darren to move even a millimeter from his current location lest he disturb the perfect way in which their bodies were currently fitted together, feeling to Chris as if their bodies had been specially designed much like the pieces of an interlocking jigsaw puzzle with this purpose in mind.
As Chris breathed in deeply, trying to absorb the moment with all of his five senses, to forever remember what it felt, looked, tasted, sounded, and smelled like to fit his body to Darren's, he got a whiff of Darren's unique scent, realizing in surprise that the scent was coming not only from the sleeping form currently serving as his human pillow, but from Chris's own body as well. He glanced down, noticing for the first time that at some point during the previous evening, Darren must have undressed him and put him in one of his t-shirts. Chris knew that the shirt he was currently wearing was one of Darren's favorites. It was a light silver color, well-worn with age and many washings, and best of all read "Red Vines: What the Hell Can't They Do?" a popular reference to A Very Potter Musical, Darren's viral hit. Chris dropped his head to his chest, sniffing the soft t-shirt and being flooded with the scent that was all at once clean, fresh, masculine, and uniquely Darren. He breathed in the aroma for several seconds before lifting his head and was startled to find Darren's eyes open and watching Chris carefully, an amused look on his face.
"Good morning," Darren rumbled, his tantalizingly low voice further deepened and hoarsened by the early hour, making him sound impossibly sexy to Chris. "I guess you figured out that the t-shirt I loaned you wasn't freshly laundered. Sorry Chris, but I'm overdue for another laundromat run and it was either that or you were sleeping shirtless."
"Mmm," Chris sighed contentedly. "I don't mind, trust me. It doesn't smell bad. It smells like you. And it is so soft. I'm keeping it."
"Oh you are, are you?" Darren asked with an amused chuckle. "I'll have you know that is one of my favorite shirts, so don't think I'm parting with it without you putting up some collateral."
"Nope, not buying it," Chris continued. "This is a Team Starkid shirt. You make money every time someone buys one of your shirts, so just think of all the free publicity you'll get out of me wearing this t-shirt. If I'm photographed by the paparazzi in it, your sales will go through the roof. I should be getting an endorsement deal just to wear it."
Darren let out a low, rumbling laugh and threw up his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, I know when I'm beat. The shirt is all yours. I'll even wash it for you."
"Hell no you won't," commanded Chris petulantly. "It smells like you. That's the best part. I'm never washing it."
Darren simply smiled, gently tweaking the tip of Chris's nose with his finger affectionately. "Come on, lazybones" he commanded, reaching up his arms to stretch dramatically. "We've got a big day ahead of us. Let's enjoy Long Island while we can before we have to get to the arena for sound check, okay?"
END FLASHBACK
Darren was shaken from his reverie by the sound of Chris mumbling something incoherently in his sleep. Darren had been sent to the trailer by one of the production assistants to retrieve Chris as he was needed by Zach in the rehearsal studio so that the two of them could start learning the choreography for the duet that they'd be filming together tomorrow morning. He knew they were on a tight schedule and Zach had repeatedly warned Darren and Chris that this was one of the more ambitious numbers that he'd choreographed for them and included several lift stunts, something neither actor had any experience with. Darren considered leaving Chris to sleep and simply telling Zach that Chris was too illl to rehearse, but he knew that Chris would be livid at him if he made that decision without consulting with him first.
With a sigh, Darren moved his hand to gently shake Chris's shoulder, wanting to rouse him from his sleep as gently as he possibly could. "Chris? Hey sleepyhead, time to wake up. How are you feeling?" Darren asked with concern as he watched Chris slowly open his eyes and blink dumbly, seeming disoriented.
"Mhhmm, Darren? What time is it? How long have I been asleep?" Chris rasped hoarsely, a sound that was that was only worsened when Chris suddenly let out a deep, rattling cough that seemed to last far too long. Darren rubbed Chris's arm soothingly while he waited him to ride out the coughing jag before wordlessly handing him a chilled bottle of water from the nearby mini-fridge.
"Jesus Chris, you sound awful. You should be home in bed." Darren said worriedly.
"I'm fine," Chris said unconvincingly, clearing his throat and downing nearly a third of the water bottle in one long gulp. "Just need to hydrate. Is it time for us to get back to set?" he asked, glancing at his watch and seeing that it was just after 2 PM.
"Yeah, one of the PAs sent me to get you because Zach wants us in the studio to start rehearsing our choreography for tomorrow's number. But Chris, you seriously don't have to rehearse right now. I'm sure Zach will understand if we tell him that you are coming down with something."
"Darren, enough. I'm fine. Just tired. Let's get our practice on. The sooner we start rehearsing, the sooner we can learn the dance and be done for the day."
Darren knew Chris well enough to know it would be a waste of time to argue further with him and so he quickly grabbed a few bottles of water, thinking he could at least encourage Chris to drink plenty of fluids and stay hydrated as god knows that the last thing Chris needed at this point was to add dehydration to his list of symptoms. As he followed Chris out the front door of their trailer, he stealthily slipped a travel sized bottle of Tylenol into his blazer pocket, thinking that it could be useful in bringing down the fever that Darren suspected that Chris was currently running.
The hours since then had passed in a flurry of blocking, music, and difficult choreography. Zach hadn't been kidding when he'd said that this was going to be their most difficult routine yet. Zach had choreographed a routine that existed somewhere between a jive, jitterbug, and west-coast swing dance that was incredibly fast-paced and included several death-defying tricks in which Chris and Darren took turns swinging one another through the air, flipping each other back and forth between each other's legs, and even dipping one another only to catch the other person by the back of the neck at the last minute. It was exhausting work and both Chris and Darren were sweating profusely, breathing hard, and feeling bruised and sore from the tops of their heads to the tips of their toes from the crash landings and misplaced knees and elbows that went flying as they struggled to learn their new tricks. Even Darren, who was famously well-known by the entire Glee cast and crew for his unflagging, manic energy, never seeming to tire even after repeating the same complex routine for the tenth time in a single afternoon, was beat. Darren's attentions kept going back to Chris, who he'd been watching slowly decompensate as Chris was clearly feeling worse with each passing hour.
As the cheerful strumming of the ukeleles started anew, Darren brought himself back to his starting position, taking Chris's hands in his as they slowly began to move together in rhythm to the music. As the chorus swelled with Jason Mraz singing about not hesitating, Darren and Chris started the first of their several tricks. Chris hopped off the ground slightly, allowing his knees to bend and his legs to go limp as Darren used his tight grip on Chris's hands to rapidly slide Chris through his wide open stance, flinging Chris until his entire body glided smoothly under his legs, Chris landing with a hop behind Darren, facing away from him and coming to a stand as Darren released his grip on Chris's hands.
Darren was just starting to pivot so they could reverse the move, this time sending Darren flying between Chris's legs when he watched Chris wobble, unsteady on his feet and unable to gain traction on the slick wooden floor. As Darren watched in mute horror, Chris's eyes started to roll back into his head and he slumped to the floor, the sound of the back of Chris's skull hitting the unforgiving wooden floor below dully thudding an echo through the cavernous dance studio which was empty save Darren, Chris and Zach.
Darren was on his knees in a second, panic-stricken at the site before his eyes. His hand immediately went to Chris's cheek, stroking it as he called out Chris's name and waited for him to moan, blink, or otherwise acknowledge what had just happened. Instead, Darren received only silence in response and felt his heart drop at the feel of the searing heat of Chris's cheek, clearly indicating that Chris was spiking a fever. After holding his breath for several seconds and realizing that Chris wasn't going to immediately resume consciousness, Darren turned to Zach in a panic.
"Zach! Chris is unconscious. We need help." Darren commanded.
Zach knelt beside the pair, taking in Chris's flushed cheeks and unresponsive face.
"Darren, what happened? Did he hit his head? Did he just get a little wobbly and manage to fall over and somehow knock himself unconscious by hitting his head on the floor? Or did he just faint?"
Darren shook his head. "Zach, he's sick. I tried to tell him to go home earlier but he refused. Feel how warm he is. He's clearly running a fever. I think he fainted first and then hit his head when he fell. Oh god, Zach, what are we going to do? Will he be okay?"
Zach's eyes widened as he touched the back of his hand to Chris's burning temple. "Jesus," Zach muttered. "Why the hell didn't someone tell me he was this sick? Damn stubborn Chris!"
Zach looked up to see that Darren's eyes were wide and he looked perilously close to tears. "It's going to be okay, Darren. We just need to get him some help. Why don't we move him over to the couch and then I'll go track down the on-site medics and see if they think we need to bring him to the hospital, okay? Can you help me lift Darren onto the couch?" Zach asked.
Darren simply nodded, crouching into a squat before sliding a hand behind Chris's head and neck, supporting Chris's limp head in the crook of his elbow. Zach slid an arm underneath Chris's knees and together they smoothly lifted him into the air, quickly transporting him to the couch waiting at one end of the studio. Darren lowered himself onto the couch first, leaving Chris's head cradled in his arms. Zach gently rested Chris's lower limbs against the couch and stood, in a hurry to get Chris the medical attention he clearly needed.
"Darren? Take care of him, okay? I'll be right back."
Darren nodded vaguely at Zach, his eyes not leaving Chris's face for even a second as he held his breath, willing Chris to give him even the tiniest flicker of recognition or awareness. He felt tears welling in his eyes as he gently brushed back a sweat-dampened lock of Chris's hair from his eyes.
"Oh Chris," Darren whispered softly as he continued to stroke Chris's hair. "You promised me you'd take care of yourself and that you wouldn't do this to be again. Come on, honey. Open your eyes. You promised." A single tear made its way from Darren's eye and slowly tracked down his cheek, waiting to see if Chris would fulfill his promise. But Chris continued to remain unnaturally still and quiet, clearly underscoring the fact that at the moment, Chris had broken his promise to Darren. Hopefully not for good.
End Chapter Note: Whew, that ended up being a lot longer than I'd originally planned! What are you thinking of the story so far? I know it is pretty angsty, but there will also be room for some CrissColfer hurt/comfort goodness and fluff to come as well. Like I said above, I'm very new to the RPF genre, so I welcome all of your feedback. If you managed to stick with me through the first chapter, please review so that I know what you thought of it. Thanks for reading :) Assuming people read and respond positively to this first chapter, I'll try to post the second very soon.