Chapter: 4 – I'm Sure (4,568 words)

Warnings: Character injury, discussion of medical procedures (but nothing too squicky), profanity, and eventually some sexual banter.

*As always, big thanks to my beta alexeidarling who cheers me along and catches all the mistakes I'm too tired to see. I couldn't do it without her!

Author's Note: Wow, have you ever had to wait a long time for an update on this fic! You are truly the readers that waited. Thank you so much for your unending patience and continuing interest in this story while I focused all my attention on completing my 78,000 plus word AU Klaine fic "The Dalton Prison Study." But now that it's done, this fic is on the top of the queue. I've already started working on Chapter 5 and my goal is to post an update by this time next week. Stick around after the chapter for some notes about where the story is going next. But now let's get back to the story, shall we. Lots of lots of angst ahead. Don't say I didn't warn you...

Chris allowed his eyelids to slide shut, blocking out his surroundings save for the feel of Darren's warm hand nestled against his and resting over his heart. He allowed himself to be lulled into a semi-conscious state by the gentle rhythm of Darren's hand brushing through his hair. For now, he was safe. He was home. As long as Darren was here, he would be okay. Whatever came next, they would face it as the always had: together.

Darren fought hard in the initial chaos of the emergency room to keep his promise and stay with Chris. For once, he was grateful for his celebrity status and did not hesitate to use it if doing so meant that the hospital staff would be more willing to bend the rules for him. Chris was more out of it than with it by this point, but had held on enough to continue to cling to Darren's hand, still reacting violently to any threatened separation. And it was probably that more than anything else that had finally worked in Darren's favor as the paramedic recounted how Darren had been able to keep Chris calm in the ambulance. So the doctors had reluctantly allowed him into the treatment room after admonishing him to stay out of the way so that they could treat Chris.

Darren tried not to look anywhere except Chris' face as two nurses quickly divested Chris of his clothing and covered him with a hospital gown and a sheet. But Darren couldn't help but notice a dark, already purpling bruise on Chris' shoulder and another along his ribs as the nurses pulled off his shirt, presumably from where Chris had fallen on the unforgiving wooden floor as he passed out earlier. More worrying were the deep, barking coughs that Chris was letting out on increasingly frequent basis. The cough in itself was bad enough, but it was made even worse by the way it seemed to be adding to Chris' overall misery and breathlessness. Darren watched helplessly as Chris struggled to catch his breath each time, tears streaming down his cheeks unchecked. And all Darren could really do at this point was to squeeze Chris's hand even tighter, brushing away the tears as the streamed down his cheeks, and whispering softly to him. "I know, Chris. I know. Just try to breathe. It's going to get better soon. Just hang on, okay?" Darren soothed over and over, his words a mantra that he wasn't even sure that Chris could really hear or understand.

All around Chris, a flurry of activity was taking place. The medical team worked quickly and efficiently, seeming to Darren as if they were doing a thousand things at once. A nurse slid down Chris' gown long enough to place several small round leads on his chest, quickly hooking them to a monitor on an IV pole and filling the room with the sound of Chris' heart beating, a reassuring sound despite the rapid staccato beat. Another nurse clipped a small plastic pulse oxygen monitor on Chris' free hand, the other still protectively wrapped in Darren's. At the head of the bed, a doctor shone a bright light into Chris' eyes, causing him to wince and shut his eyes tightly.

Next, the doctor moved down to Chris' chest, placing a stethoscope over the right side of his chest and then the left in turn, frowning slightly as he listened. He turned to a third nurse who was adjusting several clear bags of fluids of various sizes. "Lungs are wet. I can hear crackles in both, the left's a little worse than the right, I think. Can you call for a portable chest and c-spine X-ray?"

The nurse nodded and picked up a phone receiver that was anchored on one wall, muttering instructions into it, her voice too soft for Darren to make out what she was saying over the hum of activity in the room. Darren's mind was still reeling. He could tell from the serious tone in the doctor's voice that whatever was going on health-wise with Chris wasn't good, but his words might as well be gibberish, so indecipherable were they to Darren. The nameless dread that had been building in the pit of Darren's stomach since he'd arrived on set that morning to see a pale, quiet Chris instead of the rosy-cheeked, talkative friend he knew and loved suddenly increased threefold, threatening to choke Darren with the sheer magnitude of it all.

A soft moan drew Darren's eyes away from the nurse and back to Chris where he immediately located the source of Chris' cries. The doctor had slid his gloved hand under Chris' head and was prodding the wound at the base of his skull. Chris' moans quickly built to whimpers, his breathing becoming even more shallow and rapid with each passing moment. Darren bit his lip and tried to focus on his own breathing as he watched the doctor remove piece after piece of blood-soaked gauze, Chris' wound clearly still bleeding heavily. Chris' eyes were still shut tightly, but as Darren watched, helpless tears leaked onto Chris' cheeks in a steady stream.

Darren leaned forward, his face hovering mere inches above Chris' as he wiped away the tears and began whispering what he hoped were soothing words. "Shh, Chris...it's okay. I'm right here. I know it hurts. Just squeeze my hand, alright? It's going to get better soon, honey...I promise. Just hang on, Chris."

Chris shuddered, his body shaking slightly with the force of his sobs of pain. His hand crushed into Darren's as he tried to turn towards the familiar, comforting voice, wanting to see the warm honeyed hazel eyes that he could feel gazing down at him. Chris let out a muffled cry of panic as his movement was prevented, halted by the cervical collar still protecting his neck. But Darren seemed to anticipate the source of Chris' panic, leaning forward until his face was directly above Chris' own. He stroked Chris' cheek and slowly Chris' breathing slowed and he opened his eyes.

"Hey...shh" Darren soothed, gazing sadly down at Chris.

Chris looked up at Darren, swallowing hard. "Darren..." was all he managed, his voice breaking slightly as he winced in obvious pain.

Darren sighed heavily. "I know...I know..." he whispered, his hands stroking across Chris' cheek, temple, and hair, trying to soothe him in any small way that he could. He brushed at a tear sliding down Chris' hot cheek. Finally, he asked helplessly "What can I do?"

"Just...just stay," Chris whispered, his hand tightening around Darren's instinctively.

"I will... I'm not going anywhere, Chris. I'm right here."

Chris looked up at Darren for a long moment, biting his lip as he seemingly thought something over. "Okay," he said eventually, nodding slightly, before allowing his eyes to slip closed once more, still tightly gripping Darren's hand.

"Okay," Darren whispered back, settling back onto the stool at Chris' bedside and stroking Chris' hair, trying to hold himself together a little longer. For Chris.

They were only allowed a few moments of quiet before harsh reality intruded yet again.

"Okay guys, we need to take Chris down for a CT Scan to make sure his head injury isn't worse than it looks," the ER doctor spoke hurriedly. "It should take about ten to fifteen minutes. You can wait for him here. Once it's done and the pictures are up, I should be able to give you a better sense of what we're dealing with, alright?"

Chris' eyes flew open at that, panic burning bright in his eyes at the thought of being separated from the one thing holding him together. "Darren, no..." he murmured.

"It's okay, Chris," Darren replied automatically. "Can't I go with him?" Darren asked, turning to the doctor. "He needs...he'll be calmer if I do," he tried to explain.

"Sorry, no..." the doctor replied. "But we're going to sedate him for the procedure so he's still and we can get clear pictures. By the time he wakes up, he'll be back here."

On cue, a nurse stepped to Chris' bedside carrying a syringe. She quickly uncapped it, emptying the contents into his IV port. "All done," she spoke with a sympathetic smile. "He'll be out in no time."

Darren stared down at Chris, his heart thudding at the look of panic in Chris' eyes. "It's okay, Chris. You're just gonna take a little nap while I wait, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

Chris started to protest, mumbling, "Darren, please." But quickly, the sedatives began to take hold as promised, Chris' face went slack, and suddenly even blinking became a chore.

"I'll be right here when you get back, okay Chris?" Darren promised. "Just close your eyes and try to rest for a few minutes. Everything's going to be okay."

Chris stared up at Darren, blinking heavily, his hand still clutched tightly around Darren's. Gradually, his grip loosened as the sedative took effect and his eyelids became too heavy to keep open. Darren sighed, bending down to place a gentle kiss on Chris' forehead. "See you soon, Chris," he whispered, before nodding, signaling the orderly that he could take Chris down the hall for his CT scan.

As Chris's gurney disappeared down the hallway, Darren stood, staring at the floor, his hands balled into fists, breathing heavily. It was the first time he'd been alone since Chris had collapsed, and he was unprepared for the onslaught of emotions that poured over him without the distraction of Chris' immediate needs and comfort to focus on.

A sudden jolt from his pocket brought him crashing back to reality. He slid his phone out of his pocket, reading a text message, this time from Diana.

Dianna (9:18 pm): Darren, I just got to the hospital. We're all out here waiting. What's going on? How's Chris doing?

Darren stared at the text message, trying to find the right words to express his myriad of concerns without totally terrifying Dianna and the rest of the cast. Darren glanced at the clock. The nurse had indicated that the CT scan would take 10-15 minutes. If he hurried, he could update everyone and be back well before Chris returned.

"Oh my god, Darren!" Lea exclaimed as Darren pushed through the doors into the small, private waiting room where many of Chris' Glee cast members were keeping vigil.

"Hey guys," Darren responded wearily. He allowed himself to be pulled into a tight hug by Dianna, sighing a little as he sank into her arms. Dianna squeezed tighter, rubbing Darren's back gently before pulling back to look at him, her eyes filled with concern that was only intensified by the dark look in Darren's eyes.

Her eyes widened in shock as she glanced down at Darren's body, gasping at the dark copper that stained his jeans and shirt. "Oh my god, is that Chris' blood?" she asked, horrified.

Darren looked down as if in daze, suddenly remembering the blood that had seeped from Chris' head onto his pants earlier. "Yeah, uh...it...is," he finished lamely, swaying a little on his feet.

Ashley seemed to sense his unsteadiness. "Here, Darren. Come sit down and then you can fill us all in on how Chris is doing, okay?

Darren nodded wordlessly, allowing himself to be led to a nearby chair. He sat there for several seconds, lost in his own thoughts before Amber gently prompted him to begin, saying "So Darren, where's Chris? How's he doing?"

Darren ran a hand over his face, realizing just how difficult this conversation was going to be. "He's getting a CT scan right now. He...he's in pretty bad shape, honestly, but the doctors think he'll be okay."

Ashley, Lea, Dianna, and Amber exchanged horrified glances. "My poor baby," Ashley murmured, tears starting to fill her eyes. "So what happened exactly? All Zach told us was that he collapsed during rehearsal and needed to go to the hospital. Why does he need a CT scan? What's wrong with him?"

"They're still running tests, but the doctors think he's got a bad concussion and pneumonia," Darren answered bluntly. "He was...he was obviously sick when he came in this morning, but you know how Chris is. He kept insisting he was fine and that he wasn't going to go home early. But I knew he was feeling pretty awful when he skipped lunch to sleep in our trailer instead. We had this brutal dance rehearsal for a the Jason Mraz number we're doing in the next episode, and of course Chris was determined not to miss practice. We must have been rehearsing for three hours and I guess he was running a pretty high fever and he just blacked out. I tried to catch him when he went down, but I wasn't fast enough and he cracked the back of his head on the floor really hard. And that's it basically. He was out for almost ten minutes after he first collapsed and he's been kind of in and out of it ever since. The doctor is positive that he's got a concussion, but they're doing a CT scan just to be sure that he doesn't have a skull fracture or bleeding in his brain. And the doctor said he's sick and running the fever because he has pneumonia, although they still don't know what kind it is or how he got so sick so fast."

Darren continued to stare at the ground where he'd been studying his shoes, finding it easier to talk without staring into the worried eyes of Chris' friends. The truth was painful enough without that added reminder.

After a moment of stunned silence, Lea was the first to speak. "Oh my god," she sighed. "We had no idea it was that bad. But he's going to be okay..."

"Yeah, I think so," Darren replied unsteadily. "At least that's what the doctors are saying..."

"No," Lea corrected, putting a hand on Darren's shoulder. "Darren, look at me," she commanded, waiting patiently until Darren finally drew his eyes from the ground and met her gaze.

"Chris is going to be okay. I know he will be. He's tough."

Darren stared back, wanting desperately to believe Lea, but still unable to silence the doubts that kept crowding his mind. He chewed nervously at the inside of his cheek and nodded minutely, still obviously unsure.

"He will, Darren. And none of this is your fault, okay?" Lea reassured, seeing the doubt in Darren's eyes.

Darren crumpled at those words, finally allowing the dam that had been holding back the onslaught of emotions to break. Lea seemed to anticipate this response and simply leaned forward, taking Darren's heaving body into her arms. "Shh Darren...it's okay. It's not your fault. Chris is going to be fine."

Fifteen minutes later, Chris was returned to his room, still snoring slightly. As promised, Darren was immediately at his side, his eyes still slightly tear-swollen but otherwise no worse for the wear. Darren's body was flooded with relief to see that Chris was no longer restrained to the bed, the hard plastic cervical collar and backboard now gone. Darren did not hesitate before taking Chris' hand in his once more, immediately calming down now that he could watch over Chris with his own eyes.

A nurse smiled down at both of them. "He did great with the scan. The doctor's looking at the images now so he should be in to talk to you pretty soon about the results. He just needs to sleep off the sedative for now. Call us if he needs anything."

"I will, thanks," Darren replied gratefully.

Darren settled in at Chris' bedside, bringing his free hand to Chris' temple as he began to stroke his hair soothingly. They stayed that way in comfortable silence for nearly half an hour, with Darren listening to the reassuring beep of Chris' heart monitor and the inhale and exhale of each breath.

Suddenly, a hoarse, barking cough broke through the silence of the hospital room. Darren winced at the harsh sound, his eyes immediately flying to Chris' face in anticipation. Luckily, the coughing jag did not last long this time. Nevertheless, it was enough to wake Chris from his sleep.

"Mmmhmm," Chris moaned, turning towards Darren.

"Hey Chris," Darren spoke, giving him a worried smile. "How're you feeling?"

"C-cold," Chris responded, shivering slightly as he blinked up at Darren.

Darren frowned, bringing his free hand to Chris' forehead, sweeping Chris' bangs from his temple and ghosting over Chris' warm skin. "You're still really warm to me, but maybe your fever's starting to go down?"

"M-maybe," Chris shuddered, his eyes glassy and listless. "How long have I been asleep?

"About 45 minutes? You got back from the scan about 30 minutes ago."

"Ugh...I feel like shit," Chris moaned. "What's wrong with me, Darren?"

Darren sighed. "I can tell you what we know so far, but the doctors are still running tests."

"Okay," Chris sighed, looking up at Darren with wide eyes.

"I don't want to scare you," Darren murmured, trying to find the right words.

"Am I dying?" Chris asked flatly.

"What? No, of course not. God no...you're going to be fine, Chris, I just –," Darren rambled.

"Then you aren't going to scare me," Chris interrupted, just as directly. "Now out with it, before I crash again."

"Okay," Darren breathed, a relieved smile playing around the corners of his mouth at the return of a little good old fashioned Chris snark. It was a relief to hear him sound like Chris again, even if the topic was fairly morbid.

"So you've got a concussion," Darren started nervously. "They just did a scan to make sure it wasn't something more serious, but they're pretty sure you've got a pretty bad concussion from hitting your head when you passed out."

Chris nodded, seeming unsurprised. "I figured as much... Not my first time at the rodeo," he muttered, almost to himself.

"You've had a concussion before?" Darren asked, honestly surprised.

"Two actually. Dodge ball... My head was used for target practice quite a bit in middle school," he sighed wearily.

Darren looked at Chris, horrified. Chris looked as if he wanted to say more, but before he could get a word out, he broke into another coughing fit, this one more violent than the last.

"Easy...easy Chris," Darren soothed, rubbing Chris' arm as he talked him through the coughing fit. "Just try to breathe...it'll pass in a second." He continued to look on helplessly as coughs racked Chris' body and tears streamed down his cheeks. "Chris? Should I call the nurse?" Darren finally asked worriedly.

Chris shook his head, taking in a gasp of air as his breathing slowly started to even out. Darren caressed his cheek, wiping away tears and waiting. "Anything I can do?" he asked once Chris seemed to be breathing at a more normal rate.

"Water?" Chris croaked.

"Of course," Darren replied instantly, already mentally chastising himself for having not thought of it sooner. He quickly filled a Styrofoam cup from the pink plastic pitcher perched atop a cart of medical supplies, swiping a straw and plunking it into the cup.

"Here," Darren spoke, bringing the cup to Chris. Chris shifted, wincing obviously as he attempted to lift his head and reach for the cup simultaneously.

"No, no, no..." Darren answered, shaking his head as he laid a restraining arm across Chris' chest. "Let me." He brought the cup to Chris' mouth, sliding the straw between Chris' slightly parted lips and waiting patiently while Chris slowly sipped water, pausing between sips to gulp air, still slightly breathless from his last coughing fit. Finally, he nodded at Darren, who slowly removed the cup and placed it on nearby table. "Better?" he asked gently, watching with concern as Chris sank back against the pillows, looking thoroughly exhausted.

"Yeah," Chris mumbled, his eyes sliding shut for a short while. "Just tired...my head hurts...a lot. And my chest."

"I know, honey," Darren replied tenderly. "It's gonna get better though. You should try to rest if you can."

Chris was quiet for a moment, causing Darren to wonder if he'd fallen asleep again. But after a minute or two, Chris blinked up at Darren. "You never finished telling me what's wrong with me," he admonished. "There's more, right?"

"Yeah.." Darren responded, a bit taken aback. "But we can talk later... You should rest, Chris."

"Darren? What aren't you telling me? Out with it," Chris commanded wearily.

"No big secret..." Darren started reluctantly. "You're sick. Apparently you have pneumonia."

"Really?" Chris asked, frowning and obviously surprised. "I haven't even been sick that long..." he muttered more to himself than to Darren.

"I know, right?" said Darren. "That was my first thought too. But let's be honest, Chris. You've never been very good at taking care of yourself. You work too hard. You're run down. And that was bound to take its toll eventually."

Chris looked at Darren for a moment, seeming to consider something before finally nodding his reluctant agreement. "I know, I just... It snuck up on me. I really didn't think I was that sick... You know how I am..."

Darren sighed, rolling his eyes a little. But as he gazed at Chris, taking in the bandage covering his head, the oxygen prongs in his nose, and the variety of monitors and tubes attached to Chris' every limb, Darren grew serious once again, the full weight of the situation bearing down on him until it was hard to breathe. "Yeah, I do know how you are...which is why I was so worried earlier when I had to practically peel you off the couch in your trailer. You shouldn't have been rehearsing in that state. And I didn't stop you.."

Chris frowned at that, looking concerned and more than a little frustrated. "Seriously, Darren? You tried. You told me to go home. I didn't listen because I'm stubborn. I'm failing to see how any of this," Chris continued, gesturing to his injured state, wincing slightly as he lifted his arm, "is your fault."

Darren shook his head fervently, getting more worked up by the moment. "I know I tried, but I also know you. We've been through this before. I'm not an idiot. I should've gone to Zach or Ryan and told them to send you home."

Chris opened his mouth, intending to protest, but whatever he wanted to convey was quickly taken over by another violent coughing fit, this one seeming to leave Chris more drained and breathless than the last, tears streaming down his cheeks involuntarily as he struggled to regain control.

"Oh shit, Chris. I'm sorry, honey. I shouldn't be making you talk. Shh, it's okay. Breathe. Just breathe, Chris, It'll pass in a second," Darren soothed, rubbing Chris' arm sympathetically. Finally, the coughing jag started to slow. Darren coaxed Chris into taking a few more sips of water, before helping Chris settle back against the pillows, quiet but utterly drained.

"Sorry, Chris. That was my fault," Darren spoke guiltily, stroking Chris' cheek as he eyes started to droop against his will. "We don't need to talk about this right now. You need to rest, okay? Just close your eyes."

Chris nodded sleepily, his eyelids sliding down to half mast. "Raincheck?" he rasped.

"Sure," Darren agreed, carding his fingers through Chris' hair. Chris shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable. He let out a low moan as a minute change in position caused his head to throb in earnest.

"I know, Chris... Shh...just try to relax. Everything's going to be okay. Just sleep."

Chris settled for nodding, too drained to reply verbally. He winced at the sudden jolt of pain to his head, automatically reaching out for Darren's hand, needing Darren's touch to ground him through the pain.

Darren took Chris' hand gratefully, lacing his fingers with Chris' own and settling in at his' bedside. "I'm right here, Chris. Close your eyes. I'll be here when you wake up."

Chris blinked rapidly, forcing his eyes back open as a sudden thought occurred to him. "I guess I'm not going home tonight, huh? I have to stay here?"

"Yeah Chris...you're going to be here for awhile. At least a few days...but probably closer to a week," Darren replied. "The nurse said they were going to move you up to a room soon. You'll be in the ICU tonight so they can monitor you closely and make sure your head injury doesn't get any worse."

"Shit," Chris murmured under his breath, obviously upset at this new revelation. "Darren, are you sure I have to? Can't I just go home? I'll stay in bed."

Darren scrubbed a hand over his face, frustrated. Chris was like a broken record with the insisting he was fine when he clearly wasn't. Chris really didn't get it yet. And Darren, who had held Chris' broken, bleeding, and unconscious body in his lap hours earlier got it all too well. But for now, Darren just wanted Chris to rest. There would be plenty of time for lectures later.

"Chris, look at me. You have pneumonia and a bad concussion. You can barely talk. You're in pain. You're not going anywhere. You're going to do everything the doctors tell you to do and more importantly, you are going to slow down and learn how to take better care of yourself. We don't have to talk now, but we do have to deal with this at some point. But please, for now, will you just close your eyes and go to sleep? For me?"

Chris bit his lip, seeing the raw pain and anxiety in Darren's pleading eyes. "I will under one condition."

"Anything," Darren replied reflexively.

"Will you stay? I don't like hospitals and you make them feel less scary. Less hospital-y," Chris spit out in a rush, blushing a little at the thought of how desperately he needed Darren to stay.

"Of course I'm staying. I told you, Chris. I'm not going anywhere. You'll have to kick me out if you want to get rid of me. Otherwise, I'm all yours," Darren finished instantly, without a second's hesitation or trace of doubt.

"Are you sure?" Chris asked, still irrationally anxious at the thought of doing this without Darren at his side.

"I'm sure, honey. Now go to sleep before I call the nurse in to sedate you into oblivion again," Darren whispered fondly, bending down to plant a gentle kiss on Chris' forehead.

"Mmhmm, those were the good drugs," were the last words Chris murmured before sleep overtook him, the sound of Darren's soft chuckle echoing through his dreams.

End Chapter Note: Whew, I wasn't kidding about the angst, was I? But the good news is that there isa lot more CrissColfer h/c and fluff coming up, plus some progression to their relationship. Right now, there's nothing "official" between Chris or Darren but there are definitely some feelings there that haven't been addressed. My take is that an emergency situation like this one is just the catalyst for bringing those feelings that were already there to the surface. I'm predicting another 4-5 chapters to wrap up this fic and plan to have Chaper 5 up by next Wednesday, June 6th. If you enjoyed this chapter and are excited to have the fic back after the long hiatus, I'd love to hear from you. Please review or send me a PM and tell me what you think so far. Nothing would make me happier. And if you aren't already following me on Tumblr (place-that-ive-been-dreaming-of (dot) tumblr (dot) com), what are you waiting for? I liveblog my fic writing regularly and post special features to Tumblr. Finally, check out my Tumblr Klaine and CrissColfer Fics Masterpost for more fics by me. Thanks for reading!