A/N: This is what started as a drabble and turned into a fully fledged one-shot. I hope you like it. Consider Glee things disclaimed; I'm just a silly fanfic writer with no money. The title is from a beautiful song by Mumford & Sons - "After the Storm." Check it out! Thanks for taking the time to read this little thing. I appreciate it!


Hold With All I Have

It's not like Blaine is a particularly heavy individual. He is muscular for sure, but Blaine is tiny. He's little, and even shorter when he loses his hair height from all the gel he uses to tame his curls.

He can't possibly weigh a lot, and certainly not more than the bulky hockey player with his arm wrapped around his fretting girlfriend. Or Finn himself for that matter.

But it was Blaine, not the bulky hockey-player or Finn who'd sunk beneath the broken sheet of ice and deep into the depths of fatally cold water.

It shoudn't have happened. The pond was a safe place; Ohio residents had been skating on it for years every winter. And something like this had never happened before.

Finn squeezes Rachel tighter against him, he can feel her shaking against his chest. He knows Rachel well enough to know that she can't look out at the small huddle of rescue servicers risking their lives or at Kurt being held back by the security officer. She won't watch her best friends' lives fall apart.

But Finn watches. Kurt's his brother and Blaine's a cool dude, practically his brother from another mother also. He feels his stomach sink with worry. Blaine needs to get out because Kurt needs him. So Finn watches because it's the only thing he can do.

They were both laughing when it happened. Kurt and Rachel were both letting their feet rest – and Finn notices all of a sudden that Kurt's completely barefoot as he struggles against constraining arms - so it was just him and Blaine when the ice started cracking under their feet.

He'd said something funny – something Puck had said to him - and Blaine had thrown his head back and just laughed in that unapologetic way. But it happened so fast, and he was under water before Finn could comprehend it.

He tried to get to him, panicking as he saw Blaine's arms flailing for a hand hold – but the ice kept cracking each time Blaine tried to pull himself back up, and their hands never found each other. The security guard had been the one to convince Finn to retreat, but he only did so as help arrived. There was no way he was going to leave Blaine there.

Blaine's movements had already been slowing, but god he would never tell Kurt that.

It's probably a good thing they really can't see anything beyond the people trying to help Blaine. But it's too quiet over there. All he can hear are Rachel sniffling against his chest, the horrible whispers of the people around them, and Kurt's terrible screams echoing across the pond.

Oh God, Blaine.

The ambulance pulls up, but there's no one for the paramedics to save. And Blaine's been under so long that Finn's not sure there will be.


Interlude 1: Kurt

Oh god, no no no. Don't die, Blaine. Please, just let me get to him. I need….

BLAINE!


The movement begins with just a ripple of sound – no excitement, no obvious success – but just enough to know that something has happened. And slowly, they move so that the scene is no longer blocked from the on-lookers at the snow-bank.

They've gotten Blaine out, but he's not moving and Finn only recognizes him from the clothes he was wearing that day.

One of the rescuers picks Blaine up like he's weightless, even though his clothes are now heavy with water, and the boy's head rolls back lifeless. From where he stands at the edge, Finn can now see Blaine's dark skin now tinged purple, his lips blue. And it's terrifying.

The damp curls Blaine only shows Kurt cling to his skin.


Interlude 2: Blaine

coldcoldcoldcoldcoldcold


Blaine's rescuer passes in slow-motion, carrying him until they reach the stretcher prepared by the paramedics.

Finn manages to catch a few phrases of their conversation:

Wasn't breathing.

4 minutes.

Hypothermia

Oxygen deprivation.

Drowning.

Blaine – honest, determined, loving Blaine – nearly drowned. Rachel howls into Finn's shirt – and wow, he almost forgot she was here.

Kurt follows the stretcher to the ambulance, but the doors close quickly and the vehicle speeds out without him. He stands there lost, his bare feet blue and trembling in the snow, and Finn wonders if he even notices.


The doctors explain that the process of warming Blaine up actually has to be a carefully executed one. They can't bring his temperature up too fast or it could endanger his body further – one extreme to the next is never good – but Blaine also desperately needs to be warmed up as soon as possible.

They've got him lying on his back in a hospital bed, pumping him full of warming fluids through an IV and warm oxygen through the mask covering his face. Blankets encircle his torso, and chemical heating pads, wrapped fully, rest at his sides.

He's shaking almost convulsively, but that's what shows he's getting better, so the doctors tell them. The danger of hypothermia is when your body stops shaking – that's when you start to feel warm right before things go to hell.

Finn and Kurt can't really know if Blaine got to that point while in the water, but from the doctors' reactions to his low – still, too low – temperature they can assume he was close.

The two of them – he and Kurt – are sitting at Blaine's bedside after being given permission to do so by Blaine's parents via phone call. Blaine's only barely conscious and confused, and Burt is outside talking to the doctor's about his condition. So it's really just him and Kurt.

Rachel's dads came to pick her up long ago, and Finn almost wishes she could still be here despite her near break down. He could certainly use one of her hugs right now.

It's almost too quiet, despite the beeping and humming of machines.

Kurt shivers, holding Blaine's hand tightly.

Finn sits back in his chair. He thinks about the first (and only) time his mom took him out of a football game. He was much younger then, and they had a December game when it had started raining. It was so cold. At the time, he was benched, so it was even colder.

His mom wouldn't stand for it. There was no reason a bunch of kids should suffer through that type of cold for a sport. The game was cancelled when she complained.

Finn remembers her leading him to the car and cranking the heat for him.

She gave him a heating pad to rub between his hands. Finn remembers thinking that it malfunctioned when he felt the sharp pain in his palm, but he learned later that it was really just because his hands had been so, so cold.

Finn wonders what it's like for Blaine. He can't even imagine being colder than he was that day. He can't imagine what Blaine feels now.


A Moment of Blaine

Waking was probably the worst decision he ever made. And he's made a lot of stupid decisions in his young life, so that says a lot.

His skin is on fire, flames digging deep inside him even as he squirms against them. Well, he tries to anyway – he'd be squirming if he had the strength to. Instead he just whimpers.

"Shhh. Stop, honey," Kurt says.

Kurt can't be here – not when he's on fire, and god, the fire's going to hurt Kurt too if he's not careful.

"No, Kur', no," he rambles, using the last reserve of his strength to gently push Kurt away from his burning flesh.


"He tried to push me away," Kurt says in shock, as if Finn hadn't even been there as it happened. The tension leaves Blaine's body as he falls back into the unawake side of half-conscious, and Kurt grips his cold hand tighter, blatantly willing his body to heat up.

"Look, dude. He's so out of it, he just doesn't understand…" Finn replies.

"I know, Finn," Kurt cries softly. He's been numb for so long; it's about time. "The coldest part of his body has always been his feet, you know. Whenever we'd rest together, he'd always find a way to put his cold feet on my skin because he thought it was funny. But the rest of him is always so warm."

Finn nods, though Kurt can't see him do so as he stares into Blaine's closed eyes. He waits for the point to Kurt's story, but there doesn't really seem to be one, and Kurt goes quiet.

He doesn't notice Burt entering the room until he speaks.

"Come on, son," Burt says, placing his hand on Kurt's shoulder. "This is Doctor Chad" he says, gesturing to the middle aged man at his side. "I want him to check you out."

"Why?" Kurt whispers, continuing to stare down at where his hand grasps Blaine's.

"You're shivering, Kurt," Finn replies.

"I don't want you to get sick," Burt says. "Finn told me you were barefoot in that snow bank."

"You should be making sure Blaine doesn't get sick, not me."

"We can make sure you both stay well, Kurt." Doctor Chad answers. "Blaine is in the best hands. I promise. "

And while it's a nice sentiment, Finn highly doubts its truth when Kurt leaves with Doctor Chad and Blaine curls his fingers around a hand that's not there. As Blaine whimpers, Finn hesitates to touch him. But he reaches his hand out…and hovers.

He's still cold. Finn can feel the cold without actually touching him.

If only it had been that easy when it was important; they had been just one hand-hold away from ensuring that none of this had happened.

Burt coughs and announces that he's going to wait with Kurt while Finn watches over Blaine, but Finn can tell that Burt wishes he could watch over them both. He's trusting Finn to be there while he can't.


Interlude 3: Burt

Not my boys. Please, God, not my boys. They're gonna be okay. All of them.


Kurt gets sick. It's really not such a huge deal – just a bad cold – except for the fact that the doctors refuse to let him back into Blaine's room. Kurt throws a fit.

It's too dangerous to Blaine's health for Kurt to be there.

After checking him over, they release Kurt into his stepmom's capable hands. The hospital only allows one person to remain with Blaine overnight, so Burt opts to watch over him while Finn and his mom help Kurt at home.

Easier said than done, since home is the last place Kurt wants to be.

"He needs me!" Kurt shouts from the couch, the congestion in his chest evident. He's been saying the same sort of thing since they left the hospital. At this point, it's simply for the sake of saying it and not because he thinks it will change their minds. He's completely drained.

"Finn," Kurt calls, his body wrapped tightly in the knitted blanket that usually adorns the back of the couch. "He needs me, Finn."

"He's got you, dude," Finn says, bending to adjust the blanket. "Don't you worry. Blaine knows you're with him."

He shakes his head, eyes tearing and cheeks red with fever. "But I'm not! He needs me there."

They haven't been the most affectionate of step-brothers; in a lot of ways, they just let each other do their own thing. But every once in a while, Kurt will see Finn hurting and bring him a plate of cookies and a listening ear, or Finn will hear Kurt dreaming of his mom in the night and bring him a cup of warm milk and a musical.

They've found a way to live together, not just cohabitate. And it works for them.

So, as Kurt cries for Blaine through the aching of his body, Finn can do very little except be there for him. He sits, helping Kurt to adjust on the couch so that his head rests on a pillow against Finn's leg. Finn picks up the remote and flips through the channels as he decides what he wants to say.

"It's gonna be fine, Kurt. You're gonna be okay, and Blaine's gonna be okay. Just remember that Burt's there with him, and there's no one than more trustworthy than your dad, ok? And you're gonna get better for each other. Just remember Blaine is fighting for you as much as you're fighting for him right now."

He stops clicking through channels when he finds a black and white film that looks to be something Kurt's speed. They watch the movie quietly together until Kurt finally breaks the silence.

"Did you know that the Finns were the first to invent ice-skating, Finn?" He giggles as if the fact is supposed to be funny. "They made skate blades out of animal bones."

"That's…" There's a word he's trying to remember. "Macramé."

Kurt explodes with laughter. "Oh my god, Finn. Macabre. And that's not even the word you want. You're thinking-"

"Morbid."

And suddenly it seems wrong to be laughing about it.

"Yeah," Kurt says. They can hear Carole humming in the kitchen as the couple on tv twirls in each other's arms. "It was a means of survival, you know? Ice-skating. It made travel faster and hunting easier."

Kurt's eyes are glazed as he stares at the television, and Finn knows his thoughts have returned to what happened to Blaine. Survival, indeed.

"Sounds to me like they were just being lazy," Finn replies, happy to see Kurt's mouth twitch into a smile for a moment.

"How very Finn-ish of them," he quips.


Interlude 4: Carole

I know it's not how Kurt's mom used to make it, but I hope this does the trick. I wonder how Blaine is doing? Maybe I should call Burt. Yeah, I should do that.


Half an hour later, Kurt's stomach is full of Carole's chicken noodle soup, and he falls asleep with Blaine's name on his lips.

Finn and Carole sit at the kitchen table, both drinking cups of hot chocolate, though Finn's overflows with marshmallows the way he likes.

"Mom?"

"Yes, honey?"

"I -I was so close to saving him." I can't stop thinking about the way he looked up at me to help him.

Why Blaine? Why anybody?

"Blaine?" she asks, tenderly. Finn confirms with a nod. "You did what you could, Finn. Blaine was very lucky today even if it doesn't seem like it."

Finn sips his drink and feels the warm liquid go down his throat. "How?"

"Finn, honey, I don't want to scare you, but Blaine legitimately drowned today. People don't just come back from something like that. But Blaine did. And why? Because security was so quick and aware? Because the rescue squad was at their home base and not out on another rescue? Because we had a break in snow storms so the paramedics could navigate the roads easily? Everything could've gone differently if Mr. Harvey had salted the roads by the park instead of the ones by the pond. When you look at it that way, everything went as right as could be, timed perfectly to make Blaine's survival possible. That's why he's lucky."

It's a scary thought. He remembers the face of Jesus appearing on a grilled cheese long ago, and it just seems so silly of him. It's clear now: luck, coincidence, timing – these are the things that make him believe in something bigger than himself, whatever it may be. He shivers with the epiphany.

"Blaine's lucky he's even alive to battle hypothermia. I'm not going to lie, it's still serious, and he's still got a long way to go," Carole continues.

"But he's made it this far," Finn acknowledges. He understands. Someone, something, is on Blaine's side.

And his mom smiles and takes his hand. "And there you go."


Blaine is fine, eventually. He develops a nasty cough and pneumonia before finally being released from the hospital, and in that time Kurt fights off his cold completely.

Finn cringes seeing Blaine in the wheelchair that's hospital policy. But Kurt pushes him down a corridor so fast that Blaine laughs hard enough to turn his cheeks red, and Finn can't be angry at it when it's making Blaine smile like that.

Burt drives them all home, having set up a guest room for Blaine while he recovers fully, and Carole surprises them with a celebratory dinner and a large cake that says Welcome home, Blaine!

Finn knows that word does things to Blaine. Home.

Burt claps him on the back as Blaine smiles through his tears, and Carole gives him the kind of hug smothering mothers give their sons (but Blaine doesn't seem to mind).

That night, Finn sees Kurt and Blaine dancing slowly together in Kurt's room. Although it's a private moment, Finn watches as Blaine leans onto Kurt more than usual with weak limbs as Kurt mouths lyrics against Blaine's neck.

When they kiss it becomes too private, and Finn retreats to his own room.

That night he dreams of broken ice and corpses of his family –Rachel, Carole, Burt, Kurt, Blaine - scattered on top of sharpened (animal?) bones. In a haze of cold air and goose bumps, he screams.

And it's the timing of his full bladder that places Blaine outside Finn's room to hear him shouting for help. Finn is awake, panting, and willing his heart to slow down when Blaine enters. Finn doesn't need to explain; Blaine knows.

And when Blaine holds out his hand, Finn takes it.

The End