Warnings: Panic Attacks, complete and utter lack of knowledge of how hospitals work, I apologize if I'm wrong about anything (everything?), mentions of past injuries, and mentions of past character death (no one big), I think that's it.

A/N: So this is the end, pretty much, unless you want an epilogue, I have some ideas for that that I might do if you guys want it, but if now, it's over. Cheerio!

The beeping scared him.

He hated hospitals. Always had, his first memory of a hospital was of when his grandmother had passed away. She always had such a bright smile on her face, but when she was there she was tired and quiet. He blamed the hospital for making her that way, not the cancer that took her away from him.

Then Cooper got hit by a car while riding his bike. He didn't see him before he was taken to the hospital, didn't know that he was broken before he got there. All he knew was that his brother was pale and in casts and in the same place that had made his granny so lifeless. It had to be the hospitals fault that he was like that. No one ever told him otherwise.

Eventually he realized that people went to the hospital when they were already sick and hurt and that the hospital helped make them better. It was because of the hospital that Cooper healed and was still able to play football with them. It was thanks to them that he still had a brother. It was thanks to them that he survived Sadie Hawkins and almost being blinded by a slushie.

That still didn't mean he liked them.

The beeping sped up as he realized where he was, partially from fear and dread, and partially because he was handcuffed to the bed. His eyes flutter open, his heart racing as his head darted from side to side.

There was a figure beside him, hidden in the darkness of the hospital room, he tried to move to the other side of the bed but the restraints kept him firmly in place. His chest ached at his rapid breathing, his vision distorting and blurring as pain shot through him, caused by his struggling.

The figure started to shift in their chair.

"No, no, please," he voice was hoarse, "help," he tried to scream but his voice cracked and it came out a broken whisper.

"Blaine," the figure reached a hand toward him.

"No, no, Eli, please, please, I'm sorry, I—"

The person moved away from him, crossing the room to the door. His heart clenched painfully tight, scared of what they would do next, and not really wanting to be left alone again, as crazy a thought as that were.

A bright light assaulted his eyes and he winced, turning his head into the pillow to try and shield them. The footsteps walked slowly back across the room and they sat in the chair again, waiting in silence for him to acknowledge them. He just whimpered, pulling futily against the cuff.

"I told them not to put those on you," the voice spoke gently, and it wasn't the rough tenor he was used to, it was high and bright with a twinge of sadness. He knew the voice… but he didn't dare hope. "You were fighting them so much when they brought you in, they had to sedate you, I told them that wasn't a good idea either, I know how out of it you are after you've been sedated, but they didn't listen to me. They cuffed you to try and keep you still for when you woke up, they didn't want you hurting yourself. But it's throwing you back there, back to that basement, you think he's here, you think I'm—"

The voice broke off and they took a deep shuddering breath, "Blaine, please look at me. He's not here… it's just me. You're safe now, I promise."

Blaine fought against the urge to turn his head. It wasn't him, it was some sick trick of Eli's, getting his hopes up to tear them down. He'd drugged him again and now he was hallucinating, he wasn't actually here, he couldn't be.

The part of Blaine that wanted to believe it was stronger, the part of him that still ridiculously believed that there was some good in the world and good things could still happen to him… that part won out in the end.

He turned his head, blinking against the light and looked at the voice. They were much closer than he had expected, leaning over the side of the bed, face buried in their hands as they cried quietly, their shoulders shaking. He sucked in a surprised breath at the bandage wrapped around their head, partially obscuring the soft chestnut locks.

He couldn't see his face, he didn't want to believe it, he couldn't believe it…

"Kurt?" he whispered softly, the name like a prayer on his tongue, a desperate plea for something he wasn't sure he deserved.

Kurt's head shot up, his glasz eyes wide and red rimmed, but a shaky smile appeared on his face as he reached out to cup Blaine's cheek gently. "Hey, you."

"What happened to your head?" Blaine asked, his eyes filled with worry, "Are you okay?" Kurt almost laughed, here Blaine was, having been held hostage for over a month and continuously raped during that time, he had four broken ribs and a punctured lung, plus a massive concussion and some serious psychological damage and yet all he cared about was if Kurt was alright.

"It's nothing, I'm fine," a few more tears slipped down his cheek and Blaine brow furrowed.

"Why are you crying?"

"You're here, Blaine, you're safe, I thought…" Kurt's voice cracked, "I thought I'd never see you again."

Blaine nuzzled his face into Kurt's hand, not abled to much more in the way of comforting him, "I'm here, it's okay, Kurt, I'm here." He kissed Kurt's palm sweetly.

Kurt shook his head, "Don't, don't do that."

Blaine froze, pulling away from Kurt, he tried to sound indifferent as he spoke but his heart was shattering, "Okay, of course, I get it, you don't… I wouldn't want me either. I'm-I'm broken and d-dirty—" Blaine hiccupped, trying to fight away tears, "I under—"

"No, Blaine, no," Kurt grabbed his face, forcing Blaine to meet his eyes. Blaine's lips quivered, his whole body shaking, "It's not, that's not it. I don't want you comforting me, after all you've been through, that's my job. But listen to me, you are not broken or dirty, you are the strongest person I know and that is not up for debate. No one can go through what you did and survive without being strong.

"We will not try to fix you, what we will be doing is helping you move past it, not forget it because I don't think that's possible, but move on and realize that this does not define you. What Eli did to you does not decide who you are, how you continue on after is what decides that, understand? You are not broken."

Blaine nodded dumbly, his eyes wide and tear filled.

"Good," Kurt smiled at him, "Now, I'm going to go get the nurse, and your parents, are you going to be okay by yourself for a little bit, or should I use the buzzer?"

Blaine thought for a minute, "I think I'll…" he didn't want to be a burden. He didn't know how long Kurt had been sitting there before he woke up, he didn't even know how long he'd been asleep. But he didn't want to be alone, if he was alone Eli could get to him, whether he was a hallucination or not, Blaine knew the second he was left to his own thoughts Eli would return. "Can you stay?"

"Of course," Kurt took Blaine's hand gently and reached over to press the button to summon the nurse in.

—

"Mr. Hummel, you really should get some rest yourself, your head injury isn't small by any means," the nurse chided as she finished up checking on Blaine. She didn't sound too stern though, knowing he probably wouldn't listen.

"I'm fine, Blaine needs me," he said, squeezing Blaine's hand and giving him a soft, comforting smile. Blaine didn't return it, his brow furrowed in worry.

"Your bed is five feet away from his, Mr. Hummel."

"You never told me what happened to your head," Blaine told him, "I… he squeezed his eyes shut, thinking hard and grimacing at the awful pounding that started up in his head, "I don't even know how I got here. Why…" his breath hitched and he looked at Kurt with pleading eyes, "why can't I remember?"

"It's just some slight memory loss, sweetie," the nurse told him, giving him a sympathetic smile, "you have a concussion and you went through a very traumatic experience, the memories should come back eventually."

"But—" he hiccupped loudly, "what if it's a dream. I can't remember because this isn't really. I'll-I'll wake up and he'll still be there—"

"Blaine," Kurt cut him off grasping his face, "this is real, I promise you. I'm here, and this is real. You're really safe, okay?"

"But—" he looked down at the cuffs still holding him to the bed and started shaking his head pitifully, "I don't… it can't be—"

"If you calm down, the nurse can take those off, okay? Would you like that? Do you want them gone?"

Blaine nodded quickly, ignoring the way his head protested to the movement.

"Okay, breathe with me, honey," Kurt told him, their face inches apart. He took deep exaggerated breaths, encouraging Blaine to copy him, finally Blaine calmed down, the tenseness leaking out of his muscles as he sank back against the pillows on the bed, "Good, good, very good."

The nurse came around and quickly unhooked his hands, Kurt took them both in his, squeezing them gently where they rested on Blaine's chest. Blaine gave him a weak smile, his eyes fluttering shut for a second.

The nurse finished filling out Blaine's chart before looking back at the two boys with a small smile. "Do you want to see your parents, Blaine?" she asked.

He blinked up at her, his eyes widening slightly, "Are they here?"

"Yes, they're in the waiting room right now since visiting hours are over, but we can let them in since you're awake. I'm sure they'd be happy to see you."

Blaine nodded, "Yeah, yeah, I'd like that."

—

"Oh, my baby boy," Silvina rushed into the room, instantly gathering Blaine up in her arms. He winced, but made no move to stop her, hugging her back gingerly, a slightly confused look on his face.

"Silvina, be careful, darling," Daniel said, his voice rough with lack of sleep, "you don't want to hurt him."

Blaine's brow furrowed further. Had his dad just called his mom darling? A pet name?

"I know," she sniffled, pulling back and kissing Blaine on the cheek, "I'm just… I never thought I'd see you again," she finished, giving Blaine a watery smile.

"It's okay, Mom," he muttered quietly, "I'm here."

Silvina let out a soft sob gripping Blaine's hand tightly and holding it next to her face, kissing his knuckles every few seconds, like she was continually reminding herself that he really was here and not just a figment of her distraught imagination.

He looked back to his father, who was standing there, studying every inch of his son, his eyes flickering to catch every movement, memorizing the way his eyelashes fluttered when he blinked or the way he held Kurt's and his mother's hands, firmly, like he never wanted to let go again.

He smiled at him when their eyes met, a few tears springing into his eyes. He was here. He was real. He was alive.

Blaine's brow was furrowed in confusion at the look his father was giving him, so openly warm and loving in a way he never had been before, not even when Blaine had needed it most. How had that changed? Whathad changed it?

"Daddy?" he questioned softly, his voice strained and his eyes hopeful.

"I'm here, buddy," Daniel hugged his son more cautiously than his wife had, holding him close to his chest while trying to avoid making him let go of Kurt's and Silvina's hands. Blaine didn't care, he let go anyway and grasped his father, crying into his shoulder, "I love you, son, I'm so glad you're home."

"I l-love you too," Blaine stuttered, wiping at his eyes when his father finally pulled away. Daniel smiled brightly at him, sitting back and pulling Silvina into his lap.

Kurt watched the family interaction, a grin on his face. Blaine was hurt, he wasn't broken, but he wasn't fully okay either. But with this kind of support… he'd make it through.