“We’re here at the 2015 Emmy’s watching all the stars walking down the red carpet, they’ll come right by us and we’ll get what they’re wearing and how they’re feeling tonight, stick around!”

“And here is the star of the movie remake of Funny Girl, Miss Rachel Berry. How are you tonight beautiful?”

“Hi Ryan! I’m great thank you!”

“Nervous?”

“No! True stars are never nervous…I’m kidding! I’m terrified!”

“Hahaha well do you think you’ll carry on your roll and win again this evening?”

“I’m not sure, I mean there are a lot of other actresses up for Best Actress this evening that are so amazing but I was born for this role so I hope but I’ll be clapping just as loud for everyone else.”

“Very diplomatic, so who are you wearing this evening?”

“I’m wearing KBH of course! Kurt would disown me for wearing anything less.”

“True, true. KBH seems to be the label of the evening, are you proud?”

“Of course! Kurt’s come so far and I’m so excited to wear his clothing. He made this for me actually, do you like it?”

“It’s incredible. A definite contender for best dressed this evening. How about your date this evening? Cooper Anderson, how are you sir?”

“I’m great thank you Ryan, how are you?”

“I’m very well thank you. Here to cheer on your girlfriend this evening, how proud are you?”

“Incredibly proud. She’s amazing. I can’t think of anyone better for the role, well apart from the infamous lady herself.”

“Of course, so are you wearing your brother in law’s label too or are you chancing rejection tonight?”

“I’m not that brave Ryan.”

“Haha fair point, so where are the Hummels at the moment?”

“Blaine’s in…”

“Italy.”

“Right, Italy right now and Kurt’s with him. They’re back in the states in a few weeks.”

“Awesome, well good luck Rachel and have a great evening. That was Rachel Berry, up for Best Actress tonight.”

Kurt pressed end and sighed. He looked around the hotel room and listened to the quiet noises of Rome filtering through the window. Noises of traffic, people calling out to each other in a language he was only just grasping and coffee joined the noise of his breathing and the shower in the next room. The shower cut off and the door opened, Kurt turned towards the sound of Blaine humming and watched his husband.

“You ok?” Blaine asked, rubbing his hair with his towel.

Kurt nodded and blew out a breath. “Yeah. That was Isabelle. I, um…Blaine I need to go back to Los Angeles.”

“What?” Blaine’s face fell. “I thought you were taking a break so you could be here with me.”

Kurt nodded and started walking around the bed, putting some distance between him and the other man. “Yes, I did but some things have come up and they want me to go over them and I need to go talk to some people, there’s things I need to do too Blaine.”

Blaine’s eyebrows turned into hard likes as he glared at Kurt. “Things you need to do too? I’m not keeping you here Kurt. I asked you to come because I needed your support and you agreed. You wanted to be here.”

“I’m not saying you’re keeping me here Blaine I just need to do this and I honestly think it might help you to do this alone too.” Kurt responded.

“Excuse me? Since when are you my therapist?”  Blaine demanded.

Kurt finally looked up and glared at his husband. “I’m not your therapist Blaine I’m your husband. I help you choose what’s best for you. I need to go and you need to finish your tour. This isn’t me abandoning you. I have a job to do.” He shouted.

Blaine’s face morphed into a look of fury and Kurt stepped back slightly. The younger man grabbed Kurt’s suitcase and threw the few things he’d unpacked back into it then stormed past him into the bathroom to grab the few things in there. When he was done he stood the suitcase at Kurt’s feet and got into his face, Kurt was still as a statue, barely breathing. “Fine, go,” Blaine hissed. “You do whatever you’re going to do, go back to LA and have a fucking fantastic time.” He grabbed Kurt’s hand and shoved the handle into it then pointed him to the door. In his state of confusion and shock he went and looked back as the door closed.

“I love you.” He whispered and barely heard the response as he left the fuming man behind.

He sighed and knocked on the next door down the corridor. Jason opened it; the man was here to show Blaine encouragement on the last few weeks of his European tour and to have a holiday. He was smiling but it dropped off his face when he saw Kurt.

“Kurt? Are you ok?” He asked.

Kurt shook his head and looked back at the door, trying hard not to listen to the faint sounds of sobbing as he knew Blaine was sitting against the door. “Can you give me a lift to the airport please?” He whispered.

Jason nodded and grabbed his coat, ushering Kurt down the hall and out of the hotel.

The phone rang as Kurt stepped out of the car, asking Jason to watch over Blaine for him.

“Hey,” The voice on the other end said as he answered. “How did it go?”

Kurt sighed. “It scares me how easy it is to lie to him.”

“It’s for the best dude.”

“I know, but I can’t help thinking I’ve just made a huge mistake.”

“I’m sorry. See you tomorrow.”

Blaine lay across his bed, tears blurring his eyes. He’d watched Kurt leave – thrown him out, his mind supplied – four days ago. He’d carried on as Kurt had instructed but every time he wasn’t singing he locked himself away and cried. When he was on stage his eyes searched the crowd for the face that wasn’t there. Part of him knew what he’d said to Kurt was wrong, and he was right. Kurt had work and Blaine had to get himself through things but he’d spent most of his American tour without Kurt damnit, why now?

He breathed deeply and got up, walking over to the bathroom. He stared in the mirror then his eyes fell to the small wash bag. The razor and scissors glinted invitingly at him. How easy it would be. Dully he knew that it was just a fight, irrational words thrown around but right now it felt like the end. The ring on his finger tapped against the sink as he gripped it. He looked down. If he took it off it would say ‘I will love you until my dying day’ inside. He looked up at red-rimmed eyes and reached for the scissors.

His phone blared Kurt’s ringtone in the quiet bathroom, bouncing off the walls and into his ears. Damn the acoustics were good. He grabbed the phone and pressed answer, his eyes still on the scissors.

“Kurt?” He asked.

“Blaine, my dad’s gone.”  Kurt whispered, voice cracking on the word gone. Blaine crashed to the floor and his mind went back to before the European tour.

Burt sat down across from Blaine and Kurt, looking at them both seriously, almost weeping at their confused faces. “Boys, I have something to tell you. It’s not easy and after everything you’ve been through you shouldn’t have to go through this too but I can’t put it off any longer.” He trails off and looks at them again. Blaine’s head is tilted in the look he’s come to label as his ‘huh?’ face and Kurt’s eyes have become red rimmed and his cheeks are slowly turning the same shade, a sign that Kurt knows exactly what he’d trying to say.

“Dad…” Kurt whispers and Burt holds up a hand, knowing if he doesn’t say it, he never will.

“I have cancer. Now don’t get upset, they caught it early and I’m having the operation, here in LA, in a few days’ time, that’s partly why I’m here, apart from to see you two. The likelihood of survival is high and if everything goes right, I should be ok in no time.” He says and barely dares to look up but he does, and the sight breaks his heart as both the boys he loves as his son and adopted son-slash- son in law crumple into themselves. Blaine turns bright red and bursts out crying while Kurt screeches at him, his arms going around his devastated husband.

“Don’t get upset? Dad we could lose you! Dad we need you, we lost mom, I only had you for so long and Blaine has no-one but you! You can’t- dad we need you!” Kurt cries and Burt starts to reply when Blaine, who’s been crying hysterically and almost tearing his hair out since Burt stopped talking stands up and storms out, almost running straight into the wall in his haste with tears blurring his eyes.

Burt starts to reach out, to say something but Kurt stands and holds up a finger to stop him and grates out. “Don’t.” He storms out and the bedroom door slams shut, locking before Burt can think of standing up.

He’s still sitting there hours later in the dark and falling asleep when he feels the arms of the seat dip and warmth wraps around him before two sets of lips kiss his forehead and a warm voice that’s not the child he brought up, but the one he showed how whispers in his ear. “We’ll take care of you, dad.”

They were lucky, and Burt was right, they’d caught it early and he was relaxing, taking it easy as he recovered. That was months ago.

“I’ll be right there.” He mumbled and went to pack his things, cradling his phone to his ear so they could hear each other breathe. A trip next door told him that Jason had already been told and his shows cancelled for family circumstances. He was needed at home.

The air in DC was clean, fresh and Blaine breathed it in. Cooper met him at the airport, his eyes wet and his hug almost bone crushing. He sobbed apologies into his hair and Blaine suddenly felt the weight of the lie told to spare him fall into him. How many knew but him?

The funeral was quiet; many people came to pay their respects. Blaine stuck by Kurt’s side, holding his hand, received condolences from people he barely knew and hugs from people he loved. Kurt clung to him and he gave him the attention and love he deserved, the model of the good husband but inside the scissors flashed through his vision. How close he’d come because his family chose what was best.

The second they were alone by Burt’s graveside Kurt looked at him. “I’m sorry, Blaine.” He said softly.

Blaine nodded. “I love you Kurt, with every fibre of my being but if you lie to me again this marriage is over.”

Kurt nodded and they hugged before Kurt went to find Carole.

“Harsh, dude.” Finn’s voice broke the silence behind him.

“Maybe,” Blaine responded. “But if you were me Finn, you would see the scissors in the bathroom four days after your husband walked out as the only way you knew,” Finn’s gasp told him the words had hit home and he took a deep breath, looking over the mound. “My husband told me he was needed in LA. He was, but if you think that my mind needs to be made up for me, I need none of you in my life.”

“Dude, stop.” Finn says, openly crying.

Blaine turns around and looks up at him. “I’m my father’s son Finn, remember? Only Kurt makes me human again and I need you all, him more than anything but you can’t keep choosing for me.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt’s voice whispers and Blaine looks at him. “I sometimes forget you’re never going to see just scissors, or just razors.”

Blaine shakes his head and opens his arms for Kurt to walk into. He wraps them tight around his husband and kisses his forehead. “No, but keep me safe and I won’t always see a way out.”

That night they trace each other’s bodies long after their loved ones are gone, slipping away to their own loves and own places after bidding a fond farewell to Burt Hummel and remembering the amazing man.

They quietly sing to each other, eyes locked and fingers threaded.

I can understand how when the edges are rough
And they cut you like the tiniest slivers of glass
And you feel too much
And you don't know how long you're gonna last,

But everyone you know, is tryin' smooth it over,
Find a way to make the hurt go away,
But everyone you know, is tryin' smooth it over,
Like you're trying to scream underwater,
But, I won't let you make the great escape,
I'm never gonna watch you checkin out of this place
I'm not gonna lose you
Cause the passion and the pain
Are gonna keep you alive someday
Gonna keep you alive someday

I feel like I could wave my fist in front of your face
And you wouldn't flinch or even feel a thing
And you've retreated to your silent corner
Like you decided the fight was over for ya,

Everyone you know, is tryin' smooth it over,
Find a way to make the hurt go away,
Everyone you know, is tryin' smooth it over,
Everyone needs a floor they can fall through
I won't let you make the great escape,
I'm never gonna watch you checkin outta this place
I'm not gonna lose you
Cause the passion and pain
Are gonna keep you alive someday
They're gonna keep you alive someday

I'm terrified of the dark, but not if you go with me
And I don't need a pill to make me numb
And I wrote the book on runnin',
But that chapter of my life will soon be done

I'm the king of the great escape
You're not gonna watch me checkin outta this place
You're not gonna lose me
Cause the passion and pain
Are gonna keep us alive, someday
Yeah the passion and the pain
Are gonna keep us alive someday, someday

There's a whole n'other conversation going on.
In a parallel universe.
Where nothing breaks and nothing hurts.
There's a waltz playing frozen in time.
Blades of grass on tiny bare feet.
I look at you and you're looking at me.

Could you beam me up?
Give me a minute; I don't know what I'd say in it.
I'd probably just stare,
Happy just to be there holding your face.
Beam me up.
Let me be lighter, tired of being a fighter.
I think, a minutes enough.
Just beam me up.

Some black birds soaring in the sky.
Barely a breath I caught one last sight.
Tell me that was you, saying goodbye.
There are times I feel the shiver and cold.
It only happens when I'm on my own.
That's how you tell me I'm not alone.

Could you beam me up?
Give me a minute; I don't know what I'd say in it.
I'd probably just stare,
Happy just to be there holding your face.
Beam me up.
Let me be lighter, tired of being a fighter.
I think, a minutes enough.
Just beam me up.

In my head, I see your baby blues.
I hear your voice and I,
I break in two and now there's one of me with you.

So when I need you can I send you a sign?
I'll burn a candle and turn off the lights.
I'll pick a star and watch you shine.

Could you beam me up?
Give me a minute,
I don't know what I'd say in it.
I'd probably just stare,
Happy just to be there holding your face.
Beam me up.
Let me be lighter, tired of being a fighter.
I think, a minutes enough.
Just beam me up.
Beam me up.
Beam me up.
Could you beam me up?