The next day Blaine demanded no one come visit Kurt, except for the immediate family, which of course included Puck too. Kurt had been extremely depressed from the beginning of the day, and Blaine made him agree that he needed some rest from seeing all of those people without break.

Kurt spent the entire day drifting in and out of sleep, making Blaine refuse to leave his chair. He kept telling people that he was tired himself, but silently he knew that he was refusing to leave so he could stay and keep an eye on Kurt’s breathing. This had been such a regular pastime for him lately, and he felt horrible that he thought it was needed, but it made him calm to observe Kurt’s rising and falling chest keeping its steady pace.

*

Blaine felt that Kurt’s hand were getting even colder. He could see that his lips were more dry and purple than they used to be, and he was darker around the eyes. Blaine wanted to scream and trash the entire room, but he knew that it wouldn’t help.
As Kurt opened his eyes Blaine hurried to wipe the tears from his eyes and squeeze his hand gently, afraid to crush it with too hard of a grip.

“Hey beautiful. How did you sleep?” He was struggling to keep his voice even, but as he saw how empty Kurt’s eyes seemed he knew it was bound to betray him.

“Don’t. I know I look horrible.” Kurt’s own voice was rasp and it sounded as if he had been on a major bender the night before - but that was the way he had sounded for a long time now. He hadn’t been able to sing for weeks, and Blaine was desperately missing his voice.

“That’s not true. To me you’ll always be beautiful,” said Blaine as he fought for a smile to break through on his lips.
Suddenly Kurt’s face became very firm, and Blaine knew that he was about to talk about what they didn’t talk about. Blaine also knew that this was what Kurt had spent all the previous day and the whole night on gathering up the energy to say.

Kurt knew that Blaine would refuse to discuss it, because deep down he knew that it was necessary - that it was so close now.
Blaine looked out of the window, and then back to the white sheets and the tubes running from Kurt’s nostrils as transparent snakes trying to suck the life out of him.

“I know that - you don’t wanna hear this, but please.. listen to me.” Kurt was begging, and his steel gray eyes were stronger than Blaine had seen them in a very long time.
He didn’t say anything, but merely bit his lower lip in agreement.

“When - it happens; I don’t want you to stop singing. I want you to sing songs and be happy. Find someone to share your life with. I want you to live, Blaine. I want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy, Blaine.” Kurt started coughing critically as he ended the last sentence, and for a second Blaine feared that he had to call for help, but Kurt used all his power to tighten his grip around Blaine’s hand to stop him from doing so.

“Please,” was all he could say. He clearly didn’t have any more strength, and Blaine just wished that he could make him sleep some more, but he knew that this wasn’t over until he had given Kurt his promise.

“But I don’t want to be happy with anyone but you. I don’t think I can.” This was it. His voice broke, and he let the tears fall.
“Kurt, I love you. I can’t see myself with anyone but you. You know that. Whenever I sing I am singing for you.” For a brief second he wanted to slap Kurt for even suggesting him to be with someone else, but just as quickly he wanted to kiss him deep and passionately for just wishing for him to be happy even when he would be gone himself.

“I know that, Blaine. But I don’t want to stand in your way for happiness. You should meet someone and fall in love - get married and have kids. I wish we could have all those things together, but - we can’t.” Kurt was heaving for breath and his cheeks were turning blue, so Blaine hurried to get the oxygen mask on the machine next to the bed.

He gently placed the mask over Kurt’s mouth and let his hand caress his hair. Kurt’s forehead was cold and clammy from the fever, and as Blaine let his fingers through the hair on the back of his head he realized that a lump of hair was sticking to his palm.

Blaine panicked and shoved the hair into his pocket to protect Kurt from seeing it. He knew that Kurt would be devastated if he found out that he was losing his hair. Blaine did promise that he would tell him if it happened, but all of that seemed so distant now; like a different life.

Blaine saw it as an investment in Kurt’s happiness, so he didn’t see it as breaking his promise - after all; he had made another promise to keep Kurt happy no matter what, and Blaine valued that so much more than anything else.

“Tina called yesterday. She wanted to know how you’re feeling, and then she asked if her and Mike could stop by soon.” Blaine put on a brave smile as he watched the love of his life struggle just to put on an excited spark in his eyes.

“I told her that your dad and Finn are coming today, so we agreed that they’ll come over Friday. They’re really looking forward to see you.” Blaine had sat down in the chair that he had grown so attached to over the last month that Kurt had been in the hospital.

He didn’t want to tell Kurt but he was starting to consider dropping out of college for now. He was so far behind now that he couldn’t see any way to pass, and he was determined not to leave Kurt’s side until he was better. He wouldn’t even consider the alternative - that Kurt might not go home in the end.

Blaine was still clinging to the dream that their future together featured more travels and their marriage growing into house and kids, even though a voice inside him kept screaming that he should wake up and face the reality. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He had the sense that the second he started pushing away the dream that Kurt would come home and they would continue their life together that would be the second Kurt would lose the fight.
He looked down on plastic ring on his finger, the ring that matched the one on Kurt’s hand, and let it bring back the memories.

Kurt did his best to let his thumb caress Blaine’s but had to give up halfway. He just didn’t have the energy to it. Instead he tried desperately to hide a yawn in the pillow, but Blaine couldn’t let it slide.
“Oh baby, are you tired?” Blaine started to fumble with his pillows to make it more comfortable for him to sleep.
 
“I don’t wanna sleep. I wanna spend time with you,” Kurt pouted, a voice that resembled one of a stubborn child.
“But sweetie, you’re exhausted. You need to get some rest. I won’t leave you. I’m gonna stay right here by your side even when you’re sleeping.”

Kurt still looked unsatisfied, but he clearly knew that the battle was lost.
“Would you please sing for me then?” It was the same every time he was to sleep; Kurt would ask him to sing for him, using a pleading voice and Blaine would ask which song even though the answer never changed. Surely it was the same today.

“The one you sang the day we met - but the slow version. Please.” And Blaine faithfully started the slow song about how Kurt was his teenage dream, while he watched his eyelids drift closed and he would fall asleep.

And what happened afterwards was also the same every day; as soon as he was sure that Kurt was fast asleep he would break down. He had promised himself not to let Kurt see how destroyed he was inside, and he still hadn’t lost control in front of him.

“Hey son. Come here.” Blaine had been sitting with his face hidden in the sheets when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
Burt and Finn had entered the hospital room to find a crying Blaine next to the bed.

As soon as Blaine heard Burt’s voice and felt his hand he got up from his chair to let himself disappear in the arms of his father-in-law. Burt slowly started stroking his hair letting him get it all out.
“He’s just so young. It’s not fair,” was all Blaine could get out between the sobs as he looked up.

Finn was pale and had his gaze locked on Kurt in the bed. He looked so tiny and fragile; as if he would shatter from a blow of the wind or a door getting slammed. Lately he had lost a lot of weight and the chemo was sucking out all of his strength.

Some days he could be full of life and chat wildly about everything, and other days he wouldn’t even have the energy to say two words. Blaine had never been so scared in his life, and it was excruciating to hide it. He just felt that he wouldn’t bother Kurt with it - he had enough to deal with.

“I know, son. I tell myself the same thing every day,” Burt said in a silent voice. His touch was consoling and fatherly which only made Blaine feel his heart shatter just a tad more.

*

It was incredibly uncomfortable to be outside the hospital instead of in Kurt’s room. Blaine kept shifting on the bench, and looked nervously around the yard, like he was breaking the law and would get caught any minute now.

“Hey man. Sorry I’m late. Thanks for coming, I know how much you don’t wanna leave Kurt alone.” Sam sat down on the bench next to Blaine, his face grave and his voice apologetic.

“That’s alright. I mean - Burt and Finn are with him, and Puck and Carol are up there too so… yeah.” Blaine was struggling to keep his mind straight on the barely started conversation, but he couldn’t. His thoughts kept drifting upstairs with Kurt, while his fingers fumbled with his phone in his pocket to make sure he didn’t miss a text or a call.

“You’re so strong, man. I really admire you. How you just sit there and not let anything get to you. You’re just there for him, you know. Anyway, that’s not why I asked you to meet me here.” Sam drew a heavy breath as if he needed to talk himself into saying what he was about to say.

“I - yesterday I just came to think that - well, I know you and I don’t really know each other that well. At all, actually. But -” he paused, closing his eyes before he grabbed the bull by the horns.

“You’ve been so good to Kurt, And he loves you so much, and you clearly love him, and - I just thought how hard this must be for you. I mean, it’s so hard on all of us, and we’re not married to him. I really love him, he’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had -” Sam trailed off, and Blaine had a bad feeling about where this was going so he cut in before he could stray anymore from what he was avoiding to say.

“Sam. We love you too, but could you please get to the point?” Blaine was impatient, and each second he wasn’t by Kurt’s side felt like it was growing closer.

“Yeah. Sorry. It’s just - if Kurt, you know… I just want you to know that I still want us to be friends. Cause I really like you, Blaine, and I really want you to know that even though we’ve never really talked you can come to me.” Sam’s eyes persistently held Blaine’s own locked making Blaine unsure of how to react.

How could he say such a thing? How could he even consider thinking the possibility? How could he take the words in his mouth and burst them out at Blaine like that?

“What the hell are you talking about? Nothing is going to happen to Kurt. He’s gonna be just fine. He’s just having a bad week, that’s all. In a few days he’ll be up and about in no time. You’re such a jackass, Evans. Just - leave us the fuck alone,” Blaine snapped before he hurried off the bench and marched towards the hospital entrance.

After he’d walked a few feet he felt it like a bucket of ice cubes were dropped over his head, running through his scalp and spreading to his body.
Blaine couldn’t fight it; he stopped in the middle of the path and clasped his hands to his face tears overflowing his face, not caring who was looking or whispering about him.

Sam was right.

But before Blaine could get a hold of his brain again he felt a couple of arms embrace him, dragging him close, stroking his back.
Needles were piercing and punctuating every cell in his body, and fire was licking up his throat from the roars that was fighting to get out but only got caught.

He just realized that he had completely forgotten how people outside the hospital smelled like. The smell of cancer had become so normal to him that he didn’t even consider it anymore, and he felt horrible now that it hit him.

Sam’s arms felt strong and comforting around him, and Blaine just let it all out. He was sobbing hysterically, boring his fingers into Sam’s back while having to stop himself from biting hard down in the boy’s shoulder in a desperate attempt to make the pain go away.

“I am so sorry, man. I didn’t mean to - I just though that I’d…” But Sam stopped talking. It was like he knew that there wasn’t anything to say. That this was the moment Blaine had opened himself to the inevitable. What was coming.

Blaine’s muscles felt like jelly, and he was sure that the only thing keeping him from falling to his knees on the pavement was Sam holding him up.
He started hyperventilating through his crying, and bit so hard on his lip that he reached a point where he didn’t know whether it was tears or blood that was soaking his chin against Sam’s jacket.

Blaine’s eyes started itching as the tear trails on his face turned icy from the cold wind, and he wondered if he had completely dehydrated his body from crying. It wouldn’t surprise him, he felt like he had been crying for hours, Sam not saying a word but simply stroking his hair and a hand brushing him up and down the back.

“He’s gonna die. Isn’t he?” Blaine’s voice was thick. He almost didn’t recognize it himself.
He didn’t look at Sam. He was afraid to see the horror of honesty painted over his face.

Blaine let go of Sam and closed his eyes before he squeezed the boy’s arm and walked back to the hospital, hearing Sam’s footsteps only a few feet after him.

*

Sam had headed off again after their talk in the path outside. He had promised to come visit them the next day, and told Blaine to hold his head high.
“Thank you. Again. For loving Kurt the way you do,” Sam had said as the last thing before he had walked across the parking lot leaving Blaine to enter the hospital alone.

Blaine had taken up the well known walk from the entrance hall to the elevators.
Once he stood inside the elevator and was to press the number 12 button he looked at the metal board with the index of the different floors of the hospital.

As his eyes met fourth floor he pressed the button without realizing he had done it until the doors opened and he stepped out.

He hadn’t done this before, and he had no idea why he was doing it now. Wasn’t this purposeless?

The floor was silent, only the hushed voices of doctors and nurses talking behind closed office doors, and the steps of people walking at the end of the hall, or the elevator proceeding to another floor behind him.

Some kind of magnetic wire was pulling inside him, telling him that this was the only thing he hadn’t even spared a thought, so why shouldn’t he try it?

Blaine stopped in the hallway, looking at the door in front of him, not knowing whether or not to open it or turn his back and walk away.
He felt frozen to the spot, and knew that he had to make a decision to not be in the way of people who were actually interested in going in, so he cleared his head, swallowed and pushed open the door.

The chapel was small and the atmosphere was pressing against his chest when he stepped inside. The room was only lit by the sunlight streaming through the colored mosaics and the lit candles at a table near the altar, causing Blaine to blink a few times to let his eyes get used to the dark.
It felt like the world had been put on mute, and if he said a word he would be punished gravely.

Not a single person was in sight, and Blaine felt a weight fall off his shoulders. He was still not sure why he had come here, and he couldn’t cope with the thought of running into someone, and maybe having to interact with them in the form of a recognizing smile, or polite small talk - or maybe even someone trying to dig into why he was even at the hospital in the first place.

Blaine walked down the aisle to stand in front of the burning candles, feeling them blaze into his eyes, not caring about the stinging it caused his eye apples.

He turned to grab a match, and led his hand to light a candle in the midst of the already firing ones.

He stood for a moment observing the flames flickering in the colored glass and the shiny mahogany that was the benches before he soundlessly walked over to sit at the bench behind the first one.

He stared at the sad lifeless figure portraying Jesus on the cross hanging above the altar.
The sculpture looked bizarre and scary with the dark eyes and the mouth opened in a grotesque grimace, the blood running from the crown of thorns on his head, his skinny body presented in a weak posture in front of him.

The image made Blaine’s insides turn to knots and he was sure that his breakfast was struggling to hold itself down.

Blaine inhaled heavily before he closed his eyes, folded his hands and exhaled.

“O God and Heavenly Father,
Grant to us the serenity of mind to accept that which cannot be changed;
Courage to change that which can be changed,
And wisdom to know the one from the other
Through
Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen”

Blaine had completely caught himself off guard. He had completely forgot that he even knew that prayer. He hadn’t been to a church since he was a kid at his grandmother’s funeral. His grandparents had been very religious people, and he recalled how he had visited them as a child and they had recited verses from the Bible to him.

When Blaine had just turned 15 he had decided that it had to be time. He came out to his mom one rainy November evening, he had cried and apologized for keeping it secret, and begged her not to tell his father. The next day he had come out to the only other gay guy in his school, and when he had come home hell had broke loose; a guy from the grade above him had overheard him and his friend talking about it. The guy’s father worked with Blaine’s father and it had all been an avalanche from there.

Blaine’s father had screamed at him, calling him a sinner, a disgrace to the family name. Blaine had cried and apologized, ending with his father placing a flat slap on his cheek yelling at him to go to his room.

His mom had come to his room and held him in her arms, rocking him back and forth whilst stroking his hair and told him that it was going to be okay, that his father just needed some time to adjust to the thought.

That’s when she had whispered the prayer in his ear to console him, tried her best to show him that she would love him no matter what, that he would always be her son, and in time he would be able to accept himself, and he would be strong in doing so.

“Please, God. Help Kurt get better; help him get out of this. He’s the most beautiful soul I have ever met. He’s a good person and he doesn’t deserve this. I will do anything, anything, as long as You will help him get better. Please…. Amen,” Blaine prayed in his mind, not daring to speak the words out loud. If there really was a God He would hear his prayers anyway, wouldn’t He?

*

When Blaine entered Kurt’s room he found Kurt sitting up in his bed a smile on his lips. He looked completely different than what he had when he had fallen asleep a few hours earlier. Like the spark was back in his eyes, and his optimistic spirit even stronger than it had been for weeks.

“Blaine. You’re back? I’ve missed you so much,” Kurt said, even his voice more like his own. It didn’t sound as rasp as it had been for a long time.
When he was so well fit like this the tubes running into his nose, and the machines around him looked misplaced and irrationally overdone.

“Of course I came back. Did you have a good nap?” Blaine sat down on the side of the bed and put his arms around Kurt to hug him.
Blaine buried his nose in Kurt’s hair, breathing in the scent of his hair, squeezing to feel his touch of Kurt’s body against his own.

“Yeah. I did. I had this lovely dream. We had our own house, and a little backyard and we were all grown up,” Kurt said in a hushed voice as he leaned back against the pillows and began playing with the ring on Blaine’s finger.

Kurt kept complete focus on the ring for a few moments, Blaine smiling crookedly at his childlike game, when Kurt did a quick moment and moved all close to Blaine’s face. So close that Blaine could feel Kurt’s hot breath on his lips. He was completely mesmerized by how shiny Kurt’s eyes were in that particular moment.

“I dreamed that I came home and walked through our house, and in our backyard you were sitting - grown up, gorgeous as ever. But - you were playing with this beautiful little girl. Blaine, she had your eyes, and your curls. We had a daughter, and it felt so right,” Kurt whispered under his breath.

Stars were playing around in his eyes, and Blaine was certain that he wouldn’t be able to stop smiling if he tried. There was a completely different glow to him than Blaine had ever seen.

“That sounds lovely. I hope she had your smile. I want a baby girl with your smile,” Blaine responded with a chuckle.
The painful truth he had only just faced spooked in the back of his head, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

And what if things had changed?

Here they were, Kurt so full of energy and good mood, sprinkling with optimism and dreams. There might still be hope. The last the doctors had said was that they didn’t want to rule out all hopes yet, because there might still be a chance for Kurt.
What if this was the miracle they had been waiting for?

So Blaine played along.
Kurt moved over and asked Blaine to come sit next to him on the bed, so Blaine crawled up and wrapped his arm around Kurt so he could rest his head against Blaine’s chest.

Kurt’s sunny mood continued, and he only needed the oxygen mask twice throughout the day. Puck came by with his guitar and played a few songs.
They laughed and when Kurt told Puck about his dream Puck’s face had lit up the same way Kurt’s did it when he talked about it.

“That is so perfect. I can just picture it. When we come home from our road trip to New York, you should find a nice house, and then when you’ve been living together for a year or so you should find one of those surrogate mothers. You could be the biological father to a kid each, so they would look like you,” Puck eagerly let his mouth run over with.

“But hey, promise me to wait some time - you’ll need some time for the joy of married life first, if you know what I’m saying.” Puck winked at them, grinning broadly at his own cleverness.

Blaine couldn’t help blushing as Kurt laughed at Puck’s witty remark.
They spent the rest of the day with Kurt and Puck discussing the future of Kurt and Blaine’s marriage, planning out every single detail, while Blaine listened and nodded, as he let his fingertips running up and down Kurt’s arms and neck caressing his frame.

It was so strange, Blaine almost forgot that they were in the hospital; it felt like old times back in Kurt or Blaine’s room when they didn’t have a care in the world.

“I gotta go, guys. I promised my mom to come home early tonight. I have to watch my sisters while she’s working late. But I’ll be here early tomorrow. I promise. Keep looking good, Hummel. You know you‘re my favorite boy.” Puck bent down to hug Blaine and kissed Kurt on the forehead.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Noah. Thanks for bringing your guitar today. It was lovely.” Kurt smiled warmly, letting his bony hand brush over Puck’s cheek, making him bite his lower lip before he headed for the door.

“Bye guys. Love ya,” Puck said, and then he left the room.

“Maybe you should get some sleep now, babe. It’s getting late, and you look exhausted,” Blaine said truthfully, tugging a lock of hair behind Kurt’s ear.
Kurt put his arm around Blaine’s waist squeezing him as hard as he could, still greatly weak though.

“I know. I really am tired. But this is so nice, I could lie like this forever.” Kurt dug his nose into Blaine’s chest, letting his teeth playfully grab a nipple, making Blaine shiver, before Kurt kissed said nipple softly.

“We’ll do it again tomorrow. As soon as you wake up I will crawl up here and cuddle you for the entire day, how does that sound?” Blaine suggested, still trying to shake off the chill from Kurt’s teeth around his nipple.

“I’d love that,” Kurt responded before he kissed Blaine’s jaw and sat up.

“Puck is right, you know. As soon as I get out of here, and the doctors says it’s okay we’ll go on that trip, and when we are in New York we can look for a house. It doesn’t have to be anything big. Just enough for you and me, and of course a room for Puck and one for Finn. And then when we get kids, we’ll turn one of their rooms into a nursery. It’s gonna be perfect.”

Kurt’s voice was eager, and it seemed like the fire that Blaine had fallen in love with in Kurt had been ignited once again. He even had a little rosy color to his cheeks and his lips looked so full.

Blaine couldn’t control himself, and he didn’t want to. He let both his hands up to cup Kurt’s face and forced himself to hold Kurt’s gaze fixated, before he leaned in to let his lips meet Kurt’s. Soft and patiently.

He didn’t let his tongue slide into Kurt’s mouth, he didn’t let his lips work against Kurt’s. He simply held them together, felt the warmth of Kurt’s mouth against his own, the taste of his breath turning Blaine’s brain dizzy as always when they kissed.

When they parted Blaine didn’t let his hands fall from Kurt’s face. He returned to the position with their noses so close that they almost touched.

“We’re going to have that some day. And it’s gonna be wonderful, and everything will work out great. I want you to be the father of my children.” Blaine didn’t blink, and neither did Kurt.

“I love you, Blaine. Don’t you ever forget that,” Kurt said in a steady voice that was completely his own taking Blaine completely off guard.

“I love you too. Always, and only you,” Blaine responded, finally allowing himself to blink, before he leaned in to kiss Kurt’s nose, and crawled out of the bed.

“You should sleep. Let me sing to you.” Blaine started arranging the pillows for Kurt to lie down without coughing all the time.
When Kurt placed his head on the pillow that had been Blaine’s at home, Blaine brushed a hand over his hair.

“I really don’t understand why you keep wearing that old Dalton shirt,” chuckled Blaine, sitting down in the chair, reaching for Kurt’s hand.
“It smells like you, and it feels like you. It makes me sleep better. I am positive that it chases away bad dreams,” Kurt stated, as a matter-of-factly, like it was the most logic thing in the world.

Blaine decided not to object with his usual argument that he hadn’t worn it for ages, and instead he let his fingers intertwine with Kurt’s.

“Will you promise not to let go off my hand, no matter what happens?” Kurt asked, suddenly sounding very small, almost afraid.
“I’ll never let you go. I promise. Not in a million years - or even after that.” Blaine assured him with a smile, before he started singing slowly.

“You make me, feel like I’m living a - Teenage Dream…”