Blaine ran to Mike’s side, kneeling and trying to lift him carefully.

“No,” Mike said, panting unsteadily. “I’m fine, I’ll be fine. Just--”

And then Kurt was there, helping lift Mike to sit in a nearby chair, easing the weight tugging on Blaine's injured arm. Mike collapsed heavily, still clutching his side, a grimace twisting his face. Blaine and Kurt knelt next to him.

“I’ll send in Tina to tend to you,” Blaine said. “I need--”

“You need to go fight,” Mike panted. “Don’t let the bastard win.”

Blaine looked at his servant and dearest friend. Injured, bleeding, possibly dying, all because Sebastian felt it was his right to take the throne. And that was no one’s fault but Blaine’s--he had left Sebastian unbound, he hadn't hit him hard enough, he was the reason Sebastian was here in the first place. He was the reason Sebastian had come today. No matter how Blaine saw it, if he had just done his duty, none of this would have happened.

“Blaine.”

Blaine paused in his internal self-flagellation and looked up. Mike smiled down at him and lifted his hand, palm facing away from Blaine.

“You are the finest king I could have hoped to serve. So please...go make sure that when I recover, it will still be you I am serving.”

Blaine fought back tears that prickled behind his eyes and grasped the hand, clutching it tightly.

“I will,” he promised. He pulled back, stood, and turned to Kurt. “Kurt, I--”

“Go,” he said, looking up at Blaine with a resigned nod. “I’ll stay with him until Tina comes, and then I’ll see to the servants, make sure they stay safe.”

Blaine took a deep breath, hating what he had to say, the pain he had to cause Kurt--

“And if I--you’ll--”

Kurt stood and placed a hand on his chest, just above his heart.

“I’ll carry out your wishes if...if you don’t come back,” he choked out, blinking rapidly, staring down at his hand and breathing in deeply through parted lips.

But then he looked up, the full force of his gaze staggering the breath right out of Blaine.

“But you come back,” he demanded, his voice firm despite the hitch in the final word. “You come back to me, Blaine.”

Blaine pulled Kurt in and kissed him once--hard, fierce, putting everything he had into it. And then he pulled away and nodded.

“I will.”

He turned and, resisting the urge to look back, slipped through into the dining room. Cheers rose from the servants assembled there, and he smiled and nodded at all of them, raising his hand for silence.

“It’s not over yet,” he said. “All who are capable and armed, I’m asking you to join me. The rest, stay here, stay safe, and do whatever Kurt says--he’s in charge.”

“Where are Mike and Santana?” Tina asked, rushing forward.

Blaine sighed and placed a kind hand on her shoulder.

“Mike is back in my chambers, injured--but alive,” he said encouragingly, as Tina clapped her hands over her mouth and whimpered. “Go to him.” He turned to the rest of the room. “We don’t know where Santana is. If anyone comes across her or finds out where she is, let a soldier or a guard know as soon as you can and we’ll make sure she’s brought to safety.”

He looked to the corner of the room where Sam had gathered everyone armed; about six people all told, ready to fight. He walked up and clasped Sam’s hand.

“Are we ready?” he asked.

Sam nodded, handing Blaine an extra sword.

“Ready,” he said. “Sebastian ran through here himself just a moment ago, but nobody checked in on us. They don’t even know we’re armed, as far as I know.”

“Do we know what’s going on out there?” Blaine asked.

“Nope,” Sam replied, a half-smile on his face. “We could find out, though. Seven of us against the two guards on the court door. I like those odds.”

Blaine grinned back.

“Me too.”

“Blaine said you’re in charge,” she said. “Everyone’s waiting for you in the dining room. I’ll take care of Mike.”

Kurt nodded and slipped into the dining room, shutting the door behind him just in case. The servants were either sitting or milling about aimlessly, the air thick with tension. In the corner where his stool normally sat, two guards lay slumped against the wall, either unconscious or dead. Kurt grimaced.

“Kurt!”

Mercedes slipped through a small grouping of workers that Kurt wasn’t familiar with and hugged him tightly.

“Boy, I thought you were gone for good,” she said, her eyes a little watery.

“I’m okay, I’m back,” Kurt assured. He pulled back from her and looked around again. “How’s everyone doing?”

“Okay,” Mercedes said, looking around with him. “As far as I know we’re all unhurt, just...a little nervous. I mean...who knows what’s going to happen.”

Kurt nodded, grim.

“Well, there’s not much we can do,” he said. “We have to make sure nobody thinks anything is different in here, give Blaine a chance to get to Nick without more guards sneaking up behind him. How many guards are on this room besides those?” He pointed to the corner where the guards lay.

“Nobody in there move!”

The sharp cry came from outside the room. There was a heavy thud, hurried footsteps, and then a faint, faraway sound of metal on metal and voices crying out.

“Two, now,” Mercedes said, answering Kurt’s question, apparently unfazed by the sounds of battle. “Two were in the hall and two are still up on the balcony. Those two in the corner were watching from the court.”

“Okay.” Kurt nodded his head and bit his lip. “Then all we can do is hold on, and see if any opportunities arise.”

Blaine nodded shortly. “And where are the rest of Sebastian’s men?”

They were down to six, but the court was strewn with their enemies. They pressed against the wall below the western staircase, panting heavily and wiping sweat and blood from heated brows. The scout he’d sent out to gather information was an older man, a much-hardened veteran of battle, but he was quick and quiet, and he’d only been gone for about five minutes before he’d returned with his reports.

“He’s got most of his men out back,” the scout replied. “I think they’re mustering up, getting ready to attack. From the small groups he has portioned off I’d guess he’s gonna send some around, try to catch Lord Nicholas from the back by sneaking through the gardens. Smaller groups are quieter. The ones not out back are probably upstairs.”

Blaine debated sending his men up the staircase. There was no telling who was up there, though--who could come at them from above if they tried. He brushed the idea away; it was better to advance below, attack Sebastian’s men defending at the front of the castle and get them to turn around, giving Nick an advantage. Then they could all meet up and face Sebastian before he could slip around.

“Blaine, what are you thinking?” Sam asked from his right. Blaine turned his head and studied the men.

“What I’d like to do is head to the front of the castle, attack Sebastian’s defenders from behind,” he said. “I think we should be able to put a dent in them.”

“Ready men!” Sam shouted, raising his sword in a quick salute. “Let’s go give them a reason to cover their asses!”

“Poor choice of words,” someone called out. Blaine whipped his head around and was met with the sight of Sebastian sauntering through the court, heading right toward them. “Considering the pastimes of your Prince.”

Without a single hesitation Blaine’s men raised their swords, ready to attack at a word. Blaine adjusted his grip on his sword, glad of his training with both hands as his left shoulder burned fiercely.

“Sebastian,” Blaine sneered. “I thought you’d be attack Nick by now.”

“Change of plans,” Sebastian replied easily, as though he weren’t alone in front of six armed men hoping to kill him.

But then he wasn’t alone. Several men--more than two dozen, with more hanging back in the halls--ran into the court and flanked their commander.

“You see,” he continued, “I thought about slipping around, coming up on Nick from behind. But then I thought it would be more fun to slaughter you before you ran away to hide behind your cronies.”

“I have no reason to hide, Sebastian,” Blaine said bravely. Or maybe stupidly--he had six men against at least four times as many. But he wouldn’t sit back and let Sebastian mock him.

“I think my men would say differently,” Sebastian countered. “Right, boys?”

Sebastian’s men sent up a raucous cry, but Sebastian’s voice still rose above it all, clear and strong.

“Keep Blaine alive!” he cried. “The rest, kill ‘em!”

The men rushed, battle cries ringing off the marble. Blaine and his men didn’t wait--they returned the cry and charged to meet their attackers.

Blaine lost himself in battle. Before he could register it, he’d killed two men, and he was fending off another, sword flying through the air quickly, body twisting to dodge the blow as his rapier slipped beneath to slice into the attacker’s legs. The man cried out and stumbled, and Sam ran him through before yanking away his sword.

“We’ll never win!” he cried. “There’s too many!”

“Can we retreat?” Blaine shouted back. Sam’s instant yell of “no” sank his heart, but he continued fighting like a madman, ready to die before Sebastian captured him again.

“Nick!”

Blaine stabbed the nearest man right through his eye before he realized what Sam had said. He turned his head briefly, met with the sight of Nick charging in through the front doors, leading his men in and right at Sebastian’s left flank. Blaine grinned ferociously, fighting into a suddenly nervous enemy with renewed vigor.

Sebastian’s men retreated at a quick cry from Sebastian, meeting with the fresh men still hanging back, leaving an opening for Nick’s men to swarm ahead of Blaine’s, continuing the battle for them.

Blaine looked at his men. Two had fallen, leaving only him, Sam, and two others, and all four of them looked close to collapse.

“How many did we take down?” he asked curiously, looking at the three to see if they knew.

“Four.”

“Six.”

“I took out seven,” Sam said, and Blaine laughed, impressed. “How about you?”

“I would’ve had seven, but you stole that kill from me,” Blaine teased, still laughing. Sam nudged his shoulder.

“We’ll call it even,” he conceded.

Nick appeared from his group of men, smiling, Jeff right by his side, both sweaty but ready and eager. Blaine embraced both of them quickly and gratefully.

“I thought he had us,” Blaine admitted, clapping Nick on the back. “How are your men?”

“We’ve got about double Sebastian’s men, all told,” he said. “But I have more coming up as soon as they muster--this is just the advance guard. Not to mention the men I left on the gate should Sebastian decide to try to fall back to Lima. He won’t be leaving here anytime soon.”

“Thank you,” Blaine said. “I take it you got Kurt’s message, then.”

“Last night,” Nick corroborated. “And I got a few more on the way here. I cannot wait to meet him.”

“Well, if we can take or kill Sebastian, you can,” Blaine promised. “He’s with the servants now, keeping them away from the battle.”

“Go to him,” Nick said. “We’ve got this here, and the four of you need rest. You’re no good to me like this.”

Blaine smiled, taking it as lightly as Nick meant it.

“All right,” he agreed, looking to the side and spotting the door to the dining room, every inch of him drawn to the man on the other side. “But once I see him and catch my breath, I’ll meet you at the head of the charge.”

“Deal,” Nick said, clasping Blaine’s hand.

Blaine turned to the door, ready to run to the other side and kiss Kurt no matter who was watching. His eyes scanned the group of men before him, before landing on just one.

His eyes met Sebastian’s from across the court for a long, frozen moment. And then Sebastian took several steps backward before turning and running.

“Nick!” Blaine cried, whirling around, but Nick was already back among his men. He peered around quickly--no one had seen Sebastian run.

He made a split second decision. Raising his sword, he ran to the dais, slipped along the wall, and ran straight through several of Sebastian’s men, who looked up at him in extreme confusion, unable to react further as Blaine barrelled through them.

He flew into the eastern hall by the servant’s quarters. It was empty, and he took the opportunity to sprint to the kitchen, slipping by Sebastian’s men entering from the rear of the castle. He bolted through and headed to the servant’s entrance. Here he paused, catching his breath--thankfully, he hadn’t been followed.

He carefully slid through the door and out of the castle, quickly taking in the fact that the gardens were completely empty, save for one figure jogging to a stop by the roses, turning and bending over and peering back at the castle.

Blaine grit his teeth and headed toward his cousin.

All around, through the shut doors and walls surrounding them, the sounds of fighting drifted in. Kurt, never a religious man, sent up a prayer to every god he could think of, promising eternal fealty and unending sacrifices to the one who kept his Blaine safe.

Still, in his mind’s eye, all he could see was Sebastian running Blaine through, smirking cruelly as he murdered Kurt’s entire world.

“Oy!”

Kurt’s head snapped up and panic flooded him with the urge to run as a guard walked down the stairs from the balcony. The entire room fell silent, all heads turning to the quick cry.

The guard eyed the room slowly, his eyes narrowing as he looked over Kurt. Kurt hoped desperately that he was just dumb and trying to figure out if Kurt was a girl or not like all the idiots from his hometown...

“There are less people in here than before,” he said. No, he was far too intelligent, and Kurt could see it in his eyes as he turned back to Kurt and looked him up and down. “And you seem to fit the description of someone important to my Lord.”

The guard stalked forward, leveling his spear at Kurt as he advanced. Kurt opened his mouth to make up a lie about who he was, but the guard’s snarl cut him off.

“No! No excuses. Now, you’re going to come with me, quietly, and--”

Kurt never found what what else he would be doing, because with a heavy clanging noise, the guard dropped to the ground.

“Was that okay?” Brittany asked. She was still holding the heavy candelabra aloft.

Kurt spluttered for a moment before recovering himself.

“Yes, that was incredible, Brittany!” He blinked down at the guard, half-sorry that he was still breathing. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“Well, Santana taught me how to keep Puck out of my room, so I thought it might work here too,” she explained simply. “And Lord Tubbington taught me the art of being a clementine.”

Kurt nodded in complete understanding and threw her a grin.

“Well, thank you, Brittany,” he said. “And thank you Lord Tubbington.”

“I’ll tell him,” she replied happily, finally setting the candelabra down. Kurt turned back to the unconscious guard, hands fluttering a little as he considered what to do.

“Well...does anyone have anything to tie him up with? And we’re going to need a gag, too.”

“I have one in my room,” Brittany volunteered. Kurt tilted his head and blinked rapidly, opting not to question it.

“I don’t think we can leave right now,” he said instead.

“Here,” Mercedes said, walking up. She leant down and tore a strip off the bottom of her skirt, handing it to Kurt with a nod and a smile. “You owe me a new skirt.”

“As soon as this is over, I will make you a hundred skirts,” Kurt vowed, taking the strip of cloth and kneeling down, tying the man’s hands tightly behind his back as Mercedes tore her skirt again, giving Kurt what he needed to gag the man tightly.

“There,” he said, standing again. He looked over to the staircase, considering. There was only one more guard left on their room, and if he had half a brain he’d be suspicious when his partner didn’t come back. Kurt took a deep breath and then turned back to Brittany.

“Do you think you could swing that thing again?”

His voice rang loud and clear as he slowed, about ten yards away from where Sebastian stood, apparently catching his breath. His head whipped around, and he spotted Blaine with a quick narrowing of his eyes. He looked back up the path and then back at Blaine--considering if he should run again, most likely.

He drew his sword and stood his ground.

“Well, well,” he said, as Blaine approached, surreptitiously regaining his own breath as he walked up. “So you’ve managed to best everything that I’ve thrown at you. Is this the part of the story where you face me down, fight me one on one like a man? Beat me down and save the day?”

Blaine glared at him, his jaw tight as he said, “That’s the idea.”

“So what now?” Sebastian asked, smirking. “How does this go in the fairytales, cousin? Do I fall to my knees and grovel for forgiveness, seeing the error of my ways? Do I beg for mercy?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Blaine answered. “You don’t deserve mercy.”

“Well, then, I suppose I should fight you after all,” Sebastian replied, whip-quick. “But I’ll warn you--I’ve never been a fan of fairytales.”

His sword whistled as it swung.

“Oh!” he said. “I--”

“What are you doing up here?” the guard asked. Kurt eyed the spear carefully, standing straight and looking down his nose at it.

“I was trying to escape,” he said, sneering just a bit. “But it seems you’ve caught me.”

When Kurt made the plan with Brittany to distract the guard while she snuck up from behind, he had expected to keep the guard’s attention on him by taunting him, throwing some insults and making the guard want to talk as opposed to just killing him on the spot for trying to leave.

He didn’t expect the guard to look him up and down like a piece of well-cooked meat.

Three months ago, Kurt wouldn’t have known what to do with that look. But that was before Sebastian, before Blaine, in a time when being attractive was a foreign concept.

He made a split second decision.

“Please, just...what do I have to do for you to let me go?”

He bit his lip and bat his eyes slowly, peeking up at him through his eyelashes, wilting just a little into a more feminine pose. The guard laughed briefly.

“I don’t think I will let you go,” he said, but he raised his spear. Kurt blinked at him innocently and the guard smiled, not taking his eyes off Kurt’s face. “I think I’ll keep you right here--”

He fell to the ground heavily when Brittany bashed him over the head. Kurt instantly stood back up straight and looked down at him.

“Well, that was easier than I thought,” he commented quietly. “Thank you, Brit.”

“Do you need me to hit anybody else?” she asked, a little too eagerly. Kurt just shook his head.

“No, I think we’re good,” he said with a little nervous laugh. “You should go back inside, I’ll throw him over the side or something.”

Kurt didn’t watch Brittany leave. He bent down and grabbed the guard by his ankles, dragging him over to the edge of the balcony, fully intending to tip him over the rail and letting the ground have him.

When he turned to see what the guard would land in, he caught sight of Blaine’s roses. He dropped the guard’s feet and turned, leaning over the rail and watching as he recognized Blaine and Sebastian.

And then he gasped, and his world fell apart.

“You should forfeit,” Blaine suggested. “There’s a benefit for you if you start acting like the fairytales, Sebastian. You might get to live.”

“So you would grant me mercy after all?”

Blaine shook his head slowly.

“Just because you’re alive doesn’t mean I can’t make your remaining days miserable, cousin. Not after all you’ve done to Kurt and the rest of your subjects. Your choice, though, if you’d rather face that or death. I can deal you either.”

“I wouldn’t celebrate your victory yet, Your Majesty,” Sebastian sneered, smiling viciously, his mouth stained red with blood. He nodded toward the castle. “How would you fare as King without your lover by your side?”

Blaine’s blood ran cold as he turned around, expecting to see Kurt fallen. But Kurt was there, standing on the balcony, leaning over the rail and staring out at him, his eyes wide and his hand covering his mouth. Beautiful, healthy. There was nothing to stop him from turning around and taking Sebastian down.

Instead he felt the cold slide of steel as it entered his back.

He turned and ran faster than he’d ever run in his life.

Breathing was a conscious effort. Strangely calm, he wondered what would happen if he just...stopped. Would it take long? Would he stay suspended in this floating blackness, the pain edging along what senses he had left? Or would it all fade? Would he sink into the ground and feed the crimson blooms? Did they get their color from blood? Maybe that’s why they were so dark. His mother’s blood fed them first, and then his father, and his brother. Now, his.

A tribute, to keep their beauty alive. Maybe if Kurt continued to tend them after he was gone, he’d be able to feel him through the leaves and branches. He’d live on through his roses, hanging on only for his beloved, until such a time as he would lay beneath the branches himself and join Blaine beneath their roots, and the roses would bloom forever.

He started to sink, his breath slowing.

“--stop!”

Kurt’s voice. He strove to obey, gasping for breath so he’d halt his descent. He had to stop for Kurt.

“--no, Sebas--”

But Kurt wasn’t talking to him. Who was he talking to?

Sebastian.

He was talking to Sebastian, who had just killed him. And he was going to take Kurt away from him.

Kurt would never be allowed to tend the roses if Sebastian became king. He’d probably order the roses burned, and then Blaine would have no way to cling to the earth, no way to see Kurt again.

He coughed and opened his eyes.

“Stop!”

Sebastian turned around and grinned.

“Too late,” he crooned.

“No, Sebastian,” Kurt growled. “I’ve got plenty of time.”

“Oh?” Sebastian protested. He didn’t bother drawing his sword. “Looks to me like Blaine is already gone.”

Kurt tossed his dagger up just enough to grab the blade deftly between his fingers. He stopped several feet from Sebastian and turned his body, drawing back his arm.

“Who said anything about Blaine.”

He let the dagger fly, spinning through the distance between them quickly. It struck home in Sebastian’s right side, just below the end of his clavicle. He cried out and stumbled back, his free hand grasping at the hilt as he tumbled off his feet, landing on his side a few feet away, his breath coming ragged and quick. Kurt ignored him and knelt down beside Blaine.

“Blaine?” he whispered, smoothing Blaine’s hair back with one hand while he smoothed the other down his back, fingers stopping just shy of the bleeding stab wound. There was an alarming amount of blood, and Kurt pulled off his shirt and held it to the wound. Blaine hissed at the contact.

“Blaine?” he repeated.

“--hurts,” Blaine croaked, his face clenching up. Kurt smoothed his hair back again, smearing a little bit of blood on his forehead, but his eyes opened and Kurt nearly sobbed in relief.

He wanted to promise everything would be okay, that he could get help, but Sebastian was already moving around behind him and he had no time to get it himself. Only when he looked up and saw the balcony filled with the castle’s servants, watching them, did he begin to hope. He raised an arm and waved, turning back to Blaine when he saw the distinct form of Mercedes turning around and taking charge.

“I know it hurts,” Kurt said softly, looking back down at Blaine, “but it’ll be okay soon. I promise.”

Blaine huffed out a breath, sending a little cloud of dust up from the ground, instantly coughing weakly and groaning in pain. Kurt soothed him and very carefully rolled him onto his back, keeping the shirt pressed tightly against the wound to keep out the dust and stem the bleeding.

“Just lay here,” Kurt said. “Can you stay with me? Stay awake?”

Blaine nodded, apparently fully back with him, his eyes startlingly clear as he looked up at Kurt.

“You can...you can kill him,” he said, rolling his eyes over to where Sebastian was up on his knees. “Take my sword.”

“You fucking whore.”

Kurt turned his head and saw Sebastian gritting his teeth and drawing out the dagger and tossing it aside. It had hit hard, but when he drew it out the blood wasn’t nearly the amount Kurt hoped would come from the wound. His stronger side was seriously compromised, at least.

Kurt turned to Blaine and kissed his temple quickly, whispering, “I’ll be back,” before grabbing his rapier from where it had fallen.

He turned and faced Sebastian, who was rising to his feet and drawing his sword with his left hand, showing unfortunate dexterity.

“You’re going to pay for that,” Sebastian vowed, hefting his sword and facing Kurt down. Kurt lifted Blaine’s rapier, showing more confidence than he felt with the weapon as he took stance.

Sebastian swung, and Kurt barely fended him off. Even injured and fighting with his weaker side, Sebastian was fast. Kurt lunged in, his thrust parried quickly and returned faster than he was comfortable with. He twisted away and backed off to the side, hoping to get Sebastian away from Blaine at the very least.

“You’re going to lose,” Sebastian said firmly. He swung again, and Kurt dodged, swiping wildly at Sebastian’s side and missing by inches. Sebastian turned and slashed Kurt’s thigh, blood readily flowing as Kurt shuffled back, cringing. “I’m going to cut you down in front of your lover, and then you get to watch him die from where you lay helpless.”

“And then what?” Kurt spat, circling again. His back ended up to the roses, and he was trapped. “You’re going to chain me to your bed? It’ll only be a matter of time before I figure out a way to kill you. Even if I have to smother you with your own bedclothes and be executed for it, I’ll find a way, Sebastian.”

“Then I’ll just have to kill you, too,” Sebastian replied easily. “Not that I can’t have a little fun first.”

He lunged, and caught Kurt’s side, opening a deep cut on the side of his waist. Kurt shouted out his pain and fell to his knees, his legs already weak, the blood flowing freely from the cut down his shirtless torso and from his thigh.

“That’s exactly how I want you,” he heard Sebastian say. But his eyes were locked on the ground.

The sun shone off his silver knife, the blood on it dark and thick. He grabbed it and looked back up, standing unsteadily.

“You’re going to have to kill me now,” Kurt said. “If you leave me the least bit alive, I’ll fight. Even if I have to bite off your cock.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow and tilted his head.

“Can’t bite me if I’m behind you,” Sebastian said. And then he lunged.

Kurt trusted that Sebastian was a phenomenal swordsman. He knew Sebastian wanted him alive, and he knew Sebastian could injure him enough to incapacitate him without injuring him fatally. He put all his faith into it.

Sebastian’s sword slipped into his stomach, very low on his right side, just next to his hip. He felt it slide in deep, and he instantly felt cold and nauseous. But he pushed forward, noting with a twisted pleasure how Sebastian’s eyes widened as Kurt stepped into his personal space. The sword drew back, and Kurt raised his dagger.

He could have said anything to Sebastian in that moment. He could have told him he wasn’t fit to be king, or told him he couldn’t be behind him if he was dead.

Instead, he slashed the tip of the dagger across his throat and watched silently as the blood poured out, a faint gurgling sound coming from his mouth before it too filled with red. Sebastian’s eyes widened, as though he were mildly shocked.

And then he fell.

Kurt dropped his weapons and turned his back.

He only made it a few feet before he collapsed himself.

“Blaine.”

He was badly injured, blood covering a good deal of his lower body. Blaine’s heart fell.

“Kurt.”

He tried to roll over, but his legs felt disconnected from his body. Instead, he reached out his hand, stretching his fingers toward Kurt.

Kurt returned the gesture, linking their fingers together across the distance.

“Blaine, I--”

He shuddered, and fell silent, his eyes drifting shut. His fingers fell limp.

Shouts, screams, the clanging of metal and the beat of footsteps. Blaine’s eyes filled with tears, and he fought against the blackness that threatened to overwhelm him.

“Kurt.”

The footsteps drew closer, and he heard gasps and cries and orders being thrown around. None of it mattered. He held Kurt’s hand tighter, holding onto him in the only way he could.

“Kurt!”