�He'll look in the tarnished mirror that hangs beside his bed and see that yes, he has wrinkles now. �Worry lines creasing his forehead, laugh lines tracing their way along his lips, and he loves them. They're proof that he's really lived; they're proof that Blaine spent sleepless nights crying into pillows about lost love and nursing himself back into a whole person. They're proof that he's laughed at a thousand jokes, some of them awful.�

They're memories. Repeated so many times that they became permanently etched into his skin. Tangible proof that he can carry around as a reminder of friends, of enemies, of family, and of Kurt.�

Kurt.�

Who was the reason why somedays Blaine Anderson felt so incredibly young.�

Kurt aged beautifully. He had just a few thin lines around his mouth-something Kurt was proud of-and still seemed seventeen to Blaine sometimes.�

Like when he laughed, and those blue eyes would sparkle and shimmer and shine with some undefinable level of pure joy that made Blaine go weak in the knees with love.�

Or when he would dance around the kitchen singing a song from when they were young and dinner would be forgotten, because who could care about something as trivial as food when Blaine had this beautiful, wise, and utterly perfect man to slow dance across the house with to old love songs?�

Right now, though, Blaine Anderson felt helpless.�

Because Kurt, his soulmate, his other half, the most perfect, important, person in his life, was sick.�
�
He was in the hospital. That cold, stark white hospital all hooked up to machines with nurses constantly swarming him asking if there was anything he wanted. And even in the hospital because of a brain tumor, Kurt was bright and happy. He laughed �at all nurses' jokes, and was making the most of the time he had left.�

But one day, Blaine had been sitting right next to his bed, holding his hand as he woke up. Kurt's eyes still had that gleam as he blinked sleepily at Blaine.�

"Hey, sleepyhead. Rise and shine. "

Blaine said, smiling, as he rubbed his thumb along the back of Kurt's palm. Kurt smiled at him softly.�

"Hello. "

Blaine continued to smile back, even though deep down he could feel something was wrong.�

"Hello to you too. "

Those blue eyes didn't have the same emotion they usually did when they talked. He had stared into those eyes many nights, melting inside at the love in them, and that wasn't there anymore. They were still alert and intelligent, but they were empty. That was when Blaine knew.�

Kurt didn't recognize him.�

Something inside Blaine shattered into a thousand little pieces. It hurt more than he thought anything could hurt. It was a physical pain searing through him, choking him until he was on the verge of tears, because fifty years of KurtAndBlaine had been erased.�

And Kurt was looking at him with such confusion in his eyes, because to him some old man was holding his hand and he didn't know who he was.�

"I'm sorry. I must have the wrong room. You're the spitting image of my husband, and my eyes aren't the best. I'm not as young as I used to be. "

Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand one last time.�

"None of us are. "

Blaine looked at Kurt, tears brimming up.�

"I guess you're right. "

And then Kurt had smiled and gone back to sleep. Blaine had stayed there for just a second, looking at him lying there so peacefully, before going to find a nurse. She had nodded sadly, knowing all along that it had been a possibility.�

And then Blaine had gone home. Home to the house that was so full of memories. He had wandered the halls like a ghost, noticing that there was the room they had used as a nursery for their children, and there was the old couch that they always fell asleep on watching Disney movies. In the backyard, there was the oak tree Blaine had proposed under with their initials carved into it at the top. There was the hammock strung up across the deck that they cuddled on during long summer nights, watching the sunset and talking about anything and everything.�

And it was when Blaine sat down on the hammock, wincing because he was stiff from sitting in a hospital chair all day, and saw that the sun was going down and setting the sky on fire, that Blaine finally broke down and cried.�