It started with a phone call.

“Hello; this is Kurt and Blaine and Alex and Sophie’s house. Who are you?”

“Hello. My name’s Artie. I’m a friend of your dads. Is this Alex?”

“Yep. I remember you. From the hospital.”

“Really? Well, you must’ve gotten a lot bigger since last time I saw you. Is your dad there?”

“Which one?”

“Kurt.”

“He’s here. He was laughing at me, but now he’s gone quiet. Do you want to talk to him?”

“Yes, please. You’ve been really helpful, Alex. You’re good at this phone thing.”

“Thanks. So are you. Here you go.”

Kurt stared blankly at the phone for a second. Alex blinked at him through his thick glasses.

“Daddy? It’s your friend Artie. He wants to talk to you.”

Kurt took a deep breath and smiled at his son, taking the phone from him and ruffling his hair.

“Thanks, sweetheart. You know what? This could take a while. Why don’t you go and play in your room for a minute?”

Alex frowned. He hadn’t seen his father look like that for a long time, and he rarely made him play on his own. He was supposed to come with him and help him think of stories to act out with his toys. He knew how to do the voices. Kurt saw his worried expression and smiled a little more. He knelt in front of him and cupped his cheek, running a thumb over his forehead to smooth out the lines. He frowned far too much for a seven-year-old.

“I’ll come up soon, I swear.”

Alex nodded solemnly, glancing back as he left the room. Kurt hesitantly put the phone to his ear.

“Hello.”

“Another one? Seriously?”

“Artie, I told you, I feel fine.”

“It’s routine, Kurt. Everyone has to come back for checks; it doesn’t mean we’ll find anything. Please, I’ve got time this afternoon. It’ll take half an hour. A few tests and you’re free to go.”

“I’m busy.”

“Kurt.”

“It’s snowing; how can I-”

“Kurt.”

“Artie.”

“Do it for me.”

“I don’t like you.”

Artie didn’t laugh.

“Do it for them.”

~

The blonde woman in a white uniform tilted her head to glance at the little boy hiding behind Kurt’s legs.

“Hey, there, Alex. Do you remember me?”

He stared at her, his mouth falling open. She stepped out from behind her desk. Kurt twisted around to stroke Alex’s hair and nudge him forward. He leaned down to whisper to him.

“Sweetie, this is Brittany. You remember her?”

He nodded, blushing.

“I haven’t seen you since your birthday; how’ve you been?” Alex said nothing and held onto Kurt’s leg. Brittany turned towards Sophie, who was dozing against Kurt’s shoulder. She stroked her cheek with the back of her index finger and grinned at Kurt. “She’s adorable.” He gave Sophie a kiss on the nose and passed her over to Brittany, who held her with a practised ease, and returned her attention to Alex. “You’re pretty quiet. You don’t like hospitals, do you?”

Alex shook his head.

“You want a lollipop?”

He nodded. Kurt smiled at Brittany and mouthed ‘thank you’.

“Baby, there’s a bunch of colouring books out in that waiting room. I bet Brittany could give you some crayons if you asked nicely.”

Brittany knelt down to make eye contact with Alex, handing him a bright pink lollipop which he gripped firmly without unwrapping it. He stared at her, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, as if she were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Do you like drawing?”

He nodded.

“Well, how about we sit together at that table and make a picture for Daddy while he goes in there?”

He nodded again, taking her hand when she offered it to him. She stood up and smiled at Kurt.

“I can’t believe how big he’s getting.”

“I know; it’s scary. I think he likes you.”

Brittany smiled.

“Lucky me! He’s ready for you. I’ll look after them, I promise.”

Kurt nodded the same scared nod as his son and smiled at her.

“Just a second, honey,” he said to Alex, patting him on the shoulder before he pulled Brittany towards the low table covered in books and toys.

“Kay, Daddy. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He swallowed and knocked on the office door.

~

Kurt stared at the picture stuck to the fridge with a magnet. To anyone else it would be a mass of rectangles and scribbles, but to him it was his family: Dad, Daddy, Me, Sophie, Pepper and Edward. Four people, a dog and a cat lined up in front of a house with a bright yellow door. It was difficult to distinguish their heads from their torsos but they were all smiling. Even the sun in the corner, the same colour as the door, had a cheesy grin. He glanced again at the text on his phone. ‘I’ve got your test results. You need to come in.’ It wasn’t very professional, but it didn’t matter. They didn’t drag you in for good news. He’d learnt from experience.

“Kurt, you ready to go?”

“Hmm?”

Blaine whispered loudly to their daughter as he swayed from side to side with her in his arms.

“I think Daddy’s forgotten we’re having lunch with grandma and grandpa today. Silly Daddy!” He grinned at Kurt and tickled Sophie until she squealed with laughter. He walked towards Kurt and put his hand on the small of his back. “I know that’s not all you’re wearing; it’s freezing outside.”

“I can’t come.”

Blaine looked at the picture Kurt was gazing at then back into his eyes.

“Why? Is something wrong?”

He paused before he answered. He couldn’t just say headache like anyone else; that would send Blaine into immediate red alert. But if he were anyone else, he wouldn’t be lying to Blaine at all. He’d be going to lunch with his in-laws. He could already feel it starting again - the cycle of being sick. Everything changing.

“Santana called. She and Britt had a fight.” It wasn’t true. In fact, Brittany’s insemination had finally worked and Kurt was the only one who knew she was pregnant. Their life was racing into a whole new chapter, and his… He had no idea. “I said I’d take her out; I’m so sorry about lunch – another time?”

He was desperate to keep everything light. He didn’t know anything yet. He might be fine. There was no point in freaking him out if it was nothing. Blaine had narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Oh… okay. Well, tell her I said hi; don’t let her drink too much-”

“Oh, I’ll make sure of it. We’ll probably take Pepper for a walk, clear her head. It’ll be fine. She just needs a breather.”

“Right. Fine.” Kurt tried to ignore the hurt look on his husband’s face. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Of course. Give your parents my love.”

“Uh-huh.”

Blaine smiled weakly at him before grabbing his scarf from the banister and wrapping it around his neck. Sophie’s face was barely visible under a thousand layers but she was beaming anyway.

“I’m really sorry, Blaine, she just sounded so upset-”

Blaine tried and failed to smile more brightly.

“Hey, no, it’s fine. You wouldn’t be you if you turned her down. It’s why I love you.”

It was true. Kurt was kind and compassionate, and Blaine adored him for it. But he was also lying. And it made Blaine’s insides go cold.

“I love you too.”

Kurt kissed him on the cheek, but couldn’t bring himself to smile. He felt too guilty, too scared.

Within a minute, his family was bundled up and in the car and he was alone in the kitchen. He called a cab.

“Hi. I need to go to the hospital.”

~

He closed his eyes as a series of familiar but still confusing words were poured over him. Artie interrupted the oncologist, a woman Kurt didn’t know (or like, but that could have been circumstantial), to explain that it was back, it was in his lungs, and it was worse.

“Have you been coughing? Experienced shortness of breath?”

“It’s winter. It’s flu season. Everyone’s coughing. And if you had an excitable one-year-old who’d just learnt to walk you’d be out of breath too-”

“What about chest pains?” Artie pressed on reluctantly. He’d broken this news to a hundred people. This was the second time he’d had to say it to a friend. It had been the same friend then as it was now. “Kurt, have you been coughing up blood?”

Kurt looked at his hands clasped in his lap. He crossed his legs.

“Sir, why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you come to your other appointments? We could have done something-”

Artie stayed calm. Someone had to.

“Kurt, where’s Blaine? I can’t believe he’d let you come on your-” He noticed Kurt still looking at his hands. “Oh. You haven’t told him.”

“I didn’t want to worry him.”

“Worry him? He loves you-”

“Exactly. He loves me and I keep doing this.”

“Kurt-”

“-I keep putting him through all of this crap and he has to try and be strong, and- have you ever seen Blaine cry? It’s worse than any surgery, any treatment you could cook up. Seriously, just make the cancer watch him cry and it’ll leave by itself. I just- I-”

Artie put a hand on Kurt’s wrist.

“It’s okay, Kurt-”

“No, it’s not okay. I wanted to pretend. I wanted to be not sick for as long as possible. And now…” he swallowed and sucked in a breath despite the lump in his throat and the sting in his chest, “I want to go home. Can I come back some time tomorrow? I can’t talk about cells anymore. I need to go home.”

The woman opened her mouth to object, but Artie shook his head at her. He squeezed Kurt’s hand and Kurt clung onto him, turning his fingers white.

“I know. Tonight you should be with him. I’ll make time for you.”

“But tomorrow I’m-” the woman butted in again.

“Then we’ll find somebody else. Whatever it takes.”

Kurt smiled at him. It felt good to have someone on his side. He needed it when his own body was turning against him.

~

“Hello?” he called out into the house, which was empty save for Edward’s gentle purring, undoubtedly from the armchair nobody else dared to sit in. He’d claimed it before the kids were born. Kurt couldn’t help cracking a smile when he heard the sudden scrabbling of claws as Pepper crashed through the kitchen, sliding across the floor in a heap. He shut the door without thinking so he couldn’t get outside, but he stopped as soon as he got to Kurt’s feet anyway. He knelt down to ruffle his fur and gazed into the huge brown eyes gazing up at him as if he had the answers to all of life’s unanswerable questions.

He felt hot breath on his cheek as he held Pepper’s face close to his own and his fingers teased the dog’s dark, shaggy mane, the dark curls that reminded him of Blaine’s. That was the only reason he’d relented and brought him home in the first place. Pepper licked his chin and Kurt pulled him closer, losing his balance and falling back against the door. He kept rubbing Pepper’s back, each stroke a little faster and rougher as his breathing became laboured. He knew it wasn’t the disease this time. That just made it harder to recover.

The dog kept clambering onto him and he put up no resistance. He sucked in sharp breaths when he could, clutching desperately at Pepper’s fur, clinging to the warm body that continued to paw at his clothes and pant away, clueless, blissfully ignorant of the thoughts flying through Kurt’s mind – thoughts he’d hoped he’d never have to consider again. He let the dog’s heavy breathing drown them out, envying the stupid, relentlessly loving animal. Pepper didn’t think about his mortality. He thought about licking his master’s face when he got home. He thought about rising up against Edward’s reign (but always thought better of it). He thought about protecting the miniature humans that seemed to have been placed in his care. Kurt buried his face in the dark fur and let it soak up the tears he hadn’t even realised were rolling down his cheeks.

Even the slobbering, wriggling, clumsy, smelly lump anchoring him to the spot in the hallway was suddenly another thing he might have to leave behind, abandon, and he was the only thing he could hold onto; the one person he didn’t have to explain to or hide anything from.

“I’m sick again, Pepper. It’s back… It’s back…” he sobbed into the fur, the vibrations and moisture making the dog squirm. Pepper didn’t even understand what was happening and telling him broke Kurt’s heart.

He had no idea how he was going to tell Blaine.

~

It was dark when the three of them crashed through the door. Kurt was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of tea with the cat on his lap. Blaine was carrying Sophie and Alex was clinging to the hem of his coat to prop himself up as he stumbled alongside him. Blaine dropped his keys in the bowl on the table before letting his hand drift into Alex’s hair, stroking his head absent-mindedly.

“Please, Daddy, ten minutes… I’m not… tired,” he yawned. It was too late to be firm with him. He’d just carry him to bed in five minutes.

“Fine. Go on, I’ll be there in a sec.” Alex ambled into the living room, almost walking into the door before Blaine guided him to the couch by his shoulders. He smiled as the tiny boy closed his eyes before his head hit the sofa cushions. He curled into a ball, wrapping his arms around his legs and nuzzling into the arm of the couch. He stepped back, closing the door so Alex wouldn’t be disturbed.
“Blaine.”

Blaine stopped in his tracks. He clutched a little more tightly onto the sleeping girl on his hip. He knew. That was the voice. That was Kurt’s terrified voice. It was perfectly still, unwavering, almost eerie. There was normally that musical lilt to his speech, so tuneful and happy, but it had disappeared. Now he was trying to show as little emotion as possible in order to try and cover up the frenzy in his mind. Blaine had his own coping mechanism, and it sucked just as much.

“Sorry we’re so late; Dad had planned a surprise trip to the aquarium. Prepare yourself now, Alex is gonna be talking a lot about dolphins and starfish for a couple of weeks.”

Kurt kept staring into his cup.

“Blaine-”

“It was actually really fun; we should go again when Sophie’s older. Mom and Dad were adorable, holding hands and kissing every time they thought we weren’t looking. I think retiring is the best thing he’s ever done.”

“Blaine-”

Blaine had to pause before he kept going. His first thought was ‘Someday that’ll be us, all old and wrinkly and cute’, but the words refused to come out of his mouth. He knew it might not be true anymore.

“Have you walked the dog? Don’t worry, I’ll take him out now, we’ll just go around the block a couple times, stretch his legs, won’t be long.”

He handed the baby to Kurt who, between the fat cat on his knees and the girl thrust into his arms, was powerless to stop him as he clicked Pepper’s leash on him and walked out. Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, resting his cheek on top of Sophie’s head. He knew Blaine would come back, that he needed some time alone, but it still hurt being left behind.

He nudged the cat onto the floor (for once he didn’t put up any resistance; apparently he knew when to keep his claws away), and crept into the living room where Alex was fast asleep in a heap on the sofa. He sat next to him, holding Sophie on his lap and pulling Alex into his side. He stroked both heads of soft hair, one light brown and thick, one dark and curly. They both pretended not to know which kid was whose genetically; they knew it didn’t matter. They were theirs. He flicked the TV on and muted it so he wouldn’t wake them. A helicopter could have landed outside and they wouldn’t have flinched, but he wanted to sit in silence, listening to their breathing, snuffly and quiet and calm. He laid his head back into the cushions, closing his eyes and falling into a fitful doze.

He’d barely slipped out of consciousness when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out.

Outside. Didn’t want to wake them.

He laid Sophie down next to Alex. He automatically curled around his little sister, always trying to protect her. Kurt opened the door to a drenched Blaine, hunched over in his coat and looking up at him with red, tearful eyes and a wrinkled forehead. Pepper bounded in and started to shake himself dry, and Blaine dropped the leash, letting it drag along the floor.

He stepped up and hugged him before either of them could say anything. He wrapped his arms tightly around Kurt’s waist and buried his face in his neck while Kurt closed his eyes and breathed him in, the smell of New York rain penetrating him and making his hair stick to his scalp.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into Kurt’s ear, “I’m sorry,” the hot breath contrasting with his cold body, “I’m sorry,” making him shiver. He pulled Blaine closer, soaking his clothes and not caring.

“I know,” he gripped onto Blaine’s shoulders, trying to warm him up through his thick, wet coat. “I know, Blaine; it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. I’m here.”

They both wondered how long for. They both kept quiet.

“I shouldn’t have run out like that, I know I should have stayed-”

“I know.”

“But I’m staying now. I’m not going anywhere.”

Kurt pulled Blaine’s coat from around his shoulders and threw it over a chair.

“I know.”

Kurt’s hands were rubbing his biceps, trying to dry him off. Blaine pulled them down and linked their fingers together. He reluctantly pulled his head away from Kurt’s collarbone, pressing one more kiss to it, and looked him in the eyes. Neither of them could see clearly but they couldn’t bring themselves to blink the tears away. They’d rather see blurry versions of each other than go a millisecond without looking.

“We can fight it again.” His voice was shaky, but he was determined. “It sucks, but we can do it. We can do anything.”

Kurt swallowed.

He wasn’t sure if he could do it again. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

He kept looking at the man in front of him, the curls dripping in front of his eyes, the tremor in his lower lip as he tried to be stronger than he was. He was doing it for him, for their family, for everything they’d built together since high school. Kurt couldn’t lie to him, but he couldn’t break his heart.

He nodded, keeping his mouth shut.

He pulled Blaine into another hug, breathing him in, clinging to him as if his life depended on it, which it did three years ago, which it did again now, which it basically had since they met. He nuzzled into Blaine’s hair. Maybe if they got close enough, if they held each other hard enough, they couldn’t get pulled apart.

They carried the kids to bed. They tucked them in and kissed their heads. They slept wrapped around each other, constantly waking up to check they were both still there.

~

Blaine hadn’t let go of Kurt’s hand since they got out of the car. Rachel had taken the kids; they wanted to keep them away from hospital stuff as much as possible. They sat stiffly in the waiting room, fingers squeezed together, staring at the door leading into Artie’s office. He wasn’t a cancer specialist, but they wanted a friendly face.

The oncologist was different this time; a man with dark skin and what probably would have been a big smile under different circumstances. He held up various scans of Kurt’s chest, a silver shell full of bones which Kurt couldn’t help thinking was weirdly beautiful. Blaine only saw danger. He loved his job, the people, the kids, the ability to shout ‘Trust me; I’m a doctor’, but it carried the risk of knowing more than he wanted to. He glared at the pictures, putting his other hand over Kurt’s to provide extra protection. Kurt closed his eyes when he felt it. He understood every movement Blaine made, and this one meant it was bad.

“Okay, one of you has to translate this for me. Stop all the intense doctor staring and tell me what it means.”

Artie glanced at Blaine, who remained silent.

“It doesn’t look good.”

Kurt sighed. He could’ve guessed that. He thought about asking more questions, getting all the information he could, understanding why it was happening again, but he knew it was pointless. All the medical knowledge in the world wouldn’t make this go away.

“Well… What do we do first? I mean, chemo, surgery, radio-”

“Kurt.”

There was a heavy pause. Kurt closed his eyes for a moment. All he could feel was Blaine’s hands wrapped around his.

“What are my chances? Give me a number. Forty per cent? Thirty?”

Artie looked to the man next to him. He couldn’t get the words out.

“Mr Hummel-”

“Anderson-Hummel,” Kurt and Artie corrected him simultaneously. Blaine said nothing, his glassy eyes still staring at the scans.

“Mr Anderson-Hummel,” he went on, “it’s very unlikely that you’ll-”

“Please. Give me a number.” Kurt’s voice was weak and shaky. Blaine’s hand wasn’t enough to hold; he wanted all of him, he wanted to wrap his arms all the way around him, he wanted warmth against his chest, he wanted Alex, Sophie, the dog, Blaine, Blaine, Blaine-

“It’s probably more like five. If that.”

“Kurt, I’m so sorry, but it’s already spread-”

Blaine finally chimed in.

“No.”

Kurt pulled his hand up and Blaine’s arm over his heart.

“What?”

“I said no. I’ve seen cases worse than this and they’ve pulled through it. They fight it and they win. We can fight it too.”

“Blaine, it’s different with kids. Their bodies are more resilient, they can handle the treatment, but Kurt’s already been through it once. The older you get, the harder it is to fight, you know that-”

“I know Kurt. Kurt can do it.”

As far as Blaine was concerned, Kurt could do anything.

“Blaine, wait a second; maybe we should listen-”

“No.”

Artie wheeled himself away from his desk and towards the men in front of him, who were clinging to each other desperately and barely holding back tears.

“Blaine, listen to me. You’ve seen how hard it is. Kurt’s felt it. It would be a lot of stress to put on your family, on everything, and it’d probably only buy you some time. A few months. That is-”

“What?”

Artie blinked and looked down for a second before forcing himself to look them in the eyes again. It made him feel sick, as if he was the one doing this to them.

“Kurt, the treatment itself might be too much. I don’t want to tell you what you’ve heard before-”

“Artie; just spit it out.”

“It breaks you down. Your immune system, everything, and the risk of infection, especially living with small children-”

Blaine tried to interrupt, but he knew it was true. He’d given the same speech.

“So… Either the cancer kills me… or the cure does? That’s it?”

“Even if we can hold it off, your quality of life- it could very well make the time you have left unbearable.”

He was struggling to keep up the professional fa�ade, but he refused to let the other doctor take over. The least he could do was tell them himself. He didn’t know why it was important or how it could help or what the point was of him saying anything, but he knew he had to do it.

“So,” Blaine whispered, muffled and trembling, “how long?”

“Six months. Maybe eight if we fight it, eight bad ones. All we can do is make you-”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare say ‘comfortable’. Wheelchair or no wheelchair, I’ll hit you.”

“Blaine,” Kurt mumbled, finally locking eyes with him, sniffing and squeezing his hand even tighter, “Please, just… please.”

Blaine stared back at him and felt his breaths getting shorter, Kurt’s hand shaking as it clutched at his, and froze as a tear fell down Kurt’s cheek. He didn’t realised his own face was lined with matching ones.

Artie took a deep breath and sat up straight. After a sharp bite on his lip, because compared to them he knew he had no right to be upset, he finally choked out ‘we’ll give you a minute’ and left, followed by the oncologist. He gave them a nod of condolence that they didn’t see.

The second the door clicked shut, Kurt started to gasp for breath and shake his head.

“No, no, no, no…”

Blaine slid out of his seat to kneel in front of him, their arms still joined together, clutching at his knee, his thigh, his shoulder, pulling him as close as he could. His hand brushed over Kurt’s cheek and he tangled his fingers into his hair, rocking back and forth with him. There was nothing else he could say. ‘No’ was it. ‘No’ was suddenly everything.

“Blaine, no, we did it, we already did this, we won, how is it back? It’s not fair, it’s not fair, Blaine, it’s not fair-”

And all Blaine could do was hold him. He nodded, their foreheads pressed together so they were synchronized, and kept nodding because Kurt was right; it wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. It wasn’t fair that Kurt would have to go through this again, that they weren’t even giving him any options, that this was it; how could this be it? They were supposed to be adorable old people together; they were at least supposed to stumble their way through parenthood together. Sophie wasn’t even two.

“No,” Blaine whispered into Kurt’s mouth as they held each other close, “not like this. We can’t- we’re not-”

Kurt looked up. He’d stopped sucking in panicked breaths between sobs. He’d stopped breathing altogether, and was staring into Blaine’s eyes, scared and confused.

“What?”

“We’re not done, Kurt. Not yet. We can’t- No,” he repeated. He didn’t know who he was trying to convince, but it was always ‘we’. They were one thing, joined by hands or lips or just words, they were ‘we’. Blaine couldn’t fathom becoming ‘I’, not now, not after all these years.

“Blaine, he just said-”

“I don’t care. They don’t know you, Kurt. They don’t know us. We can do anything.”

Kurt wasn’t convinced.

“Blaine, this isn’t something we can work our way around. It’s serious. If I’m- If this is all we’ve got, I don’t want to be wiped out by chemo again. I just want to be with you.”

“That’s all I want, Kurt, but six months isn’t enough. Eight months isn’t enough. The only thing that’s ever going to be enough is until we’re both old and wrinkly and crazy and the kids hate us and we’re just drinking tea in a home talking about the good old days. There’s too much stuff that hasn’t happened yet; we don’t have all our stories.” He knew he wasn’t making any sense; he didn’t care. “What about the time we tried to go to London but I forgot our passports so we went and stayed in a hotel in the city just because we could?”

“What? Blaine-”

“Exactly; it hasn’t happened yet. We’re not done, Kurt. No.”

“Blaine. Even if I can beat it again, we can’t keep ignoring the fact that this is probably what’s going to kill me. Not last time. Maybe not this time, either. But someday it’ll come back and it’ll win.”

“Hey, don’t think like that. You don’t know; you could get hit by a bus, or you could be in a plane crash, or you could always be the victim of a brutal murder; there’s still plenty of time…”

“Blaine-”

“No.”

“Baby,” he put his hands on his husband’s face, forcing him to keep still and look him in the eyes, “stop.”

His eyes were glistening. He couldn’t speak; his voice would’ve snapped like a twig. Kurt’s voice was trembling too.

“Blaine, I just… I don’t know if I can fight it again. I’m not strong enough.”

Blaine swallowed hard. He managed to force a few words out. They weren’t much, and they sounded strangled and hoarse, but they were enough.

“You are. We are.”

~

Kurt spat into the cardboard bowl next to him, ejecting the final flecks of vomit from his mouth. Blaine ran his thumb over Kurt’s fingers softly, tracing his wedding ring, before reading more from the magazine. He knew Kurt would slap him if he stopped. He didn’t even flinch at the throwing up anymore. Before it was painful to watch, knowing there was nothing he could do. Now he knew his job was distraction.

Kurt listened intently, interrupting to argue with the article being read to him. Neither of them paid any attention to the needle in his arm. Blaine passed him a paper cup of water to wash his mouth out.

A nurse walked by Kurt’s bed and smiled.

~

“I’ve found something. Kurt? Kurt, I’ve got something!”

Kurt’s head snapped to attention as he woke up. He’d been trying to read all afternoon, but he was exhausted and kept falling asleep. He dragged himself off the sofa and into the kitchen, where Blaine was hunched over his laptop, surrounded by journals and papers and case studies.

“What?” He pulled the blanket up over his shoulders. He put his hands on Blaine’s shoulders, massaging them gently, peering at the screen.

“There’s a study. This monkey, Gregory-”

“They name the monkey? They name him then test drugs on him? That seems a little- wait, are you going to get me a monkey drug?”

“Relax; they’re like the closest thing to humans as far as lungs are concerned. There’s a tiny bit of their DNA that-” he could sense Kurt’s interest waning as soon as he started getting technical. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that Gregory’s gone into remission.”

“I bet his husband’s pleased.”

“Kurt! This is huge!”

“He’s a monkey! Even if it does work on people, even if it can fix me when I’m this far gone-” Blaine winced. Kurt always forgot he wasn’t supposed to talk about it like that around him. He made a mental note to call Santana later. “Even if it did work, it’s not like it’s going to get approval in time. I know you’re trying, baby, it just seems like kind of a long shot.”

“But Kurt, look. There’s a trial. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. They’re running the first human study. We can get you this drug now.”

“Is it safe?”

“It’s safer than cancer.”

He could tell Blaine wasn’t comfortable being so flippant. That was Kurt’s coping mechanism, not his. He’d treated children with the same disease, and to see his husband almost destroyed by it twice must have been devastating- but they’d made an agreement not to try to imagine what the other was going through, because they knew they couldn’t and they would both end up feeling guilty. Their own feelings were more than enough to cope with. They’d been given their roles, and they weren’t allowed to switch. Only one of them wanted to.

If Blaine was being casual, it meant he was serious.

“Okay. So, we try to get this drug. How do you do that? Ask nicely?”

“I know people, Kurt. That won’t be a problem.”

Kurt smirked.

“Sounds dangerous. Does somebody owe you? Ooh, did you do something immoral for somebody with the promise that they’d give you anything you wanted, anytime you asked?”

“Depends if you call an appendectomy immoral; The DA’s daughter. I know nepotism is evil and everything, but I’ve made some connections. A lot of people owe me.”

“Since when do you go calling in favours?”

“Since my husband was dying.” He bit his lip and closed his eyes. Kurt’s hands stilled for a second in shock before moving up to stroke Blaine’s hair. He bent down to press a long, careful kiss to his crown. He slid his hands down to stroke his arms and chest, wrapping himself around him and kissing his cheek before resting his chin on his shoulder. He held his hands over Blaine’s heartbeat, stroking softly back and forth.

Blaine’s chest heaved under his palm. He wrapped both of his hands around Kurt’s.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, Kurt, I shouldn’t have said that-”

“You shouldn’t have to do all this, but you are. Blaine Anderson-”

“Anderson-Hummel-”

“You didn’t let me finish. Blaine Anderson-Hummel, the only paediatrician who’d work for free if he was allowed, is pulling strings with important people to get me treatment. It makes me feel special. I know you hate this, honey.”

“I hate you being sick. I love that I can do something about it. I’ll do anything, Kurt. I swear.”

“But it’s only a trial.”

“Yes.”

“So I might not actually-”

“No. You could get the placebo. I would try and fix that too, but they could kick you out altogether. Maybe-the-drug is better than no drug at all.”

Kurt nodded, turning his head so his nose rubbed against Blaine’s stubble.

“I’m gonna make coffee. You want one?”

“No. And neither do you.”

“Please-”

“No. Not after three or you won’t sleep. Tea.”

“You’re mean.”

“Yeah, I’m the worst.”

~

When he recovered the first time, Kurt got a lot more handsy. It wasn’t just with Blaine and the kids; he hugged everyone, even the dog, at every opportunity, just because he could. He could touch people without risking infection or worrying about germs. He slept with Blaine coiled tightly around him every night, the smells of his skin, his breath, his shampoo wafting up his nose. They lulled him to sleep, and reminded him that he was okay.

They’d had to rebuild the wall of pillows in the bed. Blaine had made a grand display of destroying it before, throwing the cushions to the floor and beating his chest like an ape, and he and Alex had jumped on the pile until the pillows split, sending feathers floating around the room. That was what had led to the ‘when this is over, let’s have another one’ discussion. They wanted to fill the house with as many laughing voices as they could.

No matter how high the wall got, Blaine would almost always find a way to sneak a hand through and link it with Kurt’s. That was fine. It was adorable. But tonight, despite being fast asleep, he’d climbed right over and curled up next to Kurt. Kurt’s body reacted naturally to the heat pressing against him and turned to pull him close, but as soon as he buried his nose in Blaine’s full, thick hair (he may have actually been part gorilla), he was wide awake.

Blaine woke up, on the wrong side of the pillow wall, to the sound of Kurt retching over the sink. He jumped up and darted over to rub his back and kiss his shoulder. His body was shaking with cold and the force of his heaves.

“Blaine, don’t; it’s gross-”

“Baby, I don’t care. I’m not going to stay in bed while you’re…”

“Throwing up because I smelled your hair?” He whispered before his stomach lurched.

“I can’t believe I did it again. Sorry.”

Kurt shook his head. Blaine kept stroking his back.

“Kurt, do you think I should- I mean, just until this wears off, do you think I should sleep in the spare room?”

Kurt took a slurp from the glass of water next to the basin and shook his head again. He spat it out.

“Don’t you dare.”

“But, darling, I don’t want to keep making you sick-”

“If I have to sleep alone, I’ll be even sicker. You’re not going anywhere.”

Blaine nodded, smiling to himself. As much as he hated seeing him like this, he’d been hoping Kurt would say that.

~

“This is weird. I don’t even know where to look. You should know, if I get caught talking to you, I’m gonna be in a lot of trouble, so don’t tell Kurt. Not that he’d listen. I’ve got my hands together… Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Well, me. Not you. I’m guessing you don’t really have to do this much.

“First off, I’m mad at you. I mean, you’ve done some stuff right - Kurt, and the kids, even that snooty cat, you know, A plus. Good work. But now it feels like a trick. I feel like you’ve made everything so good just so you can fuck it up for a joke, but this isn’t funny. Not a little bit.

“We already did this once. We fought and it was awful and he was in so much pain, and he lost his hair, and you know how much he loves his hair, and everybody was so scared, but we kept going. Shouldn’t there be some kind of reward? Can’t we get a break? How come we have to do it twice, and some people don’t have to do it at all? I know I’m supposed to say ‘I wouldn’t wish this on anyone’, but I totally would. If I could flick a switch and put somebody else through this instead of him, I wouldn’t even think about it. I wouldn’t even be that sorry. Okay, I would, I’d feel terrible, but Kurt would be better. Alex and Sophie would have both of their dads. Our family wouldn’t break.

“Isn’t it my turn to get sick now anyway? Why isn’t it me having treatment and throwing up and feeling exhausted and miserable? I guess… I guess we’re all miserable. The truth is they need him more. Everybody. The world needs Kurt more than me. If it’s just me left, I won’t be enough. I’m not enough as it is, never mind if he… without…

“Oh God, I- sorry. Wait; is it still blasphemy if I’m talking to you anyway? Isn’t that, like, a loophole or something? Jesus. Oh, shit, that definitely counts. And I’m not meant to say shit, am I? I’m sorry, okay; I’ve never done this before. But I’m desperate. You have to do something. You owe us. You owe us pretty fucking big. Make it go away. Make it leave and never come back. Make him better. At least make me stronger for him, because right now… Right now, I’m weak. I’m broken, and I need help. We need something. We need a fucking miracle, and that’s supposed to be your thing. Please.”

~

“Fuck.”

“Maybe later; I have to go and get Alex from school.”

Kurt smiled. It was still weird having Blaine around during the day. He tried to argue when he’d announced he was going to stop working, but they both knew they didn’t need the money, and he enjoyed doing the domestic stuff just as much as he did his job. Neither of them said that if they had a time limit, they didn’t want to spend it apart.

“No, Blaine- come here.”

He heard whispering and a giggle, and Blaine shuffled into the room, holding Sophie’s hands as she waddled in front of him.

“Let’s go see Daddy…”

Kurt turned to face him, a tuft of hair in his hand.

“What’s left of him, anyway.”

“Kurt-”

“It’s okay; you don’t have to give me the speech. I know you aren’t suddenly repulsed or anything. It’s just. I hate it. I love my hair.”

They both glanced at the razor by the mirror.

They remembered the conversation they’d had three years ago, where Kurt had been crying because he didn’t look like himself, because he thought he looked ugly, and Blaine had grabbed the exact same razor. A few buzzes and not a single word later, his hair was gone but for a few millimetres he’d missed. It was uneven and messy and unflattering, but he was grinning anyway.

“Sucks that you hate bald people so much. You’re beautiful.”

It hadn’t exactly been a speech, but it had been enough. He kissed Kurt on the cheek and dusted the curls from his shoulders, then strolled to the kitchen to make lunch. Kurt stared at the floor, covered in black hairs, and back to his own reflection. He stroked what was left of his hair before wrapping it up in a white silk scarf.

“Get your ass back here; I’m not cleaning this up!”

Kurt picked it up this time.

“No point holding onto it. It’s scarf or hair; no in between. I’m not going to spend hours trying to make it look normal.”

They both knew it was because he wanted to be in control of something. He couldn’t make himself better but he could make sure he lost his hair on his own terms.

He walked to the bathroom, laying a towel over the counter. Blaine picked Sophie up and followed him. He almost said something about how normal didn’t matter, but Kurt knew that. If Blaine had wanted normal, he wouldn’t have married him in the first place.

Kurt went slowly, making sure everything was smooth. He hated clutter in the house; he wasn’t going to stand for it on his head. He took a deep breath as he looked at himself. It was official; he was sick Kurt again. He reached up to stroke the soft, pale surface, but Blaine had beaten him to it. He was smiling.

“Doesn’t Daddy look gorgeous?” he whispered to Sophie, who nodded and clapped.

Kurt grinned and kissed her forehead. Blaine handed her over to Kurt and grabbed the razor. Kurt snorted, and he looked at him, confused. His nose was wrinkled.

“What? I thought-”

“No offense, honey, but-”

“But what?”

“Well, it was a lovely gesture and everything, but… I’ve seen you without hair now.”

Blaine’s mouth fell open in mock distress.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kurt lifted Sophie up.

“Baby, do you want Dad to have no hair as well?”

She shook her head gravely.

“Really, Kurt? You’re using the baby? Classy.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. You just can’t pull this off like I can. Besides,” he ran his fingers through Blaine’s hair, “I like having something to grab onto.”

That was difficult to argue with.

Blaine stood on his toes and kissed Kurt’s head, smiling at the cool skin under his lips.

~

It was quiet when they got home. No scrabbling claws on the floor or gentle purring. Santana had taken Edward and Pepper was staying Burt and Carole. They had to eliminate any chance of infection, which meant getting rid of anyone that would bring germs into the house. Before they even sat down, they automatically squeezed out a blob of hand sanitizer into their palms, rubbing it in. Blaine had shopped around and found one that actually moisturized as well as disinfecting. He shrugged off his heavy winter coat, hanging it up, but Kurt kept his on. His weight loss made it hard to hold heat in.

Kurt was almost glad Finn hadn’t brought the kids back yet. He wasn’t really ready to hear about how amazing the zoo was and how Sophie refused to leave the penguins for at least an hour and how they had ice cream and how they want to go again tomorrow, or maybe when it wasn’t so cold, but next time they want their dads to come too. He was already pissed off with the animal kingdom, with the birds for waking him up as soon as he finally got to sleep when it was getting light, with the cat and dog for making him love them without him realising, for being another thing he had to miss.

He heard Blaine close the front door behind them then felt his hand brush past his waist as he aimed straight for the coffee pot. He automatically grabbed the jar of dill pickles from the cupboard. Kurt wrinkled his nose.

“I don’t want one.”

“You know you can’t taste the coffee properly unless you have one.”

Kurt’s face fell. Even though that decaf coffee tasted vile anyway, he knew Blaine was right. He’d been so sick of everything tasting like metal because of the chemo, and Blaine jumped onto Google to find some remedies. Dill pickles worked the best. It was just a shame he hated them.

He sat down at the table and plucked one from the jar reluctantly, pinching his nose and eating it as quickly as he could. He scowled at Blaine for laughing at the face he pulled every time.

“It’s not funny. I’m suffering, remember?”

Blaine put on his most convincing serious face.

“Right, of course, sorry. Cookie?”

“It’s the least you can do.”

Blaine gave him a giant cookie on a plate, absent-mindedly stroking his scarf-covered head before returning to the coffee, reaching for two mugs. They had dozens, but only ever used the two biggest ones. They matched, and more importantly they meant fewer trips back to the pot to get more.

Kurt broke the cookie in half, taking a bite then staring at it blankly.

“You’re quiet.”

Kurt looked up to see Blaine, looking concerned as he handed him his coffee and sat on the chair next to his, elbows on the table, drink in hand, ready to listen.

“I wasn’t tired.”

Blaine didn’t say anything; just waited for Kurt to explain.

“I mean, I was. I am. I’m always tired, but that’s not why I wanted to come home.”

Blaine nodded, letting his foot brush against Kurt’s ankle. It was so casual but still so comforting.

“I couldn’t concentrate on anything. They’ve started staring again. People have always stared at me because of what I wear, or because my voice is too high, or because they can see how gay I am from space, and I liked it. At first it was what made me vulnerable, what made people hate me, but now people see me with you, they see our wedding rings, see us with Alex and Sophie, and I like that they know. I want everyone to see us, how happy we are, because… Well, it’s part of who I am. You all make me so happy and so strong, but now they’re giving me the other kind of stare. The headscarf stare.”

He put the piece of cookie back down on his plate and laid his hand on the table. Blaine slid his own under it, linking their fingers and lifting it up to press his lips against Kurt’s knuckles. Kurt finally looked at him instead of his coffee.

“People are staring at me and seeing a sick guy again. They’re all thinking ‘oh, he’s got cancer; he must be so brave’, and suddenly I kind of miss being ‘the gay one’.”

Blaine squeezes his hand, keeping it clasped at his mouth. He closes his eyes and kisses his knuckles again, focusing on his wedding ring this time. Kurt takes a deep breath.

“I miss people judging me; it was easier than them thinking that I’m just some helpless, vulnerable-”

Blaine couldn’t help shaking his head, reaching out to stroke his shoulder.

“No, Kurt-”

“I miss people being impressed by me, instead of going all sympathetic and sad, and it’s not just that; I miss having the energy to go shopping with you, I miss pushing Alex on the swings, I miss helping Sophie play dress-up and walking the dog with all of you without getting exhausted, and staying up with you and Rachel and Santana and singing and playing the piano ‘til 5am when the kids are with Dad-” Kurt had to stop for breath; he hadn’t realised how long the list was until it was spilling from his lips, emptying his lungs. “Blaine, I miss my hair. I miss playing with it and making it look fantastic and I miss you washing it, going slowly, just rubbing my shoulders and kissing my neck and- oh, God, I miss having sex with you, Blaine-”

“But-”

“No, I know it’s been too long-”

“I don’t care about any of that-”

“But I care. I hate that I can’t be close to you like I used to be; I know you’re going to argue but I miss being able to make you happy like that-”

“But-”

Kurt raised his eyebrows.

“Fine; you knew I would argue. I’m telling you anyway, Kurt, it doesn’t matter. You make me happy. You’ve made me happy for years, okay, since we were sixteen, and this doesn’t change that.”

“Blaine-”

“No, it’s my turn. Look at me.” He took Kurt’s face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. “Feel my hands. Feel my skin against yours. This is closeness. We’ve got everything we need, and soon you’re gonna get better and we’ll get all of that back, but it doesn’t matter.”

“But Blaine, what if-” he paused. He was scared of saying out loud. Blaine slid off his seat and knelt in front of Kurt, putting a hand on the small of his back and using the other to hold Kurt’s again. Both of their eyes were watering, and Blaine knew he had to push if Kurt was going to finish that thought.
“Kurt,” he kissed his hand, “I’m here,” another kiss and a stroke on his hip, “tell me.”

Kurt swallowed and wet his lips. He stopped sounding exasperated and just became scared, his voice trembling. This was why he didn’t want people to think he was weak. It was because they were right.

“What if I don’t get another chance? What if- there are all these things- these things I’m missing and I never get to- what if there’s no time-”

Blaine stood up and wrapped himself around his husband, holding Kurt’s head to his chest so he could hear his heartbeat, laying a firm hand flat on his back and stroking it softly.

“Blaine, I- I don’t want to die-”

Blaine clamped his mouth shut as his face crumpled. He pulled Kurt closer, resting his cheek on top of his head. The silk of his scarf was almost as soft as his hair had been. He clung to his shoulders, rocking him with every shudder. They’d both been thinking it for so long, but neither of them had said the ‘D’ word. He knew his fingers were digging into Kurt’s skin, but he couldn’t stop himself. He needed to feel him, to know he was still there. Kurt gave as good as he got, clawing at Blaine’s back, pulling him down and burying his face in his shirt until they both slid to the floor.

Kurt pulled his fragile knees up to his chest and Blaine folded his arms around him until they were moulded together, Kurt’s head tucked towards Blaine’s neck. They both kept whispering to each other, ‘I don’t want to go’ and ‘I love you’ and ‘I’ve got you’. Even though almost every inch of them was touching, they both kept pulling, kept trying to be closer.

Blaine pulled back for a moment, cupping Kurt’s cheek with his hand again. Kurt looked up at him, unblinking, staring at him for as long as he could in case someday he had to stop. Blaine ran his thumb along the edge of Kurt’s scarf, dark blue, tied immaculately at the back and fastened with a silver pin. He slid his thumb under the fabric until the whole thing slipped off. He bundled it up and put it on the chair, because he knew he’d be in trouble if he left a $200 scarf on the floor. He looked at Kurt. Kurt bowed his head, but Blaine lifted it back up by the chin. Their eyes locked. Blaine ran a hand over Kurt’s head, pale and bald and pristine, making him shiver. He leaned forward, kissing it all over. Kurt closed his eyes, letting himself be caressed, dropping his head forward again with a quiet hum as Blaine reached his neck, still kissing him, still stroking his back, rubbing his shoulder before pulling him close again.

“Kurt,” he said between kisses, “you are so beautiful,” another kiss, “and so strong,” another, “and so perfect,” he stroked over the smooth surface, “and you are not going anywhere. I won’t let you. Do you know what I see when I look at you?”

Kurt shook his head, looking at his knees.

“I don’t see a sick person or a victim or just some gay guy. I see my husband. I see the father of my children. I see my best friend, and most importantly,” he ducked down to catch Kurt’s eye again, “I see a hot piece of ass and I know that I’m the only one who gets to sleep next to you every night, and that’s more than anyone else gets, and that is all the closeness I need.”

Kurt burst out laughing, whether from exhaustion or relief or from Blaine being an idiot or from knowing that Blaine was his idiot, and let his head fall against his chest. He sniffed.

“Blaine.”

“Yeah?”

“That was really inappropriate.”

“I know.”

“Blaine.”

“Yep?”

“Thank you.”

~

Blaine listened through the wall to the water, which seemed to have been running for hours.

“Sweetheart, that’s enough for tonight.”

“But I want to know what happens next-”

“Sorry, munchkin; you can have more tomorrow. It’s time to go to sleep.”

Alex frowned.

“I’m not even tired,” he tried to say as his mouth stretched into a yawn. Blaine smiled.

“Of course you’re not. Tell you what, why don’t you try closing your eyes, and putting your head down on the pillow, and I’ll turn the lights out. If you’re not asleep when I come back later, then you can have the rest of the chapter.”

He could still hear crashing noises coming from the bathroom as water continued to cascade into the tub.

Alex tried to resist, but his body soon went limp as he fell asleep. Blaine kissed his temple and padded to the bathroom. He knocked gently.

“Kurt?”

“Go away.”

“Kurt, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Blaine, I’m fine.” He’d obviously been crying.

“I’m coming in.”

“No-”

He opened the door anyway. He could barely see through the steam. Kurt’s head was so pale, with no eyebrows or lashes to define it, that he almost blended into the white walls. He walked towards the sound of his strangled breaths.

“I’m cold. I’m trying to get warm, but I- I can’t.”

Blaine knelt next to the tub and ran a hand through the water before snatching it away. It was scalding.

“Jesus, Kurt!” He jumped up to turn the faucet off. “It’s boiling, you’re gonna hurt yourself-”

The fog finally cleared around Kurt’s head as he switched the cold water on. His face was scrunched up and pink. Blaine glanced down to see his legs, flushed scarlet. He was staring at his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks. He flinched when Blaine laid a palm on his back. He’d never looked so small.

“I’m sorry, Blaine, I’m sorry, I just- why can’t- I still can’t feel my feet. I’m so- I’m so cold.”

Blaine reached up, rubbing his back, his neck, his head, and Kurt leaned into the touch, his body convulsing with each sob. He twisted the tap, stopping the water so that the only noises in the room were Kurt’s stuttering breaths and his own attempts at soothing him. The only words he could come up with were ‘it’s okay’ and ‘shhh’. He stood up and perched on the rim of the tub, pulling Kurt close, soaking his shirt and jeans, rocking him gently. He kissed his scalp again and again, rubbing his icy hands.

“Come here, baby, I’ve got you,” he whispered, bending as low as he could to cradle Kurt against his chest. Kurt let out a weak laugh, but it could have been another whimper.

“Blaine, you’re soaked-”

“Don’t care.”

He pulled his shirt off and threw it on the floor, quickly followed by his jeans and boxers, leaving them in a sopping heap. He climbed into the tub behind Kurt, wincing as the scorching water lapped at his skin.

“Wait, if it’s too hot-”

“It’s fine. It’s okay.”

He wrapped his arms around Kurt’s waist, lining their bodies up, every inch pressing together. Blaine kissed across his shoulders and pulled Kurt in between his legs while Kurt folded his own arms over the ones holding him. He was enveloped by warmth, and while it didn’t bring the sensation back into his fingers and toes, it turned his insides to liquid. He tensed when Blaine’s arms slid away, scared to lose contact, but he heard the pop of the shampoo cap. He heard Blaine rubbing his hands together, warming the liquid up before massaging his scalp. He closed his eyes, letting his head fall into Blaine’s hands. He kept tracing across the bumps of his skull, and Kurt instinctively screwed his eyes shut. He waited for shampoo to get in his eyes, having no eyebrows or lashes to catch it, but they stayed dry. He felt the firm line of Blaine’s hand catching every bubble before it could slide down his forehead. He let out a soft ‘mmm’ as water licked at his skin and Blaine caressed his head and he felt his pulse thrumming against his back.

Neither of them pointed out that he didn’t have any hair that needed washing. Neither of them said anything. Blaine cupped water in his hand and rinsed Kurt’s head with it, still keeping every drop away from his eyes. As soon as the bubbles had been washed away, leaving Kurt’s head soft and shining, he lay back against Blaine. They both closed their eyes and soaked up the silence until the water started to go cold.

~

Blaine heard screaming as soon as he opened the door.

Alex was about to investigate, but Blaine put a hand over his chest, dropping the bag of groceries he was carrying.

“Alex, baby, you need to stay here. Let me go and see what’s wrong, okay, then- just wait a minute. Can you do that for me?”

Alex blinked up at him, completely lost, but nodded anyway. He didn’t understand, but he trusted his father unconditionally. It never occurred to him not to.

Blaine ran to Sophie’s room, where the noise was coming from, shouting Kurt’s name. She’d never be crying like this if he was holding her. Something had to be wrong. He lifted her out of the crib where she was standing, crying, red-cheeked and tear-stained. He shushed her, trying to mask the panic coursing through him. She could feel the tension in his arms and the erratic rhythm of his breathing, and the crying didn’t stop.

“Kurt?”

He ran into their bedroom. Nothing. Office, bathroom – empty. He bolted down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Kurt was slumped against the fridge, blood pooled around him. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he was so pale Blaine could almost see through him.

“Oh, shit. Oh no, no, no, Kurt, no, what- what happened?” he asked, knowing nobody could answer him. He glanced around and saw a chopping board covered in vegetables, the knife balanced precariously on the edge of the counter; there was barely a smudge of blood on it. How had that turned into this?

He squeezed Sophie into the highchair, grimacing as her screams got louder. He fell to the floor, pulling out his phone and dialling 911 as he tried to figure out where all the blood was coming from.

“Yes, I need an ambulance. My husband. He’s bleeding. He’s having chemotherapy, and has shown signs of anaemia. He’s passed out. I think he’s cut himself. He’s lost a lot of blood.” Where was this coming from? How was he staying so calm? He let the doctor part of his brain take over, giving the operator all the information they needed and picking up Kurt’s arm, finding the cut and applying pressure. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his wrist, around the gash that couldn’t have been more than half an inch wide. He kept talking, gripping the phone between his ear and shoulder. He told them things about Kurt’s illness, his reactions to the treatment, that he didn’t even know he’d taken on board. He’d been bruising easily, suffering with fatigue, having difficulty breathing, chest pains he’d never complained of but Blaine knew about anyway.

He talked about him as if he were just another patient, but another look down at the blood on his hands and it hit him. That was Kurt’s blood. It was Kurt lying on the floor, unconscious, bleeding, limp as Blaine tried to heave him up. The phone fell to the floor. Dr Anderson-Hummel was gone, and Blaine was alone, scared, and soaked in his husband’s blood which wouldn’t stop oozing from his arm. Kurt’s blood was so thin that the wound wouldn’t close. He knew exactly what was happening; a shortage of blood platelets made it impossible for a clot to form, stopping the cut from sealing. He suddenly had all of the medical knowledge, but none of the discipline, none of the rationality and no way of coping. He was almost hysterical, hauling Kurt up into his lap, cupping his face, trying to shout him back to life. He pushed one of Kurt’s eyebrows up, opening his eye. His pupil shrank in reaction to the light, but there was no movement. No life. Nothing.

His voice kept cracking as he cried onto Kurt, shaking him and rocking back and forth.

“Come on, Kurt, please, just wake up, please, it can’t happen like this; not from cooking, for fuck’s sake – You can’t die now, not after all this, Kurt, you can’t-”

“Dad?”

Blaine turned to see Alex standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and his jaw trembling. He cut his hysterics short.

“Okay, Alex, okay, keep your eyes on me. Alex!”

The little boy’s breathing sped up as he tried to focus on his father while the other one lay on the ground, his clothes stained red, his face pale and blank. He wanted to do what Blaine told him, but all he could see was the blood on the floor, on his hands, on everything.

“Dad, is he- is he dead?”

“No, baby, he’s not dead.” He saw his eyes flicker back to Kurt. “Alex, keep your eyes on mine, okay. Up here.”

He stayed glued to the spot, shaking all over. Blaine wanted to run and pick him up and make everything okay, but he didn’t want to get blood on his hands too, and between Kurt weighing him down, Sophie screaming and Alex looking so lost and terrified, Blaine felt stuck. He had to be doctor, husband, father, all at once, and his brain threatened to shut down. He took a deep breath and looked Alex in the eyes.

“Right.” He forced his voice to be strong and firm for him. Maybe it was for himself. It didn’t matter. “I know you’re scared, and that’s normal, but right now Sophie’s scared too. I need to look after Daddy, so I’m gonna need you to look after her. Can you be her brave big brother, just until the ambulance arrives? Then they can come and help us.”

Alex didn’t nod, but he pressed his lips together firmly. Blaine pulled his sweater off and laid it over Kurt, propping his arm up awkwardly to keep it elevated. He had to postpone the breakdown for now. He jumped up, wiped the tears from his cheeks and washed his hands so he wouldn’t cover Alex in blood, then lifted Sophie out of her seat and walked into the living room, talking calmly to her and kissing her head. Alex followed obediently.

“That’s it; you’re doing really well, okay? Now it’s really important that you stay in here. Sophie’s counting on you. I’m counting on you.”

“But, Daddy’s- he’s-” his breathing became hurried again, and Blaine sat Sophie down on the floor and put a hand on his cheek.

“He’s gonna be fine. He had an accident, but some people are going to come and fix him up. He might have to stay at the hospital for a couple of days, but then he’ll come home. He always comes home, remember?”

Alarm bells were ringing in Blaine’s head. You can’t make those promises. You can’t lie to him. But he didn’t know what else to do. He’d said this stuff to Alex before, but this was the first time he’d struggled to believe it himself.

He pushed those thoughts out of his mind and focused on the scared little boy in front of him. He held his face close.

“Alex, are you listening to me?” Alex glanced back towards the kitchen, but Blaine pulled him back so they were just inches apart. “Baby, look at me. I need you to make sure Sophie stays quiet, just like this. Hold her hand; talk to her. See if you can teach her how to say ‘Alex’. I’m gonna call Rachel and get her to come over here and look after you; how does that sound?”

Alex sniffed and nodded.

“Good.”

“You’re being really brave, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you. I know I’m asking you for a lot, but I need to go and look after Daddy. This door stays closed until I say. All you need to think about is Sophie.”

He nodded again.

Blaine pulled him into a hug, squeezing his eyes closed as he felt his tiny shaking body and his fluttering heartbeat. He laid his palm flat over his back, stroking it soothingly. Alex clung on, wrapping his arms tightly around his father’s neck and clutching at his collar. Blaine felt his tears on his cheek.

“I’m going to go back into the kitchen, because Daddy needs me, just like Sophie needs you. Be brave for me, just for now.”

He kissed his forehead. Alex said nothing. He just blinked quickly and chewed his lip. Part of Blaine wanted to stay here with him, keep holding him and stopping him from being scared, stay away from the nightmare in the next room, but he held on. He kept holding on for Kurt.

“It’s me. It’s Blaine. Rach, he’s- I need you. You have to come and take the kids.”

She arrived just as Kurt was being lifted into the ambulance. Blaine was standing next to it, taking deep breaths and rubbing his hands over his face.

“Blaine!” She was running down the block. She’d obviously run the whole way. It was only four blocks, but it was busy, and her face was red and her hair was sticking to her skin.

“Oh, hi, they, uh-”

She grabbed him, hugged him, and asked where Alex and Sophie were.

“In the living room. There’s blood in the kitchen. It’s everywhere. I didn’t know what to- can you take them to yours? He was so scared. I have to go. Should I take stuff? He’ll need clothes. Shit. I don’t have time to-”

Rachel laid a palm on either side of his face, and they looked into each other’s eyes, both breathless, both tearful.

“Blaine, stop. I’ll grab some stuff. I’ll call Finn. He can bring it to you. Text me when you get there. Go.”

He nodded, still shaking all over.

“Sweetie, are you okay?” She dropped her head forward as soon as she’d said it. Of course he wasn’t. “I just meant- have you- is there anything else I can do?”

He swallowed.

“Just take care of them. I’ll be fine. I’ve got to-”

She nodded.

“Of course. Go. I’ll take them to mine.”

She tried to hug him again but he shook his head, knowing he didn’t have time to break down now.

~

He froze in the corner of the ambulance. He stared at Kurt, breathed in, breathed out – it was as much as he could manage. He didn’t think. He didn’t cry. He stayed out of the way so the paramedics could work, and he kept looking at Kurt’s face as they tried to give him blood, kept waiting for him to flicker back to life.

It didn’t happen.

~

Blaine was still blank in the hospital.

He stared out of the window at the neat line of trees, covered in delicate blossom. A butterfly fluttered past. He wanted to squash it.

He sat outside the room full of people in scrubs and white coats, listening to the familiar beeping patterns, wishing he didn’t know what they meant. They should have been faster. He thought for a second they should have been louder, but he knew it was stupid. He didn’t want to hear a machine at all. He wanted to hear Kurt’s heart, beating loud and strong right next to his hear. He wanted to see pink in his cheeks and a smile on his face that wasn’t weak and strained. He flinched when the door next to him opened. A woman came out, round and rosy-cheeked.

“He’s stable. We’ll need to keep him for a few days, until we can get him back to normal, but you should be able to take him home by the end of the week.”

Blaine let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“Can I-?”

She nodded, holding the door open for him. He wandered in hesitantly, stepping aside to let the other members of staff out. They gave him small smiles of encouragement. He didn’t work with them, but they all knew who he was. He barely registered their presence. As soon as they were gone, leaving him alone with Kurt, he made his way slowly towards the bed. His eyes started to sting as he got closer, as the details of Kurt’s traumatised framed came into focus. His skin was like paper, his bones jutting out awkwardly, his face perfectly still. His lips were dry and cracked. Blaine stared at his chest, rising and falling. He was alive. He was still there. That was all he had to cling onto, and he wanted to dig his fingers in and never let go.

Blaine sat on the bed, closing his eyes as the mattress groaned under him. His hand found Kurt’s and squeezed. He looked at him again, so frail and thin and weak. So not Kurt. His eyes were burning now, and his cheeks were already wet. His chest started to heave. He sucked in one short, sharp breath after another, none of them enough. He pulled Kurt’s hand up and laid it over his chest.

“I’m here, Kurt. I’m right here.”

He sniffed and let out a sob, the first one since he’d found out Kurt was sick again, and they wouldn’t stop coming. He lay on the bed next to Kurt, curling around him, resting his head on his chest so he could feel the weak pulse by his ear. His fingers gripped onto the blankets between them, squeezing them the way he wanted to squeeze Kurt but was afraid to. His throat tightened as he cried into the thin fabric of Kurt’s hospital gown, trying to find his smell somewhere. It was masked with antiseptic, with that sickly hospital scent. He buried his face in his chest anyway, crying until his throat was sore, until the sobs turned into screams.

He’d held on for the phone calls, for the kids, for the paramedics, for Kurt, and now there was nobody to hide it from. He broke down and poured every bit of anger and heartbreak from the last five months into the synthetic fabric as it scratched his jaw.

The doctor who’d let him in had left her coat in the room. She laid a hand on the door, ready to go back in and fetch it, when she looked through the square pattern in the glass. She saw Blaine wrapped around Kurt’s torso, rocking into him, his eyes squeezed shut as he cried out the way he couldn’t before. She pursed her lips and walked away.

Blaine felt a hand on his back. It stroked its way up into his hair and massaged his head gently.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt whispered, but Blaine didn’t even look up. He may have been awake, but that didn’t mean it was over. He started to think it might never be over.

They kept rocking together from side to side until Blaine finally fell asleep.

Before he dozed off, Kurt only had time for one thought.

Why am I putting him through this?

~

Kurt was sitting up, with Blaine sitting cross-legged opposite him at the other end of the bed, when Rachel brought the kids in. Sophie was grinning as usual, pottering along as Rachel held her hand, but Alex had his hands in his pockets. He still looked scared. He stared at the floor, trying hard not to look up at either of his fathers. Kurt beamed the second they walked through the door.

“Hey strangers!” He saw Alex and ducked his head to try and make eye contact with him. “You okay, honey?”

He mumbled that he was fine, still looking down and wrinkling his nose to push his glasses up. Kurt and Blaine glanced at each other, knowing they should have expected him to be upset, but clueless as to how they were supposed to handle it.

Blaine jumped off the bed and swept Sophie into his arms, making her giggle uncontrollably, shouting ‘Daddy! Daddy!’ and nuzzling up to him. He sat her in his lap and Kurt grinned at her, taking her hands and pretending to eat her fingers until she squealed and kicked her feet. Alex watched them but was careful to keep his eyes on Sophie. He’d promised to look after her. He felt Blaine looking at him and finally allowed eye contact.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Talk to me.”

Alex sniffed.

“I don’t want Daddy to die.”

Their mouths all fell open apart from Sophie, who was sucking her thumb furiously. Rachel glanced at Kurt and nodded towards the girl on the bed, eyebrows raised. Kurt nodded. She scooped her up, bounding her on her hip.

“Why don’t we go get you a drink, cutie? We’ll give you boys a minute. You look great, Kurt.”

Kurt smiled at her as she left, before returning his attention to Alex. There was more fear and sadness in his face than Kurt had seen in any adult apart from Blaine. He started to wonder if the little boy who had helped him destroy a pillow wall three years ago would ever come back. No seven-year-old should look this broken.

“Baby, who told you I was-” his voice cracked, and he swallowed and tried again. “Who told you that?”

Alex shuffled his feet, keeping his hands planted firmly in his pockets.

“I know you’ve got cancer. People die from cancer.” His face scrunched up and Blaine slid off the bed again to kneel down and wrap an arm around his shoulders. “I- I don’t want Daddy to die.”

“Alex, Daddy’s not going-”

“Blaine.”

“No, Kurt-”

“Honey, you’re right. I am sick. I know you’re smart, okay, and I’m not going to lie to you. You don’t lie to people you love. Come here.”

Alex tried to climb onto the bed, and when he couldn’t quite reach Blaine lifted him up and placed him on Kurt’s lap. Kurt pulled him close and brushed his floppy hair out of his eyes.

“Alex, you know I’ve been in hospital a lot lately?” Alex nodded. “Well, that’s because I’m having a lot of medicine to try and make me better.”

“But that’s not why you’re here now. You’re here because you were bleeding.”

Alex started to tremble as images of Kurt on the floor, soaked in blood, flashed into his mind. Kurt tightened his grip on the fragile boy’s waist.

“That’s right; that’s because the treatment changes my blood. It makes it thin, so when I cut myself by accident, too much came out. That’s why I went to sleep.”

“You weren’t asleep. Dad couldn’t wake you up.”

Blaine took Alex’s hand.

“But he’s awake now, sweetheart, look-”

“But what if you don’t wake up next time?” Alex’s voice was so quiet and broken they almost didn’t hear him. “Daddy, are you going to die?”

Kurt glanced at Blaine. He was as tearful as Alex. They’d promised to keep the kids away from cancer-related things as much as possible, but they couldn’t lie to such a direct question, even when it meant saying something they’d been putting off. Kurt took a deep breath.

“Maybe.” His voice caught in his throat, but he cleared it and carried on. “You remember when I got sick before Sophie was born?” He nodded, a tear rolling down his cheek. Kurt wiped it away with his thumb. “Well, this time it’s a lot worse. We’re trying really hard, and the doctors are giving me a lot of different treatments to make it go away, but I might not get better.”

Blaine was silent. He took Alex’s hand in his, stroking the tiny fingers with his thumb. It was easy to forget just how young he was, especially when he was so serious all the time. He hadn’t been like that before.

“So you- you might-”

Kurt nodded.

“I’m trying not to. I don’t want to leave you, but you know there are lots of people who love you. They’ll look after you and Sophie and Dad. You’ve got your grandparents, and Uncle Finn and Uncle Coop, and Rachel and Santana-”

“No, Daddy,” he shook his head, blinking rapidly which only pushed the tears out faster, “we don’t want them; we want you. Why can’t we just keep you?”

“I don’t know, baby. I don’t know why I’m sick, but I know I’m going to keep trying to stay here for you,” he pulled Alex close again, tucking his head under his chin and kissing his hair, “for all of you.” He glanced at Blaine, who nodded silently, his cheeks wet. “Honey, you need to know that no matter what, I’m still going to love you. Some stupid illness won’t stop that. I’ll love you forever, you and your sister and your dad, always.”

He closed his eyes and held onto Alex as he shook spasmodically against him, curled into a ball. He kept rocking him and whispering, but he knew he couldn’t make it better.

~

Rachel had pinned a card to the front door.

‘Call me when you want them. I’ll the resist the temptation to keep them forever. Love you. R x’

They both took a deep breath before walking inside, huddling under the sweaters Rachel had brought them. It was April, but it was still cold, and they both needed all the layers they could get. Kurt shielded his eyes against the sun; it was bright and bare. He held onto Blaine’s arm. He needed the support, but he just didn’t want to let him go. Blaine tugged the woolly hat further over his head, kissing his temple.

“Come on; let’s get some coffee.”

“After three? You’re spoiling me.”

“Well, you’ve had plenty of sleep. It can’t hurt.”

It was getting to the point where Kurt could do pretty much whatever he wanted. You don’t deny a dying man anything.

~

“Blaine, please, can’t we just go home? I feel awful; I’m not in the mood for some big surprise. Can we do it another day?”

His voice was a whisper. He’d spent the morning having more tests done to check his progress in the trial. He’d been sleeping most of the afternoon, but Blaine had already arranged for Burt to keep the kids an extra night. He dragged Kurt out of bed, got him dressed up, and was now leading him through Central Park, to a secluded patch, outlined by lanterns and filled with hushed whispers and laughter. Kurt squeezed Blaine’s hand and he squeezed back.

“I’m afraid not. This is a one night only experience. You’re supposed to die today, remember? Six months and you’re still here. We have to celebrate. I promise you’ll like it. It’ll make you feel better.”

Kurt could tell he was in the park; he knew the smells, the sounds, but something felt different. It wasn’t just him and Blaine. He reached for the silk scarf tied over his eyes (Blaine made sure it was co-ordinated with the one over his head) but Blaine pulled his hand back down.

“Not yet. You need the full experience.” His tone changed suddenly into an agitated whisper. “Will you sit down?”

Kurt’s head snapped around.

“What? Me? Blaine, what’s going on?”

Blaine sighed. It was never going to be perfect with this lot.

“Okay, one second-”

Before he could even get the blindfold off, Kurt was being ambushed with hugs and kisses and cheers - nobody treating him like some fragile doll, nobody talking to him like an idiot, nobody treating him like a sick person. Before he could even see anyone, he knew who it was; he could feel them. And he’d have recognised Mercedes’ laugh anywhere.

He was finally freed, and he stepped back to see the members of New Directions that could make it; Mercedes, Sam, Tina, Rachel, Mike, Puck, Finn, Santana and Brittany, Artie, Quinn, all beaming at him, standing in front of the biggest picnic he’d ever seen. There were twenty different coloured blankets surrounding a pile of food and drink – champagne, fruit, a mountain of brownies, a cooler full of beer, cakes, sandwiches, salads – almost enough to make him feel faint if it hadn’t been for Blaine’s hands around his waist.

“What the- how did you- what are you all doing here?”

Everyone grinned at Blaine, who blushed and grinned sheepishly.

Kurt let out a single, breathless laugh.

“Blaine, you didn’t!”

“I might have.”

“Kurt,” Puck cut in, “you can see him any time you want. The Nude Erections are here on a one night engagement. Now get your ass on a blanket and make the most of us."

It took all of five seconds to get back to the way they’d been in high school – well, towards the end of it. No dumpster-tossing, no slushies, just endless hugs and laughing and stories about Mr Schue and how looking back on it he was pretty inappropriate but he meant well and ‘I can’t believe I’m sitting here with the Mercedes Jones!’ followed by a smug ‘me neither’ from Sam as he stroked her hair and kissed her cheek. Blaine watched quietly as Brittany rested her head on Santana’s stomach and Santana stroked her bump, Mike and Tina exchanged smiles, having stayed close despite their break-up, Puck was still a badass without his Mohawk; Rachel was unable to do something as simple as raise a toast without her voice sounding like it belonged onstage. He barely listened as they discussed what they’d been up to, where they all were in their lives; he was just happy they were there now. He hadn’t doubted everyone would come, under the circumstances, but the way they were all smiling at Kurt and the light, carefree way Kurt was laughing with them made it hard to concentrate on what anyone say saying.

“Tell him, Artie,” Mike was chanting, “Tell him a glass can’t hurt.”

Artie grinned.

“It’s fine, Kurt. It won’t do any harm. The stuff you’ve got in your system, a glass of champagne is nothing.”

Kurt paused, drink in hand, looking at the circle of friends around him. He took a deep breath, looking at the glass, before knocking it back in one. Everyone cheered. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back until it was resting on Blaine’s shoulder.

“Oh, shit. It’s been too long. Wow. Gimme a brownie. I’m actually hungry for once; can’t let it go to waste.”

He plucked a brownie from the top of the heap, and was about to take a bite when he noticed everyone staring at him. They were all suppressing sniggers. Rachel was failing.

“What? Am I missing something?”

Quinn smirked.

“Oh, yeah. You’re missing out on a really good brownie. Try it.”

Kurt glared at her.

“No.”

Everyone joined in with cries of ‘what’ and ‘you can trust us’.

“You didn’t.”

“Kurt, what are you scared of? Doesn’t it look delicious?” Santana licked her lips at him.

“I’m sick, Tana, I’m not stupid. These are pot brownies, aren’t they?”

Everyone burst out laughing.

“Come on,” Puck mumbled through a mouthful of pasta, “it’s not like you’ve never done it before. It’s my best recipe.”

Kurt rolled his eyes.

“I should have known it’d be your idea.”

They all laughed again and looked at Blaine. Kurt stared at him in disbelief.

“Blaine! You’re a doctor!”

Blaine shrugged.

“People prescribe it all the time; it’s no big deal.”

“You’re a paediatrician! Oh, God, please tell me you don’t give this stuff to kids-”

“Not unless they ask nicely. Look, I promise it’ll be fine. Please, babe, for me. You’re adorable when you’re high.”

Kurt frowned at Blaine. He glanced nervously at Artie.

“It can actually help, Kurt. A lot of people do it during chemo, to boost their appetite, stop them feeling sick – I won’t tell on you.”

“I’m thirty-five.”

“Me too,” Quinn giggled, picking up a brownie and demolishing half of it in one bite. “I’m only going to get older from here on in.”

Rachel grinned at her.

“She’s got a point.”

One by one, everyone reached for a brownie apart from Brittany, who nudged Santana until she took two (“do it for both of us, honey”) and held them up as if they were making another toast.

Finn cleared his throat.

“Here’s to Kurt. For not being dead yet.”

Every eye was glistening, but they all swallowed and blinked so they could keep smiling at Kurt. He frowned at the cake in his hand, and Santana groaned and snatched the scarf off his head. He sucked in a breath as the breeze stroked the layer of stubble that had finally formed over the last couple of weeks.

“Kurt, what else is there to be scared of? It’s not like you can get any sicker.”

Kurt smiled at Santana, then back at Blaine. He shrugged, rolled his eyes and took a bite. And another. And another. It was gone in seconds, and the achievement was met by a loud cheer.

“Fuck me,” he muttered, his mouth still full, “these are amazing. More.”

An hour later, everyone was giggling and lounging on the grass. Santana was tracing circles across Brittany’s swollen belly, marvelling at the miracle of life. Tina was twirling a daisy between her fingers, pointing out the differences between the petals to Mike, who seemed to find everything she said hilarious. Rachel and Quinn were giggling at nothing, trying to copy the movements of the trees. Sitting down, they swayed from side to side, their arms in the air and their eyes closed. Finn was stroking Puck’s head, telling him to grow the Mohawk back as he stared intensely at the stubble. Sam and Mercedes were quickly eating their way through the rest of the picnic.

Blaine was sitting cross-legged with Kurt’s head in his lap, stroking his head as they both gazed at the sky.

“Oh man, I’m way too old for this-” Noah laughed as Finn caressed his head much like Blaine was caressing Kurt’s.

“Shh, shush, Noah, s’fine. S’lovely. Look at the sky; look at all the stars…”

Everyone laughed. It had been a while since any of them had indulged like this, and Kurt’s tolerance had never been high, but he seemed more susceptible to it than usual now that the treatment had knocked him out. Blaine was right; it was adorable. He gave his hand a squeeze, and smiled when he felt him squeeze back.

“There are so many patterns, and they’re all so pretty, like big faces. Not scary faces. Happy faces. They’re going to look after us.”

“Kurt,” Rachel stage-whispered, “You’re hi-i-i-igh!”

He lifted his head up for a second then cackled and fell back against Blaine, wheezing and spluttering. His eyes were red, as were everyone else’s, and his mouth was stretched into a wide, chocolaty smile.

“Well, at least you and Blaine aren’t drunk together, because we all know what happens-”

It had become his go-to response whenever one of them made fun of him, which was frequently. Rachel stood up in indignation.

“That’s it. Kurt. Anderson. Hummel. Come here.”

“Hmm?”

“You can’t use that against poor Blainey anymore.”

“I’ve been using against you too-”

“Not important. Get up.”

“Can’t. Cancer. Sleepy.”

He pulled the blanket Blaine had draped over him up to his chin.

“Okay, fine, I’ll come to you, but we’re settling this.”

“Somebody make her stop talking; why is she so-”

Before he could even finish complaining, she’d planted a huge kiss on his lips. His hands flew up, almost hitting Blaine in the face, and the group gave yet another obnoxious howl, some whooping, some cheering, all laughing helplessly. She gripped onto Kurt’s face, smooching for all she was worth. She’d been holding onto this for almost twenty years. Blaine couldn’t stop giggling.

She finally let go, dropping him back into Blaine’s lap. She smacked her lips noisily.

“Huh.”

“Can we get a review, Miss Berry?” Quinn held up an imaginary microphone, and Rachel, ever the performer, addressed her sniggering yet attentive audience of twelve with her arms outstretched.

“I can officially declare, as the only one who has made out with them both, that stoned Kurt is a better kisser than drunk Blaine. You may finally achieve restful slumber tonight with that knowledge inside your brains. Actually-”

She leaned towards him to try for another kiss, but Kurt hid his face and laughed, his head sliding down to rest on Blaine’s thigh. He reached up to stroke his own head.

“And that’s with almost nothing to grab onto.”

Blaine joined his hands with Kurt’s, one on his head and the other on his stomach. He lifted his head up to kiss the baby-soft beginnings of his new eyebrows.

“I still think you look so beautiful…” he whispered, loudly enough for everyone in the circle to hear, and they all groaned, but kept smiling. Even now, after all this time and all they’d been through, Blaine was still so stupidly in love that in his mind every conversation was about how beautiful Kurt was. He’d probably always be that lovesick teenager, and Kurt would always be the boy he was so very in love with.

There was a loud sniff.

“Oh my God, Puck, you can’t be serious. Haven’t we all seen enough of this?” Tina laughed, throwing a strawberry at him and missing by three feet. “You can’t keep it together for one night just because they’re here?”

“Shut up. I’m fine.”

“Puck-” Quinn laid a hand on his arm. His voice cracked.

“Well, of course I‘m not fine! Look at them! They’re just so happy and cute and I’m still just so happy for them and now they’ve got babies and they’re married and they’re going to be together forever and ever-”

“Jesus, Puckerman,” Santana cackled, “didn’t you cry enough at the wedding?”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry I ruined it for you-”

“It doesn’t matter…” Kurt drifted in and out of the conversation as he stared up into Blaine’s eyes, both of them mouthing ‘love you’ to each other.

“It does matter! It was your wedding, and it was all so nice, then I had to go and be the worst reverend ever-”

“I think you already shot that horse in the face with the whole Jewish thing-”

“Bite me, Chang. I learnt how to use the internet just so I could get ordained, because I love you guys, and- if I could do it over, I would.”

Blaine finally tore his gaze away from Kurt, his pink eyes wide open.

“We could.”

Kurt smiled. Puck was confused.

“Huh?”

“Let’s do it again. Marry us again. Now.”

Kurt nodded vigorously in Blaine’s lap. He pulled his face down for a kiss.

“Yes. Yes, please. Now.”

Blaine beamed and everyone clambered up to help them get to their feet.

After some confused shuffling and Rachel almost falling on her face before Quinn caught her, they formed an audience. Puck, Kurt and Blaine, and everyone else looking on misty-eyed. Not unlike their first wedding.

“We are gathered here today, because, uh, Kurt’s not dead. Which is good. And he looks hot with no hair. And, uh,” he paused. “Guys,” he whispered, “what do I say?”

Blaine pulled Kurt close, his hand on the small of his back. Kurt needed help standing up for long periods of time, and if their hips locked while he supported him, no harm done. He rested his forehead against Kurt’s with a dopey grin on his face.

“Talk about love. Talk about how love can beat anything.”

Kurt joined in.

“Talk about how when you’ve got somebody looking after you, making you happy, somebody there to hold your hand and fight alongside you, as long as you’ve got that, you can do anything-”

“And how sometimes people don’t even need that, but that makes you want to give it to them more-”

“Talk about his butt.”

“Talk about his cheekbones.”

“Talk about his smile-”

“Talk about his hips-”

“The way your mouth-”

“The way your arms-”

Puck realised, with a nod of encouragement from Quinn, that he had to say something before they started consummating their new marriage on the spot.

“Right, right, um, dearly beloved, we are gathered here because Blaine loves Kurt and Kurt loves Blaine and, well, we love both of you.”

Rachel rested her head on Quinn’s shoulder. Everyone nodded. Sam yawned.

“And the way you guys keep smiling at each other, it just- if somebody looks at me like that I’ll marry them straight up, I don’t care if it’s a dude, I will seal that deal, because it’s just, I mean, if you felt that way about anybody, would it matter? You know, actually, I think I could like guys if it could be like you.”

Brittany tilted her head in confusion.

“I mean, the thing between you, the smiling and the- I don’t mean actual guys like you. Although, Kurt, your ass is like… but Blaine, your eyes are so sparkly…”

“Noah!” Rachel yelled with a laugh, “Let them kiss!”

Puck flinched and stopped gazing lovingly at the couple in front of him, even though they were too busy gazing at each other to notice.

“Wow, okay, you love each other, and you can do anything, and you’re still married, so- make out or something!”

They didn’t need telling twice.

Everyone who could see them joined in with the group’s applause.

After lots of shambolic sing-alongs and tearful goodbyes and a cab ride three blocks home, they crashed through the front door, pulling at each other’s clothing and kissing furiously like they had when they were teenagers. Neither one could stop smiling.

“Love you,” Blaine grinned into Kurt’s mouth, “so much.”

Kurt nodded, sucking on Blaine’s lower lip clumsily and pushing him against a wall. He kept muttering to him between pecks to his cheeks, his jaw, and his neck.

“We’re married.”

“Still.”

“Blaine.”

“Mmmh?”

“It’s our wedding night.”

He pulled back for a second, hesitant.

“You know you don’t have to-”

Kurt shut him up with another kiss.

“Get your ass upstairs,” he growled.

Blaine groaned and threw his arms around Kurt’s neck, stroking his head as he kissed him, thrusting his tongue into his mouth, dropping all effort at romance. It had been months, not just since they’d had sex, but since they’d been all over each other like this, kissing messily and hastily and wanting everything at once.

Kurt held Blaine’s face as he kissed him, holding him back so he could slip his arms down to take his hands and lead him upstairs, their lips barely parting as they stumbled their way towards the bedroom. They collapsed onto the bed, still giggling, still kissing, running their hands across each other’s skin, rediscovering every curve and swell of their bodies. Blaine’s hips jerked spasmodically against Kurt’s and they both moaned, grinding into each other. Blaine pulled back. As much as he loved rutting against Kurt mindlessly until they were gasping, he wanted Kurt to have something better than that now. If they were going to do this, they were going to do it properly.

Kurt frowned at him in confusion, still panting. Blaine sank back down to kiss him slowly, sliding over to his jaw and running his tongue across to his ear, sucking gently beneath it. Kurt gasped and pulled at Blaine’s clothes, tugging his shirt over his head and dropping it on the floor. Blaine slid his arm under Kurt, laying him further up on the bed and settling between his legs. It was scary how light he was, how pronounced his vertebrae and shoulder blades were, but Blaine kept kissing him, moving down his torso, kissing the fabric of his thick sweater before slipping a hand under it, peeling it off and stroking his stomach. They were both fumbling blindly with their jeans and kicking their shoes off despite the quivers running through them as they heated up after hours out in the cool summer air.

More and more skin was revealed, and soon enough their naked bodies were pressed together, their legs tangled, Blaine kissing all over Kurt’s chest. He hovered over him, cradling his head in one hand.

“Kurt,” he whispered, struggling for breath but needing to say it, “you’re so beautiful-”

Kurt shook his head quickly.

“No, you don’t have to-”

“I want to. You have to know. I think- I think you keep shrugging it off because you don’t believe it, but you are, okay?”

Kurt’s breath hitched in his throat and his eyes started to prickle. He shook his head almost imperceptibly, and Blaine kissed him again.

“I just want you to see what I see, Kurt.” He reached up to trace his lips over Kurt’s head, pecking at the bumps on his scalp. “This isn’t where your hair’s missing. This is where you took control. This is where you chose how your hair went, and made sure you had accessories that would make you look gorgeous without it.” He moved down his forehead, kissing his eyebrows. “This is what means I get to hold water back from your eyes to stop it hurting you. This is one of the only ways I can protect you.”

He traced his way down Kurt’s cheeks with his fingers, kissing every inch as he passed it.

“This,” he muttered as he reached Kurt’s mouth, “This smiles at me even when you feel like hell, and it’s told me it loves me every day for eighteen years.” He kissed him again, slow and deep, laying his hand on the back of his head to pull him as close as possible. Kurt gripped onto Blaine’s waist, his fingers no longer trembling. Blaine’s knees between his, his hands on his head and his back, they grounded him. He felt as if he was on the very edge of existence, but Blaine was holding him, keeping him from falling.

“I’m not romanticising it, Kurt. Not a second. I remember your gums bleeding when you brushed your teeth too hard, and you scalding yourself because you couldn’t feel how hot the water was, and the mood swings, and the throwing up because you didn’t want to sleep without me, and the crying; I’m not wiping out the gross bits, I swear. I know you’re not some angelic victim, Kurt. You’ve fought and struggled and it’s sucked but I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud that you’re mine. I- I love you so much, and I’m so glad you’re still- I-”

Kurt kissed him softly, his lips quaking. He mouthed ‘thank you’, breathing it against Blaine’s skin over and over, gasping as Blaine moved down to kiss his shoulder, chest and stomach. He savoured the sight of Kurt’s muscles fluttering under his lips as his head pushed back into the mattress, his whole body twitching as Blaine wrapped a hand around him, rolling up and down in a deliberate, practised motion. He tried to cry out, but no sound came, and he twisted his fingers into Blaine’s hair while his other hand fisted into the sheets underneath him.

Blaine ran his tongue neatly up the underside of Kurt’s cock before taking him completely in his mouth and down his throat. It was almost too much after such a long time, but he let his muscles take over as they remembered how to cope. Kurt’s eyes rolled back in his head as all he could feel was the heat of Blaine swallowing around him. His hips bucked upwards, making Blaine flinch slightly, but he pulled back and laughed a little, sending a humming vibration right through him.

“Oh, Blaine, please-”

He pulled on his hair, grabbing blindly at his shoulder to drag him back up until they were face to face. Blaine’s mouth was replaced by his hand, and he slid his own cock between them until they were rutting against each other again.

“Are you-”

Kurt nodded, gasping into Blaine’s mouth.

“Just- need you here- don’t go-”

Blaine kissed him again, assuring him that he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d be there are long as Kurt wanted him, as long as both of their hearts were beating, and long after. He kept stroking them both together, his breaths sharp and shallow as he felt Kurt’s fingers gripping on his waist. Their chests were slick with sweat and they kept losing their rhythm but neither of them cared. They absorbed the friction and the moans and the kisses, until they were writhing in a heap, both crying, both whispering ‘love you’ and ‘need you’ and ‘can’t’, until their bodies stiffened, frozen together, shuddering. They moaned each other’s names over and over and came with a splash over their stomachs but didn’t let go. Blaine kept working his hand over them both until they were hissing with sensitivity, kissing Kurt again and again all over his face, his chest, his shoulders, while Kurt melted into the mattress, exhausted and dizzy and breathless.

Blaine still hovered over Kurt as he came down, leaning on his elbow and holding Kurt’s hand, sucking languidly on his neck as his head fell on his shoulder. Kurt twisted around to meet Blaine’s lips with his own, kissing him softly and calmly. Blaine lifted his head up for a second.

“Should I- am I too heavy? I don’t want to-”

Kurt shook his head, and Blaine relaxed on top of him again, relieved. He loved feeling Blaine’s weight on top of him, pinning him to the bed, real and solid. He shifted down, resting his head on Kurt’s chest, running his fingertips up and down his torso. Kurt squirmed when it tickled, and Blaine laughed and kissed the skin to soothe it. Kurt reached up to bury his nose in Blaine’s hair, breathing in deeply. He squeezed his eyes closed as a tear rolled down his cheek. It didn’t make him feel sick anymore. It made him feel safe and happy, just like it used to. He kissed him and let his head fall back, laying his hand on top of Blaine’s over his heartbeat.

~

Nobody was entirely sure what day it was. Stripes of sunlight streaked the bedroom and there was a faint sound of birdsong drifting in through the open window. Kurt and Blaine were sitting in bed, eating breakfast with Alex in between them and Sophie on Kurt’s lap, talking about everything and nothing as they sipped orange juice and ate pancakes, feeding the kids and each other grapes and mouthfuls of chocolate croissant. As usual, Blaine had bought far more food than they needed, but they ignored the crumbs on the bed and the chocolate all around Sophie’s mouth. They knew they may not have many lazy mornings left together, but they had this one. It was wonderful.

Kurt groaned when his phone vibrated next to him. Whoever was interrupting better have a good reason.

“Kurt?”

He almost spat out the coffee in his mouth when he recognised the voice.

“Artie, hi,” he glanced at Blaine, pulling at the sleeve of his t-shirt. He froze. “I guess this isn’t a social call?”

“Nope. I’ve got some news. Can you come in?”

“Can’t you tell me now?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain, but, Kurt… it’s good. We’ve got good news. It’s about the trial- kind of. Please, can you just come in?”

“After we’ve finished breakfast. Twelve?”

“Kurt, this is important-”

“So is this. We’ll see you later.”

Kurt hung up and Blaine looked at him expectantly. He went back to his breakfast, dabbing his finger into the flakes of pastry on his plate and licking them off.

“Well?”

“What?”

“Kurt!”

“Oh, that. Apparently there’s, uh, good news or something, but I’m not done eating yet. We’re going in when we’re finished here.”

~

Blaine was practically vibrating.

“Artie, if you don’t tell us what the hell is going on-”

“I got a call from Blackwell Pharmaceuticals this morning. You’re out of the study.”

Their faces fell.

“What? Why? He can’t- they can’t do that, can they?”

“No, Blaine, it’s- it’s because he doesn’t qualify for it anymore-”

“That’s bullshit. He’s done everything he was supposed to do-”

“Blaine, will you shut up for a second? You can’t be in a trial for a cancer drug if you don’t have cancer anymore.”

Blaine shut up. Everyone shut up. Artie was grinning. Kurt was shaking his head.

“I don’t get it… it’s… gone?”

“Well, you’re not totally out the woods, but it looks like you will be. I mean, you’ll need a few more months to recover, but, Kurt, you’re in remission. Partial, at least. You’re going to get better.”

They stared at Artie open-mouthed. The room was silent except for Sophie humming as she sucked her thumb. Alex, who was sitting on Blaine’s knee, looked back at his parents, confused.

“Dad? Didn’t you hear? Daddy’s going to get better!”

Blaine blinked, swallowed and wet his lips. He finally looked at Alex, shaking his head.

“Daddy?”

Alex picked up Kurt’s hand and squeezed it.

“But- why am I out of the study?”

“Right, I mean if it’s working, shouldn’t they be taking a look at him? Running more tests?”

Artie took a deep breath.

“Well, that’s the thing. The drug had nothing to do with it. You never even had it.”

“Of course I had it, how else-”

“No, Kurt, you were on the placebo. I mean, we gave you a lot of other treatments and they might have helped, but- they shouldn’t have-”

“Artie, this doesn’t make any sense. He- that wasn’t enough. I know what you were giving him; I know how far it had- this can’t be right. You need to check again.”

“Blaine, we’ve checked and double-checked everything. It’s going. We still don’t know why it’s going, exactly, but do you really want to question it? You were right, Blaine. Kurt can do anything. Maybe this time you’ll come back when I tell you to, so we can keep an eye on you, but this is good. You did it. You won.”

Kurt gripped Blaine’s wrist. He finally let himself look at Alex’s hopeful face, smiling back at him as he tried to catch his breath. He felt Blaine’s hand over his and looked over at him. He was beaming, and his eyes were glistening, and Kurt had to blink rapidly just so he could see him through his tears. Suddenly, Alex had leapt onto him, almost knocking Sophie off his knee, and Blaine was standing up to wrap his arms around all three of them, squeezing them together. Kurt felt a tear soak through the material covering his head.

~

After hugging Artie and thanking him over and over and crying and hugging some more, the four of them stumbled out of the hospital. Blaine had taken Sophie and Kurt was carrying Alex with one hand, keeping the other free to hold Blaine’s, squeezing for all he was worth. Alex was clinging onto him so tightly he probably didn’t need to hold him at all, but he kept a firm hand on his back, refusing to let go.

Kurt froze as they opened the door and a wave of fresh summer air washed over him. Blaine was jerked back as the hand he was holding didn’t follow him. He spun around to Kurt, gripping onto the little boy in his arms, shaking and breathing heavily.

“Kurt?” He didn’t get a response. He tugged his hand free and cupped his face, giving Alex a nod to tell him to slip to the ground. “Kurt, honey, can you hear me?”

“It’s over. That’s it; it’s over. I-”

Blaine ducked his head to catch his eye.

“Kurt, this is good. You’re better. You’re okay.”

He held the hand that was stroking a thumb across his face.

“Blaine, I- what now? I don’t- I’ve been- I don’t know what to do.”

He’d spent the last six months being ill. He’d almost forgotten how to function normally. Blaine grinned at him.

“Whatever you want, baby; whatever you want. We can go away- let’s go to London.”

Kurt smiled back.

“As long as you don’t forget our passports.” Blaine laughed. “I think right now I just need to go home.”

Blaine grabbed him and pulled him close. Sophie giggled as she was squashed between then, and Alex beamed as he wrapped his arms around their hips.

“Home first. And Kurt?” Kurt pulled back to look into Blaine’s eyes.

“Yes?”

“It’s not over, okay? Not by a long shot. It’s just beginning.”

Kurt beamed and kissed him.