A heartbeat - dull, weak, barely there. He can feel it pulsing defiantly beneath his palm as he holds the love of his life for what he suspects is the last time.

He’s so frail and fragile, not at all like he was when they first met. But, though it’s hard to explain, it’s like Blaine has become even more beautiful to him. His smile has never died, even through the worst of times. There are moments, though he has been too weak to speak for several weeks now, where Kurt still catches glimpses of the endearingly optimistic glint that used to make his eyes sparkle when they were younger.

They both know it’s going to be over soon; neither of them believe in miracles. They’ve done all they possibly could. Some things are just stronger. Some things just can’t be overcome. The key, they decided was to accept the inevitable and prepare each other for it.

He and Blaine have done their best to prepare their children for it, even though the concept seems to be beyond them. His dad and Carole are looking after them at home. They’re probably fast asleep in their beds wondering when their daddy will be back and if he’s bringing their papa home this time.

All the legal matters have been settled, all the family and friends have been informed of the situation and thus know to have means of getting to New York ready. He knows exactly how Blaine wants to be remembered. Everything is ready.

Now it’s just the waiting. The silence permeated only by the rhythmic beeping of the heart-rate monitor next to Blaine’s bed. The not knowing when or what comes after. The fear. The ache that seems too much for him to take. Knowing that he has to carry on after Blaine goes.

He feels Blaine’s hand tighten around his own slightly - too weak to be called a squeeze, but reassuring nonetheless. He laughs bitterly at this. Imagine Blaine being the one comforting him.

There’s so much that still needs to be said - so much that they were still going to do. So much life that won’t be lived together.

All they have is now.

“I love you, Blaine,” he says, unable to stand the silence anymore, his voice surprisingly steady. “I love you so much. And I know that f you had the strength you’d be telling me the same.”

He takes a breath before launching into his next sentence. This seems to be the thing to break him.

“The kids are going to miss you so much,” he says, pausing again to compose himself. He needs Blaine to hear this. “I know because I went through the same thing. They’re going to miss you every day of their lives. They’re going to wish they could have shared every single experience of their lives with you. They’re going to wish you were there when life is hard. But they’re going to do amazingly well. They’re going to soar to heights we could never imagine. And through all of this they’re going to love you forever.”

Blaine’s hand stays gripped around his as tight as it can. He finds strength to continue.

“You’ve changed so many lives, Blaine. You’ve touched so many hearts. You’ve reached people who seemed unreachable. You’ve done so much in your life. But most of all you saved me, Blaine. You broke into my life like no one else could. You taught me the definition of strong. You taught me that beauty has absolutely nothing to do with anything on the outside. That the most beautiful people are the most graceful through adversity. Blaine, you’re my hero. You’re the father of my children. You’re my high school sweetheart. You’re my husband. You’re the love of my life and I’ve said it before and if this is the last chance I’ll ever get to say it, I’ll say it again: I’m never saying goodbye to you.”

Kurt finally allows tears to stream down his face and splash onto the shoulder of Blaine’s thin hospital grown. He feels Blaine’s fingers tighten slightly around his hands one last time before they fall limply to his side. He no longer feels the small, broken beat that meant the world to him.

Blaine is gone.

He holds him close to himself for a few more moments, heavy sobs wracking his body, feeling as though his heart has been ripped out of his chest and all the color has been stolen from the world.

“I’ll never stop loving you,” he whispers one last time before gently laying Blaine’s horrifyingly lightweight body down on his bed and running off to find a nurse.

Kurt, for the first time since his junior year in high school, feels completely and hopelessly alone.