AN: I should warn you that this is going to be a bit heavy. Also, I'm not sure how regular updates are going to be, but I'm really going to try for once a week.

Thanks to anyone who reads this! 3

"Hi, I'm Kurt."

There it is. The sentence that started it all. This one phrase, just three syllables, set the ball in motion.

"Blaine."

It all started in the Oncology ward of the hospital. Two boys, there for two very different reasons, that just so happened to choose plastic chairs next to each other.

"Who are you visiting?" asked the shorter one with the gelled, spiraling, dark brown hair.

"I'm actually a patient." The smaller, pixie-like, boy stared into nothing, trying to keep and air of confidence in his voice. "Tumor in my stomach. I'm going to have a full recovery of course. At least that's what the doctors say."

Blaine could tell by Kurt wasn't exactly as sure as he tried to seem, but ignored it. "Oh. I'm so sorry. It must be hard for you... I'm just here to see my grandmother. I barely even know her." He said meekly.

It's strange, the feeling of guilt that you could get from simply being healthy.

"Must be nice." Kurt reached up, stroking his own hair. "I'm starting chemotherapy today. Can you believe it? All that time spent perfecting my hair, just for it to disappear."

Blaine had never been one to empathize with people. He'd never been able to really care about anyone else's pain, as horrible as that sounds. He figures its some kind of defense mechanism and that, if he was really interested in knowing the cause, a therapist could probably relate it to some traumatic childhood experience relating to his father. The boy in front of him though, this fragile, vulnerable, yet strangely confident boy, somehow manages to tear at the strings knotted together guarding Blaine Anderson from normal

human emotion.

The way Kurt laughs, an empty chuckle that barely disguises the tremors in his voice, causes a sharp stab of something unfamiliar to travel straight to Blaine's heart. Without realizing it Blaine's hand ends up clasping Kurt's. Kurt looks at him with piercing blue eyes, startled, as if he was moments away from jerking away. Instead he relaxed and let his fingers curl around the other boy's.

They hardly knew each other, but it didn't seem to matter. They sat in silence for a while, with Blaine faintly tracing circles over the impossibly soft skin stretched over Kurt's hand.

"Where do you think you go when you die?" Kurt asked abruptly, looking away from him.

Blaine wasn't exactly prepared for this question. Where did you go when it was all over? Was there a palace in the sky built out of marble and gold where pain couldn't touch you, or did it end with your body lowered into the ground, dark, cold, and alone?

"I'm not so sure about the rest of us... but there has to be a special place for you, Kurt."

He wasn't sure why he said it, but then again he wasn't exactly sure why he hadn't politely excused himself moments ago, before it got so... deep. Whatever the reason, he couldn't leave now.

"There are so many things I haven't done."

Blaine peered at the boy next to him and watched helplessly as a single tear slid down his cheek. Kurt's face did not crumple, in fact he continued to stare straight ahead into nothingness, as if he hadn't noticed the sudden dampness on his cheek.

Blaine had no idea what to do. How would he feel, if he were Kurt? They seem to be around the same age, Kurt was probably only 21 or 22. That would mean there's a whole lifetime of living that Kurt would never get to experience. If this didn't work, if the Chemo failed, Kurt would die before most people got the chance to actually live. It wasn't fair.

"Kurt? Do you maybe want to get coffee sometime?"

Kurt gave him a weak smile.

"I'm going to be sick, Blaine. By the end of the week I'll be throwing up constantly and soon i'll be losing my hair. You can't possibly be interested in that. It's a nice gesture, but I really don't want anyone to take pity on me."

"I'm not- I'm not doing this out if pity." Okay, so maybe he was, just a little. "Come on, just once. Tomorrow. You won't be sick by then, will you?"

Kurt took a long look at Blaine, as if he was some sort of intricate math problem he didn't quite understand. Eventually he sighed.

"How about this: I'll give you my number today and tomorrow you can call me. If I'm feeling up to it we can go get coffee, but you're paying."

"Okay!" Blaine's face broke into a grin and Kurt pulled his hand away to rummage through his bag, probably looking for something to write with. He pulled out a pen and a scrap price of paper and scratched down his number handing it to Blaine just before Kurt was called away by a plump, frazzled looking nurse.

"I'll see you," Blaine called as Kurt strode away from him.

Kurt paused and turned, flashing Blaine the most heartbreaking smile.

"Yeah. I'll see you."