Hey everyone :) I hope I'm doing this thing right. This is the first fanfic I've ever posted on here. It's Klaine, obviously. It'll be a mostly future fic once I get into the actual fic, but as this is the prologue I've messed stuff around - as in, there's past and future, but not future as in the time scale the rest of it will be written. I make no sense whatsoever, so just trust me. Reviews and criticism and things would be nice. I'll be quiet now. Enjoy! (Also, ignore any horribly English words in there. I'm English and have tried to use American where I know it but I'm sorry if any British words are in there!)

(also, I felt like I had to explain this but I've named Kurt's mother Karen because my friend and I once said "wouldn't it be nice if Kurt's mum's name begun with a K? So her name and Burt would be like their couple name." So, yeah. Not that it makes any difference at all but I thought I'd just mention that!)

Pretending: Prologue

will we ever have a happy ending
or will we forever only be pretending?

Being eight years old was meant to be fun.

It was meant to be all about muddy clothes and scraped knees. Adventures and bedtime stories and sleepovers. Wanting to be just that little bit older but still being able to love it when your mom holds you tight when you're scared. It's about still believing in Santa Claus and watching Disney classics until the tapes break.

Kurt knew he was different to all the other kids in school. He saw them - their parents couldn't put a decent outfit together, they didn't like singing, they weren't as clever as him. And they all seemed to dislike him. Kurt didn't understand the names that they shouted at him. He didn't understand why they picked on him.

Kurt Hummel liked fairytales. He liked crawling into his mom and dad's bedroom and lying wrapped in Karen Hummel's arms, listening to her tell yet another story she'd made up on the spot. She was so good at that her stories were captivating and Kurt loved them. He loved her perfume - it was floral and fresh and smelt comforting and this was where Kurt was certain he could be safe. Safe from the mean kids, safe from the people who didn't like him, safe from the terrifying, inevitable future.

And he wanted nothing other than his mommy now. He didn't want his dad to tell him to play with his colouring books in the family room because "kiddo, I just need a minute, okay?". Kurt knew his mom was poorly. He knew she had to go to the hospital a lot. But he got to visit her whenever she went, usually. Why couldn't he see her now? He was scared. He needed his mom!

Burt sat beside his wife, holding her hand and soothingly running his thumb over her bony knuckles. They both knew what was happening. Not everybody survived cancer, and they'd always known that. They just didn't expect Karen to be one of the few who fell.

The rest of their family were keeping Kurt occupied in the family room - telling him he could see his mom soon and "wow, aren't you a good colourer, Kurt?". Karen sighed as she lay back in the uncomfortable bed, keeping her gaze on her husband. "I want to speak to Kurt, honey. It's getting late," she whispered, looking up at Burt. "Please."

"Okay." Burt kissed her softly as he left, drowning himself with her appearance as if she'd disappear in the thirty seconds it would take to find their son. Kurt ran after his dad and into the room and his heart broke as Karen used all the energy her exhausted body contained to wrap her arms around the small, sobbing boy.

"I don't want you to... I don't want you to die, mom," Kurt whispered as her fingers ran through his soft hair, using her other hand to wipe his tears.

"And I don't want you to cry, baby. Come here," Karen soothed as he buried his head into her body. Burt had left the pair in the room alone as he felt like he was intruding on an important moment. "I'll always be... here. Okay?" She knew it was horribly cliché to say such a line in that moment, but she felt Kurt's hand squeeze around hers over his heart and she realised that maybe, she was saying the right thing.

Kurt was a lot like his mom. They both had the same pale skin and magically multicoloured eyes and Burt sometimes wondered what he'd done to earn such amazing people. And he didn't know what he'd done to lose one of them in front of his eyes... and it was crushing to see the woman he loved disappear in front of him. He could see her perfectly. He could touch her. He could hold her. And he could see how she was desperately holding onto anything she could cling on to.

Burt watched from outside the room as Kurt giggled as his mom talked about anything but death. Her delicate fingers traced the profile of her young son's face, reminding herself of his features - mostly inherited from her. He was well and truly a mommy's boy - when the other kids wanted to go to football and baseball practice, Kurt was giving both of his parents fashion advice. He would sit on the counter in the kitchen and watch Karen bake. She'd sit for hours as Kurt styled her hair or did her makeup better than any other girl his age could. Karen and Burt both knew their son was different to other children, but they never questioned it. He was uniquely theirs.

Karen's fingers laced with Kurt's as he looked up at his frail mom, who was trying her best to keep smiling around her innocent son. He was only eight. He didn't deserve to be exposed to how cruel the world was already.

"Kurt, come on, kiddo," Burt hushed, noticing his wife's tired demeanor. She pressed her body back into the bed, pressing a light kiss to Kurt's forehead.

Kurt looked back at his mom, who'd already fallen back into her sleep. "Will I see her tomorrow, dad?" Kurt asked, looking up at his father with an expression that belonged on a fifty year old man's worn out face, not his sons.

"We'll see, Kurt." Burt was never a man who was good with words, so he offered out his hand and waited for his son to take it. He gave a reassuring squeeze, and walked Kurt back to the family room.

Kurt loved college. He'd dreamed of independence on this scale ever since he could remember and he always knew New York City was where he would come to study.

He lived in a dingy Manhattan flat where there was a constant drip from the ceiling. The kitchen was littered with beer cans and coffee cups and Kurt sometimes wondered how he tolerated living with such an unsanitary mess. He was even resorting to take out meals on a frequent basis and he blamed Blaine's love of chow mein for his sudden inability to fit into his favourite pair of Levi's. And if it was anybody elses fault, he'd be pissed. But he couldn't help but love the collection of plastic chopsticks and polystyrene trays in their kitchen.

It was winter and every sidewalk seemed to be covered in a pretty white blanket. Of course, Kurt would be out enjoying the weather if he wasn't trapped inside the apartment finishing an essay. He was officially finished for the year when this damned essay was complete... but he had no motivation whatsoever. Whoever said fashion design didn't involve writing was crazy.

It was almost theraputic to see the snowflakes outside his window. His mom used to love snow. Burt used to tell Kurt that snowfall was his mom's way of wishing him a merry Christmas.

Blaine was out in the horrid snowstorm, last minute Christmas shopping. It wasn't hard to find gifts living in this city but God, he couldn't be bothered. Tourists still milled around in their hundreds, taking photos of Times Square with their overly expensive cameras or obnoxiously blocking the sidewalks. He needed some silly little presents to send back to his friends that he still spoke to from Dalton and he needed to find his younger sister a present. He'd promised that he would take her to see a musical on Broadway but hell, those tickets were expensive. He tried to compromise by offering her a "100 Top Broadway Hits" album instead.

"College really biting your butt, huh Blaine?" she'd laughed.

And he still hadn't even thought about Kurt's main present. Sure, he'd bought him that stupidly expensive cologne he'd gone crazy for but he wanted the real present. Something that he couldn't buy in a rush.

He'd talked to Burt and Carole about it, and they were fully behind him. He didn't ask for his own parents' approval because he knew they wouldn't give it.

It was only a promise. ...A promise to someday propose, and subsequently marry the boy he loved. So it was pretty much a preliminary marriage proposal. He had to get this right.

He stood outside a jewellery shop on a road he could barely recognise, clutching a small box in his hand. He'd actually done it. He had the ring. It was beautiful. And he couldn't stop freaking out with nerves. He punched his sister's number into his phone and she couldn't seem to see why he was so worried. It was funny to her to hear her brother freaking out... over nothing. He had nothing to worry about.

"Blainers, calm down. You're so whipped for this guy and the feeling is probably mutual. Just went you pop it on him, don't hide it in his Christmas pudding or whatever. That'd be just awkward."

He smiled. "I won't. But seriously... do you think he'll like it? You've met Kurt, you know what he's like... what if he doesn't like it, Sar?". Blaine flicked the velvet lid up and stared at the shiny ring - there was a subtle diamond in the middle of the thin silver band and it wasn't too flashy but not too simple. It was just... Kurt. It was perfect for him.

"Of course he will, silly. We're leaving soon to go to grandma and grandpa Anderson's house... so I have to go. Wait, does dad even know that you're doing this?"

"I don't really care. Tell him if you want," he laughed gently. He tried to hide it, but having such a terrible relationship with his father got him down. Blaine and his mother were... okay, when her husband wasn't around. And Sara loved Blaine. He always managed to make her smile when they were little and when they got older, they'd talk about boys and how unfair their dad was and joke around together. They were the best of friends, and it didn't matter that they were siblings with a minor age gap.

Kurt's fingers clenched around the phone, holding it so tight his knuckles were whitening and he could barely think straight. He still kept in contact with his family and him and Blaine were meant to be visiting after Christmas. But... he hadn't expected that. Not at all.

He knew God probably hated him but seriously, did he have to punish him in this way? All Kurt knew right now was that he needed to get to Ohio. His family needed him and well, as much as he hated to depend on them, he needed them too.

"Kurt?" Blaine wondered aloud - he hadn't dared to speak yet because he didn't have a clue what the hell was wrong.

"Go," he whispered brokenly. He sounded terrified.

"Kurt? Tell me what's wrong. Please."

They both heard him stutter on his ghostly breaths, desperate to compose himself. Blaine knew that Kurt was an incredibly overemotional person but he also knew that he hadn't finished watching an episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. Something was... really wrong. He wouldn't be packing a suitcase if he was just upset.

"Blaine. I love you, I really do. I just... I need to do this. I need to go back to Ohio for a few weeks and I'm sorry that we can't spend Christmas together and-" Kurt's voice was barely louder than a whisper.

"Can't I come with you? To Ohio?"

"No, Blaine. This is my problem. Just... I'll see you soon. I guess."

Blaine was well, confused. Kurt wasn't making any sense whatsoever and yeah, he was scared. He hated seeing his boyfriend's vulnerable side and not being able to make him feel better.

"Come here."

Kurt hesitated before allowing himself to be wrapped in a crushing hug, breathing deeply to memorise his cologne. He looked up at Kurt and saw the pain in his eyes that shown a man a lot older than nineteen. It was frightening.

"Is this... it? For us?" Blaine whispered.

"Blaine..." Kurt murmered, pressing a gentle kiss to his face with his arms still around him. "I... we'll see. I'll call you."

"I love you, Kurt. I want you to be okay."

"I will be. And I love you. I do."

Blaine watched helplessly as Kurt scurried out of the apartment and Blaine physically felt Kurt's wit, mannerisms, humour and stubbornness move out as well. He had no idea why he'd gone, or when he'd be back.

He took the material box out of his pocket and swallowed deeply, opening it to gaze at the ring. His fingers traced the cool metal and he made a promise to himself to never let Kurt fall between his fingers.

Blaine would never let Kurt slip away.

He was too important to ever let go.