A/n: This is just a teeny tiny ficlet; it's not even a half-page long. It's more of a vignette, really. I'm going to apologize in advance, because it's a bit morbid. I hate writing stuff like this, but I was in such a bad mood that I just had to do it. Again, I'm really sorry. Really. Sorry.
DISCLAIMER: I don't know why a disclaimer is necessary. The entire website is dedicated to fanfiction. Obviously, I do not own the characters, otherwise I would be posting this elsewhere.
The gun slipped from Blaine's fingers as a strangled sob escaped his lips. His eyes flickered from Kurt's face to the man, now on his knees, that he had just shot. After that last look around the room, he fled.
Kurt dialed 911 frantically and spoke his information into the receiver, rushing to Dave's side. The latter swayed before falling, his waifish companion catching him and cradling his head in his lap. Hot tears spilled freely from clear blue eyes.
"Kurt..." the school bully-turned-sweetheart gasped, pausing to cough as blood gurgled up into his mouth and dripped from his defined chin. Kurt choked back a sob, working to staunch the blood flowing from the bulled hole in his fiance's stomach.
"Don't talk, Dave. The ambulence will be here soon." Kurt pleaded, kissing Dave's lips and tasting blood.
"Kurt... I'm sorry... I said I'd never leave you..." Dave wheezed, reaching up to press his calloused, bloodstained fingers against the smooth porcelain of Kurt's cheek.
"You're not going anywhere, Dave, the ambulance is coming, don't talk like that!" Kurt whispered frantically, but Dave's breathing was shallow and the blood wouldn't slow.
"Hey, Fancy," Dave murmured, the ghost of a smile taking shape on his colorless face "I love you."
The light light left Dave's eyes, the ambulance came and went, the blood on Kurt's face dried and was washed off. The next spring saw Blaine convicted, and saw the opening of Kurt's new boutique...
"Hamhock & Fancy"