4th January

Rewind - Paolo Nutini

Kurt's eyes watered. He sat in the middle of their bedroom floor, hugging his knees to his chest. He was surrounded by photos, snap after snap. Every one was different, each the same.

Him and Blaine. Every photo. From every stage in their relationship...

A cheeky shot from his first proper day at Dalton. That first Christmas when they sang Baby, It's Cold Outside. A cuddly photo from Regionals where they sang Candles after getting together. One from inside the club Sebastian took them to, before everything went wrong. Copies of the professional photographs taken at West Side Story. An adorable snap of them sleeping which had been taken by Rachel on his phone one morning. When Kurt graduated, Blaine kissing his lips in pride. Another of them sleeping, in this one considerably more drunk, at their graduation party, limbs intertwined on Puck's sofa. When Blaine graduated, Kurt with his arms around his neck. A blurry photograph from when Blaine's excited hands slipped when pressing the shutter, standing in front of the door of their first apartment. That one they'd asked a passing stranger to take as they went to the Empire State Building for the first time. A moody picture of Kurt's Broadway debut, and another of Blaine's first proper gig in an underground bar. That time when Mike and Tina came to stay with them and they'd gone to the park, Tina taking a picture of Kurt sleeping on Blaine's chest, Blaine playing with his hair as he dozed in the sunlight. One from a couple of hours after that, walking back through the park after dark, Kurt and Blaine holding hands in front while Mike was behind, taking a photo of them. A cheesy photo of just two to of them on a ride at Disneyland. A holiday they'd gone on with Finn and Rachel, Rachel taking a snap of Blaine sunbathing on his stomach, Kurt massaging his shoulders. That time they'd gone back to Ohio at Christmas. When the Warblers had their first reunion and Wes had insisted on a group photograph. A cute one where they both lay on their bed, the white sheets visible, faces close together as they stuck their tongues out at the camera. Going shopping together and pretending they were married.

And then the hardest ones.

A photograph of the bunch of roses after it had been collected together, Kurt having gone around their house finding each of them. Each had a piece of paper tied around their thornless stems (which symbolised love at first sight). Red (courage), white (youthfulness), pink (perfect happiness), yellow with red tip (friendship), lavender (enchantment), coral (desire), light pink (sweetness), another red (I love you) and yellow (promise of a new beginning). Kurt had collected them and put them in the vase that Blaine had offered him, a frown on his face. Blaine had merely smiled, explained that eleven roses meant the recipient is truly and deeply loved. Kurt smiled, but then counted them. Blaine had drawn the last two out from behind his back. Red and white (unity), and their stems were entwined together. Marry me.

The next photograph after that was their wedding. It was painful to look at. It had happened a lot sooner than either of them had expected. They'd wanted a summer wedding. They'd got a winter one. The photo shows the two of them, taken by Carole, as they were saying their vows. Both sets of eyes showed an undying love for the other. Blaine's face was pale; paler even than Kurt's. He'd been struggling to breathe, face gleaming with sweat, Kurt squeezing his hands to urge him through. Kurt's own face had been paler than normal too, but his features crossed with worry. That was meant to be the happiest day of their lives. They were meant to be in tuxes and running through the sand. They were meant to sleep in a four-poster bed afterwards with the sound of the sea lapping up against the shore. They didn't get that. Any of it. Blaine was in a hospital gown and running out of breath. They'd slept in his hospital bed that night, Kurt crying into his husband's chest to the sound of his monitor bleeping.

The final photo was the most painful of all. It was taken a couple of days after the previous one. After Kurt had woken on the morning after his wedding. To silence. To a deathly silence. Which was soon shattered by his piercing scream and loud sobbing which made the hairs stand up on the backs of everyone's necks in the entire hospital. And Burt had put his hand on his son's shoulder and just touched him as he broke down over the lifeless body in his bed, kissing every inch of its skin. His screams continued to cut the air for another hour.

Kurt took a breath, tears streaming off his chin, before he made himself look at the photo properly.

A single black stone. Marble. With gold lettering. A single black rose lay beneath it. Farewell. Utmost devotion. The photograph had been blurry by how much Kurt's frail hands had been shaking when he took it. But the lettering could still be made out.

Here lies singer, friend and husband

Blaine Devon Anderson

1995 - 2017

I'll never blow our candles out

Kurt dropped the photo to the floor. His eyes became waterfalls, dripping tears down his cheeks, falling off his chin and soaking his shirt. He was silent at first. But then it got too much, too real, too recent. He was struggling for breath. And the sobs came. Soft at first. Then louder. Then as clear as his vision was cloudy. His body racked with sobs as moan after moan cascaded from his lips.

He'd had it all. That life he'd always dream of. He'd had that perfect job, that perfect man with his own perfect job. Their perfect house in the suburbs. Perfect plans for perfect children.

And then he'd lost it. In one fell swoop. And he'd lost the one constant through everything. The one who taught him how to love, properly, not some high school crush on a straight guy. The one who'd taught him to have courage. The one who'd taught him not to hide who he was. The one who taught him that he was beautiful and amazing and sexy. The one who taught him that any dream is possible if you just believe in it. The one that taught him to be strong through his dad's illness. The one who taught him that cancer isn't the end.

Until it is.

And the sobs still reverberating around his body, he said the first thing that came into his head.

"Why can't we just rewind?"