A/N: Feel free to shun me. Shame! Shame on me! Or, rather, shame on my computer. I was all prepared to start on the Klistmas special, when my FUCKING COMPUTER CRASHED! I am so sorry. Since Christmas is over, leaving me with piles of new movies and Glee stuff, I see no point in posting it :(

Anyways, this shall be continued at various times...When, I'm not sure, but it will come. This is super angsty, and yes, there will be death D:

Chapter Rating: Teen for language and character death

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, I do, however, own every album, poster and "special movie".

Realization:

It was just an innocent blood test. Kurt had simply been subject to a persistant cold and Blaine had taken him in. The moment he answered the call that stormy saturday morning, he knew something was wrong.

"Mr. Hummel?" came the all-too-chirpy nurse's voice on the other end. Kurt stirred his cup of coffee, grinning slightly as his boyfriend's arms laced around his waist.

"Speaking."

"We have some...unsavory news, sir, but we don't want you to be alarmed. There's a good chance we can stop it before it spreads any further," she said softly.

Her words sent piercing icicles into Kurt's heart as he froze. "What is it?" Blaine asked. Kurt silenced him, gripping the phone like a life support.

"What do you mean?"

"Mr. Hummel, sir, you have...leukemia."

The phone clattered to the ground. Blaine shook his boyfriend by the shoulders. Tears began to fall, Blaine picked up the phone and then he, too, was sobbing.

Kurt believed he was fine. The doctors gave him some pills and told him that he was to come in twice a week for radiation therapy. Blaine and Kurt were slowly pulling eachother back together, struggling to hold onto the fact that Kurt was getting better.

One late night, about two weeks into treatment, Kurt stood in front of the bathroom mirror, swallowing the pills. Tears snaked their ways down his porcelain cheeks. Who was he kidding? He couldn't do this; he couldn't survive this disease. Cancer was controlling his body and his mind.

"Kurt?" Blaine called. "Kurt, sweetheart?"

Kurt hastily wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Um, in-in-" He clutched his pouding head. The world spun around him and he dropped to the floor. "Blaine!" he whimpered.

Quinn Fabray. Santana Lopez. Brittany Pierce. Rachel Berry. Tina Cohen-Chang. Mercedes Jones. Finn Hudson. Mike Chang. Artie Abrams. Noah Puckerman. Burt Hummel. Carole Hummel. Blaine Anderson.

These were the people he loved; the people he wanted nothing more then to spend time with before he...before he...He squeezed his eyes shut, balling his fists in the terribly cliche sheets of the hospital bed. Blaine Anderson.

Why him? Why did he have to die? Why hadn't he gone to the doctor's sooner? Why? The tears - the ever-so-familiar-tears that never seemed to stop - slipped from the corners of his eyes. They were supposed to get married. They were going to adopt! He was going to be a broadway star. Blaine was going to begin his own music studio. And then their dreams were crushed just because of a little something called death.

He turned over on his back, staring up at the white ceiling. The doctors told him that he had three days to live. Three days and then he would simply...die.

The preppy constitutioners for the "Save a Day" foundation had promised to fund whatever he wanted to do for those three days. But he didn't know. A part of Kurt Hummel simply wanted to lay in bed and cry...And there there was a more pressing part that wanted to get the hell out of theere and fucking live.

His heart thumped painfully in his chest. W-What would death be like? Would it hurt? Was there a heaven? If so, would he go there? What if he was a ghost, trapped beneath the lives of the living and the dead. Could he be a guardian angel? Watching over Blaine endlessly?

No. No. Shut up, he thought angerily. You're stronger than this, Hummel. Stronger! It was then that everything became clear. Since he was going to die, he wanted to help people. He wanted to...wanted to show teenagers that had been tortured that everything was okay. He wanted to spend every moment with Blaine Anderson.

Kurt's legs wobbled as he slid out of bed, shakily trudging to the door. He glanced out, spying his family in the waiting room, Blaine was crumpled up in a chair, his face in his hands. He turned and strode the opposite way, shoving the image out of this mind.

He didn't know exactly what he was looking for...He just knew he'd know when he saw it. Kurt arrived at the elevator, pressing the number three button and clambering inside.

He passed the first couple doors on the level. And then he nudged open the fourth one. There. There he was.

A boy, maybe fifteen, sat on a bed. He had a thick gauze bandage wound around his head, a crimson spot indicating blood. His complexion was terribly pale, the awful blue of the crimple gown making it ever so. His hands shook, gripping the metals bars, his eyes closed.

"Hello," Kurt whispered.

The boy jumped, staring at him. "A-A-Are you the doctor?" he asked tentatively, crystal blue eyes sparkling with tears.

"No. I just - I came to talk. My name is Kurt," Kurt said.

"I'm James. James Hastings."

Kurt smiled tenderly, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "What happened James? Why are you here?"

James turned away for a moment. "I...I got shot. In the head. S-Some asshole jocks at my school..."

"Are you gay?" Kurt already knew the answer.

"Yeah, you gotta problem?" he snapped.

"No, sweetie. I'm gay, too."

"You are?" he blinked.

"Yeah. Not an easy road in high school, huh?"

"Not at all. Why are they all so ignorant? It's not like I'm hitting on them."

"That's life. Some people just can't accept others being different."

"Do you have a boyfriend?" James wanted to know.

"I do. He's wonderful." Silence.

"Does it get better?" James sniffled. "I mean...Does it?"

Kurt took his hand. "James, you're amazing. You're intelligant, strong, cute, quirky, funny. And someday you're going to find a guy that loves you. It does get better, sweetheart, as long as you believe it."

"Why are you here?"

"C-Cancer, they told me."

"Are you going to d-die?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am."

A/N: Here's a sneak peek for the sequal:

"Where are we going?" Kurt asked, laughing airily as his boyfriend tugged him down the familiar, looming hallways of Dalton Academy. Blaine smiled back at him. "Don't you remember this place? The memories concieved here?" he asked. "How could I forget? This staircase is where we met."

Yes? No? I suck?

Love,

Lexi