So much I thought I'd have to say
Though I try to speak, my meaning strays
We can't avoid the facts that brought us here
I have come to say goodbye
.
Things do not get much better between Kurt and Blaine. Thinking that they could really be together with Jim out of the picture had been a silly thought.
A silly thought from both of them.
Kurt is still spending all of his time in doors, in Jim's sweat pants and t-shirt to be exact, and he smells kind of bad.
Also, Blaine's senses are getting very… well, sensitive. Everything he smells, smells a ten times worse than it would for any other person.
So numerous times Blaine asks Kurt to change into something else, or to take a shower, but Kurt only sits on the couch and stares ahead.
Blaine has even thought of calling the hospital, saying that he wants to be admitted after all. The person who would take care of him can't.
Only he doesn't want to, not as long as he doesn't need to. He needs to fix this thing with Kurt, not run from it.
He's run to often before. He always ran when shit got complicated.
He ran when he got bullied so bad he couldn't stand it anymore, he ran to Dalton when he could've done more. He could've refused to be the victim like he told Kurt.
Kurt was so much braver than he was.
He ran when he was afraid his relationship with Kurt might not work out, he ran from Kurt.
Kurt never ran from him, Kurt was so much braver.
And then when he thought Kurt didn't feel the way he felt, he ran. He broke of all contact while Kurt tried so desperately to stay in touch.
Kurt was the courageous one. It had always been Kurt.
And only when he was sure he didn't have to run anymore, Blaine got his act together and owned up to it.
Only when he knew he had no other choice he contacted Kurt again.
Only to say goodbye.
He had never been really good at saying goodbye, and boy has he screwed up this goodbye.
.
.
"I'm sorry," he says a week and a half after Jim really left.
He's settled himself on the couch, his head on Kurt's lap and the sweat pants smells bad, but he is only really happy that Kurt allows him to put his head down.
Though he wonders if Kurt is actually physically able to move at all.
A tear falls on his forehead.
"I'm sorry."
He says it again, and again, and again until Kurt responds at the seventh time he says it.
"Stop."
It's barely a whisper.
"Stop, you have nothing to be sorry about."
"I have everything to be sorry about, I came into your life and ruined your chances with Jim."
"They're not ruined, and it was me who started this whole thing."
"I'm a hypocrite," Blaine says, "I always ran when things got complicated and now I knew I would die and knew if things got shitty I'd get out anyway, I didn't think about the consequences it might have held for you."
"You thought about them more than I did, you didn't want to start this because of Jim, remember?"
Blaine nods.
"How do you feel?"
It's the first time Kurt asks it and Blaine smiles.
"Better than the doctor predicted I would, considering she only gave me two weeks."
"I'm going to take a shower."
And maybe, just maybe he would wear his own clothes once he got out.
.
.
"How long, Kurt?"
"Don't be a bitch."
"How fucking long?"
"two months, tops, but that was almost two weeks ago."
"So you're saying a month and a half?"
"Yes."
"Well, shouldn't you be calling people?"
"Why exactly did you sleep in that bathtub?"
"What bathtub?"
"You know what I mean."
"No, I don't. I sleep in bathtubs all the time."
"For fuck sake, Santana, can't you just admit that you miss him, want to talk to him and worry and care?"
"Jesus, Hummel, when did you start swearing?"
"Since my life is over."
"You still live at that house from your party?"
"Yes."
"Fine, I´ll be there in two hours."
.
.
Kurt didn't know what exactly had changed after his conversation on the couch with Blaine, but he knew he needed to take better care of Blaine.
He needed to take better care of himself in order to take better care of Blaine, and to do so he knew one thing.
He knew he couldn't do it alone.
So he had contemplated calling Wes, but Jim was staying at Wes's and Jim needed a friend as bad as Kurt needed someone to help take care of Blaine. So Wes was out of the question.
He'd thought of calling Carole or his dad, but they lived to far away and Kurt knew they were trying to make ends meet with Finn still in college and paying of Kurt's college debts as it was, so he couldn't ask them to take time off of work.
He would offer them to pay off his college debts himself, but they would argue to no end telling him they thought it was a parent's duty to pay for their child's education.
So Burt and Carole were out of the question.
Finn was still in college and the college year had just started, so Kurt really did not want to ask him to take the first two months of during his final year, thus ending up calling Santana.
He remembered the look in Santana's eyes when she had entered the room at his party, he remembered how Santana had looked at Blaine after Kurt turned Jim's proposal down and he knew Santana missed her best friend.
He felt guilty for never calling her in the first place, especially when she called every day to check up on Blaine before they left to Europe, and now he hadn't even let her known they were back and just called her to ask her to help take care of Blaine.
Things were shit, if you thought about it.
And fuck, Santana was on her way and he hadn't even told Blaine she was. He could only hope Blaine would be okay with this.
.
.
"I want to do this the right way."
Kurt says it, while resting his body against the doorframe.
"I was miserable the past two weeks because Jim left, but I have so little time with you and you need to know I want to do this right."
"Why?" Blaine asks, because he needs to know Kurt does this for the right reasons.
"Because I don't want to wake up in the middle of the night two years from now regretting the way I treated you. Jim left, he had a right considering the circumstances, but the reason he left is because I love you and I shouldn't let his leaving affect my love for you."
"No, you shouldn't," Blaine says and he doesn't know if he should be happy with Kurt's answer, but at least it's honest and honesty got them where they are and honesty will guide them through.
Honesty is kind of their thing, you see.
"Do you already need the morphine?"
"Not today, but maybe in a few days I do. I have this weird thing on my stomach," he says and he lifts his shirt, showing a big bump at his lower abdomen, Kurt immediately suspects it's got something to do with his left kidney.
"I've no idea what it means, but I'm pretty sure it's bad."
"Have you been able to urinate normally?"
Blaine laughs, but Kurt can see laughing hurts him.
"You can ask me if I can pee or take a piss, Kurt, we had sex in a bathroom stall mere weeks ago, no need to be all official."
Kurt smiles sweetly.
"Have you been able to take a normal piss?" he asks with the voice of an angel.
"No. It hurts and it's very little, do you think we should call the doctor?"
Kurt reaches to grab the phone.
"Santana is on her way over, she's going to help me take care of you," he says.
"That's good."
"Is it?"
A faint smile appears on Kurt's face.
"I never expected you to take care of me all on your own Kurt, it's fine that you asked for help and it's fine that it's Santana who you asked."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure, could you now please call the doctor cause this hurts like hell."
.
.
Apparently, Santana Lopez grew into an amazing cook and an amazing care taker.
She arrived two and a half hours after Kurt had called her, two hours after Kurt had called the doctor and started panicking because there was no way Blaine could get to the hospital by public transport and Jim had taken the car with him.
Santana walked in, told Kurt to 'calm the freak down', gave Blaine a kiss on his cheek, told him he looked pale and handed Kurt the keys to her car.
"You sure you want to let me drive? I could stay home and cook and you could go with him, that's fine."
But Santana had waved it off.
"I just came out of there, I'm not getting stuck in New York traffic again. I hate driving in New York."
So they went to the hospital and though Kurt still didn't know exactly what was going on, he freaked the hell out when they punctured a needle in Blaine's bump and liquid just came out, literally just came out.
Two liters, or so said the doctor's assistant but Kurt didn't care if it was two liters or two hundred, he just knew that this was the beginning of the end, literally.
They drove back and got to where they are now, sitting at the dinner table with a gloomy atmosphere all around them.
"I hate you," Santana breaks the silence, but the atmosphere gets only gloomier.
She stares directly at Blaine.
"I hate myself," she then continues.
"It's my fault we never stayed friends after high school. I thought you were a stupid Lima Loser for failing and I thought you betrayed me because you befriended Brittany and I hated her so I thought I had to hate you. It was a stupid naïve way of thinking."
"I get it," Blaine says and Kurt sees that he needs to lay down. He even wonders why he allowed Blaine to sit down at the table in the first place.
"I'm sorry things didn't work out between you and Brittany," he says, "and I know how a mind works at that time, I broke up with Kurt because he was moving away."
Santana takes a bite of an empty fork, but she doesn't even seem to notice.
"I hate you because I had to hear from Noah Puckerman you're dying."
"Why are you here?"
"I said it when I was 18 and I meant it, you and Britt are the only ones I'll ever be truly there for."
That's when it all clicks in Kurt's mind, the thing that never clicked back in high school. Santana was to Blaine what Mercedes had been to Kurt.
The friend when there weren't any others, the friend who understood. Maybe Kurt and Mercedes had bonded over fashion, he was sure Santana and Blaine had their own thing.
It also clicked why it had been so important for Santana to know how Blaine was doing, why she called every day after she found out, why she drove out almost immediately after Kurt had called him.
Because that's what you do.
I love you and it's all platonic but you're still my world and I'd do anything for you.
If Santana even remembered, he'd apologize for that time he called her Satan even if it were just a joke.
They spend some more time at the dinner table, Santana explains she pursued a career in writing and Kurt did not even know she could write, but she says she brought her laptop and all her notes and she can work from home.
She writes a column for the New Jersey newspaper every day and she is currently working on a book, though she can't say much about and she promises Blaine she'll tell him about it all when Kurt is not around, not that she doesn't trust Kurt but she just can't.
No, she did not leave any gorgeous woman behind in her house for all this time, she is not seeing anyone at the moment because she just got out of a long term relationship and she is not entirely over that person yet.
Yes, she is completely over Brittany, that was 'just a high school crush' and she doesn't let Kurt and Blaine argue, because she tells them that what they had and have was so much more than a high school crush.
Also, she knew they were having an affair the moment she walked through the door at Kurt's party because she might not be closeted anymore, but she's still a judgmental bitch and though she doesn't cheat anymore she still knows it and so she can still recognize it anywhere.
When Blaine literally falls of his chair from exhaustion, Santana and Kurt refuse to let him walk on his own, so Kurt lifts him up and Santana makes sure to lead and open every door on the way to Kurt's bedroom.
Kurt and Jim's bedroom.
It hurts Kurt that they will sleep in the bed he's always shared with Jim, but he also wants to sleep in the same bed as Blaine and he is pretty sure Blaine can't handle two people in a single bed anymore, it will hurt him too much.
Santana kisses Blaine's forehead, but Blaine doesn't notice because he's already fast asleep and only Kurt can hear what she whispers.
"I hate that I've only come to say goodbye."
.
.
The next morning Kurt wakes up to Blaine moaning.
No, not that kind of moaning, the kind of moaning in pain and agony.
Tears are streaming down his face and Kurt can't really read his expression, it's almost as if he's being tortured.
Then he hears it, he hears it through the moans. When he's not moaning but breathing, he sounds squeaky and Kurt has heard that sound before.
Next to the heavy breathing and the moaning, he squeaks and Kurt knows it's because his lung is almost shut off, he just knows it.
He wakes Blaine, because maybe when Blaine is awake he can control the breathing a little better and maybe than he doesn't have that tortured look on his face.
But Blaine panics when he wakes up, and it requires Santana and Kurt both to get him to calm down, they both lay on the big bed, Blaine in the middle, when he drifts back to sleep and Kurt calls Blaine's oncologist again.
She says she'll send someone with medical supplies and there will be some sort of oxygen device that will help Blaine breathe.
"And Kurt?"
"Yes?"
"I think you should start telling people to say goodbye."
Kurt hangs up the phone without saying anything.
.
.
Later that evening Blaine is hooked on oxygen, though he does not look any better.
He calls Santana to his bedside.
"Don't tell Kurt said this," he says, "but you need to make sure he gets back together with Jim."
Santana closes her eyes and shakes her head heavily.
"No," she says while the first tears rolls down from her cheek and sticks on her upper lip.
"no, you're not giving me orders, you can give them to me next week."
But Blaine knows he won't be.
"You have to make sure they get back together, because I can't die without any indication that Kurt might be happy again."
"Then don't. Don't die."
She clasps to Blaine's hand and Blaine knows she soon lets it go because it feels too bony, too fragile and too unlike Blaine.
"And Santana?"
But her eyes are still closed and a second tear knocks the first tear from her upper lip to her lower lip.
"You should stop smoking cigars," he says softly, "you should stop smoking cigars because lung cancer sucks."
A weak smile appears on her face.
"I'm not making promises yet, Warbler, I'm not ready to admit you're dying."
"But I am," Blaine says and then closes his eyes because even though he would want to try and do more to get through to Santana, he can't anymore. It hurts too bad, it is too much and he wants to sleep.
Two years ago if he was really tired he would've said he wanted to sleep for, like, forever, but he doesn't anymore. He doesn't want to sleep forever because soon he actually will.
"Can you get Kurt, please?" he whispers instead, "I nap better when he's with me."
.
.
The nap turned into an entire night of sleep, for Blaine.
Kurt never closed an eye.
Also, the bump was back. And the pain.
Kurt asks Blaine if he wants to go to the hospital again to get rid of all that liquid that's obviously stacking up in his abdomen for some reason, and when they get to the hospital Blaine gets a shunt in his abdomen, it will transport the fluid into a bag that hangs on Blaine's stomach and that bag has to be changed every four hours.
It's like some sort of catheter, Kurt explains to Santana and they take turns in changing it.
It's been three mornings when Santana and Kurt look at each other and Santana takes the phone without a word, to call the hospital.
"I'm calling on behalf of Blaine Anderson," she says, "he's terminally ill and he needs morphine. The pain killers we've got for him do not work anymore."
"Yes, he has two people that are home 24/7 to take care of him."
"No sir, he can't walk on his own anymore, he always needs someone to support him."
"Yes, that's right, that's his doctor."
Kurt has no idea what's going on at the other side of the line, but given the amount of questions Santana has to answer he's really happy he doesn't have to do this on his own.
Though he's got a handful of calming Blaine down and telling him that yes, Blaine, you need the morphine.
Yes, we know there's no going back once we hook you up on it Blaine, but no, you can't live like this anymore.
"No sir, if we don't start the morphine now I'm pretty sure he'll die in agony tomorrow and we don't want that."
Maybe Santana shouldn't have said that in Blaine's presence, because Blaine's frail hands grasp Kurt as tight as they possible can and Kurt heaves Blaine up to his chest and starts softly rocking him back and forth.
Your eyes as we said our goodbyes
Can't get them out of my mind
Kurt starts singing Rent, because what else is there to sing, really?
The ones that took me by surprise the night you came into my life
Where there's moonlight I see your eyes
Kurt's chest aches of how accurate this song is, a song about eyes. Hazel eyes that aren't hazel anymore. Not really, they're empty and ill and changed.
How'd I let you slip away when I'm long so to hold you?
Now I'd die for one more day because there is something I should told you
I love you, he thinks, I loved you, I love you, I love you, you and you.
When I look into your eyes, why does distance make us wise?
Why does it? Why does distance make us wise?*
The distance of them, the distance of all the moments they should've spent together. Lamenting, lamenting, lament.
The song is so accurate and Kurt cries in Blaine's hair as he is still rocking him back and forth and then he notices Blaine has gone limp in his arms and he panics.
"Blaine!" he says with force, "Blaine!"
But Blaine doesn't respond.
He looks at Santana desperately, but Santana just waves her arm as if she's urging him to sing on.
You were the song all along and before the song dies
I should tell you, I should tell you I have always loved you
You can see it in my eyes
Kurt clutches desperately to Blaine again, pressing a hard kiss to his head when suddenly he startles as Blaine heaves a deep sigh.
"That should've been our song," he whispers and Kurt smiles through his tears.
"I thought you were gone," he says still crying, "I thought you were gone before we even had a decent goodbye."
Blaine released himself from Kurt's arms and tried to sit up straight in the bed.
"I'm not going anywhere without saying goodbye to you."
Kurt looks him deep in the eyes, trying to find the last bit of hazel but he fails.
"I thought I'd never say goodbye to you."
.
.
After another twenty minutes on the phone and explaining over three times that yes, Blaine is already hooked on oxygen and yes, he also has some sort of catheter thingy in his stomach, someone should be on their way.
Another four hours later, Blaine has two machines next to his (or actually Jim's, Kurt corrects himself) side of the bed.
One for oxygen, one for morphine.
He gets a small dose at first, but the nurse explains to Kurt and Santana that they have to increase the dose every time until they reach the max, because otherwise it won't work.
The first dose, nothing special happens except that Blaine seems a little more cheerful, a little less in agony and little less tortured.
The second round he says this stuff is the best painkillers he's ever had and he eats an entire bole of chocolate pudding, while he hadn't been able to keep anything in since Santana's arrival.
The third dose, which is the following morning, Blaine is absolutely delighted.
"I want to go out Kurt, I want to watch rainbows."
Kurt huffs.
"I've never heard you talk about rainbows."
"Well, we have three gay people in this house, someone should talk about them."
"You're high, Blaine."
"Yes, and rainbows have lovely colors."
"Sure they do," Santana says as she rearranges Blaine's pillow.
"Kurt?"
"Yes, Blaine?"
"Can I write a letter to my mom?"
It's actually the seventh dose and the third day on morphine that Blaine actually writes the letter.
.
.
Helo mom,I think you think why is bliane riting to me so strange? Wll ' on morfmorphin and I dont realy know anymore and wow this big letter are big letters are this. But you sad you happy if I die and when you read this im dead and kurt is gay and he is better care of me then than you and so how can you say gay not oky if he cares me when I die and you not.
I go sleep now becase tird I ask kurt to post or santa because they good people good gay people gay is okay, bi bye mom bye dad, not love from blaine.
.
.
When Blaine asks Kurt to post the letter, Kurt's heart breaks.
He looks so lost and exhausted and Blaine wonders if people on a high are the same as people who are drunk, more raw and more honest.
Because if they are Blaine needs some serious comfort and in this state he felt the need to send his parents 'not love'.
So instead of posting the letter, which he probably never will, he crawls into bed with Blaine and the content sigh Blaine breathes out flutters a light in his heart.
When he wakes up the following morning, Blaine is lucid.
"Kurt?" he asks weakly.
"Yes?"
"I really want you to post that letter. I know it's properly poorly written and makes no sense, but I want them to know what they've done."
"Is that really what you want Blaine?"
"Yes, I'm their child and I didn't get to say goodbye to my mommy and daddy. I want them to know what they've done to me."
"I don't think you know what you're saying, baby," Kurt tries to reason but even when he's weak and fragile, Blaine is stubborn and determined.
"Is it so wrong for me to want my mommy to hold me when I'm sick and tired?"
Kurt empathizes. He also wants his mommy to just hold him.
"Of course it's not," he says.
.
.
At three that afternoon, Jim and Wes are at the door.
"Santana called me," Wes says while Kurt and Jim just stare at each other.
"She said he's hooked on morphine and that it's hours rather than days at the moment."
Kurt nods and lets them in.
"He's asleep now, I don't really want to leave his side for too long," Kurt says, "but you can wake him if you want, he says he doesn't want to sleep through his last days on this planet."
Wes nods and walks to Blaine's bedroom.
Kurt coughs, Wes turns around and Kurt nods his head into the direction of his and Jim's bedroom.
"I see," Wes says sternly and walks into the room.
"How are you holding up?" Jim asks but Kurt ignores him.
"Kurt, I asked you a question."
"I don't want to talk to you," Kurt says, "I lost you and now I'm losing Blaine. I don't want to talk to because it hurts too much."
Jim leaves it, but never takes his eyes of Kurt until he walks into the bedroom.
Kurt wonders what goes on in there, how do you say goodbye to the person your boyfriend cheated on you with? How do you say goodbye?
Maybe it's a plus that Blaine is high on morphine again, because he hears giggles from the bedroom from both Blaine and Jim.
Maybe Blaine's spilling the beans about their first time, something Kurt never ever told Jim about, how much he pried.
When Jim exits from the bedroom, he wears a smile that not quite reaches his eyes.
"He's way too young to die," he says and kisses Kurt's cheek before he goes.
Santana is there to catch Kurt when his knees give way.
.
.
Morphine has reached its max, Blaine isn't really getting high anymore, the morphine isn't doing the job like it used to in the first few days, but Blaine says the pain is bearable.
Finn has called and said his goodbye, so have Burt and Carole.
"I hope holds out a week longer, Kurt, we've taken off work for two weeks and we'll be definitely there for the funeral. You should've called us sooner, we'd have been out there."
It was good that they weren't, maybe it was supposed to be this way.
Kurt was still miserable without Jim in his life, but he didn't really notice as all he focused on was taking care of Blaine, making sure he was comfortable, making sure the catheter bag was changed, the oxygen was on the right level.
Making sure Blaine got everything he ever wanted.
"You have to promise me now, Santana," Blaine says late on Thursday evening, you have to tell me you'll get Kurt and Jim back together."
Santana doesn't even smile weakly like she used to around Blaine, she just crawls into his bed and with that Blaine knows she knows it's almost over.
"I promise, Hobbit Warbler Anderson," she says and kisses his cheek.
"Can you get him for me now?" Blaine asks but Santana holds onto him for another fifteen minutes.
"I think I'll never be ready to leave this room," she says, "but I'll go get him. I'll see you when I'm old and wrinkly."
She winks and jumps of the bed to get Kurt. She has to get him, because Blaine was already starting to breathe irregularly when she walked away.
"You have to go, now," she says sternly, taking the laundry away from Kurt, "I'll do this."
.
.
"You wanted to see me?" Kurt asks as Blaine lies on his back with his eyes closed.
Kurt hopes to everything that he can think of that Blaine can open them at least one more time, he has to see if the hazel really is gone, if it's really only hollow left.
Blaine flutters a few times, when he opens his eyes and Kurt reaches out to pull Blaine close, so close.
Hazel is everywhere in those eyes, for a fragment of a millisecond, when they turn hollow again.
But Kurt saw it, there was still hazel and this boy is still Blaine.
Even if he is bald with soft baby-like hair growing back on it, even if he's pale and fragile, even if his cheeks are hollow and he weighs no more than a bony thirteen year old, this is Blaine.
And with that hazel he said what Kurt so desperately needed to hear.
This is who I am and who I'll still be when I walk away from here.*
Blaine settles his head on Kurt's chest as they slouch down on the bed and Kurt takes Blaine's arm in his hand.
He knows this is it, he knows Blaine is content with the way his head is on Kurt's chest and he knows almost everything between them is said.
So Kurt reaches down and takes Blaine's wrist in his arm, he feels it.
"I really care about you," Blaine whispers lazily and Kurt kisses his head.
"I've been looking for you forever," he breaths and Kurt kisses his head.
"I'm crazy about you," he says and Kurt kisses his head.
Then Blaine tries to find all the courage, all the strength he has left and lifts his head on his own accord.
"I love you," he mouths and Kurt kisses his those dry lips.
"I love you, too," he says into Blaine's mouth, before Blaine collapses back on his chest, unable to support his own weight any longer.
They lay in silence for a long time, everything has been said.
Blaine's breathing gets more and more irregular with every breath he takes, it's heavy and deep one time and shallow and light the next moment.
Then he softly giggles in Kurt's chest, eyes still closed and Kurt asks what's so funny in a whisper.
"Pavarotti's here," Blaine answers.
Kurt smiles.
"And so is your mom," Blaine says seriously the next moment.
"I have to go, Kurt," he says.
"Then go," Kurt whispers as he presses his lips to the soft downy hairs on Blaine's almost bald head.
He feels nothing.
The fingers that he held onto Blaine's pulse feel nothing.
He keeps his lips brushing over the top of Blaine's head, as he glances over to the alarm clock on the night stand.
"Time of death," he whispers, "23.46"
.
.
A/N: Song quote at the top is 'From My Hand' by VNV Nation
* quote from the same song
The song Kurt sings is 'Your Eyes' from Rent.
I promise you, this is not the end of the story. Not yet. 'Of course it's all in your head, but why should that mean it's not real?'
Also, please don't ask me if I believe in spirituality because of the Pavarotti and Elizabeth moment Blaine has, because I honestly just do not know what I believe. I do believe Blaine saw then, may that be in his head, a reassurance his subconsious gave him before he died or they really came to get him, I don't know. I just know Blaine saw them and Blaine believes and that's what important :).
-Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows'