Author's Note:

This chapter is from 1920s Kurt's point of view again (and a short part from Burt's point of view at the end). It describes the same happenings as in the previous chapter, so this one, too, is extremely angsty. I cried so hard writing this :'-(

Chapter 9: A Last Goodbye

Saturday dawned clear and bright, and Kurt whistled as he worked in his father's store. He'd asked his father for the afternoon off, to go pick up the resized ring and make himself ready for his rendezvous.

"Someone's happy," Burt remarked, and Kurt gave him a big smile.

"Today's the day, then?" Burt asked, and Kurt told him it was.

At 12 noon, Kurt skipped out of the store, still in the best of spirits, and he hurried to the jeweler's to check if the ring was ready. It wasn't, but the store clerk promised him he could pick it up at three in the afternoon. Perfect.

Kurt made himself a quick lunch and then spruced himself up, making sure he was back at the jeweler's at 3 p.m. precisely.

With the ring in his pocket and a spring in his step, he walked to The Dalton, where he slipped unseen into Blaine's dressing room.

The lights were off, but Blaine was there, waiting for him, looking more serious than Kurt had ever seen him.

"Hey," Kurt said, grinning ear to ear.

Blaine returned his smile hesitantly. "Kurt… Are you sure about this?"

"Very sure. I want to share this with you before…" Kurt's grin slid off his face. "Before we can't see each other anymore."

"So this is really goodbye, then?" Blaine asked.

"I think it must be. Yes."

"We'll have to be quick, and we can't make any noise. There is no lock on the door. We can put the wardrobe against it, but that won't buy us much time."

"Okay."

Blaine tugged Kurt behind a corner he'd never noticed before.

"Just in case we are caught – there is a hiding place behind this curtain."

Blaine whipped open the curtain, but all Kurt could see was a gilded full-length mirror.

"See these decorations here on the left? This one is a button you can push, and then the mirror swings open, like this, and there's room for you to hide."

"For us both, I hope?"

Blaine looked at Kurt with fond exasperation. "There's no way we could both escape if we were found in a compromising position. And you're the one with the most to lose. Promise me you'll hide. No misplaced heroics that will get us both killed."

Blaine's insistence alarmed Kurt. "Blaine, what… Killed? You're exaggerating, right?"

He was half expecting Blaine to laugh, but that didn't happen.

Blaine remained deadly serious, and only repeated. "Promise me, Kurt. Or I'm not going through with this."

Kurt stared at him dumbly, his happy anticipation long gone. "Blaine… What happened to you that you think this is necessary?"

"Not to me," Blaine told him. "But I saw it happen. Two friends of mine, Nick and Jeff. They were… attacked. Out in the street. Just because they were holding hands. In seconds, there was a whole mob. There was nothing I could do. Kurt… You have no idea… No idea how people hate us, and want to destroy us."

Blaine took Kurt's hands and squeezed them. "If we get caught, promise me you'll save yourself."

Kurt looked down at their joined hands and drew courage from them. "I promise."

Blaine nodded once. "I'm going to leave the mirror door open, so that you can just slip in and close it behind you. Now, let's move the wardrobe in front of the door."

Once that was done, Blaine produced a sheepskin for them to lie on, and they lay down, hands entwined, knees and noses touching, their eyes soaking in every detail of their beloved.

"Hey," breathed Blaine, giving Kurt a bunny kiss.

"Hey."

They kissed, softly and leisurely, until they were smiling too hard to keep going.

"May I?" whispered Blaine, one hand on the topmost button of Kurt's shirt.

Kurt nodded, shivering a little as Blaine slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

Then it was Kurt's turn, his mouth going dry as he revealed Blaine's torso and ran his hand over Blaine's chest hair.

"You're so beautiful," Blaine murmured.

Kurt cupped Blaine's face and stared into his eyes. "So are you."

Blaine shuffled a little closer still, until their whole bodies were touching. That felt amazing, and Kurt couldn't help but moan.

Instantly, Blaine flung a hand over Kurt's mouth to silence him.

"We mustn't be heard," he breathed into Kurt's ear. His hot breath did things to Kurt that made him want to make more desperate noises, but he kept them in somehow.

Blaine opened first his own fly, and then Kurt's, taking them both in hand.

Kurt sucked in a deep breath and then stuffed his knuckles into his mouth so as not to make a sound, because oh, oh, OH!

It was all over very quickly, but Kurt knew he'd remember every single moment. Every touch, every look, every bitten-off sound and whisper of endearment. All of it was precious to him, and he would treasure the recollection always.

Blaine smiled at him warmly as he cleaned up the mess with his handkerchief and then put Kurt's clothes back to rights. "I love you."

Kurt smiled back and started to button Blaine up again. "I love you too. I wish…"

Blaine silenced him with a kiss, and Kurt pushed back any regrets and gave himself over to the love that radiated from Blaine so strongly that it felt like a tidal wave.

BAM!

The wardrobe gave way as if it weighed nothing, the door slammed open, and two men rushed inside. They looked beefy, drunk, and angry.

Kurt and Blaine froze mid-kiss, and then each ran into another direction, but the men were fast, and grabbed them.

The one holding Kurt slammed a fist into Kurt's nose, and he doubled up with the pain of it, curling into a ball.

He heard Blaine scream, "No", and he heard a couple of sickening crunches, and then suddenly, he was free.

He looked up in disbelief, and saw that Blaine had knocked out one of their assailants, and was now wrestling the second.

Blaine caught his eye and hissed, "Run!"

When Kurt hesitated, Blaine added, "You promised!"

So Kurt ran behind the curtain, rushed into the space behind the mirror and clicked it shut.

Then he curled into a tiny ball again, sobbing soundlessly, trying but failing to block out the sounds of the fighting that was still going on. What was happening? Would Blaine be okay? Why oh why had Kurt promised to hide? This was agony!

The sounds stopped eventually, and one of the men said, "Bumped him off all right. He had it coming. Hummel made a clean sneak, did he? Hmm, we'll get him later. Nasty faggots. Let's go."

Kurt heard the door slam, but didn't dare get out of his hiding place. Huh. Come to think of it, he didn't even know how to open the secret door. There had to be a latch somewhere. Kurt started feeling around, while keeping his ears wide open.

Sooner than he'd have thought, someone came into the room again. Or rather, two people. One of them was addressed as "Doctor", and seemed to be examining Blaine. His verdict was that Blaine would certainly die because there was too much internal bleeding, and Kurt put his knuckles back into his mouth to keep from screaming. No. No, no, no, this could not be happening!

And what was that? Was that Blaine speaking? It sounded more like gurgling, and Kurt couldn't make head nor tails of it.

The doctor wasn't any help, just saying curtly, "Okay, I'll tell him. You take it easy, okay?"

The doctor left again, and Kurt renewed his efforts to find the latch of the secret door. He had to see Blaine one last time. Ask his forgiveness. This was all his fault.

Just as he found the latch and wanted to slip out of his hiding hole, he heard footsteps again and froze. There was a knock on the door, a groan from Blaine, and then Kurt heard a voice say,

"Seems the chap's still alive, Mr. Hummel. Go on in. You can find your own way back to the ballroom?"

And then Kurt heard himself speak – well, his great-grandson as himself – thanking the doctor. The door opened, and someone stifled a scream.

Blaine let out a gurgle again, this one so short that even Kurt could make out his name. He tiptoed to peek behind the corner, horrified when he saw how beaten up Blaine was.

Kurt's great-grandson played along well, pretending Blaine was a stranger to him, pretending this was all some big misunderstanding, and promising to look after Blaine's mother "when you're gone".

Oh no, no, no, Blaine couldn't die! He mustn't!

And now the girl was talking. Lottie! He hadn't recognized her immediately, because her hair was bobbed, but yes, that was Lottie, making more pretty promises.

Another gurgle came from Blaine, and to his horror, Kurt saw blood stream out of Blaine's mouth.

That proved too much for Lottie, who fainted.

Now was Kurt's chance, and he revealed himself to his great-grandson, who again knew exactly what to do.

Moments later, still reeling from his great-grandson's lightning-quick actions, Kurt was holding Lottie, who was slowly coming to.

Kurt withdrew his gaze from Blaine, and focused on his soon-to-be fiancée, who requested to leave.

Kurt offered her his arm, but just as he turned his back on Blaine, there was another gurgle. It sounded like "Love you".

It was all Kurt could do to keep his face composed. He wanted to cry, and scream, and rage, and hold Blaine in his arms and tell him he'd always love him, only him. But he couldn't do any of that. He could only pretend.

Lottie turned to face Blaine again, and understood his words as a message to his mother. So much the better.

Kurt risked one last glance at Blaine and tried and failed to swallow away the big lump in his throat. Then he led Lottie away from the room and back to her family.

Lottie's mother embraced her at once, and asked if she was okay.

Lottie nodded. "Mutti, do you think you can find out that poor man's address? We need to go visit his mother. His last message to her was that he loved her. She deserves to know. And she needs to know we'll look after her."

Mr. Hartz gave her a card. "Already done, Lotte, my dear. I asked the hotel manager."

"Thank you, Onkel Franz," said Lottie. "That's settled, then. We'll go see her."

"But tomorrow," Lottie's mother insisted. "We've had quite enough excitement for one day."

The lump in Kurt's throat grew even bigger. Yes, he'd run the whole gamut of emotions, that was quite true.

Oh, Blaine! You knew how dangerous this was, and yet you didn't say no, it's too risky. You gave me what I wanted, but paid for it with your life. Oh, I'll never forgive myself.

After leaving the hotel, Kurt accompanied the Hartzes for a few more streets.

Mrs. Hartz patted Kurt on the arm and whispered, "Between Lottie's big reveal and then this… incident, you clean forgot about your proposal, didn't you? Never mind, a Christmas engagement will work just as well."

Kurt stopped dead, his hand on his chest. "The ring!"

They had switched jackets, which meant… He felt in the inside pocket. Not a ring box, but something else. It felt like… the rose brooch. Uh-oh. He had to find his great-grandson again.

"Excuse me a moment!" he shouted over his shoulder at Mrs. Hartz as he ran back to the hotel.

Before he could run inside The Dalton, someone grabbed him.

Kurt, convinced that the thugs had come back to kill him, too, felt his legs turn into rubber and let out the tiniest of squeaks.

He needn't have worried, though. It was his great-grandson, who'd already cottoned on about the ring, and who had… messages from Blaine? Blaine wanted Kurt not to blame himself? And assured him he loved him and always would?

Oh, Blaine!

Kurt could hardly hold it together anymore, and ran off after thanking his great-grandson.

When he caught up with the Hartzes again, he apologized once more for his disappearance.

"You lost the ring?" Mrs. Hartz asked in an undertone, sounding worried.

"It must have fallen out," Kurt lied. "Thank goodness I was the first one who found it!"

"So you've got it back?"

Kurt patted the pocket where he'd put it. "Safe and sound."

He managed a smile and a "Good night!" when they parted ways, and held it together until he came home.

His father was in the living room, and looked up from reading the newspaper to ask, "And, how did it go? Hey, what happened to your nose?"

That was all it took for Kurt's face to crumple and for him to start sobbing as if he'd never stop.

"Son? What happened?"

Burt sounded alarmed, not angry, and that made Kurt cry all the harder.

After a few minutes, though, he managed to say, "Someone… Someone got killed. Because of me."

Then he ran up the stairs and fell onto his bed, still sobbing.

Blaine might not have blamed him, and might have died still loving him with his last breath, but Kurt knew it was his fault. That if not for his eagerness, Blaine might have lived. Blaine had sacrificed himself for Kurt, so that he could have his picture-perfect life.

For a moment, Kurt wished he'd stayed with Blaine, so that they could have died together, like Blaine's friends had.

But Blaine had wanted Kurt to survive, so he would. He would live the best life he could. For Blaine. Though forever without him.

Pain sliced through his heart, and he curled into a ball, inconsolable.

He never noticed Burt watching him, shaking his head, and then donning his coat and hat to pay a visit to the Hartzes.

Mrs. Hartz didn't seem surprised to see Burt. "Kurt's father? Do come in. Lotte's already asleep after the whole ordeal."

"Ordeal?"

Mrs. Hartz nodded. "How much has Kurt told you?"

"Just that someone died. Because of him."

"Oh, the poor boy," Mrs. Hartz sighed. "He's taking this so much to heart. And then he had to be strong all evening for Lotte. No wonder he's at the end of his tether. But you should be very proud of him, Mr. Hummel. He did everything that was right. He's such a sweet, caring boy. He'll be such a good husband to Lotte."

After Burt had heard the whole story, he went home, feeling pensive. He'd wondered too. He had to admit it. When his son grew up with a girlish voice, and showed no interest in girls whatsoever, he'd wondered. That's why he'd been so glad when Kurt had finally fallen in love. Glad, and relieved.

And now this. A jealous suitor of that Lottie girl making trouble for Kurt.

It would follow Kurt around, Burt knew it would. A subject like that kept tongues wagging.

All he could do was stand staunchly behind Kurt and support and believe him, and tell everyone who doubted his son to go to hell.