"Kurt, I'm gonna need that article by Thursday, okay?"

"Got it, Isabelle!"

Everyone at Vogue was rushing to finish their work for the day, Kurt included. It had been hectic, but it was finally beginning to calm down. New York Fashion Week had passed, and the next one wasn't until December, so Kurt finally had room to breathe.

Once the day had finally ended, Kurt collected his things and began to leave the building. He swiftly made his way through the winding hallways, slightly crowded with others heading home, and adorned with colorful designs on the walls. Dozens of shoes hitting the floor and a few quiet phone calls could be heard, and Kurt let the hum of his workplace lull him into a slight stupor as he made his way towards the elevator. Once he finally reached the row of elevators, he settled in to wait with everyone else. He leaned against the wall and sighed, at last starting to unwind. Suddenly, Kurt felt a vibration in his pocket. He fished out his phone and peered at the screen.

'Blaine', the phone screen read. Kurt smiled softly and answered.

"What's up, hon?" Kurt asked quietly.

"I have a surprise for you when you get home."

Kurt fought the urge to laugh. "Well, it's not really a surprise anymore, now is it?"

"Yeah, it is. You don't know what it is, yet!"

"Okay, what is it, then?"

"Not telling you."

"So, let me get this straight." Kurt said. "You called me to tell me you had a surprise for me at home, and now you're going to make me wait to know what it is?"

"Yup!"

"You're evil."

"You love me!"

"Yes I do, and-" One of the elevator doors opened, and what Kurt saw made him take pause. "Blaine, I have to go, alright?"

"Okay, see you at home, sweetie!"

"Bye." Kurt hung up the phone and returned his attention to a more pressing issue.

Poppy Ramirez was one of Vogue's newest interns, fresh out of FIT. On any given day, she could be seen flashing bright smiles and laughing cheerfully while running errands for the designers. However, Poppy was standing in the elevator in front of Kurt, shaking and misty-eyed. Her usual sunny demeanor was dampened, and she was slumping. Rather than hop in the elevator, Kurt gently grasped Poppy's hand and led her into the hallway.

"What are you doing?"

"It's obvious that something is wrong, what is it?" Kurt led Poppy to a less crowded hallway, and into an empty room, populated with nothing but mannequins and racks upon racks of clothing in all different textures and hues.

Once he was sure they were alone, Kurt asked again. "What's wrong?"

Poppy, despite being obviously upset, giggled weakly. "You know, all the interns call you Dad for a reason." She smoothed out her cream-colored dress.

"Penelope, I'm being serious." Kurt said, rolling his eyes, trying to hide how honored he was at that title.

"I'll tell you, only if you promise to stop calling me Penelope." Poppy made a face. "That's something only my parents are allowed to call me. And while you're my work Dad, you're not the man who raised me."

"Alright, henceforth, you shall be known as Poppy. Now," Kurt hopped up on an empty table. "What's wrong?"

Poppy took a deep breath, shifting in place. "Well, I've been feeling under the weather for a few weeks now, so I went to my doctor to see what was wrong." She sniffled. "I have cancer."

"What?" Kurt was stunned and immediately worried. "If you don't mind me asking, what cancer?"

"Hodgkin's lymphoma. It was caught early, though, so hopefully, I'll be fine." Poppy found a chair and brought it near the table where Kurt was. She sat, and sniffled again. "My aunt and grandma both had it when I was younger. My aunt beat it, but my grandma…"

"You don't have to say anything, Poppy, it's okay." Kurt put his hand on her shoulder. "If it makes you feel any better, I know what you're going through."

Poppy turned, perplexed. "What do you mean?"

"Well for starters, I lost my mom to cancer when I was little, and my dad has had a few scares." Kurt paused. "And I beat cancer myself about ten years ago."

"You did?" Poppy asked.

"Yup. Same cancer that took my mom. The thing is, advances in medicine make brain cancer a bit more survivable. It almost killed me, but I wasn't about to go down without a fight!" Kurt chuckled. He was in awe of himself for being able to joke about something that had devastated his loved ones, namely Blaine and his parents. But, it had been almost a decade…

"My doctor says that a few months of chemotherapy should get rid of it, but won't that make me nauseous all the time?" Poppy questioned.

"Oh, yes it will. I'm not going to sugarcoat things, you're going to feel awful." Kurt got off the table and moved to help Poppy out of her chair. "But, if there's anyone that can handle whatever cancer has to throw at them, it's Miss Penel- oh, sorry!" He quickly corrected himself as she narrowed her eyes. "Miss Poppy Ramirez!"

"This is gonna sound really weird, but can I contact you when I'm feeling sick? My parents and I haven't spoken since I moved out, and I don't have a lot of friends right now. My aunt is calling me every night to talk, and she's amazing for that, but-"

"Of course."

"I know that I'm being awkward, and - what?" Poppy stopped mid-sentence and turned to face Kurt, who now had his phone out. "You're okay with me calling you?"

"I don't want you to go through this alone. Your aunt sounds wonderful, but do you have anyone close who lives here in the city?"

"No."

"Here's my number." Kurt handed his phone to Poppy, who then took out her own phone and added his number. Once everything had been sorted, Kurt asked, "Do you want to talk about anything else before I leave?"

"No, I think I'm okay for now." Poppy mustered a weak smile. Still far from what Kurt was used to, but it was something.

"Alright. Remember, call me if you need anything!"

"I will!"

Kurt turned to leave, but stopped himself. "Hold on, I think you'll need this."

"Need what?" Poppy asked, raising a brow and smiling. She let out a surprised squeak when Kurt pulled her into a hug. She stiffened at first, but relaxed after a few seconds, resting her chin on Kurt's shoulder. She stood on her tip-toes, wobbling slightly, and held Kurt's waist a bit tighter. Once both of them had stepped apart, Kurt saw that Poppy was misty-eyed again.

"Oh! Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?" Kurt panicked, unsure of what to do.

Poppy was quick to reassure him. "Wait, wait, no, I'm okay!" She laughed hysterically. "I'm just being sappy. I cry over everything!"

"Oh, thank god." Kurt sighed, and began to head towards the door, opening it and gesturing for Poppy to exit first. Once the two of them had made their way back to the elevators, Poppy continued past to a separate hallway, tearfully waving goodbye to Kurt. He smiled in response, waving back.

Ding!

Kurt looked to his left as an elevator reached his floor, going down. He watched as a handful of people left, while many more took their place, including himself. The long, crowded, downward descent gave Kurt some time to reflect and think.

—

February, 2029

"Daddy, can I play video games when Luke is done?"

Lizzie hopped up and down, and before Kurt could answer, his four-year-old daughter took a flying leap onto his bed, jostling him and the stack of papers next to him. Kurt loved his daughter to pieces, but with everything Vogue was throwing at him, he was stressed beyond belief. He rearranged the papers, and once again reassured Liz.

"I already said you could, Ladybug! Luke has the TV until three, then you can play."

"Okay!" And, as quickly as she had come in, Lizzie ran out of Kurt's bedroom. He smiled to himself, turning back to his laptop and finishing the work he had been doing. His head throbbed like it had since that morning, and Kurt's laptop screen had been dimmed to its lowest setting, which wasn't helping in the slightest. Pain meds dulled the headaches, but only for a little bit at a time. Kurt assumed that it was stress, what with the new job and all. Vogue was wonderful, but hectic and demanding, and Kurt never handled stress particularly well.

"No, Luke, you're doing it wrong!"

"You've never played this game before!"

"You ran away from where you were going before!"

"Lizzie, this game lets you explore wherever you want. There is no wrong way of playing!"

Ring, ring!

Kurt winced as his phone blared loudly next to him. He set his laptop to the side and answered, making sure to get Luke's attention, waving at him to close the bedroom door. Once it was quiet, Kurt spoke into the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Kurt, it's Dr. Cabrera." From the tone of her voice, Kurt gathered that she wasn't calling for good news. "We took a look at your tests, and we found what's causing the headaches and fatigue."

"And?"

"I'm so sorry to tell you this, but…"

Kurt felt frozen in place.

"We found a tumor. Anaplastic astrocytoma. We suspect it's a grade II right now, but we're concerned about how quickly it's growing. I would recommend an appointment to discuss treatment as soon as you can."

"Oh." That was all Kurt could say. All other words left him as he sat there, mouth open in shock and dawning horror. He stared at his closed door, listening to the muffled sounds of his children, once again arguing.

"Kurt, are you alright?"

"What?" Kurt realized he hadn't been paying any attention to his doctor. "I'm so sorry, when's the closest available appointment you have?"

"Tomorrow at 1:00 PM. Is that alright?"

"Yes, that's… that's alright. I'll see you then."

Before Dr. Cabrera could answer, Kurt ended the call, his hand heavier than lead. He gazed down at his now dormant phone, as though it were going to tell him what to do. He squeezed the device, and the volume buttons dug into his fingers. For several minutes, Kurt just sat and stared at nothing in particular, only accompanied by his increasing heartbeat and shaking breath.

After a while, he came to his senses enough to use his phone again. Kurt needed to call someone, or else he was going to burst into tears. Blaine was at the grocery store, and Kurt knew that telling him in person was unavoidable. He scrolled past his husband in his contacts, and eventually, he found someone he trusted enough with such frightening news. Kurt selected the name and held the phone to his ear, hand shaking. The phone rang.

And rang.

And rang.

Then, finally…

"Hi, Kurt!"

"Hi, Rachel!" Kurt managed to sound happy for a second, but it was a weak attempt. One that even Rachel saw right through.

"Kurt, are you- Scott, not now!" Kurt heard Rachel hiss at someone over the phone. "Are you okay? You sound odd."

"That's why I wanted to call. I'm not doing so well."

"Oh, no, is Vogue stressing you out? I know it was your second choice job, but I thought you liked fashion?"

"Rachel, that's not why I'm calling…"

"I told my agent that it was a no-brainer to take us both, but she only wanted me."

"Yes, Rachel, I know that, but-"

"I can't believe how stupid everyone acted after that article came out. Talk about mob mentality!" Rachel paused. "I tried everything I could to make that piece irrelevant."

"Well, thank you, but again, that's not why I called. I-"

"Oh, crap! I'm so sorry, Kurt, my agent is calling me, I have to go!"

"…Okay. Bye, Rachel."

"Goodbye, Kurt. I hope you feel better!"

And with that, Kurt heard Rachel hang up. He didn't think it was possible to feel even worse than before, but suddenly, he was tearing up. He swallowed, trying to get rid of the growing lump in his throat, and decided to call someone else. Kurt resumed searching in his contacts, and found someone he hadn't spoken to in a few months.

"Hey, Kurt, what's up?"

"Hey, Elliot. How are things?"

Kurt heard Elliot laugh. "Things are fine. The tour's going great. Why the call? You okay?"

"Not really. I have cancer."

"What?!" Kurt heard something fall over the phone. Elliot apologized, saying, "I'm making lunch and I just dropped my plate, sorry about that."

"I should be the one apologizing, I just made you lose your food!" Kurt managed a laugh.

"Don't you dare fucking apologize to me. I can handle making another meal, you have cancer, for god's sake!" Elliot paused again. "Is Blaine with you?"

"He's out grocery shopping." Kurt suddenly had a terrifying revelation. "Oh, no."

"What? Are you okay?"

Before Kurt could stop himself, more tears began to fall. "My parents. I have to tell my parents."

"Deep breaths, Kurt. Everything's gonna be okay. Do you want me to fly over to help out?"

"Elliot, you're in California!"

"And?"

Kurt was at a loss for words. He hadn't seen Elliot in person for years, and yet he was willing to drop an entire tour to support him. Kurt grabbed a fistful of the comforter beneath him and squeezed, feeling stitches under his shaking fingertips.

Knock, knock!

"Hold on a second, Elliot." Kurt moved the phone away from his ear, covering it with a hand. "What's up?"

"Lizzie won't stop bugging me!"

"Elizabeth, it's not three yet. Let Luke finish playing!"

"No!" Kurt heard his daughter shriek beyond the door. He sighed, returning to his conversation. "I might have to go, the kids are arguing."

"Put me on speaker so I can talk to them." Elliot responded. Kurt hesitated, then obliged, pressing the speaker button and heading into the living room.

"Can everyone hear me?"

"Uncle E!"

"Hi, Elliot!" Luke paused the game and put down the controller. "You touch my controller, you're dead." He pointed at his sister, who stuck her tongue out at him.

Kurt heard Elliot sigh. "That's no way to talk to your sister, Lucas."

"But she's annoying me!" Luke gestures towards Lizzie as though she was an insect he was trying to repel. "She keeps standing in front of the TV!"

"Lizzie?"

"Yeah?"

"I remember hearing your father say something about waiting until three."

"…yeahhhh." Liz deflated, sitting on the ground and pouting. "I'm sorry."

Kurt was dumbfounded as to how that happened so quickly. "I think you should say sorry to your brother, Ladybug."

"Sorry, Luke…"

Luke, being as kind as he was, replied, "It's okay! How about this? The game I'm playing is making me kind of mad, so…" Luke grabbed a game from under the TV. "MarioKart?"

"YEAH!" Lizzie scrambled to sit next to her brother, and with that, the bickering ceased.

"How?" Kurt asked Elliot. He made his way into the kitchen, and turned off the speakerphone. He nestled the phone between his ear and shoulder, and began to scour the kitchen for things he would need to make dinner. "You got them to be quiet in less than a minute!"

Elliot chuckled. "It's because they don't see me as often. Lizzie hasn't even seen me in person, just over video, and she loves me, so I knew she would listen." Kurt turned the oven on to preheat. "Kurt, are you going to be alright if I go? I can call you back as soon as I can!"

"Oh, it's alright! Enjoy the food you have to make again. Sorry about that, by the way."

"Stop! You're sick, and you're gonna be in for a bad time really soon. My food doesn't matter in comparison." Kurt heard a shuffle over the phone. "Okay, I'm gonna go. Call me if you need anything. And I mean anything."

"I will, I will. Bye, Elliot."

"Bye, Kurt." Kurt swore he heard Elliot get choked up before the call ended, but he couldn't be sure. Kurt sighed deeply, head still throbbing. He gazed around the kitchen, at the various appliances, shelves, and food that decorated the space. Kurt couldn't do much before Blaine came home.

Oh.

Kurt's heart ached with dread, on top of his already painful headache. Blaine was going to come home, looking forward to seeing him and the kids. His entire day was going to be ruined.

Hell, the next few months of his life were going to be ruined! Kurt lamented to himself as he rummaged through a cabinet of dishware to find a casserole dish near the back.

'What's the probability of me surviving?'

The dishes clanged, echoing in Kurt's sore skull.

'Will our health insurance cover all of the treatment?'

Kurt found what he was looking for, and began to pull it out from the back.

'What are the kids going to say?'

SMASH!

Kurt yelped and jumped back as one of the glasses toppled to the floor, shattering into dozens of small pieces. He looked at his feet, which were now surrounded by tiny shards. Suddenly, all he heard was a piercing ring, attacking his eardrums and overwhelming him. Kurt doubled over with a loud sob, reaching towards the counter to keep from falling on the now hazardous floor. He covered his mouth with his free hand, and almost immediately had his vision obscured by tears. The only thing that Kurt could do was focus on breathing steadily, which seemed impossible. He placed both hands on the counter, standing up straight, and tried to force himself to calm down.

"Dad?"

Kurt turned, alarmed. Luke was peering around the hallway corner into the kitchen, wearing a worried expression. His son began to enter the kitchen.

"Shoes!"

Luke stopped in his tracks. "Huh?"

"There's glass on the floor. Are you wearing shoes?"

"I am, yeah." Luke fully entered the kitchen and revealed the slippers he was wearing, kicking with a small grin. Kurt sighed in relief.

"Thank you for checking on me, but I'm fine." Kurt carefully maneuvered his way towards his son, stumbling.

"Dad, you're not wearing shoes! Why are you moving?!"

"What?" Kurt asked, baffled. He looked down and realized his son was right, his feet were unprotected. In his panic, it had escaped his mind.

"Can you go get my slip ons from my bedroom, bud?"

"Sure!" Luke scampered off, leaving Kurt awkwardly balancing in the middle of the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to wind down, which didn't work. After a moment, Luke returned with the shoes.

"Thank you, Luke." Kurt pulled his son in for a hug. Luke's arms had just gotten long enough to wrap completely around Kurt's middle, barely. He gazed down at the head of hair right underneath his chin, which was the same shade of brown as his own. He ruffled it, resulting in Luke giggling into Kurt's shirt. For the first time that day, Kurt's smile was genuine. Luke lifted his head to look at his father, confused green eyes meeting sullen blue eyes.

"Dad, does your head still hurt?"

"It does, yes."

"Is that why you're crying?"

The lump in Kurt's throat made an unwelcome return. "In a way, yes." He released his son. "Now, your job for the next few minutes is to keep your sister away from the kitchen so I can clean up. Think you can do that?"

Luke gave a goofy smile, and saluted. He turned and headed back towards the living room, stumbling. It was bittersweet, to say the least. Kurt knew from personal experience that keeping anything from Luke was going to end poorly, but he didn't want to scare him. Uncertainty and unpleasant memories followed Kurt like a shadow as he cleaned up the shards of glass and finished what he could of the dinner prep. Just as he set the last pan on the stove, Kurt heard the front door open and close behind him.

"I'm home!"

—

"Blaine, I'm home!" Kurt hung up his bag and looked around the living room. "Honey?"

Kurt began to venture into the living room before he was abruptly stopped by Blaine's voice. "Stay in the hallway, I'm not finished yet!"

Kurt was baffled. "Finished with what, dare I ask?" He leaned against the nearest wall, listening to whatever Blaine was doing, which involved lots of shuffling, clanging, and quiet cursing. Finally, Kurt couldn't bother waiting anymore, and entered the living room.

The room was almost completely dark, except for a few scattered candles around the room. The last one, sitting in the middle of the room on their dining room table, was unlit. Kurt knew instantly what Blaine had planned, and kicked off his shoes. The dining room table was only used for special occasions, because it normally took up too much room. As Kurt was sitting down in his chair, their bedroom door opened to reveal Blaine wearing black dress pants and a freshly ironed white dress shirt. He was fixated on adjusting his watch, and Kurt giggled at Blaine's frustration. Blaine looked up with a panicked expression.

"I told you to wait in the hallway!"

"My feet were tired!" Kurt exclaimed with a laugh, leaning his elbows on the table. "You look very handsome."

"Oh!" Blaine looked down with a sheepish grin. "Thank you! You're not so bad yourself."

Kurt winked at his husband. "So, am I required to dress up, or am I fine in what I'm wearing?"

"Oh, you're perfect. You don't have to change."

"Even if I want an excuse to show off a new outfit?"

Blaine paused, holding the lighter to the candle on the table. "If you want to, then knock yourself out…" Even in the dim light, Kurt could see Blaine's face flushing.

"Before I change, the kids, are they home, or…?"

"They're spending the night at Brit and Santana's." Blaine chuckled. "Apparently, Lizzie wants to watch horror movies with her sister."

"Luke knows to keep an eye on what they watch, right?"

"I already told him, yes." Blaine finished lighting the candle, and let out a triumphant laugh. Kurt's chest swelled with warmth at the sight.

After making his way to their bedroom, Kurt began his search for the burgundy blazer he had bought himself a few weeks ago. Paired with a similar colored pair of dress pants and a black shirt, Kurt believed it was worthy of showing to Blaine. He changed, and gave himself a once-over in his mirror. Kurt adjusted his glasses and messed up his hair a bit, then deemed himself worthy for his surprise date night.

Kurt opened the bedroom door to see Blaine setting the table. He looked down at the food and smiled. "How did you know I was craving French?"

"You mentioned it last week, so I thought that I- oh." Blaine looked up from his task and laid eyes on his husband. Kurt saw his moment and took it, spinning for Blaine with a small grin.

"You like it?"

"I-I do! A lot!" Blaine sat, and Kurt did the same. "But I think what really makes it work is how much you like it." He set his napkin on his lap. "You were practically glowing when you skipped out of the bedroom."

"Well, I do work for Vogue magazine…"

Blaine dropped his head with a laugh, and Kurt noticed something odd.

"Did you gel your hair?"

"Oh! Yes, I did!" Blaine nodded. "Only a little bit, though. And let me just say, I'm really out of practice!"

"That's not surprising, you haven't gelled since Luke was little." Kurt stared at Blaine with hooded eyes. "You look dapper."

"Thank you!" Blaine smiled widely, then tilted his head. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Why do you think?" Kurt raised his brows.

Blaine seemed to understand halfway through a sip of water. He coughed, and set the glass down. "Well, if I'm being honest, intimacy is kind of what I was going for after our meal."

"Why not before?" Kurt gave a coy grin.

Blaine pouted. "I'm really hungry."

"Alright, then!" Kurt grabbed his fork. "Let's eat."