"I'm scared," Kurt confessed, looking up into Blaine's eyes. He didn't want to admit to his fiancé how truly terrified he was, but his stress level had pushed him over the breaking point.

"I know you are," Blaine said, rubbing his back. "No matter what, at least we'll have an answer." To be completely honest, Blaine was just as worried as Kurt was. The last two months had been filled with worry, tests, ER visits, and relentlessly trying to figure out what could possibly be wrong.

And to think, it all started with a headache. Kurt started getting a migraine at work one day, and it got so bad Isabelle was forced to send him home early, telling him to get some rest and come back after the holiday weekend.

Only it didn't get better. The severe pain persisted for four days nonstop, and Blaine dragged him to the doctor, only to get a change in prescription and orders to keep resting and call back if it still wasn't better.

It got better, but the headaches became more and more frequent, almost to the point where Kurt was missing at least one day a week from work. Blaine stayed on his case to make sure he didn't skip any medicine, but nothing seemed to help him, and things were quickly getting worse.

They both thought he had the flu at first. Kurt couldn't keep anything down, and just wanted to lie in the dark bedroom and sleep. Blaine stayed home for days at a time with him, trying to get him to eat something, anything. Other than feeling sick and the headaches, Kurt really had no other symptoms. No fever, chills, anything.

Kurt eventually starting feeling a little bit better, and was able to go back to work. Blaine thought whatever had been wrong was long gone, but their hopes were both dashed two weeks later. Kurt couldn't see well at all, and not even his chunky Ray Ban readers helped. His sight continually got worse to the point where it wasn't safe for him to drive, and soon after, he lost his balance, too.

He was cooking dinner one night, standing at the oven grilling some shrimp. Blaine sat at the kitchen table, working through their utility bills. Everything was fine, but in a split second, Kurt was on the ground. Blaine darted to his side, checking over his fiancé frantically to make sure he was okay.

"What happened?" Blaine asked, surprised to find him conscious and alert.

"I-I don't know," Kurt whimpered. "I tried to step, and I f-fell. My head hurts."

Blaine frowned. Something was very, very wrong. He helped Kurt up carefully, and helped him put his coat on.

"Where're we going?" Kurt asked, his knees trembling a little.

"Back to the doctor," Blaine told him, grabbing his car keys. "It's okay, we just need to find out what's going on."

The drive to the hospital was silent. Blaine's mind flooded with worst-case thinking, but he tried to fight it with his natural optimism. He just hated to believe that something was wrong with Kurt.

The doctors ran a myriad of tests, and Blaine tried to get them to let him stay with Kurt as much as he could. He knew how much his fiancé despised hospitals.

"I want to go home," Kurt grumbled, irritated after they decided to admit him for the night.

"We will soon," Blaine reassured him, even though he had no idea when they would let Kurt go home. There were so many questions they just didn't have answers to yet.

They let Kurt go the next morning, with promises to have blood test results and MRI images printed within the nest several days. The ER doctor had contacted an oncologist and talked with Blaine privately about the possibility of a tumor.

Admittedly, that had been one of his fears. Ever since Kurt's weird symptoms progressed, Blaine had scoured the Internet looking for answers, and he had just been waiting for the bomb to go off where one of the doctors mentioned it.

"It wouldn't necessarily mean it's cancerous," the oncologist told him. "But in most cases, it does. However, we're getting ahead of ourselves. We can have the official diagnosis in just a few days, and then we'll go from there. But just try to prepare him and yourself that we're going to do our best to treat him as effectively as possible, no matter what the outcome."

Blaine swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded, thanking both of the doctors. He took Kurt home, not wanting to think about it. He took care of his fiancé full time, trying to occupy every moment so he didn't have to dwell on what the doctors said.

And that was how they found themselves, three days later, in a tiny little doctor's office, waiting helplessly on the words that could possibly change the course of both of their lives.

The door clicked open, and Kurt nearly jumped out of his skin. Blaine put his hand on his knee to help him relax, even though they were both as anxious as they could be.

The doctor shook both of their hands, and then sat down across the cluttered desk from them. He had a large manila envelope with Kurt's scans and blood test readings. He pulled out the printings one by one, seemingly taking forever.

"Mr. Hummel, I'm afraid I have some bad news…"

Author's Notes:

I've gotten so many requests to do a cancer fic, and have tried to put if off as long as I could because I just really didn't want to go down that road. I kind of broke last night though, after rereading The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. (If you haven't read that yet, please please do it). Anyways, I decided to write this, even though it doesn't go into extreme detail, you still get the idea. Let me know what you thought!