A/N: Now is probably not the time to admit that I have little to no knowledge of the army, or what time this is set in so this is probably poorly researched but I did the best I could; I am just hoping you guys enjoy this last chapter though. I wanted to go out with a bang, so to speak. ;)

"Were you aware that homosexuality is a sin, Nurse Hummel?" Commander Lakes was visibly shaking as he shoved Kurt down in the chair opposite his desk.

Kurt shrugged off his meaty hands. "Well that depends on if you believe that there is a God or not, but I don't suppose we'll be getting into the logistics of that particular range of opinions.

The man's face reddened and he slammed his fist down onto the table. Kurt didn't jump, he didn't move. His heart was with Sam in the tent across the grounds and he couldn't seem to speak properly until he knew what was going to happen to Sam. Of course, he couldn't ask because that would just fuel the angry Commanding officer even further. So instead, he settled for saying nothing more.

"This is not a sex camp, this is not a dating ground or a hobby. This is war, Hummel!" Kurt grimaced as spit landed on his face, but he didn't dare move. He felt like he was back in school, back to being the scared boy, the boy who couldn't stand up for himself. "Unfortunately, you are one of the best nurses around this place and we can't afford to kill you."

Kurt blanched. He was no longer watching the man's chin wobble, or concentrating on gripping the edges of his wicker chair. No, he was terrified now.

"Your contract here lasts for another year then – and only then! – you will be sent home, is that clear?"

Kurt nodded once although he didn't quite understand what the man was saying. What did this mean for him? For Sam?

"You are on limited access in all areas and you will be forbidden to speak to the soldiers - "

"How the fuck am I meant to save their lives if I can't talk to them?"

"You will be on basic rations for the next month and I am giving you a bunk mate. No, ignore that, I am giving you guards, they will watch your tent while you sleep, documenting all of your activity - "

"What? But I am the best - "

"You will not speak unless spoken to. Do you hear me, Hummel?" Lakes was visibly shaking and his brow was dotted with sweat. Kurt pursed his lips and didn't say anything. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears and, despite his attempt at control, he was shaking too. "I said, do you understand me, Mr. Hummel?"

"Yes," Kurt bit out.

"Yes what?"

"YES SIR."

The Commanding officer didn't look at all alarmed at Kurt's raised voice – in fact, he didn't at all look intimidated by Kurt which made him even madder. "You know, I expected better of you Hummel," Lakes sighed. "I always knew you were … a different kind of man, but you are one of the best nurses we have. You've saved hundreds of lives and I've no doubt you will save hundreds more. I just wish you hadn't crossed that line."

Kurt was still shaking, his palms were sweaty and he could taste blood in his mouth from the men and their rough handling earlier. He had nothing left to say to Lakes. He wanted to talk to no one but Sam.

"I expect you in the nursing wing at tomorrow. For now, you've been demoted to assistant. I wish I didn't have to do that, but unfortunately Hummel, it's my job."

Kurt didn't even have the energy to fight. He didn't have the energy to argue or point out that having him demoted to assistant will only put more lives in jeopardy. He didn't bother pointing out that this was completely unfair or that love was love no matter what form it came in.

… Love.

Commander Lakes stood, popping his collar and hanging a cigarette between his lips to light. "You may go to your bunk now."

Kurt stood too, meeting Lakes eyes. "What happens to Sam?" he asked in a hard voice. For a moment, the Commanding Officer looked taken aback that Kurt had had the guts to ask the question but Kurt shrugged it off. He was Kurt Hummel and he would ask whatever the fuck he wanted. But still, Lakes said nothing. "What happens to him?"

"Sam will go back to fighting," Lakes said slowly.

"But he hasn't even healed yet!" Oh, Kurt wished his voice hadn't risen to a squeak, he wished he could sound calmer but he couldn't think about Sam going back onto the field. He'd have to say goodbye, he'd have to … "Will I get to see him again? Before he goes?

Lakes grimaced and Kurt knew the answer before it fell from the man's grimy lips. "I'm afraid not, Hummel. It's policy rules."

"Fuck the rules!"

"Hummel, you can leave this tent now with what littlefreedom you have left or you can keep talking to me like that and find yourself chained to your bed. Which would you prefer?"

Kurt span on his heel and left the tent.

Saving lives isn't so satisfying when you hate your own.

For Kurt, it wasn't about what was missing – although, that in itself seemed to be eating through his happiness – no, it was about what could've been. It was not the absence that killed him, but the potential. If only they'd done one thing differently, just one thing, then it all could've changed. He could be working alongside Sam right now, he could be working with him, standing together, sharing their secret – but this this was the army and they were never going to accept Kurt, or Sam, for what they were.

Instead, Kurt muttered about the right cotton to use for stitches to confused nurses. He dressed wounds and cleaned bedpans. He was being treated like a scummy assistant while still doing the hard work of the best nurse in this wing. It seemed people were treating him with a mixture of caution and coldness. He was used to the cruel remarks made by other soldiers, but now he had commanding officers and even some nurses muttering things at him. He didn't care though, he'd lost the will to care about anything now.

Every time he caught even a glimpse of a blonde soldier with a bloody face, his hopes swelled inside of him, it felt like he was a balloon, inflating from the inside. But it was never him, never Sam. The days dragged on, hours of dressing wounds and hoping for a glimpse, just a god damn glimpse of Sam. They seemed to mesh into each other, the days of work and aching bones and sore muscles.

Saving lives wasn't enough now, because he'd tasted Sam on his lips, he'd had that … fulfilment. That thing he'd been missing for so long, but then it was just wrenched away from him. It was like he didn't know he'd wanted it until it'd been taken away from him and now that it – now that Sam –was gone he wanted him desperately.

The nights were the hardest, though. They seemed to go on forever and Kurt hardly slept as it was, but having men standing outside his tent, stopping him from even going out to get air, pretty much cut off all chances he had of falling asleep. The anxiety was the worse – it happened most nights since he came to the army base – and he needed to see the stars to calm himself down. When he couldn't see the stars, he felt as if he couldn't breathe.

It had been a particularly hard day, today.

Not only had Kurt seen a man die in the early hours of the morning but there'd been an influx of soldiers coming straight from battle and there seemed to be an outbreak of some flu – not deadly enough to kill, but serious enough to set the hospital wing back a weeks' worth of work. He'd had arguments with the soldiers that guarded him whilst in the shower, he said that he wanted more freedom and they laughed in his face. They just made the usual argument that he was responsible for his own actions and it was his fault that he was in this situation in the first place.

He didn't even have the strength to argue with them, even as they made crude remarks about his slight body in the shower tent, or as they shadowed him back to the hospital wing, encouraging other soldiers to make even the smallest journeys across the courtyard hell. He'd fought with four different nurses about the best ways to administer pain relief – of which the supplies were dwindling disgustingly quickly - and he'd had to deal with an unsatisfied Commanding Officer about the state of the hospital wing and the fact that it could be considered unsanitary and untidy, to which Kurt promptly replied that he was not a cleaner, nor would he even begin to start wiping blood off the tent floor.

So, yeah, when Kurt dragged himself to his sleep tent, shooting a cold glance at the soldiers standing in front of it, the last thing he expected to see was Sam Evans hovering behind his bed.

He opened his mouth, unsure of what to say, of where to even begin – he just knew that he had to begin somewhere because there was so much that he wanted to say, so much he wanted to tell Sam, and why had the guards even let him in? – when Sam lunged forward, shoving a hand over Kurt's mouth and dragging him over to the far corner of the tent.

Kurt couldn't move – and well, he didn't particularly want to – because Sam gripped him from behind, his hands encircling his waist, pulling him close. Heavy breath heated Kurt's ear and fluttered over his cheeks and Kurt could feel the violent rise and fall of Sam's chest against his back. Oh god, this was heaven.

This wasn't real, this wasn't –

"Baby, I know there's a lot you want to say right now but you need to be quiet," the words wore hot and vibrating against his air, no louder than a breath of wind in the night. When Kurt looked up, Sam's eyes were trained on the tent flap, but his hands tightened around Kurt's waist. "There's a lot I want to say too, but we can't risk being caught."

Kurt spun around and Sam's grip remained tight on his waist, his fingers were digging into Kurt's hips, bruising him, making him remember. Kurt wanted to ask how, he wanted to ask why but he saw the tension in Sam's eyes, the desperation … It said everything.

"I'm being sent back out to fight tomorrow."

Again, the words were a hiss, barely even a whisper. They were a breath, now moving, dancing across Kurt's face, across his lips as Sam moved his face in closer, pulling him in tight.

The grief that flashed through Kurt was hot. It seared through his blood, singeing his nerves, burning up every ounce of hope he'd had about them getting through this. They couldn't. It was doomed, it was –

Once again, Sam Evan's was tearing through his thoughts and this time with no explanation. This time his lips were closing around Kurt's and his tongue was slipping into Kurt's mouth. Kurt's mouth was falling open and Sam was tasting him, smiling against his lips. This time Kurt's arms were around Sam's neck and Sam's fingers were sliding under the cotton of Kurt's t-shirt, gripping desperately at the porcelain skin underneath. This time there was no second guessing in the back of Kurt's mind because this time he knew what Sam wanted.

He also knew that this was a fleeting moment in time, one that would most definitely pass and one that was not going to have a happy ending.

And so, Kurt had to make the most of it.

His fingers were linked around the back of Sam's neck and he fought to catch his breath, desperately trying not to gasp when Sam began nibbling his bottom lip and pulling him even closer. A sharp intake of breath was all it would take, for the soldiers outside to come running in. An uncontrolled moan or whimper would give them away in an instant.

How was it that they were so exposed and yet so alone?

They didn't dare fall onto the bed – although Kurt could see Sam desperately fighting the urge not to throw him onto it. And so, they sank onto the solid rock floor behind Kurt's bed, letting out quick panting breaths and desperately trying not to make any noise.

Sam's knuckles were kneading patterns into Kurt's back and Kurt was arching at every touch, breaking away only when the kissing became too much. His eyes were locked on Sam's and he felt as if he was silently screaming everything he couldn't say … and he knew Sam was saying things back.

I'm sorry it had to be this way.

Sam knew that Kurt hadn't wanted things to begin like this – hadn't that been what their conflict was about in the first place? He hadn't wanted to be a quick fuck in the bathroom tent, or hiding away from the disgusting, small minded soldiers, but … this wasn't like that now.

Because this was feelings, this was passion and lust and – fuck it – this was love coursing through his veins. He couldn't speak for Sam, but this was exactly what he wanted right now because it felt like this was all he'd ever have.

And this was better than nothing.

He was chewing his lip so hard that he was sure he felt blood trickling into his mouth. Sam was trailing frenzied kisses down his neck, pausing to suck the skin on the nape of his neck or graze his teeth over Kurt's most sensitive spots.

Some of their kisses were angry – and Kurt knew exactly what Sam was trying to say with them. He was angry at this situation, angry at how it had to be. And some were so soft – just a brush of the lips, so gentle that all Kurt could do to stop himself from gasping was to bury his head in the crook of Sam's shoulder.

Every now and then, Sam pulled away, chest heaving, hands shaking as he tried to regain composure and not make a noise. For Kurt, it was strange to see Sam so controlled. Every move the soldier made was precise and every time one of the men let out even the tiniest hiss of breath, Sam would freeze, craning his head to see the outline of the soldiers outside leaning against the canvas tent. When they didn't move, he'd flash Kurt a relieved smile before diving in for another kiss.

There were rocks digging into Kurt's thighs and the floor was cold and dusty, but he couldn't care less because his legs were tangled up in Sam's and Kurt was stroking Sam's cheek and dragging his tongue over Sam's chapped lips. Sam was pulling Kurt closer, desperate to hold him tighter, have him nearer. His hands were clawing Kurt's back as Kurt smiled into Sam's mouth.

The truth was, he'd never felt better than he did right here. When Sam gripped him tight and grinded against him, Kurt let out a sigh.

Both he and Sam froze, their eyes flickering towards the soldiers outside. He could feel Sam's erection throbbing against his upper thigh, radiating heat all the way through his thin hospital pants.

Sam grinned because once again, they'd cheated fate and escaped being caught and he kissed Kurt again, making patterns in Kurt's mouth with his tongue.

The kiss was reaching that stage, the stage where no one turns back. Kurt was fisting Sam's hair, dragging himself against Sam until he was practically on top of the aroused soldier. Sam was slipping his hands under Kurt's shirt, grinding against him, pushing Kurt back into the ground. Kurt was aching, and bucking up against Sam. His mouth falling open in a silent breath and his hands sliding from the back of Sam's head to dig into his hips, pulling him closer; Sam's tongue was stroking Kurt's and Kurt's body was responding with every connection. Sam's breath was hot and tasted slightly of burnt coffee as his hands roamed Kurt's aching body, lingering in the places that had Kurt thrusting underneath him.

Not wanting to leave room for any lingering noise or hesitation, Kurt dragged Sam's shirt over his shoulders and trailed his fingers over Sam's muscled back. Sam shuddered against Kurt and that only encouraged Kurt as his lips danced down the skin of Sam's throat, brushing against the skin and pausing only as Sam shuddered against him.

But this friction wasn't enough. Kurt wanted more and so did Sam, they were grinding together but it just wasn't enough. Every time Sam thrust down, placing chaste kisses on Kurt's neck, and lips, Kurt thrust up burying his head into Sam's shoulder, desperately forcing himself to keep quiet. He was sure that he wasn't getting nearly enough oxygen but there was no other way around it. If he opened his mouth now, he was sure a low whine would just fall from his lips and then they would be caught.

Sam bent down, slipping his tongue into Kurt's mouth and thrusting hard against him and Kurt thrust upwards, rubbing Sam's thigh with his own. He traced circles over Sam's chest with his tongue, making the circles tighter and tighter until his tongue flicked over Sam's nipple, causing the soldier to fall completely apart on top of him. Sam's breath hitched at his let his head fall onto Kurt's shoulder, grinding against Kurt hard enough to cause the nurse's teeth to graze against his nipple again. Kurt was sure he'd make a noise soon, he couldn't handle this, how good it felt, how quiet they had to be – there was pressure building inside of him and it was getting too strong.

Sam's hands palmed Kurt through his cotton pants and Kurt could feel Sam's erection grinding against him. He felt like his was going to explode if he didn't come soon – but he wasn't sure how he'd come without yelling out. Sam seemed to be thinking along the same lines because in seconds, he stopped palming Kurt and his wet lips found Kurt's ear.

"Baby, we can't come together because I can't promise that I can keep quiet," his voice was ragged, exhausted with the effort of keeping every movement, every ounce of pleasure coiled up inside him. Kurt knew it was only a matter of time before that string unravelled and oh god, he hoped that moment was coming – no pun intended, he thought giddily – sooner rather than later.

And so, Kurt ended up gnawing the skin on Sam's shoulder, because Sam hand was finding its way under the layers of fabric and wrapping around Kurt's cock. Sam's skin was sheen with sweat and Kurt could taste the salt on his lips as he lapped his tongue over that sensitive spot under Sam's collarbone.

He nearly yelled out when Sam's face disappeared and he pulled off Kurt's shirt in one swift motion. Nearly.

And now Sam's full lips and oh god, he talented mouth were sucking and biting their way down Kurt's toned chest. He was so pale that his skin seemed to radiate in the darkness and in most circumstances, he'd probably be embarrassed, but right now, all he could think of was the swell of affection and lust he was feeling for the man on top of him.

When Sam's mouth lingered on Kurt's nipples, Kurt found himself mashing his lips together, squeezing his eyes shut and bucking against Sam, and desperately hoping that not a sound would escape his lips. God, his body was on fire. Every stroke of Sam's tongue or a graze of his teeth felt as if it was taking him closer and closer to spontaneous combustion.

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, he was nothing but a body – full of ecstasy, unable to release it or make any of the sounds that were bubbling up in his throat. Sam's nails tickled Kurt stomach, before slipping under the waistband of his pants and dragging them down. Kurt chocked down a groan as the cool air hit him and Sam wasn't making it any easier to keep quiet with the way he was stroking and rubbing every part of Kurt, trailing his tongue down below Kurt's belly button before finally tracing the length of his cock.

He was almost there already, desperate to come and thrusting hard against Sam. While Sam had one hand tracing circles on the inside of Kurt's thigh, the other one was sprawled over Kurt's chest. Kurt gripped it hard as Sam's full lips enclosed over Kurt's length, sending shocks up through Kurt's pelvis like electrical currents. Sam's tongue was darting over the tip, catching any precum that was leaking out before dragging his mouth up the underside of his cock. Oh god, right there, yes, fuck.

Kurt was clawing Sam's hand and chewing his lip so hard it hurt – he couldn't make a sound, he couldn't even breathe. He wasn't going to last long because Sam was good and he knew all the right places to linger. He was just … Ah, shit.

He moved his hand from Kurt's thigh to grip the bottom of his cock, squeezing hard and causing Kurt to slide fully into Sam's mouth. He was aching as the hot wetness closed in around him and Sam's tongue was making magic.

Jesus fucking Christ, oh shit. He was going to come, he was going to …

Kurt was sure he was breaking the skin on Sam's hand as his nails gripped him tighter. His eyes flickered down, only to meet Sam's wide eyes and that was it, he was done for. Sam's head moved as he took in the full length of Kurt's cock, his tongue sliding along the ultra-sensitive underside of him, squeezing hard and moving his lips as Kurt bucked underneath him. He was so close, he could feel himself teetering over the edge, desperate and ready, so painfully close …

Kurt let out a series of quick breaths – relishing the feeling of air in his lungs. He wanted to check the soldiers on the other side of the tent, he wanted to scream Sam's name, and he wanted to fuck Sam until Sam was a whimpering mess underneath him, instead, he slammed his jaw shut and gripped tight on Sam's hand. He was going to come, ah … That was it. Right there, oh god, never stop, never … He was coming, he was right there, he was …

With Sam's eyes still locked on his, he flicked his tongue down lower and Kurt thrust hard against Sam's lips as the fire turned to inferno in the base of his stomach and he spilled into Sam's mouth, shuddering hard as he came. And still, Sam kept his eyes one Kurt as Kurt rode out the orgasm. His hips twitching, his hand clinging onto Sam's as the waves of ecstasy crashed over him. Sam was not making a sound, not even a breath as he was flicking his tongue to clean up any mess. In a few last shudders and bucking into Sam's mouth, it was over.

Even in the clouds of darkness hovering in his vision, Kurt could see Sam's smile as he crawled back up to kiss Kurt. Despite the fact that he was absolutely spent, there was nothing more thrilling to Kurt than tasting himself on Sam's tongue. It was incredible.

Kurt lazily cupped Sam's ass, silently laughing as Sam's eyes fluttered closed. He was very aware that Sam was still hard, even as Sam gave him one chaste kiss and shrugged his shoulders as if it didn't matter. Of course it mattered.

And besides, Kurt wanted to see him come.

And so, without hesitation, Kurt slipped his hand under the waistband of Sam's pants, sliding his fingers around the curve of his ass before bringing them around the front and gripping Sam hard. Sam's eyes shot open, staring at Kurt with a mixture of shock and complete lust. The position was awkward, with Sam still on top of Kurt, but if Kurt could move his legs just right …

Yes. Sam's head fell onto Kurt's shoulder as he let out shallow, tiny breaths that blended with the sounds of the night. Kurt pumped Sam's cock slowly and his hips rolled into him, twitching already as Sam fought to control himself. Kurt was smiling and now understood why Sam had watched his face as he came. He wanted to see Sam's expression; he wanted to see him fall apart on top of him. He traced the length of Sam's hard cock as Sam rubbed against him, desperately trying to create some friction.

Kurt was all too happy to oblige. He squeezed hard and begin dragging his hand up and down, thrusting his hips up, to add that extra pressure Sam so obviously craved. Sam was shaking now, his teeth grazing the skin on Kurt's throat, desperately trying not to moan, trying not to even breathe too loudly.

Kurt could see though, in the way Sam's eyes were beginning to squeeze shut that the soldier was getting close.

"Sweetie, be quiet," he wasn't even sure if Sam had heard him, he was so quiet. Just a breath; but it must have had some effect on the soldier because Sam's eyes snapped open and met Kurt's. Kurt released his grip on Sam's cock, before squeezing again and then rapidly releasing. Sam was chewing his lip, his nails clawing Kurt's back as he trapped Kurt between his body and the ground.

Kurt trailed his fingers along Sam's length and with a violent shudder and one hard thrust, against Kurt's hand, and then his hips, and Sam came hard, snapping his jaw shut, and letting his head fall properly against Kurt's shoulder as his hips continued thrusting against Kurt's sticky palm, leaving him bone-dry.

Kurt smiled down at Sam, whose forehead was now beaded with sweat and was – quite comfortably, apparently – lying on Kurt. Kurt withdrew his hand from Sam's pants and reached up to suck one of his fingers clean.

At this movement, Sam's head snapped up and he smiled. It wasn't that cheeky smile Kurt was just beginning to grow used to. No, it was a different smile, it was …

I love you, Sam mouthed, reaching down to cup Kurt's face, brushing his full lips just gently against Kurt's.

I love you too, Kurt thought.

When Kurt Hummel woke up the next morning, reaching out for the warm arms of his lover, he realized that he was lying on the rocky floor of his bed tent and Sam Evans was no longer wrapped around him. Kurt's shirt was lying somewhere on the other side of the bed, his hair was covered with dirt and he sat up.

The sun wasn't up yet, but Kurt could hear the soldiers doing drills outside – presumably getting ready to go and fight. His heart sank.

Sam was nowhere to be seen now, the only evidence of ever being there was now caked and sticky on Kurt's right hand.

He was well and truly alone.

Kurt,

I had to leave after you fell asleep because, as tempting as it was, I couldn't risk falling asleep next to you. To ease your curiosity – because I just know that it's driving you crazy right now – I managed to sneak into your tent in the middle of the day. No one missed me, or noticed I was gone and I waited until both of the soldiers outside of your tent were taking their bathroom break before sneaking out. It wasn't easy, but I'm a soldier; I know how these things work, remember?

Last night was incredible, Kurt. It was the best night of my life and I promise you I will never forget. Whatever happens next, if I die in war, or if you become the world's greatest doctor, I want you to know that I will always remember, I will always think of the man I fell in love with in the army.

As ironic as it is, you are my strength and I don't want to drag you down. Whatever happens to me, to you, I just want you to remember us, as we were – a fleeting moment filled with passion. Don't be sad, if you never see me again. Don't be sad because I'll still be alive, in your memory as you will continue to live on through mine, burning and shining like the star you are.

When I am on the field, Kurt, facing men who are my enemies though I've never met them, I will not think back on us with regret. I will think of you, of us, as a miracle. We found love in the dark and you will continue to shine through my life, because you are Doctor – not nurse – Kurt Hummel and I will never, ever, forget you.

Your Love,

Soldier Sam Evans.

One year later, Kurt Hummel exited the Royal hospital in the state of Tennessee.

"Look, Kurt, this is how I see it: I'm hot, and you are the smartest man in the state. We're destined to be together, its fate."

Kurt was blushing into the phone. On the other end of that phone, there was a blonde nurse that went by the name of Jackson Baxter who was teaching at the local school in his free time.

"Look, Jackson," Kurt laughed. "You make a fair point, I'm sure, but … I would be dragging you into disaster. I'm just not ready for a relationship." The truth was, Kurt was beginning to wonder if he would ever be ready. Since his time in the army, and getting the job here, his heart always stayed with that soldier. That one soldier who was the reason Kurt that was now following his dreams.

On the other end of the phone, Jackson sighed. "Whatever you say. But you've got my number if you ever change your mind."

Kurt smiled. "Yeah, I do. Bye Jackson."

"Bye Kurt."

Six months after that, Kurt set down a beer in the local bar. Jackson Baxter was laughing next to him, his blonde hair falling over his face.

He looked like Sam, but then again, Kurt had already known that. If he was truly honest with himself, that's why he'd finally agreed to come out on this date. Dating life seemed bland after he'd experienced Sam Evans; even if it had only been for a moment in time, just a small moment, but the pressure of society, of his father and of his friends to begin dating was too much and he'd caved.

And yet, and yet. Kurt was defining himself on this one moment, on possibility, one recklessly abandoned path that life had let grow over with scummy weeds.

Maybe it was time to move on, maybe it was time to forget.

"I can't forget," he mumbled drunkenly against Jackson's shoulder. "I'll never forget him."

Jackson listen to Kurt as he rambled all night. Both men drunk far too much and by the end of the night, they were stumbling out of the bar. Jackson knew about Kurt's history in the army, but he didn't know about Sam. No one knew about Sam, not even his dad.

But now, he was letting it all fall out. Jackson listened as Kurt rambled in the back of the cab and even as he began to cry. He didn't want to forget, he wanted to remember and he wanted to go back.

"I'm sorry Sam," he mumbled into Jackson's shoulder. "I'm sorry I never found you."

Jackson didn't speak, didn't say a word as he supported Kurt on the walk to his one-bedroom apartment and Kurt had nothing left to say. He'd said it all. When Jackson pulled the blankets over Kurt's drunken body, he placed a chaste kiss on the doctor's forehead before leaving Kurt alone to cry.

Ten months after that incident, a roaring fight with Jackson Baxter which resulted in the ending of that particular friendship and many sleepless nights later, Kurt Hummel accepted the Grand Medic award on national television. He'd found a cure for a rare disease that developed in infected or untreated bullet wounds. It saved the life of an important police officer and Kurt gained the respect and love from the whole country.

According to the news program, Kurt had saved the police officer after a shootout in Tennessee.

And there was Sam Evans, who sat on his couch, in his small Tennessee apartment, smiling to himself and unconsciously grazing his fingers over the puckered scar on his chest. He'd known Kurt would go far.

It happened exactly three years after Kurt had been sent home from the Army.

Three years worth of questions and dreams, of pain and frustration, of moving on and falling back behind; it was three years of wondering if Sam Evans had died and then wondering how he'd died, and then wondering how he could've saved him.

Three years later, Kurt Hummel crossed the street, checking both sides of the road, as he always did, and then looking straight ahead, making sure there was no oncoming traffic. Today was any other day.

When he looked up though, he caught a glimpse of blonde hair. It was too blonde to be natural now, but still, Kurt's heart sped up, as it always did. He was used to it; hoping and dismissing and then forgetting. But still, his eyes followed the blonde man – who wore some comic book shirt and jeans – and of course this wasn't Sam, how could it be? Sam didn't wear that stuff, or …

The man turned and Kurt froze. He was in the middle of the road and suddenly his face was wet and he went back to that night where he couldn't breathe, couldn't make a sound because he – because they would get caught. Suddenly he was there and Sam was there and everything else was crashing down around them because the man he'd once loved was standing on the other side of the street and then he was running towards Kurt and Kurt still couldn't move because it had been three years and Sam was meant to be dead, and forgotten, but he was here and he was alive, and still, Kurt remained frozen.

He wasn't sure what he expected when Ex-Soldier Sam Evans came to a halt in front of Kurt. He still stood like someone who had fought in the army, alert of every movement, holding himself in a guarded manner. Not touching Kurt and ignoring the roaring honk of a car speeding past them.

Kurt couldn't tear his gaze from those eyes – Sam's eyes – because for three years, that's all he had wanted. For three years, that's all he had dreamed of and now it was here and the moment was real, and it wasn't over. It was …

It was –

"Hi," Sam breathed.

"Hi," Kurt choked out.

It was just beginning.

A/N: And that's it from me! I hope you all enjoyed it and I wanted to end it on a way that you could interpret what happened next, but you would still be satisfied with it! I'm sorry for the wait, but I hope it was worth it!

Thank you all for subscribing and reviewing, you guys are all the best! I honestly love you all. Thank you for sticking with me! :)