I'll Remember

by PurrfectStories

Kurt is sick in the hospital and his memory is getting worse every day. When he is finally told he needs surgery, Kurt is adamant about waiting until his husband, Blaine, can be there by his side. However, Blaine is a soldier away on active duty. Will he be able to make it home before Kurt's condition takes a turn for the worse? Soldier!Blaine and Tumor!Kurt (Major Character Death)

8. Perfect Place

Author's Note: You wanted another chapter? Oh I'll give you another chapter.

But seriously, I love you guys. This spontaneous chapter is my little gift to all you loyal readers and reviewers, because y'all are awesome and super duper sweet. And yes, this chapter is indeed split 50% flashback, 50% present. Ya know, give or take a paragraph or two.

Duet explanations:

Blaine (Bold)

Kurt (Italic/Bold)

*Both* (Italic/Bold/Stars)

Hope you like it and it makes sense! Let me know if it doesn't!

*WARNING* Triggers for night terrors, and anything that revolves around having a surgical procedure done. Specifically brain surgery.

Again, no beta. All mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, nothing. No profit made etc. See Chapter 1 for more elaborate disclaimer.

~C.J.

---

(Chapter 8)

Nightmares.

Or night terrors, whichever one would prefer to call them. It didn't matter what Blaine referred to them as, he just knew they were the worst part of his job. Not because combat was a walk in the park, but it made him feel as if he couldn't separate his home life from his work life. They plagued his dreams and had him waking up screaming in the middle of night on more than one occasion. The worst part was when they occurred with Kurt laying inches from him. When he slept on base, nightmares were a common occurrence. If a soldier woke up in hysterics, his bunkmates around him understood.

It's no secret. Blaine Anderson has witnessed death. Pulled the trigger on firearms. Because of him, lives have been taken. But innocent lives have also been saved. Blaine has witnessed fellow soldiers die. Sergeant Anderson has experience gratification in his job, and has also cursed the day he ever enlisted. He was content with the nightmares, accepted the fact that they came with the territory, but now it just wasn't fair.

It's been years since he's been deployed, years since his life has been on the line. Blaine knows he isn't in some obscure country on a foreign continent. He's in the bed he and Kurt picked out with the dark wooden frame and plum purple bed sheets. A little nostalgia they kept around from their honeymoon in Niagara Falls. They lived in Ohio, between Lima and Columbus. Blaine slept on the right side of the bed, closest to the door. He told Kurt it's because he liked sleeping away from the sun that sometimes filtered in through the curtains from their bedroom window, but really it was a safety thing.

Once they started living together, Kurt noticed a lot of little things Blaine did meticulously. The soldier couldn't sleep with his back to an entryway. No matter how late it was, he could never fall asleep before Kurt. He double-checks the locks on the windows and doors before going upstairs, even if Kurt has already done so. If they had guests over, Blaine made sure to check on everybody in the middle of the night at least once (even Burt and Carole). His wardrobe was color coded, down to the very last bowtie. Out in public he likes to place one palm on the small of Kurt's back rather than link hands. These were little things, but Kurt noticed them all. Some were adorable. Some were odd. And some kind of made Kurt want to rip his hair out. Like really? Kurt doesn't need his damn socks ironed.

But that was beside the point. If these habits made Blaine feel safe, or secure, or whatever their purpose served, Kurt was happy to indulge his husband in them. But nothing kept the nightmares at bay. The first time Blaine screamed in the middle of the night was the day after their Christmas dinner with the Anderson family. Maybe it was stress, maybe it was anger, but Kurt didn't ask. He just knew that his soldier was near tears and crying out in the middle of the night. Kurt was terrified. The paler male didn't know what to do, couldn't even make out the name Blaine was sobbing out. All he could think of was to reach over and gather the shouting man against him. He wrapped his arms around Blaine and kept whispering loving words to him in hopes that it would pass, that he would calm down. Kurt kissed Blaine's temple, heart ripping in two at the pain his soldier boy went through. Sometimes Kurt forgot about the toll it took on Blaine, especially when he hid it almost effortlessly.

It took another ten minutes before he began to come out of it, Kurt even having suffered one or two elbows to his abdomen with the frightened man's thrashing. Blaine hiccupped, sniffling and becoming frantic when he realized someone was holding him. Though, once he realized it was Kurt, Blaine broke down in his love's arms. Kurt held onto him tighter, allowing Blaine to let it all out. The whole ordeal had Blaine feeling very vulnerable, and apologetic for making Kurt endure that. The fear the blue-eyed boy had felt had been replaced with something else, something akin to protection and worry for his hazel-eyed sergeant. Both men never spoke about what Blaine dreamed of. He couldn't bear to repeat it out loud and Kurt couldn't find it in his heart to force Blaine to relive anything that frightened him so terribly.

Night terrors didn't happen often, thank goodness. Though, when they did, Kurt was always there. Sometimes it was just screaming, other times Kurt was awoken with a kick or shove from Blaine's frantic movements. However, the scariest one had been when Kurt woke up in the middle of night to the sound of something breaking downstairs. Blaine not in bed and lights still off, the taller male had been more than a little scared. He expected a burglar, Queen being nuisance, maybe even a rock through their window (again) from a disgruntled homophobe.

The couple still lived Ohio, people talked.

What he did find though, was Blaine being anything other than cute. Kurt had found his husband in the kitchen, some wine glasses shattered on the floor and a broken beer bottle held to his ear like a phone. The brunette was talking into it, mumbling and sleepily slurring words Kurt could only describe as orders he might give to his unit. No wonder it was so important to him the windows and doors were locked tight. Later on, the situation might actually start to seem funny. But right then, all Kurt wanted to do was cry. It took one sound, Kurt shouting Blaine's name for him to jolt out of his dream heavy sleep. Kurt spent the rest of the night cleaning the nicks on his sergeant's ear, courtesy of the pointy edges from the broken bottle. As always, Blaine was embarrassed and apologized profusely to his husband. Kurt never faltered, just always thankful that his love hadn't managed to hurt himself. Well, severely at least.

So when this one happened, it only took Kurt a minute to become fully aware of Blaine thrashing next to him. The chestnut haired boy didn't even wipe the sleep from his eyes, just bypassed the clumsy limbs and cuddled up behind the soldier's jerking body. He buried his face in Blaine's neck, only slightly gasping in surprise when he received an accidental elbow to his side. "Ssh, ssh." He lightly kissed the olive-skinned neck, words of love and comfort coming out almost as if on autopilot. "Blainey, Blaine. It's okay. It's gonna be okay. M'here." Kurt reached out to grab ahold of his husband's hands, gripping them tight and bringing them towards their bodies. "Not going anywhere. Always protect you. Love you so much. Just come back to me, baby. Wake up for me."

There was never a set time for how long it took Blaine to genuinely wake up, sometimes it was seconds, minutes, almost an hour one time. Tonight, it was maybe a minute. Kurt always realizes when it happens. One moment, Blaine is twitching and yelling incoherently. The next, his body becomes rigid and the room eerily silent. He makes sure never to disturb the stillness, always waits for Blaine to unlock and melt in his arms. When he finally does, he shudders against Kurt, sniffling quietly and urging his husband to wrap his arms tighter around him. And so, Kurt does. "You shouldn't have to do this…" He whispers.

Kurt only presses against him more fully, reveling in the warm skin-on-skin contact. "I want to."

"No, you don't." Blaine subtly wiped the wetness from his cheeks. "We're married. So you feel obligated."

"We weren't married the first time this happened."

"You cried."

Kurt sighed, careful as he turned Blaine over so they could talk face to face. He gave Blaine a sympathetic look when he saw teary hazel orbs, wiping the last remnants of tears from his olive cheekbones. "Yeah well, I didn't like to see you in pain. Still don't."

Blaine let out a pitiful whimper, reaching out to pull the other closer to him. Kurt sucked in a sharp breath when Blaine put pressure on his side, having forgotten the soldier had accidentally elbowed him none too gently a minute ago. Blaine quickly retracted his hand, staring guiltily at the porcelain skin. There would undoubtedly be a bruise later, and it would be his fault. Again. "Why do you keep letting me hurt you…?"

"You didn't! I—"

"DON'T Kurt." He pleaded, "Did I hit you?" Before Kurt could protest, Blaine grit out. "Don't lie to me."

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find the words, but for some reason he couldn't. Not this time. "It was…a flailing elbow. You didn't do it on purpose."

Blaine rolled away from Kurt, and sat up on the edge of the bed. "This has happened more than once, hasn't it? That first night…that wasn't the last time my night terrors harmed you." It wasn't a question.

Kurt sat up then too, slowly pulling his knees to his chest under the sheets. He hated the tension he saw in Blaine's back. "Maybe it has, but they're mostly my fault. I dive headfirst into your barrage of spazzing limbs. What else can I do to help you? Because I can't just sit by and watch when you get like that."

"Why not? You should."

"Because that hurts me more than any shove or kick could."

"I've KICKED you?" The curly haired man asked incredulously.

"ONE time, and it's not like you were aware of anything other than what you were dreaming of." Kurt laughed dryly, as if trying to lighten the mood. He tentatively stretched an arm out, pale fingers barely grazing a stiff shoulder. The man flinched, shrinking away from his husband's comforting touch. Kurt furrowed his brows; "You act as if you attack me or something."

"From what you've told me, I've basically done so."

"Now you stop right there, Blaine Anderson-Hummel." This time Kurt gripped Blaine's shoulder and forced the other to look at him. "What you've done is nothing like being attacked. I'm not a victim. You would never raise a hand to me. Never." He laced olive fingers with his pale ones. "I'm safe when I'm with you. Just like you're safe when you're with me."

Blaine shook his head, "What if that day comes, and I do attack you. I'll be asleep, and hurting you. What then?"

"You could never. I…God, do you actually want me to apologize for trying to comfort you? Because I won't. I'd happily protect you from anything, even from yourself."

"This is a problem, Kurt!" He shouted, sighing in exasperation. "Didn't I basically destroy our kitchen one time?"

"I would hardly call a few broken glasses a destroyed kitchen." Kurt mumbled.

"Stop making excuses for me." Blaine said sternly. "What happens when we have kids, huh? Would you even be able to trust me around them? I know I wouldn't. God, we're just lucky this hasn't happened when we've had your family or Coop over."

Blaine was waiting for Kurt to respond, staring into his glasz eyes that had gone comically wide at that point. "W-Wha?"

"Your family, Coop. I said—"

"Shut up! No, this? THIS is how you bring up wanting kids?! Are you serious right now?" Kurt screeched, not believing what he's hearing.

He blinked a few times, "I-I-I…shit." Blaine scooted over on the bed, kneeling before Kurt's befuddled form. "Fuck, no, no. This isn't how I wanted to talk about this, but…yes. Yeah, someday I do want us to have a kid, or two. Whatever we decide. W-When, you know, when we're ready."

Kurt felt his lower lip trembling, and his eyes become watery. "Blaine Devon, this is not how you ask your husband to have children with you."

Blaine chuckled dryly, sticking out his lower lip to pout apologetically and adorably. "Yeah, no. Bad timing on my part, and I'm sorry, but…I do. Kurt Hummel-Anderson, I want to raise a child with you."

"Like we don't have enough trouble with our diva, Sergeant McQueen?"

"What can I say? I want it all. The house, the job, the kids, the dog, and a rockin' husband by my side." He smiled, nudging Kurt's shoulder with his own. "You-You're my perfect place, Kurt."

The paler boy stared in awe for a minute, heart fluttering in his chest at his wistful reference, before confessing softly. "I've…actually never given much thought to kids."

"Well, maybe we should start thinking about it, and talking about it."

Kurt pursed his lips together, "You want to talk about kids, and yet, you can't even talk to me about your nightmares."

The soldier's smile vanished, "My nightmares aren't something I want to discuss. It's bad enough I have to carry them around inside my head. Forcing them on you wouldn't help either one of us."

"Is that so?" He let out a long breath, "Well, the least you can do is tell me what's causing the night terrors."

"Huh?"

"Don't play dumb. Whenever these horrible nightmares act up, it's because they've told you something big at your job. So…what is it?" Kurt stated bluntly, raising an eyebrow when it looked like Blaine was going to try and deny it.

Blaine huffed out a breath through his nose, knowing that his husband had him cornered. "It's a mission. They've a-asked me to go on a mission."

There were several beats of silence between them. Blaine not being able to look him in the eye for fear of his inevitable freak out, and Kurt staring at the side of Blaine's face while he processed the words his husband just spoke. "A mission. Like, active duty? Overseas?" he breathed.

"Essentially."

"And do you…w-what do you want to do?"

"I…I'm not sure. I told my Sergeant Major I'd think about it before giving a definite yes or no."

Another beat of silence, shorter than the last, but a lot heavier. "You're waiting for an answer."

"I…what?"

Kurt's jaw ticked, "You're waiting for me to either give you permission, or tell you that you can't go."

"Uh…"

"I'm not gonna do that."

"Oh…kay?"

"Look, I can't tell you whether or not to do this. It's not my place. What I can do is support you in whatever decision you make." Kurt's eyes started to water again, and he hugged his legs closer to sniffle into them. "It's all I can do, right?"

"Baby," Blaine snuggled closer, wrapping his arms around his husband. "If you don't want me to go—"

"You're not hearing me. What I'm trying to say is…do YOU want to go?"

Hazel eyes blinked owlishly, "And leave you? No, NO. I'd never want that."

Kurt unwrapped himself from his makeshift ball of pity, "If I wasn't a variable, would you go?"

"But, you are—"

"Blaine." He said softly, really not trying to start an argument. "Just tell me the truth. Would you say yes, if it wasn't for us?"

"Without question." Blaine said flatly, deflating and siting down right by his husband. Both were sort of staring at the comforter in front of them instead of each other. "I'm REALLY close to becoming a Sergeant Major. Like, a couple years close."

Kurt let out a dry laugh, "What you've been working for all this time." He turned to Blaine, forcing a smile even as tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. "You wrote me when you became Staff Sergeant. I was there when you earned Sergeant First Class, Master Sergeant, and now you'll be Sergeant Major. I couldn't happier, or more proud of you."

Blaine was confused. Kurt was telling him how happy he was for him, and yet, it looked as if he wanted to cry right then and there. "Then why do you look so sad?"

"Because I'm going to miss you like crazy." Kurt crawled into Blaine's lap, hugging him tightly. The soldier embraced the slender male, wrapping his arms around him to hug the man to his body fiercely. The two lovers stayed that way for a comfortable length of time, both content to be in each others arms as the two came to terms with the next step they were about to take in their lives.

"I'm gonna see a psychiatrist."

Kurt nearly fell off his lap when he jerked back. "What? I never asked—"

"I know," he cut off. "But I want to do this. For you, for us, and for myself." Blaine only smiled softly at Kurt's shocked expression. "You say you're fine whenever one of my…episodes…happen, but I know deep down they scare you. They scare me too. It's not fair that you have to endure it when I experience them. This is no way to live, Kurt. Especially now that yes, you are a variable in my life, my most important variable actually. And I wouldn't have it any other way. So thank you for being the most amazing understanding husband I could ask for and calming me down during my not so coherent moments, but I'm not going to let this control us anymore."

"My Gaga, I love you so much." He leant forward and gave his soldier a sweet peck, smiling uncontrollably as their noses bumped.

Blaine chuckled breathily, reciprocating his husband's kisses. "Your friend Quinn is a doctor now, right? Think she could recommend someone?"

Kurt nodded, rubbing his hands up and down his soldier's bare chest. "Think I can give her a call." The taller male pushed against the other's torso until he was lying on his back, lap still full of Kurt. "Just promise to come back to me, like you always do." He kissed his way down Blaine's neck.

"A-Always." He gasped.

"Then we'll spend an OBSCENE amount of time together, ya know, before my brave sergeant has to go off and be a hero to people other than me." Kurt continued his descent downwards, determined to kiss every inch of peck and abdomen.

"Oh God, yes. Yes, of course." Blaine watched, transfixed as chestnut brown hair went lower and lower. "Whatever you want…"

"And Blaine?" He looked up devilishly, resting his cheek on one of Blaine's abs. "I know I changed the subject earlier but, I think we can do it."

"It?"

Porcelain cheeks turned pink, embarrassment coloring his features for a reason Blaine wasn't really too sure about. "Have a baby, silly."

All traces of arousal left Blaine that instant. Well, not so much as left as was put on the backburner for now. "Are you serious?"

Again, his cheeks colored. "Yeah, I may not have ever really thought about it intently, but with you? I don't know. You always seem to know me better than I know myself. If you seriously believe we can, then why not right? If anything the kid will have you for a father, and I think that's pretty terrific already."

Blaine effortlessly yanked Kurt back up, pressing their lips together and kissing him fervently. "I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you."

Kurt giggled against Blaine's lips, shuddering un-expectantly when his husband pried their lips open. He squeaked when Blaine rolled them over, pressing him into the purple pillows and sheets. "Blaine…" Kurt keened, wriggling his hips unhelpfully when Blaine tried to slip the sleep pants off his alabaster hips. "We can't. Not with Queen still in the ROOM."

"What the…is he still freaking asleep?!" He asked disbelievingly, looking over at the massive Akita sleeping on his Chewy Vuitton doggie bed in the corner. Lower half propped up by the bed and upper body flopped out on the floor, teeth still clamped around his favorite Christian Loubarkin squeaky high-heel shoe plushie. What? Queen had an online shopping problem. Don't act so surprised. "That dog is lazy and useless why did we decide to keep him again?"

Kurt smacked Blaine's arm, "Be nice to my baby! He may not be the sharpest, but he's mine and I love him." He whistled over at Queen, who jerked his head up immediately. He yawned exaggeratedly, dropping the shoe plushie from his mouth. The full-grown dog trotted over to their bed, jumping on it and worming his way between Kurt and Blaine. Effectively pushing Blaine to the other side of the bed, while Queen snuffled and snuggled next to one of his owners. "Aww there's my big boy." Queen yawned again and stretched happily, pushing Blaine a little furtherer away. He licked Kurt's cheek before blinking up at him with his big dark eyes.

Blaine glared, "Cock-block."

Kurt laughed, sitting up to kiss his pouting husband's cheek and scratch behind Queen's ears. "All right you two. Since everybody's up, might as well have an early breakfast." He swung his legs over one side of the bed, getting up and padding over towards the hallway.

"Oh! Oh! Kurt! Kurtie! Baby! Funny face chocolate chip pancakes! Funny face chocolate chip pancakes! Please, please! Pretty pu-lease!" Blaine begged, hopping out of bed and bouncing gleefully after his husband. Queen barked excitedly and followed after them, having learned that no matter what time they got out of bed, food was soon to come once they've gone downstairs.

Kurt rolled his eyes affectionately as he made his way down the stairs. "I'm married to a five year old."

---

Blaine poked his head in once the nurse was done prepping Kurt, smiling at his scowling husband. "What's with the long face, beautiful?"

Kurt huffed and turned to hide the left side of his head. "I'm hideous, go away."

He chuckled, strutting over and half sitting on the bed. "Well, 'scuse my French, but I call bullshit."

"Wanna bet?"

"Kurt, just stop being a baby. You could have an extra head and I'd still love the fuck out of you."

"Fine." Kurt turned around and revealed the shaved portion of his head, pouting cutely when his soldier started snickering. "I'm going into surgery! You're supposed to me nice to me!" He smacked Blaine's arm. "Meanie. I demand sympathy."

Blaine muffled his giggles, reaching over to huggle his grumbling love. "Aww, sweetheart. This is what you're all bent outta shape about?"

"I've been maimed. My well cared for locks have been horribly disfigured."

"Kurt, this? This is nothing." He gently grabbed Kurt's chin and turned his head sideways so he could get a better look at the portion of hair that has been shaved. Soft lips pressed against the newly shaven skin, making the blue eyed man gasp at the pleasantness. After he pulled back, he pecked Kurt's forehead. Completely undeterred by the adorable little bald spot his husband now sported. "Its just hair. It'll grow back."

"I-I know. It's just…I didn't want the last time you see me be with a missing patch of hair." Kurt frowned.

"First off, it's not the LAST time I'll be seeing you." Blaine rubbed his nose against Kurt's, his chest rumbling with laughter when the paler man wrinkled his own nose at the action. "Second, the only thing I'll be thinking of is my extraordinary husband, fighting for his life while they remove that pesky tumor causing trouble for his temporal lobe. Or was it frontal lobe…shit."

Kurt giggled. "You've been talking to Quinn."

"Guilty. I've also visited the waiting room…" He trailed off, smiling empathetically when Kurt groaned. "Now, now. It's really not as bad as you're thinking."

"Really? So they all don't hate me and aren't avoiding my room like the plague for fear that I might verbally attack them again?"

"Well, it's almost time for you to be wheeled off to surgery. So…really all of them crowding your room with their worry when you're about to be taken in is kind of unhelpful I'm guessing." Blaine shrugged. Boy had an answer for everything. "But, we'll have to pass the waiting room before heading to the OR, where they'll be waiting. And that's not just a guess. They love you. We all love you. A little thing like a sharper tongue than usual isn't going to drive them away from you that easily."

Kurt blinked up at Blaine, looking more scared and childlike in that moment than he has in years. "We?" He asked meekly, hopefully.

The sergeant genuinely smiled them, ignoring the opening of Kurt's hospital room sliding door in favor of kissing his husband on the lips. "We. I'm going to be with you until the last possible second Kurt Elizabeth." He confirmed, standing up when the nurse began raising the bars on Kurt's bed.

"Are you ready, Mr. Hummel?"

"Hu-Hummel-Anderson, please."

"Of course. Are you ready, Mr. Hummel-Anderson?" The nurse he didn't recognize asked politely.

"I…I…I-I don't. Bl-Blaine? Can I do this? I don't think I can do this. I can't. I really can't." Kurt pleaded, on the verge of tears. "M'scared. Don't make me. Please, please, don't make me." The blue-eyed boy started shaking, almost hoping his husband would tell him that he really didn't have to.

"Hey, hey." Blaine cooed, gripping Kurt's hand and leaning over one of the rails. He swept chestnut hair away from Kurt's flawless forehead with the hand that wasn't clasped in the other's, brushing his lips against his love's temple. "Come What May," Sergeant Anderson whispered.

Kurt stilled in his panic, glasz fixed on hazel when those three words were spoken. "What did you say?"

"Mr. Hummel? Mr. Hummel-Anderson? Are you sure you're ready to proceed?" The nurse cautiously went around the bed, trying to be as non-threatening as possible as she prepared it to be rolled down the hallway.

"You remember, don't you? The song we had playing as you walked down the aisle when it was just us? The one we danced to a year later at our belated grandeur wedding/reception for our friends and family?" Blaine inquired, watching as recognition and emotion gathered in his beloved's eyes.

"Moulin Rouge." He said, barely above a whisper. "It's our movie…o-our song."

His soldier nodded, "No matter what happens, no matter how bad things get, whenever you hear it or when you sing it or whistle it or hum it, then you'll know it'll mean we love one another." Blaine quoted perfectly, giving Kurt's hand a reassuring squeeze.

Kurt knew what was coming.

He really did.

But he still teared up.

Never knew I could feel like this

Like I've never seen the sky before

Want to vanish inside your kiss

Everyday I love you more and more

Blaine's gaze flickered away for a moment, nodding at the nurse, letting her know Kurt was okay, that he was ready.

Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing?

Telling me to give you everything

Seasons may change…Winter to Spring

But I love you until the end of time

He brought Kurt's soft hand to his lips, sweetly kissing it. The next few lyrics were whispered out against the pale hand, the warm puffs of air on his skin giving Kurt goose bumps.

Come what may

Come what may

I will love you

Until my dying day

Blaine gave Kurt a brilliant smile, the breathtaking one he always gave when they were about to sing together.

Then the bed started rolling.

*Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place*

*Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace*

*Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste*

*It all revolves around you*

The soldier tapped Kurt's nose affectionately, warmth settling in his chest when an adorable giggle escaped the pale man's lips. His glasz eyes gazed up at Blaine adoringly, nothing but absolute love reflected within them.

Kurt was comfortably settled against the pillows, eyes becoming droopy, but fixed on his husband. He smiled lazily at Blaine, singing softly along with him. Because this was THEM, this was their song.

*And there's no mountain too high, no river too wide*

*Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side*

*Storm clouds may gather and stars may collide*

The bed came to a stop next to the waiting room; everyone he had snapped at earlier was there, just like Blaine has said. Queen was whining next to Carole and Burt, jumping to try and get near his human. The Andersons were there, Sharon still trying to dab at her eyes. Her husband had his arm around her, and Cooper looked like he was actually trying to comfort his mother with the way he was squeezing one of her shoulders. Surprisingly, Rachel was indeed still there. Even more surprising, she was wrapped up in Finn's arms.

He only looked over at them when Blaine gestured for him to do so. "This is my stop, babe." The sergeant had said simply. Kurt blinked up at everyone, somehow finding it in him to wave with his free hand, almost sheepishly, apologetically.

Burt just patted Kurt' shoulder, letting him know that he was okay, that everyone was okay. It must have been enough, because then Kurt gave them all a smile, a real genuine happy smile. One they hadn't seen in weeks.

Kurt turned back to his husband, squeezing their hands together tightly. Because it was time now, time for them to let go.

But I love you

I love you

Until the end

Until the end

*Of time*

The bed started rolling again, the women in the group chocking on their own sobs and the men trying to stay strong. Blaine's body didn't move to keep up with Kurt, but he outstretched his hand to keep physical contact for as long as possible.

*Come what may*

The boys felt every warm drag of skin against one another, Kurt doing the same to hang on for as long as he could. Until it finally happened, their last exchange, the touch of their fingertips.

*Come what may*

Blaine didn't even try to hide the tears as they dripped down his cheeks. He kept his arm reaching for his love, and kept singing, even as the double doors closed after Kurt disappeared through them.

*I will love you*

Kurt didn't know how, but he could still hear him. He could hear the last of their song, which was why his lips kept moving too, finishing the last of their duet. His hand was limp against the pillow, still facing the direction where he had been detached from his other half.

*I will love you*

Sergeant Anderson looked over at his and Kurt's joined families, acknowledging each and every one of them, even his estranged parents. "Thank you."

Kurt felt as if he was in limbo for the duration of his trip to the OR. He kept his eyes closed and rested contently against the pillows, feeling pretty okay for the first time in a long while. Once he was in the OR, a doctor or a scrub nurse of some sort was speaking to him, letting him know they were ready. Someone put an anesthesia mask on his face, told him to count backwards from one hundred. Of course, like many others, he only made it to ninety-seven. And just like that, he drifted off to sleep.

There's just one thing.

Asystoles are a bitch.

---

A/N: Google asystole if you're not too sure what it is.

And come on, guys...COME ON. You know this. Come What May. Moulin Rouge. Need I say more? Also, Chewy Vuitton and Christian Loubarkin are legit products. Not even joking. They're all cute and way out of my price range. Anyways, back to my original updating schedule. Till next time! Review?