Hey everyone! I am SO beyond sorry for the month long delay in updating this. My life has been chaos, but that is no excuse, as I despise when other authors do this. I hope you haven't given up completely on BitterSweet, although I would understand if you had! I actually had to reread the last few chapters to remind me of where I was. I do pledge to update regularly for the rest of this story (another few chapters) and I hope you are happy with the story. This chapter is a little rushed and maybe a tiny bit melodramatic..what can I say? I love the drama. As always, let me know what you think about this chapter..and thanks for being awesome.

It was the rain that woke him up.

Kurt couldn't believe he'd fallen asleep on the hospital stairs. He'd been on them for 12 hours now, as it was now 2 am and the previously clear skies had given way to an overcast night sky and gently falling rain.

Maybe it was a sign.

Maybe it was time to go home.

Standing; stretching his aching muscles, Kurt couldn't help but feel exhausted. Defeated. This wasn't what he had imagined or hoped for when he'd come to the hospital all those hours ago.

In the movies; the dreamy romantic films that he and Mercedes devoured during their sleepovers, the love stories never ended this way.

In those movies, the hero came at the last minute, to rescue the damsel in distress. Kurt hadn't imagined that Dave would come and find him at the stairs and rescue him, but he had hoped for at least a phone call. Something. Some way in which Dave would reassure his boyfriend that he was ok and not to worry.

Maybe that's the reason that those romantic movies were movies- because they weren't reality. Reality was setting in with each drop of cold rain that fell on Kurt's hunched over frame.

How many gay teenage boys in Ohio had a love story with a happy ending anyway? Kurt couldn't think of one.

Had he really believed that he and Dave were different somehow? Special? That they would be that one couple that survived high school and then college, and that they'd be sending out wedding invites and getting a toaster from Mrs. Flax and adopting a baby and..

Kurt slammed the door on his already exhausted mind, stemming the tide of negativity. He needed some sleep.

Maybe things would look better in the morning.

Why were people running up the stairs?

Kurt's groggy mind struggled to swim up from the depths of sleep and process the pounding sound he heard. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep on those damn concrete hospital stairs. The pounding must be people running up and down them.

He needed to get off these stairs before he got arrested, but they were so comfortable and…wait...comfortable?

The pounding resumed at full volume. And Kurt finally surfaced. Finally remembered that he'd driven himself home the night before, sliding into exhausted slumber in his comfortable bed (not stairs!), and locking his bedroom door in the process. He hadn't felt like answering any questions and intended to lock himself in and sleep the morning away.

The person pounding on his bedroom door apparently took exception to his plans.

Staggering out of his bed, still trying to process what was happening, he stumbled over to the door. He hoped it was his dad. Carol would not appreciate him opening the door in his boxers.

It wasn't his dad or Carol.

It was Mrs. Karofsky.

Kurt would have been less shocked if he'd seen the Pope standing at his door.

Mrs. Karofsky looked as exhausted as he felt. Dark rings circled her eyes, her clothing was rumpled as if to indicate that she'd slept a restless night in a less than comfortable setting, and her hand, still raised as though to continue the incessant pounding, was shaking ever so slightly.

It was that slight tremor that broke Kurt's reverie. And suddenly million questions rushed into his mind, and he tripped over his words, needing to ask her, needing to know...

"Is everything ok, Mrs. K? I waited outside; I waited to hear from you...is he ok? Is..."

Mrs. Karofsky was shaking her head, and tears had begun to spill down from her tired eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but Kurt didn't hear her. He didn't hear anything. Because he knew.

Oh God.

Dave was gone.

Kurt felt his knees start to buckle and darkness gathering on the edge of his vision. He didn't realize he was sobbing Dave's name. Screaming it. Didn't feel anything as he crumbled to the floor.

The darkness closed over him and all he could hear was the faint strains of that song, playing on repeat in his head...

And it's you and me…

You and me...

You and me...

For the second time that day Kurt was surfacing up from dreams, not sure of where he was or what was going on. He didn't hear a pounding this time, just an incessant beeping and hushed voices.

Life has gotten so bizarre, he thought, struggling to open his eyes, trying to make sense of everything.

The memories rushed back and his eyes flew open.

Dave was dead. Dave was gone. Dave was…

Lying on a hospital bed, looking at him?

Smiling actually.

Kurt didn't dare blink. Didn't dare look away. If he did, he just knew that his boyfriend would vanish.

Maybe he was hallucinating. He had passed out, hadn't he? Or dreaming still. This couldn't be real.

Staring into those beloved hazel eyes he couldn't stop the raw whisper that emerged from his throat, hoping that voice wouldn't break the spell.

"Please be real, please be real, please be re..."

Dave's voice; strained with emotion; cut into his whispered mantra.

"I'm real, babe, I am. I'm so sorry. I didn't know my mom had asked you to leave for the surgery. She told me that you were taking a much needed vacation with your dad. I told myself not to bother you, that you deserved a complete break from me. But then I saw you, Kurt. I saw you sleeping in the rain of those steps from my window, when I woke up last night. I…I..."

Dave's voice cracked, his smile showing signs of strain.

"I couldn't believe it. No one has ever loved me the way that you love me, Kurt Hummel and when my mom said that she'd sent you away so that it could be 'just family' I told her...I told her "Kurt is my family". I told her that she had to go and get you or that I would, and I would have, I swear, I'm so sorry that you were worried and that I didn't call and it killed me to see you sitting there all alone.."

Kurt's legs; still a little shaky, carried him over to the bedside of the other boy. This boy who had gone from enemy, to friend, to boyfriend, to...family. Dave; connected to tubes and IV's on the right side of the bed, moved his body over, making room for Kurt on the bed.

Kurt; who'd been planning only to reach for his hand, shook his head.

"No, you need space, you're healing..."

Dave's voice, still shaking with emotion, over rode his protests.

"You heal me, Kurt Hummel. I am so tired and I want to fall asleep in my favorite place. Your arms."

Kurt; trying not to succumb to the emotion in his boyfriends voice, trying to make the right choice for him, began shaking his head again.

But he was no match for Dave's whispered plea.

"Please...just, please. I need you."

Kurt; overcome with emotion, and against his better judgement, eased himself gently onto the narrow bed, wondering in some vague corner of his mind about who had dressed him and transported him here. He'd sort it all out soon enough. For now, he looped his arms carefully around the shoulders of his boyfriend, being careful to not disturb the tubes and wires he was connected to.

And immediately he felt it again. The same feeling that always came from being with this boy. This boy who had healed him too.

Peace.

Holding on to each other tightly, they drifted off to sleep.