Hi! Got back home today to find 15 emails. 15! The majority of those were from you guys. And yesterday? I got 1440 views. That's incredible. I'm already at almost 10,000 this month. I know I have been updating more, but... Thank you. That's incredible, and it means so much to me.

This chapter is dedicated to Lydia. I know you probably don't read this, but I want to thank you for introducing it to Paul, and me to him, and also apologise for still not replying to your email... Oops.

Story so far...

Gaga and Mercedes leave, leaving just Kurt and Blaine, who indulge in hugs in the living room when they should be heading to work.

-*T&C*-

Blaine's Tuesday had passed him by too quickly. He could remember arriving at work (late, because who was he to blame if he'd gotten half way there and decided he'd have to go back to pick up one of Kurt's hoodies because he'd now got Kurt's scent stuck in his mind and he's be damned if he had to go the whole day without it) and he could remember walking into the Aviary. Anything other than that was gone. He couldn't remember anything. And yet something had clearly happened. Because it was afternoon and his boys were all traipsing in for Warbler rehearsal.

And then there was Robert.

If possible, he looked even more tired than he had done the day before. His skin was pale and taut over his bones. His eyes were sunken and tired. And by his side, Peter didn't even care if he was going to be teased for caring; he watched his friend with wide, attentive eyes, as if at any moment he might just collapse or disappear.

The volume in the room dropped. There was no excitement about seeing their friend again; the boys were only concerned about saying goodbye. They were grateful they had a chance. And they too kept their eyes trained on him. Blaine knew there was to be no singing today.

He stepped to the side of the room and grabbed a chair which he set down for Robert to sit upon. "Thank you," was the instant reply. Peter stayed by his side, not wanting to stray even as far as the other side of the room to get a second chair, and nobody else seemed to know what to do with themselves. Blaine didn't know if he should take charge or leave the room. He settled for hovering. For now.

Tyler was the first one to do anything. He stepped forwards until he was standing in front of Robert's chair, and the mousey blond haired boy looked up at him. Tyler opened his mouth to speak, but words didn't seem to be able to make themselves known. Instead he sighed sadly, then leant down for a hug. "Thank you," he breathed against Robert's chest, as if the act of just holding him had been enough to get his confidence to be able to speak. "You have taught me so much. A-about being brave, being who I want to be. Um, I just wanted to... thank you." Robert hugged back. He wanted to tell Tyler that it was alright, that he was a lot braver than he thought he was. But he didn't. And he could only manage a tentative smile as the green eyes boy pulled away and disappeared back into the group.

Blaine had thought that one boy making a move would prompt the others to as well. He was wrong. If anything, they looked more nervous to go next, to say goodbye, as if a goodbye was something final and as soon as it was over, that was it: he'd be gone. And as everyone stood awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot, Blaine realised just how desperate all this was.

In the end, it was Robert who broke the fresh silence with a nervous cough and eyes darting about everywhere. "Uh..." Admittedly it wasn't a lot, but it was the first time anyone had spoken since Tyler. But as Robert found strength in being surrounded by his friends, he said more. "I don't know what Blaine has told you. About me. I don't... I have cancer. And it's bad. And I've been lucky that I've stuck around for this long. Sorry, that's..." Robert, perfectly put together Robert, who always knew what to say and was always good with words, suddenly didn't know how to speak. "You guys have been the best friends I could have ever wished for. And I'm not going to be sad because that time is coming to an end. I don't want you to be either. I don't want you to look back and remember me like this. Please don't remember me like this."

Blaine was watching the faces of all of his boys. They were all wide-eyed and staring scared. It made his heart break all the more. He wanted to run out of that room so he never had to see them suffer again. He wanted to find the miracle cure to make Robert better. He wanted the world to just stop moving so he could get off. And he wanted Kurt. He was so glad he'd gone back home to pick up the hoodie, and thought to put it on before he'd stepped into the room. He wondered how Kurt would feel if he knew his boyfriend had been wearing his sweater all day. Then he looked up again. He didn't suppose it'd matter.

"Life is beautiful. It takes you by the throat and makes you experience it full throttle. I only wish I had started looking at it in that way sooner, that I had had longer actually living life rather than just doing life. I don't want any of you to miss out like I have, okay? If I may be so forward as to say it... I want you to live your lives properly to give me the life I won't have. Never be scared of anything. Do what you want and romance who you need to. Because you guys? You're awesome. And I am just so blessed that I am able to say I spent two great years here. With you."

Robert's gaze dropped to his hands, clasped tightly together in his lap, and didn't lift again. It was like his neck had not the energy, his face not the desire. The silence settled again, and though it may have been easier to talk now, the awkward atmosphere never lifted. As each boy went up, they all gave Robert a tentative hug, a couple of hesitant words, before moving back into the huddle. It felt almost that, now everyone knew this was it - their final goodbye - they didn't want it to happen, as if it'd be safer not to day anything or say goodbye on the off chance that they would see him again. Goodbyes made everything so much more real. And no matter how many times Blaine had said that they were lucky to get the chance to say goodbye, nobody believed him, least of all Blaine.

And as for Robert, it was like he was a witness at his own funeral. He couldn't help but wonder if this is what it'd be like; was his funeral going to be black clothes and glum faces? He hoped not. But he suddenly realised that it was too late to plan his own funeral. He probably would have done, if he'd thought about it sooner, and if he didn't find the thought eerie and unpleasant. Besides, who was he to know if his requests would even come to anything anyway? He'd be dead.

Finally, after everyone else had said their goodbyes, Peter was the only one left. He seemed more hesitant that any of them, too afraid to say anything in case he wouldn't be allowed to go back home with his best friend, to get him settled in front of another one of his bucket list movies. But then there he was, ducking his head and wrapping his arms around his best friend, pulling him close. It was though he'd forgotten about everyone else in the room, else he didn't care. Peter Matthews was a boy who didn't care for anyone other than himself, who always put himself first, who had a temper that he wasn't afraid to show. But his best friend was dying. And death breaks down any walls that anybody may have built.

Nobody seemed to bat an eyelid when his wall of strength finally toppled and the tears started to flow. Blaine merely rested a hand upon his shoulder and let him know that they'd get through this together.

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