"Kurt," he says, cupping the other boy's face, wet with tears, in his hands. "Kurt, Kurt," he repeats, leaving quick, small pecks on his mouth, cheeks, eyes, forehead. "We need to go," he manages, but Kurt only shakes his head weakly, not even opening his eyes. "Come on," Sam says. "Come on, look at me - look at me," and he really makes Kurt look at him, and thanks God his eyes aren't empty. They are red from tears, full of pain, but he's still here and it means they have a chance. "I swear, we'll get out of here, but you need to come with me, stand up."
"Where are they?" Kurt asks quietly, almost whispering. "Puck… Santana…" His voice breaks when he reminds himself of Finn.
Sam shakes his head. "They are out," he says and helps the other boy stand up. "I have everything, a map, a knife, a key…" He takes the lighter out of his pocket. "We have a very little time, I didn't want to start the fire without you…" He tries to explain and swallows hard. "Okay?"
Kurt opens his mouth, like he is about to speak, but resigns and just kisses Sam quickly instead, just like a few hours ago in janitor's closet. He gives the other boy a little nod and they leave the cell, closing it behind them - just in case, no matter what the case would be.
Poetically, they start a fire in this janitor's closet exactly, the last place in the hospital that has seen their hugs and shy handholds, full of materials and paper, just excellent for this kind of arson.
And then they wait, hidden near the exit from their ward, the one for hard cases. They don't talk - it's too dangerous, and they probably shouldn't touch, either, but their fingertips are touching, and by this little touch Sam receives and tries to share all their feelings and thoughts, about Finn's death, about them, about what exactly they are doing, and hopes it helps Kurt at least a little bit, knowing, that he's not all alone, Sam is right here, tangible, perceptible, warm, alive.
The fire is discovered soon enough - Sam hopes Karofsky wasn't even found yet, but that might be a little delusional - and in a few minutes he could hear the alarm in the whole hospital, along with people's screams and other signs of panic (it's not a big deal, Sam tells himself, everyone is going to be fine, they are going to be fine, it must be done, I must save myself, I must save us, and then Kurt grabs his hand and Sam feels a little better) and, most importantly, the clash of opening emergency exits.
They get out smoothly and Sam feels his heart beating faster and faster and fulfilling with hope and then-

the warmth of Kurt's back in the night during cuddling, his pale body in the moonlight, the taste of their morning kiss, living in one house, evenings next to fireplace, snow, laying in the snow, laying in the snow together, fucking as loud as they want, holding hands, smiles, lots of beautiful smiles and wrinkles caused by these smiles, freedom and wind and sunshine and saying "bless you" after a sneeze and fights and the future and a whole bunch of other things that never happens;

-then he notices people in front of the hospital gate.
They obviously aren't aware of the fire yet, they are hospital attendants who went out for a cigarette.
"So… That's it?" Kurt's voice breaks. "Oh God…" He lets out a little whine realizing what's going to happen to them when they get caught.
Sam bites his bottom lip, he breathes heavily, tries not to forget how to breathe, and counts in his mind again, one, two, three, four…
And five. Sam opens his eyes. He turns to Kurt.
"It's not over," he says. "Listen." The other boy looks at him. "I'm going to go there and bring their attention and you-
"No," Kurt stops him. "I'm not letting you…"
"Kurt, please," Sam holds his hand again, but Kurt shakes it off, angrily.
"I lost today someone, Sam," he says. "I lost Finn. And now I'm supposed to lose you, too? What kind of fucking freedom is that supposed to be?" He blinks few times, but he's not about to cry.
"Yeah, you lost Finn - and that's exactly one of the reasons why you should go." Sam manages to put a little smile on. "You won't tell Rachel, like he wanted, but you can put the light on her grave. And flowers. Finn would like that, I mean— if he accepted her death in first place."
"Sam, I…"
"And you are so special, Kurt," Sam goes on, not letting him speak, he really can't hear him and his arguments right now. "I helped you find yourself, yes, brought you back to life - but that's it." He shakes his head a little. "You were for years in a mental hospital and you managed to find yourself again, even if it took a little help and some fresh blood. That's a huge deal. Remember when you told me it's not about me? Well, you were completely right."
A single tear leaves a trace on Kurt's cheek.
"Asshole," he hisses. "You can't use my words against me like this."
Sam smiles again and leans his hand on Kurt's cheek. "Just promise me you'll be careful. And that you will love again, no matter how cheesy it sounds, okay? I'm a sucker for romantic shit like that… And that you will live. You understand? No matter what, you will live. For me. For Finn."
Kurt takes a deep breath. "What if I stand up right now and sacrifice myself, so you can go?"
"You won't." Sam kisses Kurt, sweetly, deeply, meaningfully. For a second he tries to forget where they are and what he is about to do, he's trying to make the kiss special, like only them two mattered, like only they two were. "But that would be a waste. I wouldn't be able to take losing you anyway. Do this, for me, go. Please, Kurt."
"And you turn into a vegetable," Kurt says, trying to be snarky, but it fails.
Sam's expression goes serious. "Maybe I could use that," he says slowly. "You know, the whole deal with the dead family…" He swallows. "But, you know. On my rules and with my blessing. I'm not breaking."
"Of course you aren't." Kurt squeezes his hand, tears falling down his cheeks again. "I hate you," he says. "I hate you for doing that."
"I know," Sam takes a deep breath. "And I love you too."
Kurt kisses him again and they know. They know it's the last one.
Sam stands up, slowly, and leaves their hideout. The staff notices him after a few seconds and they start questions - who are you, why are you here, where are you going, what the fuck, aren't you the new faggot?
He doesn't answer though - not until he makes sure Kurt is behind the gate and no one notices him. The dark-haired boy turns around, for the last time, and their eyes meet.
And then Sam is ready to answer - he punches one of the paramedics in the face.

It takes some time to start a normal life after you run away from mental hospital, but, in the end, it's possible to achieve that, at least as much as queer person can. You find yourself a name, you find yourself a job, you find yourself home. It's a good thing Kurt didn't have to find himself; he already had that covered.
The first thing he did after he found all these things was also finding Rachel's grave - putting the light on. At least he could have done that. He promised, after all. And that was the easy part.
The hardest part was the rest of promises; but he was honourable, actually. He was about to keep them all.

Sam sits on a chair and closes his eyes with a little sigh as they put the belts on.
He has been pretty tired lately, anyway.
The last thing on his mind is Kurt's voice.