AN: So basically I thought up all of this and wrote about half of it before I saw Big Brother and then afterwards when my cooper and canon-cooper were different I tried to fix it but I wasn't going to write it all over again.

Warnings: character death, gore, angst, crossover with supernatural, weird stylistic choice.

The words wrap around him, pulling and tugging at his skin with hooks, they sink their claws in and tear at his flesh until he's nothing but broken bones and screaming words. You're going to die they shout gleefully, vindictively as he traces over the cuts and scrapes.

They hiss at him at thirteen, when he's thrown into lockers and beaten and blue and bloody you're going to die but not yet. They jeer at him at the Sadie Hawkins dance when he's not beaten but destroyed within an inch of his life, when his head smashes against concrete and paints the ground red, when he's in a coma for three months and in physical therapy for another six you're going to die but not yet.

not until we want you too.

It happened like this:

Blaine's dad wasn't normal. For one, if Blaine was lucky then he saw him maybe three times out of the year. Dad called sometimes, wrote less. But some part of Blaine, the kind who still views his traveling father as someone deemed important, thinks he loved him deep down. In reality Blaine doesn't think he loved his mom, or Cooper (who wasn't his son but someone else) and Blaine has never seen anything close to love from his dad.

His dad use to be able to love. He knows because he's seen the pictures. In his dad's wallet are two faded, two very old pictures. The first is of a smiling woman with blonde hair and a gorgeous smile, the second are of two little boys. One is older than the other and in the picture they're grinning widely, arms wrapped tightly around each other. On the back of the first picture is simply Mary and on the second is Dean and Sammy 1987 Bobby's house.

Blaine has seen his dad stare at the pictures when he thinks no one is looking. He sees the way he smiles, actually smiles at them. Blaine has never seen his dad smile at him that way.

One year the year he is eleven, almost twelve, Dad stops coming. The letters and phone calls as infrequent as they were stop and Blaine thinks he should mourn for the man but all he feels is dull acceptance.

It would have happened eventually.

This is not the story about his father. This is not the story how his parents met or how Blaine lost his father but learned to be better because of it. This is the story of how Cooper Arthur Anderson almost died and then miraculously recovered. This is the story of how Blaine Jonathan Anderson made a rash decision, one he wouldn't change for the world. This is the story of how Blaine Jonathan Anderson met a boy and fell in love, a love that doesn't happen every day, a love that should have lasted for a lifetime (and in one party's case did).

Simply?

This is the story of how Blaine Jonathan Anderson dies.

These are just the facts leading up to it.

It starts with something simple, the way these stories always do, something that later will be looked over for a much more obvious cause.

Some would say it started with a car and a drunk driver.

Blaine would say it started with a box.

After dad stopped coming around, Blaine's mom decided it was time for a change. She was the kind of person who believed that change was only for the better. And so four months later they were moving into their new house—a nicer house in a nice neighborhood with a nice lawn. For the first time in his life Blaine had his own room, a prospect that to a twelve year old was highly appealing.

Cooper didn't complain either.

It only took them a day and a half to unpack—Anderson were nothing if efficient—and Blaine was setting up glow in the dark stars, hey at twelve glow in the dark stars were cool, on his ceiling when cooper walked in, a large box in his arms.

Without saying anything he set it down on Blaine's bed. Blaine frowned looking inside the box. It was full of old thickset books, with dust covering most of them and obscuring the covers. "This isn't mine." He protested, thinking it might be some of his mom's scrapbooks or worse family albums. Like he really wants to see pictures of naked two year old Cooper. (From between the ages of two and four Cooper was always in some state of undress, Blaine thought it was probably practice for his teen years)

Cooper shrugged. "The note says otherwise." He said bluntly and then left without saying another word or even complimenting Blaine's stars.

Blaine, always curious, searched the box for a note and eventually found one, on the cover of the first book.

Blaine,

Stay safe

-Dad

He snorted. Four words. All he got after eleven years of being as best of a son as he could have been, after putting up with all the missed visits, all the days he'd waited by the phone for hours for phone calls that never came, after everything and all he got were four freaking words and a box full of dusty books.

"Blaine, come down for dinner!"

And Blaine didn't think about the box that would change his life for another five days.

Mom had a date that Saturday. Some nice lawyer guy named Robert or Charles, something posh and upper-class and not at all like any of the men she had dated before. They'd been seeing each other casually for about two months now and at this point in time Lena Anderson thought it was serious enough to warrant meeting her sons. Not to say that she wasn't nervous because she was. Her boys could be a bit…intense.

"What did I say?" she said, taking one last look in the mirror. William would be here in five minutes and she needed to cover this with the boys quickly. Cooper sat on the couch, sitting in a way so there was one small spot available and on the other side of the couch Blaine was sprawled out on a chair. They'd been fighting again, about something ridiculous, but apparently they had decided to ban together to intimidate her boyfriend.

"Lock the door as soon as you leave." Cooper said even though he was old enough that locking the door wasn't entirely necessary.

"Order a pizza when you get hungry." Blaine added. "no fighting about toppings. Flip a coin and then move on."

She smiled at them in approval. "What else?"

"Do your homework and then you can have fun."

"Go to sleep on time."

"And?" she said at last, as they glanced at each other with disdain.

"Take care of your brother." They said together, the one actual rule of the Anderson family. When people left you, passed you by, all you could count on was family and she'd tried to instill that rule in her boys as best as you could.

The doorbell rang and she ran to answer it, a beaming smile on her face. She knew William was different. He wasn't like Matthew (Cooper's father) and he wasn't like John, or the men that came after them or the men that came before them. Things would be different this time, better. She just knew it.

For the next fifteen minutes they made a) awkward small talk b) sarcastic thinly veiled insults or c) both at William who wasn't quite as bad as they had pictured but still nothing special. By the time mom had left Cooper had grown bored with the whole endeavor, "He's not gonna last a month." He said triumphantly. "He's too boring for her."

Blaine shrugged uncomfortably, not as willing to make snap judgments. "I'm gonna go upstairs, call me when it's pizza time." He said being considerate and allowing Cooper to have the tv instead of fighting over it for twenty minutes and then losing because Cooper was older and stronger than him.

Really not even fighting just saved time.

His room was mostly bare. The weather was still as slushy as it typically was in the middle of March in Westerville, Ohio and Blaine didn't think playing soccer by himself was worth getting hypothermia so Blaine sat up in his room and tried to think of something to do.

After half an hour he grudgingly admitted defeat. Blaine kicked at the floor in frustration and was more than shocked when his foot hit something hard.

"Damn." he cursed and then instinctively flushed, glancing around but realizing that his mom wasn't home and he was safe.

Now more curious than irritated he leaned down to see what it was and couldn't fully hide his disappointment at seeing only the box. But Blaine, always curious, always eager to learn and eager to read Blaine remembered all of the books in the box. It may have been from da—John but at least it was something for him to do.

He pulled the first book, the old green one with the note stuck on its otherwise blank cover, out of the box and so he started to read and read.

At first, with the way it started talking about demons, ghouls, fairies, and werewolves he thought it might have been a fantasy book or maybe a companion novel to some fantasy series he hadn't heard about. Blaine had always liked fantasy books and he appreciated the fact that his dad had remembered that much about him, had considered it important enough to actually remember.

But quickly he realized that whoever wrote the book had been very serious. Evidence a) the book was written like a guide or a text book. Evidence b) there was more books exactly like it in the box, each of them detailing rituals and protocols, all more crazy than the next.

Blaine closed the book with a snap, suddenly realizing that he was getting far too involved in something so stupid. If Cooper came in right now he'd laugh until Blaine dug a hole and hid in it. "So my dad's a Satanist and a deadbeat. Charming." He muttered shaking his head.

Some present.

Still the books however weird and lame, however so stupid and impossible drew something in him. Whether it was some lost feeling for his father or just because he was bored Blaine kept reading the books.

Maybe Blaine was just incredibly, impossibly stupid.

The box and the books didn't matter at first. Blaine didn't believe in them, not in the slightest and he kept reading them mostly for sentimental reasons. It didn't matter at all, wasn't even relevant that six months later he'd all but memorized them. In fact he doubted they would have mattered at all if it hadn't been for Cooper.

It happened almost seven months to the day they moved in. That detail is not important and he's not lying about the not-importance either, he just remembers that it happened seven months to the day. He figures out later that it's this thing. When you look back instead of focusing on the big traumatic details that everyone expects you focus on the smaller things, like the color of the book you were reading or that it was seven months to the day.

You focus on the things that hurt the least.

Mom was out on this lunch date with William who to Cooper's frustration had stuck around. The brothers had spent most of the morning watching tv, too lazy to do anything else, even get up to get food, and finally around noon Cooper got up and went out to get a pizza.

Blaine was home alone when they called.

He remembers that and he remembers the phone call Is this Lena Anderson? No? Is this another family member? Oh…you're her son. [Static: the sound of voices muttering in the background] I regret to inform you that your brother, Cooper Anderson, has been in a car accident. What? [Static: "I think he's having a panic attack] Calm down son, he's not dead but your brother is in critical condition and he's at the Boulevard hospital on Memorial Street. Son, take a minute to breathe. That's it, in and out. In and out.

Everything after that for the next forty-five minutes is a blur of grey space and white noise. He doesn't remember calmly calling his mother, he doesn't remember running to the hospital, he doesn't remember anything until he's standing in the ICU and staring at his brother through a glass window.

He's in real bad shape they say. Three broken ribs, one of which punctured a lung, head trauma, possible internal bleeding and brain swelling. Six bones are shattered, including the ones right under his eye and it makes the socket look distorted.

All Blaine can think is that Coop is so going to freak out about his appearance when he wakes up. Pretty boy is always narcissistic, always hogging the mirror in the bathroom and taking forever to fix his hair to look good for that girl he likes (he thinks her name is Cecelia but he can't remember.)

But they say he might not wake up. They don't know when he'll wake up they say. If he'll wake up. Because it's the ICU, visiting hours are shorter and they wait in the regular lobby, the nurses giving them pitying looks as if Cooper's fate is already sealed, as if his brother is not a fighter, is not an Anderson which is basically the same thing.

Lena Anderson does not fall to pieces, she does not break. She shatters. And seeing his mother, this strong, confident, wonderful woman—wonderful human being who dealt with two men who didn't deserve even a second with her, who raised two kids on her own and managed to get a nice house, a job with decent hours, seeing this magnificent woman shatter, physically shatter into shards of tiny pieces is what causes Blaine to break.

When his mom is fast asleep, some twelve hours later, out of sheer exhaustion and a lack of resource of caffeine, Blaine sneaks away to the hospital rectory. It's empty but somehow staring at it all it feels claustrophobically full.

Blaine isn't religious, not really. Mom usually worked Sundays and when she didn't they'd spend time together. But he still walks inside anyway because this isn't for him.

He sits down on one of the benches—they're called pews, aren't they?—and looks around not so much nervously as awkward. "Dear God, umm…is that how you start this? I'm terribly sorry if I'm doing this wrong, this is kind of my first time doing this. My brother is here in the hospital, his name is Cooper Anderson—you probably already know that and I was hoping you could heal him." There's this girl in his class, Melissa O'Conner and she's real religious. She always talks about God-with-a-capital-G and miracles and Blaine thinks about that for a minute. "I want—er I was hoping…" he trails off, frustrated.

"I need you to do a miracle." He says finally to the silent room with its suffocating, empty benches. "I know that's not very polite and I'm sorry but I don't want you to do a miracle, I'm not just hoping you do a miracle, I need you to do a miracle. I need you to heal my brother. I physically, emotionally, mentally need him to be alright."

He wishes he remembered anything Melissa O'Conner had ever said to him, surely something had to be relevant, but all he remembers is tuning her out, the way most people do. "I'm prepared to make a deal if you do this." He said pleasantly, trying to be his most charming. "If you heal my brother then I'll clean my room, I'll go to church every Sunday, even afterschool if you want. I'll never swear ever again in my life and I'll never talk back. I'll get a job and donate all my money to charities and orphans and puppies, I'll spread the glory of your name for the rest of my life."

Blaine took a breath, prepared to make his closing argument. Prepared to give away something he hadn't even let himself admit, not even late at night when he couldn't sleep, when he couldn't do anything but think and think and think. "And I'll even do one other thing. If Cooper lives, if you really do give me a miracle then I promise I'll never think about another boy again. Not Tommy Aldrin, not anybody else. For the rest of my life and all you have to do, in return for all of these things I'm offering you is let my brother live."

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

"That's fair, isn't it?" he said to the empty room.

Blaine waited for a moment longer and then got up. "Amen." He said quietly at the last minute, before he headed back to the waiting room, stopping to pick up his mother some more coffee and a candy bar.

Cooper's test results come back the next day.

His prognosis has gotten worse and is dropping.

They talk to his mom about life support, long-term care, what Cooper would have wanted. All of it like he's not lying there in a coma.

Blaine walks out of the room in the middle of it.

This is how it happened:

He goes home for the first time in a week and a half. He takes a shower and eats some bread, nibbling at it but not actually eating it. Blaine cleans the house but most of it is already spotless and just because he doesn't want to stop and think he cleans again.

And then Blaine goes and walks into Cooper's room. Cooper's room is off limits, no younger siblings allowed. Period. But Blaine goes in anyway because what does it matter? Cooper's in a coma, he's dying and it doesn't matter about the stupid rules anymore because his brother is dying.

He pulls back Cooper's comforter and then crawls into his bed, curling up in a tiny little ball. His only defense against the world.

Blaine wakes up a couple hours later. If he dreamed then he doesn't remember it. Blaine stares at the wall for a while, this weird dark blue color that's almost black and really kind of awful but Cooper insisted on it, argued with mom for days about it.

Eventually he has to get up and he does, but instead of doing something productive he goes to his own room with it's perfectly normal shade of green walls, his neat bookshelves, his nicely stacked clothes and Blaine just destroys it, hitting and batting at everything he can get his hands on.

It's not that he's angry it's just that he has no other outlet for everything else. Blaine's just mad at the room, you see. He's not angry at the doctors, or the drunk fucking bastard who hit his brother, or Cooper who should have just fucking got delivery but didn't, and he's definitely not angry because he offered up a trade and someone thought it wasn't fucking worthy enough for him to keep his brother.

He's not angry at all so he keeps smashing and hitting everything until at last the anger dissipates in this sudden rush of hopelessness, Blaine tries futilely to cling to the anger because anything is better than defeat but it goes out of him anyway and now he's sitting in a trashed room and his brother is still dying.

Blaine just lets out this sigh and just lets himself go limp, falling back to the floor and resting in the now ruined pile of his things. In front of his eyes black squiggles appear and he moves back allowing the words to come into focus and his eyes widen as his heart stops.

Maybe there's a different kind of deal he can make.

He learned about crossroad demons in the third book in the box. A red one with a ripped up cover and water stains on various pages causing some of them to get stuck together.

Blaine doesn't believe in the words in the book (at least he thinks he doesn't.)

But… he doesn't believe in God either (at least he thinks he doesn't) and he gave that a shot. The least he can do for Coop's sake is try one more thing.

It takes him fifteen minutes to look up where the nearest crossroads is. And then it takes him five minutes after that to find his library card.

He buries them and waits, nervous and excited and hopeful and scared all at the same time. He's read the books, he knows what's going to happen but this is for Cooper.

"Did someone get lost?" a feminine voice says and Blaine turns around. She's dressed in all black, casual but alluring and Blaine supposes to someone who wasn't…to someone who was straight and like girls, she would be considered above attractive but all Blaine can focus on is what she is.

"No." he says after a minute. "I'm here to make a deal with you." It would be more affective if his voice wasn't on the verge of cracking.

She laughs this cold husky sound that might have been supposed to sound charming but just sends chills down his spine. "I don't make deals with infants."

Blaine frowns, "I said I want to make a deal with you." He says more firmly, clearly. "And if you're not fucking able to do it then I'll find someone else." Before he can leave, before he can so much as move she's right in front of him, her eyes flashing and her beautiful face suddenly terrifying.

"Someone's got a dirty mouth." She purred out. "But deals are deals, and a deal coming from a hunter's son is always interesting."

He ignores that part. It's best to just focus on Coop and his deal for right now. He needs to think clearly or she might trick him.

"My brother is in the hospital, in a coma and slowly dying. I want you to save him. I want him and my mother to have nice and long fulfilling lives." He said stressing the long part. "That's it. I don't want money or talent or sex, I just want my brother."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "And you know the cost of such a deal, I'm sure?"

Blaine took a deep breath, forcing the words out. "My soul." He said quietly, unable to take the raw, painful edge out of his voice.

She grinned at hearing it, feeding off of it the way all demons did. "Very good little Winchester, I guess you're a chip off the family tree."

"Anderson." He corrected.

"Hmm?"

"My name is Anderson, not Winchester."

She waved a hand at him dismissively. "Same thing to me. A hunter's son is good contract."

"I guess I'll be seeing you in ten years then." Blaine said, confused.

The demon tisked at him. "Uh-uh. Not so fast. Ten years is for an average deal, this one is special and special deserves its own kind of time limit."

"How long do I get then?" he said frustrated.

She considered this for a moment and then at last nodded to herself. "Five years to this day."

Blaine gaped at her. "Five?" that was half of what other people got. He'd only have five years to live his life. How could he accomplish anything worth remembering in five years? In five years he'd still be here, he'd still this closeted thing. He was never going to fall in love or travel or become famous or any of the other silly little dreams he'd had, they were all dead now.

The demon shrugged. "Five is plenty of time. Take it or leave it."

This was for Cooper. This was for his brother. He could do this. "Fine, I'll take it." He'd really done this. Hadn't he? He was really going to sell his soul for Cooper.

She smiled at him, beautiful sharp teeth and all. "Time to seal the deal with a kiss." He crinkled his nose, not only was his first kiss with a girl—a woman, but more importantly it was with a demon, she ignored him and leaned forward, closing in on his space.

Blaine closed his eyes and thought about his brother. This was it. This was his last chance to back out. But…what kind of person did that make him if he backed out on his brother? The Anderson always took care of family.

Cooper is worth it. Cooper taught him how to ride a bike, how to climb trees and when he fell and broke his arm Cooper carried him back home, Cooper encouraged him to sing even though boy's didn't usually sing and even if they fought Coop always tried to support him even if he was being a jerk about it because that was just how brothers were—the crossroads demon's lips pressed against his and Blaine didn't move away.

Cooper was worth it.

. Interlude.

He needs to stop for a second. He'll get back to the story in a minute. A different part because he's already told all of the good parts about his mom and Cooper. But maybe if you ask him nicely he'll tell you more about them.

He'll tell you about how when he went back to the hospital his mom took one look at him and knew. He's not sure if there was something different about him that wasn't there when he left three hours earlier or if it was just motherly intuition but she knew. He knows she knew because she took a look at him and paled, eyes widening and whispering, "Oh Blaine, oh my baby what have you done."

You want to hear more?

How about when Cooper woke up? When his brother miraculously recovered and realized a short while later that Blaine had done something, that his little brother had saved his life. How he couldn't handle the knowledge, couldn't handle that his little brother had done something so…big for him, and when he left for college a few months later he moved halfway across the damn country to get away from him and Blaine's only seen him a handful of times since.

Not enough?

How about when his mom married William a year later and suddenly Blaine was at a new house again, at a new school and this time he was all alone (How about how for the first time in a year, Cooper showed up and he barely said three words to Blaine at the wedding?) How Cooper wasn't there when they bullied him before coming out? In a way that was kind of a good thing. He realized there wasn't a point in hiding, he knew when he was going to die, he knew he'd survive whatever they threw at him. But he couldn't have counted on how his mom looked at him different. Oh she still loved him but she was afraid of him for what he'd done and she was afraid for him because of who he was. What about how William tried to accept him but it didn't really matter, Blaine wasn't his son after all. Blaine didn't have a father.

No?

How about the Sadie Hawkins dance? When for the first time, he thought he really was going to die before a demon claimed his soul and dragged him to hell, how afraid he was. How much it hurt, how badly he bled and the entire time he kept hearing that voice in his head you're not going to die yet.

Too much?

He wants to apologize for how long this story is taking. But really, if you think about it's not actually that long. Technically you're asking for someone's life wrapped in neat little paragraphs and he's giving it to you. Do you realize how hard it is defining someone's life in pages? There are things you have to consider that you don't before you start writing. You have to consider what's important and that's a damn important job deciding what part of a person's life is important.

Blaine's glad he only has to do this once.

Anyway on with the story. That's the part you came for isn't it?

Or has he already talked about the part(s) you came for?

I mean, he's already covered the big things. Don't act clueless. This is the story of how Blaine Anderson died and you've already got the answers. You've got the why—sold his soul to save his brother's life, the how—through a box of ancient magical-esque books, and consequently a demon, and more importantly the when—five years from the day of Cooper's accident so July 12th, 2012, five-thirty-six pm.

That's it. That's the story. That's all the important parts. You can leave now if you want to. He won't take offense. You don't need to stay here for the rest of it. Rest assured everything happens according to those three answers. Nothing will change if you leave.

But.

There are other things that you might want to hear. Like Kurt because even though Kurt isn't a why, or a how, or the when he's still important to the tragic tale of Blaine Anderson's death.

That's what they don't tell you about the hows, and the whys, and the whens. That you can't see the whole picture; you can't see what was good about it or what made it special. You just focus on the answers and don't realize the other parts that are important. The ones that in someone's eyes, someone like Blaine Anderson is the important answers.

So this is the question you have to ask yourself. You know the answers to Blaine Anderson's death, you have those already and the rest of this doesn't matter. Not at all. But do you want to hear the answer to Blaine Anderson's life?

Yes?

Alright then.

Let's talk about Kurt which incidentally is one of Blaine Anderson's favorite subjects.

I.

Blaine meets Kurt when he has 673 days left, roughly short of two years of life. Blaine, idiot that he is, spends ninety-three days not realizing how important Kurt was to him. In his defense Blaine's had a bit of head trauma over the years and he's sure a few brain cells have been rattled off.

Still.

Even when he first met Kurt he knew there was something special about him. Despite clearly being nervous, despite being beaten-down and overlooked, Kurt was still so bright, so full of life that it was impossible for Blaine to understand how someone like Kurt existed at a school so full of hate like McKinley.

In retrospect it's easier to see that even at the beginning his feelings about Kurt have always been…intense to quote his absentee brother.

You know what they say about hindsight.

Admittedly a part of his obliviousness, his refusal to even acknowledge the acknowledgement of his feelings was because he was scared. He'd never met anyone like Kurt before, he'd never met someone so strong and so fierce, someone who even with their worst traits (not that Kurt essentially had bad traits, just some that might take some people time to get used to) could make Blaine fall so in…friendship with. Because that's what they were at the start; friends.

Part of it had been because of the deal. For the past three years Blaine had taken his impending death not with acceptance but just complicity. He was going to die. Everyone died and so what if he was going to die sooner than some people?

The complacent about his death spread to everything else. Bullies beating him up, being shoved into lockers and walls, coming home with a bruised face and bloody knuckles every day. So what? He was going to die. Nothing mattered because pretty soon he was going to die.

So that's why Blaine never bothered fighting for anything because at that point nothing mattered. That's why things went on for as long as they did even though he knew they were getting bad.

But after the Sadie Hawkins dance he realized he couldn't let himself be like that. His conundrum was that he couldn't let himself get attached either. Because like it or not, accept it or not Blaine was going to die.

The solution came because of the Warblers. Being a part of a group like theirs allowed him to mold himself into who he needed to be to survive the next few years. Blaine was two people essentially. He was the person who was friendly but distant, offering advice but not actually helping. He was the person who was too friendly, charming enough to distract people from building real relationships with him.

Somehow the two sides worked together to create one semi-socially acceptable normal person.

And that's how Blaine survived: distant but friendly, charming but distracting until Kurt happened.

Kurt blew away his defenses, chipped at the edge bit by bit with witty banter, coffee dates, and massive texts-sprees that always ended late in the night with Blaine smiling like a moron at his phone.

But Blaine couldn't get attached.

Not even to Kurt, especially not to Kurt who was so wonderful and amazing and clearly meant for something beyond what Lima had. In five years Kurt was going to be on Broadway, or he was going to be a famous fashion designer, in five years Kurt was going to be something and Blaine was going to be dead.

So yes, he ignored all the signs between them, acted like he couldn't see how much Kurt meant to him, and tried to focus on someone else because that was safer, because it would never work out. But Jeremiah of the Gap wasn't Kurt. Yes it was a bit exciting that he was older and more mature but the banter wasn't as witty, Jeremiah's smile didn't make things inside of him twist up, and honestly? The coffee at that crappy coffee place wasn't even as good.

Blaine realized he couldn't do it forever or technically the next year and nine months, when Pavarotti died. Seeing Kurt sing was his Illuminating moment. Blaine was going to die but shouldn't he be allowed to live first?

So for the first time in his life he did something really selfish, something terribly selfish because he was going to die.

He kissed Kurt.

And there had never been a more exciting, more intense, more right moment in his life when Kurt kissed back.

.interlude ii (II).

Blaine would like to take a moment again. He's really sorry that this is taking even longer than he expected but he's the one with the limited amount of time, not you.

But he has to go over one single item first and then they can get back to the story, to the exciting part.

Things with all the way to the end were great with Kurt. The biggest problem in their near two year relationship was because of Blaine.

Blaine didn't want to have sex.

…

That's not really the best way to phrase it because he did want to have sex with Kurt. He thought about it constantly—hey you're not allowed to judge a dying man. In his defense he was a teenage boy and Kurt's outfits weren't exactly a turn off.

But Blaine didn't want to have sex, not when he was going to die and leave Kurt behind.

He had no doubts that Kurt was going to live through his death. He wanted him too. He wanted Kurt to move on and find someone special, someone who deserved him and more importantly someone who didn't have an expiration date.

But he thought that doing something so important with someone, something so special and then just disappearing (he figured it would seem like he had run away, that's actually how he intended for this to look. No one ever said in the books what happened to you after your time was up) was a horrible thing to do, to anyone really, but it would be worse if he did it to Kurt.

Kurt understood of course but he knew that Kurt thought it had something to do with him. Like Blaine didn't think about him all the time with his long legs, firm hands, and just everything else. Like Blaine didn't marvel at the fact that Kurt was with him. Like Blaine didn't thank—not God—but someone-something every time Kurt smiled at him.

Eventually he changed his mind realizing that he didn't want to die without giving himself completely over to Kurt. They might not spend forever together but they were important. They would spend all of Blaine's forever together.

Once he'd gotten up his nerve, his only problem was finding a way to show Kurt. The perfect time came right while they were doing west side story. After the show they'd been talking and Blaine decided he didn't want to waste another moment. So he leaned in and kissed his boyfriend, right in that auditorium where anyone could see them.

Kurt pulled back. "Blaine?" he said warily.

Blaine smiled at him, half-lidded eyes. "I don't want to waste any more time Kurt. I want to do everything with you."

They went to Blaine's—his mom and William were out of town for the next week—and they did something so amazing, so different, so worth the fact that he was going to die soon. Blaine kept his eyes open just staring at Kurt with his sweat-slicked hair and flushed face, with all of the hickeys covering his lean neck and chest and all he could think was I want to stay in this moment forever. I want to stay right here with you and hide away from the world for the rest of our lives. There is nothing better than you and me.

Afterwards when they slept, right next to each other, pressed together from head to toe even though Kurt always thought Blaine radiated too much heat, Blaine made-believe their future.

They'd both go to New York. By the time Blaine got there Kurt would already be settled, he would already know the best places to go and their apartment would look amazing. Kurt would do acting jobs—nice little things that only spurred his desire for Broadway—while Blaine went to school and studied.

They would be able to hold hands and kiss in public and no one would look at them with disgust. They'd still go out on dates, on the weekends, to quaint little cafes and charming restaurants. And every night Blaine would fall asleep right next to the man he loved. And when Kurt wasn't expecting it Blaine would propose, in some way that Kurt found equally dorky and adorable.

A few years later, after Kurt got big on Broadway and Blaine finished college and started insert dream job here they'd buy a house or get a bigger apartment and talk about starting a family. They'd have two kids and a cat (Kurt thought dogs were too hyperactive and after having the kids Blaine joked that, they already had two of them.)

And one day, a very long time from then, Blaine would die. He'd die when he was very old and he'd accomplished everything he wanted in his life. He'd die with Kurt, old and gray but still beautiful and fabulous, by his side. He'd die happy and loved and everything would be alright.

Right, Blaine snorted, that's going to happen real soon.

Blaine only lied once to Kurt in their entire relationship.

In the end Blaine never told Kurt that he was going to die. It was just too painful so he let Kurt play make-believe. He let him talk about their futures like it would actually happen.

Maybe some part of him wanted to believe it would actually happen.

It didn't.

III.

Everything was fine till Cooper came to visit. Blaine was playing pretend and he was moderately happy and then Cooper nearly ruined it all because Cooper had to remind him that he was going to die. That Blaine shouldn't be singing songs and having a boyfriend because he was dying.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Blaine said angrily.

Cooper held up his hands calm down Blaine. "I'm not allowed to visit my baby brother?"

Blaine stared at him and then seeing that he was actually serious, shook his head in exasperation and started to pace. Pacing made him feel productive. "I can't believe you. I can't fucking believe you."

"You kiss Kurt with that mouth?" Coop joked.

"Stop. Okay I don't want you to make jokes; I just want to know why you decided to visit me now."

"Why not now?"

"Because." Blaine yelled. "Because in the past five years you've never visited me, you never text me or call, and when you come home for break you don't even talk to me. So why now?"

Because you have two months and three weeks left, that's why now."

"What does that have to do with anything?" he said irritated. "Because in case you haven't notice I've been dying for the past five years. Nothing has changed."

His brother laughed, low and hollow, empty and cold. "You think I haven't noticed? I notice every day I look at a calendar, every time I see your face and all I can think is my little brother is going to die because of me. You know, I'm supposed to protect you. I'm the one that's supposed to watch over you and I can't fucking do that Blaine if you're dying because of me."

He took a deep breath. "So yes I notice."

Blaine was stunned and then Blaine was angry. "So that's why you left? Because you couldn't handle the fact that I'm dying, because you think it's your fault. You are so unbelievably self-centered! I'm not dying because of you you ass, I'm dying for you. Because that whole watching out for each other thing goes both ways."

"Blaine—"

He cut him off, calming down slightly. "Look Coop it comes down to this. I'm dying, I'm going to die and I'm going to die soon and you can either support me, you can be my brother and accept the fact that I am going to die or you can leave. But I'm not gonna waste my time fighting with you about it. We can't change it."

Cooper was silent; for once, for possibly the first time in his life his brother was silent. "I'll take the first option." He said quietly and Blaine laughed, reaching over to hug his brother.

.Interlude iii.

So this is it. We're at the final stretch if you've stuck around this long. The climax of the tale of Blaine Anderson's death. Now, concerning the cause of death Blaine has two options for you.

Option one: he can give a brief summary of his death, all the important bits there. Example "Blaine dies on July 12th, 2012. He dies at five thirty-six pm. It is very painful. Later the police say he died because of a wild animal. Everyone else moves on or almost everyone else moves on, and everyone else gets a happy ending. The end."

Too brief?

How about option two?

Blaine's giving a fair warning. Option two isn't brief; it isn't a quick little summary. It is blood and beasts, it is pain and suffering. It is knowing that he's left behind his family, his friends, and Kurt.

Yes? You want to hear that one.

This is how it happens:

He last sees Kurt at 11 pm, July 11th. Kurt walks him to the door, a mischievous grin on his face and he knows his hair is still wild from what they just did. "You're not going to give anything away." He says dryly, arms crossed.

Kurt leans against the doorframe. "I'm sorry." He says but he's actually not. "But just look at you. How can I not grin knowing that you have a hickey there? And one there and another one there." Kurt trails his fingers over Blaine's chest, exactly where all the bites are it and he shudders involuntarily—it's a good shudder.

His boyfriend doesn't like hickeys, not on him anyway but Kurt is crazy about leaving them.

Blaine laughed loving the way Kurt's eyes darkened slightly. "I love you." He said softly and Kurt's grin disappeared replaced by a warmer smile. "I love you too."

Impulsively he leaned into his space, until there was no room between them and Kurt's eyes got even darker. Blaine pressed himself firmly against him. Taking this last moment to remember the way Kurt's body felt against his, how warm Kurt always was. "Blaine?"

He shook his head at the concerned tone, a bittersweet smile on his lips. "Sorry, just thinkin' about how much I really love you."

"Ah, and the verdict is?" Kurt leaned his head down, closing the gap between them.

Blaine kissed him, trying to pour everything he had into that last kiss. Trying to make Kurt understand just how much he loved him. Images passed through his mind—when they first met, their first kiss, their first actual date, the first time they said I love you, the first time they made love. All of it. Everything in one last kiss goodbye.

July 11th passed into July 12th and Blaine suffered through the worst day of his life. For most of it he was hallucinating, imagining terrible horrible things every time he looked out the window. Hearing that demon's voice in his ears every time he stopped to think you're going to die, today is the day you die.

Cooper stayed with him the entire day and his mom tried to but Blaine refused to die with her present so eventually he and Cooper left, with his mom hugging him tightly. It was painful but Blaine didn't want it to end either.

"Coop?" he muttered quietly, a while later after the hallucinations had faded to a minimum.

Cooper turned down the radio. "Yeah?" Blaine appreciated the fact that Cooper wasn't treating him differently; he was still just Blaine his stupid kid brother.

"I left a stack of letters in my room. One is for you, one is for mom, one of them is a combined letter for Wes and David and the last one is for Kurt. I need you to make sure the proper people get them." I need you to make sure Kurt gets his.

"Of course little brother." Cooper looked around. "This is the place isn't it?"

Blaine nodded, biting at his lip. The crossroads was still empty but it was only five thirty right now. Blaine got out of the car and walked around to the other side. He opened the door and hugged his brother. "Remember, stay in the car." He commanded, glaring at Coop to make sure.

Cooper nodded eyes blank. Customary charming smile gone.

"I love you." Blaine said as an afterthought because with brothers you never said I love you, you showed it through everything you did.

Coop laughed but it was distorted—watery. "God you're such a girl. I love you too."

The clock turned five thirty-three on the dash and nothing happened, Blaine was just standing there in the middle of the road perfectly fine. For a second Coop held out hope that his brother would be fine.

And then the screaming started.

Something had knocked Blaine to the ground but there was nothing there and Cooper craned his head but he couldn't see anything.

Blaine was still screaming, a terrified high-pitched sound, and he saw why when he realized that his brother was bleeding, skin torn off in chunks by something that wasn't there—no it's not that it wasn't there, Cooper just couldn't see it.

Cooper's hand went to the door handle—"Stay in the car!" Blaine yelled out, still screaming and crying as he was literally torn open. The monsters doing it were worse than anything he had always pictured. They were indescribable beasts with sharp narrow teeth that hooked into his skin and pulled.

Blaine died from the blood loss, from the wounds three agonizing minutes later. Cooper knows he died then because the screaming stopped.

Cooper was still stuck in the car paralyzed in horror as he stared at the mass of body parts that had once made up his brother.

that's the story of how Blaine Jonathan Anderson, age seventeen, died on July 12th 2012 at five thirty-six pm thinking of his boyfriend as he was torn violently apart by hell hounds.

That's all Blaine knows.

That's all he remembers.

That's how it happened.