A/N: This was written for the lovely artist Yu-Oka of DevientArt for her Badboy!Blaine and Angel!Kurt fic contest. Bad!Boy Blaine comes later, if you'll bear with me. This is the prologue to the story ^.^ I admit this isn't my best work. Yes, the title has been changed. I thought of it when listening to "Angels" by Sarah McLachlan.
Happy reading!
Prologue
It was, without doubt, another beautiful fall morning, the leaves changing various shades of reds and purples, which always looked inevitably stunning from up in the clouds; up in the invisible kingdom that no man could ever touch or see without his or her soul being ripped from their own skin. This was the morning, Kurt knew, that he would get his wings, so he could descend back upon Earth to be a guardian of another being. Kurt had always hoped for it to be a human, another man perhaps, one that was very handsome and perhaps vocally talented as he was. After all, weren't all angels matched with beings that were most like them? Then Kurt had dreaded thoughts, such as 'what if I'm assigned to a homophobic being?', or 'what would happen if I was assigned to someone who needed no guidance? How boring would that be?' and even, 'what if they stick me with the son of one of the bullies that murdered me?'. That thought haunted young Kurt to the core. How could he provide assistance to someone who lived with an unconvicted murderer? Just then he felt a light, dreamy tap on his shoulder, and he smoothly swiveled around to see one of the Winged Guardians of Skyloft, Jeffery, who was one of his friends that he had made in his many years in waiting.
"It is time." He said, smiling and motioning for Kurt to follow him as he led him to the center of the cloud city, to look down below through the circular hole in the cloud city where his kin would be waiting for him. The city was vastly clear for such a sunny day, the weather just right as always, for this was considered the heaven for the 'Blessed'.
You see, not every being down below had a guardian angel, which Kurt thought was preposterous, but instead only a select few who were believed to be 'Blessed' were chosen to be guarded. These people would always have an unusual advantage at everything; they always had extra help, no matter what it was they were doing. Kurt, however, was a special case; he, for several unknown reasons, was chosen to die blessed rather than being born one of these children. Kurt suspected it was the way he was killed, brutally shot by drunken homophobes, and left to die on the streets. But he could never be sure; the council never would tell him. He knew when he was done serving his duty on Earth, he would become a guardian, part of the council, or possibly even go back down to Earth to guard another being if he so chose. Kurt remembered remorsefully one of his friends who was assigned to a turtle that could for nearly five hundred years. Kurt had felt horrible, and wasn't even sure why they could legally assign you to animals. He still wished he could see his friend again, but he knew that it would be a few hundred years before they met again, and by then Kurt was hoping to be part of the Council, which didn't talk to normal citizens on most occasions, and he knew his friend just wanted to be a Winged Guardian. Now in the year 2070, however, Kurt finally felt prepared for what was to become of the rest of his eternity.
He looked over the edge of the large circle in the middle of the city, which was remarkably closer to the ground than usual, and scanned over the colorful scenario to try and guess the life he would be assigned to guard. He watched as other soon-to-be winged angels gathering around the circle, waiting to receive their letters to let the annual ceremony begin. The buildings here were absolutely stunning, made of marble and plated with gold. Of course, Kurt knew it wasn't 'real', none of this was really real, it just appeared that way to him because that was what looked nice to him. That was the strange part about Skyloft; everyone saw everything differently based on their preferences. That was also one of the many things Kurt loved; everything was beautiful, and nothing hurts.
"Kurt." He heard his friend say simply, holding out an envelope to open and scrutinize. Kurt gently took the letter from him, bowing his head gently, trying to stifle the immense excitement rushing through his veins. "You may open it." He answered to Kurt's pleading eyes. He gracefully tore open the envelope and pulled out one of the tri-folded piece of paper inside, then proceeded to unfold it as his friend bowed his head and gently, soundlessly walked away.
Kurt Hummel:
As you may know, today is the day you receive your wings to fly back down to the Earth and remain there for as long as the other being you guard survives. Enclosed in this envelope is a list of rules you must follow, and an Earth Guardian's Certificate that will help you locate the being you have been assigned.
Kurt frowned indignantly as he pulled out the paper labeled 'Rules'. He had never heard of rules being given to anyone.
Rules
You, under no circumstance, are to purposely communicate to your being while it is conscious from 2-15 Earth years of age. You may not communicate with others at all.
When you are gifted your wings, you and you alone are also to be given the Sacred Orb of Memories. You are under complete responsibility of it, and you will find out how to use it later. You absolutely CANNOT tell anyone you have it.
You and you alone are given these rules, and you are NOT to share them with anyone else.
Even as an Earth Guardian, you are only permitted to help your being if it is on the verge of death, you may not help it any other time, and this only applies to you.
The Sacred Orb of Memories is only to be used to help your being.
If any of these rules are broken, your being will suffer the consequence. If your being dies and it is your fault, you are going to be returned to Earth as a turtle placed in a zoo, and will remain there for as long as your life lasts, and then when that is over with, you are no longer going to be Blessed, and will go straight to Heaven (For your deeds in your first life).
Kurt felt himself shiver. What did this mean? The Sacred Orb of Memories? He couldn't help his being? How was this supposed to work? He contorted his face in a grimace, and then proceeded to the Earth Guardian's Certificate.
Earth Guardian's Certificate
Congratulations, you have been gifted with a human boy who goes by the name of 'Blaine Anderson'. He is the religion of Atheist at birth, and his personality is cunning and witty.
Then, at the bottom, a small piece of paper that was apparently taped on and hand written:
Kurt, it is very, very important that Blaine doesn't get killed. He is just like you. I entirely protest the idea of you not being able to help him until a dire situation (if you've read the rules already), but it is important for him to learn who he is and defend himself properly when he is a little boy. And if you're wondering what the Sacred Orb of Memories is, since the Council is adamant that you'll figure it out (even though you probably won't), I ought to warn you that it is a very dangerous object. I am not permitted to tell you what it does, but I do know. And to be perfectly honest, I don't know why in the name of Heaven they are giving it to you. Make wise choices, young Kurt. You are a special young man.
The note had no signature, no hint of where it came from. Kurt felt his stomach lurch at the idea. He would be so bored until this boy was fifteen… But forget that, what on Earth was even going on? As his mind started racing, he heard the Council leader, Jack Gabriel, who had been an Earth Guardian at least twenty times before, started to make an announcement from his perch at the front of the crowd on a stage in front of the capitol building.
"Citizens of Skyloft, may I have your attention." He announced sternly, making his eyes travel almost surreptitiously across the eager crowd. The tension from the newer to-be guardians was definitely palpable. "Today is the ceremony, when many Blessed angels shall receive their wings and flutter back down to Earth and guard another being. I'm assuming by now you all have your certificates to help you find your being, if you don't, please come to me at once. And with that, let the Wing Ceremony begin!" He bellowed, smiling. The crowd erupted into cheers, but Kurt couldn't help but remain quiet as his thought train proceeded to move forward. He saw a squat, midget-like winged man walking across the stage next to the council leader. His wings were a dusty, white-speckled gray, similar to Jack's, except Jack's being black. They seemed to converse for a moment as the crowd's cheering slowly died down. The little grey-winged man walked up to the front of the stage.
"Katherine Raymon," He stated in a professional tone. Kurt watched as the woman walked up onto the stage and stood eagerly, smiled slightly faltering on her face, as she was whispered to by the smaller man. She seemed to nod and swallow a lump in her throat. Kurt watched as the smaller man reached into a bag clipped to his waistband, and pulled out a handful of what seemed to be glittering dust. See, Kurt had seen this many times before, so it didn't really bother him when they threw the silver-gold dust over her and wings seemed to painfully sprout out of her back. Kurt watched as stunning pearl-white wings erupted from her back, puncturing her shirt as they did. Kurt never really understood the whole concept of how the wings just magically popped out of their backs, but then again, he couldn't have fathomed he would be here when he died, either.
"Katy Varmon," The announcer announced. Kurt was never sure why they never started at the beginning of the alphabet, or even why they alphabetized by first names.
"Katrina Norman," The man announced again. Kurt felt very unlucky that they started with K's this year. But at least he was 'KU' and not 'KA'.
"Kayla Freeman," He said. Kurt winced. That was the end of the 'KA's'. Kurt took a deep breath as he waited, several minutes passed by that seemed like hours waiting for his name to be called…
"Kuffman John," The announcer said, sounding even more bored than when he started. Kurt braced himself.
"Kurt Hummel." There was kind of a finality, the way he said his name, the way he rolled the 'r' and so gracefully said the letter 'l'. Or maybe Kurt just imagined that out of his fear as he pushed eagerly through the crowd. As he walked up on stage it fleetingly reminded him of a time on Earth when he had been in a musical, except there weren't lights in his face now, and he wasn't acting. The little man walked up to him like he had with all the others, then motioned for Kurt to kneel down because he was too tall for the man to whisper without being heard.
"Kurt, it's very important you understand this, what you're doing here is extremely vital that it is completed. Stand back up, and then shake my hand. I have the object with me. Stick it in belt pouch, do NOT lose it." He whispered frantically. Kurt obeyed and as he stood up, and, skilled from his years as an actor, kept his face blank as he shook the hand of the man who was half his size, taking a lightweight, marble sized orb on a chain from him as he did. He casually slipped it into the pocket on his belt pouch, and turned to face the smiling crowd. Kurt was a bit of a loner, so he didn't know very many of the faces staring up at him. He glanced to the side as the little man took the glittery dust from the bag, and without a second thought, tossed it onto Kurt. The impact was something wasn't prepared for. No, it burned horribly, not how he thought it would feel at all. It was so hot it was cold, and his skin seemed to burn his back. He couldn't help letting a whelp escape from his throat as he felt his skin breaking, and he could feel his wings pushing through his back. It was a horrible feeling, but then he felt relived, as if a pain that had been constricting his inside had just been let free by the act of his wings breaking lose. He twitched the tip of his wing, and it felt so strange to have extra limbs on his body. He became consciously aware of everyone staring at him, and even heard whispers and small, faint gasps from the crowd. What was going on? He asked himself, turning to look at the Council Leader, who smiled at him, along with the smaller man, who simply nodded in the direction to exit the stage. Kurt did so, and stood with the others who had just received their wings. He made an attempt to move his wing in front of him so he could see what they looked like, but his nerves were still a bit confused. He reached his hand behind him, expecting something horrible to happen, but his wing was there, nonetheless. He pulled it forward through its resentments (it was still stiff from breaking through, apparently) only to be greeted by one of the most unusual sights he had ever seen. Not only were his wing's base color a light yellow color, but were tipped black on the ends, and even Kurt had to admit they were very graceful despite their odd pigmentation. But that wasn't what made Kurt nearly scream when he saw it; he even had to pull his wing closer to make sure he hadn't imagined it. In what almost appeared to be a blood stain, his wing had the pattern of a cursive 'D' messily splattered across it. He tried to use his thumb to wipe it off, but it was inevitably part of the pattern on his feathers.
"What do you suppose it means?" He heard a voice whispering from behind him, which was hardly audible over the rest of the announcements.
"I wish I knew." Kurt said, speaking for the first time that day. Despite not being used, his voice was still soft and fluid like satin floating lost through the air.
"'D' could stand for anything. Death, Doom, Dread…" The man behind him started listing. Kurt quickly shook his head.
"It's got something to do with my being." Kurt said, releasing his wing from his grip, and it nearly smacked the person behind him. "Oh, sorry." He muttered to him.
… It seemed like hours passed before the Great Release was ready to be preformed. Kurt had always thought that it would be easy for him to just take flight, but even just moving his wings was a challenge. The others seemed to be having the same problem, so he assumed he'd be alright. All of them moved around the inner circle, gazing down at the forest below, supposedly a place with wondrous things. Kurt wasn't even sure he would be able to fly if he jumped right now. He tried again to stretch his wings, and this time they obeyed, but stiffly. Kurt watched the other angels utilizing the time to tend to their wings as well.
"Young Earth Guardians," He heard Jack bellowing above the buzz of excitement. "At the sound of the whistle you are to depart down to Earth. Once there, you will not be permitted back until your being perishes, in which you are instructed to bring its soul back with you to Skyloft depending on whether or not the being lived a truthfully not sinful life. If it has, it is not your responsibility to escort it to Hell; the demons will take care of that. If you do, however, bring back your being, you shall be upgraded if you so choose to be a Guardian of Skyloft, or you can proceed to Heaven if you've had enough. May the blessings be with you, Guardians, and perform your job well!" And with that, a quick silence ensued before the sharp high-pitched whistle was sounded. Kurt stood frozen on the spot, watching the others swiftly and gracefully jump into the hole down to Earth, and watched as they completely vanished, for once you are on a Guardian Mission, you are invisible to everyone but your being, and only you can chose if they see you or not. Kurt finally realized he was the only one still in the clouds when he glanced at Jack, who stood now with his eyebrows raised at him. Kurt nodded, and in one fluid movement, tucked his wings to his side as best he could, and dove down towards the surface of the Earth.
Kurt didn't look back as he plummeted to the Earth at lightning speed. He knew the city was gone, and that by time he got back Jack would probably be gone, too. It was a shame they never got to know each other, Jack was one of the few others that had died young. Kurt attempted to extend his wings, only to throw himself off balance for a second as he twirled around mid-flight. Finally, he slowly brought out his wings again, still several hundred feet from the ground, and attempted to steady himself as he made his body parallel to the ground. He felt the wind ripping at his auburn-golden hair, and upon looking down at himself wondering why he didn't feel the same sensation from his shirt, realized that it simply wasn't there. No, there was nothing there; all he had on was jeans that were cropped at the knees and his belt that held the pouch to store the things he was given at the ceremony.
"Fuck!" He shouted, realizing he had lost balance from some wind bump, and was now only about fifty feet from the ground. He desperately tried to stable himself, but to no avail. What am I worried about, I can't die twice…
Bam.
Kurt hadn't realized that he was a solid being once more, that his skin did in fact come into contact with the ground. Thankfully, hitting the ground that hard hadn't hurt him as bad as he thought, but it still left him feeling sore and grouchy. He suddenly dug in his pocket to find the envelope, and opened up the Earth Guardian Certificate. Kurt wasn't sure how a piece of paper would help him, but all of a sudden, the wind violently rushed through, stealing the paper from his hands.
"No!" Kurt shouted, hurrying after it. "I need that!" Kurt said, addressing the wind. Kurt had learned in his time at the Blessed Heaven that the wind was, in fact, controlled by another angelic being. Kurt tried running, but realized quickly that he was far too slow to keep up. He feebly extended his wings and desperately flapped them up and down, but only managed to stir of the wind more as he ran after the paper. Finally, mimicking something he had once seen in a movie, jumped up with all he had and pushed down as hard as he could with his wings, and this time he was propelled upward. He kept doing this until he was at the same height as the paper, then proceeded to glide after it, trying as hard as he could to catch up. Every time he would get close enough to snatch it, the wind would seem to push the paper farther away. Then it dawned on Kurt; it was helping him find Blaine. This was the first time since he first read the certificate he had thought of him, a baby boy, Blaine. Blaine Anderson. Kurt couldn't help his excitement as he said it out loud.
"Blaine… Blaine Anderson… Blaine! Blaine Blaine Blaine, Oh Blaine~" Kurt started almost singing the name out of pure glee, happy to have the name leaving his lips with such grace. "Kurt, Kurt and Blaine, Blaine and Kurt! Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel, together as blessed spirits!" He shouted at the top of his lungs to nobody in particular. It felt good to be able to just talk without anyone hearing you for once. Kurt smiled as he followed the paper, wondering what the baby boy might look like. "He's the son I never had, Blaine Anderson-"And just like that, his excitement went to its peak when the paper started falling from the sky, drifting alone on the forgotten breeze as if it hadn't just flown at an outrageous speed away from him. Blaine was right below him! Kurt quickly dived down and grabbed the paper, following its path to the sidewalk below. Kurt was facing the street, but quickly turned around, realizing he was behind him. Kurt was not pleased by the sight at all, not even a little glimmer of hope remained now. The house was just a plain run-down shack, the paneling peeling off and almost seeming to rot. Kurt took a step forward, but his attempt to move was paused when he smelled smoke. Not cigarette smoke, wood smoke, like something was on fire. Kurt quickly rushed inside the house (not bothering with the door, for whatever reason he simply just willed himself through the wall), to be greeted by a mother, poor but kind looking, was attempting to beat down a kitchen fire- the food burnt, the stove ablaze. The woman had very dark brown curly long hair, her eyes a blazing green color that reflected the fire prettily. Kurt didn't know what to do. The he remembered; You may not help any other beings.
Alright, so he couldn't help this woman, but where was her son? Was this the right house? Kurt didn't have the moral to let it burn down. He sincerely hoped the woman could put of the fire with the blanket she was beating it with, or at least get out alive (Which she could, the fire just started). Kurt quickly scoured the whole house, running as fast as he could through each old and rotting room, until he found a room with a broken wooden crib in it. Despite the fiasco in the other room, Kurt calmly approached the baby, who was squirming uncomfortably in his crib, as if it knew something was wrong. Kurt glanced behind him, realizing the fire was growing, and that the woman had not put it out. Kurt heard a sudden scream, and knew dreadfully in the pit of his stomach the woman had caught fire in attempt to prevent this house, probably all they had, from burning down. Kurt waited for several painful seconds until he heard the screaming cease, leaving nothing but the roar of a fire and a now crying baby to fill his empty ears. Kurt quickly walked up to the edge of the crib, and little Blaine glared up at him. He can see me. Kurt frowned for a minute, the situation horribly inconvenient, then felt a hot tear strolling down his cheek. This was a dire, life-or-death situation, was it not? Blaine would die if he left him.
"Blaine." Kurt said simply, and the baby looked up at him, seemingly startled that the strange man knew his name. But he's just a baby; he doesn't know his name anyway.
Kurt heard the fire crackle closer, then swiftly reached down his arms to the tiny, probably one month old child, and slid his arms under him. To his surprise, he didn't slip through him as if he were a ghost, but was instead lifted gently up into Kurt's arms. Kurt marveled at the little baby, smiling at him, but quickly remembered the scenario; it was time to move, now.
Kurt turned to the door, which was obviously closed, and he realized he couldn't take a mortal through a solid wall, it didn't work like that. He instead turned to the only window in the room, which luckily led outside, and holding Blaine in one arm, he tried to unlock the window to get through. He quickly found that his fingers only slipped through the lock as if his finer wasn't there, so opening it was out of the question. Wait, so he could only touch people, was that it? Kurt frowned deeply, and then returned Blaine quickly to his crib to try and unlock the window as the fire roared tauntingly behind him. He could touch the window this time, and unlocked it swiftly, throwing open the glass and punching out the screen. I must only be able to touch one thing at a time. Kurt picked up Blaine, and then stepped up with difficulty to the windowsill. Kurt looked down, and although they weren't that far from the ground, there was a sticker bush right below the window. Okay, who the hell plants a sticker bush right below the only fire escape in the room…?
There was only on solution; Fly. Kurt jumped out the window, desperately flapping his wings for the sake of Blaine's life, and just managed to get over the sticker bush and turn to land on his back before hitting the ground. Blaine was safe, that was all that counts, even if it felt like Kurt had just popped his wing out of socket. He stared up at a horrible scene, the house was definitely on fire and the flames leapt above the roof. Kurt faintly heard a fire truck in the distance; good, help would come. But what about Blaine? What should he do with the warm body in his arms? Leave him for the firemen to pick up? No, Kurt couldn't do that, could he? Did Blaine have any other relatives? Oh, if only Kurt knew… It only took some miniscule information about Blaine to save him from the fate that seemed to be left in Kurt's hands. Kurt sat up, cradling the now screaming baby in his arms. Kurt pulled out the certificate again, hoping for some sort of answer, but the wind was very still and hot from the fire. He stuffed it back in his pocket. Wait… Kurt fumbled around in his pocket for a second, and retrieved the Sacred Orb of Memories, which glistened with a beautiful coal-black color, almost as if it was a cloudy day inside. It was very cold to the touch, even though it had been in his belt pouch right next to his skin. He fumbled around with the gold chain for a minute before sparking an idea.
"Not that you'd know, but I want to see if I put this around your neck if I'll be able to view your memories." Kurt said to the baby, who, as expected, had no response. Kurt unhooked the chain, and supporting Blaine's head with the crook of his knee, clipped it around him. The orb seemed to flicker a faint shade of caramel brown. Nothing happened.
"Maybe not…" Kurt muttered. Blaine still seemed to not really know what was going on. Kurt picked up the orb around the baby's neck, and stared into the creamy brown color, expecting some sort of help to come forth. And then there was that feeling, a feeling of deep regret, a feeling that Kurt had only experienced when he was on Earth, and then a sharp burn on his wing, right where the cursive 'D' was etched in his wing design. Kurt, for the life of him, couldn't let go of the orb, and suddenly felt a pulling sensation, as if being pulled towards the tiny brown sphere he held. And suddenly, with a flash of turquoise and hazel, he felt one last jerk from the orb, and all went black.