Full Summary:
Blaine Anderson is a boy on the brink of self-destruction. His life as he knows it is falling down around him and all he wants is to leave it all behind.
Kurt Hummel is no ordinary boy, no matter how badly he wishes he was. He is an angel on Earth, charged with returning light to the life of someone living in darkness. Only then will he receive his wings and be granted entrance to the Otherworld.
When the two meet, neither expect the instant connection that is formed. While still struggling with harming himself, Blaine lives for any moment he can spend with Kurt, and every moment Kurt spends with Blaine fills him with a sense of joy he's never felt before. Their friendship quickly grows into something more-something neither boy is sure he is ready for. Blaine is still fighting to make it through each day, and Kurt knows that to fall in love with Blaine would lead to nothing but misery for them both. However, when love is a force that cannot be denied, how are the boys supposed to resist?
Hey, guys. My name is Kolie and while I'm in no way new to the world of fan fiction, this is my first ever fic for the Glee fandom. I've been sitting on the sideline for months now, reading other fics and silently stalking some of my favorite authors on Tumblr (shhh!), and finally decided I should get my ass in gear and add something new to this wonderful, insane fandom!
Anyway, I'm really excited about this story and look forward to any feedback you guys may have! All I ask is that you try and keep it constructive, okay?
Warnings: (for the whole story) self-injury, suicidal thoughts, OOC!Blaine, angel!Kurt, language, smut (eventually)
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee nor any of its respective characters. They all belong to Ryan Murphy and the gang (sadly).
1. Erase This
Death was such a beautiful thing. It was the end of everything anyone had ever known. Whether it was a life wrought with sadness or joy, pain or pleasure, when death came along and took it away, one was left with nothing. Bleak and empty with promises of escape and the chance to see family members again, death was the easy way out for some and something others never wanted to experience.
Doctors played God everyday in their attempts to make a sickly patient's life go on as long as it possibly good—consequences be damned. And for centuries, alchemists had claimed that a simple, red stone held the promise of immortality and riches beyond belief within it. Yet the world had yet to develop a true way to escape the enigma. No matter what advances were made, Death always reached out with incessant, grabbing hands to drag aching souls into the depths of His darkness.
With those thoughts in mind, Blaine Anderson stared at the switchblade in his hand. He turned the handle back and forth and watched, entranced, as the light fractured off the blade's edge. It was ironic how something he planned to use for such a morbid purpose could be so beautiful, but he could appreciate it. He was Blaine Anderson, after all, and while he never liked to think of himself as conceited, he knew he would never go out of this life with anything other than splendor. While not conceited, he was a showman.
Sighing, Blaine looked away from the blade and to the clock on his nightstand, blinking as the numbers flashed from 3:12 to 3:13 in the afternoon. Classes would be over soon, and he wouldn't be surprised if Wes and David were pounding on his door at precisely 3:30 with questions about why he'd skipped out on their last hour.
The thought of his friends brought a smile to Blaine's face. He would miss them, as well as the rest of the Warblers. They were his friends. Hell, they were his family, or at least more of a family than the one he'd been born into was. Despite both being "straight as a board" males, Wes and David had almost become parental figures for Blaine. They were only a year older than him, but seemed to possess infinite wisdom in the "real life" subjects Blaine often questioned them about. Nick and Jeff had become the brothers Blaine would never have. They teased him endlessly about everything they could and weren't afraid to tell Blaine what they were thinking at any given time.
He hated that he was going to cause them so much pain. None of them deserved to deal with the repercussions of Blaine's death. He wished so badly that he could tell them that it was none of their faults. Regardless of how close he was to them all, none of them would ever be able to take away the numbness that had settled in the pit of Blaine's chest. He was empty, completely and utterly.
Blinking out of his thoughts, Blaine looked back to the blade in his hand. He rolled the handle around in his palm to test the weight, and smiled when, as always, it felt perfect there, as if it had specifically been made for that exact purpose.
After setting the blade down beside him on the bed, he shrugged out of his Dalton blazer and unbuttoned the sleeves of his crisp, white button-down shirt. He rolled both sleeves up to his elbows and stared down at the flesh revealed. Pockmarked with raised white scars and still healing scabs of recent wounds, his arms were a map of everything he had been shouldering for the past six months. Keeping up his grades, being the face of the Warblers, dealing with the looks of disgust from his father and silent sympathy from his mother whenever he went home. It had all become too much.
Blaine grabbed the blade from the bed and immediately went to work, using the point of the blade to draw new lines across the ones that already existed. One, two, three, five, ten… He lost track of how many and he honestly didn't care, as long as they weren't near his wrists. The sharp pain was a welcome difference from the emptiness he was used to feeling. Each new cut welled and burst with blood, creating multiple rivers of crimson against his caramel skin.
When he was satisfied with his opening number, Blaine pulled the blade away from his arm and watched the blood flow. There were so many wounds, more than he'd ever made at one time, but it wasn't enough. The numbness that had fled while he was in the process of making the wounds was back with a vengeance. It was an empty throbbing in his chest, a hole where his heart should have been.
There was only one thing left to do. Blaine gripped the blade tight in his hand and lowered it to his wrist, trying hard to keep his breathing controlled and calm. He'd been planning this moment for weeks. There was nothing to be afraid of.
A sharp knock to his door made him jump, the knife falling out of his hand and to the floor, where it landed with a dull thud.
"Blaine! Blaine, are you in there?" The voice was muted through the heavy wood door, but there was no mistaking it was Wes.
Blaine sighed and closed his eyes, taking a couple seconds to get himself under control. "Yeah, I'm here."
"Hey, Man. Are you okay?" It was David this time. "Why weren't you in class last hour?"
"You never miss class!"
"We're all worried!"
Blaine groaned. Nick and Jeff were out there too? As much as he loved the four of them, the last thing he wanted to deal with was Wes, David, Nick, and Jeff as a team. Alone they were difficult to deal with, but together they were formidable.
"I just had a stomach ache," he lied, kicking the knife under his bed as he pushed himself up. "Must have eaten something bad at lunch."
The four outside said nothing to him, but he could just barely catch the muffled sound of whispering. He tried to ignore it as he started cleaning up, glad that the small bit of blood that had gotten on the hardwood floor from the knife was easy to clean up. He wandered into the bathroom next, when it was obvious that whatever plan the four boys outside his door were planning was going to take a while.
For a brief moment, he thought about continuing with his plan. They were outside, after all, and would never know what was happening on the other side of the door. But who knew how long he would stay conscious, and the other four were sure to panic and get someone to unlock the door if he was quiet for too long. And besides, they were his friends, and no matter how empty he felt inside, he just couldn't bring himself to do it when he knew without a shadow of a doubt they would end up blaming themselves.
Blaine glanced at his reflection and bit his lip. His usually tame curls were a wild nest around his head, all the gel he'd used to style it with broken up when he'd run his fingers through his hair over and over again. Dark circles underlined his honey eyes and left his face looking gaunt and hollow.
Shrugging out of his blood stained shirt, Blaine turned on faucet and let the water get warm before he stuck his arms beneath the flow. He hissed when the water hit his fresh wounds, watching as the liquid in the basin turned to a pretty pink color. When everything that would rinse away was gone, he pumped a few squirts of soap into his hands and rubbed them against his forearms. The soap stung even more than the water and brought tears to Blaine's eyes, but he kept scrubbing until all the dried and congealed blood was gone, using his discarded shirt to apply pressure to the wounds still dribbling blood when he was finished.
The rattling of his doorknob drew Blaine out of the bathroom, still pressing the shirt to his arm.
"Can we come in, Dude?" Jeff's voice was followed by more rattling of the knob.
"Yeah, just a second."
Blaine pulled the shirt away, satisfied to see that most of the bleeding had stopped. He threw the dirty shirt under the bed with his knife and grabbed another from his closet, shrugging it on and securing a few buttons before he opened the door. If he could have taken a picture of the looks on his friends' faces, it would have been perfect. All four pairs of eyes were wide, Jeff and Nick's mouths open in "O"s of surprise. Wes was the first to recover, coughing before he pushed Blaine aside and took a step into the room.
"Not to be crass, but you look like shit," he said.
Blaine laughed, but inside he held his breath as Wes neared his bed. Both the knife and the shirt were under his bed, safely hidden by his comforter and dust ruffle, but what if he thought Blaine was up to something and decided to look under the bed? What would he say—what would he do—if his friends found out about his bad habit?
But Wes just sat down on the edge of the mattress, critical eyes taking in every inch of his friend's disheveled form. Smiling self-consciously, Blaine finished buttoning his shirt and grabbed one of the ties hanging over his desk chair. Next came the blazer and finally Blaine felt safe. He was covered to the point that no one would notice if a little blood managed to seep into his shirt. His blazer would cover it all.
"Are you feeling up to rehearsal?" David asked from his position still outside the door with Nick and Jeff. "We can always reschedule for tomorrow if you're not."
"No, no." Blaine made sure to flash them his brightest smile. "I think I got it all out of my system, so I should be fine."
Wes narrowed his eyes, but stayed silent. The scrutiny made Blaine flash him another bright smile while he convinced himself that his friend didn't know. No one knew. He'd been trying so hard to hide it from everything and he'd be damned if someone found out now.
"So! Are we ready to go?" He grabbed the messenger bag sitting on beside his desk and shrugged it onto a shoulder. "Don't want to keep the others waiting!"
Pushing through the doorway, Blaine clapped Nick and Jeff on the shoulders and headed down the hall, the other four boys close on his heels. Blaine made sure to put a smile on his face so no one he passed in the busy hallway would suspect something was going on. In his mind, he began planning. He would do it tomorrow morning. His roommate always had early morning basketball practice, so Blaine would have the room to himself. No one would think to come looking for him until after first period, at least. If he woke up early enough, it would be too late for anyone to interrupt him, and his plan would succeed.
By the time they reached the spiral staircase leading to the first floor, Blaine no longer had to force himself to smile. While his first plan may have been thwarted by his noisy friends, no one would be in his way in the morning. By then, Blaine Anderson would be free.
With a skip in his step, Blaine pulled out his pocket watch, measuring exactly how long he would have to wait before things were perfect.
"Excuse me! Could I ask a question? I'm new to this school."
Blaine looked up from his watch to see an out of uniform boy. A gorgeous out of uniform boy, at that, with an ethereal face and eyes the color of the ocean. Blaine had a feeling that he could drown in those eyes if he was given enough time to stare into them. In that moment, with all his focus on the strange boy in front of him, every thought, every plan, Blaine had ever had was forgotten.
AN: Short chapter is short. And just so you all know, every other chapter will be in Blaine's POV, with all the others being in Kurt's. If any of you are on Tumblr, you should totally look me up! koliewritesthings. tumblr. com. I basically live there, so yeah... :O See you next chapter!