Blaine stood in the empty cemetery, staring at the fresh grave before him. The harsh winter wind whipped at his skin, and he pulled Kurt's old peacoat closer to him and buried his face in the scarf Kurt had given him for their anniversary. He looked back at the grave that read:
Kurt Elizabeth Hummel-Anderson
Beloved Friend, Husband, and Father
"Because I knew you, I have been changed for good."
"What are you looking at honey?" a voice behind him asked Blaine.
"You," Blaine replied, his tone as dead and cold as the man the voice belonged to.
"What happened, Blaine?" Kurt whispered.
"We had a fight that night and you took Toronto...the car...it came out of nowhere...he was drunk and...oh God..." Blaine fell to his knees crying, "Toronto is still in the hospital..." The ghost knelt beside him.
"Blaine..."
"I'm so so sorry, Kurt. I shouldn't have let you go that night. I shouldn't have let you go," he said between sobs.
"Blaine, it's not your fault," Kurt said, "I wan't you to remember that."
"I know, Kurt but I just can't help but think...I'm just so sorry for everything I said that night."
"I love you, Blaine. And I'm happy where I am, wherever I am. As long as you and Toronto are safe, I'm happy. I love you, remember that."
"I love you, too, Kurt," Blaine said standing up and resting a single rose on the headstone, "I will always love you."