Blaine Anderson believed in destiny. He believed that everyone was meant for something and one day everyone would find their way and end up where they belonged. It was a nice thought really, maybe more of a comfort than anything, but he truly believed everyone had a path they were meant to take, full of obstacles and silver linings, people they were meant to meet, to lose, and that most of all, things happened for a reason. It gave him a reason to move forward from his past, his scorn. He lived his life fully, happily taking things as they came in his stride until it broke him. And that had led him to Dalton. Blaine believed that things got better, that with every twist of fate there was always better waiting after if you allowed it. Blaine Anderson lived by these philosophies. He held on to them with everything he had. And then, at age seventeen,Blaine Anderson died.
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Kurt Hummel felt restricted, like he was twisted and pushing into himself; imploding. He felt like he had lost everything and just kept on losing though he had nothing left. And in a sense, this was true. He did not believe in lying, at least to himself. He resented all that though at some points he preferred it that way. He would rather be content in his world of emptiness than have to fake the feelings people wanted to see. But he would still do it. He was utterly alone and though he loathed it he was used to it. And true, he had is father, but it was hard on him as well and Kurt was so close to losing him too he couldnt let go. Still, Kurt would paste on a smile. Kurt believed in smiles. He believed that if you could fake it long enough, then maybe it would no longer be fake. If he could fool everyone, maybe he could fool himself. Kurt didn't want to believe in fate. Fate took too many things away. Fate was greedy. Kurt wanted to believe you make your own destiny. But that wasnt always the case
xxxx
Kurt knelt on the dampened earth, the bitter cold had long since left him numb and while it stabbed like knives at his skin, the thin air left him not only with an oppressive weight but a sense of emptiness. He wondered if anyone else could feel it too. But there was no one else in the cemetery that day. No broken hearted widows shadowed their late husbands grave, no parent mourned their children, but still the air was weighted with the heartbreak of a million troubled souls, as if each time one passed through, a piece of it caught in the air like barbed wire and remained there to fester. It was almost tangible. There was an ironic peaceful silence surrounding him and his mothers grave that secluded him. The only disturbance was the soft rusting of the leaves of the large oak that leaned above. It had been a while since Kurt had made a visit and he added that to his list of reasons to hate himself. He was overcome with guilt. Things!- so many damn things, it was just too much, and he hated what she would have thought of him and how he was handling it all. Kurt sighed and rested beside the fading headstone. He didn't speak a word but softly he hummed a nameless melody. He thought. He remembered. And he pressed his temple against the cool stone, counteracting with the hot tears blooming in the corners of his eyes and firmly, fervently hoped that maybe his mother could hear. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what it was like- what she felt like. How she could make it go away. He felt younger, he felt a little more whole, but just barely. Kurt curled up at the base of the grave, knowing fully how morose and sad it appeared, and horsely whispered into the air
"Can you hear me?"
and a moment later he felt a twinge inside his ear. It tingled and prickled but he could also feel just a small hint of a presence. His eyes shot open. mom? Or maybe he was just telling himself that he had.
xxxx
Blaine was confused. He knew somethings, and others he didn't. He remembered feelings, but sometimes he didn't think he could remember what it meant to feel them. Nothing made much sense and every second felt like every cell in him was thrumming. Blaine felt cold and sort of empty, but he was also aware. He was aware of the sounds of the air and the racing of light that he could never notice before, but at the same tie everything was muted; slower. He knew things were different. He knew what had happened to him… remembered seeing it for the first time and trying to convince himself it wasn't true. Sometimes Blaine wanted to forget. He wanted things to be the same and sometimes he would go about his routine pretending like it was. But, he still believed everything happened for a reason. There must be some reason he was here. There must be some reason he went to the cemetery that Saturday. Blaine could hear the soft humming calling to him, and could feel the deep pain in every note. Blaine was slave to it, needed with everything in him to find the source and give it everything it needed. He found himself humming along as he passed through grey streets, filled with oblivious grey faces in grey clothes, doing grey things and talking grey words. Everything was grey compared to the sound he was following, and as he grew closer the more he was pulled in. Blaine found himself watching the elvish boy at the grave site, both curious and pained. His expression one Blaine had never allowed anyone to see while he was alive and it horrified him how a human being was capable of feeling such an emotion to make an expression so melancholically at peace. Blaine knelt next to the boy, leaning in as far as he could go knowing he would not know he was there anyway. The boy shuddered but did not open his eyes. Blaine was so close to him, he wanted to reach in and caress the poor beautiful boy, take away all the pain; but he couldn't even if he wanted to. There was no more touching for Blaine.
Blaine could feel himself slowly slipping. Even in death, never in control. He was slowly fading into the air, starting to drift away and as much as he wanted to hold on and just sit with the boy he believed that he would be taken somewhere that would lead him to something else. The boy stirred and tightened his eyes, letting out in a choked breath "can you hear me?" Blaine wondered if the boy knew of his presence. He grew excited, wanting to stay more than ever, get some answers. The wind picked up softly and pulled him apart with it. And right before he let himself go, Blaine leaned in, brushed against the boys ear and whispered with the softness of rain "Yes"