Author's Note: wheee, I'm starting another fic. This won't be nearly as long as I plan for TLS, but it will be a couple chapters. I'm guessing two, but it could be three. It all depends on how much Blaine talks and, well, if you've read anything of mine before, you know he likes to monologue.

Reviews would make me feel like puppy!blaine with a frisbee. And who doesn't love a puppy with a frisbee?

How it Feels to Fall

Blaine Anderson is pretty sure he's dreaming.

Clumsy hands reach down and pinch his own arm and though he doesn't wake up, he doesn't quite feel anything either, and he's pretty sure that means that he's fast asleep somewhere. The rule usually is that a pinch will wake you up, but Blaine figures that not feeling it should at least confirm that he's not awake. If that isn't enough to convince him, he's almost certain that the sight that's in front of him is completely impossible. That helps, too.

See, Jesse St. James is crying.

Okay, that's not a very nice thing to say about his best friend, because it's not like Blaine's trying to imply that Jesse doesn't have emotions or anything like that; he has plenty of evidence to the contrary, if he's being completely honest. Though, Blaine's also pretty sure that he's never seen Jesse cry, in all the time that they've been… well, whatever it is that they are. Sure, Jesse is quite the drama queen, if Blaine has ever known one (capable of dramatics only rivaled by Rachel Berry) – but as Blaine looks over at his friend, he's definitely certain that he's never seen this before, because Blaine knows that he would remember something so damn heartwrenching. Blaine doesn't think he even saw Jesse shed a tear when they were little… come to think of it, yeah, he was usually the one making the other kids cry (but in his defense, Jesse was only being honest with them… they just couldn't take harsh criticism at the age of five).

So, yeah, Blaine is positive that he's dreaming – because there is no way that Jesse is sitting on the couch of their apartment, tears in his eyes and breathing all ragged. Upon further inspection, Blaine notices that Jesse's hair is unwashed, too… and that right there did it for him. Yep, this is definitely a dream. Though, as he tries to think about what happened before this, he can't really put a finger on it. What was he dreaming about before? He's not sure. Really, Blaine can't remember anything at all before this moment, not even if he really tries – and he does try, just in case he knows what's making Jesse so damn upset. Then again, that's not so weird, is it? Sometimes dreams just work that way. So, he figures he might as well go with it. No sense in letting Jesse cry in front of him, even if it only is a dream.

Blaine takes a seat next to Jesse and all of a sudden, a wave of sadness hits him in the chest. He really can't stand to see him like this, no matter what the circumstances (or the level of reality). Heart twisting, he says, "Jesse? What's wrong?"

Jesse doesn't say a word. He just leans back on the couch and tilts his head towards the ceiling. His eyes are so red and puffy; it sort of scares Blaine a little bit. Why the hell is he dreaming this? He needs to do something, needs to fix this. So, he reaches out and places his hand atop Jesse's. "Hey. Talk to me."

But something's not right. Blaine's hand is there, settled on top of Jesse's, just like normal. Looking at it, nothing seems out of the ordinary but, it doesn't feel right. The thing is, Blaine doesn't feel at all. There's no warmth underneath his fingertips; he doesn't feel Jesse's skin against his own. It's like before, when he pinched his arm and couldn't feel a thing. Blaine lifts his hand and lets it fall against the couch – but there's no sensation there, either. The leather isn't soft against his skin; there might as well have been nothing but air beneath his hand. It's like all of Blaine's nerve endings have gone out. Even sitting on the couch feels odd, now that he notices. He's not falling through it, no, but somehow it's like the cushion isn't even there; Blaine feels like he's floating.

He jumps up and backs away from the couch. He doesn't like this.

"Jesse," Blaine says, "Jesse, please tell me you can hear me."

He knows this is a dream. It has to be a dream. Well, a nightmare, because there's nothing pleasant about this bullshit. Jesse isn't crying anymore, just sitting – and Jesse is never just sitting. He's always doing something. Always being productive. Never wasting time, because time is precious and moments cannot be wasted. Of course, that was something Blaine would always tease him about, some nights when they would just lie together, watching a movie or just being together. Those were some of the few moments that Jesse didn't seem to mind sitting still, and he would always tell Blaine, "I don't consider these moments wasted, do you?" But this? This is so unlike the Jesse that Blaine knows better than anyone else on the planet, and just watching him look so dead is the most frightening thing he's ever been forced to watch.

"Okay, I can fucking wake up now."

Blaine pinches his skin again. Nothing.

Though, there is a knock at the door. Blaine watches as Jesse scowls before shoving himself off the couch and making his way to the door; even the way he walks is unlike him. One thing Blaine always noticed about Jesse is the way he walks with such purpose – with such intent and spring and determination – yet this Jesse sort of trudges, like it doesn't matter what's on the other end of that door. That too ends up scaring the living shit out of Blaine.

Something else that's weird? The person at the door? It's Kurt… and Blaine hasn't seen him in at least a year and a half.

"Jesse," the boy – er, man, now – breathes, and his eyes are just as red as the ones he's looking into. "Wow, they weren't kidding. You look like Hell."

He receives a snort in response. "And you're the picture of glamour yourself."

Blaine looks at Kurt and oh, man – he doesn't look well at all, either. His hair is in a better state than Jesse's, and of course his outfit is nothing but designer, but the circles under his eyes tell what his style does not. Even his skin doesn't look right, which instantly makes Blaine fret. Kurt's always on top of his skin care, but there he stands – looking a bit paler than usual and not nearly as glowing. His blue eyes even have bags beneath them, something Blaine's certainly never seen.

"I look better than you do," Kurt says, his lips turning into a thin line. "At least I bothered to get dressed this morning." He makes a face, eyes grazing over his hair. "Have you even showered?"

Jesse makes a move to slam the door in his face, but Kurt is faster. A pale hand reaches up and snatches it before it gets too close and he sighs, expression crumbling into one of sympathy. "Jesse," he says again, "we're worried about you."

"I had no idea you cared." It's dry and callous.

Kurt rolls his eyes. "Fine," he retorts. "Go ahead and hide in your pathetic little room, Jesse – because that's going so well for you. You want to shut everyone out? Fine. But, you'd think that you'd at least pay Blaine a visit, if you're as heartbroken as you claim. He'd want you there."

Huh?

"Because you've proven that you know anything about what Blaine wants."

Kurt falters, his jaw going a little slack for a second before hardening completely. "That was low, even for you," he sniffs, one eyebrow raising. "Enjoy your solitude." And he slams the door himself.

Blaine tries to find words. His first instinct is to scold Jesse for talking to Kurt that way; neither of them have seen him for years and Blaine's pretty sure that they put everything behind them. Though, he's having a hard time focusing on that when Kurt's remarks are the ones that stand out the most. What was he talking about? Blaine's starting to get really frightened, because this nightmare is feeling far too real for comfort. Pay Blaine a visit? A visit where? Pieces are starting to fall together in Blaine's head and he tries not to jump to the first bad conclusion he thinks of.

Am I even alive right now?

Something stutters in his chest. His heart, right? Yes, his heart is racing. He can't be dead, then. Right? He can't be dead. It all makes sense, though – the lack of feeling, the fact no one can hear him… is Blaine a ghost? He bites down on his lip and tries to breathe through his nose… can ghosts have panic attacks? He doesn't think so. Then again, how much does he know about ghosts? He's never really believed in the supernatural, not completely. That is, Blaine has always believed that anything is possible and he supposes that includes ghosts but… no, he can't be dead. Not now. Not yet.

What even happened? He can't remember. Blaine looks back over at Jesse and he's on the couch, fingers idly playing with a loose string on one of their throw pillows. A little smile tugs at Blaine's face as he watches, remembering how he and Jesse bickered over those damn things; "what the hell do we need throw pillows for, Blaine? - They just tie the room together, don't you think?" Of course, Jesse didn't really give a shit about décor or what they put in the living room so he just shrugged and let Blaine get the stupid things. Blaine looks at Jesse now and wonders if he's thinking the same thing, fondly remembering their banter and wondering where the time went.

Jesse's breath shutters a little and Blaine thinks that yes, he is.

"I'm so sorry," Jesse says, and Blaine wonders for a split second if he knows he's there. "I just can't, Blaine."

Blaine hisses, "can't what?" and kneels in front of Jesse, hands falling over the pillow in his lap. He stares at Jesse intently, as if he can will him – see me, he thinks. See me. After all, Blaine sometimes thinks that Jesse is the only one who ever could. He's trembling a little, terrified that Kurt was talking about Blaine's grave, the way he talked about his mom. Pay him a visit. It's what he used to say every Mother's Day, when Blaine would hold his hand as he lay flowers down. Pay him a visit. It sounds so formal, like it's one-sided somehow… It's not 'go see Blaine' or 'maybe you should say hello' or anything like that. Pay him a visit – like it's something that's owed.

Blaine lets his head fall onto the pillow, not really caring about how wrong it feels – rather, how it doesn't feel – and when Jesse places his hands in the same place, Blaine wills himself to be solid. He tries to remember how it felt to be touched by Jesse before, tries to recall all of the times Jesse ran his hands through his hair and does his best to feel it now. Blaine wishes Jesse could hold him, but he can't even see him and it's really starting to hurt. He presses his face against the pillow; what does fabric feel like? It's like he can't remember. How do you remember a sense like that? It's like trying to describe what something tastes like when you haven't eaten it in years. Why can't Blaine remember? It was just yesterday that they were on this very couch. It was yesterday, wasn't it?

Has he been gone longer? Or do the senses leave us that quickly?

"Please tell me I'm not dead," he whispers. "I'm so not ready to be dead yet."

Blaine wonders what Jesse is thinking; he lifts his eyes to look at the other man's face, and he looks so concentrated. He's clearly got wheels turning – Blaine can practically see them – but without the ability to ask, he can only guess.

There's a gut feeling there that Kurt's words are sinking in. Blaine knows Jesse pretty well, and he knows that behind the snark, there's woundedness. Blaine would want you there. The ache is so clear in Jesse's eyes and Blaine just wants to shake him and let him know that he wants him to be wherever he's happiest… and he's starting to get the feeling that this apartment isn't so healthy at the moment. On top of that, Blaine really would like to know what the hell is going on, and if Jesse paying him a visit will help him on his way… well, that would be greatly appreciated.

"Come see me," Blaine says, trying to make his voice strong – the way he tries to be heard on a normal basis, a way he rarely has to talk to Jesse. "I want you to come see me, Jesse." After a moment he adds, "Please?"

But Jesse doesn't respond. He does, however, stand up and walk away. His body goes right through Blaine – like he isn't even there – and Blaine watches as Jesse grabs a set of keys off the kitchen counter and heads for the door. But when he tries to follow, everything sort of goes black.

In fact, everything stays black. Blaine feels like he's floating again and there are voices surrounding him – voices and beeping and the smell of antiseptic.

"I tried," a voice is saying, and Blaine recognizes it to be Kurt. He sounds so agitated. "He's a mess, Rach. He didn't even listen when I told him that Blaine would want him here a—"

Blaine then hears a snort. "Of course he didn't," a woman responds, a voice that couldn't be anyone but Rachel Berry. "You tell Jesse St. James that you know what Blaine wants better than he does and you expect him to take your hand and skip off to the hospital with you?"

Hospital. They're in a hospital. That's a good sign, Blaine thinks. Okay, so it's not a good sign so much as it's a better sign than, say, a funeral home.

"I was in love with him," Kurt retorts. "You don't think I know him better than his roomma—"

Rachel cuts him off, her voice suddenly bitter. "Oh, they're a little more than roommates and you know it."

Blaine's eyes widen. Or, well, it feels like they do. Really, Blaine can't see anything so he's not really sure if he has eyes to widen… It's not like he can lift an arm in front of his face to see it, or really move at all. Blaine pretty much feels like he doesn't exist, which scares the crap out of him; he liked it better when he was a ghost. Right now, he's just… there, wherever that is. Not only that, but Rachel and Kurt are debating the nature of he and Jesse's relationship and it's making him more than a little uncomfortable – namely because he spends half of his time silently doing that himself and something about his ex boyfriend and Jesse's ex girlfriend having it out in what Blaine presumes to be his hospital room really puts him on edge.

The fact of the matter is, Blaine isn't really sure what he and Jesse are – and while on one hand, he's perfectly fine with that because at least he has Jesse – on the other… okay, no, he's not okay with it at all… but he has been absolutely content with pretending to be, because the last thing he wants to do is throw around words like 'boyfriend' and God forbid the one closer to his heart, 'life-partner,' just in case he scare Jesse off. See, Blaine would rather be confused than be nothing at all. Blaine's terrified of being nothing, if he's completely honest, but it's how he ends up feeling most of the time. It's different with Jesse, though, because he makes Blaine feel so wanted and special… which Blaine guesses is a little ironic in the scheme of things, but he was never one to care for irony. No, but he does care about Jesse and that just has to be enough. Yet here he is, listening to Rachel and Kurt discuss it all. He wants to throw up. Can ghosts throw up? Huh.

"I don't really believe that my relationship with Blaine is any of your business." Jesse's voice suddenly makes Blaine feel a bit more at ease. He wants to smile, but he's not sure he has lips.

Rachel's voice comes next. "Jesse! You're here." Blaine's not sure if there's more relief or embarrassment in her voice. "We were just…" she stops, slightly flustered and Blaine can practically see Jesse's eyebrows raising.

Come to think of it, Blaine can see all of them if he really tries. He can imagine them all there – Jesse looking irritated and grouchy, Rachel sitting beside the bed with those doe-eyes, and Kurt, unashamed and unimpressed on the opposite side. He likes painting the image more than he does darkness, so he keeps on with it; it makes him feel more real.

"You've cleaned up," Kurt says, and his voice is clipped. "Good to know that you've clung to enough self-respect to not leave your house looking utterly homeless."

Blaine imagines Jesse's eyes narrowing. "Yes, speaking of self-respect," he retorts, "I find it pretty interesting that you don't have a problem staying at Blaine's side when it's convenient for you." Blaine can see him glare – he knows Jesse's expressions far too well, and Blaine feels small just thinking about it. Automatically, he feels bad for Kurt… but, at the same time, he has to admit that the attempt at protection does make him feel sort of good. Jesse is nearly speaking through his teeth when he says, "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

"That's enough of that." Rachel's voice stuns Blaine a little. "You both can cut it out. We all know how much respect you have for yourselves, but how about a little for Blaine, please? You know, they say coma patients can hear you."

First, Blaine feels more grateful for Rachel Berry than he ever has. She's never stood up for him like that before, and Blaine is incredibly thankful that someone stopped those two while he couldn't; that wasn't a fight he wanted to hear or pretend to see. But then her second sentence kicks in. Coma patients can hear you.

He barely hears her say, "Kurt, I think it's best that you go," before everything goes dark for a second time.