Kurt doesn't suspect anything when his phone rings. He doesn't think anything's amiss when he sees his boyfriend's name on screen. It only sparks the usual glow of happiness that fills Kurt whenever he thinks of him.

He pushes his textbook away from him, casting the history notes aside as though they no longer matter to him, despite the fact that he was inspecting them very carefully a moment ago. "Hi Blaine," he says into the phone, unable to keep the smile out of his voice. "What's up?"

"Kurt."

And with that one word, Kurt knows that Blaine is not okay. Blaine's voice is shaky and quiet, a voice that rings with terror. A voice that is broken. "What's wrong? Blaine, are you alright?"

"I—I need you. I need your help. Please …" He cuts off abruptly, and Kurt can hear his breath come through the line, rugged and short. The tremors in his voice are clearer now. His tone is even more weak and scared; he sounds as though he's going to shatter into a million pieces.

Kurt's chest squeezes, and his eyes burn. He's never heard Blaine like this, and it kills him. "Did something happen? Blaine, what happened?"

The other boy hesitates. "I can't … tell you. I can't explain. There's … no … just come over. I need you to come over right now or I won't … or I don't know what'll happen—" Once again, he can't seem to continue.

Kurt is already on his feet and grabbing the jacket from his bed. "Don't worry. I'm coming. Blaine, just breathe. Just … hold on until I get there, alright? It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay, Blaine."

"Hurry," is all he says, his voice nearly a whisper. Then the line goes dead.

Kurt's mind is racing as he throws on the nearest pair of boots to him and nearly runs out of his room. What's going on? What's wrong with Blaine? What's happening over there? Will Blaine be okay until he gets there? Will Kurt be able to fix whatever the problem is? The concerned questions chase themselves around his head until it feels as though his mind will implode.

He reaches the door, grabbing his keys from hook before almost throwing himself out into the chilly night air. In a flash, he's behind the wheel of his car and starting the engine. As he begins the familiar drive to Westerville, fear for the boy he loves grips him in a tight hold, causing his heart to pound. The sharp claws of worry swipe at him and close around his throat, holding him hostage and keeping his every other thought at bay.

The drive seems to take years; no quick amount of time would have been fast enough. Kurt feels as though he took too long, even though he drove five miles over the speed limit the whole way. When he finally arrives at Blaine's house, his pulse has accelerated even more, along with the amount of fear and worry in his veins.

He runs to the doorstep and rings the bell. Blaine answers it, greeting Kurt with a sight that makes his fear rise to a higher level.

Blaine is a wreck. His eyes are weary and bloodshot, their hazel depths brimming with tunnels of horror. His expression matches the emotion in his eyes. His dark curls are messy and unkempt, and his face is stark pale. When Kurt reaches out to take Blaine's hand, it's trembling.
"Kurt," is all he says, and he falls into Kurt's arms.

"It's okay." Kurt pulls Blaine closer to him and holds him. He melts into the hug the way he always does, pressing his cheek against Blaine's hair, breathing in his scent that he has grown to know and love. "It's going to be okay. I promise."

They pull away, and Blaine takes Kurt's hand again. He leads him to the couch. Kurt can't help notice that there's a stumble to Blaine's step, a fact which increases his worry.

Blaine sinks into the sofa and lets out a long sigh. His right hand still holds Kurt's, while his left hand grips the edge of the couch so hard that his knuckles shine white.

Kurt notices that the only light in the living room is the small lamp on the coffee table. The tiny light illuminates Blaine's face but casts the rest of the room into shadows. Kurt wonders why there aren't any other lights turned on.

"Blaine. What's going on?" Kurt clasps Blaine's hand with both of his and looks at him in concern. "I'll help you with whatever it is. Don't be so afraid."

"I—" He doesn't seem to know how to begin. His eyes dart around the room before settling once more on Kurt.

"You can tell me." Kurt leans forward to brush Blaine's hair away from his eyes, letting his fingers linger on his cheek. "Just get it out."

"You won't … believe me."

"Of course I will! Blaine, just say it."

He takes another deep breath. "Okay. It's … well, I …"

But he doesn't get any further before his whole body stiffens. He gasps, and the hand that's in Kurt's becomes ice cold.

"Blaine! What—are you okay? Blaine, say something, please!"

The other boy's fingers dig into Kurt's hand before they curl and clench into a fist. Blaine wriggles out of Kurt's grasp and clings onto the sofa with both hands as though he's holding on for dear life. When he speaks, his voice is nothing more than a breath, and he seems to be choking out the words, fighting some internal battle to get them out. "Help. Help me before it's too … late. Before it … takes over. Before …" And then his body goes utterly still.

Kurt's heart is in his mouth, and the fear swirls through him like nausea. "Blaine!" he cries out, grabbing the boy's arm. His voice is desperate. "Blaine, can you hear me? Are you here? Snap out of it." He cracks on the last word. Confusion burns through his brain. What's happening? What's happening to Blaine? What did Blaine mean? What's taking over him?

At first, nothing appears to be changing. But then Kurt's gaze falls on Blaine's eyes, and he freezes.

The hazel is disappearing. The pupil of his eye is growing bigger, spreading outwards in the eye, devouring the iris and the sclera. In moments, the hazel and whites of Blaine's eyes have entirely disappeared, and they are nothing but two masses of a black sea. It looks terrifying and unreal to Kurt. He sits next to Blaine with his mouth hanging slightly open and his eyes wide, disbelief swimming across his mind at what he's seeing.

A smile curves upward on Blaine's lips. It's a twisted, cruel leer—and it's not Blaine's smile. And Kurt knows, without knowing how he knows, that the person staring at him right now is not Blaine—or at least, not the Blaine he has known for months.

"You came," he says, in a tone that sends chills up Kurt's spine. It is Blaine's voice, but it's his voice in a way that Kurt has never heard it before: cold and cunning, with hints of a growl. It has a dangerous edge to it, like the glint of a knife showing from within a coat. "I am so glad you did. I was waiting for you to come."

"Blaine?" he asks, even though he knows it's not. "What—what are you saying? Are you okay? You're acting … weird. What's wrong with your eyes?"

"My eyes are perfectly fine." The crude smile widens. "This is how they truly are, Kurt. But don't you worry. I'm not going to hurt you."

He repeats the line as he slowly leans toward Kurt. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. I won't cause you any harm, baby." But the words aren't believable. They have a mocking ring to them.

The glow of the lamp lights up Blaine's face in an eerie way as he moves over it, making him look even more demon-like than the black eyes already do.

"You've—you've never called me that before." Kurt is terrified. The fact that Blaine called him a pet name in such a creepy, possessive manner is proof to him that Blaine isn't himself right now—as though the eyes and the smile aren't proof enough.

"Oh?" An eyebrow raises. "And have I done this before?"

Blaine suddenly places a hand on Kurt's chest and pushes him down. Before Kurt can blink, Blaine has moved over him and is straddling him and pinning him down to the couch with his hands.

"Blaine! You're hurting me!" Kurt gasps and tries to shove Blaine off him, but Blaine only holds him down tighter.

"I am?" The smile turns into a twisted, sadistic expression. "Perfect."

He bends down and crushes Kurt's lips under his own, but it isn't pleasant. It's painful and it's too aggressive and violent. Blaine forces Kurt's mouth open and bites down on his lip, tearing at the skin. Kurt cries out in pain, and Blaine laughs into his mouth. He lifts his lips away from Kurt's and moves them to his ears. "It hurts?" he whispers. "That's good. It's going to hurt more, darling."

He sits up and shoves Kurt's head down into the sofa. His fingers rip at Kurt's jacket, ripping it off with a force that hurts him. Blaine's hands tear across Kurt's skin in a way that makes him squirm. Blaine's mouth takes possession of Kurt's again, and then something strange happens. Blaine seems to be sucking the air out of him, but it doesn't seem to just be air—rather something much bigger than that. It feels as though Blaine is pulling particles of life and energy out of Kurt, sucking away his very being. It's almost as if Blaine is sucking out fragments of Kurt's soul. And it burns.

And then Blaine stops. His body goes limp on top of Kurt's, and a moment later he gasps—the sound one makes upon resurfacing after being trapped underwater for far too long. He gets off Kurt quickly, and as he pulls away from him, Kurt sees the golden-brown flash of his eyes. He's himself again.

"Oh God," Blaine mutters, all the steel and iciness gone from his voice. Instead, it is faint and quivering like before. His face is wearing a mixture of horror and self-disgust. "Oh God. I—I'm so sorry, Kurt. I'm so sorry you had to experience that. God, how can I apologize for such a horrible thing? How am I supposed to explain that?"

Kurt tries to calm his whirring mind, but it is to no avail. He is still trying to comprehend what he just saw, what he just went through, and his brain keeps failing to register it. "What—what was that?"

Blaine sighs. "It was the demon inside of me, Kurt." His voice shows that he can barely believe his own words.

Kurt doesn't blame him. He doesn't respond. His mind is rejecting the idea of demons, the idea that a fantasy concept like that can actually exist.

Blaine continues speaking. The words tumble past his lips and trip over themselves, as if he's been waiting forever to let out his secret and talk to someone about this. "There are times when it takes over. I feel it coming and then I blank out and the next thing I know, I'm suddenly standing somewhere different from where I last was, and my hands are bloody or I'm hurting someone or something and I—I don't know how to stop it. But I'm not—not myself."

Kurt still can't process it, but his mouth seems to work on its own, separate from his stunned brain. "Bloody hands? Blaine, have you killed someone?"

"I don't know! I don't know, okay? I just blank out and the details of what happened are fuzzy after and …" Tears replace the words, spilling down his cheeks and sending tremors through his body, tears that make him look beautiful and broken. "I'm so sorry for hurting you, Kurt. God, I can't believe I did that. Please … no, I can't ask you to forgive me because I don't deserve it—"

"Of course you deserve it." Kurt places a gentle hand on Blaine's arm. He still can't understand what is going on, but he can't stand seeing Blaine so upset and so angry at himself. "You didn't mean to do what you did. I understand that much, even if it's really hard for me to accept this … this demon thing. Please stop being so hard on yourself, Blaine."

"Kurt, I'm so … scared. The blackouts keep getting more and more frequent. What if … what if I stop being Blaine entirely? What if the demon takes over for good and I'll be that thing forever?"

"Shh. It'll be okay." Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine and holds him again, rocking him back and forth as though he's a child of five. He wipes away Blaine's tears and holds him as he cries. "It's going to be okay. I'm here, Blaine. We'll figure something out, okay?"

Blaine buries his head into Kurt's shoulder. "Thanks, Kurt. Thanks for coming over and being here for me, even if you don't know how to believe the demon thing. Thanks for being there for me anyway."

Kurt just squeezes Blaine tighter.

The other boy stiffens in his arms once more. Kurt gasps.

He takes Blaine's face in his hands and lifts his chin so Kurt can see him. And sure enough, he finds what he's been dreading.

The eyes drown in a sea of darkness once more.