There are two things Blaine has learned since dying. The first is that ghosts are real, considering he is one, the second is that whatever higher power is in charge of the universe has a great sense of humor for making him be high school age forever in his afterlife. It's been over 50 years and he still hasn't figured out this ghost thing, and it feels like he never will. When one is alive, they think of ghosts as these invisible, floating around, hating everyone who is alive type creatures. Yet somehow, Blaine still feels completely human, well, except for the not getting older part.
He's been enrolled at Dalton Academy the past seven years, otherwise, he bounces from school to school. Sure, he can do anything he wants to instead of go to high school, but by the time he figured out he was dead and was going to be stuck on earth for the rest of eternity, he decided he had plenty of time to go travel the world and do whatever he wanted. It was always puzzling to him why no one ever questioned that a boy seemed to always be there and never graduate. Blaine guessed it was some sort of weird "ghost power". They always forgot about him.
One of his favorite things about Dalton, and a reason why he stays, is because of the Warblers. It fascinates him how music changes and the creativity of the council and their arrangements always astounds him. He was a member even before he died, and it's the best part of the day. However, he was falling into a tedious routine again. Perhaps it was this year's council always wanting to sing the worst of the current pop songs, or maybe it was doing the same thing every day for years on end. He was running down the staircase on his way to an impromptu performance, considering that maybe he will go explore the world again. He had loved London when he visited 30 years ago, maybe it's due time to go back again for awhile. A light tap on his shoulder snapped him from his thoughts.
"Excuse me? May I ask you a question? I'm new here."
Blaine had reached the point quite a few years ago to find humor in his death. As soon as he bean figuring out who he was in life, his life was taken away from him. For a long time he was bitter and angry, but it was in his nature that he couldn't stay that way for long.
He always knew he was different when he was alive. Instead of trying to catch a peek up the skirts of cheerleaders doing kicks and flips at football games like all his other friends, he would stare at the way the tight pants of the football team's uniform would accent the curves of the muscles of the legs of the boys. Blaine had heard stories of those people from his father when he was in the war, though he had never understood fully what he meant until he reached high school. Shame overtook Blaine's body, he refused to acknowledge any feelings he might have. He tried to force himself to think differently, to look at girls, go and enjoy the dates with various girls his parents set up for him. But there was...nothing.
Until he met Johnny.
At lunch, Blaine always sat alone. He was picking at the cold mystery meat that was served in the cafeteria, when a very handsome boy, no, he wasn't allowed to think like this, sat down on the bench on the opposite side of the table.
"I know about you." He had said.
Blaine looked up at last. He had always prided himself in his ability to keep calm under pressure, and this was no exception.
"Hmm?"
"You like boys." Blaine coughed into his food, okay, now he began to panic. "It's fine, I do too."
"No, I don't, it's wrong," Blaine hissed at this boy, he didn't even know him, how dare he make assumptions. Eyes darted wildly looking at the fellow students.
"I've seen how you look at the football team." The boy continued, "My name's Johnny by the way," and held out his hand. Blaine raised a skeptical eyebrow, but still shook the boy's hand and answered with his own name.
They became fast friends. Johnny was a year older, a senior, and just knew so much about the world. He opened up Blaine's eyes, giving a broader perspective of the world than what his small Ohio town had given him. Some days they could talk for hours, discussing current world issues, gossiping, and talking about absolutely nothing.
"But how do you know exactly? How do you know we're not...broken?" Blaine had asked once. Johnny answered by gently pressing his lips to Blaine's, but quickly pulling into something deeper. When they separated, Blaine was flustered and let out a small giggle he was not proud of. "Oh, I liked that." He smiled.
Blaine feels that in the end he may have gotten a bit too radical with his ideas.
"So, the dance is coming up." Blaine was telling Johnny one day at his locker, "and I was thinking, maybe we could go, together? Well not together together, but buy single tickets and just go?" Oh god, Blaine was rambling again. He started always having a weird feeling around Johnny, not a bad weird, just, weird. It somehow felt...right.
"That would be lovely," Johnny smiled.
Their relationship was ambiguous to Blaine, he wasn't really sure what they were. Johnny was his friend, best friend in fact, but every chance they could get they were discreetly holding hands under a table, or sharing quick kisses almost every time they were alone. He slowly grew more confident as Johnny told him stories he researched of other people, like them, making it work.
When the dance finally came both boys dressed in sharp suits and was dropped off by Johnny's dad, who would come pick them up after the dance had ended. Lights flashed in the gym, illuminating the tacky streamers and decorations pinned up on the walls and hanging from the ceiling. Both boys danced with various girls who had bravely come up to them. Blaine had kept his eyes on Johnny, wishing it was him who he was dancing with. After about an hour, they decided to leave, the dance wasn't for them.
"Sorry, it was a stupid idea to go, I knew we shouldn't have gone-" Dammit, he was rambling again.
"Blaine." Johnny interrupted, "It was fine, just a bit too stuffy. I just needed some fresh air," and he gave the small half-smile that makes Blaine go weak at the knees. They linked arms, walking down an empty hallway into the fresh air, too cold to be spring, too warm to be winter.
They sat on a small patch of grass in front of the school, silence consumed them, until Blaine broke it.
"I honestly have no clue what I'm doing."
Johnny grabbed his hand and replied, "Neither do I," and pulled him in for a kiss. Blaine took a breath in and deepened the kiss. They fell on top of each other, laying down on the grass, not caring if their clothes were getting dirty or wrinkled, they would deal with it later. Their hands explored each other, Blaine's in Johnny's sandy colored hair, the other boy's around Blaine's waist, trying to get closer, even though it was impossible. Blaine could feel Johnny's hips roll into his and a small groan escaped his lips. His brain was screaming this was dirty, nasty, wrong, but it felt oh so right.
They didn't even hear the three jocks sneak up on them.
Falling in love with Kurt wasn't supposed to happen. When they had first met, Blaine saw a boy that needed help, someone to be saved. He allowed himself to become friends, because all of Blaine's friends always forgot about him in the end. But they became closer, and Blaine began to have feelings that he shouldn't have. Kurt told him that he had feelings too and Blaine just pushed the emotions aside.
But Kurt, sweet Kurt, reminded him of what it really means to have emotion, to be human. When he came into the common room, tears streaming down his face, dressed in mourning for Pavarotti, everything Blaine had been hiding and tucked away, came rushing to him.
Oh. He's in love with Kurt.
He woke up when his casket was being lowered into the ground. It was a sunny day, still cool enough for a coat. From the distance he was at, he could see a small crowd surrounding it. A red hat, his mother's hat, stood out from a sea of black. When he saw the familiar item is the moment things started to slowly click into place. Blaine was confused and he waited until the mourners left so he could see who had died.
It's quite a feeling to see your name on a tombstone.
The first, and only time, he had tried to see his parents was the most difficult. He was cold, freaked out, confused, and had no place to be. He had no clue what was happening, and as almost any lost child would do, he went to his parents. The door opened to reveal his dad. Blaine smiled when he saw that he was not invisible, but it quickly faded.
"Is this some sort of sick joke? Our son was killed a month ago." A flicker of grief flashed over his father's face.
"But..."
"Leave please, before I call the cops."
After that, Blaine had spent many hours staring at himself, wondering why no one could recognize him. Everything was the same. He scoured the newspapers, searching for answers. In the paper from the day after the dance, there was an article about two boys who were found brutally beaten outside of his school after the school dance. One boys was in the hospital, in critical condition, the other boy died in the ambulance.
So that was it. Blaine Anderson was dead.
Kurt's graduation was the next day and Blaine had no clue what he was doing. Kurt had begun to only talk about their future together, details upon details. It terrified Blaine because he can't fulfill Kurt's plans. He would be stuck like he is now for who know how long, someday Kurt will get old and he also will be buried. It destroyed Blaine knowing how much he had hidden from Kurt, leading him on to believe that a future together would be possible.
"We've always been honest with each other." Kurt's words rung in his head. Blaine stood up and walked out the door with a mission.
"Kurt, we need to talk." Blaine rushed the words out as soon the front door of Kurt's house opened.
"Uh. I'll go get him." Finn answered.
Kurt's footsteps were soon hear rushing down the stairs. "Blaine? What's wrong?"
"Come with me," he simply said and took Kurt's hand to his car. They drove in silence, Kurt trying to pry something out of Blaine, and ended up being shushed. Three hours Blaine drove until they stopped in front of a cemetery, starting to wear from the years.
The last time he had been here was when his mother had died. He stood in the background, observing the service. His relatives were so much older, yet he didn't feel any different. This is when he realized that this was his life now. He would always remain the same, forever a seventeen year old, and he would watch the world grow old and die around him. He swore to never be close to anyone, because it would only end in heartbreak.
He broke this rule when he met Kurt. Everything had changed, he hadn't realized that it was all different now. Blaine felt like he was living again, his mind matched his body, a teenager again. Over the years, from regret and denial, he had retreated so far into himself that he forgot what it was like to feel. Kurt made him remember again.
They made their way around the maze of headstones, Blaine gripping tightly onto Kurt's hand. A feeling of foreboding overcame Blaine as they got closer to their destination. "I want you—I want you to meet my parents," Blaine finally spoke his voice piercing the quiet atmosphere. He knelt down in front of the headstones etched with his parent's names on it. Waves of emotion swept over him as he stared at the cold marble. Flowers, he thought, next time he will bring flowers.
"I—I had no clue Blaine. You should have..." Kurt paused, "Wait. These dates say they died over 20 years ago. But that's impossible if these are your parents." Glancing up at Kurt, finally showing his true age in his eyes, Blaine pointed in the direction of a marker just behind his parents, his own grave. Kurt hesitantly walked over there and paused for a minute that lasted an eternity. "Is this a joke?" Kurt spun around on his heel, his voice loud. "So you found some dead person with the same name as you and decided to play a prank on me? Is that what is happening right now?" Kurt seemed furious and confused. Getting up from his knees, he stood over by his boyfriend and put his hands on Kurt's shoulders.
"Kurt, this isn't a joke. I died over fifty years ago. You could call me a ghost, I guess, but I'm not really sure what I am." He took Kurt's hands and held them on his chest, just over where his heart should be. "Here, feel."
"There's nothing..."
"Exactly, no heartbeat. If you slit open my wrists, which believe me, I have tried, there wouldn't be any blood." Blaine tried to calmly explain, yet Kurt's eyes started to shine with tears.
"I don't understand." Kurt whispered. Blaine took his hand and cupped Kurt's jaw, angling his face to make eye contact.
"Neither do I." He tried to give a reassuring smile.
"So if you were still alive..." Kurt trailed off at the end of the sentence.
Blaine was unsure of what Kurt was asking, "I would be about 70 years old." Kurt then made a face of disgust and exclaimed,
"Ugh! I've been dating a pedophile!" and turned around, heading back to the entrance. Blaine chased after him, desperate to set things right.
"No, Kurt, wait! No! Kurt, please." Blaine pleaded, trying to grab Kurt's arm, but it was just pulled away from him.
"Why did you bring me here? To break up with me in a graveyard? Because this is absolutely impossible. There's nothing after death. You just die and that's it. I still say this is some cruel joke, and well, it's not very good." Kurt spat. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Blaine felt wounded, struggling for the right thing to say.
"No, well, yes. Please Kurt, just listen. I brought you here because I needed to tell you something, and I couldn't do that without explaining the whole story. Tomorrow at your graduation is the last time you will see me. I'm going to go travel the world for a few years, going places I haven't been to yet. We can't be together anymore, we don't have a future."
"No, Blaine, I need you. You need to come with me to New York and-"
"Kurt, listen. I am not what you need. We can't spend our lives together because I have no life to spend. What you need is to graduate tomorrow and then go to school in New York and prove all the assholes in this town wrong and show them what you can do. You are going to graduate from college and throw yourself straight into auditioning for almost any role you can get your hands on. It will be tough, and at times you will feel like giving up, but you will meet someone new. Someone who will support you in every step of the way, and Kurt, you will make it. You will be married in the wedding you have been planning for your entire life, and once you settle down, have a steady income, you will adopt a kid or two. You will grow old with your husband, watching your children grow up and have your grandkids, and maybe if you live long enough, great-grandkids. That is the life you will have Kurt Hummel, and I..." Blaine choked up, "I won't, can't, be a part of it."
"But you can be."
"No, I can't. What you're looking at is what I'm going to be for the rest of this world's life. I can't live a life with you because I have no life to live. I love you, Kurt, and I will probably always love you, which is exactly why I have to let you go."
Kurt was openly sobbing, and with his instinct, Blaine wrapped himself around him, enveloping him into a tight hug. "I know, it will hurt for a long time, but someday you will understand. I promise."
The dust had finally settled from when Blaine had dropped his overstuffed bad onto the floor. Blaine looked around the run down living room, still exactly like he remembered it. It had been five years since his mother had died, and earlier in the month, Blaine had decided to see what his old house is like now. Much to his horror, it had been left abandoned. Weeds overtook the garden that once was green and was perfected by his mother's countless hours spent there. Paint was peeling, the once grand Anderson home was now a run down dump.
He had bought the place (he really needed to stop spending money, though he always ended up fine in the end), and he had planned on doing, well, something. There was no way he could let his home go to waste.
Blaine surveyed the grimy pictures on the fireplace mantle. His parents and his sister stared back at him, but none of him. He could feel his stomach drop. Did his parents just completely forget about him? He examined the pictures closer. Many of them must have been taken after he had died, his sister was older (she was only two when he died), his parent's faces etched with worry and age.
Suddenly, he heard the front door open with a bang and the clicking of high heels were in the hallway. "Excuse me? What exactly do you think you're doing buying this house?" Blaine spun around to greet a very angry, middle-aged woman storming towards him. "Oh, great, even worse. What's your plan kid, what do you want to deface first?"
"No," Blaine stuttered, "Well, I was the one who bought this place." The woman raised an eyebrow.
"Bit young for buying houses, aren't you?"
"I'm older than I look." Blaine answered back. "So, who exactly are you?"
She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "My name is Susan Henriks, and I have been trying the past few years to stop companies tearing this house down and build whatever the hell they want here." She began to look around, "Well it's not much anymore, but..." she trailed off.
"Well, if it helps, I wasn't going to tear it down. Maybe renovate, I'm sure with a bit of work this house would be absolutely gorgeous." Blaine smiled, and Susan smiled back.
"It was," she had a glint in her eye and showed a wider smile when she picked up a picture off the mantle. Blaine tilted his head, "Oh. Sorry, my maiden name is Anderson, I grew up in this house."
"Susie," Blaine gasped. "I, uh, was looking around at the family albums, uh."
"It's okay kid, I outgrew that name anyways. Say, what's your name?"
"Blaine."
"Funny, that was my brother's name."
Susie had let him renovate the house, occasionally helping around. He could never really tell her who he was, why would she believe him? She had a knack for the garden, the days she spent there reminded him so much of his childhood, watching his mother perfect the garden. Years passed, he had a few distractions, mainly one named Kurt, and it took longer than he wanted to complete his project. Finally, a couple years after Kurt's graduation, Blaine finally felt satisfied, and his home was complete, like his childhood home.
"Thank you." Susie had said, "for this. I think my parents would have loved it, and I'm sure they would have loved you. It's going to be sad to see you go."
It took everything Blaine had to blink back tears. "Well, things to see, places to go."
"I want to know your secret, how you stayed the same all these years. It's like your immortal!" They both began laughing.
"Good genetics." He stated. "Though I have always felt that being young forever is a bit overrated anyways."
The door bell echoed through the house, and Blaine pulled his coat tighter to protect himself from the crisp wind. A young, pregnant nurse opened the door. Her face grew hard at the sight of Blaine.
"Hi, sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if I could see Kurt Hummel? I have something for him," Blaine held up a small package. The woman began to close the door. "Ma'am please, this is important."
"My grandfather doesn't take too kindly to strangers." A noise behind the lady bought the attention of the two people. Blaine saw the source of the noise and smiled the biggest he has in almost 75 years. Kurt shared the same familiar smile back, his bright eyes shining.
"Let the poor boy in, dear, it's cold outside." He said. The granddaughter stepped aside, letting Blaine inside the house. Blaine surveyed the interior, it had so much of a Kurt touch to it. The two men's eyes met each others and gave knowing glances. "Come in! Come in! We'll be in the other room, Katie." He slowly walked over to Blaine and took his arm, leading him to the room.
"Grandfather, it's almost time for your medicine and nap." Katie said disapprovingly. Kurt merely waved his hand. "Well, Grandpa would listen to me."
"Your grandpa isn't here right now." The statement was short, hiding a hint of sadness. They entered the small room, it had a feeling of comfort, with two armchairs placed in front of a fireplace, and Kurt pulled Blaine into a hug. Now in his arms, Blaine could feel how frail Kurt was, he was afraid of squeezing too tight and breaking him in half. A motion was made to sit down, and Blaine took a seat in an armchair. Kurt took a framed picture off of a small table and handed to Blaine. "That was my granddaughter, Katie. She's pregnant with her first child, great-grandchildren, Blaine! Could you imagine?" His face shone with pride as he sank into the chair. "In the picture are my other grandkids, and their father, my son, Blaine."
Blaine's mouth fell open, "Kurt..."
"Erik and I sort of got ahead of ourselves when we first adopting, we were hoping for a girl, but we ending up with a boy! We had to rush around, and ended up naming him the first boy's name that popped into my head."
"I'm flattered. I—thank you. You, though, look fabulous as always." Blaine patted Kurt's knee, who nodded thanks.
"You can say it, you know, 'I told you so'." Kurt sighed. Both men thought of the day in the cemetery, the strong, harsh, kind, words Blaine had said to Kurt. Blaine looked at the Kurt who sat in front if him, age etched upon his face, good and bad memories hidden in his eyes, a life lived, no regret.
"No, I couldn't do that. Here," he handed Kurt the package, kneeling on the ground next to Kurt's chair, "this is for you."
"Thank you! Could you help, my hands don't work as well as they used to." Blaine nodded, taking the package and tearing off the paper. He took out each item, pictures, little trinkets, and other various items, bringing back the memories that they shared together so many years before. Kurt's eyes were wet with tears. "You always squinted in our pictures, it was so annoying."
"Hey now," Blaine playfully swatted Kurt's arm. A knock on the door made them turn around and Katie stood in the doorway.
"Grandfather, you really need your medicine and nap. We have a routine to follow, remember?"
"A few more minutes, please." Kurt sighed. Katie nodded and walked out. When she was gone, Kurt reached his hand and brushed away a tear forming in the corner of Blaine's eye. Blaine grabbed the hand and squeezed it. "Do you think there's more people like you out there, Blaine?"
"I don't know. I mean, it's not the best conversation starter, is it? Hi, my name's Blaine and I died over a hundred years ago, how are you?" They both laughed. Blaine took Kurt's hand to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to it. "You know, there could be. Who knows?"
"Maybe I could come back." His voice was barely audible. "It's almost here anyways." It didn't have to be said what he was talking about. Blaine stood up, still holding Kurt's hand, and gave it another small squeeze before letting go.
"Hey, forever is a long time, I'm sure we could find each other again."