Summary: Kurt and Blaine practically grew up together and were best childhood friends. Until one day, a horrible car accident leaves Blaine dead and Kurt with 8 years of therapy. One day, Mr. Shue announces a new member to the club... Blaine Anderson. Kurt and Blaine soon find that they get a second chance at friendship, and maybe something more...

So I wrote this and its actually not that great but I think chapter one is better

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Prologue
***8 Years Ago***

Blaine and Kurt sat in the backseat of the Anderson's car, practically bouncing around in excitement. "I'm gonna go see the lions and the tigers and the bears!" Blaine stated.

"Oh, my!" Joked his mom.

"I'm mostly excited for the alligators!" Kurt proclaimed.

"Feeling bit adventurous today, are we, Kurt?" Asked Blaine's dad, chuckle in his voice.

"Oui, très!" (Yes, very!) Kurt exclaimed in fluent French. Before she passed away the year before, his mom had taken every opportunity she had to teach Kurt French, which she knew quite well, and now, he did too. He'd been speaking more and more in it since her death.

Blaine stuck his tongue out at him. "Show off. I can do that, too!"

"Only cause I taught you!" He replied. Kurt laughed. "And you can only say hello, and goodbye!"

"bonjour, au revoir," (Hello, goodbye) Blaine said in not so fluent French. Despite all the teasing, the boys had picked up a habit of using those two words when greeting and leaving each other, instead of plain old English.

"It's a good thing you two have your little hello and goodbyes," Mrs. Anderson started. "It's like your own little secret language, so if your bodies ever get taken over by aliens or something, you'll know which is fake."

Before Kurt could even open his mouth to respond, his entire weight was being thrashed around as an 18 wheeler came and slammed into the side opposite his seat and sent their car rolling. He felt his head being yanked around, and slam against the car a few times, knocking him out before the car finally rolled to a stop. Upside down.

The tears spilled from the frightened nine year old's eyes as he woke up, not knowing how long he'd been knocked out, and cried out for help. "Help!" He sobbed. He turned his head to look at Mrs. Anderson, who's neck was twisted at an awkward angle and laid there motionless. Her husband wasn't moving either, and had blood dripping all down his face. He turned to face his best friend. "Blaine," he pleaded. "Blaine wake up!"

The darker haired boy's eyes fluttered open and he cried out in agony, clutching his chest. "Kurt," he choked, voice weak and raspy. "It hurts to breathe." When he removed his hands, it was revealed that a piece of shrapnel had lodged itself in Blaine's lungs, and he had multiple lesions in his stomach as well as many cuts and scrapes all over his body, even some glass in his arms.

The sound of sirens wailing was coming closer and closer, louder and louder. "Blaine please, please, please stay awake," he begged hysterically. "Stay awake with me until help comes please, I'm so scared." He sobbed, and a searing pain shot through his legs.

"I'll try but, Kurtie, it hurts so much," Blaine breathed, face getting paler and paler as he lost more and more blood.

Kurt reached out for Blaine's blood soaked hand. "Don't leave me!" The sound of crunching and metal scraping against metal filled the car. "Hang on! They're almost here, just hold on, please!"

"I can't... Feel..." He barely managed. "I'm sorry, I just... I'm so sleepy... Kurt, I'm—" he took a sharp, painful breath in, and tried forcing a smile but it came out more of a grimace from the pain. "Au... rev—" before Blaine could finish his thought, he took two breaths before his eyes fluttered closed and didn't open up again.

Kurt felt Blaine's hand go limp, but still held on. "Blaine..? Blaine. Blaine!" He shouted. "Wake up, help!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. "Please help!"

Finally, the firemen got the door to open and unbuckled Kurt, but when they tried to take him out, he refused. "No you have to help him, please! Save them!" He begged. The fireman pulled Kurt out of Blaine's loose grasp and helped him into an ambulance, but not before he saw the same man check all three of the Andersons for pulses, look back, and sadly shake his head.

"No pulses from any of them."

Kurt's stomach dropped. He'd seen enough cop shows to know what that meant... "No... No!" He shouted. "You're lying! Why are you lying!" His voice cracked and his face crumpled as tears spilled from his eyes. "You have to save them..."

The fireman that had carried him out said. "I'm taking this kid to a medic, I think he's got a broken leg."

Kurt fought them every second they put him on the gurney, because they had to go back for them. They had to.

This couldn't be happening.

***

Kurt was sitting in the hospital bed with a cast on his leg, waiting for his dad to come when a little girl with brown skin and dark hair about his age came up towards him. "Heard you were in an accident." She stated. When Kurt stared right through her without replying, she kept going. "I know cause my dad's the fireman who took you out of the car."

Kurt turned towards her and bitterly said. "Well, he didn't save the rest of us."

"That's because it was too late," she answered sadly. "It happens a lot..." She looked down at her feet.

"Shut up!" Kurt snapped. "It wasn't too late! He could've saved them, but they just... Left them there..." His voice shook and his whole body trembled.

She took his hand and looked up at him with knowing eyes. "I'm sorry..." She said simply.

"I-It's ok," Kurt stuttered, looking down. He looked up at the girl. "Thanks..." He mumbled.

She nodded. "No problem... I have to go now, my day's on patrol again... I'm Santana, by the way. If you want me to come back I can."

Kurt tried to force a smile, but the result was still sort of a grimace.. "That'd be nice."

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It was two weeks after the accident and Kurt sat in Dr. Miller's office, still refusing to talk about it. The questions started off ok—How was your day? What do you like to do? Whats your favorite color?—but if they ever drifted towards cars or Blaine, Kurt would either shift the direction of the conversation, or stop responding.

Kurt didn't want to talk about what had happened. He didn't want to talk about the car or what he saw it what he said it anything. He just wanted to pretend like that day never happened. He didn't want to acknowledge the fact that there even was an accident.

Because that meant admitting Blaine was really gone.

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A/N: So the prologue was super short (and shitty sorry) but that is why I posted the first chapter up at the same time! :) also this is super depressing who let me write in the first place?