Blaine watched the familiar blonde hair glide down the halls of McKinley high, breaking into a jog to catch up with her. He followed her all the way to the choir room before she disappeared, and he realised where he was.

"Blaine? So good to see you, take a seat?" Mr. Schue approached cautiously, and Blaine found himself unable to reply, his air supply quickly caught in his throat. Mike pulled at the chair next to him, indicating for Blaine to join him, and with one meaningful look from Mr. Schuester, he did. Blaine tuned out most of Glee club, simply trying to deal with the fact that he was in the choir room. He began practicing the relaxation techniques his therapist taught him, feeling Kurt rub soothing circles on his back. When he finally opened his eyes, there she was, kneeling before him.

"Quinn" he choked out, before she disappeared and Blaine fell back into reality with a thud. He turned to see everyone looking at him, some confused, some sympathetic, and he couldn't take it. He jumped to his feet and ran, forgetting his bag, forgetting where he was or where he was supposed to be, his mind cleared of anything and everything that wasn't Quinn. He rushed straight past his car and kept going, the unfamiliar streets of Lima not fazing him one bit. He knew where he was going. He wasn't sure how long he'd been running when he reached Quinn's house, but he was out of breath. The door immediately flung open to reveal Judy Fabray, but Blaine ignored her, still trying to get his breath back. Quinn appeared next to him as his legs went numb and he fell to the ground, her bright smile the only thing lighting up the dark. It all went black.

When Blaine awoke, he carefully studied the ceiling and tried to remember where he was. Eventually he sat up, looking around. Quinn. Quinn. Quinn. Pictures of her everywhere. He felt surrounded, claustrophobic. He couldn't stay here. He jumped to his feet but almost fell again, the lack of energy becoming frustrating. Judy perched next to him and rubbed his arm softly as he calmed down, before suggesting she help him upstairs and he get some more sleep. He agreed and, with her help, made it to the Fabray's spare bedroom. Judy placed a sandwich and a glass of water on the table beside him and sat, urging him to eat. Once she'd made sure he'd finished every last crumb, she watched as his eyes began to flutter closed, leaving as he fell into a deep sleep. His eyes snapped open again only moments later, but Judy was already halfway down the stairs. Blaine opened his mouth, but no noise came out. Instead, he slid out of bed and crossed the hall, gently pushing on the cream door. Her room looked exactly the same. Same rosebud blankets, same pictures on the walls, same cuddly toys on the bed. He walked towards one wall subconsciously, and studied each picture in great detail. He imagined the scenario, Santana complaining about her hair and Brittany not staying still, Tina shying away but Quinn pulling her in, Puck tickling her until she left his mohawk alone, Artie laughing as Quinn landed in his lap. A fallen angel. Blaine hadn't realised he'd been crying until a sob rocked his body, and he fell backwards to find Quinn's bed. A light scent of lavender wafted from the bed covers and he pulled them around him, curling into a ball and inhaling deeply. His sobs began to subside as he found comfort in her smell; it was almost like she was there with him.

"I've phoned your parents, you can stay here tonight" Judy's eyes watered in the doorway, watching Blaine give a nod in response before his heavy breathing resumed. She fell back down the stairs, managing to contain her tears as she reached for the open bottle of red wine. Old habits die-hard.

The next day was Saturday, and after leaving the Fabray's, having refused all forms of breakfast out of fear of throwing-up, Blaine wasn't sure what to do with himself. He sure as hell didn't want to go home. There was once place he could go... but he'd been avoiding it at all costs. Still, he might see her there. So, with that thought in mind, Blaine set off towards the cemetery.

It was quiet. Blaine liked it. He passed plenty of people, well aware of the state he must look, but no one asked him how he was, or how he was coping, no one gave him a sympathetic or patronizing look, or a second look for that matter. They understood. Blaine liked it. His hand drifted into his pocket as he passed grave after grave, and he was surprised to feel something cool, tiny. He pulled out the small, gold chain, watching the cross hanging from it glint in the sunshine. He vaguely remembered Mrs. Fabray giving it to him, mentioning something about faith and praying for strength or guidance. He held the necklace as tight as he would've held her hand as he approached her gravestone. Puck and Santana looked up at him. Blaine had never seen either of them cry before. Puck gripped Blaine's shoulder before heading back to the car, the tune to 'Beth' stuck on repeat in his head. Santana remained knelt before Quinn's grave.

"Q once said, when you truly believe in yourself, you don't have to bring other people down," she whispered, but Blaine heard her as if she was screaming. "I miss her Blaine," she continued. Blaine sat next to her, tracing the words on the gravestone.

"Me too" he muttered, watching as Santana placed a bouquet of daisies before turning to leave. He stayed there for 5hours before he saw her, sat on her very own gravestone. His eyelids felt heavy, but he ignored it, simply smiling at the angel before him. He watched her perfect mouth move, but couldn't hear a word she was saying. She grew frustrated, obviously trying to get a message across. Blaine simply watched. He sat for another 5hours and watched, embracing, memorizing every detail before he fell into a restless slumber. It was cold and it was dark when Blaine felt himself being pulled into someone's arms and then gently placed in a car. He spent that night at Noah Puckerman's house, still not ready to go home. They looked at pictures of Quinn, and Beth, and they cried. They openly cried together, and it was the most proud Mrs. Puckerman had ever felt of her son. She hadn't liked the fact that he had gotten a girl pregnant at 16, but she had definitely liked the effect that girl had had on her son.

Sunday morning Blaine went to church. To Quinn Fabray's church. He sat in the pews and ignored the looks he was receiving. He knew the gel had lost its hold in its hair, he knew he hadn't shaved since Thursday and he knew he must look terrible. But he didn't care. He sang along to the hymns, he memorized the prayers; he endured the mass, for Quinn. His parents were waiting for him when he left the church, and he returned to the car without protest. He watched the 2hour drive back to Westerville go by, and felt more and more distance be put between himself and Quinn. Leaving Lima was like leaving her. But somehow he managed it. It hurt like hell, but it felt like progress.

The next day Blaine was showered and fed, and back in Lima, at school. He felt close to Quinn again. He felt her warm, hazel eyes follow him around. He saw her once, and she was lighter than usual, paler, translucent, he was just grateful to see her. He listened to Kurt and Mercedes at lunch, and even laughed a few times. Definitely progress.

The Warblers tried to get to him to sing. He refused. The New Directions tried to get him to sing. He refused. He spent all evening singing to Quinn's grave.

He picked up Quinn's iPod from her locker, chuffed with himself for remembering her combination. She had been listening to Red Jumpsuit Apparatus - Your Guardian Angel. He played it on repeat for the rest of the day.

I will never let you fall,

I'll stand up with you forever,

I'll be there for you through it all.

He took it as a sign. She would never truly leave him. He held her cross necklace tightly, but felt the feel of her hand in his slip away.

He jumped as the familiar flash of blonde glided past the choir room. He hadn't seen her in nearly a week, so he quickly ran out to follow it, ignoring the cries of Mike and Tina.

"Quinn, QUINN" he called after her, but she kept moving. Her blonde curls cascaded down her back, causing Blaine to smile.

"Its time to say goodbye, Blaine" Kurt whispered from behind him, but Blaine refused to draw his eyes away from the angel before his eyes. Quinn slowly approached Blaine, wanting to draw out their goodbye just as much as he did.

"Don't leave me," Blaine pleaded, dropping to his knees, "I'm not ready to let you go"

"You're ready, Blaine. Quinn, it's time to go" Kurt's soft voice rang out and Quinn's head bobbed in response. Blaine clutched the small cross in his sweaty palm.

"My angel" Blaine smiled affectionately, his eyes watering as a bright flash of light blended with the blonde hair he loved so much, and she was gone, her last smile etched in his memory for good.

"Say it Blaine. Accept it"

"She's gone. Dead"