This is set after a nuclear war. Blaine and Finn participated in the war together. Blaine is older than Kurt (and Finn) by a few years and Karofsky is an adult. First fanfic, wish me luck! :)


Finn ran through the field filled with smoke. He could not see, he could not hear, nor could he breathe. Panic flooded through his body; this hadn't been what he wanted. He did not account for the terror, death and pain he would be surrounded by when he decided to fight in the war. He had decided to fight because of patriotism, a patriotism that fled from him as soon as he began to fight. Sitting at camp was worse for him; sometimes, he'd revisit scenes from previous battles. He'd see his comrade's deaths, their bodies seeping with blood, life drained from each body, but eyes still frozen with terror.

He had left his family for the war. They lived in a bomb shelter, but he couldn't have dealt with that. He always needed to be moving; he would have gone crazy only staying in that small space. Right before he left, he and his father had a brawl and thoughts of the fight haunted him every night. The world began to change around him. Every morning when he woke up, the world was a different place. Color faded first, then friendships, then emotion, and then everything was made of stone.

Finn ran away from an invisible enemy; through the entire war, he never saw the people he was fighting against. Occasionally, a nuclear bomb would be dropped nearby one of their camps. In the past, they had killed everyone within thousands of miles and made everyone within millions of miles sick. With new technology, the soldiers were able to keep themselves safe from the bombs. They wore protective suits, goggles, and air purifiers. If a man got desperate enough, he'd take off all of his protection. The toxic air would kill him instantly. It was a quick way out.

Each step sent a shock up his leg and spine, momentarily rattling his brain. If it weren't for the pain, he would not have been able to tell he was moving. He was simply following what he felt: senseless terror. Everything was black, still and silent. The calamity around him could not penetrate the barrier his brain put up to block it out. His body protected his mind through instinct; he protected himself from everything around him by blocking it out, but it put him in even more danger than he was previously in.

Smoke filled his lungs with every excruciating breath; he didn't know whether he wanted to survive the war, or die that very second. The latter sounded more appealing. He could smell burning flesh, and as he decided he wanted to live through the fight, he received a gunshot to the right side of his head. It was a fatal blow, though it had only grazed his head; he had not five minutes to live. All his senses came back to him as the pain coursed through his body. He could hear, see and feel everything, but he could not focus on one or the other. Everything blended into all the other things until Finn's brain couldn't function.

A person's thumping footsteps nearly ran him over once he lay on the ground. The person paused, aware of Finn dying. He was dying without love, without comfort, without hope.

"Finn?" Blaine asked, shocked.

"Yeah," he said with a short laugh that quickly turned into a cough. Coherent speech and thought were barely possible for him. Another gun shot came and hit him in the stomach. He screamed in agony, and then moaned as the pain spread through his body.

"You're dying."

"Yeah." He was amazed at how articulate his friend was.

"I… well…" Blaine searched for something to say. Death had never shaken him; it had never made him suffer. He had seen so many people dead, and had killed even more. Seeing how Finn still didn't become a bad person even on the verge of death stirred something inside of him. He couldn't quite figure out what was going on inside of him, but he knew it wasn't familiar.

"Blaine," Finn gasped as he tried to keep a hole on life. "You need to protect my brother." It was a random request.

"What?" he clarified.

"Blaine," Finn started again. "If you ever find my family, you need to protect them." Blood began to pool around him, picking up particles of dirt and skin. "Especially my brother." Blaine hadn't remembered he had a brother. "His name is Kurt." The color had drained from Finn's face, blood filled his mouth and lungs. He tried to wipe it off his face, but because it was so sticky, he only spread it more. "You have to." At age 18, the young man died. He would never manage to see his family again. He would never manage to tell his father how truly sorry he was. He would never get the chance to tell his brother just how much he meant to him.

The one thing he did manage, however, was to give his brother some protection for the future. Of course, it wouldn't matter that he had done that if he was dead, but if he wasn't then he saved the boy. If Blaine died then the plan was also void, but despite its weaknesses, he had ensured the safety of his brother.