(A/N): This is merely a story for a contest that yu-oka is having. The contest is to write something with BadBoy!Blaine and Angel!Kurt because she drew a picture with the same idea. I thought I'd try just for the heck of it, so, ENJOY! :]

Also, in this AU story, Kurt is actually an angel, as in heaven, God, etc. Not died, gone to heaven, and guarding Blaine. I only chose to use the religion here because it fit well. This is not meant to discriminate against other religions at all. And if there is anything that is wrong or off, I apologize.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters Kurt Hummel or Blaine Anderson in any way. I am not making profit from this story, and I do not own Glee. All rights to Ryan Murphy and FOX.

The name of this fanfiction is simply the title of the drawing yu-oka did, because that was the inspiration for their appearance and the idea.


A Life-Changing Moment


"Come on, Blaine. Don't wuss out. Do it!" Ryan murmured, nudging him out of the alleyway. "She's right there!"

Blaine bit the inside of his cheek. Ryan was his only friend- if he could even really be called that. He had just been one of the first to talk to him at Blaine's new school. He was pretty funny and he was always there for Blaine. The only problem was that Ryan wasn't the most accepted person in Ohio.

Adults everywhere hated him. He drank, smoked, broke laws, and was covered in tattoos and piercings. Not that it was bad to have tattoos or piercing or anything, but it just made him fit the stereotype that much more. Blaine's parents hated that Ryan had an influence on their son. That's mostly why Blaine enjoyed Ryan's company so much; it made his parents hilariously angry.

Blaine couldn't say much for himself, either. Ever since he began hanging out with Ryan, his grades dropped, he had begun drinking sometimes, he smoked quite often, and he was the proud owner of a large dragon tattoo, along with a few piercings.

As a matter of fact, Blaine was being urged to do something quite illegal at that very moment. Ryan wanted him to snatch the purse of Mrs. Stanley, one of the richer women in the town. Ryan was low on money and he wanted to buy another pack of cigarettes. He had promised to get Blaine a few, too.

Blaine sighed and watched as Mrs. Stanley set her bulging wallet back into her oversized purse. She then wrapped the strap onto the back of her chair.

Blaine received another, sharper nudge from Ryan.

"C'mon, Blaine! Hurry. We both want some smokes, and maybe we can buy some beer off of my dad," Ryan urged.

Blaine growled out a reply, "Would you wait a second? I'm waiting for the perfect moment. She keeps twisting the strap of it around her finger. If I grab it now, I'll be rippin' her finger off with it."

"So?" Ryan laughed, jokingly. "She could probably afford to buy another one. I mean, look at her! She's wearing a fur coat in June. Who does that?"

Blaine smiled and rolled his eyes at Ryan. He waited a few more minutes, and when he noticed that Mrs. Stanley was busy gossiping with another older woman, he advanced slowly towards the table.

When he was a few feet away, he flipped up the hood of his red and black hoodie to hide his face. His hand reached out for the heavy-looking purse.

Don't do it, Blaine. It's not right. That money was hard-earned, and you are about to steal it like a filthy cheat.

Blaine's hand paused, his hand mid-air. Whipping his head around, he looked for the source of the high, clear voice. All he spotted was a confused Ryan, who was hiding behind the dumpster in the alleyway.

"Blaine? Blaine Anderson, is that you?" Blaine turned again to the sound of his voice. His expression was dazed. Where did the first voice come from?

This time, the voice had belonged to Mrs. Stanley. Blaine dropped his guilty hand quickly, faking a smile for Mrs. Stanley.

"You bet," he grinned.

"My, how you've- changed," Mrs. Stanley gave Blaine a scrutinizing look from head to toe. He watched her eyes pause in disgust at the tattoo wrapping around his shoulder and up to his neck. They made another stop at the piercing in his eyebrow, along with those in his ear.

"Yeah, well I was tired of being disgustingly posh and snobby, like my father," Blaine chuckled cruelly. "I gotta go now."

Mrs. Stanley gave a weak, disinterested wave as Blaine hurried to Ryan's side.

"Dude, what the hell was that?" Ryan practically screeched.

Blaine shrugged, embarrassed. "I thought I heard someone calling my name or something."

Ryan shook his head. "No one did, Blaine. Don't go crazy on me."

"Yeah, sorry. It won't happen again, I promise."

Ryan groaned and looked around. "There's not anyone around here that can easily be purse-snatched. Come on, I've got an idea."

He pulled Blaine's arm into his hand and dragged him along.


They arrived at a cheap, run-down gas station. Blaine looked at Ryan suspiciously.

"Why are we here?"

"I'm going to distract the old dude at the register. When I do, go behind the counter and get some Camel 99's. Well, anything is fine. Just not menthols, those things are disgusting."

Blaine agreed with a sigh. Suddenly, Ryan walked down the aisle that had food. Blaine spotted a row of those disgusting fruit spreads that his grandma had always made him eat. They were in glass jars.

Ryan pushed Blaine to the front of the store. Blaine- from the front- couldn't see Ryan, but he heard the bright shatter of glass.

Suddenly, Ryan ran to the front of the store.

"Excuse me, sir," he said, getting the older man's attention. "I was here getting some grape jelly for my little sister, but I guess I'm a bit too clumsy. I dropped one of the jars. I mean, I could pay for it, I guess, but my momma only gave me a few bucks."

"It's fine, young man. How about you show me where you dropped it and I'll clean it right up."

"Okay," Ryan smiled, guiding the man to the furthest aisle. He turned and gave Blaine a thumbs up.

Blaine hurried behind the register and fumbled around the cigarettes, looking for the ones Ryan had wanted. He noticed some more brands under the counter, so he knelt down and ransacked through them. Finally he found the right ones. He grabbed a few packs and began standing up, but before he did, he paused. He knelt down again and grabbed a few more packs along with a couple cans of beer that the old man must've kept back with him. He stood and noticed Ryan shooting him looks over the aisle.

Blaine hurried towards the door, but when he ran towards it, it didn't open. Blaine had smacked into the glass door, hitting his head and nearly dropping everything. When he regained his balance, he looked at the door.

That's when he noticed the pale hand on the other side of the door, holding it shut. His curious eyes trailed up the hand to a toned arm, then to a nude shoulder that had the milkiest skin he had ever seen. The shoulder led to a neck, which led to the face of a boy.

God, the face of that boy- He was beautiful. Practically flawless.

One could even call him heavenly.

Blaine made eye contact with the boy before noticing that the boy was nearly naked, except for a slight wrap of white silk around his waist.

He watched in amazement as the boy nonchalantly rolled his shoulders. That's when the wings came out.

Yes, wings.

They were ginormous. The purely-white feathers were bright and a few other feathers seemed to reflect color.

Blaine looked the boy in the eye again. The boy stared hard, mouthing the four words, "Don't do it, Blaine."

The boy repeated the phrase. Blaine shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. There was no way the boy was real. Blaine had hit his head pretty hard; this must be a side effect. Hallucinations or something.

But why was he hallucinating of an angelic boy?

When he opened his eyes, the boy was gone, but Ryan was next to him.

"Dude, come on. The old guy is coming back."

Blaine looked around the parking lot as they hurried away from the gas station. No boy to be seen.


They finally reached their hide-out. Their hide-out really was only a shed on top of the roof of the apartment building Ryan's family stayed in.

"Great job, Blaine. Beer and cigs. Perfect," Ryan smiled at Blaine. He opened a pack of cigarettes, slipping one into his mouth and lighting it. His eyes slid shut as he enjoyed a short inhale, and also as he let the smoke find its way out through his nose in a misshapen puff of white.

Blaine grabbed two beers, opening them and handing one to Ryan. Ryan thanked him and grabbed it.

"So, Blainers. What happened back there?"

Blaine looked at Ryan questioningly. "Whadaya mean, Ry?"

"Back at the gas station. I looked up to you to see how much more time you'd need, but you were just standing there, staring at the door like an idiot."

"Oh, it's nothing," Blaine lied, lighting up a cigarette.

"Did you see something? And don't lie."

Blaine rubbed his chin. "Yeah, I saw a boy. I'm pretty sure it was a hallucination, though."

Ryan nodded. "Didja think he was cute or something?"

That was another thing about Ryan. He knew that Blaine was gay, and he was completely fine with it.

Blaine shrugged. "He was really cute, actually."

"Too bad he was a hallucination," Ryan laughed, elbowing Blaine's ribs.

Blaine just laughed along with him.


Blaine forced his heavy eyelids open. He felt a warm arm draped over his waist comfortably. As he scanned his surroundings, he realized that it was morning, and he must have fallen asleep in the hide-out. He wasn't the only one; Ryan was lying next to him.

Blaine snuggled closer jokingly. "Good morning, Sweetie," he laughed. Ryan grasped him closer and smiled.

"G'morning, Hon," Ryan replied with a huge grin.

Blaine winked at him. "Y'know, Ryan, sometimes I question your claims of heterosexuality."

Ryan merely snuggled closer in a friendly fashion, "Oh, come on, Blainers. You know that if I didn't have a thing for boobs and, you'd be the first I'd call."

Both boys laughed heartily before Blaine sat up. "M'kay, well I better get home. My mom's probably spamming the police station with phone calls."

"Okay," Ryan replied. "Text me. And meet me here at 9 tonight. I'll get some vodka from my old man and we can really have some fun."

Blaine agreed and made his way home.


Later that night, Blaine climbed out of his window. He had been grounded, but that had never stopped him before.

He hurried to the motorcycle that his uncle had gotten him. Usually, he would have walked the few blocks to the hide-out, but he felt like making his parents aware that he was leaving.

He opened the garage door, revved the engine loudly, and sped away from the large home. He smirked as the porch light turned on but soon disappeared behind him.

Eventually, he got to the hide-out, but Ryan was nowhere to be found. He tugged on a cord to turn on the light bulb overhead. He spotted a good-sized bottle of vodka- the cheap kind, but still vodka. Surrounding it was a few cans of soda.

Blaine noticed a note sitting under the vodka.

Blaine,

I mooched this stuff off of my dad, but I had to promise him that I'd help

him finish some stuff up. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Just have a few drinks

while you wait, but don't get too drunk without me.

Have fun!

Ryan

Blaine smiled and grabbed a can of Coke along with the vodka. He chugged half of the soda, then pour vodka straight into the can.

Then, he chugged that. It didn't taste good, but Blaine loved the feeling of the burning sensation crawling down his throat.

Too much vodka and forty-five minutes later, Blaine was drunk off his butt. He had never held liquor well but his head was already spinning in the best way possible.

Merely an hour after that, he had a gargantuan headache. He knew it wouldn't be long before he started throwing up. Another hour tops.

Blaine wiped his forehead, clearing it from sweat. Drinking that much alcohol had been a stupid idea. It caused Blaine to go straight to the after-effects. He hadn't had more than forty-five minutes of an alcohol high.

But that was enough for him to enjoy. He had needed a break from the world.

He felt his stomach jolt, and then flip terribly, but he ignored it. He felt back onto the ratty, small couch. He began to hum a familiar tune to himself. Some Katy Perry song that Ryan's sister always blasted from her iPod.

Surprisingly enough, he was able to fall asleep.

Soon enough, he awoke with a twisting feeling in his gut. He hurried out of the small shed and hurried towards the stairs, ignoring the biting cold air around him. He couldn't make it, though, so he upchucked the remaining alcohol onto the loose gravel of the building's roof.

It went on for a while before he felt a comforting, warm hand on his back, rubbing circles in the tight muscle.

Blaine felt like he could finally move, so he wiped his mouth and turned towards Ryan.

Well, he had thought it was Ryan.

But it wasn't.

It was that boy from the gas station; his hallucination.

"What the hell? Why am I hallucinating?" Blaine asked himself. That wasn't an alcohol effect, right?

"Hallucinating? Gosh, no. I'm real. 100% real," the boy assured with a familiar voice.

"H-hey, you're the voice I heard when I was about to snatch that lady's purse."

The boy- er, the hallucination nodded. "Yes, that was me."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "You must be a weird version of my conscience then."

The boy- hallucination- thing laughed. "No, Blaine. I'm an angel."

Blaine sneered as the gagging feeling came back. "Prove it," he challenged before turning and nearly vomiting again.

But it never came.

He could feel the warm grip of a hand on his lower back.

Blaine now realized something; the pounding headache was gone, the twist in his gut was non-existent, and he was stone-cold sober.

"H-how's that possible?"

The thing smiled gently. "I'm an angel. I have certain healing gifts. All I did was lift your drunkenness. Nothing too expansive."

Blaine turned, facing the thing. He slowly crawled away, backing away from it.

"What do you want from me?" Blaine asked in fear. He curled his knees to his chest and wrapped them in his arms.

Kurt stepped forward and stuck his hand out in comfort, as if Blaine was an abused puppy and Kurt was trying to save him, trying to let him trust him.

Kurt took another step; Blaine moved further backwards. "Don't come closer."

"I'm not trying to hurt you, Blaine," Kurt urged, stepping towards the scared boy.

"How do you know my name? And what do you want from me?" He asked again.

Kurt offered a small smile. "My Father graced me with many gifts. He has allowed me an extraordinary gift of knowing the names of everyone in the world. Even the ones that have gone and the ones who have yet to come. I know their past, present, and future. And Blaine? You're past wasn't too pretty, but in the path you're taking now, your future won't be, either."

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Are you crazy?"

Kurt shook his head. "Of course not. My Father has sent me to warn you from your future. You're life isn't going to play out well, Blaine. You're making such terrible choices right now, and you will have to face the consequences later on in life. Very soon, perhaps."

Blaine moved further back, but gravely found his back hitting the wall on the edge of the rooftop.

Kurt took this as a chance to explain. He swooped forward and grabbed Blaine's face between his soft hands, forcing Blaine to look him in the eyes.

"Blaine, listen. God cares for you. He sent me to save you. I want to save you. Let me show you where this adventure you call 'life' will take you if you continue how you are."

Blaine gave him a fearful, but blank look. He was waiting.

"You have to trust me, Blaine. I know it's a difficult request, but I just need a tiny thread of trust or belief."

Blaine, still silent, slowly nodded his face, moving Kurt's pale hands along with it.

Kurt smiled. "Thank you."

He curled his fingers, putting pressure on Blaine's temples.

At first, all he felt was the physical part of Blaine. His heartbeat, for one, could be felt. The gentle pulsating of the precious blood that held life and the whoosh of air into and out of the boy's body was easily distinguished.

Then, the emotional part of Blaine came crashing down on Kurt like a wave; the sadness, the hopelessness, the pent-up anger, an especially the fear.

Kurt knew what had caused this. Blaine thrived off acceptance. When he had come out to his parents, he hadn't gotten the support he had expected. His dad had gone from 'I'll love you no matter what, you're my son' to 'I don't want anything to do with you. You're disgusting and a let-down.'

Kurt could feel the battle between pride and shame raging within Blaine. And it all stemmed from something as simple as his sexuality.

Kurt couldn't help but feel empathetic. He- somehow- felt like he had a connection to Blaine. What is was, he wasn't sure.

Kurt broke through one wall after the other in Blaine's mind. He knew that Blaine was curious and willing, though.

And that's when the images flooded into Kurt's mind. The strange man yelling at a younger Blaine, offering only hate and the discriminating teenagers. The only bright spot was a boy- Kurt knew his name was Ryan. He was an amazing friend to Blaine. Accepting, caring, and friendly, but not romantic at all. That was what Blaine thrived for.

Then the shuffle of pictures went to the present; seeing the angel-boy for the first time, seeing him again, to now. There were also the many images in between. Then they moved to the future. Ryan was gone, his absence made a huge impact on Blaine's life, apparently. Blaine- in an act of rebellion- joins a popular gang. The crimes they commit are much worse than stealing and purse-snatching. Their average day consists of hurting innocent people and sometimes things more serious.

But Blaine does what they tell him to, because the acceptance they show him afterwards is exhilarating. The acceptance and interest they show to him after he commits the crime make him happy.

But one day, they send him to threaten one of their ex-members because he apparently blackmailed their leader's sister. He surprises Blaine by cornering him and pulling out a beautifully shining blade.

Then, the sights running through Kurt and Blaine's minds become gory. The ex-member is probably psychotic. He tortures Blaine, adding sharp pokes with the knife throughout the whole thing. Before he leaves, he adds one more thrust of a knife.

And that's how Blaine is murdered, left in the alley, bleeding to death at the age of 25.

Kurt inhales sharply, taking his hands away from Blaine's face, thoroughly ending the visions that race between both of the boys' minds.

Kurt bites his lip and looks towards Blaine.

He definitely is not expecting what he sees.

Blaine is curled into a ball again, silently letting tears stream down his face.

Kurt moves to comfort him, but he hears footsteps coming up to the rooftop.

"Blaine? What's wrong?"

It's Ryan. Kurt steps back, now invisible to the human eye. He watches as Ryan comforts Blaine. He wipes away the tears and cradles Blaine, murmuring comforting words into his ear.

Kurt smiles at Ryan. He knew that this boy was very special. He knew that in a year- give or take- he'd have a breakthrough, realizing how important academics really were. He'd try harder, dropping the cigarettes and alcohol for the most part.

He'd retake his sophomore year, but by his junior year, he'd be caught up, if not ahead.

He was very special indeed.

And right now, the better person inside of him was being a great friend.

Kurt stepped back when Ryan lifted Blaine up and carried him into the hide-out.

He let them pass by and he held back the odd urge to appear to Ryan and explain. He couldn't though, and he knew so.

It would ruin everything.

So he just stood and watched as Ryan took care of Blaine.

The boy he was supposed to save.


(A/N)- Well, whadaya think? Review, please! :] Constructive criticism is highly appreciated.