Will I Wake Tomorrow

Title: Will I Wake Tomorrow

Author: quickquotesquills (me...who else would it be?)

Word Count: ~1,400

Rating: PG for mentions of suicide.

Warnings: As stated above, mentions of suicide, but there's nothing graphic. Just angst.

Disclaimer: If I owned Glee, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction. Also, the title is from the song 'Will I' from RENT.

A/N: I know, I know, I should be writing chapter 5 of A Simple Punishment. But my parents have my iPod and they won't give it to me, and from now on I'm only allowed to be on the computer from 8-9 PM. Also I have to take math again over the summer (even though I passed and got a decent mark). But I promise I'm working on it. So to tide you over while you wait (and because I had to write this), here's a mini-fic. Enjoy!

Blaine Anderson was a very polite, well-mannered young man. He passed all of his classes with flying colours, joined the Warblers, and already had several college scholarships set up for him. He always called his teachers 'sir' or 'ma'am', and they always looked favourably upon him.

He got along quite well with his parents at home. As long as he didn't step out of line, or do anything too 'drastic', his parents would always welcome him home. But that was never an issue. Because Blaine, in their eyes, was perfect.

On his sixteenth birthday, Blaine's grandfather gave him a pocketwatch. He accepted it with a small "Thank you, Sir."

And after that, Blaine was never to be seen without his watch. He was always on time, often early. He knew exactly when everything in his life would happen, and he was able to change around events as needed to better suit his timetable.

He never accepted offers from other students to socialize after school. That would interfere with the way his life worked. And his parents might not have approved. Blaine couldn't do anything that might upset them.

Because Blaine Anderson was perfect.

You would never hear anyone say that Blaine Anderson would not give you the time of day. Because in most cases, that is all he would do. Whenever anyone needed the time, he would always be there to politely inform them that it was three o'clock, or half past eleven.

And because Blaine wouldn't interact with people much (not that he was avoiding them, because that would be rude), people stopped trying to reach out to him. Nick would no longer ask him if he wanted to join in on movie night with the Warblers. And Jeff wouldn't offer to bring him along to the park with some of his friends.

It wasn't as if Blaine minded, though. He had never expressed interest in doing any of those things. And it would take away from other things in his schedule, like spending time with his family. And he would never want to do anything that could hurt his family.

Because Blaine Anderson was perfect.

At some point, Blaine's aunt and uncle came over for dinner with the family. Nothing much happened for a while that night. As usual, dinner began at seven-thirty sharp. Blaine sat in the chair to the right of the head of the table, as always. His aunt and uncle were cracking jokes near the end of the table, and Blaine smiled politely at their banter. And for a little while that night, everything was fine.

But then it wasn't.

Blaine's aunt, after an hour of letting Blaine fade into the background, turned her attention to him. "Blaine. I haven't seen you with any girls lately."

Blaine's uncle joined in with a snort. "Right. If you don't get yourself a girlfriend, son, people are going to start thinking you're a-" he made a face. "Homosexual."

Blaine wasn't quite sure what possessed him to do it. Maybe he had simply had enough. Either way, the expression on Blaine's face was blank as he quietly said, "I am."

A hushed silence fell over the table, almost comical in nature. Blaine would have laughed if it wouldn't have seemed rude.

Blaine's father had a stony expression on his face. "Go to your room. We'll talk about this later."

As Blaine climbed the stairs to his room, he allowed himself a small smile. Because it was the first time in years that he had felt something.

And it was perfect.

Blaine's father had chewed him out that night. And of course, Blaine had promised to remove the notion from his head. Having that feeling-he didn't know what it was- felt good. But it wasn't worth it to hurt his family.

So he continued on as though nothing had happened. He went to class and continued to excel. He constantly answered every question right and did all of his assignments.

Until there was one question he couldn't answer.

In English class, his teacher had asked the class to think about the different friends they had made. They were expected to write something very sappy about the community and their friends for a piece in the Dalton yearbook.

But as Blaine thought about it, he realized he couldn't complete the assignment. Because really, he didn't have any friends. There were Nick and Jeff, but they were more like acquaintances. He had drifted apart from Wes and David over the years, and distanced himself from the rest of the Warblers.

Blaine Anderson realized that he was surviving instead of living.

And for the first time in his life, Blaine Anderson was not perfect.

The notion had been in Blaine's mind for a while now; ever since he had received his English assignment back with a 70% and a 'Good effort, Blaine' scrawled across it. He had been hoarding his sleeping medication under his drawer, and he had decided that today was the day.

Blaine Anderson was going to commit suicide.

The day was planned out carefully. He would go to breakfast (at 9:00 AM) and then sing in the impromptu performance that the Warblers were planning in the senior commons. He figured that he at least owed the Warblers this one last song. But after that, he would go up to his room, seal off the letter he had written announcing his abrupt departure, and do what needed to be done at exactly 10:25 AM.

As always, he had his pocketwatch with him to keep him on track in case he forgot his schedule. It was an unlikely scenario, but anything could happen.

So right on time, Blaine arrived in the breakfast hall, and sat down where he always sat. He smiled at all of their jokes, and laughed on cue. Not that any of it was genuine.

And when breakfast was over, Blaine rushed down the stairs to get to the commons, checking his pocketwatch. It was 9:55 already and he couldn't be late for this performance.

But as he ran down the spiral staircase, he heard a voice behind him.

"Excuse me?"

And Blaine Anderson turned around to find himself looking at an angel.

"Um, hi. Can I ask you a question? I'm new here."

Something possessed Blaine in that moment. No longer was he answering a question to be polite. He answered the question because although he didn't know why, he wanted to get to know this boy. "My name's Blaine." he said, extending his hand. Which he didn't have to do. But he did do it.

"Kurt." said the boy, shaking his hand. And once again, Blaine felt something inside him. "What's going on here?"

Inexplicably, Blaine found himselfsmiling genuinely. "The Warblers." He grinned. "Every now and then they throw and impromptu performance in the senior commons. It tends to shut the school down for a while." he said, and-did he just wink?

The rest of the conversation flew by effortlessly, and somehow, Blaine found himself grabbing Kurt's hand and running down the hallway with him.

And as Blaine sang with the Warblers for what was supposed to be the final time, he felt happy. More than happy-he felt fantastic. And he threw himself into the performance.

Blaine Anderson didn't kill himself that day. Or the next day, or the next.

And at the end of the week, he found himself shredding up the note he had written and breaking the pocketwatch under his foot.

Because he had found what he hadn't realized he was missing-a will to live.

Years later, Blaine Anderson-Hummel would tell his angel exactly how much he had helped him. And he did so without fear of rejection or disappointment from anyone. And when his angel simply took Blaine into his arms after hearing the story, Blaine knew that he had been right in what he chose.

Because Blaine Anderson-Hummel may not have been perfect, but what he had was.

A/N: So, what did you think? Leave me a review, even if you hated it. :)