Author's note: Differing values of angst and fluff (And crack I suppose) for each section.
I don't own Glee, Supernatural, Harry Potter.
All of this will either become stories or one-shots someday. Part V will be developed into a Klaine story very soon.
Which one did you guys like the best and which one do you think I should make into a full story?
-line break-
The Five Lives Blaine Anderson Never Lived. (or the snippets of stories I'll never finish)
I.
Blaine does not understand the strange language they are speaking. The words aren't as crisp as his beloved English, they aren't short and standoffish. This language curls around him gently, full of soft sounds and pretty vowels. For a second he is reminded of spices and of the earth, of fresh rain and rolling cliffs that never seem to fade.
"Where are they from again?" He asks referring to the strange slaves. Lima was the center for slave trade in the Western region and he's never seen a slave before coming here. Westerville, his city doesn't have slaves though his friend Sam had warned him ahead of time as to be prepared.
Sam shrugged. "No clue. The closest we can understand is 'McKinley' though there's no way that's what they are actually saying."
"Oh." Blaine considered this and then decided that it was better not to think of the slaves at all. It would only make him feel terrible especially when there was nothing he could do.
They had come to the market to run errands for Sam's master. Originally Sam's parents had been considered among the richest of Westerville and somehow they'd lost it all, with the Evan's family moving away to the less costly Lima. Sam and his two younger siblings had all gotten jobs; Sam worked for the Karofsky family usually running whatever errands needed to be done. Eventually he'd going into training for a Knight which had better pay but more risks. Stevie worked at a blacksmith's but currently didn't make anything and just helped out while learning the trade. And lastly Stephanie apprenticed at a Taylor's, her skills increasing by the day.
Blaine was just visiting as Dalton Academy was on Fall Break and the option of staying with his family was in fact not an option at all. He could have stayed with Wes or David but he always stayed with them and simply put he was tired of being their burden. With Sam things were more equal.
The slaves on the platform were still chattering and he wondered if they even realized what was about to happen. Blaine looked at them and tried to ignore his guilt, he had done nothing wrong after all.
There were six slaves on the platform; three men and three women. The first two women were both blonde though one was more slender than the other with a delicate build while the other one was taller, not quite as fragile looking. The last woman had a darker skin tone and her eyes were brown while her hair was dark. She seemed to be cursing in her strange tongue, violently hitting the auctioneer. The first man had a different skin tone also though his was not as dark, his hair and eyes were both dark and he had a nervous smile. The second man wasn't as skinny though taller, with brown hair and blue eyes. His legs kept shaking and Blaine could see bandages covering the top half of them, some of them were blood-stained.
The last man was the one that made Blaine's mind stop and for his surroundings to all but cease existing. This man, perhaps boy judging by how young he looked, had brown hair also and the strange eyes he had ever seen. Were they blue or green? The color whatever it was, was bright, and they were narrowed in anger. His pale hands were balled into fists, digging into his skin. Unlike the other men, who seemed much more human, he had unusual markings covering his skin, the same blue-green color of his eyes. Some of the markings rose up, almost looking like scales. His ears were slightly pointed and Blaine felt his heart stop completely when the man's gaze collided with his.
His gaze is pure unadulterated hate and Blaine almost feels himself flinch back, hurt racing across his features but he controls it. The years before Dalton have taught him how to block such reactions.
A sudden tugging on his sleeve brings him out of his thoughts and he looks over at Sam in confusion. "Blaine, we still have a few more errands to do."
Right. Sam can't afford to get in trouble and who knows how much time he's waited here, staring at some slave boy who looks like he wants to kill him. Blaine glances back at the man, but he is looking elsewhere now, his chin upright and proud.
Blaine holds back a sigh. "Let's go Sam."
Sam doesn't question why Blaine is suddenly in a hurry to leave and instead leads his friend to the next store.
Blaine meets the man again, a few days later. This meeting is just as pleasant-unpleasant as the first. He is heading downstairs, to the far dungeon-like basement. It is a prison technically and usually they send a maid down to get the dishes but the maid whose turn it is, Sunshine, is afraid of the dark and please please could Blaine go get it for her? She promised he'd get an extra slice of Salsa Bread tonight.
He is heading down and the man is heading up and they collide falling into each other, all elbows and knees, stray limbs flailing around sporadically. "Sorry." Blaine apologizes frantically -Watch where you're moving freak. You run into me again and I'll tear your fucking head off. Got it?- but the man jerks away from him.
"Sorry." Blaine repeats somewhat helplessly and the man scoffs.
When he looks up Blaine is nearly surprised to see the slave from the market. Nearly because everyone knows that Lord Karofsky's son likes the more feminine ones and even if it's evident that this man is indeed all man he is still very pretty. Angry but beautiful.
"Don't act like that." The man bits out, and this time Blaine is surprised. He never considered the fact that he might know English. His words have a bit of an accent to them though that's not surprising. What is surprising, very surprising, is the way they sound. Almost like he's half-singing them, voice high and melodic.
And then he is confused, face twisted as he tries to figure out what the man is going on about. "Act like what?"
The man frowns but says nothing else, instead nearly racing upstairs. He is gone before Blaine can even blink.
"What's the matter with you?" Blaine lifts his head from his pillow, staring at his blond-haired friend in confusion.
It is late at night and the house is nearly completely asleep. They sleep in the servant's commons, with three other men. Blaine is a 'guest' so he shares with Sam instead of sleeping on the cold stone floor.
"What do you mean?" He is half asleep, drowsy from working for hours on end and from yet another encounter with the strange hypnotizing man who still seems to hate him.
Sam laughs, and one of the other men shushes him, head buried under a pillow. The other two men are wide awake, one is penning a letter and the other is smoking his third cigarette, the room would have smelled of smoke if not from the cool outside air.
"Something is wrong Blaine, don't even lie. So what is it?"
Blaine wishes he could talk to Sam in private but they are nearly always surrounded by other people and it doesn't really matter that much. If the other men hate him, he'll just be leaving in less than a week anyway. "It's the servant, the new slave."
The man penning the letter, Riley looks up eyes alarmed. "Has he been botherin' ya?" He's from somewhere across the ocean, maybe Ireland though Blaine isn't sure.
"Bother how?" Blaine says confused because the man he's thinking of doesn't seem like the type to 'bother' anyone, even with all his anger he looks too tired, as if he'd ever care about anything as insignificant as Blaine. Besides, all slaves and some of the more untrustworthy servants have collars on them with Binding spells. It would take a wizard and a blacksmith to break it.
The man smoking the cigarette, Garrett rolls his eyes. "Shut up Riley before you say somethin' more stupid than usual. Go back to writing to your woman."
Riley scowls at him but does go back to his letter.
Sam laughs again, shaking his head. "The really skinny and prissy one? What's wrong with him?"
"He's not prissy." Blaine defends almost immediately. "He's just…aloof. And how did you know?"
"Because you two have been glaring or conversely staring at each other for the past three days?" Sam leans in next to Blaine's ear, so that only he will hear. He's smirking when he says, "Besides he's exactly your type, isn't he? All long limbs and height, pretty too."
Blaine elbows him sharply. "Shut up Sam." he hisses out, his face bright red and he is almost positive Garrett is stifling a laugh. Damn it.
"I'd stay away from tha' boy Blaine." Riley says cautiously, folding up his letter and stuffing it in his jacket pocket. He's got a wife and a few kids wherever his home is and Blaine used to wonder why he was here but he's too afraid to ask.
Blaine and Sam look at him curiously while Garrett snorts, shaking his head, shaggy bangs falling in front of his eyes. Riley continues, shooting the man a dirty glare. "He's a monster. ye understand me? No reason he'd be here if he wasn'."
"Monster?" It's hard to compare what he knows of the man with being a monster. Even with his angry glares and hate-filled silences, hate-filled words, he just can't be a monster.
"Daemon." Riley agrees, face paling slightly. "We had Daemons back home, and that boy is a Daemon or somethin' just as bad. And if you don't be careful boy then he's going to curse ya and still yer soul."
"Or." Garrett says, drawling out his words the way he does with his smoke. "He's just a boy, a poor slave boy probably taken from his family, and you're just a loon. Which one seems more likely?"
Riley flushes and glares at him, "Do ye always have to say something'? Or is there a defec' that preven's yer mouth from never closing'?"
Garrett smiles cheerfully at him as he shuffles over to bed. Sam shrugs at Blaine and pulls the blanket away from him suddenly. "Don't hog the sheets Blaine, it's getting colder lately." he mutters, taking nearly all of it.
Blaine rolls his eyes and settles down to sleep. Quickly falling into a daze until he is awakened by the feeling of someone watching him. Alarmed he jerks awake, looking around with wild eyes.
Garrett holds up his hands placating. "Calm down boy. It's just me."
Blaine blinks at him and shakes his head slightly to rid himself of his remaining drowsiness. "What do you want?"
"You know I think Riley's round the bin. He' s a nice fellow if a bit superstitious." Garrett said, leaning against the wall for support. He looked wide awake and was dressed in his day clothes already. Blaine wondered what time it was.
"Yeah." Blaine said cautiously.
"Well just because he's crazy doesn't mean he's not right."
"You really think that slave is a daemon?" He's almost disappointed. Garrett seemed a bit more sensible then that and if they keep up this demon talk Blaine's almost positive he's going to get angry rather quickly.
"No, nothing like that." Garrett grinned. "my family left all of that magic crap, when we left for this godforsaken land." Garrett's from somewhere in the east, across the sea and can't stand the cold. Sam said he complains nearly every time it even rained a little.
Blaine doesn't point out that some of 'that magic crap' is quite real, binding spells and wizards for instance. "Okay? What's this got to do with that boy?"
"His name's Kurt." Garrett grumbles absently. "Least that's what Rosie said or rather called 'im. Damn near only thing all the cooks were talkin' about. Made it hard to sneak a snack while they're gabbing about the poor thing. What is he a baby duck?"
Kurt. His name is Kurt Blaine thinks fuzzily, his head suddenly warm and heady. It fits him somehow. Kurt with the strange blue-green eyes and the fierce glare.
"What does this have to do with Kurt?" he repeats firmly. and what does this possibly have to do with me?
Garrett sighs. "I have a bad feelin', and it ain't due to anything supernatural. That boy's not meant for you Blaine and you should leave him alone before either of you get hurt."
Blaine gets out of bed, careful not to move Sam whose still snoring without a care. He stands directly in front of Garrett, until he can look in the taller man's eyes. "He doesn't belong to anyone." Blaine says determined, fiercely even as his mind pictures the binding collar. He hasn't seen Kurt wearing one but that doesn't mean he doesn't have one, it could be a bracelet or an anklet. The particularly vicious masters sometimes inscribe tattoos, permanent spells carved into skin with ink and blood.
"But mostly he doesn't belong for you. He's Karofsky's and they can do whatever they want to him." Garrett says calmly and Blaine imagines that he might actually want to punch the older man.
"What are you implying?" He says with narrowed eyes.
He says nothing for a moment and then sighs again. "Just be careful Blaine, you're a good kid I'd rather not see you get killed by Karofsky."
Blaine shakes his head. This conversation is dangerous, not only because Garrett seems to know of his attraction to men. If Karofsky found out… "I don't know what you're talking about." he says finally and then crawls back into bed, facing the wall and ignoring the weight of the silence.
He hears something that might be another sigh and then Garrett blows out the remaining candle and the room is almost covered in pitch black darkness, save for the light from either the fading moon or the rising sun.
Blaine closes his eyes and pretends that he does not dream of a boy named Kurt. Because even in his dreams it is still wrong, still illegal and horrible- for Kurt to be his.
II.
" Come on Blaine!" Sophie calls out to him, racing farther up the hill. Five year old Blaine pants, hands resting on his knees as he tries to regain his breath. By the time he looks back up his sister is gone. He looks behind him and sees their vacation house in the distance.
Blaine looks indecisively between the two and then trudges forward, if he doesn't find Sophie she will eventually find him.
They're supposed to go to the clearing a bit past the hill to watch the stars. He's not sure what, but something special is supposed to happen. Auntie Kate had said it was like a star festival sweetie, trust me you'll just love it.
But how is he supposed to love it if he doesn't know how to get there?
Blaine sniffled, upset at the prospect of missing out on all the stars (of course Stupid Sophie wanted to keep those away from him) Sophie sure better find him soon or he's going to tell mommy. Blinking to clear his eyes, he saw a flash of light from just above him.
He gasped, eyes wide. shooting stars! Oh this is so cool, I can't wait to tell Wes and Davey about it when we go back home.
But how was he supposed to get home if he couldn't even get to the clearing? Blaine blinked again finding it was harder to not cry. Boys weren't supposed to cry though, Daddy had said so. Daddy also said it was okay to cry if you were hurt or if something really sad or bad happened.
He sat down against a nearby tree, nearly completely covered by bushes and stray branches. He was just small enough to not get scratched and Blaine wrapped his arms around his legs, resting his head against his knees.
Blaine started to sob, not carrying that you weren't supposed to cry unless it was an emergency. It had been practically forever and Sophie hadn't found him and he was missing out on the shooting stars and it was all Sophie's fault, she knew he wasn't that fast but she ran a head anyway.
"Are you alright?" Blaine looked up to be greeted with a pair of blue bejeweled sandals. Looking up further he found a gangly little boy staring at him with a curious expression-half annoyed and half concerned.
The little boy was dressed kind of fancy like he usually had to dress like when mommy and daddy had those big parties for work. The boy's hair was chestnut brown and combed perfectly and his eyes were really weird. Like blue but it almost looked green too.
Blaine wondered how the little boy had found him. It was dark outside, and he could barely see. So how had the boy found him? Maybe he was his guardian angel? Mommy said everyone had one and that they showed up when you need them. Well Blaine was lost and he thought right now was a good time for a guardian angel.
"Are you an angel?" Blaine blurted out, face bright red when he realized what he had said.
The little boy frowned, staring at him with a raised eyebrow. "No." he paused considering. "My name is Kurt Elizabeth Hummel."
"Oh." Blaine frowned, wondering what he was supposed to do now. How was he supposed to get home if he didn't have an angel after all.
He looked up again and found Kurt staring at him, clearly annoyed now, with his hands on his hips. "You're supposed to tell me your name now."
Blaine flushed. Mommy would ground me if she found out I forgot my manners again. "I'm Blaine Anderson." he said smiling his charming smile that was usually reserved for teachers and adults, it was different though because Kurt was an angel. not-angel.
Kurt blushed, cheeks becoming pink. "Nice to meet you Blaine." He said just as politely back and for some reason Blaine thought he looked kind of adorable, almost like Wes' new kitty.
"Do you know how to get to West Grove street?"
Kurt bit his lip and shook his head. "No, but my daddy and mommy do. Are you lost?"
He nodded. "Yes, we're staying over there, at the white house. It has black shutters? Or maybe grey? And I don't know how to get there." Blaine but his lip, because it really was stupid to cry.
It didn't stop Kurt from seeing it and he grabbed Blaine's hand, trying to be nice and helpful- his mommy always held his hand or hugged him when he was upset and Blaine looked like he was about to cry.
"Do you want a hug?" He asked hesitantly because for some weird reason some boys didn't like hugs. Not even a little bit or even when they were sad.
Blaine choked back a sob and nodded quietly sniffling. "Yeah." he hiccupped.
Kurt slowly hugged him and it was slightly awkward at first due to the fact that Kurt was so much bigger than Blaine but eventually they found a position that worked and Blaine rested his head on Kurt's shoulder.
He was really tired now and Kurt was really warm. Blaine decided that Kurt gave really good hugs, maybe even better than mommy.
"Blaine if you want you can come back home with me and my mommy and daddy will know what to do."
Blaine pulled back slightly but still clung to him, staring at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Really?"
Kurt smiled. "Sure, Mommy and I made cookies a little while ago, they should be cool enough to eat by now."
Blaine grinned. "Okay."
They kept holding hands the entire walk back to Kurt's house, occasionally brushing up against each other but unwilling to stop, giggling as they did.
III.
"Do you really need me?" Blaine was the youngest of his siblings and the smallest physically speaking.. He looked more like his father than either of his brothers with dark curly hair and hazel eyes though he hadn't inherited John's personality in the slightest.
"With Sam gone, we're going to have to pick up more slack." Dean said not glancing over at his youngest brother. Sam had only gone to Stanford three weeks ago and the issue was still sore between them. Even saying Sam's now was a trigger for grumbles, bad looks and an all around air of 'no.' After the first week Blaine rarely pressed the issue, the more reasonable brother was gone anyway.
"Good ol' Sam." Blaine muttered resting his head against the passenger seat window. "What is it this time anyway?"
"Case in Ohio, four students have died in the last two months at the same high school." It was only unusual but in their line of work unusual lead down into the fucking weird territory of things.
Blaine blinked. Well, that wasn't so bad. Dad gave them an easy case? "So?"
"All four had pretty weird deaths. One broke her spine doing a basic cheerleading trick, other died choking on a slushy-don't even ask me about that one because I really don't know, they can't even find one of the bodies for this one kid and the last one got run over by a car and then stuffed into a piano.
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh."
"So are you actually going to let me help this time?" Blaine asked as they started unpacking their stuff from the impala.
Calling Dean overprotective was saying that Blaine only liked singing a little bit, Dad only liked hunting the demon in his spare time and that Sam only had a casual relationship with his laptop. Dean knew he was just overprotective; with both Sam and himself to take care of no one could blame him. But sometimes enough was a enough, sometimes he understood exactly what Sam felt and sometimes he couldn't understand his brother at all.
"I let you help." Dean protested. "You help all the time."
Blaine scoffed. "You let me help stitch you up, or help research, you and Sam barely let me actually hunt at all." It was irritating not to mention embarrassing, he could count on one hand how many times he'd done a solo hunt while Sam had at least done twice as many. He realized he wasn't as strong or as fast but that didn't mean he wanted to be protected all the damn time.
Dean smirked, "Alright then kid, if it bothers you that much than you 'can actually help' on this one. But I still call the shots, got it?" He knew he was just letting Blaine help because Sam had just left, but if he didn't give Blaine some room to breathe then he'd have another brother wanting to leave. And he wasn't sure if he could handle that.
Blaine rolled his eyes and walked into the dingy hotel room. "Don't call me Kid." he instructed.
His brother laughed, "Sure thing Kid."
Blaine scowled at him.
"Remind me again, why I'm doing this?" Blaine said staring morosely into the mirror. His hair was gelled back and his once raggedy clothes were replaced with the clothes they used only when getting information.
He could feel Dean smirking. His brother was a riot alright. "You said you wanted to help didn't you?"
He whirled around, glaring at him. "You're sending me back to school! A regular high school filled with bratty rude little teenagers."
Dean grinned. "Horrible isn't it? And besides what's the big deal? You've gone to school before and have been fine."
Blaine was silent. "Sam's always been there." Dean was four years older and couldn't always be around. Especially during school. Sammy was his protector, no one messed with his brother, not after his growth spurt anyway. It was stupid, he was nearly seventeen and fought monsters on a daily basis. He didn't need his brother, didn't need someone who had left them so easily.
Just really fucking stupid.
Dean paused, he wasn't the one who was good with words and feelings. His younger brothers had gotten those genes, the touchy-feel trait had all but skipped him completely. "I promise this will only be for a week or two at the most. And if something happens, anything at all. Then I'll pull you out, case be damned."
Blaine smiled at him. "Thanks Dean."
He nodded and then laughed, looking uncomfortable. "Enough of this chick flick shit stuff alright?"
"Yeah. Right."
Blaine Winchester didn't know a single word of Spanish, not unless tequila and por favor no dispare a mi hermano sexista (Please don't shoot my sexist brother, said to many many Spanish girls) counted. But Blaine Anderson, the charming polite rich boy, newly transferred from Dalton Academy could.
One of these days I will kill Dean he thought dryly as his teacher, Mr. Schuester-a small curly haired man, introduced him cheerfully.
"We're very glad to have you Blaine."
Blaine smiled at him. Very rarely was he allowed to be polite and mild-mannered, something similar to his true nature. For most of his life pre-hunting Dean had taught him and Sammy manners, and other such important guide lines. Saying Please and Thank you hadn't been as important as learning to reload a rifle fast.
"Thank you." he said, using charming smile number seven-designed to be comforting and especially useful when dealing with police officers or suspicious adults in general especially when they thought you were committing a felony (which you usually were.)
"Blaine, why don't you sit next to Artie?" Mr. Schuester said, directing him toward a teen in the back with glasses and brown hair.
He nodded and shuffled off quickly growing use to the mind numbing boredom that was Spanish. He liked learning, he really did but it wasn't the same without Sam. There was no one who made it fun, made it something more than words on a page. Blaine Anderson however was a model student so he grudgingly paid attention.
"Nice drawing." he said quietly, nodding slightly to Artie's picture, it was a stick figure picture but nicer with smooth, straight lines. "Aliens?"
Artie grinned slightly, "Yeah, Mr. Schue's been going over this for a week now so it gets kind of boring."
"I can imagine how that would be boring." Blaine says frowning.
He and Artie talk for the rest of the hour, sharing doodles and stick figures and maybe he is just a little glad that Blaine Anderson is supposed to know Spanish. Unfortunately he's learned nothing at all about the case. In a school like McKinley only the popular, extroverted kids get remembered and while the victims had been popular high schoolers were shallow and vapid.
By the time second period he's irritated with the entire situation and even more so the blatant bullying going on. Do these teachers not have eyes? He's seen at least three people get slammed into lockers, four getting slushy's thrown on them and one person even had their lunch money stolen. (Was this some kind of after school special?)
But he has a case to work on and he can't lose his cool and play hero just because some kids are bullies. The worst thing to do is draw attention to himself.
The last straw happens during lunch, Artie invited him to sit with a few of his friends, though as he warned Blaine they weren't exactly the popular crowd, Blaine had smiled and assured Artie that he didn't care. They were walking towards the lunch room when Artie stopped, cursing quietly.
"What's the matter?"
Artie nodded slightly, "Kurt." he said, already wheeling forward and Blaine hurried after him when he saw a slender looking teen being slammed into a locker by a massive jock.
"What's your problem?" He said as Artie helped his friend up.
The slender brown-haired boy glanced over at him as he waved off Artie's concerns.
The athlete looking teen sneered. He was more massive than Blaine had originally thought, he was more like a refrigerator in size and height than an actual person. "You're that new kid aren't you? Here's a tip, unless you want to get your face caved in, shut up and keep out of the way."
Blaine frowned, trying to keep his temper in check. The men in his family had terrible tempers when it came down to it and unlike Dean sometimes did, he wasn't going to leap into this irrationally. "Oh? Is that what he did then or was merely breathing a good enough excuse to practically slam him into a locker."
The teen colored and his face grew more angry. "Hummel here is a fag, that's a good enough reason."
It was clear that whatever this guy's problem was, Blaine wouldn't be able to solve it though he had his suspicions about what it was. "I can see talking isn't going to resolve anything." He looked back over at Artie and Hummel, was it? "Everything okay?"
Artie nodded still glaring at the jock, and his friend looked slightly embarrassed and angry. "Come on Blaine." They were heading down the hallway when the teen grabbed onto Blaine's shoulder and pulled him back, slamming the smaller boy into the locker.
The hit when compared to countless hunts gone wrong (because something inevitably got screwed up) barely hurt and Blaine glared at him. "We aren't done talking."
Hell, it looked like he'd have to play hero afterall. Blaine's hand launched out abruptly and snagged hold of the jock's wrist, his tinier fingers tightening around it until he could feel the bones tense, he let go with a twist-but not breaking it.
He really did hate jocks and high school in general. "I think we are." Blaine said coldly, pushing away from the teen and walking back towards a silent and shocked Artie and Hummel.
Artie whistled. "Blaine, he's like twice your size and you took him down." He grinned. "Nice one."
Blaine smiled at him slightly. Usually because of his height and appearance people tended to underestimate him. But he was one of John Winchester's boys and he'd been trained to fight and win just as good as his brothers. He wouldn't have survived half as long if he couldn't.
"You shouldn't have done that." Hummel said breaking the cheerful mood. "He'll have all of the jocks going after you."
Blaine shrugged lightly. "I think I can handle it."
Hummel nodded, glancing at him curiously, his face turning slightly pink. "Well thank you anyways, I never realized how nice it would be to have someone beating up Karofsky for a change."
Artie grinned, "I can't wait to tell Puck, he'll never believe it."
Blaine laughed uncomfortable. Was it really that big of a shock that someone had stood up against him? Then again this was a reasonably small town and if standing up meant becoming an outcast than he was sure very few would risk it.
Hummel stuck out his hand, a smile on his face that made it almost light up-no Blaine, you're not doing this again. You're working on a case, stay focused. "I'm Kurt Hummel."
The entire day he had been greeting people as Hello, nice to meet you I'm Blaine Anderson. It didn't bother him pretending to be someone else, not when it was important and for a good reason but it would have felt like a lie if he'd said it to Kurt and for some reason he just couldn't lie to Kurt.
"I'm Blaine." he said simply.
He sat with Kurt and his friends, a wide group of people ranging from Rachel and Mercedes-both divas, though one with slightly more of stereotypical diva behavior, Brittany and Finn who were nice and just a bit dim-to Mike and Puck, who were football players. The one thing that they all had in common was their glee club.
"Do you sing Blaine?" He was sitting in between Kurt and Artie, and from across the table Rachel looked at him with thinly-veiled interest.
He liked singing, liked it a lot actually but he didn't have time to afford to make commitments and glee club wasn't staying under the radar, but bouncing on top of it saying come get me as loud as he could. And besides he couldn't imagine explaining that to Dean or his dad, maybe Sam but Sam wasn't here anymore.
"I'm a horrible singer actually, can't carry a tune." He said with an easy going smile. "Though I'd like to hear you guys sometime."
Kurt smiled. "We have practice after school, you could come and listen."
Artie nodded. "Yeah, Mr. Schue's cool so he probably wouldn't mind."
Blaine didn't know much about show choir, but what even he could see was that New Directions was good. Damn good if a bit stuck with favoritism. "You guys were amazing." he said smiling widely at all of them, but mostly Kurt.
Rachel nodded, "With my vocal capabilities how could we not be?"
Mercedes rolled her eyes. "I think Blaine meant all of us, Berry."
Blaine nodded, laughing. "Yeah, all of you were really really good. If you don't win that contest-"
"Regional's." Rachel interrupted.
"Regional's then I'd be really surprised."
Blaine looked around the nearly empty parking lot irritated, he'd been here nearly half an hour waiting for Dean and he'd bet all of the money he had that his brother was A) shacking up with a girl B) getting into trouble C) fighting Demons or D) all of the above.
"Blaine?" a familiar, slightly feminine voice called out and he turned around to find Kurt coming up behind him. "You're still here?"
He shrugged, an easy-going smile on his face. "My ride's a bit late."
"I can give you a ride if you want?" Kurt sounded hesitant which was strange because Kurt seemed like someone full of confidence, and with the way he shot off intelligent witty remarks with ease Blaine was sure he had no reason not to.
"Sure? If you want to, we're staying out at the bayside motel so if that's too far…" he trailed off at Kurt's slightly horrified look.
"What?" Oh god, what had he said wrong. This was why he shouldn't be alone at high school, he put his foot into his mouth far to easily and now he'd said something stupid-
"You're staying at bayside?" Kurt's tone was full of distaste and he wrinkled his nose rather adorably-focus Blaine.
Oh, it was just the admittedly crappy taste in motels. Blaine held back a sigh of relief, and nodded, "Was the cheapest we could find." his head shot up as he realized what he said and his face was turning red with embarrassment. "Can we just forget I said that?"
Kurt laughed but it wasn't unkindly and his bright smile widened. "It's not a big deal Blaine but if it matters to you then sure."
"Thanks, it's kind of a….sensitive issue for me." They weren't poor, not technically but none of them would be receiving a new x-box or a shiny bright mustang for Christmas.
Over the next few weeks even as they worked, Blaine's mind was stuck on the enigma that was Kurt Hummel. He'd never liked a boy so much-not even Jeremiah, his only actual relationship, came close. But it was a stupid, childish thing to focus on. They'd be gone in a week and he'd never even told anyone (anyone who mattered anymore) that he was gay.
It was stupid. Just really fucking stupid Blaine.
"We're getting nowhere." Dean said, shaking his head at the pile of research with disgust. "We don't know what it is and we don't know who's next."
Blaine nodded in agreement, if he looked at one more sentence he was positive he'd light the entire stack on fire. "We suck at research." He glanced over at Dean, hating to admit it. "You know who we need-"
"Don't finish that sentence if you want to not eat pizza for the fourth night in a row." Dean interrupted, still looking over at the papers.
"Right."
Dean stood up, stretching out all the kinks in his back. "I can't look at this for another second. I'm gonna go out for a bit, get some air. Want to come? Maybe some chick will fall for your adorable-helpless look."
Blaine scowled at him. he was seventeen, nearly eighteen. He wasn't adorable goddamn it! "Just pick me up a coke and a pack of skittles on your way back and we'll be good."
"I think I know what it is and I think I know who." Blaine said as soon as Dean walked back in. He looked excited, almost like a puppy though after a few weeks on this case and in high school Dean didn't exactly blame him.
"Yeah?"
"Only thing that really fits is a witch. And while I don't know who it is, I think I can guess what type of person the witch is."
Dean grinned at him. "Okay hotshot, what kind of person is Sabrina the teenage witch then?"
"All of our victims were high school students and all of them were rather popular, it stands to reason that our witch is the opposite."
His brother shook his head. "Remind me not to pick on a geek anytime soon. Rather not choke on my pie."
"With how fast you devour pie, it's only a matter of time."
Dean smirked. "Nice job Kid. All we need now is our witch and we can leave this town. Not a lot to do around here anyway."
Blaine raised an eyebrow. "I wonder if you're just saying that because you've hit on every single, hot girl in town."
His brother shrugged, "I wonder. Anyway just find out who the most unpopular kids are and then we'll take it from there?"
"Got it."
Shit. Blaine was really resisting the urge to hit his hand against the wall, from experience he knew it hurt like hell. After some subtle digging around and his own experience, he quickly realized which group was the most unpopular-Glee Club.
Which included Kurt and Artie, and everyone else.
Shit.
He'd found other unpopular students, but the glee club was tortured the most with slushies, locker shoves, and thrown into dumpsters.
Blaine made two lists; one of possible victims and one of possible witches. The football players and the cheerios went onto the victims list along with every other Jock Blaine could think of and the rest of the glee club went onto the witches list.
Unfortunately Kurt wasn't on the better-but still bad list. Despite a part of him knowing that the glee club was full of good, nice people he knew that all of them (well not Brittany) could just as easily be the witch.
In their kind of work you just couldn't tell.
"I don't know Dean. Look it might be anyone I can't figure it out." Blaine sighed, now was not a good time to contemplate throwing his cellphone. "No, I've got this. When I figure it out, I'll call you I swear."
"Who was that?" Blaine jumped, looking around with wide eyes.
Kurt laughed lightly, "I'm sorry for scaring you and for being so curious." Glee Club would start in an hour, as football practice wasn't over till then. Currently only Kurt and Blaine were there, though Blaine hadn't joined glee club and still shyly refused to sing.
Blaine relaxed slightly. "It's fine I was only talking to my brother."
"You have a brother?" Kurt said surprised. Blaine rarely spoke about himself, preferring to talk about other subjects. Kurt barely knew anything about him at all, though he had a feeling there was more to Blaine Anderson than what was on the surface.
Blaine nodded and then hesitated, " I sort of have two." he whispered. Sam was still an off limits subject and even when not around Dean or Dad it was hard to break the habit of not mentioning him at all.
Kurt raised his eyebrows. "Sort of?" he repeated dryly.
Blaine flushed. "It's complicated." or rather his family made it complicated.
"You could tell me about." Kurt suggested and then looked at him with wide eyes and red cheeks. "that's if you want to." he said hastily.
He smiled, why the hell did Kurt have to be so adorable? "It's fine, it might be cathartic to talk to someone about it."
Kurt gave him a reassuring smile and Blaine started speaking. "I have two brothers, both of them are older than me though one of them not by much. The oldest one is named Dean and he's…something, he's charming. He's the one I was just talking too."
Kurt laughed. "So it runs in the family then?"
Blaine tried not to shudder. "I certainly hope not. He's a little bit too girl-crazy, and pie-crazy."
Kurt had a mix between a grimace and a smile. "And your other brother?" he prompted.
Blaine's smile fell and he sighed, "That would be Sammy-Sam. He's my twin actually, but he was born first and god does he act like he's older all the time."
"Identical?" Kurt couldn't imagine two Blaines though the sight wasn't exactly unappealing.
Blaine started laughing and tried to stop when Kurt started frowning. "No, no. Despite what Hollywood would have you believe identical twins aren't very common at all, we're fraternal."
"And Sam is the sort of brother I take it?" Blaine nodded.
"Sam left us a couple months ago. He got early admission to Stanford and he just left us."
Kurt frowned. "And your family didn't approve of his choice?"
Blaine hesitated, he could trust Kurt. Maybe not with all of his secrets, especially the hunting ones but he could trust him with this. "You have to understand that my family isn't abusive or negligent though I have the feeling the way I'm telling you this might make it seem like that. We have our rough spots but I can't think of any family that doesn't."
Kurt smiled at him reassuringly and he continued. "My Dad and Sam have always fought. Sometimes I'm not sure whether it's because they're too different or just too similar. Dad wanted Sam to stay in the family business but Sammy didn't want that, didn't want to be the same 'nothing forever' and Dad told him if he left then he could never come back."
He could still hear them fighting, though with four people packed into small cars and motels, there was always someone fighting. With Sam and Dad it was more serious, more different. With them there was always the possibility of something they couldn't step back from and this time both of them had walked over that line.
Kurt grabbed his hand and Blaine smiled slightly. "What did you think about Sam leaving?" he asked quietly.
Blaine shrugged. "Truthfully I was kind of devastated. Sam's always been my best friend, ever since we were little and the only person who I'm as close to is Dean. And then he just left without even telling me before, I mean I knew he didn't want to stay in the family business but he never told me about Stanford or anything else. I don't think he told Dean either and that's probably what hurts him the most."
Blaine smiled bitterly. "Pride's is my family's vice." That and being stubborn as hell bastards. "So now it's just me and Dean, and it's weird because it's never been the two of us. Dad's off traveling for his job and I just don't know what to do, or how to fix this."
He was always the peacekeeper, at least between Sam and Dean, though occasionally he caused his own fights. It was just his nature to try and fix things and this time his family had given him nothing left to fix.
"I'm sorry Blaine, that you had to go through that and I'm sorry about Sam." Kurt said and Blaine stared at him. He looked really apologetic, for something that hadn't even been his fault and Blaine kind of wanted to laugh. Morales and Manners were loose in his family and he couldn't remember the last time he'd ever met someone this good.
Maybe Kurt was just special.
"It's alright, I'm still dealing with it and I guess I'll fine someone to live with it." That was just the Winchester way. "Thanks for listening to my sob story Kurt and thanks for not asking any of the usual stupid questions about my family, I know they seem crazy and dramatic." and they kind of are.
Kurt smiled at him and then hesitated and Blaine gave him a reassuring smile. It would be fair if he let Kurt ask a question, he had just listened to a skimmed version of his family's emotional issues for who knows how many minutes now. "What does your mother think about all this?" the slender boy asked quietly and Blaine almost froze for a moment.
Slowly he relaxed. It had been roughly seventeen years since Mary Winchester's death but Blaine didn't exactly miss her but wanted to know her per say. He wanted to know anything about the woman who was his mother. "My mom died in a fire when Sammy and I were babies. I guess she wouldn't exactly approve though."
Kurt eyes widened and he let out a tiny little gasp. "I'm very sorry Blaine, I didn't mean to bring up anything that might be sensitive for you, I was just curious-"
Blaine held up a hand to cut him off. "It's okay really. People ask about my mom all the time and usually with a lot less tact. It's really fine, Kurt."
"My mom died when I was eight." Kurt admitted quietly and Blaine frowned. Crap, here he was being so blasé about Mary's death while Kurt must have really known his mother, had obviously mourned her and Blaine just kept making mistakes, didn't he? At least concerning Kurt.
"I'm sorry Kurt, I'm really sorry." Blaine said, practically stumbling as he rushed out the words. "I just, I love my mom, I really do. It's just I don't remember anything about her. Nearly all of our pictures and videos were lost in the fire and we don't have any close family members. I just I probably shouldn't have been so nonchalant about her death."
Kurt smiled at him and squeezed his hand lightly. "It's fine Blaine."
Kurt stood up and pulled Blaine to his feet. "I have an idea, a rather brilliant one if I wasn't being modest."
Blaine laughed, "What's this oh so brilliant idea?"
"Let's skip glee practice, or rather I'll skip glee practice and we can go to my house and just relax."
"Are you sure?" He didn't want to get Kurt in trouble and by not watching the glee club he might get in trouble with Dean. But the option was rather appealing; he was tired from talking about Sam, and dad, and, mom and spending the day with Kurt was always fun.
None of it of course had to do with the growing crush he had on Kurt, absolutely none of it at all. Because Kurt might be a witch and even if he wasn't Blaine was still a hunter, and unlike Sam he wouldn't-couldn't give up his family and his life. Not when it would so obviously break everyone else. Sometimes his twin was subconsciously unaware of how his actions hurt people or maybe Sammy had just given up caring about everyone else and only gave a damn about himself.
Sometimes it sucked being a hunter.
Kurt smiled at him and started walking towards his car, Blaine followed still holding his hand.
And sometimes, it wasn't so bad.
He bet Sammy-brilliant I'm going to Stanford and that's it-Sam wouldn't even know how this would turn out.
He'd just have to wait and see.
Part IV.
"They look so nervous." Ron said, laughing and Hermione shushed him with a frown.
"We were like that as first years Ronald." Hermione reminded though a small smile appeared on her face. "Though they do like a bit…smaller and certainly paler.?"
Thirteen year old Blaine Potter scanned over the first years with as much interest as the next person. You only really cared about who went in your house and not many of the first years looked like Gryffindors with their pale faces and wide frightened-nervous eyes, though he knew that courage wasn't always evident at first glance.
Just look at Neville.
"What do you think Blaine?" Ron asked and his two best friends turned to look at him expectantly.
They'd been friends since first year, Ron and Blaine since the train and Hermione had been added to their group when a troll had nearly killed her. They were a strange bunch but their bonds were strong and Blaine considered them the closest thing he had to family.
The Dursley's didn't count, they didn't even like him or magic.
Blaine's parents, Lily and James Potter had been killed when he was only a baby by the Dark Lord Voldemort and ever since then he'd lived with his mother's sister and her family. For years he hadn't even know about magic and had been starting to give up hope of a better life when his Hogwarts letter (and Hagrid) had crashed into his life with a slam of a door. And so had Blaine's destiny or at least his truth, as the boy-who-lived, the only person who had survived the killing curse though neither Blaine or anyone else had an idea how.
"I think they'll be fine, they're probably just scared by the dementors." He said holding back a shudder.
It was their third year at Hogwarts and it was already off to a good start with the escaped convict Sirius Black and the addition of the dementors. They were supposed to be protection from Black though Blaine hated them and the effect they had on him.
"See any potential Gryffindors?" Seamus, one of their dorm mates asked.
Blaine took another look around and frowned. Near the back of the first years were two boys. One was much larger with dark hair and was shoving a smaller, skinnier first year. With the mix of his size and weight while less than his cousin's, along with his attitude quickly reminded Blaine of Dudley. The other, smaller boy was slightly short but almost unnaturally skinny with pale skin and sharp eyes.
Sensing someone stare at him, the smaller boy glanced around until his eyes locked with Blaine's. They were a strange shade of pale blue, almost green with bits of grey and Blaine didn't know how long he spent staring at the boy.
"Well?" Seamus said, snapping him out of his daze.
Blaine flushed slightly as Hermione looked at him with concern.
"That one, near the back. Small with light brown hair."
The boy was no longer being picked on though that might be because professor McGonagall was staring sternly at the larger boy or because of something Blaine hadn't seen.
Ron laughed in astonishment though Blaine knew it wasn't because his friend was being cruel. "Really? Him?"
Blaine nodded. He had a feeling, he just knew that that boy with the strange eyes was more than what he seemed to be. And who was he to doubt someone? For nearly all his life he'd been a nobody, loved by no one or anyone at all. and now…now he was safe at Hogwarts with his friends. It was the only home he needed.
"Yeah, him."
"Bet you a Knut, he's in Hufflepuff." Seamus said, grinning. Seamus liked betting, almost as much as he liked blowing up his spells.
"Deal." Blaine said immediately.
Hermione shook her head. "boys, really." she grumbled.
The sorting soon began and the Gryffindors turned to watch with interest. The first to be sorted was a boy named Abrams, Artie-Ravenclaw and the hat had barely touched his head. The line continued with a few interesting ones popping up; a petite girl with dark hair and eyes joined Slytherin-proudly(and loudly) proclaiming herself to be a star. Her sorting hadn't taken very long, no more than usual. A tall brown-haired boy who could have easily passed for a second or even third year with his height was sent to Hufflepuff.
And finally, finally they were at the boy with strange eyes. "Hummel, Kurt." McGonagall called and Kurt proudly, gracefully stepped up to the sorting hat without even an ounce of fear. The hat had only touched his head for a few moments, less than a minute when it proclaimed "GRYFFINDOR"
Blaine grinned at Seamus and Ron. "Told you."
Seamus handed over a Knut, scowling slightly.
Kurt sits down somewhere in the middle of the table and Blaine wants to talk to him, some part of him wants to know this strange boy. The one who's in Gryffindor but shouldn't be, doesn't look like he belongs here with icy eyes and graceful movements.
Blaine's not an idiot though, despite what Malfoy thinks of Gryffindors. He does have tact and introducing himself to a random first year is odd, it's even odder if you're the boy-who-lived.
Besides he's tired today from the issue with the dementor on the train as cool (and odd) as it was meeting Professor Lupin.
He'll meet the strange bo-Kurt. He'll meet Kurt later.
Part V
Blaine's not used to this. He's not used to skulking around for food and a place to sleep. Before he would have been called privileged-with a nice, big house, slightly lonely big warm dinners, and a family with parents who always tried to be on time but sometimes couldn't.
But that was Before and this is After.
After they found out he was gay, after they found him kissing a boy. After they fought and After they kicked him out. Just After.
It's been three and a half months of After and Blaine hates it more than anything else in the entire world. He should have called one of his friends but they didn't know he was gay, no one had known he was gay and he wasn't sure how they would act, he was afraid that he'd lose them too.
So Blaine didn't have a home and he didn't always regularly eat food. It wasn't that big of a deal. Not really. Neither was the fact that he had only a small backpack full of clothes and personal items.
Blaine's mature, responsible and calm, or at least he tries to be. But a week during After and he'd run out of all the money he'd grabbed Blaine realized that he couldn't be any of those things anymore.
If he wanted to survive and more than anything else Blaine wanted to survive, to prove that he was better than this and his parents, then sometimes he couldn't do the right thing. Sometimes Blaine would have to steal wallets or shoplift food, not a lot but just what he needed.
Blaine always took only what he needed.
Today he's in some town called Lima, it's roughly three and a half hours from Westerville and since Blaine's in a mall, he's wearing the cleanest, least ripped up or dirty clothes he has. He's even washed his face and hair in a gas station bathroom. (Tip, learning to clean and clean fast is the only way you're ever going to get clean. They start to get suspicious after ten minutes.)
The best people are teenagers or anyone who looks self-absorbed, they never notice anyone else. Blaine's spotted a few but most of them are in groups and the risk factor increases with a small but moderate group. (Tip, easier when around big groups, with so many people it's not unusual to 'accidentally' fall into anyone or brush their arm by mistake.)
Finally, after two hours of people searching Blaine spots two boys. The look like they're around his own age. One of them is tall, almost gangly so with brown hair and an almost dopey-smile. The other one has a Mohawk and a fierce glare, he has muscles that if in a different situation Blaine might like to look at.
Focus he chants as he gets up off his bench, swinging his backpack onto his shoulder. He radiates disappointment and anyone who glances at him will stay away from someone who's apparently been ditched.
" Damn it Hudson, I thought you said it came out today!" The Mohawked teen says exasperated. Blaine hides a tiny victory smile. Probably video games which usually means a bit more than he was expecting to get.
Hudson looked at his friend apologetically. "I got the date wrong."
Mohawk glares at him. "By an entire month. Fucking Christ."
If the video game doesn't come out today then that means it's likely they'll be leaving soon. Better move fast.
Blaine's close enough now that it would be easy to fall, at least it would seem plausible if anyone bothered to really look. He times it and falls into the taller but without as much muscles boy (better chance of not being beat up that way. Experience hurts.)
The taller boy swears as they fall to the floor, and Blaine uses the shock of the impact to successfully steal his wallet, fingers slipping in and out without anyone noticing. "Sorry." he says frantically as Mohawk laughs.
"You're such a fucking spazz, Finn." he howls out even as he helps his friend to his feet.
Finn scowls at him and then glances at Blaine, who's already trying to get up on his feet. The key word was 'trying.' "Are you okay, dude?"
No, not okay in the slightest. Something had clearly gone wrong. Either he'd timed it wrong which was unlikely or Finn suddenly stopping had caused him to knock into both the taller, heavier boy and the floor instead of just Finn. It might have been both. He should have landed on top, landing on top caused minimal injuries and not having a fucking building crushing his knee with all of his weight.
Fucking hell, fucking hell this hurts like a goddamn bitch. If Finn checked his pocket then Blaine was screwed. He couldn't run like this and if he couldn't run then they'd be able to catch him like that. Run? You're crazy, you can't even stand moron.
Still, now was not a time to be panicking however much he wanted to and Blaine had to stay calm or at least manage some semblance to it. "I'm really fine, it's just a bit bruised."
His paling face and slightly labored breathing was clearly proof of that despite evidence to the contrary.
Fucking hell, it hurts. It hurts. Fuck he'd probably broken something. He should have just went for the soccer mom earlier, but no he'd overheard her talking about buying her kid a birthday present and he just couldn't do it.
How am I still conscious?
Mohawk had stopped laughing by now and was frowning, scanning over Blaine's knee which looked a bit more than just bruised. "Shit, Finn I think you might have broken his knee."
He'd never broken a bone before. He couldn't have imagined it hurt this much. It felt like someone had just stabbed him with a white-hot knife.
"Can you stand?" Mohawk said crouching down near him.
Blaine hesitated. He couldn't stand, he doubted he could move. But he'd be in more trouble from just these two if he couldn't move. "No." he admitted in defeat, voice heavy.
He'd really fucking messed up.
Mohawk sighed. "Finn go get Mall security, tell him it looks like he's broken something in his knee and we might need an ambulance."
Finn looked nervous, even more nervous than Blaine felt and Mohawk paused, "Actually I'll go you just stay here with…" he turned back to Blaine. "What's your name?"
Blaine frowned. He couldn't tell him his real name. "Andie." He'd always liked Pretty in Pink anyway.
"Right, you stay with Andie and I'll be back. Don't move him or touch him at all." Mohawk instructed before disappearing.
"I'm really sorry." Finn said and Blaine could practically see the honesty pouring out of his eyes. Goddamn it, why couldn't he find a town that didn't have nice honest people?
He needed to get to a big city, he doubted this happened in big cities.
Blaine sighed. "It wasn't your fault. It was mine." It might have possibly been Finn's fault but it had been Blaine's own scheming that led him to lying on the floor with a broken knee.
The taller boy looked confused and he sighed again, grabbing Finn's wallet out from his sleeve and handing it to him. "See? My fault, really." They would have found it anyone or at least Finn would have noticed eventually and it's like staring into a particularly big sad puppy. Blaine just can't do it.
Besides he's fucked anyway.
This was why he was starving nearly every night. He just didn't have it in him to be a thief, not really. But actual jobs required having an actual address which Blaine didn't have anymore.
But Blaine had to survive. He need to get through the after to find something better.
Finn's face was blank when he looked up and Blaine closed his eyes. If the boy hit him then no one would really notice, Finn could just as easily say it had happened when he hit the floor.
"You stole my wallet?"
Blaine nodded. "Yeah." It sucked when he was caught, not just because it meant running away and another night of no food. It meant having to face people staring at him like he was lower than scum when all he was trying to do was beat this. He'd never wanted any of this.
"Why?" The pure confusion in Finn's voice made Blaine pause and open his eyes.
So I wouldn't be sleeping in a park tonight and if I did at least I'd have a new coat or blanket, so I'd have food for a night that was hot and not leftovers that someone gave me because they felt sorry for me after spending all day staring at their food. So I could buy some shampoo or toothpaste, so I could buy clothes that fit and weren't full of holes because it's near winter and it gets cold in Ohio.
So I wouldn't give up. "I don't think that's any of your business." Blaine said curtly, "But I am sorry, I really did need it and you can feel free to punch me now."
Finn frowned, eyes widening slightly. "Dude, I'm not going to punch you, that'd be like punching a puppy. But seriously stealing wallets isn't cool."
Blaine held back a small laugh even though that might take focus off the pain in his knee, holy fuck did it hurt. "I know." he said simply.
Before anything else can be said Mohawk is back with not only mall security but medical personnel, and they have a stretcher which he is slightly grateful for. "Do you have anyone we can call?" One of the guys ask.
Blaine can only shake his head, biting down on his bottom lip to keep from screaming. Moving had definitely not been a good idea.
"We're his friends, we'll go with him." Finn says and both Mohawk and Blaine stare at him in surprise.
"What the hell are you doing?" Mohawk guy hisses out and Finn glares at him as he talks to the guy.
"Your friend will be at War Memorial." The man says before they start moving and Blaine is still staring at Finn in shock because what the hell?
Despite Finn's either overwhelming stupidity or overwhelming niceness Blaine is still irrevocably fucked. Blaine has no family, no health insurance and could technically be considered a runaway. Damn it, he's going to end up foster care and what are his chances of not finding a weird family?
Fucking hell this is just his luck.
-story end-
Author's note: Most of this length is from Part III because I couldn't figure out where to end it because I didn't really want to end it.
I'm going to make Part V into a full story soon, maybe over Christmas break.
Here's some tiny detail about Part V.
-Blaine eventually ends up getting adopted by Carole which makes Finn more comfortable with gay people because "hello his brother's gay and he's not going to hate on him."
Wonder what will happen when The Hudson family meets the Hummels.
-Basically Blaine is now in season one of Glee.