Author's Note: Hey, guess what? I still don't own anything. Darn. A big thank you to Rae, who not only wrote me my first novel review, but has also helped and supported me like crazy as I write this crazy thing. Also, Rose, who is my favorite genius, and anyone else who reviewed or subscribed. I appreciate every single one!

Oh, and anonymous reviews are on now (I hadn't realized they were off), in case that matters.


Painted in flames
All peeling thunder
Be the lightning in me
That strikes relentless

Chapter three

"Rachel." The name is thick on Blaine's tongue, far too heavy for what should simply be a name. Shit. It rolls off clumsily, stumbling and uncertain, like it would for a frightened child who's just gotten in trouble. Double shit. Blaine looks at the woman with a quiet curiosity, swallowing hard before stepping aside and widening the gap in the door. "Uh, come in… Please."

He can taste the guilt as it falls from him in waves.

Rachel follows him inside, and as soon as the door shuts behind her, the words come out in a rush. "Blaine, as the man who is taking the love of my life away from me, I think you ought to know exactly what you're getting into."

Blaine opens his mouth to speak – to apologize, explain his guilt away, anything – but Rachel keeps talking before he can get a word in.

"Jesse isn't taking this very well, but I guess you probably gathered that from the way he stormed off last night. I'll have you know that you have quite the task ahead of you. Wooing him, that is." She pauses, quite possibly for no other reason other than dramatic effect. "I thought you should know that Jesse has a certain fondness for serenades and that is probably the route you ought to take."

Blaine realizes what is going on and he says, "You're here to help me?"

"I came here with many, less than helpful things to say to you, Blaine Anderson," she replies, "but I can see that you're already beating yourself up enough for the both of us."

Blaine just stares. There he is, robbing her of her soul mate (though, it wasn't quite by choice, in his defense) and there she is, giving him pointers. To be blunt, he's stunned. All of the things that Kurt told him about Rachel Berry, selflessness isn't something he mentioned. Quite the opposite, really. He doesn't know what to say; though, that's nothing new.

Rachel asks, "Have you even eaten today?"

"I couldn't…" Blaine starts, but then he stops himself.

The brunette shakes her head. "You love Jesse, don't you?"

"I…" Blaine falters.

"Don't lie to me. I've been there."

Blaine huffs. "All right, yes. I do." He feels strange, admitting such a thing, considering the fact that he only met Jesse the day previous, but for a man that knows nearly every Disney movie by heart – is that really so shocking? Perhaps that's what those movies were warning children about all along.

"Then you," Rachel says, taking Blaine's wrist and dragging him to his own kitchen, as if she owns the place herself, "need to stop wallowing, get yourself together, and do something about it."

"I don't understand," Blaine replies, watching as Rachel makes her way to his fridge and peers inside. "Shouldn't you be… I don't know, plotting my demise… or something?"

Rachel laughs. "Been there, done that."

This makes Blaine nervous and once again, he's at a loss for words.

"Would you do it for Kurt?" she asks, suddenly somber and facing him. "Better yet, would you do it for Jesse? If the roles were reversed, what would you do?"

Blaine knows damn well that Rachel is right; were things different, he'd be in Rachel's kitchen, making her a sandwich and doing his damndest to make sure that things work out for the one that he loves beyond any measure of understanding. He doesn't answer, because he knows he doesn't have to. It was a rhetorical question.

"Where are your plates?" she asks, closing the refrigerator door with her hip and looking at Blaine with the most determined eyes he's ever seen. He has to give it to Rachel Berry; she's got nerve.

So, he chuckles and reaches into one of the cabinets, pulls out a pair of plates, and follows Rachel to his own table. She takes them from his hand and busies herself with the deli meat while Blaine watches, feeling quite a mess of confusion, amusement, and gratitude. After a moment, she passes him a plate with a flourish, a smirk on her lips.

"Eat up," she demands. "You're going to need your strength because the man we've fallen in love with is a bit of a stubborn ass." She smiles a little as Blaine slowly takes the plate from her hands, as if he expects it to explode. "Trust me. I know."

Oddly enough, Blaine does (or, perhaps not oddly at all, because trust is something Blaine Anderson does far too well).

"All right," he says. "What does Jesse like? Musically, I mean."

A smile lights up Rachel's face and she says, "I think it will be easier to tell you what he doesn't appreciate." She chuckles, as if remembering something. "Music is a language and Jesse is incredibly fluent."

Blaine just grins; maybe Jesse is meant for him for a reason. Rachel gestures to the food and Blaine rolls his eyes before taking a seat at the table. Though, he can't deny the swell of gratefulness that is growing in his chest, so he looks at Rachel with a smile and says, "Thank you, Rachel."

She only raises her eyebrows and says, "Oh, just shut up and eat." But, once Blaine takes a bite with a somewhat intimidated expression, she adds a very small, "you're welcome."

Once Rachel is satisfied that Blaine has eaten enough and they've had a bit too much small talk, they get to work - pulling out every piece of sheet music Blaine has and using the internet to get their hands on songs he doesn't have so handy. They fire titles back and forth, hum through bars, analyze lyrics like English professors, and bicker like children over which fits the situation best. Rachel smacks Blaine with small stacks of sheet music when he jokingly suggests Rocket Ride, and Blaine pretends to vomit when Rachel says that something by Barbara would be absolutely perfect (because, really? Blaine couldn't sing Barbara if he tried his hardest).

Within the hour, though, Blaine and Rachel have found a song and she's practically pushing him out his own door. "You'll do great! Now let's go! No chickening out on me, Anderson."

"Hey," he says, the word a breathy chuckle. "Rachel, calm down a second. Come here." He walks away from the door and plops down on the couch, ushering her along. "Talk to me?"

She replies, "I don't see what there is to talk about," but follows him anyway, falling back on the sofa beside him. "Don't tell me you're nervous."

"No," he says right away. "Or, well… that's not what I want to talk about."

Blaine already asked her why she was being so helpful, why she even insisted on helping him choose a song in the first place – to which she quickly replied, "Well, if someone is going to be serenading the man that I love, I'm going to be sure it's perfect." Which is pretty impressive, but it doesn't really make much sense. Trying to help is one thing, but trying to rush Blaine out the door is another. And if there's one thing Blaine Anderson hates, it's unanswered questions. So, settling back into his seat, he hedges, "Rachel, why are you doing this?"

"I told you," she replies, sounding frustrated. "I just want to be sure that—"

Blaine stops her. "You want to be sure that this is done right," he says, "I know. But, you know just as well as I do that, eventually, I would have found a way to Jesse without your help. We both feel the same pull and we both know that, one way or another, everything will work itself out." This knowledge is more comforting to Blaine than he knows how to say. "Rachel, you've made it very clear that eventually isn't what you're after. I'll be the first to admit that I wish that everything would fall into place sooner rather than later but you…" He sighs. "Just be honest with me. Why are you doing this, really?"

"I already said that Jesse is having a hard time with all of this," she replies. "For so long, he thought that I was it for him, and now all of a sudden that's changed and it's really... It's confusing and painful and nothing he wants to deal with." Rachel sighs, looking down. "The sooner you show him that you can make him happier than I ever could, the sooner we all can move on."

Blaine's so taken aback by her words that he just reaches out and hugs her. At first, he expects Rachel to push him away, but instead she melds into his arms and hugs him back for dear life. It occurs to Blaine that this is just as much for her as it is for Jesse; she can't move on until he's happy. But her words hit him so hard. The sooner you show him that you can make him happier than I ever could, the sooner we can all move on.

He wonders how Kurt feels right now, if he could be thinking the same thing… but Blaine doesn't have to wonder because he knows. Of course Kurt does. And it's all so painful and confusing, just like Rachel said; Blaine realizes that he needs that hug just as much as she does and he gives her a squeeze, his face pressing against her shoulder.

"I'll do my best." And it was a promise.


When Blaine first moved to New York with Kurt, fresh out of college and ready to take on the world (whatever that entailed), he never imagined that he'd end up feeling like he does now - like he's trapped in a little box – worse than he'd felt in the small town that he came from. New York is supposed to be a place where anything is possible, where there are no dead ends, no four walls. Yet, Blaine feels so undeniably trapped now because there is no way to run; Blaine has a habit of that.

Running has always been his go-to solution to all of his terrifying problems. He ran away from public school when the bullies became too much, then sought a similar solution when he ran away to college in California where people are more accepting, and eventually moved to New York because it felt so free there. Blaine isn't the sort of guy who handles pressure well; it's probably the thing he handles the worst. To be completely honest, Kurt was always the strong one. He was the one who made Blaine feel brave. Just watching him be Kurt gave Blaine so much courage and hope… and now, he's gone and Blaine is in a corner, scared out of his mind because for the first time, he cannot run. He can't run away from Jesse. He can't run to Kurt. He can't flee the scene and find a new route to take. Blaine has no choice but to run forward – not back, not away, not anywhere but straight ahead. There is nothing more terrifying.

Since when is love so damn petrifying? Isn't it supposed to be beautiful? Love is supposed to be the stuff of fairytales, not nightmares… and yet, here Blaine is, squeezing his eyes shut and willing himself to wake up – to open his eyes and suddenly be in bed, Kurt at his side and all of this gone far away. This is not a dream come true, like it is supposed to be. This is a nightmare.

But Blaine isn't waking up because this is his life now, and there's no going back. It makes him think of a lyric he clung to during his years of teenage angst. Fate is an elegant, cold hearted whore. Blaine wonders if the Spill Canvas had a hard time with their destiny, too.

He sighs and keeps walking forward, towards the address Rachel gave him. Towards the one thing he cannot hide from.

By the time Blaine makes it to Jesse's apartment, he's seriously considering turning around and going back to his place. Run away, Blaine. Like you always do. It's not like he's a stranger to serenading, but he has a feeling that Jesse isn't really interested in anything he has to say (or, rather, sing) and the nerves are starting to grow and multiply in Blaine's stomach. Honestly, whoever invented the word "butterflies" needs a serious reality check, because these feel so much more like needles. He stands outside the door, biting down on his lower lip, not making a move whatsoever to knock on the door. Run. Just turn around. Call Kurt. Move to another country. Even magnets have their limits… Blaine thinks about bailing all together, but then he remembers his empty apartment and decides he doesn't want to be there either. Kurt is gone. He won't be okay with moving from his city…

The mark on his wrist burns, and so Blaine raps his knuckles against the door.

There is some shuffling on the other end, but no answer. Blaine takes a deep breath and calls, "Jesse, it's Blaine." He realizes that's not a very convincing argument so he adds, "Hear me out?"

"I'd rather not," is the only response he gets.

Blaine sighs and his chest feels like it's on fire. He wonders if maybe something went wrong and Jesse isn't his soul mate after all. Maybe the singing was a fluke, because Blaine knows damn well that if he were on the other end of that door, there's no way he'd be able to avoid opening it. Either that, or Jesse is a bigger stubborn ass than Rachel prepared Blaine for. He remembers Rachel's attitude and smiles a little, deciding that maybe he needs another approach.

"Jesse, look, I know you're in the middle of a sexual identity crisis right now, but I promise that it'll get a lot easier if you stop being such an ass and open this fucking door."

There's a snort and then, "Calling me an ass isn't going to get you on my good side, Anderson." Blaine isn't sure what his tone means – that mixture of annoyance and amusement – but he knows it's better than silence, so he lets it give him some hope.

"I know you're confused," Blaine hedges. "I've been there, you know, so I know it's not… easy. But, Jesse, running from this isn't going to make it go away. If you keep pushing me away and keep trying to pretend that I'm nothing to you, it's only going to get more difficult."

The silence only makes Blaine's chest feel heavier.

He tries, "Please, Jesse." Blaine feels his heart in his throat and can't believe he's doing this. This isn't how it's supposed to be. It shouldn't be this hard – not this part, anyway. Blaine always expected this to be so simple. He thought that once his Timer went off, the hard part would be dealing with the aftermath; Blaine didn't think he'd have to woo the one person that was made for him. That wasn't how it worked, was it? Shouldn't there have been an instant montage? A slow motion run into his soul mate's arms and then the hurtfulness of goodbye? It was saying goodbye to Kurt that was supposed to be the most painful… but he didn't even get to do that. Instead, he is on Jesse's doorstep, trying not to break the damn thing down. It's wrong in every which way and Blaine's not sure how much of it he can take. He leans back against the frame, his temple pressed into the wood.

"Don't shut me out," he says. "Don't shut this out. Don't act like you're alone in this because you're not. Just… give me ten minutes. Can we just... talk about this?"

And then, in the next moment of silence (though he swears he hears more shuffling), Blaine gets an idea. He fills his lungs slowly, and then finally does what he came here to do. He sings.

"Will you share your life with me for the next ten minutes? For the next ten minutes? We can handle that." It's not the song that Blaine planned, but the words roll of his tongue before he can stop them, feeling so right in the moment (that's how most of Blaine's endeavors begin). He doesn't hear anything on the other side of the door and though something inside him is demanding that he scurry off with his tail between his legs, Blaine keeps on singing.

"We could watch the waves. We could watch the sky, or just sit and wait as the time ticks by. And if we make it till then, can I ask you again for another ten?"

Somewhere in there, Blaine notices the knob turning and then, there Jesse is – watching Blaine with an unreadable expression – and there Blaine is, singing to his face for the first time.

"And if you in turn agree to the next ten minutes and the next ten minutes, 'till the morning comes. Then just holding you might compel me to ask you for more. There are so many lives I want to share with you; I will never be complete until I do."

When Blaine is finished, Jesse simply says, "Jason Robert Brown. I'm impressed," and Blaine's heart positively sours. Jesse's voice is backed with a strength that Blaine isn't used to hearing (without anger attached to it, anyway) when he ventures, "I think I can allow ten minutes."

And Blaine steps through the threshold.