A/N: I meant to have this up yesterday, but fanfiction was being incredibly cruel and wasn't allowing redrosegal to send me back the edited version, and so we finally got it to work, so enjoy~

Anyways, everything italicized is Blaine's dream just in case you can't tell. And I wanted the chapter to be longer, but I wanted to get it done too because I was going out apartment searching with my mom. Good thing I stopped there too, because now I'm sick and can't focus enough to work too much, so you would've had to wait a while for the next chapter. I usually get over sicknesses in a few days though, so I'll do my best to scrape some stuff together that can hopefully be considered a story soon :3 I already have a pretty rough idea of what's going on the next chapter anyways.

Anyways, thanks again to redrosegal - my lovely beta - and anyone who has reviewed~ I think I'ma start replying to reviews at the bottom Authors Note like lots of people do, so... ya! Enjoy! Random sick rambleness done on a half-asleep mind done~

Slamming a pillow over his head, sleep continued to evade one Blaine Anderson. It was not three in the morning, and the conversation he'd overheard his dad having continued to play in his mind. His arm had long since stopped bleeding, and the gray shirt he was wearing was now stained red with his blood. Rolling out of bed, he walked towards the door and pressed his ear against it, hearing a muffled argument coming from across the hall in his parent's room.

"-send him to Army Camp or something-"

"-not gonna take him, he's weak. Can't even handle a little-"

"-try homeschooling?"

"-need to work, and I'm not paying for some tutor to teach-"

Pulling his head back from the door, he sighed. They were fighting about him. Again. Thinking of ways that they'd be able to move back, most likely. Blaine knew it was hard on them here, and he wanted to tell them he was fine with moving back… but he wasn't. He couldn't go back to that hellhole. As bad as McKinley is, at least he has friends here. At his old school… he had no one.

But for now, he couldn't take the endless fights centered around him. He couldn't stand the feeling of being a shadow in his own home. So, picking up his clothes from the floor, he quickly threw them on and grabbed his old backpack, heading out the front door.

He didn't know where he was going, but he just kept walking. His backpack was slung over his shoulder, and his footsteps on the pavement were the only sound he could here. And yet, he felt less alone outside than he did in his house.

At home, he was just ignored. Straight out ignored. People seemed to want him to feel alone. Not to mention, his own parents talked about him behind his back. But here… there was no one judging him. No one to ignore him. No one purposefully making him feel as though he were nothing, as though he didn't matter.

The entire walk to his unknown destination, he thought about that. How even when he was alone, he felt more important, more human than he did around his family. He felt more like living than he did at home. He found more things to live for.

The entire walk, he thought about those things. The things worth living for. The things he needed to live for, the people he should live for. He smiled as one face in particular came to mind.

Kurt Hummel.

The day found Kurt taking a short walk before heading to school. Thursday was the one day of the week the group had convinced Rachel not to force Mr. Schuester into holding an after school Glee rehearsal, so he only had the class during the school day. This meant that he would be able to spend more time at the Lima Bean with Blaine – that is, if the older boy even wanted to go.

Just as he was about to pull out his iPhone to text the brown-eyed boy, he felt it vibrate. Pulling it out, he saw that it was an incoming call from Mercedes. Raising an eyebrow, he hit the answer button and held the phone up to his ear.

"Yeah Mercy? What's up?" he asked her.

"White boy! Get your butt down to school right now, you gotta see this!" Her voice sounded slightly panicked, causing Kurt to immediately turn around and head back towards his house from his walk.

"See what, Mercedes? Is everything alright?"

"Just hurry up and get here! Chorus Room, okay?" and with that, she hung up the phone, leaving a very confused Kurt to finish walking back towards his house. Lucky for him, he hadn't gone out that far, and had only left around ten minutes ago – thus only taking about five minutes for him to run. So that's what he did – he ran, the panic in Mercedes voice making him worry about what was going on.

The second he got home, he ran inside to grab his bag, locked the door, and hopped into the driver's seat of his Navigator. As he drove, he thought about what could be going on. Maybe someone had trashed the glee club room again, like how Vocal Adrenaline had last year… wouldn't be surprising, really.

Whatever it was, he would find out soon enough. The parking lot was empty except for some teacher's cars that had gone in early to do some work, and Mercedes' car. Parking next to hers, he slung his bag over his shoulder and walked towards the building in a speedy manor. Opening the door, he quickly brushed the coif in his hair off to the side, and made his way down the path he had long since memorized to get to the choir room – first left, straight until the end of the hall, then the second left, fifth door on the right.

He tried opening the door, but found it to be locked. Shaking the handle a few more times, he knocked on the door.

"Mercedes? Mercedes, open up! What's going on!" he asked, his voice a pitch higher than usual due to worry. Why would Mercedes lock the door when asking him to go there? He continued rasping his knuckles on the wooden door until he felt it begin to move, and Mercedes' head poked out.

"What is g-" he started only to be interrupted by Mercedes throwing a hand over his mouth, and a finger up to her own lips.

"Shh, don't talk, you'll wake him up." At that, Kurt could tell his face was the perfect picture of confusion. Wake who up? And why would they be sleeping in the choir room? Was this why Mercedes called him? Because she found a sleeping dude in the choir room? Obviously he wasn't a freak, if she was concerned for him getting sleep. That, or she'd knocked some dude out or something and she was worried he'd re-gain consciousness…Oh great, he thought. Now not only do I ramble in real life when I'm worried, but I now ramble in my mind too. How wonderfully awesome.

"Wake who up, exactly?" he whispered once she removed her hand from his mouth. She simple stepped to the side, and directed Kurt inside. Once she did, he instantly knew why she had called him. Sprawled out across a few seats lay Blaine freakin' Anderson, his hair loose and curled, wearing the same clothing he had been the night before.

Walking over towards him, he sat on the seat next to his head and asked Mercedes quietly, "What's he doing here?" She simple shrugged, and Kurt placed a hand on his head, and began to move his curly locks from his face.

"He's got a nasty black eye though," she informed her best friend, gesturing into the direction of the swollen, discolored skin surrounding his right eye. "Think he got in a fight with his parents or somethin'?"

"I don't know, Mercedes… I saw the black eye yesterday, and asked him who had done it. He said it was some jocks, but it doesn't explain why he's here…" Kurt sighed in defeat, deciding it was best just to ask the boy. He snickered a bit at that thought – Blaine would never tell anyone why he was here. He'd just look at them, open his mouth, close it, and look at the floor. Boy, did he know Blaine well, and only after such a short friendship.

Shaking the boy gently, he leaned down to whisper in his ear. "Blaine, Blaine, wake up buddy, c'mon, the chorus room chairs aren't even that comfortable. We can take you to the history room – plenty of people seem to be able to fall asleep in there." Mercedes laughed at his joke, but Kurt just continued to shake the other until he heard a small mumble.

"Can't stop…" his voice sounded tired, and was almost inaudible at his low volume. Mercedes quickly made his way over to the boy, leaning in close with Kurt so that they could hear the other. "Keep… keep going… so close… can feel it…"

As much as he felt like a creeper at the moment, Kurt couldn't find it in himself to wake up the boy. He was dreaming, and obviously he was looking for something in his dream. He knew how disappointing it was to wake up from those dreams where you're looking from something before you find it – so he just sat with Mercedes, listening to the boy mumble incoherent words that made no sense to the two.

Blaine looked to his left, then his right. Nothing. It was pitch black. Placing his hands out to the side, he felt two walls that felt both sturdy, yet soft under his touch. Moving his hands up along the wall, he felt it slowly come closer the higher it went, and eventually found both of his hands above his head, still touching the surface.

So, he was in an underground tunnel…

…fun.

Sighing, he made his way forwards. There was nowhere else to go, right? Well, he could go backwards, but every one of his senses was telling him to go forward. That the farther back he went, the darker it would get. The more stuck he would be. So, he went forwards.

After what felt like hours of walking, he still hadn't hit one turn. He continued to glance around in every direction, keeping both hands outstretched towards the walls. No matter how many times he blinked, no matter how many steps he took, all he could see was pitch black. Hell, if he closed his eyes, it felt brighter.

But he kept going. Even when he tried to stop, his feet seemed to move on their own. His fingers dragged along the dirt walls that kept him from the light, leaving a small path of dust behind from the upturned earth. His footsteps and heavy breathing were the only things he could hear. The air felt grimy, and tasted, well… tasted of Earth.

The more he walked, the more Blaine felt himself having to crouch over to fit into the small space that the tunnel provided. By now, he was leaning straight over so that unless he lifted his head, all he'd be able to see (if he could see in the dark, that is) were his feet. He picked his head up, and felt his head hit the roof of the tunnel. Biting his lower lip, he kept his hands on the walls and continued to walk.

Now, his elbows were pressed up tight against his sides, his hands still on the walls. His head was tucked into his chest as he continued to walk, feeling oddly like a turtle. He wanted to stop walking, to just sit in the dark, but his feet wouldn't let him. And something in him told him that he was getting close, close to whatever it was that he was looking for.

So he kept walking, no matter how painfully close he got to being forced to just roll his way through the tunnel. It's not as though he had a choice in the matter – no matter how much his brain screamed at him to stop, he couldn't. His hands tried to grip at the walls to hold him back, but all that did was pull more dirt from the walls, causing him to cough, which really was quiet painful in his current position.

By the time he was able to stop moving, he was walking on his knees, his hands pressed up dangerously close to his head. He felt stuck, and found himself not being able to move any further. Using the strength he had left, he carefully maneuvered his hands forward, laying them on the ground in front of him, falling flat on his face.

Lifting his head from the dirt, he reached at the ground in front of him, and crawled forward. Now that he had gotten so far, he couldn't stop. He felt his breath coming in raspy breaths, the oxygen level very low where he was. But he kept going. He felt like if he kept going, he would get out. Always the optimistic one, Blaine was.

After a while of crawling, he felt himself being able to once again take in the air around him. Slowly, he placed his hands beneath his chest, and pushed himself up with the little strength he still had. Surprisingly, his head hit nothing but the air. Looking around, he found it still to be pitch black, so he had no way of knowing the size of the room. Lifting an arm, he flailed it around in the general directions of above him, to his left, and in front of him.

Nothing.

Shakily, he got up on his feet, and found himself feeling lightheaded and dizzy from moving too quickly without much air in his lungs. Blinking his eyes, he looked around and felt a small amount of light creep into his eyes. Looking around, however, he wished it hadn't.

All around him, the ground was stained crimson red. There were small puddles of it scattered around the area. Looking behind him, he saw the tunnel he'd been in also stained. Shakily, he looked down at his own clothing, falling backwards into one of the many puddles in shock when he saw his clothes also stained.

Everywhere was covered in blood.

Blaine tried to scream, but found no words coming from his mouth. He looked around frantically, eyes wide, and scrambled backwards, only to find himself hitting something sturdy behind him. Expecting it to be a wall, he leaned his head backwards, eyes closed. Unfortunately for him, when he opened his eyes, he saw a pair looking down at his own. Trying to scream again, he jumped up, only to fall forwards, using his hands as support to break the fall.

Looking behind him, he saw the dark, shadowy creature looking at him, an evil grin marked solely by white on its face. Its eyes appeared to be white dots, like that of a ghost in a cartoon. Blaine felt himself shaking, his wrists giving way under him, causing him to fall to the ground. He tried to crawl forwards, towards a bright light in front of him when he heard a voice calling towards him.

"Don't go, Blaine. You are I are the same, we are, we are!"

The voice didn't sound like any Blaine had ever heard. It sounded like the shadows of many voices, the main one being at such a high pitch that it hurt his ears. He felt a dark hand reach forwards and grab at his ankle, pulling him backwards. Feeling tears slide down his face, Blaine thrashed with the little strength he still had, and looked with eyes that were clouded over by misty tears at the light that he could just tell led him to freedom. He had come so close, and now…

…now it felt too far away.

Kurt looked shocked at the boy beside him as a loud scream came from his mouth. Jumping up from his seat, Kurt kneeled down beside the boy as Mercedes stood off to the side, shocked.

"No! Let go, I'm not! Stop it! No!" Blaine screamed, his voice similar to a whimper. Despite him having screamed, it was still quiet. What shocked Kurt was how frightened the boy was. He was shaking, his lip quivering, and his eyes snapped shut. He saw a few tears glide down Blaine's face as he continued to cry out, and all he could do was stroke the boy's curly hair back and whisper words of comfort to him.

"It's okay, Blaine. Come back to me, okay? It's all okay; it's just Kurt and Mercedes. It's-"

"-Okay, Blaine."

Hearing the words come from the light, Blaine's eyes widened more. He gripped his nails into the Earth below him, trying to stop himself from being pulled backwards. But now he had more reason to go towards that light; he knew the voice, he was certain. It sounded so familiar, and he knew it was Kurt the second he said his own name.

Did that mean they were at the exit of the tunnel? Kurt and Mercedes… sure, he didn't know Mercedes too well, but she seemed nice enough to Kurt. Maybe they were trying to help him… trying to get him out and away from the shadow that was pulling him through the blood-soaked path. Pulling against it with all his force, he only found himself to be pulled back faster. He tried to let out a scream again, but felt nothing come out. His breath was once again being pulled from his body, and he was flipped over only to see the shadow-man's face looming over his own, a grin covering up half his face.

Blaine tried to scramble backwards, but felt his hands being pinned above his head by an invisible force. He shook his head from side to side, mumbling out things that sounded like 'no', and 'stop' as he struggled. The shadow simply continued to watch him with wide, pure-white eyes and a large, pure-white grin. He saw no teeth in its mouth, and its body was simply black, and morphing in shapes at its own will.

Blaine tugged at his arms, trying to get them out of the shadow's reach; only to feel a sharp pain suddenly go threw him. He screeched soundlessly yet again, and felt thick liquid ooze down his arms, and knew immediately what it was. Blood.

Now he rasped for breath, and shakily tried to speak, only to have his mouth open and close a few times repeatedly, struggling to get enough air in his lungs to survive. The next time he looked at the figure above, he felt his face blanch.

Blood oozed from the figure's eyes and mouth, its grin now going up to the sides of its eyes. Its head was tilted slightly, blood trailing down its face and dripping onto Blaine's own. It dripped down Blaine's face, leaving behind a dark red trail on his skin. His hair suddenly felt damp, and he reached his hands that felt tied up down towards it, feeling a liquid on it. Turning his head shakily back, he saw red staining his hands.

By now, he was entirely drenched in blood, and this time when he screamed, he knew anyone around could hear him.

A/N: Apparently, that nightmare gave my friend a nightmare when I let my other friend read it... well, now I feel evil! :D Anyways, I dunno, I just like writing angst sometimes. So, I decided to make an angsty dream. I really should learn to plot this story out... Well, I know some things that will happen at least.

Anywayyyys

Maiqu - Unfortunately, yes D: Poor bb indeed~ Kills me to see wonderful people hurting themselves D:

Annie24601 - Thanks~ It was just the idea that came to mind when I thought of Mentor!Kurt and Mentee(I think that's the word...)!Blaine

redrosegal - Of course I did, you're a great and awesome help! I'm terrible with spelling and grammer (No idea how I keep getting good grades in English, I'm gonna go with spellcheck), so it's really a great help to have you! Not to mention, you're nice and speedy when fanfiction doesn't explode on you~

- Thanks! And crap, thanks for pointing that out ^^ I'll fix it later, when I can better focus, because I don't trust myself not to delete the entire ending by mistake xDD

Anyways, thanks again everyone~ Really didn't expect all the alerts and reviews I've been getting for my terrible writing and plot skills, but I do appreciate it~

~Josh