A/N: Okay. I've got four hours to do this, people! I'm setting a personal goal of four chapters, based on the challenge for thirty-five by tomorrow. Wooo! We can do it! XD

This was prompted by Katerina4life: "Flashbacks when they are old men." So I took this spider and spun a web (where the hell did that come from? I am unpredictable), making it very sad D: and a bit flufferish, hopefully. Enjoy?

Chapter Rating: Just get a box of tissues.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. Seemingly, however, I somehow own this spiderweb (seriously, what the fuck am I saying?)


Final Farewell:

The creak of the rickety porch swing floated through the otherwise peaceful air. The weeping willows' swaying their branches over the perfectly manicured lawn of Blaine and Kurt Hummel-Anderson.

Kurt's hair, no matter how many times he had attempted to dye it, was streaked with gray, now fashioned in the incredibly cliche "Elvis" style. His blue-green eyes were lively, despite his aged appearance. He looked signifancantly less old, as the many years - and hours - spent in his mousiturizing routine.

Blaine's head of curls remained ebony as ever - much to Kurt's dismay. His hazel eyes were rimmed with sagging wrinkles and purple spots, implying the many years of hard work in his father's mill.

"Blaine." Kurt's tone was weary and chipped with disuse. He held out a bony hand, lacing his fingers with his husband's. "Do you remember when we first met?"

Blaine nodded happily, staring up in adoration. "How could I forget, my dear." He pressed his lips to their interlocked knuckles. "In the hallways of Dalton Academy, just before our Warbler performance. You were spying..."

Kurt blinked. "That was one of the best days of my life. Save, of course, for our wedding. Do you recall it?"

"It was June fourteenth, in a rented gazeibo by that crystal lake. You were wearing that suit that fit you in all the right places, and that magnificent blue sash that reflected the shimmering water," Blaine muttered.

Silence, in which both men were overcome with strange sensations of...elevation. "Blaine?"

"I'm here, love," Blaine replied gently. "Perhaps it is our old minds playing tricks. Is that - Kurt, is that my parents?" His gaze was latched onto the cloudless sky.

Kurt shook his head. "That's my mother, right there! And my dad...And Carole! Blaine, what's going on?"

"My parents are dead," Blaine whispered. "Am I feverish?"

"If you are, then I am, too," Kurt said. "I see a meadow...There are posies...Oh, Blaine, posies are our flower."

"It looks so serene up there. Can we go there, Kurt?" Was there a dash of Blaine's livid puppy days in his words.

"I feel like it's our...time...And there's nothing we can do to stop it. Blaine, I'm frightened."

Blaine kissed his husband tenderly. "What are you frightened of? Suppose there is a heaven, suppose there is a hell. You'd go to heaven, hands down. You're charming, intelligant, sassy, beautiful...The list goes on and on. I'll be with you every step of the way," the curly-haired man promised.

Kurt nodded tentatively. "Wherever we go, I want you to know that I love you. And I couldn't have picked a better man to spend my entire life with. I love you, Blaine."

"I love you, too, sweetie."

The bodies of the men, limpened, pulses halting along with their love-engorged hearts. Their souls, however, journeyed into the next land. They didn't know where, why, or how they had gotten there, but they had been placed in the all-too familiar seventeen-year-old bodies.

Their parents were there. It was quiet and gorgeous. They realized they didn't care anymore. They wanted to enjoy the serendipity.


A/N: I started this at 7:04pm and it is now 7:30. Holy. Hell. I can do this...Shit, can I do this?

Love,

Lexi