Super quick update, ya? Thank you so much to the people who left reviews, it makes me happy when I read them. :) Also, I have people from 21 different countries who have read the fic? What?! This is my first fic ever, I had no idea how much of a wide range of Glee/Klaine fans that would read this! Anyways, this chapter is much longer than the last one, hope you like it. :)

~*~xo~*~

Blood. So much blood.

Everywhere Blaine looks, there's blood. There's dried blood all over the walls, all over the floors, and even on the ceiling. Blaine gasps, horrified at the sight before him. What the hell happened in here? It looks like there was a massacre. He limps through the hall, darting his eyes around at the multiple bullet holes scattered on the walls. The sight of everything terrifies him, but he keeps gliding through, desperate to find somebody—anybody—that can help him, or tell him what the hell is going on.

As Blaine makes his way through the halls, the stench in the air grows thicker… It's disgusting. It smells like something, or multiple things, died in here and have been rotting for ages. With all the blood on the walls…could it be people? Dead people? Blaine wonders as he advances through the halls, frightened for the answer. He finally comes across another door. This one seemed to have a window in it, allowing Blaine to look through. As he nears the door, he slows his pace. Is that…a…a person…? As he peers closer, he gets a better look. The sight nearly forces him to collapse.

Blaine widens his eyes in absolute horror, uttering his first words since he woke from his coma. "Oh my God. Oh my God, oh shit!" He stumbles back, clutching his chest. He can hear his heart beating rapidly inside him. He suddenly receives the urge to throw up—badly. Doubling over, Blaine darts his hands to his stomach while he opens his mouth, gagging, but nothing comes out.

There's a body, almost completely unidentifiable. It looks mutilated. The only conclusion Blaine can come to about it, is that it's human. The bones would be completely visible if they weren't covered profusely with blood. Most of the flesh and meat were gone. Where did it go? How did this happen? Who did this? His head is ringing with these questions. He staggers away from the door, trying to walk in a different direction.

Down the hall, Blaine comes across more doors. This time, they're large double doors. He narrows his eyes at them. They're closed off and heavily guarded by chains and a long, wooden stake wedged in between the handles. Painted on the doors, with huge, red letters are the words, 'DON'T OPEN. DEAD INSIDE.' Those are barely what catch Blaine off-guard, though. What really makes him panic, is the fact that the doors are moving. Someone…or something is trying to get through the door. Petrified, he is frozen in his spot for a few moments, watching the doors. His eyes widen as he spots a hand slowly pushing through the crack, seemingly trying to get to Blaine. Jumping back, he gasps at the sight.

Although it doesn't seem like whatever is on the other side of the door can get through, Blaine keeps his distance as he watches and listens. Behind the door, he can hear the creature, or multiple creatures, making loud noises. The sound being emitted from their mouths is something between a growl and a choking noise. He's never heard anything like it…and it's terrifying.

They sound evil. They sound as if they're hungry. And they look as though they want to get to Blaine. Reality hits him hard as he realizes that whatever these creatures are, they want him. They want to eat him. That's enough to send Blaine shuffling away quickly, turning his head back every now and then to see if he is being followed. He needs to get out of this hospital, no more stops. No more detours. Hopefully, when he gets outside, things will be normal again. Deep in Blaine's gut, where his common sense lies, he knows that won't be the case.

After a good ten minutes of searching, Blaine comes across what he guesses to be an exit door. The light shining through the cracks is a huge indicator. Taking a deep breath, he moves his arms forward, pushing the door open and staggering through. The light from outside shines on his face, completely blinding his sight. He hasn't seen any form of sunlight in months, so the intense light in front of him is overwhelming.

Shielding his eyes with his hand, Blaine moves himself forward. The bright sunlight in his face slowly loses its brightness as his eyes adjust to it. He stops walking, waiting for his eyes to adjust fully before advancing. He needs to get a good look at what's outside, what he's going to have to face in a few moments. After a moment of patience, the world is fully visible again. Squinting, Blaine can make out many army trucks. It looks like the army had set up base here. But why? What was going on here while he was asleep? It looks as though World War III had broken out. Hell, maybe that's what happened. God, he hopes Kurt's okay. He knows his first destination: home. Maybe Kurt would be there, hiding out from all this madness. He'd walk through the door, and call for him, to be met with Kurt's tackling embrace. He smiles very lightly and fondly at this thought. He can't wait to see Kurt. He just hopes this isn't merely wishful thinking. The one thing he knows for sure is that he's going to find Kurt. No matter what the costs are to him, that's the one thing he can promise.

Blaine walks forward, his eyes darting around to look at everything before him. There is trash littered all over the floor. There are random crates scattered all around him. The place looks like it was just…abandoned here. As if the army was here, and they just left so quickly that they didn't bother to bring anything with them. As he makes his way through, he suddenly stops dead in his tracks. Strewn over one of the crates, was a man. Not only a man, but a dead, half-eaten man. Blaine steps backwards, covering his mouth with his hand. He quickly attempts to compose himself, turning away from the body and walking in another direction. Did he have to get used to this? Seeing dead bodies isn't something he can easily get used to, but it seemed as though he was going to see quite a few.

As a cop, Blaine had seen dead people before. He's even had to shoot people. As a matter of fact, he had shot a criminal in the head in that gun fight that he himself had gotten shot in. Although he had seen dead people before, the gruesome state in which these corpses were left in were something he had never seen outside of television, and it made him sick.

Walking through the base, Blaine comes across a number of dead people. Fortunately, these people were covered in white sheets, so he was spared from the sight of them. It occurs to him that he may need a weapon, if the corpses were any indication. Something big was obviously going on, and he needed to be prepared in case he ran into whatever was causing this. Unfortunately, when the army had fled, they seemed to have taken all their weapons with them. The only thing that Blaine finds is a lone ax, lying on the concrete. Picking it up, he wanders away from the base, in the direction that he knows his home is in.

Over an hour passes as Blaine saunters on down the streets towards his home, finally nearing it. He hadn't passed any signs of life on his way here, nor did he stop to investigate anything on the way. He was too eager to find his husband. With his eyes trained on his house in the distance, he walks onward, clutching his ax tightly.

Something catches his eye. Or should he say someone. There's a person. An actual person! This is the first alive person he's come across. Blaine feels a glimmer of hope. Maybe not everyone was dead. He's not the only one alive; he doesn't have to worry about that anymore. The person seems to notice Blaine, turning towards him and walking forward. It's a woman, from the looks of it. He raises his arm weakly, waving towards her in his excitement. She doesn't respond, she only keeps walking—er, limping. She looks hurt. She's staggering, not walking. As they near each other, Blaine narrows his eyes in confusion. She doesn't look right. She just looks… dead. As if she's a walking corpse.

He stops walking, trying to figure the woman out. She's wearing tattered clothing that looks to be horribly blood-stained. Her hair is ratty, and looks like it hasn't been brushed in ages. Her skin is a pale, almost blue, color. But, the sight wasn't what really scared Blaine. What really made him brace himself, what made him raise his ax in panic, was the noise she was making. The familiar sound escaping from her bloody lips was that noise he had heard before; a mix between a growl and a choking sound.

"Hey…s-step back!" he yelled at the woman, waving his ax at her. She didn't flinch; instead, she started moving even faster, as if drawn by his voice and action. Blaine clenches his jaw, tightening his grip on the ax. He raises it above his head, ready to strike her. When she got to be about five feet away from him, he's had enough. He slams the ax down on her head as hard as he can, closing his eyes in disgust as it pierces her skull open. He really didn't want to have to resort to killing her, but the woman didn't seem human. She looked as though she might have been once, but not anymore. Opening his eyes, he pulls the ax out of her head, watching her body as it collapses to the floor.

Still a bit shaken, Blaine tears his eyes away from the dead body, quickly moving towards his house again. "God, I hope he's okay. Please let Kurt be okay,"Blaine chants lowly to himself as he walks up to the doorstep of his home. Without hesitation, he grabs the doorknob, twisting it and pushing the door open. The first thing he notices is that the door was cracked. It looks as though someone had forcefully broken it in. With a worried gulp, he closes the door, walking further into the house. His eyes glance around at every corner, looking for any sign of his husband.

"Kurt!" he called, "Kurt, I'm home! Where are you, honey?!"

No answer.

Blaine's heart only speeds up faster, his own worry settling in further. "Kurt, answer me!" Blaine screams out as loud as he can.

Still no answer.

"Please, Kurt," he sobs out the last two words, fast-walking frantically through the house, checking every room. Nothing. He's not here. He feels the tears form in his eyes quickly, not even trying to stop them. Running into their room, he collapses onto the floor, dropping the ax he was still holding, and grabbing his face in his hands. He sobs hysterically into his palms, screaming out once more, "KURT!"

He feels lost; devastated.

He doesn't know how long he laid there on the floor, smacking his face with his hands, willing himself to wake up from this terrible nightmare. It could have been days, he doesn't know, nor does he care. All he can think about is the blue-eyed brunette that he is so desperate to find. The boy he had met a little over ten years ago; the one he loves, the one that he'd do anything at all to protect.

He is so terrified. What if Kurt's hurt? What if he's in an unsafe place? What if he's dead? Blaine shakes his head, pushing himself off the floor at last. He decides to take a look around the house. Taking a shaky breath, he steps over to his dresser, opening the drawer. He only notices now that he's still wearing his blue hospital gown. Sighing, he reaches into his drawer, looking through it for his deputy uniform. Figuring he might as well wear it instead of his own fancy-looking clothes, he reaches in and grabs the uniform.

Blaine quickly changes out of his gown and into the uniform, making sure to mind his bullet wound, which is covered by a bandage. Once he's dressed, he walks into the bathroom, opening the drawer and pulling out his razor. Now's his chance to clean himself up. He grabs the shaving cream and lathers it on his face before shaving his chin clean. Getting a good look at himself in the mirror, he frowns. Blaine looks awful. He looks tired, hungry, lost, and sad. There are dark bags underneath his eyes and his skin is pale from the lack of sunlight.

Backing out of the bathroom, he walks over to his nightstand, opening the drawer to grab the small travel bag and the picture of Kurt he always kept inside. He grabs both the items, stopping momentarily when he spots a little bottle of lubricant, still half full from when he and Kurt had last used it. He smiles fondly, letting out a soft, dry chuckle. Taking a quick glance around the room, as if someone could possibly be around to see him, he grabs the bottle, stuffing it in his bag.

Closing the drawer, Blaine turns to exit the room. Before he takes more than three steps, he notices something. His and Kurt's memory drawer—the one filled with countless photo albums, pressed flowers, rings, and other items that Kurt and Blaine have collected over the years of them knowing each other—is open. It's open, and Blaine hasn't touched it yet. He gasps, quickly walking over to the open drawer and peering inside.

It's empty. There's nothing left in the drawer, it's completely cleaned out. Kurt.

Kurt's alive.

He was here, he was prepared to leave, and he wasn't panicked enough to where he would forget these items. It was obvious that he left in somewhat of a hurry, indicated by the open drawer, but Blaine paid no attention to that detail. He could only think of the fact that Kurt was alive. He was alive, and he was going to find him. He would make it his mission to find his husband; to have him safe in his arms again.

~*~xo~*~

Aaaand there's the end of chapter two. The next one should come fairly quickly; it's already written. Like I mentioned earlier, I have lots and lots and lots of edits to make. It's a bit more exciting than this one, I promise. Also, please review, I'd absolutely love to hear anything you want to say. Any notes, comments, or happy thoughts are welcome. :)

P.S. Review bar is right down below in case you forgot. Convenient, yes? ;D