AN: Hello! First off I have to start this chapter by apologizing again for the wait between chapters. I'll try to do better! I hope you all had a chance to see the beautiful art freakingpotter did for this fic (it's on my Tumblr). Just the time she spent on the mirrors alone astounds me.
Also a HUGE thank you to lilyvandersteen for being my beta for this chapter, she is amazing.
Enoy!
"Things are never quite as scary when you've got a best friend." – Bill Watterson
August 2006 – Lima, Ohio
The Lima Public Library was a square one-story structure constructed from pale beige bricks and with large round windows. It was small unassuming building, but inside, it was packed with rows and rows of tightly arranged shelves, as if the librarians had done their best to stock as many books as possible. Kurt was sitting in the one of the wide inset circular windows that made perfect little reading nooks, leaning back with his feet propped up and a pile of books by his side.
Kurt had been here for hours, but the library was proving useless today. He'd browsed the shelves, taken out all the books that looked promising and then thumbed through each of them, but he hadn't found what he was looking for – any information on enchanted mirrors or magically communicating with someone.
All he'd found was a cheesy book on psychics and a few books about the production and manufacturing of mirrors. So nothing helpful. He sighed as he shut the book he was skimming feeling frustrated and anxious. This research was meant to distract from the one thing he wanted to do the most: talk to Blaine again.
Blaine, his mirror friend, the boy he'd talked to through the glass like it was some kind of magical walkie-talkie. Kurt couldn't get him out of his head, his warm eager voice and the way he'd laugh at Kurt's snarkiness instead of getting offended like some did, and how lonely he had sounded. The last thing in the world he wanted was for Blaine to think someone else had abandoned him.
Kurt's young tender heart constricted at the thought.
Over a week ago, Burt had decided he wanted to get the mirror appraised after all. He sent it to a friend out of town, who said he'd take a look for free as soon as he had a chance. That meant Kurt had no idea when the mirror would be back, and he'd temporarily lost the most magical item he'd ever come across – along with his connection to the sweet, unhappy boy he'd met through the glass.
Kurt was glad he had plans for the afternoon, since research wasn't proving distracting. Mercedes needed a dress for a family wedding, and she'd invited him to go shopping. He walked from the library down Main Street to reach a little consignment store in the pretty, touristy part of town. Elizabeth's Antiques was in this area, it had good foot traffic and a scenic location. However, if you headed east a few blocks, the small rural town became a lot older and rundown and poorer-looking, but tourists didn't really go in that direction.
Mercedes was waiting outside of the consignment store, an eager smile on her pretty face, her bangs swept to the side and her dark hair shining in the sun. She greeted Kurt with a tight hug and excitedly started telling him what she was looking for.
"Ugh, Kurt, I wish you could come to this wedding with me!" Mercedes called from behind the curtained dressing room, trying on her fifth dress, "It's going to be a bunch of family and family friends I haven't seen in years." She sighed dramatically. "At least I get to sing at the reception."
"Well, fussy old relatives or not, you are going to look incredible," Kurt said, sitting on a chair outside the dressing room and watching as Mercedes parted the dressing room curtains and sauntered out in a flowy purple dress. She spun around, causing the skirt to fan out like an upside-down lily.
"What do you think?"
"You look like a dream," Kurt said, admiring the pale shade of purple organza, beautiful against Mercedes' dark skin, trying to focus on fashion and not the memory of the sweet voice of a boy named Blaine.
Mercedes agreed with him and made her purchase. They left the boutique with Mercedes's new dress safely zipped in a garment bag. "Do you have to go help at the shop today?"
"No, my dad gave me the day off. I think he thinks I need to have more fun," Kurt said, digging his hands into his pockets. "Act like a kid." He would be having fun talking to his new friend if his father hadn't taken he mirror away, but Kurt didn't add that thought out loud.
"Well, you do tend to act like you're 13 going on 40, Kurt."
Kurt gave her a side-eye. "I just… Sometimes I feel like my dad needs someone to look after him, you know? After my mom died and it was just us… He barely knew how to cook or do household chores, and I learned along with him." Kurt shrugged. "I don't mind. And I have fun, in my own way."
Mercedes smiled softly at him. "I know you do, and I always have a good time with you." She reached over and squeezed his arm. "Where to next?"
They were still on Main Street, and Kurt's feet slowed as they came to a new shop he'd seen before but never had the time to stop at. "Want to go in?" he asked, nodding to the front door.
Mercedes looked up at the sign for Indigo Pyramid, her brow furrowed. "A mystic shop? I don't know, Kurt, I'm not sure my mom would like it."
"It's harmless, Mercedes."
Mercedes glanced from the store to Kurt and bit the inside of her cheek, thinking, "Oh, okay, fine."
Kurt bounced on his toes and smiled before they went in. A long string of bells on the door that chimed as they entered. The first thing Kurt noted was the strong scent of incense in the air. Rich and spicy, and just a little overwhelming. There were thick rugs thrown over the floor, many of them crossing over each other, a nook in the back with a few reading chairs and soft music in the air, chimes and a pan flute, probably meant to be calming, but it just came off a little tacky to Kurt.
The store seemed to sell an assortment of books on healing herbs and the magical properties of rocks, as well as a whole section on astrology. They also carried tarot cards, candles and incense and a glass display case of crystals. Nothing extreme, nothing that interesting really. Kurt was a little disappointed.
"Okay, this isn't bad," Mercedes said, looking around before lowering her voice, "It's kind of cheesy, don't you think?"
Just then, a woman burst from the back room. "Oh, guests!" she said with a wide smile, her long curly hair flowing down her back and her arms jingling with the sound of bracelets. She looked every bit like someone you'd expect to run a mystic shop. Flowy dress, no make-up, a tattoo visible on her collar bone. "Can I help you find something?"
"We're just looking," Mercedes said with a smile.
"I have a new candle in stock - smells like rosemary and mint, very calming. Has a good ambiance to it, really speaks to the spirit, you know?"
Mercedes coughed and Kurt could see she was holding back her laughter the best she could.
"Thanks," Kurt said quickly, "We'll take a look."
The woman smiled and nodded, but her eyes lingered on him. "Do I know you?"
"Um… My family owns the antique shop a few shops down."
"Ah, antiques. I love antiques. I'll have to stop by see if you have anything… special." She winked. "I'm Sheila, by the way."
Mercedes had wandered off, looking at the display of healing crystals and Kurt gave Sheila an appraising look. There was something about the way she said "special".
"Special how?"
"Oh, you know, some old objects just… carry their history with them. You can feel it, almost hear it."
"Uh huh." Kurt couldn't decide if this woman knew what she was talking about or just happened to stumble upon something that sounded like she knew what she was talking about. Kurt glanced around the stereotypical store. It didn't really seem like she knew about real magic… and yet how wonderful would it be to find someone who did?
Kurt walked up to the front counter and lowered his voice a little. "Do you… do you know anything about mirrors?" he asked cautiously.
"Mirrors?" She raised one eyebrow. "I don't sell any here."
"Right. Right." Kurt moved to turn away.
"They are very interesting though. Often believed to be used in the magic arts as a form of communication."
Kurt spun back around, "Really?"
She leaned over the counter, resting her chin on her hands, and Kurt could see the tattoo on her color bone was the silhouette of a crow, flying with wings outstretched, feathers falling off as it soared – some of the cast-off feathers morphing into stars.
"Communication with who?" Kurt said, leaning over the counter as well.
"With what," Sheila smiled.
"Excuse me?"
"You should ask what mirrors allow us to communicate with."
Kurt's shoulders slumped in disappointment. He didn't need to hear any ghost stories. Blaine wasn't a ghost. He was a real person out there in the world somewhere.
"Do you mean ghosts?" Kurt asked. "That mirrors allow us to talk to the land of the dead or something?"
"Oh no. No no. That is actually a rather modern idea. It was very popular in the early ninetieth century. But no, that's not what I mean. Mirrors or reflections, the right ones, can help you speak with-"
"Excuse me," Mercedes said politely, sliding up to the front counter to join them and holding up a necklace with a purple crystal dangling from a delicate silver chain. "How much are the necklaces?"
"Oh, you have a good eye. The purple quartz is known for its calming meditation powers."
"It's also really pretty," Mercedes smiled.
Sheila laughed. "It's twenty dollars, but since you are a first-time customer, and have a special event coming up, I'll let you have it for fifteen."
"Thank you!" Mercedes beamed as she laid her garment bag down on the counter and grabbed her wallet from her purse.
Kurt studied Sheila's face. It was hard to tell how old she was. She had lines around her eyelids and lips, but her eyes looked young, "How did you know Mercedes had a special event coming up?"
"Sometimes I just know things."
Kurt's eyebrows rose.
"Also…" Sheila winked and nodded towards the garment bag.
"Ah."
"You know, if you really are interested in speaking to the dead, that is serious stuff, but I might have an Ouija board in the back that could help," Sheila offered.
"Wait. What?" Mercedes asked, turning to Kurt in surprise, money in hand. "Ouija board?"
"No no. I don't want to talk to ghosts. I don't even really believe in ghosts. Thanks, though."
Sheila shrugged and rang Mercedes up. "Enchanted mirrors are of more interest to you, then?"
"Um…" Kurt cleared his throat and quickly shot a glance at Mercedes, who was watching him with a puzzled expression. Sheila seemed to notice the exchange.
"I'll definitely check out your antique store sometime," Sheila added, changing the subject with a breezy smile.
Kurt and Mercedes thanked her before heading to the door, "Oh, wait, Mercedes," Kurt said turning around, "I forgot something. Meet you outside?"
Mercedes nodded, and Kurt went back up to the counter, "Real quick, mirrors help you communicate with what?" Kurt asked and Sheila smiled.
"With the other worlds, of course."
Kurt got home late in the afternoon to find a brown paper wrapped package sitting on the front porch. He tucked it under his arm and made his way to the kitchen, setting it on the counter as he found himself a snack. Once he had his peanut butter crackers in hand, he slid out a stool and took a seat at the counter, turning the package to face him. It was addressed to his father, but Kurt couldn't contain his smile when he saw who it was from.
"Yes!" Kurt hurried off the stool, forgetting his snack, and ran for the kitchen phone, quickly dialing the number for the antique shop.
"Elizabeth's," Burt's gruff voice came down the line.
"It's here! The mirror is back!"
"Who's this?"
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Are you kidding? It's Kurt, I'm calling from home. Your friend sent the mirror back, I have it here. Can I please open it?"
Burt chuckled. "You're really excited about an old mirror, aren't you?"
"You know it's more than just a mirror, dad. Please."
"Sure, Kurt. You can open it. Steve probably has a note in there for me. I'll read it when I get home tonight."
"Thanks, dad," Kurt said, almost hanging up the phone.
"Oh, and Kurt, will you get the chicken for dinner tonight out of the freezer to thaw?"
"I already did that this morning." Kurt glanced anxiously back at the package, ready to say goodbye to his dad so he could get to it.
"Can you check what veggies we have in the fridge? I'm going to stop by the grocery store on the way home."
"We just went shopping a couple days ago."
"Do we have milk?"
"Dad!"
Burt laughed.
"You're doing this on purpose."
"Sorry, kid," Burt chuckled, "I'll leave you alone. See you this evening."
Kurt fondly rolled his eyes again as he said goodbye to his father, quickly hanging up as he went back to the counter. He turned the package over and carefully ran his finger between the paper, untaping it without tearing it. A habit he had from opening gifts and saving the wrapping. Once he got through the brown paper, Kurt quickly opened the box, dug through the Styrofoam peanuts and pulled out the mirror. It was wrapped in bubble wrap that Kurt made quick work of.
Finally, he had his mirror back, the silver still gleaming and the glass slightly clouded over. It was beautiful. There was a note in the box from Steve, but Kurt didn't care how much the antique had been appraised at. To him, it was invaluable.
Kurt went down to his bedroom, hands shaking with excitement. He slipped off the black brogue boots he was wearing and sat down on his big comfy bed, mirror held in his lap. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, listening, hoping the mirror's magic was still audible to him.
He smiled as he heard a rush of wind and the call of seagulls, the rhythm of rolling waves. And then the quiet murmuring that the mirror always settled on. It still worked. Of course it did, it had no reason not to, but Kurt couldn't help but be relieved.
Kurt spread his hand against the cool glass and kept his eyes closed. "Blaine?" he whispered, hoping his new friend could hear him. "Blaine, are you there?"
Kurt wasn't sure how communication through the mirror worked. He'd only done it once, and that time, it was Blaine who he heard first, crying and alone. Kurt's heart twisted. It had been eleven days and Kurt hadn't had a chance to really say goodbye to Blaine. What if they never got to talk again?
"Blaine?" Kurt tried again; he opened his eyes and looked down at the mirror. He could still hear the gentle whispering. He tapped the glass lightly with his finger; the mirror tapped an echoing rhythm back. Kurt smiled, it was working – but where was Blaine?
August 2006 – Bluespruce, Maine
Blaine lay on his back, knees bent and feet flat on the ground, the sun bright above him and warming his skin. He wiggled his toes, feeling the sand between them. It had been two weeks since Lucy left, two weeks of having to make his own fun without a friend by his side.
Two weeks without hearing any voices from his mirror.
Blaine had almost completely convinced himself that Kurt had been a dream. Mostly because it was too good to be true, the only friend he'd made this summer left and suddenly a voice was coming from a mirror and saying all the things Blaine needed to hear? Yeah, that couldn't be real.
He wished it was, part of him was still hanging on to the hope that Kurt was an actual person – even if he never got to talk to him again, he liked the idea of a boy with a gentle voice and a caring heart and a magic antique shop out there somewhere in the world.
Blaine listened to the sound of the ocean, the waves rolling in, the wind breezing gently over him, the seagulls cawing, hoping he had food to share with them. He really missed home and his parents, but he knew when the summer was over, he was going to miss this place, and Aunt Helen too. Now that he knew her better, he was going to insist on visiting her more often. Not waiting another decade to see her again.
Blaine opened his eyes as he heard someone approaching, and turned his head to see Aunt Helen walking towards him. She smiled and sat down in the sand next to him, pushing her glasses up her nose. Helen lifted her face to the sun; eyes closed, and took a deep breath in. "I spend too much time shut up with my old books."
"You love your old books," Blaine said, smiling up at her.
She looked down, matching his smile. "Yes, I do."
They shared a comfortable silence for a moment, both of them soaking up the sun, "You know, you only have a few more weeks and then you finally get to go home."
"Hmmm," Blaine hummed, his eyes closed again.
"Aren't you excited?"
He opened his eyes and squinted against the sun. "I didn't want to come here, you know."
"I do know that."
"But I'm really glad now that I did. I'm going to miss it here."
"Maybe you could come back again next summer? For a little while?"
Blaine sat up next to his aunt, beaming, "I would love that."
They smiled at each other and looked back out at the blue-green waves, neither of them needing to say anything to enjoy one another's company.
That evening, Blaine thought about going back home as he got ready for bed. It would be a flurry of activity, getting ready for the approaching school year. He'd be in the 6th grade this year, and he was excited about starting middle school. A new school could be fun, or at least he hoped so. He'd never really considered himself as "in the closet" - his family knew he was gay - but he'd never made a declaration of it either. Maybe middle school would be the time to do that. After all, there would be school dances and school crushes, and he wanted to just be himself.
He climbed into bed and flipped on the little lamp on the nightstand, grabbing his Nintendo DS for some gaming before sleep. He had been a little bored since Lucy left, but not as lonely as that first night. Still, he glanced up from his game, pausing it, and looked across the room at the mirror. He wished he had someone his age to talk to. Actually, not someone, not just anyone, he wanted to talk to Kurt.
Blaine bit his lip and then cleared his throat. "Um… Kurt?" he called softly. No matter how many times in the bright light of day he convinced himself he just dreamed Kurt up, in the dark of his room at night, it always seemed like maybe it really did happen. Magic seemed possible with moonshine streaming through the window.
"Kurt?" he called again, louder this time as he put his game down and leaned forward. It was no use. Even if Kurt had been real, it seemed to have been a fluke that they were able to speak to each other. All the mirror did now was tap sometimes, like it always had.
He was reaching for his game again when a voice pierced through the stillness, startling Blane.
"Blaine! Blaine, is that you?"
A wide grin spread over Blaine's face, and he excitedly moved on to his knees, crawling to the end of the bed just to be closer to the mirror. "Kurt! You're back! And of course it's me. How many mirror friends do you have?"
He heard Kurt laugh, and it made him smile even wider.
"Only one. Only you. But I've been talking to my mirror like a crazy person for days now and you've never been there."
"I've been talking to the mirror hanging in my room for nearly two weeks, where have you been? I started to think I had made you up."
"Oh, Blaine, I'm sorry. My dad sent the mirror away to be appraised, and I didn't have it, but I do now!" Kurt sounded so excited to talk to him again that it made Blaine's chest feel warm and fuzzy. "I guess for the past few days we haven't been at our mirrors at the same time."
Blaine couldn't help but let out a happy laugh of his own. "You're real. I'm glad you're real."
"Me too. I mean, I'm glad you are. How are you?"
"Well, no more crying into my pillow, if that's what you mean." Blaine could feel his cheeks heating up, remembering the embarrassing way they first met.
"I'm glad."
"I have so much to tell you, though! I need to talk to someone who knows about magic."
"I have stuff to tell you too!" Kurt said excitedly, his voice drifting through the glass, "But you go first."
Blaine reached back for a pillow and hugged it closely to his chest. Kurt was real. Blaine hadn't realized how much he'd needed that to be true. "First, you should know that my aunt's house is special," Blaine started. "She says there's magic in it, and she's obviously right. I mean, we're talking in a pretty magical way."
Kurt let out a soft chuckle from the other side of the glass, and Blaine felt so grateful to have someone to talk about this with. When he went home next month, he would have to pretend that he'd had a perfectly normal summer, without any magic in it, and he was not looking forward to that at all.
"Aunt Helen says that my great-great-great-, I don't remember how many greats, grandmother was a witch, and there's this really creepy old portrait of her that freaks me out… and you said other objects besides mirrors could have magic."
"Yeah."
"What if I found something magical that… it isn't… that doesn't… feel right."
"What do you mean?"
Blaine closed his eyes and tried to picture talking to Kurt in person. He couldn't do it, he had no idea what Kurt looked like, but his voice sounded concerned.
"I don't know, is there such a thing as... bad magic?"
"Yes." Kurt's voice was hushed, reverent. "Do you think there's bad magic in the house?"
Blaine sighed before answering out loud, "Yeah. I mean at first everything here scared me, but I think that's because I never really believed in magic before this, and Aunt Helen likes to talk about ghost and witches and…" Blaine trailed off, not knowing what to say.
"It's creepy?" Kurt supplied.
"Yes. It is."
Kurt hummed and Blaine imagined him nodding his head, "That's understandable."
"But if… if there was some kind of bad magic in the house, I don't think it's in everything. Could it be just in one thing?" Blaine felt nervous just thinking about the mirror upstairs, but he had been waiting weeks to talk to Kurt about it.
"Yes. That's completely possible. My mom taught me how to detect dark magic and since I lost her, I've found one object like that all on my own."
"Lost her?" All thoughts of asking Kurt more about magic were halted at those ominous words.
"Um, yeah…" Kurt was quiet for a long moment, and Blaine almost called out his name just to make sure they could still hear each other, "She died. Five years ago."
"Oh." Blaine's heart strained in his chest. He thought about how much he'd missed his mom and dad this summer and couldn't bear the thought of losing them. "I'm so sorry."
"It was hard. It's still hard. I miss her all the time, you know?"
"I'm sorry," Blaine repeated, and he wanted to kick himself for not knowing what else to say. He thought back to when his grandmother died a few years back. All his mom had wanted to do was talk about her.
"Tell me about her. Your mom," Blaine said. The upstairs mirror could wait, Kurt was more important. "What was she like?"
He heard a choked-off laugh through the mirror, "Do you really want to hear about her?"
"Yes."
"She was wonderful."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. She was the one who taught me how to detect magic and to know if it was dark or light. I think she would have taught me more if she'd had the time, but…" Kurt cleared his throat. "She liked to sing. It was her idea to open an antique shop. My dad was a mechanic when they met, but they wanted a business that was theirs together."
"I can't imagine how much you miss her."
"It's rough sometimes. But I have my dad. He always says I'm more like my mom than him, but he's a good dad, and he tries really hard to understand me, even if we don't have a lot in common. One time, when I was about nine, he set up a tea party for me in the front yard." Kurt giggled at the memory, "Plastic tea set, stuffed animal guests and all. He realized I hadn't had one since mom died."
Blaine smiled, scooting back against his headboard and slipping his legs under his covers, still hugging a pillow to his chest. He kept asking questions, and Kurt told story after story about his mother. How she instilled in him a love of magic and music, how she always had the best arts and crafts for them to do together on rainy days. How she and his dad would work together in the kitchen, Elizabeth cooking and Burt cleaning up after her.
Blaine loved every moment of it. He could hear the joy in Kurt's voice, and when Kurt admitted he didn't get to talk about his mom like this very often, Baine was glad he'd asked. He'd just met Kurt, but making him happy was already vitally important to Blaine.
The mirror did that odd warping noise every once in a while, muffling Kurt's words. They figured out it happened when either of them would share information about where they were or where they lived or even last names. It was like the mirror, or the magic Kurt corrected Blaine, didn't want them to be able to find each other. Blaine was disappointed about that. He wanted to look Kurt up in the real world, but it seemed their magical mirror conversations were all l they were allowed.
Blaine didn't have a chance to ask Kurt about the third floor mirror that night. They stayed up late, talking about all sorts of things, and Blaine was enjoying himself so much he actually forgot about it. For now, just getting to know Kurt was the most pressing thing on Blaine's mind.
Talking to Kurt had become the best part of Blaine's day. They decided to go to their mirrors the same time every day to meet. Blaine would sit in bed and talk and listen and laugh. It got to the point that Blaine had stayed up late talking to Kurt so many nights in a row he actually took naps in the afternoon to make up for the lost sleep.
They could have tried talking during the day, but neither of them wanted to be caught doing it. It was their secret and they liked it that way. It made their friendship seem top-secret and adventurous. Blaine hadn't mentioned the third floor mirror. Mostly, he was having so much fun with Kurt he didn't even think about it, and the few times he could have brought it up, he chose not to. He didn't want to spoil the magic he shared with Kurt by worrying about less friendly magic. In truth, Blaine had decided not to think about the mirror at all. Out of sight, out of mind was the rule he was following.
Between the beach and the fun activities his aunt kept coming up with and his growing friendship with Kurt, the last few weeks of summer were flying by. Blaine was happy to see his parents soon, but he was also dreading the day he left his aunt's house and had no way of contacting Kurt. He was going to miss Aunt Helen as well, but she would still be part of his life. His biggest worry was leaving Kurt behind. What if this one month of summer was all the time he ever had with him?
Blaine had friends back home, but no one like Kurt. No one who this easy to talk to about anything the way his unseen mirror friend was. And no one that made his heart do backflips in his chest just with the sound of their laugh.
"Do you think I could find a magic mirror back home?" Blaine asked one evening, only a few days before he was to leave Callaway Place.
"I don't see how."
"But apparently, there is magic everywhere. You find magic items at your store all the time."
"Not all the time."
"A lot," Blaine argued. He didn't want to give up on this idea.
He heard Kurt sigh. "Yeah, okay, it happens maybe once a month or so, but in my whole life, I've never found anything like this mirror. I've never seen this kind of magic before."
"What if I took one of my aunt's mirrors? I mean, I'd ask her first." Blaine suggested, thinking about how all the mirrors here made that tapping sound.
"That might work!" Kurt answered excitedly, but then his voice trailed off. "But… It's strange that all the mirrors there seem to be magic. It makes me think it might be the house that is magic, not the mirrors."
"I still think I should try." Blaine was feeling desperate. After just three short weeks, Kurt already felt like a best friend, and he didn't want to lose that.
"Is there a little one you could ask for?"
Blaine bunched up his forehead in thought. "All the mirrors are actually kind of big, now that I think of it, but I could ask my aunt."
"It's worth a try," Kurt said, and he actually sounded hopeful.
"If not, then I plan on coming back, for at least a short trip, next summer."
Kurt was quiet for a moment before speaking up in a soft voice. "That's a year away."
"I know."
"We wouldn't be able to talk for a whole year."
"I know," Blaine repeated, his heart sinking.
"I'm… I'm going to miss you." Kurt's words were so soft that Blaine barely heard them.
"Me too."
They were quiet for a moment, and Blaine felt like he might cry. He heard Kurt sniff.
"People are going to think I'm crazy when I go home and start talking to mirrors to see if you answer," Blaine said, trying to lift the mood.
Kurt let out a little laugh, and Blaine smiled.
"I'll be in the bathroom at school, looking at my reflection and going, 'Hello? Hello, anyone there?'"
Kurt laughed louder.
"I'll be in the car with my mom, looking in the side mirror and calling your name."
"Don't," Kurt said, laughing hard, "Please don't, your mom really will think you've lost it."
"What if you talked back, though? She'd probably swerve off the road. Yeah, no talking to mirrors in the car."
Kurt sighed long and happily, "Good rule. No freaking your mom out and making her run off the road." After a moment, he added, "Do ask your aunt about bringing a mirror home, though."
Blaine was lying on his back on his bed, a smile on his face. "I will. I don't know what excuse I'll make, but I will."
"You're parents are coming!" Aunt Helen announced at breakfast one morning. Millie had made crepes with powdered sugar and fresh fruit – that was another thing Blaine was going to miss, Millie's cooking.
"What do you mean, my parents are coming? They're coming here?"
"Yes, I got an email from Pam. Instead of shipping you back home, they're going to come and stay here for a day or two and then you'll all go home together!"
Blaine could tell Helen was excited, his mom was her little sister after all, but Blaine had such a hard time picturing Michael and Pamela Anderson in this old peculiar house. They liked new things — new, modern, streamlined. His parents and Callaway Place seemed like different worlds.
"That will be fun," Blaine smiled. "How long has it been since you saw mom?"
"Oh, too long. Far too long. I don't travel much anymore, and once Pam left home, she never looked back."
He wondered what his mother thought of witches as ancestors and town gossip that the house was haunted. It was probably different when she lived here, though; a whole family living in a big old house was different from one solitary and admittedly tiny bit odd woman living here on her own.
"I wonder where the good china is? I haven't used it in years. I'll have to send Andrew to the third floor to find it."
Blaine was about to take a bite of delicious fruit crepe, but he dropped his fork and it clanged against his plate. The third floor?
"Everything all right?" Aunt Helen asked, daintily taking a bite of strawberry.
Blaine nodded, "Yes. Yeah." For a moment, he felt as though he should tell his aunt about the mirror, but the same arguments that kept him from mentioning it before came back. If she knew there was something different about the mirror upstairs, she wouldn't hold back trying to figure it out and Blaine knew, he just knew, there was something bad about that mirror. He didn't want his aunt to have anything to do with it.
"Maybe I could go up with Andrew when he looks for the china?" Blaine asked, hoping to sound casual. Someone had to keep an eye on the mirror.
"Oh, yes! You haven't seen the third floor yet. I'm sure he'd appreciate the help."
Blaine nodded and tried to ignore the knot in his stomach.
He went upstairs to his room after breakfast, looking at the mirror over the fireplace and calling Kurt's name. They always talked in the evening, but there was a chance he could be around now. He checked back again several times that day, but Kurt was never there. He should have told Kurt about that mirror long ago! He just really didn't like talking about it. He was able to enjoy the magic of the house because he resolutely did not think about the dark magic he knew was upstairs.
"Hey, Blaine." Andrew knocked on his door.
"Come in."
Andrew peeked his head around the old wooden door. "I'm heading upstairs to find Ms. Helen's china. Wanna come with?"
Blaine swallowed deeply, feeling scared. He didn't want to go up there, but at the same time he felt this urge to see the mirror again, and at least he wouldn't be alone this time. "Yeah. Sure."
They walked down the long hallway, stopping in front of Saffron's portrait as Andrew dug in his pocket for keys.
"What are you doing?" Baine asked.
"The door to the third floor is locked."
"No, it isn't." Blaine reached out for the knob, pulling, but the door didn't budge. He wiggled the handle, but Andrew was right, it was locked.
"Can I use the key now?" Andrew asked with a smirk.
Blaine nodded and stepped back, allowing Andrew to unlock and open the engraved door, reaching out to flip on a light. And oh, Blaine hadn't even tried that when he'd been here!
"Huh." Andrew flipped the switch a few more times, but no lights came on. He didn't seem bothered as he started up the stairs; Blaine closed his eyes and took a long calming breath before rushing up the stairs behind him.
They got to the big sparse room and Andrew tried another light switch. It didn't work either. "I'll have to look at the fuse box," Andrew mumbled to himself.
The drapes were still open from when Baine had been here, so there was some light. Andrew walked across the room with long strides, and Blaine hurried to keep up, his spine tingling just being up here. They passed the door to the room with the mirror in it. It was slightly ajar, but Andrew seemed to be heading for the door at the far end.
It was another large open room. It seemed like the whole of the third floor was just the three rooms. This room was plain, with white plaster walls and a few small windows. It was packed, though. More sheet-covered furniture and boxes piled on top of each other. If the china was in here, he didn't know how they were ever going to find it.
Andrew tried the light switch yet again, and when it didn't work, he opened the curtains over the windows along the walls. Light shined through, illuminating dancing dust particles floating around in the air and the many antiques crammed in this room.
"So, it's going to be in a trunk," Andrew said. "I guess we should start pulling sheets off things?"
Blaine just wanted to get out of here as quickly as he could, and he remembered having seen a trunk up here. "There's a trunk in that other room, the smaller one we passed?"
Andrew lifted an eyebrow. "Is there?"
"Yes, I saw it last time-" Blaine snapped his mouth shut, realizing too late he'd given himself away.
Andrew just smiled. "Listen, kid, I don't care if you've been up here. You're a twelve-year old boy and it's been a long summer. No wonder you've been exploring." He passed Blaine, ruffling his curls with a big callused hand, and made his way through the maze of boxes towards the door. "Come on."
Blaine trailed behind him, but stopped as they got to the entrance of the smaller room. Andrew walked in while Blaine stood in the doorway, eyes focused on the mirror, the sheet Blaine had pulled off of it still lying crumpled on the floor.
"You could at least have put the sheets back when you were done exploring," Andrew said, and he walked to the trunk. "Here we go." He knelt down and tried to open it.
"Um. It's locked," Blaine said from the door. "Do you have the key?"
"Nope." Andrew stood. "I bet Ms. Helen does. I'll go get it."
"I'll come with you!"
"Nope. You need to clean up your mess. Put those sheets back on everything, will you? I'll be right back."
"I…" Blaine watched Andrew leave, his throat going dry. "Crap."
He hurried to the mirror, scooping the sheet off the floor and throwing it over, wanting to get the mirror covered up before anything else. He didn't even want to look at it. Once the mirror was hidden by white cloth, Blaine felt a little better. He hurried to cover the rest of the furniture too, besides the trunk.
He turned from the desk and chair, ready to wait for Andrew in the main room, when his eyes landed on the mirror. He let out a little gasp – the sheet had fallen off of it. It stood there looking intimidating and grand, the metal frame an intricate pattern of twirling and looping vines, the glass clearer than any of the other old mirrors in the house. It made Blaine's spine tingle as it stood there like one big unblinking eye watching him.
"Oh, god." Blaine's hand was at his chest, and he could feel his heart pounding. Slowly, he walked to the mirror, picked up the sheet and very carefully covered it this time. He made sure not to touch the glass or even the frame, and backed away quickly when he was done. He didn't linger, he just rushed to the main room to wait for Andrew.
Andrew came back up in a few minutes, dangling a key in the air triumphantly, "Got it."
Blaine waited by the door as Andrew entered, but inhaled when he saw the sheet was on the floor once more. The mirror uncovered again. "Missed one." Andrew nodded at the mirror as he knelt to unlock the trunk.
"I... I didn't miss it, I swear. That sheet just won't stay on."
"Jackpot," Andrew said as he lifted the lid of the trunk. "Well, cover it again and then you can help me carry this down."
Blaine nodded bravely and walked back into the room. He picked up the sheet and threw it over the top of the mirror, ready to get away from here. He turned to Andrew, who put a cardboard box in his arms, and took a larger one for himself and then they, finally, thankfully, made their way downstairs.
Blaine let out a sigh of relief when Andrew locked the door to the third floor. This time, he really was never going up there again.
That afternoon, Blaine helped his aunt wash off all the old china and then spent the rest of the day at the beach, as far away from the third story as he could get.
August 2006 – Lima, Ohio
Burt was staying at the shop late, catching up on some bookkeeping. Kurt had offered to stay and help him, but Burt wouldn't hear of that and had sent him home with enough cash to order pizza for dinner.
Kurt sat on the swing on the back porch, chomping on pepperoni pizza and flipping through a new issue of Vogue. His mirror was next to him on the swing as he waited for Blaine.
"Hello?"
Kurt smiled and swallowed quickly. "Blaine! Hi. I'm here." He wiped his mouth with a paper towel. "You're early tonight." His heart bounced in his chest. He loved talking to Blaine. Just the sound of his voice made Kurt's insides do funny things.
"I really needed to talk to you."
"Okay, shoot. But just know I'm finishing up dinner, so sorry if I'm chewing while talking to you."
"Um… Well… I'm not sure where to start."
There was something troubling in Blaine's voice this evening, he didn't sound quite right. "Are you thinking about going home and us not talking anymore?" Kurt was, he thought about that all the time. It made his throat itch and his chest heavy.
"Well, actually, there's something I need to talk to you about, and I should have brought it up weeks ago."
"I'm listening." Kurt curled his legs up underneath him and got comfortable as the swing rocked softly back and forth.
"You know how you mentioned once that, um… that your mom taught you how to detect good and bad magic?"
"She called it light and dark magic, but yeah, same thing." There was a long pause, long enough that Kurt started getting nervous. "Blaine, is everything all right? You aren't in some kind of danger or something, are you?"
"Danger?" Blaine's voice came out of the glass high and scared. "What kind of danger?"
"I don't know! You're freaking me out here."
He heard Blaine sigh.
"Is it that portrait you mentioned once?" Kurt looked down at the mirror, wishing for the millionth time he could see Blaine. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. Please. I'll try to help."
"There's this mirror. On the third floor."
"Okay."
"And it isn't like the other mirrors in this house, it's… It makes me feel weird. I – it's actually really frightening. And once it, I don't know… It thudded? All the mirrors here make sound, but this one – it was like something big was knocking into it from the other side and then it just started shaking and I tried to leave the room, but the door wouldn't open. And can kids have heart attacks? Because I felt like I was going to have one."
"This happened today?" Kurt asked, his brow creased with concern. "Are you okay?"
"No, it happened a while ago, and I guess I didn't mention it because I really don't like talking about it."
"But you're all right?"
"Yes. The door finally came open and I ran out of there."
"Okay… Okay," Kurt nodded, thinking through what Blaine had said. It sounded intense. "I've never heard of anything like that, but there is this test to see if something has dark magic in it, and if it does, the object always rattles. It shakes."
"Yeah, I don't need a test to tell me that mirror is dark, Kurt, I can feel it. I was up there again today and-"
"Blaine don't do that!"
"What?"
"Don't go up there if there is dark magic!" Kurt's heart was in his throat. He didn't know a lot about dark magic, besides that you really shouldn't mess with it, and he couldn't stomach the idea of Blaine in danger.
"I went up with Andrew to find something for my aunt. But no one goes up there normally."
"Did it rattle again?"
"No, but I kept putting this sheet on it and it kept falling off. Which… as I say it out loud now doesn't sound that sinister... but... I don't know…"
Kurt chewed nervously on his lip. This was something out of his usual realm of knowledge, but he wanted to help Blaine, especially since he sounded shaken.
"Kurt, what should I do?"
"You... Maybe you shouldn't do anything? You're leaving in three days and it won't matter."
"But my aunt is still here!"
"Right." Kurt sighed. That was a problem. It was hard to give Blaine advice when he knew so little about the mirror in question. It had probably been there for years and no harm had come of it. At the same time, could he really advise Blaine to leave his aunt with something dark in her home?
"There are ways to destroy dark objects…" Kurt began slowly, "But the more magic there is in them, the harder it is. Also, the actual physical size makes it more difficult as well. The only object I ever had to destroy was a fountain pen."
"An evil fountain pen?" Blaine asked, and Kurt was glad to hear a little humor back in his voice. "What did it do, write dirty words?"
"Ha ha," Kurt said with a smile. "No, it didn't do much at all, but I performed the test and it had dark magic, and my mom taught me that meant we had to destroy it."
"But what does dark magic do?"
Kurt's cheeks flushed. He didn't want to admit he didn't actually know. "Well, some objects with light magic bring good luck, or a general feeling of happiness. I guess the dark ones could do the opposite?"
"You don't really know, do you, Kurt?" Blaine didn't sound upset, but he did sound disappointed, and Kurt hated that.
"I… I don't. I'm sorry."
Blaine was quiet, and Kurt started feeling nervous. "I know I make myself sound like an expert or something, but my mom died when I was young and my dad knows nothing about it… and I… I'm sorry Blaine."
"No. It's okay. I'm just thinking. If there is a chance that it could bring my aunt bad luck or make her have a general feeling of unhappiness – I have to get rid of it, don't I?"
Kurt really wanted to say no, to just leave it alone, but Blaine had a point. "Destroying dark magic is dangerous, Blaine."
"How?"
"My mom said people get hurt sometimes. The pen I destroyed, it was small and only had a little magic or my dad wouldn't have even let me try. The shaking and thudding and just the feeling you get from it make me think this mirror is something stronger."
"All the more reason to do it. I have to keep Aunt Helen safe."
"Blaine." Kurt couldn't help but smile a little as he ran the pad of his finger softly down the glass of his hand mirror, Blaine was brave and loyal and it hurt Kurt's chest to think of him in danger. "Listen. I don't think you should. Really. You wanted my advice? You said yourself no-one goes to the third floor. And it has probably been there for years, right? I honestly think you just… you just have to leave it, Blaine. I'm sorry."
"You won't tell me how to destroy it?"
"Blaine."
"I'm assuming it takes more than just smashing the thing?"
"Breaking a mirror brings bad luck."
"Really?"
Kurt shrugged. "I don't actually know if that's true or not."
Blaine sighed again.
Kurt rubbed his head, pizza cold and forgotten beside him as a headache started to come on. "If you really want the spell for destroying dark magic, I'll give it to you," Kurt whispered, hoping Blaine wouldn't want it and not knowing if Blaine would be able to work a spell anyway. Not everyone could. "Or, seeing as your aunt knows about magic, maybe you should just tell her."
"I can't, she'll try to mess with it and I don't want her to get hurt."
"Can't you see that's exactly what I'm saying to you?" Kurt pressed, "Don't mess with it, Blaine. Please." Kurt hated that his voice wobbled a little. He just couldn't stand the idea of Blaine doing something reckless and dangerous, but if he asked, Kurt would tell him how to destroy it. That had to be better than Blaine trying to destroy it blindly, right?
Blaine was quiet for a long time, but Kurt could hear him breathing.
"Okay," Blaine finally said.
"Okay?"
"Yeah, maybe you don't know everything about magic, but you know a lot more than I do, and if you say to leave it alone… I will."
Kurt leaned his head against the back of the swing and let out a breath of relief. "Thank you, Blaine."
"I leave in three days."
"I know. I've been counting down."
"Let's talk about something nice."
"Like what?" Kurt said with a smile, wanting to change the subject.
"I've got to read you part of this e-mail from my brother Cooper," Blaine said, and Kurt could hear the smile in his voice. "He's so weird."
Kurt smiled too, biting his lip as his heart fluttered. This was what he wanted, Blaine happy and safe. If there was a chance Kurt was going to lose contact with him soon, at least he knew Blaine was going to be all right.
Saying goodbye to Blaine three days later had been even harder than Kurt had expected. Yes, they'd only know each other a month and had never seen each other in person, but still, for the first time, Kurt felt like he had a best best friend. Someone he enjoyed, someone who got him, someone he cared about and trusted completely.
But Blaine had to go back home to… well, wherever he lived. And Kurt wasn't really expecting any mirror he brought with him to work away from his aunt's house. They planned on talking again next summer when Blaine came back to his aunt's, but a lot could happen in a year.
"You will come back, won't you?" Kurt asked their last evening together.
"Of course. I mean, I want to visit my Aunt anyway, so I'll come back. You just have to keep that mirror you have."
"I will."
"And wait for me. I don't know when I'll be back. In the summer."
"I'll wait."
"Don't… Don't forget about me." Blaine said softly.
"How could I forget about my first ever mirror friend?" Kurt smiled at his mirror and was pleased to hear a little laugh from Blaine.
"Same here."
They both lay in bed as they spoke and never actually did say the word 'goodbye' as they kept talking until they both drifted to sleep.
