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While The Sky Is Falling

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New York City, New York

April 23rd, 2014

8:49pm

"Yes, of course, Mr. Van de Sandt," Kurt rattled off into his headset as he rushed down the corridor toward his boss's office, dodging a few other employees and struggling to keep the latte in his right hand from spilling. "Absolutely. I'll have Ms. Wright send you the finished spread ASAP."

Ending the call, Kurt ducked through Isabel's office door, finding her amidst a chaotic sea of random splashes of color and fabric swatches, her hair slightly disheveled and her forehead deeply knotted.

Both he and Isabel were so hard at work that neither took any notice of the staggering view out of Isabel's office window. Here on the 41st floor, there was a practical ocean of light spread across the world beneath them — high-rises glowing against the backdrop of night, bridges spanning the Hudson in the distance, and traffic streaking through the streets far below.

"Van de Sandt's getting impatient," Kurt said, pressing the warm latte into her hand. "He wants the summer design samples by ten o'clock."

Isabel clamped her palm onto her forehead, groaning in exasperation. "Well, he won't get them by ten. But I think we can do it by four." She sniffed, taking a long sip from her latte. "Looks like we're in for a long night, Kurt."

Kurt nodded, disappointment settling in the pit of his stomach. He'd been hoping to Skype with Blaine when he got home, but it looked like that wouldn't be happening. "I'll text my roommates and let them know I won't be home."

"Make it quick," Isabel waved him off.

Quickly stepping back out into the hallway, Kurt pulled out his phone and typed out a text to Santana and Rachel telling them that just because he wouldn't be home, it didn't mean either of them had permission to touch the slice of cheesecake he'd been saving in the fridge. He then sent a second text to Blaine:

Sorry, I'm stuck at work all night… I'll make it up to you, promise ;)

He didn't wait for a reply before sticking his phone back into his pocket and returning to Isabel's office. He'd check his inbox later.

Lima, Ohio

8:52pm

Blaine smiled at the text from Kurt, sending a simple No problem Xoxo and dropping his phone back onto his desk, turning back to his calculus homework. As much as he'd been looking forward to Skyping with Kurt, it was cool that Kurt was living an adult life, where he could get stuck at work all night and have to play their Skype schedule by ear. It was nice to be a little bit unscheduled.

It was getting late, and the brightest light in Blaine's bedroom was the soft glow from his desk lamp. Little lights twinkled around the room behind him — his alarm clock, the indicator lights on his stereo and Playstation, the tiny winking green bulb on the smoke detector. His iPod, plugged into the stereo system, played Billy Joel softly in the background to help Blaine concentrate.

Concentration seemed to be out of reach so long as Cooper was home, however. There was a knock at the door and Cooper leaned in, making Blaine look up from his textbook. "Hey, Bee, you want to go get some pizza or something? I'm starving."

Blaine laughed. "What, is the kitchen not full enough for you?"

"Come on, I'm only in town for a couple days," Cooper grinned. "Spend some time with your big bro."

"I have homework to do."

"You're such a nerd. Come on. Pizza is calling!"

Blaine set his pencil down on his notebook, teasingly rolling his eyes. "Alright, alright, fine, I'm coming." He stood up, grabbing his jacket from his closet, and shoved his phone into his pocket.

"Well, if it's such a chore —"

Blaine lightly punched his brother in the arm, pushing him out of the way. "Shut up, Cooper. Let's go."

Lima, Ohio

8:54pm

Burt yawned, his fingers gently squeezing Carole's shoulder as she rested against him on their living room couch. They'd settled into a somewhat new tradition of watching old movies after dinner, which Burt enjoyed even though he was mostly sure it was because ever since Finn had passed Carole didn't seem to know what to do with herself in her free time. She was always the one to pick the movies since Burt didn't really care what they watched, and lately she'd been on an Audrey Hepburn kick. Tonight was Charade.

"You falling asleep?" Carole asked softly, her hand on his knee.

"I'm awake." Burt blinked a few times to wake himself up a little more. He wasn't anywhere near old enough to be falling asleep at this hour.

"Walter Matthau was so good-looking," Carole mused absentmindedly as Mr. Bartholomew questioned Audrey Hepburn's character onscreen.

"Yeah? Think I should gel and comb my hair like that?" Burt asked.

"If you had any hair to speak of."

"Hey!" Burt chuckled, nudging her. "I could at least grow the mustache."

Carole snorted. "Yeah, you do that."

On the television, Audrey Hepburn shook her head, scandalized. "Mr. Bartholomew, if you're trying to frighten me… you're doing a first-rate job!"

Burt jumped as an abrupt clicking noise rolled through the room and the television screen glitched and went black. The lamp by the couch and the light in the ceiling fan flickered and went out in the same instant.

Carole sat up in confusion. "What the hell was that?"

Burt sighed, unwinding his arm from around her to stand up. "I'll go check the circuit breakers."

Glancing out the window when he reached the kitchen, he saw that every house down the street, and even the streetlamps, had gone dark. "Looks like it wasn't just the circuits, Carole," Burt called over his shoulder, fumbling for the drawer where they kept the flashlights. "I think the whole town's out."

"Burt, my cell phone isn't turning on," Carole replied from the other room.

Finally pulling open the right drawer, Burt picked up a flashlight and clicked the On button, but the flashlight lay dead and useless in his hand. Frowning, Burt reached for the spare to no effect; even the spare was unusable. Carole stumbled into the room, nearly hitting the kitchen table in the shadows.

"Flashlights are dead," Burt said.

"Is your phone working?"

Burt fished the phone out of his pocket, pressing a few random buttons. The screen remained dark. "What the hell? I just charged it."

Carole made her way carefully to the front door, stepping out onto the porch to peer down the street. Burt followed suit, leaning over the porch railing to see a couple of cars that looked like they'd coasted to a stop in the middle of the road, their drivers standing confusedly next to them.

And far, far in the distance against the darkened sky, the lights of airplanes traveling miles away began to drop, falling like shooting stars.

"Burt," Carole hissed, grabbing his arm as the sound of a whistling, whining engine overhead. Burt's heart dropped into the pit of his stomach.

"Oh my God…"

A massive commercial jet careened through the air above their house, coming down far too fast as it passed. Its engine sputtered and growled and went quiet, one wing dipping too low and forcing the plane to veer downwards. It vanished over the tree line in the direction of downtown Lima. Burt's knuckles were white, gripping the porch railing, and Carole's fingers dug into his arm.

Seconds later, the sky burst into orange and red, the roar of the explosion deafening even from where they stood.

8:54pm

"Okay, Pizza Hut or Domino's?" Cooper asked as he steered the car towards the center of town.

"Ew to both," Blaine replied. "Can't we have good pizza?"

"Pizza Hut is good—"

Cooper didn't get to finish his sentence. Every single light on the car dashboard winked out at the same moment, the engine sputtering to a stop. Blaine flinched and seized the door handle as the car swerved; Cooper hissed through his teeth as he stomped on the brake. The foot brake did nothing to slow the car, and Cooper quickly yanked the emergency brake lever before they could crash into the cars parked by the sidewalk.

The next instant, they were hit from behind by another vehicle, the back of the car crunching as they skidded forward. Blaine's head slammed backwards against his seat, and the nose of their car plowed into a sedan parked at the curb. The hood crumpled like an aluminum can in a compactor. Blaine almost choked as his seat belt dug into his chest, and at last, they jerked to a final stop.

"What the hell just happened?" Cooper snapped, turning in his seat to look at the vehicle that had hit them. "God damn it!"

Blaine's eyes widened and he slapped Cooper's shoulder with the back of his hand. "Coop. Look."

Through the windshield, the two of them watched in stunned silence as traffic came to a screeching halt. Dozens of vehicles collided noisily with each other, and the lucky few that didn't crash coasted to a stop. Headlights and taillights winked out and streetlamps died one after the other. An eerie whine passed through the air, making Blaine's ears ring. The blackness swept over them in a wave and continued to spread through downtown Lima, an unseen tsunami, lights vanishing from windows and bars and storefronts. People on the sidewalk looked around in confusion or frustratedly punched numbers on their phones. A few drivers stepped out of their vehicles in bewilderment.

"Jesus…" Cooper breathed.

Blaine pushed his door open and got out of the car, hoping he'd see a police officer or, at the very least, someone who looked like they knew what was happening.

"Hey, Bee, is your phone working? Mine's not."

Digging his phone out of his pocket, Blaine tapped it a few times to no avail. He squinted at his watch, noticing that the second hand had stopped spinning. "No, and my watch stopped too."

"The hell is going on?" Cooper muttered, jiggling the key in the ignition.

Blaine's head snapped up as a scream echoed down the street from a couple blocks away, quickly followed by another, then another and another. People were beginning to run, all in the same direction — towards Blaine and Cooper. There was an odd whistling sound from above, and Blaine's gaze flew skywards.

An airplane was headed straight for them with a terrifying groan, its windows dark as it hurtled through the air in a freefall.

"Cooper!" Blaine yelled, but Cooper had already jumped out of the car and seized Blaine by the arm, dragging him away from the car. They bolted in the opposite direction, falling into step with the tide of screaming people rushing away from the falling jet. There was an awful metallic screech, and Blaine glanced over his shoulder as he ran, seeing briefly that one of the plane's wings had torn off halfway.

"Come on!" Cooper shouted, grabbing Blaine's wrist.

Blaine couldn't hear anything above the whistling wind and the screams surrounding him.

The roar of the wind was deafening, and Blaine suddenly felt the earth rock beneath his feet as the plane collided with the ground, crushing buildings and cars and people beneath it. A split second later, the plane's fuel tank exploded, and Blaine was thrown into the air.

8:54pm

Kurt was in the middle of helping Isabel choose whether teal or cyan was more fitting for July when the lights in the office flickered and went out, Isabel's computer whirring softly as it shut down unprompted. Isabel bolted upright. "That did not just happen," she said. "That did not just happen! We do not have time for this!"

Kurt's stomach twisted. That was easily four days' worth of work, gone. He only hoped Isabel had an external hard drive. At the very least, maybe with a power outage Mr. Van de Sandt might be more inclined to extend their deadline.

A strange, almost-inaudible whine rolled through the room like a passing mosquito, the windows shaking in their panes ever so slightly.

"Isabel," Kurt said softly, staring out the office window at the city spread out beneath them.

Lights were disappearing from every building, every street, every bridge… Traffic screeched to a halt and then vanished into the dark, headlights and street lamps winking out. Boats on the Hudson were lost to the blackness of the water, falling away into nothingness. The black spread in a massive tidal wave across Midtown, then Manhattan, and then the city beyond. Every borough, drowned in darkness.

"Whoa," Isabel breathed, standing beside Kurt with her jaw slack.

"Do we have flashlights?" Kurt asked. His fingertips had gone cold, his palms sweating.

"Just my iPhone," Isabel replied, already fiddling with it. "…But it's not working. Are you kidding me?!"

Kurt was about to try his own phone, but movement outside caught his eye, and he flinched back away from the window. "Oh my God."

A tourist helicopter that had been passing by was falling, spinning downward like a maple seed. The blades had stopped. It careened toward the ground so quickly, far too close to their building for comfort, that Kurt could hear it whistling through the glass. It vanished behind a building a couple of streets away, and half a second later a massive explosion lit up the block.

Isabel yelped and jumped back. "What the hell is happening?!" she shrieked.

The window panes rattled, the shockwave from the crash reaching them after a few seconds. There was a scream from down the hall in another office, and far off to the right another explosion burst somewhere near Central Park as another helicopter fell to the earth.

Kurt's heartbeat was thudding in his ears, his stomach twisted into knots. "I — I don't know."

8:55pm

At the Spotlight Diner, the darkness hit quickly. Rachel was halfway through taking a patron's order when the lights went out and the music playing over the loudspeakers went silent. A number of shouted expletives could be heard from the kitchen, where every single appliance had ceased to function, leaving half-cooked food to cool on the burners. Customers around the diner stopped eating, silverware clinking onto plates and mutters of dismay.

Outside, traffic came to a halt, a few vehicles rear-ending others in quick succession, headlights flickering for half a second before going dark. Streetlights winked out. Santana and Dani stepped out from behind the bar, watching through the window as the street beyond faded into shadow.

"What's going on?" Rachel asked, her notepad hanging by her side and her table forgotten. Her voice was hushed, directed at nobody in particular, heartbeat thudding in her ears.

Across the restaurant, customers stood, though they had no particular place to go. Some leaned closer to the window, trying to get a better view of the street, and some remained seated while still others meandered out onto the sidewalk to see if there was some explanation out amidst the halted traffic.

"Is anyone's phone working?" called a man from the corner booth.

A scattering of "No"s from every direction was his answer. Rachel pulled her phone from her apron pocket and found it refusing to turn on no matter how many times she pressed the home button.

"This is the weirdest blackout I've ever seen," Dani remarked after checking her own phone for a similar result. "Do you think the whole city was shut down?"

"No idea," Santana replied, peering through the glass at the front of the restaurant with her hands cupped around her eyes. "Looks like it, though. I don't see any light coming from anywhere else."

"I'm scared," Rachel admitted, wringing her hands and nervously smoothing her apron.

"It's just a blackout," said Santana, still leaning against the window. "New York's had them before."

Rachel shook her head. "Something just doesn't feel right. I don't—"

"GET DOWN!" Santana suddenly screamed, whipping around and running to grab Dani and Rachel. She dove to the ground, yanking the two of them down with her just as there was a huge roar from outside and the windows all shattered in the same instant, bursting inwards as a fireball erupted in the street outside. There was a cacophony of screams, coming from seemingly all directions, and thousands of tiny shards of glass rained down on them.

Somewhere to their left in the light of the explosion, Rachel saw a man hit the ground bleeding, his wife shrieking beside him.

Rachel's breath heaved, her hands shaking as she pushed herself back up, trying and failing to avoid the glass on the floor. "W-Was that a bomb?" She could barely hear herself speak over the ringing in her ears.

Santana shook her head, her eyes wide. "Helicopter."

8:57pm

Blaine coughed, spitting out dirt and pieces of gravel as he grabbed the sidewalk curb he'd landed beside, attempting to pull himself up. His ears felt blocked, a high-pitched whining the only thing he could hear. All he could smell was smoke and fuel and… blood. He could smell blood.

The pavement felt unstable beneath him, and he nearly fell sideways when he tried to stand. He ended up sitting on the curb, hoping the dizziness would subside. There were people still screaming and running around him, but they were all muted beneath the ringing in his ears. Everything seemed like it was moving in slow motion.

Blaine clenched his fists, trying to regain the feeling in his fingertips, and realized his hand was wet a moment before a stinging jolt shot up his arm. Looking down, he saw that nearly all the skin was gone from his right palm, the wound clogged with gravel and bleeding sluggishly. His left forearm down to his elbow was also scraped raw, the skin left with patches missing.

He blinked, trying to clear his head. He must have hit it; he couldn't think clearly.

Cooper.

Where was Cooper?

Swallowing the nausea building in his throat, Blaine pushed himself to his feet, bracing himself against the rear end of the nearest car. His hand left a bloody smear.

Blaine finally tried to actually look at the chaos surrounding him, his eyes searching for his brother's face. There were people running, cars tipped over, and the gargantuan body of the crashed plane lay ruptured and burning two blocks away in the town square. The towering flames were the only thing illuminating the town.

Bits of burning debris scattered across the pavement. The shadows of bodies.

"Cooper!" he screamed, his voice sounding muffled in his own head. He gritted his teeth and walked unsteadily into the road. "Cooper, where are you?!"

Staggering through the ruined cars and flaming pieces of wreckage littering the street, Blaine screamed his brother's name again and again.

He screamed until his voice echoed back.