“Do what?” the girl retorted. She refused to look at Blaine, instead keeping her eyes locked on the window.

“You know what I mean,” he said, trying to keep his voice as free of accusation as possible. Santana put up a tough front, sure, but would storm away if any conflict arose. And, as bitchy as she was, Blaine liked having her around

She had finally turned away from the window. “No, actually, I don’t. Care to enlighten me?” Her voice was positively dripping with sarcasm.

Blaine rolled his eyes. He couldn’t possibly believe how stubborn she was.

“You’re dead, Santana,” he hissed. So much for avoiding conflict. “You’re dead, and nothing is going to change that. She can’t even see you!”

“I know that!” she snapped. “You think I’m dumb, Anderson? You think I’m not reminded of that every single day?” She looked off to the side, and her voice softened slightly. “I just-I wanted to make sure that she still remembers me.”

“That she still loves you.”

“Yes, I-what?”

“You’re in love with her, aren’t you.” It was a statement, not a question, and certainly not one that Santana could counteract with her usual harsh snarky comment.

“W-what makes you say that?” Blaine snorted.

“Come on, San, the entire school knew.”

Santana Lopez had been a student at McKinley High, the school that Blaine currently attended. Despite her carefully cultivated reputation as the school slut, she had a near-perfect attendance record. Then, one day, she simply hadn’t gone to school. A day turned into a week, and two weeks after the initial day, a news report was released that there had been a shooting in her neighborhood. There had been many people injured, but Santana was the only one killed. The school held a ceremony in her honor, and Blaine found her the next day, not in front of her own house, but in front of her best friend Brittany’s. She hadn’t moved since.

“Yeah, well, not gonna do me much good now, is it?” she said bitterly.

Blaine bit his lip to refrain from saying anything else. “I never even got to…” Santana trailed off as her voice broke.

“I know,” Blaine said. “I’m sorry.” He reached out to pat her on the arm sympathetically. As his fingers came into contact with her shoulder, he felt a jolt of something like electricity shoot up his arm. Santana didn’t seem to notice when he jerked his arm back. She was still staring resolutely at the ground.

“You can leave now,” she whispered.

“Okay,” Blaine said, knowing it was time to give up. He turned away, and then added “See you tomorrow?” just to make sure. Santana just shrugged.

Heaving a sigh, Blaine walked away, his mind reeling. He knew, somewhere, beneath the quiet acceptance of his less-than-normal existence and the ache of loneliness, that he should be questioning why Santana hadn’t disappeared yet. Most of the other ghosts only stayed for three or four days, yet Santana had survived for almost a month in the living world. But he didn’t want her to leave. Not yet, anyways.

Sure, she was one of the best friends Blaine had ever had. She was that one-in-one-thousand spirit that he was absolutely positive he was going to miss. But there was another reason that he didn’t want her to leave.
After a week of her being gone from school, people had stopped guessing why she was gone. The rumors had stopped spreading, and the only time her name was mentioned was when a teacher called it in roll and was met with resounding silence. People had whispered all throughout the pitifully short ceremony that had been held in her honor at school, and the attendance at her funeral was even more pathetic.

She had been so alone in life, and Blaine simply didn’t want her to be in death.

His train of thought shattered. He heard Santana’s distinctive voice yelling “You again?!” followed by something that sounded horrifically close to a gunshot.

Blaine was running before he even gave his feet the command to move. Not a single rational through crossed his mind as he thudded over the pavement. All he could think was “Get to Santana, get to Santana.”

He rounded the corner, and without stopping to see what was going on, barreled into the person facing her, effectively knocking a small silver dagger out of their hand. The impact barely registered before he was forcefully thrown off, his head smashing into the ground.

He blacked out.