"Guess who?"

Kurt rolls his eyes, currently covered by a pair of "mystery" hands. "Really, Blaine? You're really going take us to this level of sickeningly sweet?"

Blaine ignores him. "You guessed right! Now guess what?"

"Will you take your hands away if I do?"

"Maybe."

"What?" Kurt asks.

Blaine removes his hands and pulls his boyfriend away from his locker so he can peck him on the nose. "As of two minutes ago, you only have one week of high school left."

Kurt sighs heavily and presses his forehead down onto Blaine's shoulder. "Don't remind me," he mutters. "I never actually thought I'd be sad about leaving this place, but I don't want to leave Glee, and I really don't want to leave you."

Blaine's arms snake around Kurt's waist, deflating slightly "Hey," he breathes into Kurt's ear. "We have the whole summer to be together, and when September comes and you have to leave for New York, we'll deal. We can text all day and talk all night."

"It's not the same as being with you," Kurt whispers. He isn't sure where this is coming from, but for some reason it all just seems to be hitting him at once. "What if I want to hold you?"

"I'll move," Blaine offers. "We'll get some shoebox apartment and I'll do my senior year in New York. Rachel and Finn can have their little newlywed love nest, and we can have a place down the hall."

Kurt draws back sharply to stare at his boyfriend. "What?" he asks, astonished.

Blaine shrugs. "I'll be eighteen in October, but we might not even have to wait until then. I mean, I can't exactly see him trying to stop me."

Blaine spits out 'him' with such a venom that Kurt knows he can only be referring to his father, but for once he doesn't prod into Blaine's family issues, simply stares at his boyfriend in shock.

Blaine's expression starts to falter. "What's wrong?" he asks cautiously. "Do you, uh, do you not want me to move? I didn't mean to spring this on you like this, I just thought-"

"No, no," Kurt interrupts quickly. "I'm happy about this, it's just…we need to get to Glee. Can we talk about this later?"

Blaine nods, a hurt expression on his face. "Yeah, yeah, I'm just going to run to the locker room first. I left our duet music in there after gym."

"Okay," Kurt breathes, still stunned. "Yeah, you do that. I'll see you in the choir room."

Blaine nods again, but makes no move to leave, simply looking at Kurt with an expression bearing a strong resemblance to a kicked puppy.

Kurt sighs and reaches out to push one of Blaine's curls back into its place. "I'm happy, honey, I swear," he reassures. "How could I not want to live with you? We just need to work out some logistics first, okay?"

A smile creeps back onto his boyfriend's face. "I love you," he says, bouncing a little bit.

Kurt lets out an exhilarated laugh, and kicks Blaine playfully on the butt as he turns to leave. "I love you, too. Now go get our music or we're going to be late."

***

Kurt is going to kill Blaine.

"Twenty minutes late," he hisses to Rachel and Mercedes under his breath. "What could he possibly be doing?"

"Hush," Mercedes scolds, as Rachel elbows him sharply. "Pay attention."

Kurt rolls his eyes and looks back up at Quinn and Puck's palpably awkward duet. It would be thought that Mr. Shue would give them a break and let them sing whatever they wanted with whomever they wanted after winning Nationals, but apparently that wasn't the case.

No, instead the curly-headed, misguided teacher had decided that all the seniors would duet with someone they had been in a relationship with, to 'clear the air' before graduation. This, unfortunately, had led to Puck having to duet twice: once with the girl he had knocked up, and then again with the girl he had dated for about a week three years ago, only to boost his popularity.

Needless to say, none of the three are thrilled.

Thankfully, the song ends quickly and the two ex-lovers retreat to their respective seats to a chorus of snarky comments from Santana.

Mr. Shue turns around in his seat to face Kurt. "Kurt, is Blaine here today? You two are supposed to go next."

Kurt uncrosses his legs and jumps up. "He's supposed to be in the locker room getting our music, but that was ages ago. I'll go find him."

Mr. Shue nods his permission (as if Kurt was actually going to wait for) as the teenager struts out of the choir room to seek out his duet partner.

The hallways are empty by now, littered with papers, and the floors are sticky from the day's slushy rounds. Kurt steps quickly to avoid a puddle of blue raspberry as he bangs with an open palm on the door to the locker room. The school day may have ended, but some of the football players could still be in there, and they usually don't take kindly to Kurt "peeking".

"Blaine?" he calls. "Are you in here?"

When he doesn't receive answer, Kurt presses his ear against the door to listen for the bellowing tones that would indicate the presence of any lingering athletes.

"Blaine!" he shouts, listening closely. "If you don't get your butt out here, I'm confiscating your guitar! And you hair gel!"

Kurt frowns a little as an odd noise reached his ears, something between a choke and whine. He pushes open the door slowly to check, when-

BAM!

The door flies out and Kurt jumps back, shocked. A large figure darts out, something black and grey and red clutched in his hand, Kurt notes just as the other fist collides with his face.

Kurt flies back against the corner of the lockers, hitting his head and falling to the ground. "Ow!" he yells, raising himself up on his elbows and peering down the hall to identify his attacker.

"Dave!" he yells after his bully-turned-whatever, shocked, as he watches the football player turn a corner. "What the hell was that? Is that a knife?"

The panic hits him as soon as the word is out of his mouth, his brain having voiced the connection before his thought process caught up, and Kurt scrambles up, darting into the locker room.

"Blaine?" he screams frantically. "BLAINE!"

He spots him and falls to his knees before he can really even process what he's seeing. Blaine's blue polo is stained almost completely purple with blood, and his figure is slumped against the lockers. His breath is rattling and slow, and his eyes are closed.

"Blaine, honey," Kurt murmurs. "Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, come on, come on, please no." His hands flutter frantically above his boyfriend, not wanting to move him but needing to touch him, needing to let Blaine know he's here.

There is no way, it occurs to him, as he settles for holding Blaine's hand and barely feeling a pulse, no earthly way that an ambulance is going to get there in time. There is no way he is going to leave his boyfriend here to try and find a phone.

Sure enough, the rattling gasps are getting shallower and slower and soon enough they stop all together.

Barely two minutes have passed since Kurt left the choir room, and now Blaine is dead.

Blaine is dead.

Blaine is- Kurt collapses back onto the lockers and pulls Blaine with him, fisting at the curls that have come loose from their gel. Maybe from a struggle with Karofsky.

Blaine had been in a struggle with Karofsky. Blaine had been killed by Karofsky.

Blaine is dead.

Kurt takes a deep, shuddering breath, twirling his fingers into Blaine's hair to try and calm himself.

"It's okay, baby," he whispers, leaning down to kiss Blaine's nose. "I'm here."

It could have been years, and it could have been seconds, but at some point Mercedes' scream jolts Kurt from his thoughts.

"Oh my god!" she screams. "Oh my god!" Footsteps run back out the door, and in the distance he hears her screaming for Mr. Shuester.

Blaine's hair is much better to play with when it's loose like this, he decides. Maybe he would confiscate that gel after all.

"Kurt?"

A hand is on his shoulder. He ignores it, bending down to press another kiss to Blaine's temple.

The figure shifts slightly, its hand reaching out to grab Blaine's wrist. Kurt reaches out to slap it away, not breaking contact with his boyfriend.

"He's dead," he informs the figure. "We should probably tell somebody."

"I called 911," the figure says, something cracking in his tone. "Kurt, do you know what happened? Do you know who could have done this?"

Kurt rocks Blaine for a minute, considering the voice for a second before he begins to laugh. It is raw and unchecked, and the figure moves back. Kurt's not really much of a laugher.

"I warned you," Kurt giggles. He looks up to stare his teacher in the eye. "I warned you about him. He said he was going to kill me. No one believed he would, and now look! He's done something even worse!"

There is silence as Mr. Shue simply gapes at his student, lost for words.

Kurt spares his teacher a glance for a few seconds before going back to caring for his boyfriend. His eyes are closed. No need close them, like sometimes they do in the movies. He remembers how they used to be, swirling sometimes and shining sometimes. Their color was warm, just like Blaine was.

Was. The body is cooling now.

The body.

His boyfriend is a body.

Kurt strokes Blaine's hair.

"You need to let him be, Kurt," Mr. Shue says. "Come on. You've got a cut on your face. We need to get it cleared up."

"I think I'll stay here," Kurt asserts. "Someone needs to hold him."

"You're going into shock, Kurt," his teacher reasons. "You're shaking."

"That's okay."

Mr. Shue is silent for a moment before grabbing Kurt's shoulder, much firmer this time, and trying to tug him away.

"Get away from him, Kurt. The paramedics will be here soon. They'll take care of him."

"No," Kurt growls, pulling his shoulder away.

"Kurt, don't do this," Mr. Shue begins, taking a hold of his student's shoulder and pulling firmly again, but is quickly cut off by a shout.

"Leave us alone!" Kurt yells. "Shut up! Leave him alone!"

"I'm not going to hurt him, Kurt."

"Leave us alone!" Kurt curls his body around Blaine's as something inside him breaks. "Leave us alone, leave us alone, leave us alone, leave us alone!"

His throat starts to throb but he continues to scream, over and over, until the locker room door slams shut.

"It's okay, baby," he breathes into Blaine's shirt. "They can't touch us."

There are people again, some that Kurt recognizes and some that he doesn't. They know to stay back, though, so it's okay. Mr. Shue must have warned them.

They're talking sort of loud. Kurt buries his head deeper into Blaine, rocking him some more. He starts to hum.

Teenage Dream. He's humming Teenage Dream. He doesn't mean to, but it seems fitting.

"That's a good song."

He jolts, startled. He hadn't noticed anyone approach him, but looks up to see a woman sitting criss-cross-applesauce a few feet away. She's pretty, he notes absently, though that shade of pink lipstick is seriously washing out her skin tone.

She's a paramedic, he reasons. She must be to be so calm.

"I love Katy Perry," she continues. "What's your favorite song of hers?"

"That one," he responds, matching the calm in his tone to hers. "Blaine sings it to me in the car."

She nods intently, as if this tidbit is the most interesting thing in the world. "He has good taste," she notes. "I'm Carrie, Kurt. My partner Brent is over there. We're here to take you to the hospital."

"I'm not leaving him," Kurt snaps. "He needs someone to hold him."

"You need to go to the hospital, Kurt," Carrie insists. "Your cheek is bleeding, and there's blood on you in other places as well. We need to make sure it's not yours, and then we need to get you calmed down."

"I'm fine," Kurt retorts, looking away from Carrie so that he can thread his fingers through Blaine's hair once more. "He's still a little warm. When he cools down, I'll leave." He is impressed with his reasoning, but apparently Carrie is far from satisfied.

"No, Kurt, you're bleeding too hard and you're shaking," she informs him apologetically, and Kurt's flinches as he realizes how much she sounds like a mother. "The sooner we get you out of here, the better."

Kurt shakes his head. "No."

Carrie rises to her feet and walks over to Kurt, careful, he notes, to avoid the puddle of blood that surrounds the two boys. She reaches out carefully, as if Kurt is a stray dog in the park and she isn't sure if he's friendly or not yet, and takes a firm grip on Kurt's arm.

"Come on, Kurt," she coaxes, tugging lightly. "It's time to leave."

"No." He curls up like an armadillo around his boyfriend's torso, laying his ear on Blaine's chest to listen for a heartbeat that he knows isn't there. This gets more blood on his face, and the thought of their blood mixing makes him smile.

The hand is removed, and Kurt hears more whispering, and someone crying. It may be him, but he doesn't think so. Even for him, that's pretty high-pitched.

"Porcelain."

Kurt jumps at that voice, familiar and much louder than Carrie's previously hushed tones.

"Get up. They need to examine you and remove the body. Get off your boyfriend and let them do their jobs."

Sue's voice is casual and cold as usual, but Kurt notes the lack of insults. He clasps tighter in response, but strong hands come down, prying Kurt away from the body.

"Stop it!" he screams, trying to keep his position but failing miserably as she yanks him upright. "I need to stay with him!"

Carrie darts back to the pair to take Kurt's face in her hands. "Kurt, listen to me," she orders just as gently as before. "What if someone else stays with Blaine? If I stay with him, will you leave?"

Kurt tries to slow his gasping breaths enough to respond, but ends up coughing instead.

"Let him go, Sue," he hears Mr. Shue say from the background and she releases him, letting him fall to his knees beside Blaine once more. Carrie scoots next to him and watches intently as Kurt pulls Blaine's head back into his lap and strokes his hair.

After a long minute, the paramedic reaches over and gently nudges Kurt aside. Realizing what she is doing, he slides to the side and lets her take Blaine into her lap, mimicking Kurt's stroking and then turning to face the teen.

"I've got him now," she reassures. "I won't leave him. Okay?"

Kurt stares at her for a second before bending down and kissing Blaine once more. "Okay," he agrees.

He stands up slowly and stumbles, but as soon as he is upright he finds himself within the arms of his former cheer coach. As she hugs him, a low keening wail rises from his chest, and it finally occurs to him that, yes, he has been shaking this whole time, because he can feel it in his limbs and it's trying to rock him from the inside out.

Finally, sobbing into Sue's chest, Kurt leaves the locker room and doesn't look back.