He laid asleep next to me, completely silent and beautiful as his chest rose and fell with every breath he took. My arms were wrapped around his small waist as I half watched him sleep and half tried to figure out what I-we, apparently-were going to do about Santana. God, I wish I could go back in time and chew her out for summoning a demon. I don't know what kind of fucking idiot would do so in the first place. Nothing, and I mean nothing is worth selling your soul to the devil.

There were only three days left, and I had no idea what to expect. Azazel had assigned this to me because, one, he's an ass, and two, Santana's father is a demon who would likely try to interfere, but so far he hadn't made an appearance. Maybe he wouldn't, but something was telling me that he was my only chance. No matter what happened, I was not going to let anything to get in the way of my promise to Blaine. I didn't even know what the status of our relationship was, and frankly it didn't matter; I loved him and was willing to do anything to keep him happy.

I leaned my chin down on his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his cheek, my eyes darting over to the scar on his neck. Fuck, I couldn't believe that asshole fed off him; which, come to think of it, was probably his idea all along. He knew by killing Blaine he'd be pushing me over the edge, causing me to want to turn off my emotions and humanity. I guess he assumed by doing that I'd end up finishing the job with Santana. No matter what happened, I had to keep my emotions intact. I couldn't lose control of my humanity I'd go off the deep end, and I know Blaine would hate me for it.

Blaine slowly began to wake up, turning his head sleepily to look at me. It was sort of awkward; neither of us had bothered to talk about us yet. Last night, after we'd said our I love you's, we made out for a little while until we needed to stop. Making out with Blaine was hard, mainly because of how amazing it makes me feel. It literally takes every single ounce of willpower I possess not to get carried away and just feed.

"Hi," he whispered groggily, sleep still thick in his voice. There was a soft, beautiful, smile on his face. Fuck, It was impossible to not want to kiss him until I couldn't breathe any longer.

"Morning, babe." The name rolled off my tongue and immediately stung. I hadn't called him that for days now, and the fact that I hadn't hurt like hell. "How'd you sleep?"

He blinked a few times in hesitation, as if there was something he wasn't telling me. "Okay," he finally answered, sighing softly and biting gently at his lip. For a moment, I toyed with the idea of reading his mind to get the real answer, but I decide against it. I couldn't violate him that way. I knew he was lying to me, but I felt as if it were better that I not press the matter.

"How about you?" he asked, his body pressing into mine slightly more.

I smiled at him softly and ran my fingers gently through his dark, slightly loosened, curls. I shrugged lightly before answering. "I didn't."

He raised an eyebrow at me curiously, as if not sleeping was a completely foreign concept to him. I almost laughed at that. Honestly, I couldn't remember the last time I got a good night's sleep. "Not at all?"

"No, but it's not a big deal. I slept for a better part of the eighties, so I guess I'm pretty well rested," I tried to joke, laughing awkwardly until I realized he wasn't; obviously, he didn't think it was funny. I guess he was still trying to get used to the whole thing. I can't imagine how hard it would be for someone if your boyfriend sprung something like that on you one day, nearly out of the blue.

He sighed and closed his eyes, looking out into the emptiness of the room. "You're a demon," he stated, more to himself than to me. It was like he was now realizing how real this whole situation was.

"Yeah, I am," I whispered, dropping my fingers from his tousled curls to his hip. My fingers moved in small circles and various other shapes as I moved them along his clothed skin. Laying here with him felt right, and I hadn't felt right in over fifty years. When I was with him, I felt normal for once.

"Are-are you evil?" he asked softly, closing his eyes as if the answer was going to jump out and viciously bite him.

"I've done some evil things," I admitted with a sorrowful sigh. "Evil things that I regret. Especially when I'm with you, I regret doing all of those bad things... because you deserve someone who doesn't do evil things, who's just as moral and amazing as you are." I nuzzled my nose into his neck for a moment, closing my eyes and pretending that I was just a normal teenager with his boyfriend. "But I'm not that person," I finished slowly, adding after a second, "But I don't think I'm completely evil... because if I were..." I trailed off, not wanting Blaine to ever know how evil some of the things out there really are.

"Don't talk like that," Blaine whispered after a moment, rolling himself over in my arms and looking me in the eyes. "Just... Don't. It hurts to hear you say things like that."

I nodded softly and pulled him towards me and further into my open arms. He curled himself into me a tiny bit before pressing a kiss to my chin so softly it almost tickled. "Even if you were evil, completely and totally evil, I'd still love you."

I smiled gently and pressed a kiss to his head, burying my face in his hair to hide the tears threatening to pour down my face.

-0-

Blaine and I had decided not to talk about the status of our relationship from then on. It was like a silent pact that we'd made together. No matter what we were feeling, there were other things that came first. Another day had gone by, and after wracking my brain and reading every single legitimate document or book I could find on demons, I had come to the conclusion that there was nothing that could be done. That's the thing about deals with demons, there's no way that you can break one. You get ten years, that's the deal. No more, no less, and you definitely don't get to get out of the whole thing altogether. It just doesn't happen.

Deals with demons are very sound things. If you think you fucked up on making it, then sorry about your bad luck, but you're screwed. There's no way of getting out of them unless you actually go to Lucifer himself, which is a lost cause. I mean, he is Lucifer after all. Of course, I didn't tell Blaine that there was nothing we could do, because still after knowing all that, I was determined to keep my promise to him.

Blaine had left my apartment the next day, only because if he didn't go home, his parents would probably freak out, especially if they realized he'd spent the night with another boy. I mean, even without the whole demon thing, I'm not exactly someone you want to bring home to your parents.

When he'd left, he'd leaned in and given me a small, chaste kiss. "I love you," he whispered, pressing his forehead against mine for a moment before pulling away. "Thank you for-"

"I love you too," I cut him off; I could tell by the way his eyes had dropped to the floor that he didn't want to say everything out loud. "I'll never stop loving you, I promise."

Blaine nodded and smiled sadly at me before leaving the apartment. I sighed and walked over to my mattress, flopping down on it and looking up to the ceiling. I was screwed. So fucking screwed. I closed my eyes and thought back to Blaine's dream; god, it couldn't be a premonition. It was clear to me now that it wasn't. I don't know how the hell he did it, or all the other shit he does, but Azazel had put that dream into Blaine's head... Not Quinn. Maybe Azazel had possessed someone Blaine had come into contact with that day... I don't know. But it made sense to me now. He was trying to scare me off. He must have known that I was on Santana's side and wanted to make it clear to me that if I didn't listen to him, do what he told me to do, that I'd suffer.

How the hell had I gotten into all this mess in the first place?

Oh right, because Azazel wants to get into my pants and I rejected him.

Shit.

Azazel. It hit me, like a bullet to my head, it hit me. Lucifer can break a demon's contract, and Azazel is Lucifer's son. If Azazel asked Lucifer to break a demon's contract, he would. I know he would. I don't know why it came to me like it did, but it did, and I knew what I had to do.

There was knock at my door, and for a moment I thought that it was Blaine again, and for once, I didn't want to see him. Not after what I'd just thought up. Slowly, I walked over to the door and opened it, thinking about not opening it the whole time, but I did. And it wasn't Blaine.

"Hello?" I said, my eyebrow quirking up a little. The man looked... familiar.

"You're Kurt Hummel," he said, his eyes narrowing in on me. "You're the crossroad assigned to making sure my daughter is sent to hell."

It was about time this guy showed up. "Yes, I am," I answered and opened the door a little more, then a lot more for him to come in. For an instant, he looked startled that I actually opened the door for him to come in. "Sort of."

"What do you mean by that?" Santana's father asked, walking into my tiny apartment.

I closed the door behind him and turned to look at him. "I am Kurt Hummel, and I am a crossroad... But I'm on Santana's side." He looked even more confused. I sighed and crossed my arms, taking a deep breath. "I have a plan."