“Thanks for telling that woman to leave me alone,” Kurt said, running his boot along a line in the carpet.

“You’re welcome.” Kurt looked up and saw Blaine watching him.

“So, is there anything I can do for you?” He started, unsure of how to approach the topic of Blaine’s reason for still being around.

“Nope, I’m good.” Blaine responded with a smile, turning back to look at the moon. 

Kurt stood, floored.  No one, is all of his years helping ghosts, had told him they didn’t want his help, “Excuse me?”

“Yes?” Blaine responded, his eyes twinkling with obvious amusement.

“There’s no family you want me to contact?  No beautiful girl who you were supposed to be engaged to?  No siblings I need to tell about your regrets?”

“They all died long ago.” Blaine said with a shrug.  He had obviously come to terms with him being here alone.

“Look Blaine, there’s a reason that you’re still here, so what is it?”

“I have no clue, you tell me.” Kurt stood baffled.  This was something new.  A ghost who was okay with just being a ghost, who didn’t want his help, who actually helped him, and seemed content to sit on his windowsill for the rest of eternity.

“Blaine, it’s not normal for you to still be here.  You’re supposed to move on, go into the light, I don’t know, the afterlife, heaven, whatever you believe.” Kurt felt like yelling in frustration.  How was he supposed to help him if he didn’t want help?

“What do you believe?” Kurt was caught so off guard by the question that he stumbled back onto his bed.

“Uhh, I guess I think you go somewhere really beautiful, where all your family is waiting for you.” Blaine nodded, seemingly contemplating his answer. “Blaine, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“When were you born?” Blaine looked at him, really studied Kurt before answering, “1802.” Kurt couldn’t hold in his gasp.  Sure he had met old ghosts, some hippies, a couple from the early 1900’s, but never had he met a ghost this old.

“Oh.” Was that really the best answer he could come up with?  This was something so new, so strange.  He knew that he should want to ask him what life had been like or how he died, but what he was really focused on was the fact that he didn’t deny that he had had a beautiful fiancé.  Of course Blaine was a straight guy, a perfect, charming straight boy with very nice abs.  Or so he assumed, since the shirt he wore really was quite thin.

Blaine didn’t seem too concerned with Kurt’s lack of response, but he did shift his body to face Kurt fully from the windowsill.  It was honestly a little nerve racking.  Blaine was looking directly at him, but Kurt couldn’t solve the look that he was giving him.  In order to break the silence, Kurt figured he had to say something.  Anything really.  Just words would do.  But nothing came to mind.  He could feel Blaine’s eyes on him, could see them if he looked up through his lashes.  What was he supposed to do?

“Uhh...” Kurt started, but Blaine beat him to it.

“Really Kurt, you don’t have to say anything.  I know that you don’t like talking to ghosts; it must be terribly unnerving for you.  If you’d like, I can leave you alone.”

“No!” Kurt shouted before he could stop himself, “I enjoy talking to you.”  Blaine quirked an eyebrow, a perfectly triangular shaped eyebrow, and Kurt wanted to bang his head against the wall.  He did not need Blaine thinking he had a crush on him.  He was dead, DEAD.  How many times did he need to tell himself before he stopped raking his eyes up and down his frame?

“I enjoy talking to you too.” Blaine started, “I haven’t spoken a true conversation with someone in over 200 years.  I’ve been sitting in this room watching family after family stay here.  I had no idea there were people out there who could see me.  Kurt, how are you able to see me?  Are there others like you?”

Kurt’s breath hitched at the way Blaine said his name, and he hoped that he didn’t catch it. “I was born with this ability to see and speak to spirits.  I have no idea why I was given this burden.  I’ve never met anyone like me before.” 

“Burden?”

“Can you imagine trying to be in class with ghosts trying to get your attention every ten seconds?” Kurt didn’t know why this was getting him so worked up.  Maybe it had to do with the fact that he had never in his entire life had someone to talk to about this, “It’s hard enough being a teenager, especially a gay teenager in Ohio, where everyone seems adamant to hate me, to shove me into lockers, to call me a freak, in front of my face no less, because behind my back would be too fucking nice.  I haven’t gotten a full night’s rest in years.  I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t woken up by a moan, or a scream, or something haunting my bedside.  Some kids have monsters under their bed; I have ghosts under mine, in my head, following me around, demanding me to do them favors.  You know, one time I told a family their grandpa was trying to send them a message, they called the cops on me!” 

Kurt could feel his anger bubbling over inside himself, but it all melted away when he felt himself being tugged into a pair of strong arms.  His face was buried into a soft shirt, and the smell of cinnamon and ash wood filling his senses.

“Shh, Kurt, it’ll be alright,” Blaine rubbed slow circles on his back, and Kurt found himself focusing on that rather than the hot tears leaking over his eyelids.  He always hated crying.  It made his eyes red and puffy and his voice higher than normal.  It was bad enough that his voice was naturally high.

“Kurt, listen to me, I will keep them away tonight.  You’re going to sleep okay?  A full night of no interruptions, no one yelling, just you and a wonderful dream.” Blaine was pulling the comforter back and laying him down.  Kurt was so tired that he didn’t even argue that he could ruin his skinny jeans while Blaine was tugging off his combat boots.  The last thing he felt before blackness overtook him were Blaine’s fingers stroking his hair.