Blaine was restricted to bed rest. This was his second night in the hospital, and he was convinced it'd be his last night. Although news was scarce where he was, word of a deadly influenza reached the asylum. Blaine was the first patient to contract it.

"You're sure you didn't give it to me?" Blaine said in the darkness.

He wasn't worried about people hearing him talking to himself, not anymore. Imagining people was the reason he was in the asylum, and he didn't see himself getting out in the near future.

"Have you ever heard of a sick angel, Blaine?" came a voice, half-joking, half-sad.

Blaine scooted over in his bed, making room. Suddenly, Kurt was at his side, placing his hand on the dip between Blaine's hip and rib bones. He was in white, like always, but it was different from the white of the asylum. Kurt's white was pure, while this place's white was empty.

"What happens to you when I die, Kurt?" Blaine asked, thumbing Kurt's jaw.

"If you die, Blaine," Kurt stressed.

"I'm really sick."

Kurt sighed, nodding, tucking his head into Blaine's neck. "I don't know what happens."

"What if the other side is worse than this?"

Blaine felt Kurt shake his head. "There's nothing worse than this."

"I'm scared," he breathed.

Kurt hugged Blaine tighter. "So am I."

"Remember the day we met?" Blaine asked abruptly, rubbing Kurt's back.

"Yes. The cause of this whole mess," Kurt muttered.

"Hey," Blaine said, pulling away to look at Kurt. "Not tonight. Not when this might be it. No remorse."

"Of course I remember the day we met. You were thirteen, working at the factory, and the conveyor belt almost took your arm off. But I swooped in – for lack of a better word – and pushed you away-"

"-tearing up your wings," Blaine finished, fingering through Kurt's large, half-featherless, brown wings.

"The crazy things us angels do," Kurt said, tracing his fingers down Blaine's arm, making him shiver.

"The crazy things us crazy people do," Blaine said back, softly. "If I die-"

"You won't."

Blaine ignored him by repeating, "If I die, I don't want you to wait for me."

"Wait for you?"

"Like you said before, you think we must have known each other in another life. Don't wait around for me to find my next life because what if it's far in the future? Where asylums are condemned and life is better."

"So, what? You want me to just meet you on the street? Charm and sweep you off your feet?"

Blaine laughed. "You have to court me first, of course."

"Flowers, films with sound, rides in automobiles... the whole nine yards for you, Blaine."

"And I can hold your hand in public without spiteful eyes," Blaine whispered, his lips against Kurt's forehead.

"I look forward to the future, and I promise to find you when we're both there."

"Don't stop loving me," Blaine breathed, having a hard time keeping sadness out of his words.

"I'll love you for a million years."

In Kurt's arms, like so many other nights, Blaine fell asleep. The next day confirmed his beliefs: he wasn't getting any better, and he wouldn't see another night. Dizzy with sickness, Blaine lay in bed, coughing up blood and seeing stars with every blink.

"How much longer, Doctor?" It was his mother; although he hadn't seen her in years, he knew her voice.

"I don't think he's going to last the night," the doctor answered.

"I heard the Influenza was spreading, but I never thought it'd reach here of all places." His father. Blaine had every right to resent the man, but he didn't. Not anymore. He was just grateful his parents made the long trip to see him. He'd die with them there – with Kurt.

Kurt was at his side, grasping his hand, trying his hardest not to sob. Blaine didn't want to look at him because looking at Kurt would break his heart and he wanted to die with Kurt's smile in mind, not his tears.

A harsh pain twisted his stomach, and he coughed up red. When he tried to breath, he couldn't.

In his last moments of consciousness, before the stars took over his eyes, Blaine heard Kurt whisper, "I'll see you again."

Then Kurt faded as Blaine faded.

"Promise," Kurt breathed.

Then white.

It was different than Kurt, than the asylum.

It was a new start.

On here, cloudysock asked: "What would happen if Kurt died? Does he have to became an angel? He would probably forget his former life. Also Blaine would be really busy being an angel, right?"

My answer: That's kind of up to interpretation. Here's what I think's gonna happen: Blaine's going to age with Kurt, and when Kurt's mom can't be his angel anymore, Blaine will take back over, and they'll die together (which is sad but, whatever, it happens). I guess the same thing's going to happen with Blaine's wings, but he won't lose them because that'd be counterproductive to my story since Kurt would forget their entire lives together. TOO MUCH ANGST! Anyhow, they've been doing this dance for centuries now - being each other's angel - so, in their next lives together, I'd hope they'd both be human. Then in the life after that, they can both be angels, and have the dynamic of Blaine and Santana. Maybe they can break the bonds with their humans and run away together. OMG, I can't. Well, okay, yes. That's what happened in my head.