Santana was sitting on the piano. Again.

Blaine followed closely behind Kurt (who didn't realize Blaine's presence) as he walked into the chorus room for Glee club rehearsal – Blaine's favorite part of Kurt's day.

"Polly-Pocket, sit here today," Santana said, pulling down her tight white dress.

Blaine chuckled, multitasking between getting to the piano and staring after Kurt.

"He just has to walk across the room. Focus on me now. Nothing's going to happen to the kid," Santana insisted.

"Just doing my job," Blaine said, climbing up beside his friend. "So, fill me in."

"Fill me in! I haven't seen my favorite pint-sized angel since Friday, and now it's Tuesday!"

Blaine watched Kurt sit alone in the corner. Remorse flooded over him, and it was like he was drowning in it. If Santana wasn't so intimidating, he'd be beside Kurt right now. Sometimes Blaine didn't understand how Santana was an angel, though her black wings gave her the opposite effect.

"Kurt's dad still isn't out of his coma," Blaine said softly, eyes never leaving Kurt.

"No! Seriously? Britt spend hours making him a card. 'Heart attacks are from loving too much,' it says," Santana said, her eyes on Brittany, who was in the pile of Glee clubbers staring Kurt down.

"Subject change?" Blaine pleaded. "This is my whole life right now and it's a bit morbid. Also, I have some news."

Santana pulled her gaze away from Brittany (she was such a hypocrite sometimes) and listened to Blaine intently.

"I showed myself to Kurt."

Santana waved him off, unimpressed. "Old news."

"No, new news! It was yesterday, and two other times."

"Rebel," Santana said in mock shock, waving at Brittany, who was looking their way. She sent Santana a tiny wave as well.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Maybe I'm not Santana Lopez: Rule Breaker Extraordinaire, but it's still a huge thing! We were eleven the last time I let Kurt see me."

Santana laughed, "I'm busting you, Blaine. What happened?"

Blaine shrugged. "Everything. Kurt and I have an understanding."

"Which is?" Santana probed on, eyes flickering to Brittany again. This was a tendency with angels.

"I don't hide from him."

Santana snorted. "You're hiding from him now."

Oh. Santana was right. But Kurt only wanted Blaine to appear when he called. Or...did he want Blaine to be around all the time? Kurt did look so alone. He caught Brittany and Santana looking at each other again. Should it be like that?

"I'll be back," Blaine said, jumping off the piano.

He made his way across the room, ignoring the various angels, who watched Blaine closely. They all must have heard about Kurt's father because all the other's angels being present never happened. Angels could phase out whenever they wanted to. And they usually always wanted to.

Blaine stole the seat behind Kurt. He leaned forward, his lips almost touching Kurt's ear.

"Kurt," he whispered.

Kurt jumped, of course. He glanced around stealthy.

"Are you fine?" Blaine continued.

Kurt pursed his lips, giving a quick nod. Blaine seemed satisfied with the answer because he pulled away and leaned back into the plastic chair. Blaine smiled at Santana, shrugging. She followed after him, sitting herself on the windowsill over Blaine.

"I swear, that Brad guy can see me," she confessed, kicking the back of Blaine's chair. "He needs to stop. I'm not alive enough for you, sweetheart."

Blaine snorted, despite himself.

Glee club that day turned out to be mortifying. Apparently, all the members prepared religious songs to inspire Kurt, but as Blaine watched his expressions during each – uncomfortable, as if enduring the numbers rather than enjoying them – he could tell Kurt was wishing he had skipped the rest of the week.

After the last song, Kurt couldn't handle it anymore. Blaine watched as Kurt got up and faced the room. After thanking them, he said, "I've prepared a number for the occasion."

"Spoiler alert: Ladyface is gonna sing now," Santana announced, taking Kurt's seat, but Blaine ignored her.

"On the day of my mom's funeral, when they were lowering her body into the ground, I was crying. I mean, that was it. It was the last time I was ever going to see her." Blaine remembered the day vividly. "I remember I looked up at my dad and I just wanted him to say something. Something to make me feel like my whole world wasn't over. And he just took my hand and squeezed it. Just knowing that those hands were there to take care of me, that was enough. This is for my dad."

Blaine felt hollow, and hoped on hope that Mr. Hummel would make it through this – for Kurt's sake.

Kurt sang that one Beatles song that constantly played on his iPod; Blaine remembered it because it always came up after a huge Broadway number. So, it was horribly out of place and stuck out in Blaine's mind. As Kurt sang, Blaine was having a hard time watching him fall apart. It only reminded him of the little broken boy crying for his mother to come back, and he thought of how cruel it was that he'd be doing the same not even ten years later for his father.

Then Kurt did that thing which made Blaine's insides jump. The first time it happened, they were young – long before Kurt's mother died. And even though Blaine and Kurt had an understanding, as he had told Santana, even though Kurt knew Blaine existed and that he was probably in the room somewhere, Blaine still shivered.

Kurt was staring directly into his eyes. Blaine knew that he was invisible, but couldn't shake the feeling that Kurt could actually see him.

That's why Blaine did something really stupid then (he had to stop calling it stupid, even though it was). He showed himself to Kurt.

Kurt, whose vision must have been distorted from the tears in his eyes, slapped them away and looked up. He did a few things at once: sang while gasping, jumped while standing still, and glared at Blaine while still managing to look sad. Blaine made a mental note to congratulate Kurt on his multitasking skills.

As the Glee Club huddled around Kurt for a group hug when the song ended, Kurt's eyes never left Blaine.

He didn't look pleased.

Kurt was nine the fourth time he saw Blaine.

It was in a dumpster.

Kurt was outside in the courtyard of McKinley Elementary, waiting for his father. He was late – again. Usually his mother got him from school, so Kurt supposed it was understandable.

It happened so fast; Kurt didn't even realize what was going on until it happened. One minute, the nine year old was sitting on the steps, craning his head towards the parking lot, and then the next minute he was being hoisted in the air.

"W-what are you doing?" Kurt gasped, squirming into the four or five sets of arms holding him up.

"I've been too nice to you lately, Princess, and my nice-ness is finally stopping today," Noah Puckerman, the boy that broke his wrist a year ago, said.

Then Kurt was getting tossed into the air. Kurt, bracing himself to feel pain, landed on his back on bags of plastic, full of soft material to cushion his fall. Kurt breathed a sigh of relief before tipping his head back to look past the dumpster doors, up to the sky.

"If only you were here, Mom, this wouldn't be happening," Kurt mumbled softly over the howling of laughter.

"You can't let them treat you like that, Kurt."

Kurt jumped, of course. He pressed his elbows into the garbage, peering over himself to see Blaine sitting beside his left leg.

"How do you suppose I do that? I'm almost as tiny as that Rachel girl that sings karaoke in the sand box at recess. That Quinn girl always kicks sand in her face or throw rocks at her head. I'm just as doomed!" Kurt said dramatically.

"Please," Blaine exclaimed, stretching out the word. "You're smarter than them. Today, Noah was teaming up with that Finn and that girl Brittany to figure out their five times tables, but realized they didn't have enough hands for 5X7."

"So?"

"So, you can be one step ahead of them all, if you just pay attention. Six boys laughing, staring at you like you're a helpless doe – you didn't find that suspicious?"

"Wait," Kurt said, finding the bottom of the dumpster to stand up, "you saw that and didn't warn me?"

"I couldn't though, Kurt," Blaine said, staring down into his lap.

Kurt huffed out an angry noise, scrambling to his feet.

"You have to stop coming around!" he said forcefully. "You're no help. You just sit there and tell me my problems. I know my problems, Blaine, and you not helping just means you're not helping."

"That doesn't make sen-"

"I'm no more alone than when you show up, so I don't need you."

Kurt stomped to the edge of the dumpster, grabbing hold of the rim. He pulled up, his shoes sliding against the green metal, making it hard for him to get out.

He half expected Blaine to hoist him up, so when he said, "Really, Blaine?" and turned his head to find himself just as alone as he said he was. The sight shook him. Kurt lost his grip and fell back into the sea of bags.

Two things could have happened: first, Blaine was never there, and Kurt was going insane. Second, Blaine disappeared on command, like a ghost. The day was mildly hot, but that didn't stop the rows of goosebumps from raising across Kurt's body.

After Glee, Kurt stormed home, pissed. He waited till the perfect moment to blow.

"What the hell, Blaine?" Kurt exclaimed, snapping his bedroom door shut. "You have ten seconds to show up, or I'm throwing you a going away exorcism."

Suddenly, a white ball of light appeared in front of Kurt. Angrily, Kurt swatted at it, like a cat. Within the second, Blaine was fully materialized. His face was slightly shocked.

"You hit me," he gasped, extending his arms to look for cuts, or bruises, or whatever scratches angels got. "And I'm an angel, not possessed by-"

"New rule!" Kurt huffed. "You're not allowed to be invisible anymore."

"But-"

Kurt, whose eyes were glowing with anger, shook his head, turning. He threw his bag down, hard; it bounced on the bed.

"I am the only one who can see you, Blaine. It's not okay for you to just show up!"

"But I thought that's what you wanted," Blaine retorted, pulling back slightly.

"That white light? Where was it in the chorus room? Twice! Those two times you came."

"I forgot..."

Kurt rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. Kurt was always mad at Blaine, Blaine decided. He could never do anything right.

"Well, yeah," Kurt said, shuffling passed Blaine. "Like, what do you even do? Sit around watching me all day?"

"Kind of," Blaine said sheepishly. Kurt groaned, pulling open his dresser drawers. "I mean, it doesn't really phase me. All my days just meld together."

"That's a sad life. I know myself; I'm not that interesting. I'm sorry you had to watch over me," Kurt replied, not sounded actually sympathetic.

"Don't be sorry."

Sighing, Kurt asked, "Don't you ever get tired of it? Of me?"

"No."

Kurt hugged his clothes against his chest as he slowly turned to face Blaine.

"Don't you wish you had your own life?"

"I do."

"You don't. You just exist in mine. Don't you ever get happy or sad or feel anything?"

Blaine thought for a second, pacing backwards towards Kurt's bed, which he sat on. He racked his brain for a time he actually felt something.

"When you're sad-"

"No. No, let's focus on you for one minute," Kurt fought.

"I am," Blaine said. "When you're sad, I'm sad."

"Well, you must be sad a lot."

Blaine focused intently on his shoes, also white. "Too much. That's why I keep showing myself to you. Because, I'm also happiest when you're happy."

Kurt stared at Blaine for a good second, really searching his face.

Oh.

"Just promise me you won't disappear?" Kurt requested, looking away and walking towards the door.

"You're not going to feel weird with me always being around?" Blaine asked, walking after him.

"I guess not, no," Kurt said, walking down the hall. As he got to the bathroom door, he stopped. "Wait..."

Blaine stopped too, looking questioningly at him.

"You're following me," Kurt stated.

"I thought we established this."

"No," Kurt stressed. "I'm going to take a shower, Blaine."

"Um?" Blaine said, not really understanding Kurt.

"Do you normally watch? What do you do? Sit on the tub floor?"

Blaine gaped slightly. "No! I'm usually on the sink, listening to you sing."

"And not once have you ever peeked?" Kurt questioned, his cheeks flushing.

"I mean, you come out of the shower..."

"BLAINE!" Kurt gasped, bringing his forehead to the floor frame.

"Seriously, it's nothing," Blaine protested.

"No, you sit out here from now on. No more free shows for you," Kurt said, pushing Blaine away and slamming the door.

Teaser for Next Chapter:

"That's so...sad, Blaine. You mean, you can't ever... You won't ever..."

"I can't fall in love," he said, unphased.