Blaine woke the next morning with a throbbing headache and a painful creak in his neck. He sat up and took stock of where he was, sitting on the floor of his music room. Blaine rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand before raking his fingers through his hair.

What the hell had happened to him last night? He leaned against the wall and looked around the room. Nothing seemed abnormal or out of place. Was he going crazy? The things he'd seen last night... he knows he didn't dream it, it was far too real, plus here he was in the music room and not in his bed. That meant it hadn't been a dream. Right?

Blaine groaned and got to his feet, dragging himself to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and tested the temperature before stripping off his clothes and standing beneath the warm stream of water.

He felt a little sick, images from last night playing in his head. Sebastian and the gun... Kurt's terrified pleas, his face contorted in fear. Blaine turned up the heat until the water stung his skin, but he couldn't wash the memories away. If it was a dream there was something seriously wrong with him. Why would he dream that?

Jame's words from yesterday came back to him.

"It was a murder suicide. Apparently pretty brutal too."

Blaine shivered even as the hot water ran down his skin. He had to go back to the coffee shop. Maybe James could tell him more, maybe he could figure out what was going on. Maybe he really had seen something. Blaine couldn't decided if he wanted what he saw to be real, because that was terrifying, or a dream, because that was frightening too.

Blaine quickly finished his shower, dried off and ran to his room pulling on the first shoes, pants and shirt his hands landed on, before racing down the stairs and out the door. He hadn't even bothered doing his hair. Blaine reached "Sugar & Spice" in record time, wrenching the door open, the little bell chiming pleasantly as Blaine scanned the front counter. James was there just finishing up with a customer.

Blaine tried to look calm as he strode up to the counter, "Thank goodness you're here", he said as James looked at him.

James smiled, "I usually have the morning shift..." he trailed off as he took in Blaine's appearance and strained expression. "You really need your coffee, huh?"

"Um... actually I need to talk to you."

"Sure."

"Privately?" Blaine asked glancing around at the other customers in the shop.

"Oh. Okay." James nodded towards the door leading to the back room. Once they had shut the door behind them Blaine sagged against a wall, nervously rubbing a hand down up and down his arm. "I needed to talk to you about what you said yesterday."

James just looked at him and frowned.

"About the... the murder suicide?", Blaine clarified.

"Yeah listen, sorry about that. I hope it didn't freak you out or anything."

"No. It. I..." Blaine took a deep breath and started again, "Could you just tell me more about it? What do you know?"

James shrugged, "Not much. I mean you hear stories, but I think a lot of the details have been made up and dramatized. I know it was two guys. Some people say newlyweds, but I don't know about that."

Two guys. Okay, that much was right. "Do you know how they died?"

"One guy killed the other I guess, and then blew his own brains out."

Blaine was really feeling nauseous now. He rubbed his hands down his face. "Right." he whispered, "And, uh when did this happen?"

"Blaine, you don't look so great? Are you sure your okay? I mean... pardon the expression, but you look like you've seen a ghost."

Blaine let out a hollow laugh.

"It's just stories you know. There aren't any ghost in your house." James continued.

"Yeah. Of course.", Blaine said. "But there was a murder suicide, right? I was just wondering when?"

James glanced up, thinking, "Well, it was my freshman year of Highschool. In the fall sometime, or before the Holidays? I'm not sure. But it was five years ago now."

Blaine stood back up from the wall and tried to smile. "Great. Thanks James.", he said and started to walkout of the room.

"Of course." James said following him, "Anytime. Did you want a coffee or anything?"

Blaine had reached the front door by then and turned, doing his best to give James a genuine smile of gratitude, "Not this morning, thanks!" and then he left the shop.

A couple hours latter found Blaine sitting in the big downtown public library. After leaving "Sugar & Spice" Blaine had rushed home, only to jump in his car and drive downtown. After talking a little with the sweet librarian at front she'd shown him to the newspaper archive and he'd dug into microfiches from 5 years ago.

After going through months of newspaper articles he finally found one about a murder suicide of a newly married gay couple dated December of 2014. It didn't list his address or any thing, but he knew he'd found the right story because of the two small pictures at the top.

The first picture was of Sebastian Smythe. Blaine couldn't look at his smirking face for very long without feeling queasy. Even in black and white it seemed like Sebastian was staring at Blaine, and he could easily remember the cold green eyes from the night before.

Blaine scrolled down to see the picture of Kurt Hummel-Smythe. Even in the grainy newspaper picture, Kurt was lovely. Perfectly styled hair, sparkling eyes and an adorable grin. Blaine found himself smiling at the picture, a pleasant swooping feeling in his stomach until he remembered Kurt' still, dead body laying on the bed and the feeling turned sour.

That was it then. Kurt and Sebastian had been real people, there was no way he dreamed it up. So that meant... Blaine didn't like to think of what that meant.

Blaine got the nice librarian to help him make copies of all the articles having to do with Sebastian and Kurt, she even gave him a folder to carry them neatly home in.

Blaine decided he needed to do something other than think about what happened last night, so he went grocery shopping, picked up dinner and spent the evening playing his music far too loud and finishing up his unpaking. Well besides the music room, he let those boxes be, he didn't really fell like spending time in there.

Blaine knew that a normal person would be out of that house, not settling in, but Blaine felt like he just couldn't leave. By time Blaine crawled into bed and pulled the covers up he felt spent. Not only from the long day, but from the past two nights of interrupted sleep. Despite this, he still couldn't fall asleep.

Now that he wasn't busy he could only think about what happened last night. His mind swirling with images and sounds and with the words he'd read in the articles today. Things like, "ballistic trauma" and "asphyxiation". Blaine tried to distract himself, by planning a good time for Wes to visit, or composing songs in his head, but it didn't matter he couldn't sleep.

After a few hours of not sleeping Blaine started hearing noises in the house. The kind of noises that are hard to pinpoint, but tell you that you aren't alone. Blaine glanced to his bedroom door, wishing he'd locked it, but there was no way he was leaving the safety of his covers to do that now.

The noises grew louder and more defined. Creaks and sighs and moans, that could have been the wind outside or the tree against his window. But Blaine knew it wasn't.

Then Blaine heard voices, muffled at fist and then growing louder, clearly coming from down the hall.

"Please. Sebastian please!"

"Shut up!"

"I didn't please."

"I love you."

Blaine buried his head beneath his pillows, trying to block out the angry words and the heart-wrenching cries. But he could still hear them. And the continued rhythmic creaking of the bed, which strained on Blaine's sanity. he started humming to himself to block everything out... but then it seemed to get quite again.

Blaine lifted his head from under his pillows. No yelling, no creaking, no sounds. Maybe it was over, Maybe-

BANG!

The loud gunshot rang through the house. Blaine jumped, nearly falling out of bed and let out a shriek of fear.

Now it was over.

Blaine laid in bed for hours, heart rate fast and mind awake until his alarm clock when off the next morning.

Blaine was stiff and slow as he got up out of bed. He walked to his closet to pick out something to wear for the day, but didn't have the energy to make that decision. Instead he lumbered downstairs in his PJs, rubbing his face and wishing he knew what the hell he was going to do.

He stomach growled so he went to the kitchen and poured himself a bowl of Cheerios. He leaned against the counter as he ate his breakfast, wondering how long it would take him to pack up all his stuff again.

His glanced up from his bowl and sucked in a quick breath, his bowl and spoon hitting the ground as he pressed his back hard against the counter.

Kurt was standing in his kitchen watching him.

"Sorry! Sorry." Kurt said in a panicked voice, "I didn't mean, I wasn't trying to..."

Kurt took a step forward and Blaine's heart leap into his throat, and a made a choked of noise of protest.

Kurt stopped and looked at him with wide eyes, "Sorry." he whispered. "I really don't want to scare you. I am so sorry."

Blaine didn't answer, Kurt reached his hands out and little, they hovered in the air uselessly as he looked down at the broken bowl and the spilled Cheerios as if he want to clean up the mess, but in the end he dropped his hands and looked back at Blaine.

"I'm not going to hurt you." he said calmly.

Blaine gulped and tried to find something to say, but still nothing would come out.

Kurt ran his hand down his face before rubbing both of his palms nervously down the front of his tight, dark jeans. Then he reached one hand out towards Blaine.

"Hi.", He said with a nervous smile, "I am Kurt Hummel."

Blaine stared at his hand for a moment and then made a small move forward, when there was a knock on the front door.

Kurt dropped his hand as both he and Blaine glanced towards the front of the house. When Blaine looked back to where Kurt had been standing, he was gone.