Title: Yesterday Threw Everything At Me
Author: Kashfaberry (a co-authoring venture between berrywarbler and Claddagh Ring)

Disclaimer: We do not own Glee.

a/n: Timewise, this is post-Regionals, pre-wedding, no Quinn accident or Karofsky attempt at suicide. There is, however, smut and death. Enjoy!

Rachel was surely losing her mind.

It had only been two weeks since the horrible accident, the one that took Blaine-and his older brother Cooper's-lives, the one that ripped him out of her world faster than anything else ever could have. It was startling and quick and all of a sudden every moment seemed so much more mortal, as if she too would die at any moment. A concussion from hitting her head on a locker, falling down the staircase from exhaustion and lack of sleep, getting into a car accident of her own. Morbid thoughts flitted through every day, her tears blurring the images of Kurt, of Finn, of all the other people who were still present in New Directions.

Kurt had dragged her to the hospital as soon as they got the call, Rachel still in a wedding dress she had been getting fitted, but it was already too late, too much damage done, Blaine on his very last moments of consciousness when they arrived. She'd held his hand, limp and cold in her own as Kurt begged and screamed for someone to stop this from happening, for someone to fix Blaine.

In the end, they couldn't, and three days later Rachel held onto a sobbing Kurt as they said their goodbyes to a boy who had been taken too soon, too young, too quickly for anyone to cope.

That didn't explain why she saw him sitting in the back of the choir room when she walked in one afternoon, the same red cardigan he had once worn to her one and only high school party and a small smile on his face in her direction.

She ignored it, pushed it out of her mind with the thought of exhaustion and stress and mourning, tuning Mr. Schuester out as he tried to give them a pep talk about Nationals, something even Rachel wasn't looking forward to anymore. Her eyes would travel to the spot behind her every so often, the expression on Blaine's face changing from pleased to confused to vaguely terrified before it disappeared completely, one minute there and the next gone. Rachel reminded herself that he hadn't been there in the first place, that her mind was playing tricks on her, and by the time Mr. Schuester let them out for the afternoon she had convinced herself she just needed to lay down, to sleep the night away so that it wouldn't happen again.

-:-

Blaine didn't pretend to understand it.

He had been in the car, fighting amicably with Cooper over which radio station to listen to and the next thing he knew, he was standing under an oak tree in a cemetery watching his own funeral. His parents huddled around his brothers casket and his mother tearfully pleaded for him to come back, to bring Blaine with him, to come home but as she did, Blaine knew Cooper was long gone. He had never once in his life done anything halfway, and his afterlife – because apparently there was such a thing – would not be any different. Blaine on the other hand had always been a bit more hesitant and it seemed his curse in life had been carried over in his death.

Being dead, by comparison, wasn't nearly as surreal as seeing his friends mourn for him. Even people he didn't know and had never spoken to were dressed in black and carrying flowers, but his eyes lost all focus for them when saw the glee club at the front of the line, creating a kind of protective half circle around his coffin as if they were trying to keep him in their little world just a little while longer. Right in the center of it, dressed to the nines, was Kurt. The pain and devastation etched into his face mirrored those around him as he sobbed openly having collapsed in Rachel's arms.

She stood silent, her embrace strong and steady for Kurt's sake, her expression stoic. She didn't cry. She barely blinked. She looked broken and her whispered "goodbye" carried on the wind to pierce his heart in a way not even his parent's grief or Kurt's shattered cries did. Their reactions were like a thousand incredibly agonizing punches to the gut, but they were almost expected in a way. It was normal, as far as the circumstances went but Rachel's response frightened him in a way he couldn't really explain. She wasn't supposed to look like her world ended; she still had her impending marriage to Finn and her shiny new life in New York to look forward to. Instead she was shutting down before his very eyes and no one but him seemed to notice and he was the last person who could do anything about it.

He convinced himself that this was the reason he stuck around, because she needed someone to look out for her and he needed to know that she would eventually be all right. There was a sense of guilt he carried around as he watched her, knowing that he should have been more worried about Kurt, but at least he was properly grieving. He was an emotional wreck, breaking into tears at a moment's notice, but he didn't bother to hide it. He had his family to cry to, including Finn while Rachel just pulled away from everyone. And he still hadn't seen her cry. He told himself that if she would just cry, he would stop worrying over her so much.

She seemed more like herself in the choir room than anywhere else. It wasn't a complete reform; she often sat in her chair and participated in Mr. Schuester's lessons only when necessary. She didn't present any solos, barely sang at all, but she seemed a little more put together whenever she left the room, even if it would disappear by the time he saw her again the next day. Still, it made him smile in relief every day she showed up for glee, unaware that his eyes followed her every step of the way.

Until the day she looked back at him.

It was impossible, he told himself, an illusion, his subconscious playing tricks on him. No one could see him, not even Kurt who he often checked on between periods. He didn't exist anywhere except their memories, but that didn't stop Rachel from turning in her seat, staring at him. Not towards him, but at him; catching his eye and holding his gaze for mere seconds that seemed to span millennia and for the first time since he died, he began to panic. He might have stopped breathing if he still did such a thing because this... this changed everything.

-:-

It happened more and more often, Blaine appearing in doorways while she was in classes, standing by her locker until she approached it, but she never got close enough to actually touch him, to talk to him, to ask him what was happening. She reprimanded herself internally every time she thought like that, yelling at herself about how he wasn't there, that she'd never get to touch or talk to him again. And as strong as she was trying to be about this, trying to hold herself together for Kurt's sake while he collapsed inwardly, remembering that she'd never hear him call her 'Maria' again or feel the warmth from his hand as he placed it gently on her back drove her to tears, Rachel pushing through the busy hallways until she reached a bathroom, crying alone in a stall until someone came to retrieve her.

It was usually Quinn, silently leading her back to class with a comforting word or two, her own eyes bloodshot from tears that she managed to keep inside during school hours. Quinn never asked why Rachel hid away to sob about Blaine, why she wasn't just holding onto Kurt and using him for emotional support so that they could work through it together, and for that Rachel was grateful.

Mourning for your friend who died was acceptable, mourning for your best friends boyfriend that you loved was not.

For two weeks Rachel let it happen, not mentioning it to anyone and just staring, becoming more and more silent herself. The fact that he seemed almost solid scared her, as if she could just reach out and touch him if only she got close enough, and as the end of her relationship with Finn came to a head, she realized she wanted to test the limits, see if he was real, see if he could hold her like he would have had he been alive.

The fact that she would have been going through with a wedding far too young in life had Blaine still been alive went unsaid.

She finally broke one day after glee, Kurt stuffing books he wasn't going to look at in his bag as they stood by their lockers, Blaine a few feet behind them and Rachel's eyes once more glued to his. "Kurt, can I ask you something?" she said quietly, Kurt barely nodding in response. She didn't know how to word 'are you seeing your dead boyfriend all over the place' without further hurting him, so she merely turned him by the shoulders so that he'd have to see Blaine, have to have some sort of reaction that confirmed or denied Blaine's existence.

"Why are you facing me down an empty hallway?" Kurt asked, voice tired and weary and broken and she could see the panic on Blaine's face even as she let the words fall from her lips.

"You don't see him?" she asked, her own voice cracking with the realization that she was alone, that she was losing her mind, that she was going crazy before she could even make it out of Ohio.

"Him?" Kurt repeated, and when Rachel answered with Blaine's name, the boy in question shaking his head adamantly, Kurt merely looked at Rachel as if she had died as well. "No, Rachel, because Blaine is dead."

He said nothing more as he turned to leave her standing alone at his locker, her hand over her heart as she tried to stop the influx of tears that fell, her breathing nearly stopped completely as she doubled over in hysterical sobs.

-:-

It might have been because he was being purposely careless by putting himself in her path, or that she appeared to be looking for him in her own way, but with every stolen glance they shared, he was becoming absolutely convinced that Rachel could see him. He was often torn between wanting to sweep her up in his arms and running away whenever she got too close. Every time though, he ran away and hid around a corner to watch her shake her head, trying to shake him off.

She started disappearing into the restroom more often, for entire class periods even, and it wasn't until Quinn began escorting Rachel through the halls with her arms wrapped tightly around Rachel's shoulders that Blaine realized she hadn't been sick like he suspected, but she had finally started crying. Now that she had, she didn't seem to be able to stop. All of the relief and peace he'd expected to feel dropped to the pit of this stomach, churning and boiling, revolting against him. This was somehow even worse than watching her shut down. Watching Kurt cry was hard enough, but Rachel's tears broke something down inside of him, bringing out the one thing he couldn't even face when he was alive.

It wasn't fair. He shouldn't be punished for something so far out of his control. When you died, these things were supposed to go away. People you loved, they just knew and they accepted it as your parting gift, but how could she know something he'd never been able to figure out for himself. And how was he supposed to figure it out now, and why would it matter if he did. She still had a life to live and even if he could actually speak to her and tell her, it wouldn't be fair. She would have to live with whatever the outcome came to be and he wouldn't have anything to do with her anymore.

But as he watched her cancel her wedding to Finn, despite his protests that they could just postpone, and then ultimately end her entire relationship, Blaine knew that wouldn't be enough. It only seemed to make him gravitate towards her again, more than he ever had before.

He knew without a doubt that Kurt wouldn't be able to see him even as she asked him. There was nothing he needed from Kurt, not the way he needed Rachel. It was a betrayal as awful as it sounded, but his soul didn't ache when he looked at Kurt, not like it did when he looked at Rachel. She was what was weighing him down to this world and he couldn't just give her up any easier than he had during his life, which really was the crux of the whole problem. But maybe she could. He could give her that chance, to send him on his way. She could do this for him, for herself, even if she didn't know it.

If she could just give him an excuse, any hint that she didn't harbor the same thoughts as he did about her, consider the same confusions, then he could move forward knowing there was nothing he left unfinished. He was already dead, he could survive a broken heart.

-:-

"Tonight, tonight," Rachel sang quietly, spinning around on the empty stage. She'd come to the auditorium for space, but all it did was remind her of the fall musical, of her Tony and how he had come to his own tragic end, leaving her in a tailspin that even she wasn't prepared for. It'd been almost four days since she'd asked Kurt about seeing Blaine, a month to the date of his death and Rachel couldn't focus on schoolwork at all. It was disastrous to her chances at NYADA, she knew, but she had come to learn that there might have been bigger things than her career.

There might have been more important people than her career.

"You're a little off-pitch," she heard from off-stage, her heart jolting at the familiar tone, the easy going smile coming into view a moment later. "Which is something I never thought I'd say to Rachel Berry."

"Blaine," she breathed, her movements frozen in the middle of the stage, her eyes wide as she took him in. He looked just the same as he did the day of the accident, his hair free of gel and almost wavy like it had been when he was at Dalton, his eyes bright and shining in her direction in such a familiar fashion that she felt the swoop low in her stomach as he moved towards her.

"Rachel," he said, and though his tone was amused she could hear the hesitance laying behind it, the slight flicker of hurt flashing over his face as she took a step backwards on instinct.

"You're dead." It wasn't a question, but a statement, one she needed validated before she started fully panicking, and he nodded slightly in response. "You're dead, and you-Blaine, we buried you, so why can I see you?"

"I don't know," he answered, but it wasn't good enough for her, and she shook her head 'no' quickly, tears gathering in her eyes as she took another step backwards.

"I'm losing my mind," she said quietly, "I'm going crazy, and that's the only explanation, because you're dead and you're not really here, and I just-"

"Rachel," Blaine interrupted, taking another few steps closer to her until he was right in front of her, her body frozen at the sudden nearness of him.

"You're not here," she whispered again, voice breaking slightly and the look of heartbreak etched on his face as he hesitantly moved a hand towards her, Rachel watching with her own wide eyes as it landed on her wrist.

"I am," he said simply as his fingers folded around her wrist to hold it, the sensation nearly causing her to faint on the stage. His hand wasn't particularly warm, nor particularly cold, just kind of-there. Holding her.

"Oh my god," she whispered, torn between being ecstatic and horrified, her eyes locked on where his hand was still gripped around her. "Blaine you're-"

"Dead, yes, I think we covered that already," he said, but his tone was still cautious as he watched her, waiting to see how she'd react. Her instinct was to yank her arm away, to run away, to tell her dads she was seeing things, to fix herself before going away to New York where this would period of time would become nothing but a vague memory. But she chased the thought away immediately, deciding subconsciously that if settling into a half-crazed state meant she'd have Blaine back, she'd accept it. Somehow.

She flung her arms around his neck, Blaine laughing loudly before wrapping his own around her waist and holding her tight, his face pressed into her neck as she stood there on her toes for a moment, taking in the moment.

"I've missed you," she breathed, unable to think of anything else to say as they parted, his arms still wrapped around her even as she rested her own hand on his chest, looking up into the hazel eyes she never thought she'd stare at again.

"You've seen me this whole time," he chuckled, and she looked at him quizzically. "You were a little less than subtle with your staring in whatever direction I was in."

"How come I can see you and Kurt can't?" she asked him, knowing the question had to be stated, knowing that she needed to know the answer now. She might have been accepting a first class ticket to Crazy Town, but she wasn't going to do so without getting answers to questions that had been plaguing her mind ever since he first appeared. "What-I mean, what even are you?"

He sucked in a deep breath, the act out of place for someone she knew wasn't breathing, looking past her before answering either of her questions. "I don't know much, what with the whole being dead thing hindering me from finding out more, but I would assume I'm some sort of ghost-type-thing?" he questioned, Rachel's hand moving down his abdomen as in questioning as to why she could feel him if he was, vaguely aware of the way the muscles underneath her fingers tensed. "I wasn't sure if I could actually touch you, feel you-or why you can see me and others can't. I tried to get Kurt to see me too, tried to reach for him but-"

"It's just me," she said quietly, finishing his statement. He nodded, eyes once more wary in her direction as she focused on the fabric of his sweater vest, the blue one he had worn the first time he joined the New Directions, a memory of how excited he had been to join them flashing through her mind before she shut it away. "Why?" she asked again, pressing for more because she knew he knew, knew that there was something he wasn't telling her.

"I honestly don't know," he told her, eyes focused on where her fingers were still trailing across his abdomen, a funny smile on his face that she didn't recognize when she looked up at him again. "But you're going to have to stop doing that," he requested, grabbing ahold of her fingers and holding them between his own, a small blush crawling over her face.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I just-you're real. And solid. And-"

"Dead?" he offered, a small giggle erupting before she could stop it, his own smile growing in return as she shook her head.

"Here, was the word I was going for." She stood quietly for a moment, relishing in the feel of his hand on her back, the other entwined with her own as she stared up at him unabashedly. He did the same to her, and for a moment she was worried he was just going to disappear if she blinked, if she turned away, and he seemed to sense that she was ill at ease once more as he quietly asked what was wrong. "Now that I've seen you, like-know, for real, that you're here-are you going to leave again?"

Blaine frowned, shaking his head. "I don't think so. I don't-I don't think I'm ready. I think there's something unfinished for me here, which is why I'm stuck."

"At McKinley?" she questioned, trying to recall if she'd seen him anywhere else even though she knew she hadn't.

"Not just McKinley per say, but that's where I've spent my time. I haven't tried going elsewhere. Here, I can watch you and Kurt and everyone and see what's happening."

"It is very important for a ghost to keep up on their gossip," she quipped, an easy smile returning to her features.

"I don't have much else to do," he returned just as quickly, both laughing quietly for a moment before it died down. She was content to stay there for awhile longer, to soak him in as much as she could when she heard her name being called, Kurt's voice echoing through the theater and her hands dropped automatically, Blaine stepping away from her as the boy appeared like a jolt of reality.

"Kurt!" she exclaimed, louder than necessary and the boys eyebrows raised in question but he simply looked around, right through Blaine, and it hurt her heart to know that Blaine knew that too. "What are you doing here?"

"You skipped physics again, and I figured this is where you'd be. We're going to be late for glee, and I don't feel like dealing with Satan right now on my own," Kurt replied dryly, kicking Rachel's bag until she picked it up, her eyes focused on Blaine once more as he merely nodded, telling her to go.

"Okay," she said quietly, linking arms with Kurt as they headed off the stage, her arm grazing past Blaine's before he was gone, disappeared, the threat of tears prominent as she walked in silence with Kurt.

-:-

It was pure instinct on his part when he reached out to touch her. He'd done it so many times in the past that it didn't even cross his mind that he might not even be allowed to hold her, that by being dead he might simply pass through her. So far, he hadn't been able to walk through walls or anything of the like, but whenever he was around people, they seemed to pass around him like an obstacle to be missed even if they couldn't see him. He didn't have to worry about schematics, it took care of itself.

But his hand wrapped around her wrist and for a moment he could pretend everything was normal, except even as he held onto her hand, he realized he couldn't feel her. Not the way he used to. He knew she was there, he knew he was touching her, and from her reaction, he was certain she could feel him. But all he felt was a dull tingling under his skin, like part of him was trying to remember the warmth of her skin, the wild and racing pulse under his fingertips, the weight of her body against his. Even if he could imagine every detail, it still wasn't the same.

Still, it was Rachel and as she wrapped her arms around his neck joyously, he couldn't help the relieved laugh that escaped him. Even if he couldn't really feel her, he was holding her. His arms were tight against the curve of her back, his face buried in her hair. He was surrounded by her and amongst all the strife and confusion and loneliness he wouldn't allow himself to acknowledge, this was the greatest pleasure he had known since he watched himself get lowered six feet under ground.

She had a lot of questions and he tried to answer them as truthfully as he could. The only one he hesitated on was when she asked about Kurt, more specifically why he couldn't see him. It was a perfectly logical question and if he were honest, it was the answer to everything else. Or the beginning of an answer anyway, but it spun his head around in circles and as much as he wanted to tell her that maybe he was stuck from moving on because of her, he didn't know how to put it into words. And she was so happy right now, happier than he'd seen her in a long time, he just couldn't put his death on her shoulders. He could wait a little longer, at least until he figured it out for himself.

He thought for a moment, as she looked up at him with her spectacularly brown eyes, that he would crack and confide in her anyway but he was saved from that questionable decision when Kurt suddenly appeared in the auditorium. A wave of frenzied guilt washed over him, like he had been caught doing something wrong and even as Kurt looked through him, completely unaware of his presence, it wouldn't go away. It still spoke of betrayal to him, being around Rachel with his clouded intentions. If he were alive, it would feel like cheating; so he told her to go, feigning a smile for her sake.

As she passed him, her arm grazed against his with a subtle spark. It was barely there, but it was more than he'd had before and he knew he was falling deeper into this than he ever anticipated.

-:-

He tried to give her space, an attempt on his part to convince himself his world wasn't starting to revolve around her, but it really was no use. It was turning out to be harder to stay away from her now that it ever had been – he'd been able to distract himself from her before, him with Kurt, her with Finn. - and it wasn't getting any easier as time went by. She seemed to cling to him every second she could. It was her way of making sure he was really there, he supposed, that he wouldn't be taken away from her so suddenly.

In the back of his mind he knew he would have to leave her. It was an inevitability, but if he could push it off or push it aside, it somehow became less real. His jumbled feelings were less real, less important and he knew it was the equivalent of taking a thousand steps backwards, burying everything just as it was starting to resurface. That's what he was good at after all: he ran.

Which was why he tried to run back to Kurt, did everything he could think of to get his ex-boyfriend by default to see him, to hear him, to talk to him. But nothing worked, Kurt just blinked and stared off into the distance or inadvertently changed his path when Blaine stepped in front of him, screaming his name. So he tried the same with Mike. Then with Sam and Quinn and anyone else he could think of, even Sugar and Brittany, all to no avail.

The only person he couldn't bring himself to try to talk to was Finn. Every time he looked at the boy, Blaine felt an intense swell of rage and resentment towards him and it was never more intense than the day he overheard Rachel and Finn fighting outside the auditorium one day after school. He was screaming at her, accusing her of being heartless and begging her to come back to him all in the same breath and Blaine wanted nothing more than to rush to Rachel's defense, to tell Finn to back off. He'd always been so ungrateful for what he had with her, always unable to see how lucky he was that she cared about him at all. She had given him more of herself than she'd given anyone and he was dense enough to think it didn't matter just because they had broken up. Finn would never understand the gift that was the time he had with Rachel and for that, Blaine hated him.

After that, he stopped trying to stay away from her.

-:-

She still wasn't 100% sure that she hadn't lost her mind, but she gave in to the inevitable as Blaine started moving around her more and more often. He'd sit with her at lunch, walk with her in the halls, and while they never talked when others were around-he'd make a few comments here and there about something and she'd start to giggle, making her look as crazy as she felt.

She'd stay after school even later now, returning to the auditorium every evening and sitting in the middle of the stage, always touching him in some fashion. Sometimes they just held hands, others they'd hold each other, Rachel making sure she had at least one finger on him at all times. If she could feel him, it was like he was real, like he had never died and left her alone with a gaping hole in her heart, and it made it easier to get through the rest of the day.

"Have you tried talking to Kurt?" she asked him one day, staying even later than normal because she wasn't sure he'd still be there on Monday. Fridays were the hardest for her to part from, with the ever constant question on if he'd still appear haunting her for two long days before she rushed to school Monday morning, Blaine leaning against her locker every time.

He nodded in response, Rachel's face falling slightly at the grim expression. "And Puck, and Mike, and Sam."

"No Finn?" she half-joked, wondering why he had left that one out-they hadn't talked about him at all since Blaine appeared, hadn't discussed how she had been in the process of getting ready for a wedding that completely derailed the moment Blaine's car did, hadn't mentioned that she no longer wore a ring around her finger.

He grimaced slightly, his fingers tracing stars in her palms as they lay flat on her knees, his own touching hers. "No, I haven't tried Finn," Blaine responded quietly, and when Rachel prompted him with 'why' he took a deep sigh, not quite willing to meet her eye. "I don't have anything to say to him."

"You two were friends though," she whispered, Blaine rolling his eyes in response and throwing her off, not expecting him to act this way.

"Barely," he muttered, "and only because you and Kurt practically demanded it."

"But you two got along," she continued, perplexed at how bitter he sounded.

"We didn't-we were fine when it was in a group, and we weren't forced to actually speak directly to one another. But no, Rachel, we weren't friends. Not really." She chewed her lip, trying to understand something that seemed so ridiculous. She knew, after the proposal, things between the four of them-Rachel, Finn, Kurt and Blaine-had somewhat disintegrated, but she never noticed the extent of it, never noticed anything other than friendship between Blaine and Finn.

"Why?"

"Jesus-Rachel, do you have to ask so many questions?" he snapped, and she recoiled slightly at his words, though his face softened when he noticed her hurt expression, a hand brushing over her cheek almost instinctively as he apologized. "I'm sorry, I just-I don't know if I should talk about it."

"We broke up, you know," she told him quietly, saying the words she'd barely thought about since Blaine came back around. "After your accident, it was just too stressful and I couldn't marry him."

"Well if that's all it took to make you see the light," Blaine chortled, Rachel smacking him on the back of the head.

"It's not funny!"

"I know," he said, sobering up as he took her hand in his own again, his eyes focused on where the ring she had once worn had been located. "I also knew that you two broke up."

"How did you-"

"I'm a ghost, Rachel," Blaine smirked. "I can pretty much be wherever I want to be and make sure no one sees me."

"But I can see you, and you weren't-"

"You don't always see me," Blaine interjected, and her eyes went wide. She knew she should have been offended that Blaine had apparently eavesdropped on such an intimate conversation, one that should have felt like the end of the world to her, but she was more curious about his motives and why he did it than she was upset.

"Do you hide from me often?" she asked instead, because she wasn't sure if she was prepared for the answer she'd get if she asked the other one. There was a part of her that knew, deep down inside, exactly what unfinished business Blaine had that only had to do with her, but if she acknowledged it, accepted it, he might leave her once more-for good, this time-and she would rather have something than nothing at all.

"No," Blaine answered her casually, leaning back to lay on the stage and pulling her with him until she was resting her head on his stomach, his hand on hers. "Sometimes, when I know you shouldn't be distracted, but usually if you don't see me it's because I'm not there. I don't want to be some sort of Edward Cullen freaky stalker, after all," he said, and she could hear the amusement in his voice as she let out a small laugh of her own.

"Is that why I only see you here, then?" she asked, poking his side as she did so to offset the slight waver in her voice that betrayed the real hurt beneath the question.

"I haven't tried leaving here," he told her, thumb moving lazily over the fabric of her sweater. "I figured why push for more when I don't know if it'll fuck me over?" She hummed in agreement, understanding the sentiment well.

"It's better to take what you have than risk losing everything," she added quietly, Blaine not making any noise in acknowledgment.

-:-

He'd lied to her about leaving the school for her sake as much as his own, knowing that if she knew he was free to roam around, she would ask him to walk her home, then to stay for the afternoon, then the night and he wouldn't be able to say no to her. He would do anything she asked, but he would not be so selfish as to ask her to stop living her life just because he was there with her; and he knew she would, spending her days going through the motions expected of her, waiting for the moments where she could sneak away and hide with him in this mess of an afterlife. She deserved better.

But with every stolen whisper, every breathless giggle, every shared smile, he began to unravel even further. Nothing else mattered but being around her. And her touches, he was starting to feel them again, little by little. Every day that passed, they held a little more weight, a tiny bit more warmth, and he found himself dreaming of the day when it would happen. If it would be everything he ever remembered, or if it would be even more, like looking into a bright light after a long sleep and everything seemed new and bright and bit painful, but the good kind. Because you knew something good was happening, something real.

And even if it did send him into a free falling tailspin, it was becoming more and more real to him. The things he'd locked up during his life, they were all he had left and they were all centered around Rachel. He could try and spend the rest of whatever existence he had trying to run from it, but the fact was he'd died trying to avoid it. He had told her he couldn't go to her fitting, using Cooper's visit home as an excuse when the reality was that he didn't think he'd be able to watch her try on wedding dresses. So he ran away, convinced his brother to take him to dinner in the next city over, all so he didn't have to face the fact that he might have been secretly pining over Rachel Berry.

She had been talking about the glee club's song selections for National, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder as her fingers laced through his own. She rubbed small circles into the back of his hand with her thumb and with every pass, his skin prickled and burned from her touch until it broke him down. It was so close to feeling real, to feeling her that in a desperate bid to push it over that edge and make it tangible, he reached over and kissed her. It was like an electric current passing through his entire body, intensifying as his lips slipped passed hers. His hands tangled in her hair as she gasped, pulling her closer and feeding on the sparks that flowed between them.

Her face was flushed as she pulled away, her breath coming in pants. She searched him, silently asking him for all the answers he was still afraid to give. But she was blazing to touch, solid and alive and he knew at that moment what he was meant to say, what he should have said long before death took his real chance away from him. There wasn't much stopping him, except the frozen ball of ice that had settled into his stomach the moment their lips parted from each other. It was accompanied by sense of dread he couldn't explain; all he knew was that something had physically shifted in him, like it was tugging him away. The only thing that kept it away was her hand on his shoulder, his hand in her hair.

He'd rather be damned than to lose this now, he thought, before he kissed her again, hoping it would be answer enough for her.

-:-

It was the first time that they kissed that seemed to finally reassure Rachel that this was real, that he was somehow, some way, actually there in front of her. It was a rush of emotions, each as confusing and mind blowing as the next, but she couldn't focus on any of that when his lips were pressed firmly against her own.

After that, it was almost like she needed to kiss him, that touching wasn't enough anymore, and it wasn't even for the obvious reasons that she'd fling her arms around him and meet him halfway when she cut classes or met him after school. At night, when she lay in bed, she no longer thought about how crazy she was going, about how she had gone completely over the edge and made up Blaine to somehow appear real in front of her. She didn't toss and turn and fight tears throughout the late hours anymore. She merely counted minutes until they'd gone completely, until it was morning and she was rushing to get back to McKinley to see him once more, ambushing him wherever he could pull her out of public vision.

She seemed to have a permanent smile etched on her face, and for a couple of weeks things seemed to be going almost well. She got her NYADA letter in, refusing to open it until she was at Blaine's side once more, sitting side by side on the stage as she opened it with shaky hands, Blaine holding her as she cried with happiness at the acceptance.

If it hadn't been for the fact that he was dead, she'd have started referring to him as her boyfriend.

But he was, and for that reason alone she kept quiet.

Kurt was still walking around, heartbroken and depressed, Mike's dancing only half as excellent as it had been in the past even with his acceptance into the Julliard dancing program, Sam and Quinn still quiet as they watched everyone fall apart. Rachel knew that she should have been in the mix of them, mourning properly, but with Blaine still on her side, even with a half-existence, she couldn't find it in herself to focus on the fact that her time with him was dwindling down, that graduation was only another month and a half away.

She was living her own half-existence, and she knew it deep down but it didn't fully hit her until Jesse St. James showed up one day when she was playing the piano left on the stage, singing quietly with Blaine next to her, invisible to her ex as he jumped up on the stage.

Blaine had disappeared-though whether he had left or not she had no idea, the idea disconcerting for the first time since she found out he could do so-leaving her seemingly alone with the new head of Vocal Adrenaline.

"I wanted to come tell you myself, you know, so you're prepared to pull out all the stops at Nationals in three weeks," Jesse said breezily, circling the stage in an almost predatory manner. She remembered a similar meeting the previous year, Jesse showing up and tilting her world upside down again, and she had been grateful then. For now, she was merely irritated that he was intruding on the short time she was allotted with Blaine, and felt no reason to hide her annoyance.

"I think the New Directions will be plenty prepared," she shot back just as easily, closing the music book she hadn't been paying any attention to when she'd been playing.

"You know, I don't think you're in any position to be snippy with me," Jesse remarked as he leaned against the piano, his eyes piercing into her skin as they always did, Rachel pausing her own collections as she took him in. She knew he was right, that she had been the one to turn him away the previous time, that she had probably hurt him when she ran back to Finn once more, but that seemed like an entirely different lifetime ago.

"A lot has changed in the past year," she replied quietly, not daring to mention more-the thought of even saying Blaine's name aloud to someone who wasn't her was vaguely petrifying, not knowing how it'd be uttered or what it'd give away.

"Not everything," Jesse responded, his voice dropping a few decibels in return. "You still don't have a date to prom again." She didn't question how he knew this, hadn't even thought about the dance since the posters went up nearly three weeks ago. Prom was something she'd be forced to go to, she was sure, but she wouldn't be able to sway on the dance floor on Blaine's arm, wouldn't get her picture taken with him, wouldn't be able to sit and talk to him for the evening, and so she was pushing the thoughts away.

"I don't want a date to prom," she informed him, trying to pass by him on her way off the stage, but he pulled her wrist and startled her, stopping her motions completely.

"What if I promise not to get into a fight with Hudson this year?" Jesse questioned, and she bit her lip, staring at the floor between their feet, scuffed and marked from various movements over the years.

"I'll think about it," she answered after a moment, because in truth, the decision wasn't for her-it was for Blaine.

-:-

She didn't see him almost the entire day following, her breathing feeling restrictive and she knew she was becoming too dependent on something that wasn't guaranteed to be there within seconds, but all she could think about was how he'd still meet her in the auditorium just as he had every other day for the past month and a half after she left glee.

She nearly tackled him over when she walked in, Blaine pacing the stage before her arms were around him and her breathing finally relaxing as his arms wound around her instinctively, a small chuckle falling from his lips before she closed the distance between them, Blaine returning her desire only momentarily before he pulled away, leaving her completely as he moved across the stage once more. She crossed her arms over herself, trying to hold herself in as her lip instinctively was gnawed on between her teeth, watching him quietly.

"I didn't see you all day," she finally said quietly, Blaine not answering as he paused in his steps, his back half-turned to her. "I wanted to talk to you."

"I figured I had to leave you alone sometime," he said, his grin forced more than natural, and it caused a small throb of pain in her heart at the image. "What's up?"

"Jesse wants to take me to prom again," she informed Blaine, though his face remained impassive and didn't tell her if he knew this or not already. If she had been more cavalier about the situation, as he often was, she might have made a joke about the problems of having a ghost for a boyfriend-but she wasn't, and so the passing thought was lost immediately as she took a step forward. "I said I'd think about it."

"What's there to think about?" Blaine asked, trying to sound light-hearted about the subject, but there was a weight to his words, one Rachel both hated and loved. It meant that there was so much being unsaid between them, so much that couldn't be said, and it scared her to know that it was a very distinct possibility that if the words slipped, he'd be gone.

"Well, for one he wasn't exactly civil at last years-"

"He defended himself when Finn came over and attacked him, unprovoked, and then flew across the country to watch you perform only for you to throw yourself at Finn once more," Blaine interrupted, still not looking at her, her mouth falling into a thin line.

"Are you saying you want me to go?" she asked, her voice harsh as she tried to wrap her mind around the idea of Blaine pushing her towards someone else, not immediately claiming her as his own.

"I'm saying you should do what you want, but don't make Jesse out to be a bad guy," Blaine explained.

"Why are you taking his side? You don't even know him," she retorted, hands balling into fists at her side. She kept the shouldn't you be fighting for me, for a chance, considering how we spend most afternoons these days? silent on her lips, though she was sure he got the message regardless as he moved towards her.

"I'm not taking his side, Rachel, I'm taking yours. It's your senior prom, and you deserve to go and have fun."

"I'd rather be going with you," she admitted, voice small as she looked at her feet, Blaine's hand grabbing one of her own.

"You can come here for a bit, meet me. Save me a dance," he suggested, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "But you're still alive, Rachel, and you can't-I can't have you sit out of things just because I'm not."

His words hit low, the reminder that he couldn't sweep her across the dance floor after Quinn inevitably won queen daunting and hurtful as it weighted her down, but she nodded. "Jesse is a much more acceptable suitor than Finn," she finally admitted, Blaine's smile warm once more as it shone in her direction.

"As long as I get my dance," he whispered, and she could only nod before standing on her toes to kiss him again, words no longer needed between the two.

-:-

The reappearance of Jesse St. James was the first time he could clearly see Rachel's future outside of high school, outside of himself and suddenly it was as if he could see everything she was meant to have and all the things she couldn't have with him. It was infuriating, an anger deeper than he'd ever known, and he had no one to blame but himself. Some part of him had known all of this from the start, but he had forced himself not to think about it. Now that it was all catching up to him, he didn't know what to do.

He knew what she wanted him to do. She wanted him to tell her not to go to prom with Jesse, to stay with him and lock herself away from what should have been one of the best nights of her life just so she could spend it in secret with him. But instead he told her to go, to have fun, to be a normal teenager with a normal date for her last high school dance. It pained him, but it was absolutely the right thing to do.

It was selfish of him and it was in direct contradiction to his reasoning for her going with Jesse in the first place, but when she said she'd rather go with him, he couldn't find the strength to tell her no. So he settled: one dance. It was really the last thing he could do for her. One last dance, and then he would let her go.

-:-

Once she agreed to go to prom with him, Rachel had tried to keep her relationship with Jesse as strictly platonic as possible, but that didn't mean she missed the vibes from him that he'd sent once before-the ones that said he still wanted her, still loved her, still wanted to be a part of her life. It hurt, because she loved Blaine-not that she could admit this aloud, to anyone-but she couldn't fully have him, couldn't tell him all the things she wanted to and love him the way she wanted to. She ended up spending time with Jesse once it was far too late to be around Blaine, a familiar ache in her gut every time Jesse's hand landed upon her skin, his lips brushing across her cheeks in a friendly greeting, his smile a little too genuine for it to be anything else.

She picked out her dress alone, Kurt too depressed to even think about going-"All I'll be able to think about is how he was there," he had told her when she asked, in the same sad tone he always used whenever anything relating to Blaine came up-got ready alone, wondering how different the night would be if Blaine was still alive. How there'd be a group of them, how she might have been married and attending with Finn while Blaine was with Kurt, how Jesse might never have reached out to her once more.

It hit her all at once, how much had changed just because of his death, something she placed little to no thought about these days, and she ended up having to re-apply her makeup once she stopped the tears from falling.

Her smile was in place for Jesse, but it wasn't really for him. She let him spin her around the room, laughed at the appropriate times, but as soon as the prom queen nominations were called to the front of the stage, she caught Blaine's eye and took her exit, whispering that she'd be back in a moment or two in Jesse's ear even if she had no intention of coming back anytime soon.

She followed him silently to an empty classroom across the school, the silence unsettling even as she tried to catch up to him. He was upset, she could tell, but she reminded herself that he had pushed her into this-had told her to go with Jesse, to live her life if he couldn't live his own-and by the time they entered the room she'd worked herself into her own anger. "What's wrong?" she asked as he slid onto a desk, legs crossed as she stood in front of him, reaching for his hand that he gave her reluctantly.

"Nothing," he said, though he wouldn't quite meet her eyes. "I'm fine."

"Blaine, please," she whispered, her voice soft and it seemed to melt him enough for a hand to rub at the back of his neck, looking properly ashamed of his attitude.

"I just-I hate that it can't be me in there with you. That it has to be St. James who gets to dance with you and show you off and piss off Finn and-"

"Hey," she interrupted, a finger placed upon his lips. "We both know I'd rather be in there with you." They stayed silent for a moment, just staring at each other, words at the tip of her tongue that she couldn't utter just yet. Instead, she pulled him off the desk, pulling him closer to her as she wrapped her arms around his neck and started swaying to the silence that surrounded them.

"What are you doing?" he asked, though his hands fell naturally to her waist, holding her tight as they shuffled.

"I promised you a dance," she reminded, and his smile was still strained, her eyes worried as they took it in.

"Shouldn't you get back to Jesse?" he prodded, but she simply shook her head 'no', knowing she'd only come running back to Blaine regardless.

"I'm right where I'm supposed to be."

-:-

He could barely even hear the music from the gym echo down the halls, but it didn't matter as he held Rachel in his arms, swaying to their own rhythm, humming a melody all their own. This was heaven, he guessed, this beautiful woman in his arms, full of life and grace. It was every cliché in the book and his walls were tumbling down faster than he could rebuild them. All the words he wanted to say caught in his throat. I love you, I love you.

With that thought alone, the three words he'd been so terrified of ringing through his head alone, he could feel her. All of her, radiant like a searing fire, soft and supple skin, her pounding heart, her stuttering breaths and it washed over him as if it were his own, as if she were giving him life. It was overwhelming to his long dulled senses and as she leaned up to kiss him, he couldn't hold himself back.

They fell deeper and deeper into the kiss as soft and sweet lips turned bruising and open. Her arms wrapped around the back of his neck, one hand tangling in his hair to pull him further down into her mouth and oh god he could feel her fingernails scraping against his scalp. His own dug into her dress, searching for her hips through the layers of fabric, latching on as soon as he could and lifting her up onto the teacher's desk. Her legs wrapped around him immediately, pulling him flush against her body with a light moan.

His hands fell to the hem of her dress, pushing it past her knees, fingers traveling an invisible path up her thighs. She was so warm, so soft and not a moment of it was lost on him. He wouldn't take it for granted, this gift he'd been given to hold her like this and to actually feel her. He just needed more, more skin to touch and kiss and feel the heat she gave him. It was beyond anything he could ever remember experiencing at any moment and it was his to take. She was giving it to him, wanted him to have it.

As frantic as he felt inside, they took the time with each other to explore as every article of clothing disappeared, falling into piles around the desk until there was not a stitch left between them. She pulled him on top of the desk with her, guiding his hands down her hips until she had him where she wanted him the most. He hovered over her, capturing her mouth in another kiss to swallow her moans as he teased her, just to be sure she was ready before parting her and sliding his finger into her effortlessly, like he belonged there.

Her back arched slightly off the desk when he started to move, starting slowly to build up a rhythm, words like more, deeper, please tumbling from her lips in a breathless jumble only to be cut off by a half-strangled moan as he had a second finger. She was writhing under his touch, hips rolling to meet his hand. She reached out to him blindly, scratching at his chest, leaving marks as his fingers crooked inside her. She started to shake, gripping his shoulder tightly as her muscles clenched around him and he could feel she was close, but she was trying so hard to hold back, doing everything she could to hold out. She leaned up to whisper in his ear, the words raspy and smoky in a way he'd never heard her before: I need you please.

All along, he'd been letting her lead him because tonight was meant to be about her, about what she wanted and what he could give her, but he couldn't deny that he wanted this too. To be able to say he'd been able to have her just once, to feel every moment of their time together like this. Even if it would only be once – and he felt it would have to be – no matter where he ended up, they would at least have this. He would remember the way her breathing hitched, the way her nails dug into his skin, and the perfect contentment that spread over her face as he entered her, inch by slow inch until there was nothing left to do but move. It was a slow build, their moans deep and low, muffled only by their connected lips. She wrapped around him completely, holding him tight to her chest, legs hooked and crossed behind his back, puller him in deeper until she once again started to shake, her convulsions becoming his own as they fell over the edge together, panting each others name with the little breath they had left.

They lay like that for over an hour, not a word passing between. Hands traveled all over, memorizing lines and tracing curves until it came time for the dance to end and real life to start once more. It remained unspoken between them, but he somehow just knew that she understood why he couldn't say it. He could already feel himself drifting away from her. The words were the last string, and even though he was sure she knew, he knew eventually he would have to say them aloud.

That would be the end.

He just wasn't quite ready for it.

-:-

The weeks following prom were a whirlwind of chaos. Jesse had come over the next morning, yelling about how she had run away, giving her a headache in the process as she stood there silently before dismissing him for the last time so he wouldn't taint her night with Blaine. Nationals were held the next weekend, dragging Rachel away for four whole days from Blaine, with no way to contact him and it was pure agony for her to be apart from him even in the most simplistic of ways. It felt like she was really losing him for the first time since he'd reappeared, which she knew was inevitable-they only had weeks left now, and both seemed to face the fact with a bittersweet sense of longing. He'd ask her about New York, her plans for the city, and she'd tell him how much she wished he was going as well.

It was his arms she raced into the second they arrived back at McKinley, no one saying a word as she ducked inside the building and headed straight for the auditorium, Blaine smattering kisses of congratulations as soon as she shouted 'We won! We finally won!' in his ear, her fathers never questioning why she showed up at home four hours after they were set to arrive in Lima.

Still, the happiness she felt whenever she was with him was tainted with the ticking of the clock, of the signs for graduation rehearsal, of yearbooks being passed around and before she knew it her finals were taken and her time with Blaine was finally drawing to a close.

Graduation itself was an event Rachel wanted to remember forever, her smile wide and proud as she walked across the stage and shook Figgen's hand, accepting her diploma as she switched the tassel of her hat from one side to the other before resuming her seat in the front row. Her dads wrapped her in a hug so tight she was sure she couldn't breathe, and for the first time in months even Kurt had a smile on his face as they held each other, cameras flashing as proud parents roused groups together. They stayed nearly an hour after the ceremony had wrapped before her dads said they'd meet her at home, Kurt kissing her cheek one last time as he whispered 'We did it' before Finn whisked him off with Carole and Burt, leaving Rachel on her own in the middle of the football field amongst people she had no connection with.

It was with a heavy heart that she headed towards the auditorium, a song of sadness she sung quietly under her breath when she found it empty, taking a moment to let memories cascade over her. The first time they had performed as a glee club on that stage, singing 'Don't Stop Believing', Finn and her barely beginning a very rocky relationship while Kurt still saw her as the enemy. The times Shelby had walked in and out of her life, presenting her with the only cup she'd ever truly cherish and telling her she was proud of her, helping her with a letter of recommendation to push her towards her future.

Then, of course, there were the moments with Blaine. The times they sang with the glee club, the countless hours they spent running lines as Tony and Maria, and the past few months where they grew from friends to so much more, letting out everything they'd felt for so long in motions that they never spoke about, but the time to mention it aloud was finally here. It was now or never, and Rachel knew she'd never fully be able to cope and mourn what was sure to be the worst heartache she'd ever face until he knew the whole story.

"Congratulations," he said when he finally appeared after a few minutes, Rachel's memories fading away as she took him in one last final time. She knew once the words fell out, he'd be gone, and it was going to take all her strength to get up and leave the auditorium when that happened.

"Thank you," she said quietly, winding around him and breathing him in, memorizing the way she didn't even have to stand on her toes to do so, the way his lips pressed against her neck as his hands rested on the small of her back, burning her skin through layers of clothing. She stared at him, unabashedly so, taking in the hazel eyes and the loose curls she loved to run her fingers through, the wide smile that was less so today, everything she could think of.

"I'm going to miss you, you know," she said after a moment, her voice thick with impending tears, and he just brushed a finger over her cheeks and nodded in agreement.

"At least we got some time together," he said quietly, his eyes fill with sorrow and heartbreak and it nearly tore her own in two to know that this was the end for them, and it wasn't even an end they could have avoided-this was how it was supposed to be, from the beginning. "At least-shit, at least we figured it out for a little bit."

"Too bad it took you dying for us to do so," she tried laughing, but it sounded hollow to both their ears, the sound traveling ominously around the auditorium.

"I-" she started, but he shook his head, whispering 'not yet', and she just nodded in response, letting the words sit between them.

It seemed like every second was laced with a time bomb, waiting for it to explode and Rachel could only keep her mouth shut for so long before she erupted herself. "Why couldn't you have realized all this when you were alive?" she asked quietly, eyes brimming with tears. "We could have had so much time, we could have had forever," she said, voice choking up slightly and he just held her tightly as the tears started to fall, incoherent words traveling down back from their first kisses coming out as she tried to tell him everything before he went, how she'd waited for him for so long, how it'd been him all along, and he could only whisper words of 'I don't know,' and 'I wish I had,' and 'You should have pointed it out for me,' as she tried to steady herself once more.

He wiped away some of the remnants of her tears, and it was only the sound of her phone ringing in her purse that reminded them that she had to go, that they were procrastinating the hardest goodbye of all. "Dinner," she managed to say, hoping he'd understand her words, and he seemed to.

"Close your eyes," he said, and she shook her head, not wanting to miss him for even a second, but he was adamant, begging her, "Please, Rachel, just-I can't-please." She threw her arms around him once last time, kissing him deeply and pulling every bit of him into her as best she could, knowing this was it, this was the end. It was desperate, both of them, and had they had more time she was sure things would have escalated quickly, but before she knew it he was pulling back, asking her once more to close her eyes.

She did so, if only to stave off the tears that were overflowing once more, felt his lips press gently on her own for a moment before he pulled back, and it was almost simultaneously that the words 'I love you' fell from their mouths, Rachel's heart practically exploding from hearing him say the words to her, but when she opened her eyes to celebrate, to cover him in kisses and tell him again and again, he was gone, disappeared, and she had no hold over herself as she collapsed on the stage, crying until she passed out from pure exhaustion, Blaine's name still on her lips as she did.

-:-

She shone brighter than the city itself.

He couldn't be there all of the time, the temptation of slipping back into her life too great, but he watched her from a distance when he could. He stood next to the stage for her first role on Broadway; the stage lights kept him hidden. He was there for her first Tony nomination, the first time her name went up in lights. Everything she ever wanted, ever expected out of life, she was earning and she'd never been happier.

Occasionally, she would go on dates and while he never followed her on them, he could never resist the chance to meet the guy lucky enough to catch her attention, if only for a night. It took her going through a few different guys before he noticed that they all seemed to fit a certain type, a formula even. They were never particularly tall, or overly muscular. They often had dark hair with a slight curl and hazel eyes; the lighter they were, the longer she held on. One day, it finally dawned on him; they all looked like him.

He knew she still thought about him, sometimes even called out to him with a hopeful voice. He never answered back; he wouldn't. It was the right thing to do, the only thing he could do for her. She had freed him, their final words of "I love you" severing the last weight that tied him to his world, but he didn't move on. He could have but as he turned away from her, he realized he had nothing to move on to without her. He might have missed out on living for a lifetime, but he would wait for her during hers.

And so he did, patiently and just beyond the corner of her eye, waiting until the time came that she might join him.

a/n2: this is our first shot at collabing. you like, you review, we try again.