Never in a million years would Dare have imagined he would lose Blaine. Despite all of their struggles and their life of living hell, not Blaine. He imagined having to coach Blaine through losing him, if he’d of been so fortunate enough, but never to have to hold the younger twin in his arms and watch as the life left his eyes. He held him, he tried ever so desperately to stem the heavy flow of blood oozing from Blaine’s open wound, but there was nothing more that could be done. He refused to give up, screaming at Blaine, shaking his shoulders as his head drooped back and the strength began to leave his body.
"BLAINE! BLAINE! DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE DIE ON ME! BLAINE!” He screamed until he was hoarse, until every last ounce of Blaine’s blood had coated the ground beneath their knees and there was nothing more than crimson gravel beneath his knees. He choked on air, his hands beneath his brother’s cooling body coated in that sticky blood. He was dead. Dare had failed, and there was nothing more he could to try and…
…Yes. Yes there was. Scooping up Blaine’s limp and lifeless body, he carried him back to the nearest motel, crossing Blaine’s arms over his chest and ensuring that there was a demon trap encircled around him. The last thing he wanted was a demon getting inside Blaine’s body before Dare had a time to finish out his task. Shakily he found the bottle of booze he’d stashed away to celebrate their victory of murdering Azazel, and swallowed several mouthfuls of hard vodka. He stared at Blaine’s body, his lips parted with the fainted formed words of his final apology, his eyes half-cracked and staring into the void. Was he at peace? Would bringing him back only be putting him in more hell? No. No Blaine needed to come back. Dare couldn’t fucking exist without him. He couldn’t function. Blaine needed to come back. He needed to live. They still had so many years together, they had lives they had…they had each other.
With two more swallows of his drink, Dare stumbled to the nearest crossroads with his box stuffed under his arm. Dropping low to the ground, he dug with his hands and buried it in the Earth, taking another heavy swallow of his drink as he stared into the darkness.
"WELL COME ON YOU FUCHJKERS! YOU GOT ME! I’M RIGH ‘ERE!"
"You reek of booze, Squirrel." A voice finally caught his attention and he whirled on his heel and nearly toppled over.
"Bring ‘em back…" Dare slurred, approaching the demon and throwing his drink to the ground. "I want ‘im back."
"Now why would we do that, darling? We’re quite content with one of—"
"No yer not." Dare interrupted, getting into that thing’s face. “You want me. I’m the one. You can have me.”
The demon pursed his lips, arms behind his back and poised, truly contemplating Dare’s arrangement.
"You want your brother back? It’s gonna cost you."
"I’m ‘ware. You can has me."
"Usually our little…arrangements run for about ten years. But you…you Mr. Anderson…my boss has a special interest in you. Two weeks."
Dare swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat and took a small step back. Two weeks? Two weeks left with Blaine? He’d be leaving Blaine behind. But Blaine had school. Blaine had friends and…people he could turn to. Dare had nothing. Blaine would be so much better off without him.
"Do we have a deal?" The demon mused, eyes blackening, outstretching his hand to shake.
With a grin, the demon leaned forward and roughly grabbed Dare’s face, sealing the arrangement with a vile kiss. Dare shoved him back, and with a cold chuckle, the demon disappeared. Stumbling his way drunkenly back to the motel, Dare made it back just in time to see the faint flutter of Blaine’s eyes beginning to open, life returning to him, color appearing back into his cheekbones. Dare sat on the end of the bed, unscrewing the cap from a flask he had in his pocket. When Blaine sat up, he immediately splashed holy water in Blaine’s face.
"…Sorry." He mused with a weak smile. "Had to be sure."
He made a move to hug his brother, but with his clothing still coated in Blaine’s blood, he retracted his arms and pressed his forearms against his knees. He couldn’t look at Blaine for too long, the vivid image of his collapsed and pale body limp in his arms still too strong to bare.
"You died. You…You made a fucking mistake…and you fucking died. But you’re okay now. I…I got you help."