Glee 1. Two Years Later

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these fantastic characters, nor do I own Glee.**

Finn is a simple kind of guy. He likes simple vocabulary, being popular, and his two-person, perfectly functional family. He loves playing football and would never dream of quitting the team. He throws nerds into dumpsters (even if it makes him uncomfortable) and he's currently failing Spanish. He thinks loud people are obnoxious and he's dating Quinn Fabray, the head cheerleader. Life is good.

Two years later, nothing is the same.

He still isn't a fan of big words, but sometimes he stays up late at night looking up lists of SAT words he can use the next day. He still cares about popularity, but he doesn't need it like he did. His family is no longer small, but dysfunctional and so much _more_ than it was. He quit the football team before, and he would do it again. He offers his hand to help _people_ (because labels are overrated, he's learned that much) out of dumpsters. He is being tutored for Spanish, and he has a B. His first B. Loud people make his life more interesting. Quinn Fabray is in the back of his mind, and he's falling for the last person he'd ever dreamed he'd fall for.

And somehow, through all the changes and bumps and conflicts and fights and betrayals and hurt and heartache and accidental name-calling, life is better.

Xxx

Rachel Barbra Berry knows what she wants. She's dreamed about starring on Broadway ever since she was three years old. Popularity isn't worth her time, as far as she's concerned. One day they'll all want her autograph. She can count her friends on one hand, and none of them truly care for her. She doesn't truly care for anyone either. It's lonely at the top.

Two years later, nothing is the same.

She suddenly finds herself wanting different things. Things that she never thought about before. Things like a certain boy who she used to glare at when she saw him tossing people into dumpsters. Her dreams are filled less and less with Broadway and more with Glee. Popularity still isn't worth her time, but she finds that maybe some popular people aren't so bad after all. She spends time tutoring and finds that she is good at it. Good enough to bring an F to a B. Suddenly she finds herself in Glee club and she understands the people there. She appreciates them. And she cares for them.

And through all the hurt and confusion and longing and anger and singing and yelling and stomping out that same door, the top is a lot less lonely.

Xxx

Kurt Hummel has it tough. Being the only gay guy out at school does that to you. The only crush he's ever had was on a straight guy, and he's never even met someone who could reciprocate his feelings. People make fun of his style and his voice, but he knows he's going to make it big someday. His dad is great, kind and accepting. But there are times when he needs his mom. And those times hurt the most. He's never even dreamed about popularity, it was never an option for him. He considers himself to be "an honorary girl" and his closest friend is Mercedes Jones. She knows all of his secrets. Kurt can't walk through the hallways without being shoved into a locker or getting an unwelcome icy facial. He lives in fear, but he forces himself to keep his head held high through it all.

Two years later, nothing is the same.

He's still the only gay out at McKinley, but he has company in the closet. His crush? Finn Hudson-Hummel, his new stepbrother. He's finally met someone out and proud, and it turns out that his feelings _can_ be returned. He is admired for his style and his Glee club fought to get him back. His voice is treasured. He misses his mom, that won't ever change, but he finds that he can make it through the day without needing her. He can take care of himself. He still isn't necessarily popular, but he has more friends than he ever did before, and connections with two Glee clubs. He isn't an honorary girl so much as a friend to girls. He still loves Mercedes with all of his heart, but there are things he won't tell her. Especially now that Blaine is there to confide in. There's a club at McKinley dedicated to his safety, and his main danger last year in the halls is one of the founders.

And through all of the pain and pride and crushes and courage and duets and solos and confidence and kissing, his head holds itself up of its own accord.

Xxx

Blaine Anderson has always been described as dapper. It never really bothers him, it's just another characteristic. But Blaine is so much more than his characteristics. Nobody knows how he pores over Vogue late at night when his roommate is asleep. Nobody knows that he has been wishing for a boyfriend so long it feels like it'll never happen. He's never told anyone that he left his old school when the bullying got personal. Nobody knows that he joined Warblers because he was lonely. And nobody knows that he stayed because it was an outlet. He is always repressed, polite, perfect. He spews mantras about virtue and goodness and courage, and believes none of it. He's a shell during the day. But when he performs, it's different. He lights up.

Two years later, nothing is the same.

Most people still call Blaine dapper, but there's one person who knows how ridiculous he can be. He doesn't care if his roommate is asleep or not because all he has to do is go next door and he has a reading partner. He has the best, most perfect, most incredible boyfriend he never knew he wanted. He tells him all of his secrets, even stories about his old school. He doesn't have to be afraid to be who he is anymore. The Warblers are still incredible, but even more so because now he has someone to share them with. He's more mature, but sillier, and so much freer that his old friends have started to take notice. He tries to use his own advice, and realizes he doesn't need any of it. He has better things to follow. He willingly gives up solos, yet he's happier than he ever was before.

And through all of the fear and tears and manners and experimenting and shame and love and losing yet winning more than he ever wanted, he's shining brighter than ever before.

Xxx

Quinn Fabray is loving life on top. She's head Cheerio, and at the top of the pyramid and the popularity food chain. She's thin and toned without really having to try, and she's convinced she's got the sweetest, most popular boyfriend alive. She has the perfect family, and they love her. Her goal is to make Rachel Berry's life a living hell. She doesn't fail. Ever. She might be in Glee club, but she doesn't have to like it. She is a spy, after all. When she walks through the hallways with Finn on her arm, people stare, and she knows that they love her because she is Quinn Fabray.

Two years later, nothing is the same.

She is no longer at the top, though she's getting close. Pregnancy kind of ruins your figure. She quit the Cheerios and without Finn, she's not nearly as popular as she was before. She works out every other day to stay in shape after the baby wrecked her teenage metabolism. Her boyfriend is now an ex. Again. As much as she hates Rachel Berry, she isn't out to get her as much anymore. She failed. She actually finds herself enjoying Glee every once in a while, and she's got no one to report back to. When she walks through the hallways, no one stares, but every so often she'll find Mercedes or Sam at her side, talking about Sectionals or Regionals or Nationals.

And through all of the drama and hurt and lying and kissing and growing up faster than she ever should have, she finds that people start loving her because of who she really is.

Xxx

Noah Puckerman is a badass. End of story. If you aren't on the football team and have the pleasure of meeting him, it usually comes with a toss in the dumpster. He moves from girl to girl more often than he attends math class, and his reputation is fearsome. His best friend is Finn, who he hangs out with, plays video games with, and watches zombie movies with. He has a pool cleaning business that keeps him rolling in dough and he cares deeply for his mother and little sister (but don't tell anyone). He joins Glee because he can pick up babes. They love his sensitive side. But who wouldn't? Puck is pretty much the coolest guy ever.

Two years later, nothing is the same.

He's still a badass at heart, that could never change, but people are starting to question it. He's stopped throwing people into dumpsters (for the most part) and he only comes in contact with slushies when they're thrown in his face. He finally found a girl that he actually loves, and she can push him around just as hard as he can push her. Maybe even harder, though he'd never admit it. He kind of lost Finn as a best friend when he lied to him about who the father of Quinn's baby is. He really regrets it, and he doesn't blame Finn for being mad. It's a good reason to hold a grudge, at least. He never quits Glee, and ends up really, really enjoying it. He learns that he has a hell of a voice.

And through all of the betrayal and shock and lies and parties and drinks and pining and wooing and learning and loving and opening up, he really is cooler than he ever was.

Xxx

Finn. Rachel. Kurt. Blaine. Quinn. Puck. Six people whose lives are devoted to music. Six people who dared to dream. Six people who pushed boundaries, who fought for what they believed in, who were brave enough to change. Six people who were brave enough to stay the same. Six people who were brave enough to be themselves.

The young musicians, some of which don't even know each other personally, are about to go for a wild ride involving many of the things that plagued them over the past two years.

Heartbreak. Desire. Love. Lies. And a heck of a lot of singing.

They're six teenagers who will change each other's lives in a way none of them could ever have imagined.

They'll come together, all completely different, and become a unit. None of them will understand how or why it happens, and some don't even understand _what_ happens, but they will know that through everything they go through, they won't have to be brave for themselves anymore.

They'll be strong for each other.


	2. The New Kid

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee**

"I'm coming tomorrow."

"What?"

"I'm transferring. To McKinley."

Kurt squeals a little bit into the phone. It's finally happening. It's only been two months, but school without Blaine has been hard. Yes, there is an anti-bullying club, but that's sort of a joke. He still meets a slushy to the face every once in a while. At least the trashcan dives are over.

"Why?"

"My sister's going to be an incoming freshman next year and she's going there. I asked if I could go too, to help her adjust. I figured I'd just start this year. We live closer to Lima than Westerville anyway. It's only about a twenty minute commute in the mornings."

"That's amazing! Are you sure, though? McKinley isn't Dalton." A little bit of worry creeps into his voice. He only knows snippets of Blaine's story, but from what he knows, it isn't pretty. Or something anyone would wish to relive.

"I've been in private school before, you know. I just didn't have anyone there to stand by me." Kurt feels his cheeks flood with warmth. He changes the subject abruptly before this can get too…mushy.

"When's your first day? Do you need help finding your classes, or your locker or something?"

"Tomorrow. And no, I already looked around. Thanks, though."

"Tomorrow? Blaine, that's awesome! Are you trying out for New Directions?"

"If Rachel doesn't kill me for being a spy, then absolutely." Kurt laughs a little bit at this, and they make plans to meet for coffee in the morning.

Hanging up, Kurt stares at the ceiling, wondering how he got so lucky. Then he laughs at himself for being so cliché. When did this happen to him?

He starts thinking about it, but decides he doesn't care. All that matters is that it did.

Xxx

Blaine steps into the Lima Bean, fidgeting with his scarf. He usually doesn't put much effort into his outfits, but today is different. He isn't at Dalton anymore, with their crisp blazers and unfailing bully policy. He has someone to impress today.

The warmth and smell of the shop assault him and he inhales deeply, smiling. Kurt will be here any second. The barista waves, familiar with the sight of him by now.

Kurt bustles through the large glass doors and a burst of cold air hits the room for just a moment. He searches, standing on his tiptoes, and Blaine waves. Walking over excitedly, Kurt reaches the table, throwing his bag on the plastic patterned to look like wood.

"Hey," Kurt initiates the conversation and he sounds a little bit breathless, "You ready for your first official day at McKinley?"

"Not really. But I don't think I ever will be."

"I was the same way with Dalton. You'll get used to it. And you already know the Glee club."

"Actually, I know Santana, Mercedes, Finn, and Rachel."

"At Rachel's party-"

"I was so drunk I forgot my own name. I barely remember anything from that party, believe me. All I do remember is waking up in your bed and not knowing where I was. Oh, and your dad glaring daggers at me. That was a little bit awkward."

Kurt snorts into his cup. "So you don't really remember anything? Well, I'm sure no one else does either. They've all seen you, though, at sectionals and regionals."

"True. I'm looking forward to meeting them under normal circumstances, though. Even if Finn already thinks I'm a little strange."

"You tried to put your arm around him. He's like over a foot taller than you."

"Thanks for the reminder, I keep forgetting how short I am." Blaine smiles, giving away the sarcasm in his comment, and Kurt just grins back.

"It's not my fault you're vertically challenged." Blaine groans and changes the subject.

"So let me make sure I have the names straight. Rachel, Mercedes, Santana, Finn, Tina, Mike, Lauren, Quinn, Artie, and Brittany?"

"You're missing Noah, but other than that, yeah. But he prefers to go by Puck."

Blaine's eyes shift a little bit at this new information and Kurt starts to worry a little bit. Had he said something wrong? But his worry evaporates as Blaine smoothly transitions to talking about his classes. Kurt reassures him that they're like child's play compared to the Dalton curriculum, but can't get the millisecond of that hidden emotion on Blaine's face out of his mind. Maybe he imagined it.

"We should get going," says Kurt, grabbing Blaine's hand. And he's so happy that he can just do that whenever he wants to. His hand is warm and comforting and as they walk out into the cool air, Kurt thinks that spring is a time for new beginnings. It's never been more true.

He always loved spring. The bite of the air outside, the bright sun, the hints of summer finally coming out of hiding. It's been a long winter.

What he doesn't know is that the spring may turn out to be even longer.

Xxx

Blaine knows what it's like to be an outsider.

He's been there. He's been the kid that makes crowded, noisy places into hallways full of secrets, hushed whispers. He's been the one that nasty rumors are spread about for no reason other than the fact that he won't fight back. He's been the kid that was shoved around after class. He's been the kid who people ignored.

He's also been the new kid in a place full of acceptance. That might have been harder. The claps on the back, the smiles. It all seemed fake to him. Until the day he met the Warblers.

Everything turned real in a matter of seconds.

He got a chance to belong. Not just to belong, but to excel. To be wanted and to be needed.

That was it for him. It was what he'd always wanted. But there was always that empty feeling gnawing at him. He couldn't place it until it was filled. But once it was, he rejoiced.

It's the feeling of knowing you'll follow something to the ends of the earth, that you'll stand by them no matter what. It doesn't make a difference what it is, you'll be there.

And suddenly he understands all of the corny songs about love he's been singing.

They don't seem so corny anymore.

Xxx

"Okay, you know how I said I wasn't nervous? I change my mind."

Kurt smiles fondly at Blaine. It's a rare occasion when he sees the older boy actually nervous about something. Opening the car door, he comes around to Blaine's side and taps on the glass.

"We're going to be late if you don't come out," he says.

Muttering under his breath, Blaine gets out of the car slowly, picking up his messenger bag. They walk in together, but when Blaine tries to take Kurt's hand, he steps away.

"Later," he whispers, and Blaine understands as a hulk of a guy in a letterman jacket glares at them.

"They're just ignorant," he replies, sounding much surer of himself than he really is.

"Well-" Kurt's response is cut off and he watches in horror as Blaine is shoved roughly against the nearest set of lockers.

"Watch it, homo!" cries Azimio over his shoulder, high-fiving another football player. They snicker among themselves as they continue down the hall. It's all Kurt can do not to antagonize them. He doesn't want to make matters worse for Blaine than they already are.

Blaine picks himself up with effort, wincing in pain as he rubs his arm.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have walked in with you." Kurt speaks hurriedly, not caring that people are openly watching them.

"No, it's not your fault. It's theirs. I'm almost happy they know. I wasn't going to hide who I am anyways."

Kurt is about to reply when he hears Finn walking over. "Dude, are you okay? Don't worry about them, they're just jerks."

"Fine, thanks. Do you know where Mr. Turner's room is?" And just like that, everyone seems to forget what just happened. Finn tells a funny story about Mr. Turner, and he walks Blaine to his class. Life goes on.

But Kurt is still thinking. Because if Blaine is that good at deflection, it won't be easy to figure out that look.

Even if it was most likely a coffee-induced hallucination.

Xxx

Blaine's day moves quickly. He finds that he has a member of the Glee club in every one of his classes. He even sits next to Rachel in math and Quinn in history. He admits that it's nice to know someone.

"I'm so glad he placed you alphabetical order rather than in any empty seat. But how can we know you aren't just a replay of a certain incident with a man who shall remain nameless?"

Blaine knows Rachel is talkative, but he forgot how interesting it is to try to have a normal conversation with the girl.

"I'm not exactly sure what you mean by that," he says in an amused tone.

"Well, how do we know you didn't just go out with Kurt in order to steal our set list for Nationals, so you can run off and sell it to Vocal Adrenaline, breaking Kurt's heart on the way?"

Blaine is confused by how specific she is, but answers anyway, "I can assure you that isn't the case. I love Kurt, and I have absolutely no ties to Vocal Adrenaline."

"You'll have to prove your worthiness, obviously, but we might actually let you into New Directions." She pauses for a moment, and speaks again, but her tone is more sincere this time. "You're good for Kurt. You didn't know him before he went to Dalton, but I did. He was hurting. And as his friend, I wasn't there for him. None of us were. He just froze us out and we were too scared to try to get closer. He needs you now. And if you ever hurt him, just know that Kurt has plenty of people willing to defend him."

Blaine, for once, is rendered speechless. He's spoken with Rachel before, but he's never heard something so sincere and selfless come out of her mouth before.

"I would never, ever dream of hurting him."

And it's the truth.

Xxx

On his way to Glee, Blaine is excited. He knows he technically isn't a part of the New Directions yet, but Kurt already set up an audition for him. Singing is the one thing that he's never nervous for. Singing has always been an escape.

"Hey Blaine!" The New Directions greet him loudly as he walks through the doors into the choir room. He vaguely remembers it from the Night of Neglect banquet, but he's only seen it dark and empty. Now it's bursting with energy.

Some people are sitting in the chairs, others are standing around. Brittany is sitting on the piano, legs dangling airily as she talks to Artie.

"Is the new guy a dolphin?" he hears her ask. He looks at her, confused, and decides he must have heard wrong.

Waving confidently at the group, he turns to find Mr. Shue sitting at his desk, scribbling something on a sheet of paper.

"Mr. Shuester? I'm Blaine Anderson, I'm auditioning today?"

"Blaine! It's great to see you. The band's over there, you can tell them when you're ready to sing."

"Great. Is Kurt around?"

Before he gets an answer, he sees the countertenor walk in, talking to the boy Blaine assumes is Puck. Noah. Why does that name seem so familiar? He watches intently, trying to figure it out, when it suddenly hits him like a freight train.

There is absolutely no way this is happening. It can't be. It's a mistake. Noah is a common enough name, isn't it?

"Zach?" Blaine looks up, meeting his eyes, and sees the comprehension dawning.

"Noah." It's a statement, a greeting, but at the same time so much more. This is a choice. He can respond however he wants to.

"But you're Blaine." And the confusion in Puck's voice is evident. Kurt was talking about his boyfriend Blaine wasn't he? Not his boyfriend Zach. But Zach is standing right there, in the flesh.

"And you're Puck." This shouldn't be happening. Blaine left them all behind years ago. He left that school without a trace.

Stalemate.

Xxx

"Blaine, who's Zach?" Kurt asks, concern evident in his expression.

"It doesn't matter right now. I'll talk to you later. Can I audition now?" Everyone has stopped what they were doing, and the room is unnaturally silent. With a nod from Mr. Shuester, Blaine nods to the band.

_Closing time - time for you to go out, go out into the world.  
>Closing time - turn the lights up over every boy and every girl.<br>Closing time - you don't have to go home but you can't stay here._

_I know who I want to take me home.  
>I know who I want to take me home.<br>I know who I want to take me home.  
>Take me home...<em>

_Closing time - time for you to go back to the places you will be from.  
>Closing time - this room won't be open 'til your brothers or your sisters come.<br>So gather up your jackets, and move it to the exits - I hope you have found a friend.  
>Closing time - every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.<em>

_Yeah, I know who I want to take me home.  
>I know who I want to take me home.<br>I know who I want to take me home.  
>Take me home...<em>

_Closing time - time for you to go back to the places you will be from..._

_I know who I want to take me home.  
>I know who I want to take me home.<br>I know who I want to take me home.  
>Take me home...<em>

_Closing time - every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end..._

Kurt is stunned. He's seen Blaine sing so many times before, but this is real. This isn't another Teenage Dream. This is full of emotion, and his face is full of everything he's wanted to say. His eyes are shut, and his eyebrows are crinkled in concentration. Blaine isn't auditioning, Kurt realizes. He knew he would make it virtually no matter what. Blaine is pouring his heart out right here, right now. This is his goodbye to Dalton.

When the song finally trails off, the last chords still hanging in the air, the atmosphere is charged.

Rachel's mouth is literally hanging open, a look of pure shock on her face. Finn is smiling a little bit, and Brittany is grinning brightly. Santana is staring at Blaine as if he's a piece of meat and Mercedes whistles lowly. All of New Directions is in awe.

All except for Puck. Because Puck is sitting there, stationary, with an expression of complete and utter indecision. Sure, the guy can sing. But can he put the past in the past?

And can he keep it there?

Xxx

Mr. Shue breaks the silence. He starts to clap slowly. "Wow, Blaine, that was incredible! So heartfelt! I'm pretty sure I'm speaking for the whole club when I welcome you to the New Directions!"

Kurt pops out of his seat and runs over to tackle Blaine in a tight hug. "You were amazing," he whispers fiercely.

"Thanks," he replies, smiling.

But the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Xxx

"You're really talented." Blaine looks up to find Quinn talking to him. It's unexpected, but not unwelcome. He doesn't know too much of her story, just about her baby and her fall from popularity. If he's being honest, though, she doesn't look any worse for the wear.

"Thanks. I guess I had a lot of emotion to get out."

"We could all tell." When Blaine looks scared, she elaborates. "We all sing for the same reasons. We're hurting, or happy, or in love. It doesn't even matter. But if we have an emotion that strong in us, it shows. I hope it's joy, for your sake and for Kurt's. I don't know if our club could handle any more drama right now."

He pauses for a moment, thinking over what she said. She's right, he supposes. It doesn't matter _what_ you're feeling, it's how you feel it. And he felt something so strongly inside of him that it came out. He just can't put a name to it.

"I hope so too," he says.

To her credit, she doesn't ask about it. She just nods, smiling to herself mysteriously.

Blaine decides he likes Quinn.

He likes her a lot.

Xxx

"What are you doing here?" Blaine walks up the empty hallway to see Puck leaning against the wall of lockers, arms crossed in front of him.

"You can't be serious, Noah. I'm here to be with Kurt. He changed my life, and it's absolutely none of your business. I'm surprised I never put two and two together when Kurt talked about you."

Blaine heard awful stories about Puck, but never realized Noah and Puck were one and the same. Now it all makes more sense.

"Hey, that was different. I didn't even know him then. Now I do, and he's pretty cool, even he is kind of a diva."

Pretty cool? Blaine is furious.

"You threw him in _dumpsters_! I can't even…I can't even begin to fathom that. You tormented him for years. You broke him down over and over again and he just held his head high. You were a complete and total asshole to him for who knows how long and then he just forgave you." His voice is quivering with rage.

"I know I was wrong. But I didn't come here to talk about Kurt."

"I did." Blaine's voice is dark and flat. This isn't about Blaine anymore.

"Zach, come on-"

That's the final straw. Blaine left Zach behind at his old school. Zach was a wall to hide behind. Zach was scared, so he left. Blaine isn't Zach anymore.

"I'm Blaine now. And you, Puck, would do well to leave me _and_ my boyfriend alone for the time being."

As Blaine storms off in one direction and Puck in the other, neither of them notices the slight figure picking up a forgotten textbook in the empty classroom right behind the place they were arguing.

To the person in the room, none of it makes sense. The accusations, the fury, the familiarity between two people who barely even know each other. But she's determined to figure it out.

And she will, or her name isn't Rachel Barbra Berry.

Xxx

"Blaine? What happened between you and Puck?" Kurt asks quietly. They're lying on his bed with the door wide open (per Burt's request) and Kurt is idly playing with his boyfriend's hair.

"Nothing, why?" And Blaine sounds so perfectly innocent that, for a moment, Kurt wants to believe him. And he tries.

"It just seemed like you knew each other. And he called you Zach…?"

"It must've been a misunderstanding," Blaine lies smoothly, all the while wishing he didn't have to. But it's like Quinn said. The club doesn't need more drama. And neither does Kurt.

"You know you can tell me anything, right? If you need to talk, I'll be here."

He almost tells him. He comes so close to just breaking down and crying and telling the whole story. But there's a time and a place for that. It definitely isn't now.

"I know," he says, "There just isn't anything to tell."

And they move on to the latest cover of Vogue, both pretending that Blaine was telling the truth the whole time.

Xxx

"Hey man, what's up?" Blaine has to literally look up to find the source of the voice.

"Hi Finn. Nothing really, you?"

"Um…I have a math test later. I think I might fail it, though." Blaine almost laughs at his tone, but decides against it.

"Do you need some help? I have free period third."

"Yeah, me too! That'd be great! Thanks, man. I owe you one."

"Yeah, anytime." And he really does mean it. Finn's a good guy and Blaine enjoys spending time with him. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Finn lives with Kurt and therefore knows more about him than Blaine himself on some topics.

"Hey, this is a little random, but are you and Kurt still doing okay? Cuz it kind of seems like you guys are a little, I don't know, weird lately."

"No, we're totally fine," he says firmly, and Finn just nods.

"See you in third, then."

"Bye, Finn."

Blaine walks into first hour knowing that he needs to talk to Kurt. If confused, oblivious Finn had noticed something was wrong, then he needed to make things right again.

Rather than taking notes on chemistry, Blaine pulled out his songbook. He hadn't written lyrics since his first days at Dalton, but the sight of it is like an old friend. He'd found it in his bag in the morning and didn't have the heart to take it out.

Opening to a blank page, he uncapped his pen and started scratching out a song.

_The past comes back to haunt me_

_Though I thought that I got out_

_Put me out of my misery_

_Once you know what it's about_

_Can't find the words to tell you_

_I just don't know where to start_

_Though my happiness is brand new_

_I still have an old, broken heart_

_They say that some people meet again_

_After a long and painful time away_

_Some things were left unresolved_

_But got dredged up on another day_

Frustrated, he tears out the page, crumpling it into a ball. Sure, the song is all right, but it doesn't explain anything. He can't _feel_.

Maybe he's going about it the wrong way. He shouldn't focus on the pain. He should focus on the good in his life. He should focus on the one thing he really got out of all his years at Dalton. He should focus on the reason he uprooted his life.

He thinks of those eyes, the ones that saw through him. The eyes that looked past the charming exterior that was more of a wall than anything else. He starts to write feverishly once the idea takes hold, not even looking up.

_The shifting of the waters_

_The crashing of the waves_

_I see you in the ocean,_

_I see you in dripping caves_

_The flow is all around me,_

_I try so hard to hear_

_But I just can't understand you_

_Though you're speaking loud and clear_

_And you, you are like the changing tides_

_You, you're keeping me from switching sides_

_Because it's you, it's you now and it will always be_

_I know, I know I can't resist the colors of the sea_

_The calm and steady waters are keeping me still_

_But the salt-filled air is chilling and I'm waiting until_

_You let me go_

_You calm your flow_

_And you release me from your grip_

_One minute I can see you_

_The next you're someone new_

_I thought that I could make it_

_That I'd get out with you_

_But fate and fortune shunned us_

_Out of love or jealousy_

_What difference can it make if you're_

_Already leaving me?_

_And you, you are like the changing tides_

_You, you're keeping me from switching sides_

_Because it's you, it's you now and it will always be_

_I know, I know I can't resist the colors of the sea_

_The calm and steady waters are keeping me still_

_But the salt-filled air is chilling and I'm waiting until_

_You let me go_

_You calm your flow_

_And you release me from your grip_

Blaine doesn't know when the song started changing subjects, but it took on a life of its own. He doesn't even know who it's about; he just knows that it feels right. And it did. Something in him released when he wrote those words.

He reads them over again. Another time. Again. Each time the words make less sense to him, yet they feel more right with each read.

"Mr. Anderson, I'm assuming you don't have the answer?" asks Mr. Heron lazily. Blaine flushes a deep scarlet when he realizes that the teacher had been trying to get his attention.

"No, sorry. I'll try to pay more attention."

"You do that."

But even as the teacher watches him, he looks over the page again.

He really needs to talk to Kurt; maybe he'll help to find a meaning in this tangled mess of feelings.

But even as he thinks this, he knows it won't happen. He folds over the page, carefully replacing the book. He doesn't want Kurt to know his messed up past. He doesn't want to be judged by the entire Glee club.

All he wants is to feel normal for once in his life. At Dalton, he was close. But he wants to be normal as himself. Not as the dapper, charming Blaine Warbler who everyone seemed to know. Because no one really did. He wants his relationship with Kurt to last without any false pretenses. He wants to get closer to New Directions because they seem like genuinely loving people. Not because the Glee club will make him popular. It won't.

Even if it hurts him, he wants all of it. He _wants_ the locker shoves and slushy facials and demeaning slurs thrown at him if it means he can be who he was meant to be.

Even if he doesn't exactly know who that is.


	3. Conversations

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee**

He walks through the door, with backpack in hand, not really knowing what to expect. Kurt's seemed a little different ever since yesterday when Puck called Blaine some weird name.

"Kurt? You home?" he calls, voice echoing.

"Obviously I'm home. You had football practice until six, I had Glee until three." Finn just sighs. Kurt's in one of his moods. And when he's in a mood, Kurt likes to use words that Finn doesn't understand, which is totally not cool. He also likes to be extremely sarcastic.

"Yeah," he says, for lack of a better reply.

"Has Blaine told you anything regarding him and Puck?"

Finn takes a moment. Regarding. Right. "No, he hasn't. I asked him if something was up but he said everything was fine. Why?"

"No reason," Kurt says airily, picking up his magazine once again. He mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like "hallucinations" but Finn doesn't ask. Instead he just walks back into the kitchen, starving. Football practice isn't for the faint of heart. Or the faint of stomach, for that matter.

"I'm making a sandwich, do you want something?"

"When have I ever wanted a sandwich?" Kurt calls back, voice echoing through the empty house.

Finn just shakes his head, smiling to himself a little bit, and picks up the bread.

Xxx

Finn doesn't really believe in fate. He thinks that it's his choice whether he does something or not, and if fate really is real, then technically he has no choices. And if he has no choices…this is where he usually stops. It makes his head hurt just to think about all of it.

There is no fate. That's the end of it.

Well, there was no fate. Until he met a certain Rachel Berry. Because after all they went through, how is he still thinking about her? Sometimes he feels helpless. Other times he wants to bang his head against a wall repeatedly trying to get her out of his head (Okay, he did that, but it was only once. And Kurt found him before he did any serious damage).

But most of the time he just wants to kiss her.

Xxx

"Hey man!" Finn turns to see Puck of all people walking over towards him. As if it were two years ago and their biggest problems involved football. As if the drama somehow evaporated.

"Hi," he says hesitantly.

"So the new zombie movie is coming out Friday, want to go see it? Apparently it's like, super gory and we get to see people's heads fly off and stuff."

"Sweet! I just need to ask my mom, but yeah!" He's shocked at how quickly he responds. It's just like old times.

Finn never really forgave Puck for Baby gate. He never tried. Because it seemed like that was something you couldn't get past. A lie that huge was just wrong. Betrayal of the worst kind. That doesn't happen between best friends. Not friends like Finn and Puck had been.

Can he forgive, though? The conversation was easy, natural. Huh. Finn thinks that maybe their friendship isn't so lost after all.

He isn't going to be trusting Puck with any deep, dark secrets any time soon, but it's kind of comforting to think that maybe they can move past everything.

Maybe they can go back to being FinnandPuck.

Being Finn was starting to get lonely.

Xxx

"¿Estás listo?"

"Um. Si?"

Rachel shakes her head. "Finn, you have to get into it! You have to feel the Latin blood coursing through your veins. Pretend you're in Spain, and the flamenco dancers are coming out, and you're dancing with them, and one of them talks to you. Answer them!"

"Wait, what?" Finn flounders. "Rachel, no offense, but I don't think that's gonna help me much."

"Of course it is! Come on, when have I ever failed you? You have a B, Finn! You're so close to an A! Can't you feel it?"

"I haven't had an A since like third grade, Rach. And that was in PE."

"But your mom would be so proud!" Her big, brown eyes stare up at him pleadingly and he finally gives in.

"Okay, okay. What exactly am I doing?"

"Close your eyes." He complies. "Now picture yourself in Paraguay-"

"That's in Africa, right?"

"No, it's in South America." South America? Isn't that like, the lower part of America?

"Like Texas?" he asks hopefully, but she's already answering.

"No, like Brazil and Peru and Chile and Ecuador."

"I'm confused. Where's Texas, then? Is it not in the South?"

"Okay, nevermind. Just pretend you are somewhere that speaks Spanish."

He nods, brows furrowed in concentration. Don't they speak Spanish in that one Taco Bell down the road? That should work, shouldn't it? Confident in his choice, he imagines the environment. All of the food is starting to make him hungry, though. He isn't sure how long he can keep up the concentration. Luckily, Rachel cuts in.

"Then, a beautiful dancer comes up to you-"

"Wait, wait, wait. A dancer? That doesn't even make sense!"

Rachel just sighs, shaking her head, but there is a small smile on her lips that makes Finn think that he isn't so difficult after all. It doesn't matter what Puck or Kurt or Quinn say, all he needs is to be right here, right now, with the one person whose opinion actually matters.

"Let's move on to conjugations of irregulars, then."

He groans. Maybe not here exactly…

Xxx

"Can't you just leave us alone?" Finn creeps up silently, hearing an angry voice shouting across the hall.

"Dude, it's not like I'm trying to stalk you or something, just be cool. Kurt and I were getting along fine until you showed up."

He peeks around the corner and almost jumps at what he sees. He's never actually witnessed Blaine angry before. Needless to say, he never wants to get on the guy's bad side. He might be small, but he's glaring a hole through Puck, the most badass guy Finn knows. And Puck is backing off.

"Don't even go there." Blaine's expression is black and his tone is low and deadly.

Puck raises his arms up in front of him, surrendering. "I don't get why you feel the need to even bring him into this. We put all of that crap behind us a long time ago. Does he even know about your past?"

"I haven't felt the need to tell him." Blaine has the decency to look uncomfortable.

"Dude, seriously?"

"Yes, seriously. Now get out of my personal life before I make you." His voice is perfectly calm. Finn can't decide if that's scarier or not.

Puck just shakes his head slowly, backing out of the room. He almost bumps into Finn, who holds his breath, but doesn't seem to notice.

Things just got a whole lot more complicated.

Xxx

He spots her from a distance, standing at her locker alone. She's like that a lot lately. Alone, he means. He can't help but think it's mainly his fault, but he knows he did the right thing letting her go. It was never going to work. That whole string thing Miss Sylvester was talking about? It made up his mind.

Her blonde hair falls loosely behind her ear as she pushes it back and he just watches. Two years ago he would have been at her side, pushing the hair back for her. Two years ago he would've been drooling over her hot body. Now he just sees her for what she is. A friend. A girl who is afraid of confrontation, yet thrives on it. A queen bee with no followers.

It's sad, he decides. He kind of wishes he could help her. But he's been down that road too many times to make the same mistakes.

People think Finn is dumb. He really isn't, though. Sometimes it takes him a while to get things, and sometimes he misses things, but he isn't dumb. He understands people.

He just wishes someone would understand _him_ for once.

Xxx

Finn is confused.

If he were to tell someone this, he would most likely be met by a sarcastic comment of some sort. "No, really?"

But he is. Nothing makes sense about Blaine and Puck, and Kurt's been acting all weird lately. Rachel has been following Puck around, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't just a little bit jealous. Quinn is the only one who seems to be acting normally enough, but she was never one to get too involved in other people's business. There's also the fact that she has no one to gossip with.

But seriously, why is everything so weird lately? Ever since Blaine came from that prep school everything has been messed up.

Speaking of Blaine, Finn almost misses the curly brown mop weaving its way through the crowd.

"Hey! Blaine! Wait up!" Maybe if he talks to Blaine more, he can figure out why he's causing so many issues between everyone.

"Hi Finn, what's up?"

"So, um, ever since you came here, people have been acting weird. Do you know why?"

"Weird how?"

"Well Kurt's been all quiet and Rachel's been following Puck around like some sort of spy, and you and Puck are all mad at each other…"

He blanches, shifting awkwardly, and Finn knows he just figured something out.

"I kind of heard you guys yelling…"

"Please, just leave it alone for now. We had some past issues but they're over now. We're working on it. Just don't tell anyone until it's resolved."

Finn nods good-naturedly. It can't be that big of a deal if Blaine thinks it'll just blow over, can it?

"Thanks Finn. Oh, and you don't owe me one anymore," Blaine smiles. Finn grins back, and they part ways.

Finn thinks he could really like Blaine. He could like him a lot.

Xxx

"Since the assignment for this week was forgiveness, I've decided to go with a song that I feel _truly_ expresses my feelings."

Rachel steps up to where the microphone is already set up and looks back at the band. With a flick of her hair, they start to play behind her. Finn is mesmerized, barely even registering the country music beginning to play softly in the background.

She isn't singing to him today, though. She's staring right at the blonde ex-cheerleader who is starting to look uncomfortable in her seat.

_Forgive, sounds good  
>Forget, I'm not sure I could<br>They say time heals everything  
>But I'm still waiting<em>

_I'm not ready to make nice_  
><em>I'm not ready to back down<em>  
><em>I'm still mad as hell and<em>  
><em>I don't have time to go round and round and round<em>  
><em>It's too late to make it right<em>  
><em>I probably wouldn't if I could<em>  
><em>'Cause I'm mad as hell<em>  
><em>Can't bring myself to do what it is you think I should<em>

_What it is you think I should_

_Forgive, sounds good_  
><em>Forget, I'm not sure I could<em>  
><em>They say time heals everything<em>  
><em>But I'm still waiting<em>

"Excellent rendition of that song Rachel, but that wasn't exactly what I was going for with this week's assignment," Mr Schue says, looking a bit nervous.

"I'm sorry, but I felt like it described my situation perfectly. I can redo it, if you'd like. I have the perfect setup for this song I heard the other day…"

"That won't be necessary," he cuts in quickly, interrupting her. Finn catches her eye and flashes her a thumbs up, though, and the hurt expression on her face fades into a gracious smile. "Is anybody else ready with their song?"

"I am." No one expects Blaine to step up in his first week at McKinley, but he's already walking to the front, grabbing his guitar where he apparently placed it in the beginning of the class. He doesn't look at the band. He doesn't need them.

When he starts to sing the song he composed himself, Finn is surprised. There's no doubt this song is original, and he's singing right at Kurt. But at the same time, this song isn't for Kurt. It's for Blaine.

Finn can't really wrap his head around all of it, so he's content to sit and listen. Once again, Blaine seems to pour everything into his singing. Finn needs to brush up if he wants to keep lead soloist. But even as he thinks this, he pushes it to the back of his mind. Blaine seems to be going through a lot right now. He needs a friend, not a competitor.

Even if he did start it.

Xxx

After Blaine's performance, Glee gets out early. Finn certainly doesn't mind. It's pouring outside, so football is canceled, and he can actually go home for once in his life. It's almost foreign, walking with people not on the team.

The way to the car is relatively quiet. Blaine and Kurt are talking in low voices to each other, and Finn feels a sudden surge of fondness towards the two.

He hangs back a little bit, walking next to them. He must look like a giant, and an outsider, but he can't really be brought to care. It's like they're a family, and it's not like family members all look the same, right?

"What was that song for?" Kurt asks quietly, and Finn is happy he does. He's been dying to know, but it really wouldn't be right for Finn to ask. It seemed so…personal.

"It was supposed to be for you, but it kind of took on a life of its own halfway through. Was it okay? It didn't really have anything to do with forgiveness…"

"It was perfect." Kurt places a kiss on Blaine's cheek, and Finn almost looks away. He feels like he's intruding, but the pair continue to ignore him.

He wishes he had something like that. And he knows he can. He just needs to man up and tell her how he feels. The problem is, he's terrified. He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know how she'll react. Is she over him? Should he sing?

He steps into the back seat of the car, head banging against the door frame. Mumbling a curse, he sits down. His legs are cramped and he tells Kurt to scoot the seat up. He's uncomfortable and about to complain when he sees Blaine whisper something into his brother's ear. They both laugh at a joke he can't hear, but Finn laughs along anyways, feeling lighter than he has in a long time.

Kurt and Blaine can sit in the front today.

Xxx

"Finn? Noah's at the door!" His mom's shout echoes through the halls and he hears Kurt and Blaine moving in the next room. Rather than walking downstairs, he decides to see what they're doing. He hears another noise and turns the corner.

Curious, he walks over and peeks through the door. He has to resist the urge to shield his eyes and cry out in pain at the sight that lies before him. It burns.

"Aaaauughhhhh!" he cries.

"Finn!" Kurt's voice is shrill and embarrassed and his cheeks are flaming rapidly.

"It's not my fault! I didn't think you guys would be…you know!" he gestures desperately with his hand at the two boys who both happen to be shirtless, tangled up in the bed sheets. They're on opposite sides of the bed now, but it isn't too hard to imagine what they were doing- okay, not going there.

"I'm sure you don't want to keep Puck waiting." Blaine speaks up for the first time, and Finn remembers that he's going to a movie. Happy to be leaving that room (He knows he'll be mentally scarred) he almost runs down the stairs.

"Hey," he says, opening the door widely. Puck is standing there, hands in his pockets.

"Hey."

"So the movie got awesome reviews."

"I know, I looked it up. Apparently someone gets their head blown off within like fifteen seconds."

"Awesome!" And the awkwardness evaporates as quickly as it had come. They randomly share stories about various zombie movies they've seen lately, and Finn is surprised at how naturally they slip back into their old routine. Being a best friend isn't something that fades easily, he guesses.

"Do you have your Glee assignment ready?"

"No…" Oops. Finn kind of forgot completely about the assignment for the week. Not that Mr. Schue would mind too much, but he kind of prides himself on not missing assignments. Crap. Now what?

"Want to do a song with me?"

"What song?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I was thinking of doing an apology song? I was thinking and I realized I kinda screwed up a lot of people's lives. And if you tell anyone about this Hudson, I'll kill you, so you know."

"That's actually a really good idea. I kind of need to apologize too."

He doesn't know why he said that, but Finn notices how right it feels. He needs to apologize for all of the things he never apologized for. For hurting Rachel so many times. For not realizing he couldn't fix things with Quinn. For never trying to forgive Puck. For putting Kurt through so much crap the past few years. Hell, even for walking in on those two making out today.

Finn has screwed up a lot, but he wants to try to fix everything.

This song might just be a way to start.

Xxx

He has an idea. It's probably stupid, but he thinks it's worth a shot. He'll start with the easiest one and work his way up. Pulling out a pen and a sheet of paper, he furrows his brow in concentration and starts to write.

_Dear Kurt,_

_I'm really sorry for everything I did before we were brothers. I shouldn't have thrown you in dumpsters and slushied you and yelled at you. I hope you can forgive me._

_-Finn_

Well that wasn't so bad, was it? It needs something, though. He can't just send it like that, it sounds like a child wrote it. What else can he say, though?

_Dear Kurt,_

_I'm really sorry for everything I did before we were brothers. I shouldn't have thrown you in dumpsters and slushied you and yelled at you. I was wrong and I was stupid. I'm really happy for you and Blaine now. I'm sorry I kind of walked in on you guys…I hope you can forgive me. And I think your voice is really good.  
><em>

_-Finn_

Perfect. He smiles, feeling some weight lifting off of his chest. Maybe Mr. Schue had a point. Finn didn't actually listen to the lesson, but the whole forgiveness thing might actually be a good idea after all.

With a spring in his step, he walks off to find Kurt.

He has something to deliver.

Xxx

_I thought of a song –Puck_

_Cool. What is it? –Finn_

_It's called Sorry by Daughtry -Puck_

_Is it any good? –Finn_

_Duh. I picked it –Puck_

_Ok…when are we rehearsing? –Finn_

_Tomorrow at free period. Choir room –Puck_

_K –Finn_

Xxx

"Puck and I actually had something ready," Finn says, standing awkwardly. He feels the gazes of all of the club members resting on them incredulously, but Mr. Schue just smiles like he always does, gesturing and telling them that they have the floor.

Usually Finn thinks it's kind of corny, but today he finds the routine comforting. It helps to lower his suddenly racing heartbeat.

People might not guess it, but Finn is always nervous when he sings. It's gotten a lot better in the past few years that he's been in Glee, but it still scares him. If he can't just let go and sing with all of the abandon of people like Rachel and Kurt, who always seem so unbelievably sure of their talent, how can he ever be worth anything? It's slowly lowered from a petrifying fear, one that made him freeze on the spot, to a sort of unrest. A quiet predator, waiting for him to slip up. It eats away at his confidence and makes his notes pitchier, his dancing clumsier, and his mind more scattered. But even as it does this, it gives him adrenaline.

If being nervous is what it takes to feel the rush of emotion he feels when he's on that stage, he'll take it over a steady pulse any day.

"This song is for everyone whose lives Finn and I made suck, like, ever. Yeah." Puck may have never been eloquent, but Finn can tell that he's speaking from the heart. So, it seems, can the other people sitting around the room. Quinn has gone from braiding her own hair idly to sitting up straight, watching intently. Others have shifted too, but Finn only notices her. She's the one Puck hurt the most. His apology is for her.

Puck has a guitar and Finn starts with the microphone. He starts thinking he will sing to Kurt, but realizes that he's been forgiven a long time ago.

Locking eyes with Rachel, he lets the words pour out. It's nice, he thinks. Not the way they describe it in books. It isn't as if the world is fading out around them, and he isn't getting lost in her eyes. They just connect.

He thinks that's better than any lame cliché someone could come up with. They get each other. They don't have a conversation with their eyes, and they don't feel something stirring deep inside of them.

There's a moment when you realize that someone has been waiting for you a long time, and there's a moment you realize you've been waiting forever. They don't exclaim their love to the world, and they don't change anything about themselves or each other. They don't need to.

They just _are_.

She smiles at him shyly, but his heart doesn't melt, or grow three sizes to big. It just pounds, racing, filling him with adrenaline he didn't know he had. And sure, his heart feels…nice, he guesses.

But it isn't his heart that's flipping out right now.

His thoughts are whirling around, flying at speeds that make his head hurt. Figuratively, of course. Because his head is anything but hurting. He wants to jump around, to scream to the world, to sing.

Oh, wait. He is singing. Internally, he curses the small part of his mind still focused on logic. So what if he's singing?

He'll make this song for _her_.

Xxx

There are a lot of things that confuse Finn.

Sometimes he has to call Kurt to help him turn on the oven. Other times he doesn't quite understand what the heck a teacher is talking about. He doesn't get why brown and black don't go together. He doesn't know why he gave up on Puck. He doesn't get why it's so easy to give up on something, period. When he does his homework, his brow crumples in frustration, and when he picks teams for Fantasy Football he wants to know how it's fair that his best quarterback got injured after one week. He has absolutely no idea how Blaine's manners are so perfect, and he's at a loss when it comes to dancing.

Dancing really confuses Finn.

But Finn used to pride himself in reading people. He used to think that the fact that everyone thinks he's oblivious was an asset. He used to think they were all wrong. That he had some superpower hidden from the world. That he was secretly brilliant. That he wasn't so stupid after all.

Now he's trying to figure out if they were right the whole time.

Finn isn't an idiot, he know that much, but is he really as slow as everyone seems to think? Is he really that lost all the time?

He doesn't think so.

He sees things. Not like, psychic things, because that would be creepy, but normal things. He can see that Puck and Lauren are falling apart without even having to think about it. She never wanted to be tied down. Puck is just another phase she's growing out of. He sees that he'll be brokenhearted.

When he hears the news that she's moving away, he isn't surprised.

He can also see that some couples from high school will make the distance. He likes to think that his brother's relationship is going especially well, and the way that Tina and Mike look at each other.

His heart breaks for Santana. He sees how she looks at Brittany, and he sees the way she looks back.

It's not the same.

Because he's seen her with Artie. The light in her eyes, the spark in her step, it isn't there with Santana. They're just best friends. Friends who love each other in a way that's so complicated it makes his head spin.

But even if it does, he sees it.

He also sees the way Rachel watches him when she thinks no one is looking. He sees the longing, the desire. He feels it rolling off of her in waves. But he also feels the restraint, the sternness of the withdrawal. He feels her recoil when he looks back. He sees the way she dreams about New York, Broadway. Everything Kurt is always talking about at dinner, when his voice starts to grow more animated and his hand gestures bigger, more complex. He sees the way she dreams. She dreams big.

A whole lot bigger than a six foot, awkward, small town guy with a crooked smile and spontaneity complex (and no, he didn't look it up after Kurt yelled it at him. He never looks up wordy insults. Ever. Why would he?).

She dreams a heck of a lot bigger than him.

And for some reason he can't explain, it's breaking him. It's tearing him apart because he can't do a damn thing about it. No matter how hard he tries, they never last, and it scares him. It scares him that she has this power over him and that he doesn't have it over her. Her determination, while incredible (it's one of the things constantly drawing him towards her), is keeping them apart, and he's terrified.

Because no matter how many times he throws a football or sings on a stage, he'll always be dreaming about her.


	4. Secrets

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee**

"_Leave me alone! You guys are nothing but bullies!" He sprints away, looking behind his back. We turn to Evan, waiting for him to tell us what to do. We've been doing that a lot lately. He's like the unspoken leader of the group. _

"_Grab him," he says, sounding bored._

_I run, along with a couple other guys on the team and pin Zach's arms behind his back. We lead him over near the huge, swinging doors to the inside of the school. He starts to squirm and protest, but the kid's a runt. I almost feel sorry for him. _

"_Stop it!" His voice is actually lower than expected, and he doesn't look gay at all. Not that I would know. I just assume that Evan did his research. He's the one who goes to school with the kid, not me._

_My cousin steps up really close to his face. "Listen Zach. Your prancing around the halls is getting old. We," he gestures to all of us, "are getting real sick of it. So you're a princess. Congratulations! But that doesn't mean you have go shout it out to the world. Believe it or not, people like us don't give a crap about homos like you." He punctuates each of the last three words with a stab to his chest. Zach winces._

"_I didn't choose it!"_

"_Like hell you didn't choose it." And with that, he places a punch directly at his stomach. Zach would've doubled over if we hadn't been there to hold him up._

_As Evan throws his arm back, undoubtedly to strike again, Zach's voice turns pleading. "Not- my- face," he pants._

"_Oh, so the little fairy doesn't want to mess up his perfect little face?"_

"_No- my parents…" It only takes a moment for us to understand what he's trying to say._

"_They don't know their son likes boys?" He grins gleefully._

_Zach just shakes his head miserably, tears still welling up from the pain in his stomach. For a fourteen-year-old kid, he's pretty tough; I'll give him that. I'd even call him badass if he weren't, well, gay._

"_Well, well, well. Too scared to come out of the closet? Come with me guys." He starts walking away, and we follow, half-dragging, half-leading Zach down the empty halls. We finally reach the janitor's closet, and Zach realizes what's going to happen. Protesting, he starts flailing again._

"_You don't deserve to come out of _any_ closet, then. You're pathetic." And with that, Zach gets thrown in and the door is locked securely behind him. We hear fists pounding on the door and cries for help, but we just walk calmly away._

_Until I come back an hour later._

"_Zach?"_

_I strain my ears, and finally hear something. He's crying, and I can hear him sniffling from the other side of the door._

"_N-Noah? What are you doing?" he asks as I open the closet, letting him out. His eyes are red and swollen and his hands are bleeding. I avert my eyes._

"_Don't tell anyone about this." I try to sound stern._

_He just nods, turning away. He starts jogging, but stops to bend over his injured stomach. Mine turns over on itself._

So what if I let the kid out? I'm still totally badass. The only reason I even came back was because I'm claustrophobic. I tried imagining any amount of time locked in the darkness and figured I'd give the midget a break.

I never thought I'd even see him again.

Xxx

Puck wakes up, startled and disoriented. His dream wasn't a dream. It was a memory. One he's been trying to forget since it ever happened. His cousin Evan was always a total jerk, and Zach had been his favorite victim for a while. It's hard to think of Zach as Blaine.

Blaine, who is charming and confident and going out with Kurt. He's hurt both of them before. But Kurt forgave him. Blaine, not so much.

Puck gets it, kind of. It isn't a surprise that Z- Blaine- is mad. But it was so long ago. Can't he just let the past be the past?

Puck is trying. He's trying really hard. He wants to make things better with Finn because, come on, they were like best friends. He wants to make things better with Quinn because he thinks he might have actually loved her. And he wants to make things better with Blaine because Blaine is a good guy. He deserves it.

He's going to make things better for himself.

Xxx

Love is a funny thing.

People say it makes you happy. It makes the world brighter. And for Puck, for at least a little while, it did. He had a hot girlfriend who actually liked him too and she wasn't afraid to push him around. He liked that. A lot.

But people always forget to mention the aftermath of things.

"I'm moving to Los Angeles. Ohio couldn't handle the Zizes."

It's one of the only times Puck's ever been silenced. He can't seem to make the words come out of his mouth at all. It's like there's something clogging up his throat. All he can do is hope that when he can make sound, it doesn't sound like a dying whale.

He refuses to acknowledge the fact that he's close to tears.

They make out as a way of saying goodbye, but his heart isn't in it. And it's saying something about the way she affected him when he's thinking about his heart while he's kissing someone as hot as she is. It kind of scares him, if he's being honest. He doesn't really know how to go on.

Not that she would care. From the looks of it, she's long past that stage.

When he gets home, he stays in his room for several hours. When he comes out with red, swollen eyes, he blames it on his zombie movie marathon.

His mother and sister never ask any questions about what happened, instead busying themselves with household chores. His mom makes a halfhearted comment about how many zombie movies he watches, and can't she get some help around here?

He just nods, but he doesn't look up from his feet.

It isn't the first time he's dreamed of running away.

Xxx

"Noah Puckerman, you have some explaining to do." Before he answers, he mutters something incoherent about midgets and brunettes and how annoying they make the world.

"I don't owe you anything, even if you are Jewish."

"Noah, that doesn't have to do with anything. I appreciate the fact that we are of the same faith, but that is not relevant to this conversation. I was here to ask you about a certain recently converted Warbler."

"What about him?" Puck is starting to get annoyed. It's kind of hard to forget about the incidents when everyone keeps trying to bring them up.

"I overheard a conversation you two were having and you seemed to be extremely familiar with each other. And who is Zach?"

"I don't think that's any of your business." His stare turns cold, cold enough to make her blood turn to ice. He knows its power. He's also mildly impressed when she continues to press after only a moment's hesitation.

"It became my business when he joined New Directions. I can't have this throwing off the group dynamic."

"We haven't even sung anything as a group yet," he points out, sick of having the same conversation every day with different people. He misses the times when all he had to think about was getting in bed with Santana…he's jolted back into reality by her response.

"We will."

Puck wants to throw his hands up in frustration, and very nearly does, when he stops. An idea starts to form. At first it seems ridiculous. He isn't that good of an actor anyways, though he can't speak for Zach.

_Blaine_, he corrects himself. And now that he thinks about it, Blaine must be an awesome actor. Otherwise Kurt and Finn and Rachel would have eaten him alive by now. He knows how annoying it is to be the center of gossip (trust him, he's definitely been there) and he knows how hard it can be to keep the truth under wraps. What he doesn't get is why he's keeping the secret.

Why doesn't he just play the victim? He could get away with it so easily because, well, he _was_ the victim. Puck was a jerk. He sees that now. But Blaine is continuing to hide his secret. Sure, he threatened Puck a few times, but it was all behind closed doors. No one heard them talki-

Wait. What did Rachel say? _I overheard a conversation…_

With a start he realizes she's still standing there, waiting impatiently. Her foot is tapping loudly on the linoleum floor and her hands are on her hips. She's looking up at him expectantly.

"What did you hear?" His voice is somewhat strangled, and he wants to kill her for making him sound any less confident and terrifying than he usually is. His reputation will go down the drain if he doesn't get back on track.

She worries her lip, glancing to the side.

"Just that he's unhappy with you about a disagreement in the past, and that he doesn't want you around Kurt anymore. I'd be happy to hear you out if you'd like to talk. I took a teen therapy class over the summer," he rolls his eyes. "Don't look so surprised! It's my fallback in case my talents aren't recognized on Broadway."

He doesn't even want to think about answering that. Therapy? Instead of replying, he comes up with a way to get out of the situation.

"Um, I have to go."

"Class?" she asks eagerly, seeming almost excited. But it's not like Puck is about to change his ways. Class is boring. Puck isn't.

He laughs shortly. "You've got a lot to learn, Berry," he chuckles, sauntering off. He leaves her there, looking at the ground, and kind of feels bad. She should know he's not planning on going to class, obviously, but he knows that his words had a lot of meaning in them. Continuing on down the empty hallway, he can make out the faint sound of a sniffle behind him.

Thinking back, he remembers how tough Berry has had it. Half of it was his fault. The slushies, the fake going out, the way he helped ruin her chances with Finn. He's just adding insult to injury as he steps farther and farther away from her and his past.

And the more he thinks about it, the better he feels. He's leaving it all behind. He's turning over a new leaf if it kills him. And honestly, it just might.

He doesn't look back once.

Xxx

The idea's been haunting him. Can they pull it off? The more he talks to and watches Blaine, the more Puck thinks they have a chance. He got the idea out of one of those sci-fi movies where the future is all weird. Basically, the people all agree to pretend something never happened. Once enough people truly believe that, it's like it never happened at all.

Because it isn't the past that's haunting Puck. The past is over, gone, finished.

It's the memories.

Xxx

"You're insane."

"Come on, just give it a shot," Puck asks, his tone pleading. All he needs is for Blaine to see, just for a second, the way this could work out.

"There is no way I am lying to my friends and family because of some scheme you're determined will work. It'll never even get past the first stage."

"You aren't lying right now? I see Kurt asking you like every day if there's something going on between us."

He has a pained look on his face and Puck can tell he's gotten through, at least a little bit. He continues eagerly, "Just try it. And then it'll be over and we can go back to being kind of strangers that sort of know each other but not really."

"I…I don't think so. I think we need to tell the truth. I hate how weak I was, and I'm sure you aren't a fan of your past actions either. But we were both a little lost. It's time to put it all behind us for real. To get closure."

Closure? Puck was never looking for closure. All he wants is for everything to just disappear. He's constantly stressed out and nervous about someone finding out his secret. He takes alternate routes to his classes just to avoid most members of Glee and he hasn't shown up to Schuester's Spanish class in three days. The secret's starting to take its toll. It's almost exactly the same as it was with Quinn.

The thought makes him sick. He _hated_ what he did to Finn, to everyone. He hated the way that people looked at him with pity and disgust. He hated the way that everyone assumed he was the one who started the whole mess. Quinn was the one who asked him to keep the secret, and when it got out Puck was the bad guy. The villain. The one who lied to his friends. With an almost visible start, he realizes something that makes his heart sink into his stomach.

He's doing the exact same thing to Blaine.

Xxx

Puck's been thinking about the past a lot lately. It's like he can't help it. Everything he's ever tried to forget is forcing its way back to the surface one way or another. One thing especially. But it's not a bad memory, weirdly enough. He gets enough of those daily. This memory is one that almost makes him smile until he realizes that it's of something he almost had. Something that got away from him.

It's from the pregnancy. Most of his memories are. It's the time when he cried the most (like, twice. It was a bad time for him), worked the hardest, and felt the deepest emotions he'd ever felt. It terrified him, but he learned a lot about himself.

Apparently he's like, super responsible. And he can totally earn money pretty fast. And he'd make a good father.

The last one always makes something pang inside of him.

Shaking his head, he realizes the one memory that keeps standing out. It won't leave him alone. It makes him sad and happy and angry and freaked out all in one, and he wishes he could just forget. Forgetting is so much easier than remembering. Because this isn't a memory of what was. It's a memory of what could've been.

"_Stop it!" she cries, shielding her face with her hands. Her hair and clothes are already covered in flower, and there's egg in her eyes. She doesn't seem to care, though, if the way she's giggling is any indicator._

_He retaliates with a bowl of chocolate. It drenches her completely. She looks up, eyes flashing, and he wonders if he made a mistake. If he took it too far. It wouldn't be the first time. But she grabs the nearest bowl to her (powdered sugar) and soon he's as white as she is. Soon it becomes a full-blown food fight and they're laughing so hard they can't catch their breath. It's perfect._

_Until Finn walks in._

He can't stop replaying the scene in his head. It's a simple thing, really, but at the same time it's so much more. If Finn were out of the picture, who knows what they could've been. More than friends? Or even less?

Puck just thinks that anything is better than where they stand now.

Absolutely nowhere.

Xxx

"Home!" he yells. He doesn't bother with the 'I'm' anymore. It's not like anyone is really listening. He hears an echo- his mom yelling something back- but just trudges up to his room. She won't follow him.

He considers doing homework for about ten seconds, then pulls out his X-box. He connects to the live circuit and kills Finn a few times. They send insulting messages to each other even when they're on the same team, just like they always used to. After three rounds, though, Finn has to go. Kurt is showing him how to cook something fancy. After saying goodbye (and telling him to bring some to Puck if it's any good), Puck decides he likes having Finn back as a friend.

He missed it.

Xxx

Dinner is awkward. It has been for a long time now. Puck cares about his family, he really does, but he's had a lot to think about. He never realized how much he keeps under wraps.

His mom never knew about Quinn. Or the bullying. Or any of it. Juvy, yes. But that's only because she had to sign him in and out. He never told them about regionals and nationals for Glee and how it changed him, or about Lauren and how he thought she was the first girl he ever really loved.

The more he thinks about, the more he thinks she's the second.

But he wishes that his mom knew about all of it. It's not like he's a sensitive person, or any of that crap, but it'd be nice to talk to someone. He just isn't sure if he can make it through some of those stories without saying something he'll regret (which isn't to be confused with _doing_ something he'll regret. He's already familiar with that).

"How are your classes going, Noah?" his mom asks a tad awkwardly, trying to initiate some sort of conversation.

"Fine," he replies curtly. He isn't in the mood.

"How about you, Mia?"

"They're okay, I guess. There's this one boy who keeps calling me names and pulling on my hair and stuff though. The class is easy, so that's good. It's just annoying." She says this with such a blasé tone that it seems like nothing. But it's not. She's just good at hiding it. He remembers the way Hummel used to go to the bathroom after he got slushied. When he came out, head held high, it was like nothing had ever happened.

"I have to go," Puck says, excusing himself. It's too much. The bullying, the hurt in her voice, the way her ponytail bobs up and down when she talks. He can't do it. He can't sit there and hear her say things like that without feeling a pit of guilt so deep in his stomach it hurts. He wants to tear out his hair, and for some reason he finds it cruelly ironic that he has none to tear out.

He can't do this. He can't keep doing these things and keeping them to himself because it's killing him from the inside out.

He needs to tell someone, anyone, what happened.

But he needs to talk to Blaine first.

Xxx

"I want to tell them."

"Are you sure? This is a big deal. It's not like it will just blow over."

"I don't care. This is worse."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes. I've felt awful keeping this from Kurt. It's time we got it all out in the open."

"Deal."

And that's how Puck ends up standing in front of the Glee club for the second time in three days. The whole club is looking at him strangely, but a select few have an idea of where this is going the second they hear the first few notes of the song start to play.

_I need another story  
>something to get off my chest<br>my life gets kinda boring  
>Need something that I can confess<em>

He sees Berry mouthing the words along out of the corner of his eye. Normally he'd be annoyed, but now he can't bring himself to care._  
><em>

_'Til all my sleeves are stained red  
>From all the truth that I've said<br>Come by it honestly I swear  
>Thought you saw me wink, no<br>I've been on the brink, so_

Tell me what you want to hear  
>Something that were like those years<br>Sick of all the insincere  
>So I'm gonna give all my secrets away<p>

He barely hits the notes, but Blaine and Kurt's subtle harmonies are seriously helping him out. It seems like they're both in on it. Blaine didn't tell anyone early, did he? No, he promised…

This time don't need another perfect line  
>Don't care if critics never jump in line<br>I'm gonna give all my secrets away

Oh, got no reason, got no shame  
>Got no family I can blame<br>Just don't let me disappear  
>I'ma tell you everything<p>

So tell me what you want to hear  
>Something that were like those years<br>Sick of all the insincere  
>So I'm gonna give all my secrets away<p>

This time, don't need another perfect line  
>Don't care if critics never jump in line<br>I'm gonna give all my secrets away

He waits a moment, and the silence is charged with anticipation. He thinks Rachel is going to fall off of her seat. He takes a breath, bracing himself. He then mentally berates himself for needing to brace himself. He's way tougher than that. At least, he used to be.

After this week, he isn't sure of anything anymore.

"I have something I need to tell you guys. Blaine and I knew each other before he came to McKinley."

No one looks particularly surprised. Kurt even looks…bored? Not cool. Anger flares up inside of him. Who does Hummel think he is? Does he honestly think he's better than all of them?

Whoa. His thoughts haven't been that vicious towards the kid since at least last year. Focusing, he continues his story, giving the basic information.

"My cousin was the one who forced him to go to Dalton. And I helped."

You could hear a pin drop. Puck is almost tempted to drop something, just to see. He quickly banishes the childish thought from his head. If there's one thing he's learned from Baby Gate, it's that maturity isn't really an option.

It's a necessity.

"You were one of his bullies?" Kurt's voice is wavering slightly, disbelief evident in both his tone and his eyes as he asks the question. He's talking to Puck, but his gaze never leaves Blaine.

"Kind of, yeah." Puck scuffs his shoe at the ground, suddenly feeling ashamed.

"You never told me?" Now his voice is small, scared, and the question is evidently directed at Blaine. Puck feels the guilt growing inside of him. If they break up and it's his fault…

"I didn't want to make you worry, and I didn't think it was such a big deal. We don't need more drama here."

"And how would _you _be the best judge of the drama in a club you joined _this week_?" Kurt's tone is scathing and Puck watches sympathetically as Blaine shrinks back a little, looking apologetic.

"I'm sorry."

"Can we just talk about this later?" He pinches the bridge of his nose, looking down, and scoots his chair the slightest bit away from his boyfriend.

"Dude, it isn't his fault. This was all me. Just forgive him. You guys don't need to break over something stupid like this."

The whole club is staring at him in shock, but Puck stands his ground. He's right. He's finally doing the right thing. For once in his life, he's making something better instead of worse. For once he's trying to keep people together instead of tearing them apart.

And he gets it. He gets why everyone is careful with what they say. He doesn't necessarily think he's going to be doing it any time soon, but maybe people like Blaine who are walking on eggshells around everyone else have the right idea after all.

Kurt looks somewhat embarrassed at his outburst. "Sorry."

Wait. Did Hummel just apologize? Since when does he apologize?

"I'm sorry too. Want to come over tonight?"

"I'd love to."

"As sweet as this all is…" Puck cuts in awkwardly.

The room laughs, tension evaporating. Most people go back to doing what they were doing before. Mercedes turns to face Tina; Mike is idly playing with her hair. Finn watches Kurt and Blaine with a mix of trepidation and happiness. Puck is still standing awkwardly, shifting his weight to his left leg. He's just watching for the first time since he joined Glee. He's usually so engrossed with his own problems that he really doesn't give a (you know what) when it comes to anybody else. It's not like anyone else mattered to him.

But now he looks on and he feels lonely. He also feels the closest to all of them he's ever felt. And that's trippy, because it's not like he's some girl in a bad chick flick. He's Puck. He's awesome.

"Can I talk to you in the hall?" He starts at Quinn's gentle voice. She guides his arm out the door when he nods stiffly, swallowing. He feels numb.

He isn't sure if it's a good thing or not.

"That was really brave of you to do."

"It was my fault to start with. He was like four feet tall, Quinn, and I helped them. I didn't even think it was wrong." His tone is pleading, begging her to tell him something, anything. He doesn't know what he wants to hear, though. He wants her to yell at him for being wrong, but he also wants to be told it's going to be all right.

He's never felt so weak.

"You're different now. And the song was perfect. Just promise me you won't be keeping any more secrets. When I was pregnant…I shouldn't have asked you to do what you did. But that was different. It wasn't your fault. And you made this right. You've changed a lot Puck."

"I know." And he does. But so has she. She's quiet, reserved, and lonely. He thought that she'd go back to normal after Beth was gone, but she retreated into herself. She's had to grow faster than she ever should have because of him.

"You know, I've changed too. People say that having a child makes you happier. I didn't get that." She laughs bitterly and Puck hates the sound, hates the way it makes his stomach clench, hates the way he can't look her in the eye. "I went through boyfriend after boyfriend and I couldn't find anyone who was right. I started to think that _I _wasn't right. But I kind of accepted myself along the way. I thought Finn and I would be perfect. We were before, you know. But I was wrong. I don't fit. I thought I did a long time ago, but I was wrong. I wanted to blame people, but I couldn't. It isn't anyone's fault. It's just the way I am."

But no matter what she says, he knows the truth.

It was his fault the whole time.


	5. Defining Strength

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee**

They both start talking at the same time.

"I'm sorry."

After an awkward laugh, Kurt picks up the conversation. They must have dropped it somewhere between the confession and the apologies.

"I wish you would've told me."

"I-" Blaine starts, but Kurt waves his hand, signaling he isn't finished.

"Wait. I wish you would have felt comfortable enough to tell me about your past, and I wish you didn't think you had to keep secrets from me. But I understand why you did it, and I'm not letting something so ridiculous define us"

After a beat of silence, Blaine speaks. "You have to know how sorry I am."

"I do. You know, that was our first fight," Kurt muses, "And it lasted about ten seconds."

"I hope our second one is even shorter."

"You think we'll have a second fight?" he asks, surprised. He hates fighting, but it's part of being a couple. He knows that. He's heard it a million times.

Blaine scoots closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. Kurt leans into the embrace happily, feeling the familiar warmth of Blaine's side against his own. Blaine's chest vibrates as he speaks.

"I know we will."

And for some reason, the thought is comforting.

Xxx

"Here," says Finn, tossing Kurt a hastily folded sheet of paper in between classes. Kurt looks at it, confused. Why didn't he just give it to him at home? His name is scrawled along the front and he decides to open it.

Wow. Who knew Finn could be so…nice? It's simple, and some of the word choices make him smile, but it's most definitely heartfelt. He finds himself wondering if he's the only one Finn's written to. A sneaking suspicion tells him that he isn't, but he doesn't mind.

It's sweet what Finn is doing, and it's right. Maybe the other jocks can take this as an example and apologize to the Glee club.

Yeah, right.

And maybe Kurt enjoys shopping at the Goodwill.

Xxx

Kurt thought he'd miss Dalton. He was there for quite a while, and he felt safe there. Safer than ever before. He fell in love at Dalton and got his first _real_ kiss. He got a boyfriend. He did a duet with said boyfriend. He met the most accepting guys he'll ever meet. He was happy.

But he hasn't given Dalton much thought at all since leaving.

He feels bad once he realizes this, but not as bad as he probably should. Dalton was…something different. A new experience. A chance to feel safe, to feel loved. He was sheltered there.

Maybe that's why it never felt real.

Every clap on the shoulder made him feel less and less attached to reality. Every time he was turned down for a solo he got less disappointed, because did it really matter? And every second spent pining after Blaine was a second wasted, because Blaine couldn't return his feelings. Could he?

The kiss made things real. But only snippets. The smile on his boyfriend's (boyfriend's!) face when they walked to class together. The duet. The loss at Regionals. The win inside of them.

He could feel again. But only with Blaine.

Nothing else mattered.

Pavarotti seems like more than a symbol for his voice, now that he thinks about it. The little bird represented him. He was in a cage. The metaphor fits.

If you ignore the whole dying thing.

Something makes Kurt feel like he should be worried at how he felt at Dalton. Even now at McKinley very little matters as long as he has Blaine at his side. He feels like he's in a bubble. A bubble that could easily be popped. He should be concerned, but he knows one thing right now as Blaine's mop of curls (that boy really needs a haircut) bounces by and his heart stutters a little bit:

He can't really bring himself to care.

Xxx

He's never been in such an awkward situation in his life. Okay, so maybe he's over exaggerating just a bit. But still, this is weird. He's sandwiched in between Puck and Finn and attempting to play some war game. Black cops or something. All Kurt knows is that it's unbelievably boring, and he's missing the season premiere of Project Runway.

Definitely not cool.

And now Puck is yelling something about a kill streak and Kurt is watching Finn freak out because he seems to be losing. Randomly pressing a few buttons, Kurt watches as his player runs farther and farther away from the war zone.

The same way he did.

Now Kurt' is convinced this game is driving him crazy, because did he really just compare himself to a virtual soldier? A virtual soldier wearing camouflage, no less.

He must be insane.

Finn mumbles something about having to go to the bathroom and gets up, bumping Kurt the slightest bit on the way. The game is paused and as Finn makes his exit, Kurt turns to Puck.

"Why didn't he tell me?"

Puck is a lot of things, but he isn't stupid. Even Kurt knows that. He's obsessed with zombies, addicted to video games, and known as a slacker, but he is in no way mentally deficient.

"He just wanted to start fresh, I guess. He told me to stay out of your life and his and leave you guys alone. It's not like I was gonna start trouble, or whatever, but he seemed pretty pissed."

"He told you to stay out of _my_ life?" Kurt asks, brows knitting together in confusion. "But you didn't…"

"I tried to tell him we were cool, but he looked ready to kick my ass. I decided to back off."

"Wait- you were scared of _Blaine_? Are we talking about the same person? He's a hobbit!"

"He was like, evil! It was trippy!"

Kurt bursts out laughing and Puck's expression is a mix between embarrassment and frustration.

Finn walks back in and takes one look at the two before silently walking back out.

"Evil-" sputters Kurt.

"Dude. Not cool."

"Sorry, sorry," he says, catching his breath, "I can just picture it-"

And it's so ridiculous that he dissolves into giggles once again.

Xxx

Kurt and Rachel have a complicated relationship.

It isn't love/hate; that's far too simple. There's very little hate, and there's very little love. There is, however, plenty of distaste, camaraderie, forced closeness, fake smiles, animosity, envy, indifference, and competition between the two. It's a bit strained, to say the least.

But Kurt wouldn't have it any other way.

First off, Rachel can handle Finn. And she does so quite well. He knows first hand how hard it is to make him wake up in the morning, but whenever Rachel comes over to drive them to school (which is fairly often; apparently she doesn't like driving alone), she comes early. Early enough to jump on top of a still sleeping Finn, much to Kurt's amusement. She puts up with his less than coherent ramblings and painful misuse of longer words much better than anyone he's ever known.

And even though Kurt doesn't get the whole 'Rachel is so amazing' thing Finn feels, he gets the sparkle in his eye when he looks at her. He understands the way that Finn trips over his own feet to get to the phone when it rings (not that Kurt would ever trip, he's much more refined than that).

He understands being in love.

Of course, there are parts of Rachel Kurt could never _dream_ of looking past. Her insensitivity when broaching sensitive topics is at times mind-blowing in its enormity. She feels the need to remind people of her talent at least twice a day, and her outfit choices…they make him shudder. With fear.

But even through all of the bumps in the road, Kurt and Rachel share a bond. Finn thinks it's because they're similar, but Kurt thinks it's more than that.

They're not only similar; they're fueled by the same desires. They know what it's like to be hated, to be outsiders. They know that one day they'll both be famous. They get each other on a level neither of them is even aware of.

Both are driven by a need to be noticed. A need for attention. They are talented, and they both know it. They both dream big. They both get scared. Neither of them shows it. Ever.

They're strong. Stronger than most people. They've both been tormented for years. Neither of them had (have) a ton of friends, or popularity.

They've both been through tougher times than anyone they know. They both get lost. They're both hurting. They're both confused a lot.

But they're also both starting to figure things out.

Xxx

"I think I really like your boyfriend."

Kurt jumps a little bit before he realizes it's just Quinn. He recognized her voice easily enough; he just hadn't expected it to come from directly behind him. Collecting himself, he turns to her.

"I think I do too." She laughs a little bit, the sound tinkling, but the smile doesn't seem real to Kurt. It's forced. He would know.

He's smiled like that more times than he can count.

"Quinn, how have you been? Honestly?"

She thinks for a few moments, and Kurt realizes just how withdrawn she's become. It's hard to believe this is the same girl who was head cheerleader and had _football players_ cowering under her glare a few years ago. This isn't the same Quinn Fabray, he knows that for certain. But who is she?

"I've been…it's been tough. I just don't fit anymore."

Kurt gets the feeling she isn't just talking about her old clothes.

"Maybe that's a good thing." She looks up at him, hurt evident on her face, and he hurries on. "You weren't exactly the nicest person before, you know. Maybe you could, I don't know, start over?"

She nods, mulling it over. "Maybe. You're lucky. I see that now."

"Lucky?" he scoffs.

"You've always known who you were. Who you are. The only reason you didn't find love sooner is because you weren't looking for it. But Blaine, he loves you. For who you are. You aren't just pretending. I don't even know who I am anymore. So no one can love me for who I am, because I'm not anyone."

No matter how twisted the logic, Quinn seems to truly believe it, and Kurt's heart twists. "That's not true. You're Quinn Fabray. You were on top, darling, and that isn't something you just lose. So what if you aren't miss popular? You can still be as much of a diva as anyone else in the Glee club. And your fashion sense is better than most of the girls there anyways."

That elicits a real smile.

"That's high praise, coming from you."

"Oh, I know. But really, think about it?"

"Think about what?" asks Blaine, walking over and sliding an arm around Kurt's waist. Quinn looks a tad uncomfortable, but Kurt looks at her encouragingly, willing her to tell Blaine what she told Kurt just moments before.

She opens her mouth, about to speak, when Kurt feels himself being thrust against the lockers next to him. Blaine stumbles as well, and he's on top of Kurt, and ow he's pressing his arm against the lock and that's definitely going to leave a bruise.

"Kurt! Are you okay?" He takes a moment to answer, breathing deeply.

"Fine," he says, though it comes out a bit strangled. "How about you?"

"You kind of cushioned my fall. I'm completely unharmed. H- your arm! Oh my god, are you-"

"I'm _fine_, I've had much worse." The bruise is already purpling but really isn't _that_ bad.

In hindsight, that probably wasn't the right thing to say.

"Much worse?" Blaine's voice is strained and Kurt really regrets saying anything at all. That was nothing. It was child's play compared to other things that have happened to him. Blaine knows about Karofsky, and he has a vague idea of the dumpster dives and slushy facials. That's as much as he knows, though. Kurt's been extremely careful not to let the more physical parts of the bullying come to his boyfriend's attention.

Now it's all about to come crashing down because of one slip of the tongue.

"Nevermind, it was nothing."

"No, it definitely was not nothing. Your arm is already bruising! Let's go to the nurse's office, you need to get some ice on it."

"No, I don't. Like I said, I know how to take care of myself. This is no big deal."

Quinn uses the pause in the conversation to slip away, unnoticed by the two boys. Kurt swears he hears a sigh of relief in the distance, but it might just be his imagination. Though his imagination has been strangely intuitive lately.

"What else have they done to you?" Blaine asks, the question strangely quiet. Kurt looks up and is surprised by the intensity of the (ex) Warbler's gaze.

"It doesn't matter." He's used to deflection. He's good at it. Excellent, even.

He has plenty of practice.

"I deserve to know. I told you about my past."

"You haven't told me about anything specific. I'll tell you if you tell me."

"Okay." He can't help but notice the way Blaine's hands are shaking.

Kurt takes a breath, attempting to steady himself. He's nervous. Actually, he's more than nervous, he's terrified. Because Blaine thinks he's strong. But Kurt isn't. He let them torment him for years and years and years and he never did a damn thing.

"Last year, Azimio kinda hit me in the middle of the hall. Not hard, just enough to knock me off balance. I accidentally dropped my bag on his foot and he kind of…flipped out. It was after school, so no one was really there. I guess football got out a little after Glee. Anyways, he got really mad, and he shoved me against the wall, and he kind of hit me. I was just thankful I knew how to use concealer by then."

"He hit you?" Blaine asks, voice low.

"Yeah. My jaw was kind of bruised." He shrugs uncomfortably, silently pleading Blaine not to ask any more questions. But, of course, his pleas go unnoticed.

"Wait, you're saying he punched you? And you didn't tell anyone?"

"There were no witnesses. No one would have believed me."

And he can feel the tears welling up in his eyes, because no one has ever asked the questions Blaine is asking. No one has ever really cared about him. It's strange and new and scary, but it makes him feel like he's worth something.

"Oh, Kurt," Blaine says, and pulls the younger boy into his arms. Kurt just holds on, completely ignoring the stares he's sure they're on the receiving end of.

The bell rings, and they part ways reluctantly, promising to talk during Glee.

Kurt immediately misses the warmth of his boyfriend's embrace, but even so he feels less lonely than he has in a long time.

Xxx

"_But he came back and let me out an hour later."_

"_Wow. I never would've expected that, coming from Puck. Why didn't you tell me it got so bad? You didn't run, you were pretty much forced out of your old school."_

"_Yeah, well, it never came up. And yes, I did run, but that's a story for another time. I've got to go eat dinner. See you tomorrow?"_

"_Of course."_

"_Love you, bye."_

"_Love you too."_

Kurt smiles into the phone. He'll never tire of hearing that.

Blaine's story is tragic. It's sad and it makes Kurt want to run over and hug him. But it doesn't hold a candle to some of the things Kurt knows the shorter boy is still hiding from him. Blaine's past is a lot darker than he ever would've guessed from his easy going demeanor and impeccable manners.

And who could forget that heart-stopping smile?

Kurt always thought he had a rough life. He's been bullied for quite a while, he's had to learn how to apply concealer like a professional, and he pined over the one guy who was totally inaccessible. It was pretty bad.

He feels guilty now. There are people out there who had a much worse time than him, and they didn't complain either.

Kurt is still lost in his thoughts when he hears a tentative knock on the door.

"Yes?" he calls impatiently. He really should get started on that history paper.

"Kurt? I can't figure out how to work the dishwasher!"

With an exasperated sigh, Kurt hops down from the desk chair and tugs open the door to reveal six feet three inches of nervous energy.

"You're not serious," says Kurt bluntly, taking in Finn's anxious form.

"I pressed a button and it kind of started leaking. You won't tell my mom will you?"

"Come on." Kurt leads the way to the kitchen, eyes widening at the sight before him. Leaking is certainly an understatement. Soap and water are almost flooding the room and the door to the appliance itself is partially open, as if mocking them.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Kurt closes his eyes. "Get some towels."

Finn complies, running up the stairs. Kurt has no doubt his stepbrother is taking them at least three at a time.

It's funny. Two years ago Kurt was fawning over Finn like some sort of stalker. He can admit that now because he knows it's true, and he knows he's never going back to that. It's almost shocking how much things have changed with Finn.

He hears a muffled curse coming from upstairs along with a loud thud and chuckles a little bit to himself. Even when he thought he loved Finn he never thought he was graceful.

"I got them," Finn pants, holding up two towels triumphantly. He has a wad of tissues against his shin where a small line of blood is making itself apparent. Kurt looks at it questioningly, but Finn just waves it off. It happens all the time.

Kurt shakes his head fondly.

"Let's clean up this mess."

And they do.

Xxx

Kurt really hates math.

English, he gets. It's interesting. The books they read are bland at times, but he loves the rare occasions where they get romantic novels, and he loves curling up in bed with an exceptionally good book. It also helps that there are absolutely no jocks in his class (it is advanced, after all).

Science is all right. Nothing exciting, nothing too awfully boring. Just…science.

History is a yawn, usually, but it isn't too horrible. He likes his teacher, at least, and keeps a steady A without much work. Usually the class passes in a blur. He doesn't mind.

Math, though. It's terrible. It makes him cringe just to think about the test he has on Friday. Numbers have never been his forte. Add to that a painfully advanced class, a breakneck pace, and an overexcited teacher, and you have a recipe for daily, midmorning migraines. Oh, and there's also the fact that absolutely zero of the Glee kids share his suffering.

Kurt isn't a fan of calculus.

Xxx

"Kurt? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just peachy," comes the response from behind the closed door.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No Dad, I don't."

He hears a heaving sigh and footsteps walking away from his door. When his dad is finally downstairs, Kurt curls in on himself again, willing the tears not to come. He wishes that he were stronger. He wishes that he didn't cry so damn easily.

But when do his wishes ever come true?

Today wasn't easy. Sure, all of his days begin relatively normally. Finn trying to find a clean shirt, his dad trying to get away with eating bacon (really?), and Rachel showing up early and helping them get ready.

The drive to school was normal enough. Broadway tunes in the background. Singing. Finn complaining. The sounds of Kurt's morning.

It's when he actually gets to school that things always get messed up. Sure, it's always nice to see Blaine waiting at his locker, but even that can't lift the sense of foreboding he always gets when he steps into the crowded halls.

He continues through the day, and it always gets progressively worse. He gets bumped in the halls as if he isn't even there. He's invisible.

Ha. If only that were true. Invisibility would be a nice change from…everything.

He meets Blaine's eye during Glee, and feels a reassuring hand on his knee. It makes him feel the slightest bit better, but it'll never really be enough.

Because no matter how many times Blaine says, "I love you," there will always be five bullies telling Kurt he's worthless.

Xxx

"As I'm sure you know, our voices seem to be especially compatible when we sing duets. Take defying gravity, for example. And even if I have better stage chemistry with Finn, I believe we should work on singing together sometime in the near future."

"Rachel, we don't even have an assignment this week. The year's almost over. I think we just have the graduation performance and we're done."

"Never give up an opportunity to sing! And you can't deny our harmonies are exceptional."

"I suppose not…what song did you have in mind?" he asks hesitantly, interest seeping into his voice involuntarily.

"I didn't! You can pick."

"Rachel Berry letting someone else pick a song? My, how things have changed."

She smacks his shoulder playfully, and they amble through the halls on their way to the only class they have together. With arms linked and high voices floating through the halls, they're both wrapped up in their own worlds.

They walk slowly, heels clicking harshly on the white, linoleum flooring, and sway side to side ever so slightly. Rachel steals Kurt's hat and puts it on her own head, laughing when it falls forward to cover her eyes. He promptly takes it back, and with a sharp retort, they find themselves in front of the choir room.

Kurt is pleasantly surprised. That was the most fun he's had in quite a while. And he was with Rachel Berry. Rachel Berry, whose guts he absolutely hated last year, and the year before that, and they year before that. Rachel, who stole his solos. They actually had…fun.

Though he's surprised, he can't really say he minds. Maybe Miss Berry isn't so awful after all.

Xxx

"Let's get started! As I'm sure you all know, the New Directions will be performing at graduation and we're using an original song!" Mr. Schue begins passing out the rhyming dictionaries they've all learned to depend on and the writing session begins.

"I wish we could just use an existing song," grumbles someone from the opposite side of the room. Kurt doesn't really care, though. This time he's writing a song. At Nationals he wasn't too involved in the songwriting process. He wasn't there for Regionals, after all. But this time, he's ready.

And he's got a heck of a lot to write about.

He stands up, taking his notebook and pen with him as he sits in the farthest corner of the room. He can't be distracted if he wants to get his thoughts down.

He ignores the curious glances, especially from Quinn. She looks concerned, green eyes peeking up at him inquisitively. He looks away, determined.

No one is expecting a song from Kurt. The young, tortured musician with a dark past? Sure. The two people with extremely complicated love lives? Obviously. The girl who lives life alone nowadays? Maybe. But the guy who finally seem happy? The guy who is an outcast, but at the same time isn't? No. Not a chance.

He's proving them all wrong.

Focusing, he starts writing. It begins randomly, and he doesn't know what to expect. The first few sheets are crumpled into balls and thrown haphazardly behind him. After five tries, inspiration strikes.

_Two years is all it took for  
>You to open the door<br>Picked me up off of the floor_

_We've all changed in our own ways  
>Through lonely, empty, hard days<br>With whispered, "won't you please stays?"_

_No, we'll never be the same  
>We're playing a different game<br>The sun is shining through  
>Just know I'm there for you<br>Fighting for the same team  
>Driven by the same dreams<br>We'll never be the same_

_We all saw the look in your eyes  
>Heard the muffled outcries<br>And the heart-wrenching goodbyes_

_You stumbled through the long year  
>Shedding broken tears<br>But then you found us all here  
><em>

_No, we'll never be the same  
>We're playing a different game<br>The sun is shining through  
>Just know I'm there for you<br>Fighting for the same team  
>Driven by the same dream<br>We'll never be the same_

He transitions into the bridge smoothly, allowing his voice to lift higher, higher, higher. It's effortless and freeing and no one else matters. He's singing.

_Haunting pasts  
>Love that lasts<br>I'm like glass_

_Easy to see through  
>Easy to break, too<br>But only when I'm with you_

_No, we'll never be_

_We'll never be the same_

Kurt stands awkwardly, waiting for the verdict. He knows it's a good song. He knows it's excellent. He knows it portrays his feelings better than any song out there. And he finally understands why some artists write their own songs. He feels a connection. But he also knows that this isn't supposed to be a song for him. It's for everyone.

He isn't surprised when Mr. Schuester turns him down gently. It's too personal. He gets it.

He isn't even disappointed.

He's come quite a long way.


	6. Chasing Dreams

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee**

Between every two people there is a string. Some people leave it at that. Just a simple string, easily severed. It stays loose, slack, and there is never any need to tighten it. Most times people aren't even aware the string is there. Some are ropes, braided through friendship. Others are tangled knots. Some are fraying at the ends, ready to snap. But once a string snaps, you can't reconnect it. It isn't possible. And in rare occasions, some people are connected by an unbreakable tether. Pull, and you'll find out who's on the other end.

If you're lucky, they just might pull back.

Xxx

She's walking down the hall confidently. Or, at least it looks confident to the untrained eye. In reality, she's scanning the halls for potential threats and thinking of song choices for Regionals. She's also trying to block out the one person who doesn't want to leave her mind. The crooked smile follows her as she heads into the bathroom and fixes her hair. She ignores the way his eyes sparkle when he talks to her on the way to her locker. And she's so distracted by not thinking about him that she doesn't even notice the slushy until it hits her square in the face.

Cursing him for everything he's doing to her, she storms back to the crowded bathroom, fighting for sink space. Girls move readily when they see the murderous glint in her eyes. She doesn't blame them.

Looking in the mirror, she sighs. Red is always a mess to try and get out of her hair, and is so heavily laden with syrup that her eyes are burning. Grabbing a paper towel, she methodically wipes in streaks down her face, rinsing out her eyes gently. She's going to be very late for history. She sighs, still looking in the mirror. What had she honestly done wrong?

She pours her heart and soul into the one thing she's truly passionate about every single day, and as a reward for her efforts she gets a slushy to the face. Her face automatically wants to crumple, but she knows better than to break down here. She can cry later, in the safety of her own home.

It pays to have a soundproofed room.

Inspecting herself closely in the mirror one last time, she decides her hair is a lost cause at the moment. Brushing at an errant tear angrily, she struts out of the bathroom. They can't break her. They never have and they never will. She's better than all of them.

One day they'll get it. She just hopes that day comes soon.

Xxx

She walks into Glee fully expecting Santana to roll her eyes while talking to Brittany. She knows Quinn will whisper something to anyone sitting near her (or herself, if no one is listening), and Kurt will cross his legs without even realizing he's doing it. Mercedes and Tina will be singing along to Tina's I-Pod while Mike watches fondly. Sam will be talking to Artie about some video game or another and Finn will be sitting on his own, usually studying something with confusion crinkling his brow. His poor grades aren't from lack of trying. Rachel knows that Puck will be in the back, near Finn but not next to him.

She knows that when she sits down in an empty seat near Kurt (and Blaine, naturally. Those two are inseparable), Mercedes, and Tina (but not next to them) nobody will be surprised, or feel inclined to talk to her. She also knows that soon Mr. Shue will walk in, giving them the assignment. Half of her brain will focus diligently; this is the half that people see. The Rachel who finishes her assignment within hours of receiving it. The other half of her is somewhere else.

Usually she uses her uncanny ability to focus on multiple things at the same time to excel in her advanced classes, or to memorize and rememorize her favorite songs. Today, though, her mind is following an unwelcome path. Because a certain Finn Hudson is sitting two seats away, and he's looking right at her.

At first she ignores him. He just split with Quinn a few days ago, he needs time and he needs space. She's sure he's completely devastated. Who wouldn't be? Quinn is…perfect, in every way Rachel wishes she could be. The hair, the nose, the size-2 body. But soon enough, she starts to feel uncomfortable. Sneaking a peek at him, she finds him still looking at her.

She shakes her head firmly. He will not take her thoughts, too. She's strong, independent. She doesn't need anyone. Especially not him.

She doesn't need anyone or anything holding her back. She's going to be famous one day. She's going to New York and she's never coming back to this dumpy town ever again. He isn't cut out for the big apple, she knows that. He'll probably be here, in Lima, the one place she wants to forget.

But she'll be all right. All good songs are full of emotion. And the best ones are painful. Wasn't it Finn himself that had told her that? Sure, My Headband was underappreciated, but she can see where he was coming from. Pain equals good writing.

And she knows that somewhere inside of her, there are plenty of both.

Xxx

Rachel usually has much bigger things to focus on that what to wear to school, but her wardrobe just isn't cooperating with her this morning.

The argyle skirts are lined up neatly in her closet, mocking her. They seemed like a good idea at the time. There was a huge sale, and she loved the length (not too long, not too short). They go went perfectly with her knee socks and sweaters. She loved them.

Now she isn't so sure.

It all started yesterday. Rachel is normally very secure in her image of herself. She's incredibly talented, after all. But at the same time, Rachel is extremely intelligent. She's in all advanced placement classes and has perfect pitch. She's perceptive. And she knows how people react to her. It usually isn't so well. So when Kurt mentions something about how the sheer amount of argyle she's wearing hurts her eyes, she thinks nothing of it. When Mercedes comments on her knee socks, she ignores it. When Brittany and Santana make some mean joke about her sweater, she starts to feel uncomfortable. And when Puck remarks about how short her skirt is, she feels equal parts devastated and furious.

How dare they make fun of her wardrobe? As a rising star, she'll need her own style. She doesn't want to be _mainstream_ (the horror!). She'll be a household name, and with that title comes responsibilities. Like having an inspiring wardrobe.

But if so many people hate it, can it be that inspiring?

And her wardrobe is only a small part of her. Easily judged, yes. But also easy to take offense to. What if people apply the same ideas to her? Her voice, her acting, her body? She's already been through a lot for her nose.

No. She can't let them get to her. They'll all wish they'd been kinder one day, she knows it. For now she just has to stick it out. She's going to New York.

And there isn't anything (or anyone) that could ever stop her.

Xxx

"Hello, Blaine."

"Hi Rachel."

"How are you?" she asks, crossing her legs primly.

"Fine. You?" he replies, seemingly a bit confused by the formality of her tone.

"I'm in the middle of a crisis, actually," she says, looking down. "I'm starting to have trouble making a very important decision between…two things I care about deeply. One I've loved since I was born, practically, but the other is so confusing. I'm not really sure what to do. Kurt tells me you give good advice, so I was hoping you'd have some for me?"

He laughs a little bit, running a hand through his hair. The action upsets the curls the slightest bit and she holds her tongue, even though she desperately wants to tell him how one piece of hair is almost sticking straight up. "I helped Kurt through a really tough time, but he didn't need my advice. He would've made it through with or without me. As for my advice-giving skills, I can't say much about them. Follow your heart?"

"That was awfully cliché. I'm a little bit disappointed."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help. Maybe you could talk to another girl? I'm not very good at this relationship stuff. To this day Kurt doesn't believe me, but he's my first boyfriend."

"You're quite charming. I don't blame him." Realizing how she'd worded that, Rachel blushes the slightest bit, looking down. She hurriedly changes the subject. "It's strange to see you without a uniform."

Blaine smiles, amused, and his eyebrow quirks the tiniest bit. "It's been over a week. But I guess it is kind of weird. I'm so used to that blazer. Wes and David used to say I was overly dependent on it."

She pauses for a moment, running the two names through her head. Wes and David. After coming up blank, she shrugs it off. Due to her impeccable memory, she can be sure that she's never met them. Most likely they are from Dalton. She wonders if they were Warblers. She would know them, wouldn't she? Maybe they were just day students…

Not that she cares.

"Your blazer?" she asks, thankful for her mind's ability to multitask.

"Yeah, it was part of the uniform?"

"Right, right."

Thankfully, the class begins, ending Rachel's foot-in-mouth impersonation. She would breathe a sigh of relief if she weren't in class. As it is, she attempts to focus solely on taking math notes. The material is dull, but she persists, all the while trying to ignore the small voice in the back of her head telling her she's making the wrong choice. She silences it with a flick of her hair.

What she doesn't know is that that voice isn't in her mind. It's in her heart.

Xxx

"I can't do this anymore," she says after a silence in which he's attempting to match vocabulary words to pictures. She stands up and pushes in her chair, hearing the scraping of the legs against the tile as if the sound is magnified.

"What? Rach, you told me yourself you wouldn't give up until I got an A."

"That's not what I'm talking about." Her voice is colder than she anticipated.

He looks at her beseechingly, brown eyes confused and betrayed. She holds his gaze.

She also holds back tears, but she isn't willing to admit that to herself.

She's seconds away from breaking, and the voice is back, telling her she's wrong, she shouldn't do this, she'll regret it.

"Why?" And the question is so innocent it hurts. He may be over six feet tall, but he's terrified, she can see that. And it makes her feel like the worst person in the world. But she can' let him get in the way. She's known her path since she was three. She isn't giving it up for a small-town boy with a big heart.

She shuts her eyes. It's impossible to think straight with him there looking so heartbroken. It's for both of their sanities. She'd end up leaving him anyways.

It's kinder to end it cleanly. The little voice in her head (heart) speaks up once more, '_do you have to end it at all?'_

She ignores it.

Xxx

_I've gotta go on my own  
>I'll leave you behind<br>Well haven't you heard  
>That, darling, love is blind?<em>

_I'll never forget  
>The sound of your voice<br>I've never heard that love's deaf  
>But does it have a choice?<em>

_They say that some things are for the best  
>But what does the best really mean?<br>Is it the best for your mind  
>Or the best for your heart<br>Or somewhere in between?  
>Is it really the best for me?<em>

_I want it so much  
>I've dreamed for so long<br>But ever since you came around  
>It hasn't felt so strong<em>

_I'll never forget  
>The lure of the lights<br>But now that you're here  
>There's an internal fight<em>

_They say that some things are for the best  
>But what does the best really mean?<br>Is it the best for your mind  
>Or the best for your heart<br>Or somewhere in between?  
>Is it really the best for me?<br>_

_And why can't you just let me go?  
>Why can't you understand?<br>Your eyes are piercing into mine  
>Why do you want me to rewind?<br>I can't_

_They say that some things are for the best  
>But what does the best really mean?<br>Is it the best for your mind  
>Or the best for your heart<br>Or somewhere in between?  
>Is it really the best for me?<em>

She's oblivious to the applause for the first time since she was six. She ignores the compliments and praises and everything she's ever really lived for. She isn't paying attention. Because he knows the song was for him, and he understands the meaning perfectly clearly.

She just wishes her heart wouldn't break every time his eyes turn to her with that _look_.

Xxx

"Finn tells me you've broken up with him. Does that mean you were dating before?" Kurt's inquiry is anything but polite, and she can hear Blaine reprimanding him softly over the line. The only time she's ever seen those two apart is in the classes she shares with one and not the other. It would be sickening if they weren't so adorable, she decides.

"No," she says coolly, trying to decide how to word her explanation. "As I'm sure you're aware, we've always had a sort of mutual attraction to each other, though we ignored it for most of our high school lives. I suppose it was for the best. Finn won't come with me to New York, he isn't cut out for the big city. It's best to end it before it begins."

"Have you talked to him about your future?" This time it's Blaine's calm voice speaking to her rationally.

For some reason, she finds it quite difficult to argue with him. It must be his schoolboy charm.

"Well…no. But it should be obvious. I've dreamed of Broadway, and the lights and the crowd and the applause since I was three. He loves football. He likes to sing, but I love it. I thrive on the stage. We wouldn't make it."

There's a dry sound on the other end of the line, but no response. She holds her breath, listening, muscles tensed. Something feels off, but she can't place it. Another sharp, painful-sounding intake of breath can be heard.

"Hello?" she asks finally, voice shaking a little bit, "Kurt? Blaine? It's not funny."

"Rach?" asks a new voice. It cracks halfway through the word, and she hears a frustrated huff.

"F-Finn? How long have you been listening?"

"Long enough to know that you won't even give us a chance."

"We had several chances. And none of them ever worked out. I'm just trying to make things right."

"Do they feel right? Cuz right now I feel like crap." She isn't sure how much longer she can stand the hurt tone in his voice. He sounds like a chain smoker with a severe case of depression.

"We wouldn't work. I'm going to New York and I'm not coming back." At this point it's almost physically painful to spit the words out, but she does. Unintentionally, they're laced with venom. She winces at the sound.

"How do you know I won't come with you?" he asks, equally harshly.

"It's not your dream. Football is."

"No it's not." She thinks he's done, and is about to ask what his dream is, when he answers. His reply makes her breath stop, her heart skip, and her eyes well up with tears. She finally understands what the voice in her head was saying the whole time.

"My dream was never football. It was you."

Xxx

The doorbell chimes, but she doesn't move from her spot on the couch. She's attempting to focus on her English essay, laptop propped on her legs, book in hand. She shouts, "Door!" in a voice she knows will cut through the house and settles back into the pillows.

Until no one answers it. She calls out again before realizing no one is home. When did that happen? Shrugging it off, she closes her laptop gently and puts it down. Her heart starts to pick up speed irrationally; she _is_ home alone, after all. What if it's a murderer?

_Save the drama for the stage, sweetheart_. She can hear her daddy's voice echoing in her ear, and grins despite herself. She always did love to be the brightest star in everything. But who could blame her?

Pushing herself up on her tiptoes (oh, how she hates being short), she looks through the peephole in the wooden door. She's expecting a mailman, or a neighbor, or even _him_, but she's admittedly shocked to see the slight form outside, rocking back and forth on her (her!) heels. She's almost a full foot shorter than expected, so Rachel has to adjust her line of vision.

She can't be blamed for hoping.

A bit shaken, she opens the door. "Hello, Quinn," she says slowly, expression questioning the other girl's motives.

"Hi Rachel. Is it all right if I come in? I don't want to intrude…"

She steps aside. "Intrude? You already defaced my MySpace page, stole my boyfriend, and made my life awful for as long as I can remember. What else is there to ruin?"

Bitter. It's the first word that comes to her mind when she finishes her speech, and she's ashamed. "Quinn, I'm sorry, that wasn't right for me to say."

"No, you're right."

Rachel never thought she'd hear those words come from that girl's mouth, but there they are. Hanging in the air. He response could change everything.

"That may be true, but I had no right to verbally attack you the way I did. It was unprofessional of me."

"Professional?" she snorts, and Rachel sees a spark of the old Quinn shining through the softer exterior. She isn't sure if she's supposed to be concerned or relieved. For now, she'll settle with wary. This is the same Quinn who drew (inappropriate) images of her on bathroom stalls in sophomore year. No matter how much she seems to have changed- and the baby seems to have changed her _a lot_- she'll never stop being Quinn Fabray.

"Maybe not the right word. So…what did you need?" She winces at her word choice. "I mean, what was your reason for coming here?"

Quinn lifts an eyebrow in her perfected move. "I wanted to talk to you actually, Berry."

"Berry? Your Quinn is showing."

They both laugh at how ridiculously ironic it is that the only time Quinn reverts to her old self is when confronted with her enemy from day one. It isn't funny, but they both feel awkward sitting by themselves in Rachel's living room on a couch that's only used on formal occasions. The laughter is for their situation more than anything else, really.

They calm down eventually, both still a bit uncomfortable. Rachel is surprised that there hasn't been any fighting, though. And she feels a little bit better than she had when Quinn first walked in.

They start the conversation by broaching broader topics. They start with Glee, naturally, but there is no assignment this week. The year is winding down, and they talk about the graduation ceremony for as long as they can. Rachel feels a pit in her stomach when she remembers last week's 'forgiveness' performance. It probably wasn't the best way to try to reconcile with Quinn. Stars can't afford to burn bridges; therefore, neither can she.

But it's becoming increasingly hard to follow the path of a star.

They move on to different classes, complaining good-naturedly about homework and crazy teachers, and she realizes that she hasn't had this many stereotypical high school conversations since…well, ever. She'd promised herself she wouldn't fall into the hordes of sheep. She wouldn't be one of them.

She _despised_ the girls (like Quinn) who walked around with boys on their arms and eyes that cut through girls like her. Would still despise them if she had never caught a glimpse of what life is like on the inside.

Maybe there's a method to the madness after all?

No. She isn't a conformist and she isn't a sheep. No matter how _fun_ it is to sit and talk about meaningless things, it isn't her. Because she does things with a purpose in mind. She achieves her dreams. She sets goals, and then she reaches them. It's how her life has always been. Some goals are harder to reach than others, but she's never given in to society's temptations.

She's never really felt tempted.

But now, sitting here with Quinn (Quinn, of all people!) talking about haircuts and clothes and other frivolous things, the hatred is dropping away. She understands it all. She gets the pull of popularity, the instinctual desire to be loved, and the pleasure in being able to brag about anything without being called out for it.

She feels the pull, but she won't respond. She's been marching to the beat of her own drummer for far too long to stray away now.

Xxx

"I don't know why you invited me here." She crosses her arms, looking at him suspiciously. She has an idea of the reason behind the offer, but would rather not voice it. It's far too shallow for her tastes.

"Because you're the only Jewish girl I know, isn't it obvious?"

And, of course, her fears are confirmed.

"Noah, as much as I appreciate the fact that we both practice Judaism, I would rather you didn't bring it up in every single conversation we have. We're both in Glee club, so we could talk about our experiences there and how we've changed as people, or we could even find out if we have similar interests in extracurricular activities. I'm not saying to ignore religion, because it's a very integral part of both of our lives, but maybe we could converse about some other topics when we do talk to each other at all?"

His blank look causes her to sigh huffily and summarize her speech. "Let's talk about something else." She speaks slowly and enunciates carefully.

"I'm not five, Berry."

"Right." She bites her lip. She always seems to do something wrong when it comes to her acquaintances. She's only ever really herself, flaws and attitude and all, with a person who she's been avoiding ever since that phone call. He's taken everything.

Is it too much to ask for him to stay out of her thoughts, too? Apparently it is.

"So, besides you being Jewish," she rolls her eyes, "I brought you here because ever since Finn and I became best friends again, he tells me everything. And by everything, I mean feelings and junk, too. I haven't heard anything besides 'Rachel' this and 'Rachel' that for weeks now, and it's driving me crazy. Either dump him or make out with him, I don't care."

_Weeks?_ "Weeks? Wasn't he with Quinn?"

He gives her a knowing look, the beginnings of a leer painted across his face. "Exactly."

"Well, I can't dump him because we never went out. I made my intentions very clear, however. I'm going to New York to pursue _my_ dream. He isn't. It's as simple as that."

"Dude, you have your whole senior year to do stuff. And he's gonna be complaining about you all year. I really don't want to have to deal with that. Either tell him you hate him or go out with him."

"It's not that simple-"

"Like hell it's not that simple! I told him to man up, and you know what? He did! But you were too freaking scared to do anything! It's not like you're going to Broadway right this second! Freaking unbelievable." He stands up, pushing in the chair. His food sits untouched, a surprise to Rachel. She's seen him eat far more than what he ordered.

She feels hot shame creeping up her neck, but pushes it back down. Who is he to tell her what to do? She's Rachel Barbra Berry, and no one pushes her around. Especially not people like Noah Puckerman.

She swallows thickly before opening her mouth. "I feel bad for you. You're so selfish. You don't care about anybody's happiness but your own."

"So?"

"So that's why you don't have any real friends! Finn idolizes you because he thinks your cool! That's how it's always been, and you're wrong for ever thinking otherwise. But once he outgrows you, and he will, you'll realize that no one really cares about you because you never cared about anybody else."

Judging by the look on his face, she's struck a nerve. She almost feels bad for a moment, but she quickly brushes it off. The truth hurts.

And if there's one thing Noah needs to hear, it's the truth.

She waits as patiently as she can for him to respond (though the foot-tapping isn't something she can help), but he doesn't seem to feel inclined to speak at the moment. Repressing a sigh, she decides to wrap things up.

"Just think about it Noah."

And with that, she walks off, heels clicking loudly even though the mall is crowded beyond belief. But maybe they just click loudly to her. It doesn't matter how loud they click, though.

They're still not enough to drown out her racing thoughts.

Xxx

Rachel Barbra Berry used to know what she wanted.

But now, she isn't quite as sure. She gets home after an unbelievably stressful day and heads straight to her room. Her dads aren't home; it's Friday. They're both working late tonight. Hurrying up the stairs, she almost trips. Eyes already blurry with tears, she stumbles to her elliptical and rips the Broadway poster off of the wall. It used to be the only thing keeping her going when times were hard.

Now it's the one thing keeping her from happiness.

With a vindictive sort of pleasure, she runs it through the high-powered shredder she got for her birthday last year. It was exceptionally useful for hate notes (and love notes signed a certain J.B.I.).

She watches as the brightly colored paper she spent so much time on is destroyed beyond repair, and she feels lighter. She knows that later she'll regret the rash act, but at the moment she doesn't feel like she could care less if she tried. Broadway is her dream; it isn't her life. No matter how important it may seem, she isn't there yet. Something Puck said rings in her ears.

"_It's not like you're going to Broadway right this second!"_

Maybe he has a point. Can she just let go of everything she's ever worked towards, though? Can she try to live for herself, truly? She's been living for her dreams, for her future, for her expectations. Not for herself.

But can she really learn to live for a hobbit with a big voice, a bigger personality, and an even bigger regret?

She knows the first thing she'll do (if she can learn to do it at all). It may be extraordinarily difficult, but she's still going to try. She won't let him get away from her again. He's followed her, and followed her, and followed her. She's thrown herself into his path more times than she can count. They've tried to leave each other countless times, but he's always there in her thoughts. She knows she's in his too. She's wanted to be independent from him for as long as she can remember knowing him. She can't forget him. She's tried. They're like a fairytale. The prince and the princess, brought together by fate.

She just hopes she isn't too late for their happy ending.

**Review?**


	7. Reality

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee**

Quinn will never be the same. That, she's sure of. And she knows that Beth was the reason for her change. The name stirs up painful memories, ones she'd rather not think about at the moment. Beth made her so much stronger, but also weaker. Quinn was scared. She needed help. And only one person was there when she needed support the most.

But even he left after all of it.

No, that isn't being fair. She left too, in her own way. She withdrew into herself so deep that it was impossible to come back out. Quinn is still in there, somewhere, but she isn't planning on coming out any time soon. Quinn was hated. People despised Quinn. Quinn was such a stereotypical blonde cheerleader it was nearly impossible not to judge her.

The girl Quinn has become is different. She'll never go back to the cruel words, the shallow desires, or the flips of her hair that said more than she ever could. This girl isn't confident enough to throw out biting one-liners with the ease that Quinn had. This girl's glare can't vaporize people twice her size. This girl is afraid.

Sure, she responds to Quinn. But every time she turns around, all she's thinking is '_Lie, lie, lie.'_

Xxx

At lunch, Quinn usually sits at the Glee table. She doesn't participate in conversations too often, but even this new girl she's become hates to even imagine sitting alone. It doesn't matter that Glee kids are only one step up from that.

A step is a step, after all.

Today, though, she's going to start finding herself. It might sound completely cliché, but she likes to think that she lost herself along with Beth, and she's beginning a new chapter in her life. She took Kurt's words to heart. Maybe she _can_ start over. Maybe this is the world giving her another chance. Or maybe she really is lost.

The only way to find out is to try, she supposes. Turning to Blaine, who is the only person at the table who didn't know her before the whole Baby gate debacle, she initiates a conversation.

"Hi," she says, feeling ridiculous. They're already halfway through lunch.

"Hey Quinn," _lie_ (the word stings), "What's up?"

"Not much. You?"

"Same old, same old. I was thinking about getting Kurt and I tickets to see RENT at the community center next week, though."

She smiles warmly. "He'd love that."

"I hope so."

She just nods politely.

It's painful how careful she's being.

She's on her tiptoes. She wouldn't want anything to break.

And with that bitter, sarcastic thought, her world crashes down around her. She's giving it up, once and for all. Not just her supposed journey to self-discovery, but her fear. She gives up her hatred, her insecurities, her patience, and her anger.

She's empty.

"I- I have to go."

And with that, she's gone.

Xxx

She leaves school early that day. Her mom hovers at first, asking question after question. No, she isn't sick. Yes, her head hurts. No, she doesn't need anything. Only when she feigns sleep does she get to be alone. Only when she's pretending can she have silence.

The room feels louder, somehow.

Finally away from concerned presences, she allows herself to think. In the lunchroom, she decided to give up. Pretending isn't going to cut it anymore. But how can she stop pretending when she doesn't know what was behind it all? She groans audibly.

"Quinnie, dear? Are you all right? Do you need some water?"

"No, Mom, I'm fine. Just tired."

"Okay, just holler if you need anything."

Her mom's muffled voice does less than nothing to improve her mood. She just lies there listlessly, consumed by a desire to do absolutely nothing. She doesn't want to figure her life out. She doesn't want to get calls and visits from friends asking if she's all right (like that would happen). And she really, really doesn't want to have to deal with the aftermath of her decision. Not that there needs to be an aftermath…no one actually knows what she's doing.

No. She can't keep living a lie.

_What will you be living, then?_

She ignores the question her mind poses. She never said she had the answers.

Xxx

Day one of being herself (whoever that is) is about to begin, and Quinn is posed with a problem so shallow she almost laughs at herself. She has absolutely no idea what to wear. Pulling out various options, she finds herself getting more and more frustrated. She doesn't even recognize herself anymore.

Looking into the mirror, she's curious. As she raises her hand, so does the girl staring back at her. It tilts its head at the same time that she tilts hers, and the blinks are synchronized. It's a perfect likeness.

Why does it look like a stranger?

She holds up a favorite dress of hers from last year, watching with a sort of detached interest as Quinn does the same. The warm tone looks radiant against her skin, and she smiles. And just the sensation of a smile makes her feel somewhat better, even if it isn't real.

She looks sad. Even with a smile on her face and a dress pressed up against her body, she's sad. Her bitch glare is still fully intact, and her ice queen expressions are all fully functional. Her hair tosses are still deadly; she knows that. But she isn't sure if she can handle everything inside of her. The emotions are flitting through her mind: happy, sad, angry, and scared. But they aren't really emotions. There aren't any triggers around. They're shadows of what they once were. She thinks back to her pregnancy, where everything was magnified a million times. It's the opposite now.

She can't feel anything.

The thoughts of the pregnancy bring Beth to mind. An image of the fair-haired girl flashes through, but she pushes it away with a pang. She misses Beth dearly. That much she'll admit. And Puck would have made an excellent father. As much as it hurts her to think about her short times with him, she does. She misses him, too. She misses all of it. While it was happening, she couldn't wait for it to be over.

Now she'd give almost anything to have it back.

Huh. Hurt is hurt, and pain is pain, but they're something. She clings to them. She finds the littlest sliver of hope in the flickering emotions, and she holds on tightly.

She doesn't know what will happen if she lets go.

Xxx

She finally settles on her favorite pair of jeans (the ones that fit _perfectly_), and a simple, flowy white shirt. It's basic, and it's far more casual than anything she would have worn last year, but it fits. As she walks through the halls, she keeps her science book close to her.

She doesn't have science until after lunch, but it's the biggest, most solid book she has. And even if it is a little bit unrealistic, it's comforting. She ignores the stares the best she can.

"'Sup, mom?" she hears from behind her.

She throws a withering glance at the jerk that's brave enough to try that. She's quite tempted to roll her eyes, but she likes her clothes dry and ice-free, thank you very much.

She keeps her head down, and realizes that with her hair down the way it is, and her clothes as inconspicuous as they are, many people won't even recognize her. Not that she minds. Being invisible for a while sounds nice. The thought is strangely ironic.

The girl who's worked her whole life to be noticed is taking comfort in anonymity.

She continues to trudge through the halls, rarely looking up. When she finally makes it to calculus, she lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding. This is familiar. In class she doesn't have to pretend to be anything she isn't. She sits in the back, maintains an A, and does it all without speaking a word. She carefully takes notes, making sure they're far neater and more complete than they need to be. It gives her something to focus on. And if she thinks too hard about math, it won't make her question her identity. Something must be wrong here, though. Did she really just compare math to her life? And did she really choose math?

The rest of the class passes in a blur of too detailed diagrams and over-attentive listening. She can't help but think that that class was the calmest she's been in a long time.

But the day is far from over.

Xxx

It only takes one person to recognize her for the jeers to start flowing in her direction.

"Fabray? You look trashed!"

"What happened to you?"

"Watch it, loser."

"Look what the fashion-challenged cat dragged in."

"Hey Q! You think moving out of the way is hard? Try running a marathon with two broken legs and a heart condition! That's hard!"

"Quinn? Are you all right? You look a little bit down."

The last call to her takes a moment to register in her mind. _Not an insult_. She turns slowly, as if she would break by moving too suddenly.

"I'm fine, thank you."

His brow crinkles in concern and she tries to telepathically tell him to leave her alone. The last things she needs right now are reminders of her past. Unfortunately, that's not what Finn has in mind. He grabs her book (darn him) and walks her all the way to English. It draws an eerie parallel to the same time two years ago. But this time they aren't talking, or flirting, or holding hands. They aren't the school's power couple. They aren't fake. Not anymore.

Finn has Rachel now. Quinn used to be jealous of the midget. She used to feel so much envy that it seemed to eat her alive. She used to lash out in the ways she knew best. She still to this day knows exactly what to say to hurt Rachel Berry, and no matter how cool she looks, she knows how to get to her. Rachel knows how to put up a convincing front.

Fortunately, so does Quinn.

"Listen, I know we aren't, you know, together anymore. But I kind of wish you were happier. You just seem so _sad_ lately. Is something wrong?"

She smiles, knowing while she does so how brittle it looks. "Everything. But I don't expect you to understand. It's all right."

"Why does no one think I understand?"

He looks so much like the boy he used to be. Like the boy who used to think it was possible to impregnate someone in a hot tub. Like the boy who drove her around in a wheelchair. Like the boy who took her to prom. Like the boy who took her first kiss (and let her take his).

Her times with Finn were when she was at her highest. Everything was so easy back then. Sure, the smiles were lampshades, but did it ever really matter? You couldn't see through them, per se, but there was always the promise of something hidden beneath them.

Now his smiles are genuine, and hers are anything but. She can't help but feel she got the short end of the stick when their relationship ended.

Xxx

Music is her escape.

It surrounds her, it covers her, and it protects her. It drowns out white noise in the background. Things are clearer when she can forget the real world for just a moment. Everything is different. It's like being underwater. She feels weight pressing down on her, and she can't stay under forever. Sometimes it's overwhelming, the amount of emotion she feels emanating from a song.

She feels normal. Like maybe she isn't so different after all. Every second she lets music speak for her, she feels lighter. It's as if her burdens aren't necessarily _hers_ anymore. They're everyone's. And that makes her life easier to deal with. Of course, there's always a time when the ear buds come out, and reality sets back in.

It's in the fleeting moments when Finn's eyes are full of something unlike she's ever seen. That happens when he looks at Rachel. It's in the way Puck glares moodily out of the window, pretending that his reputation matters to a bunch of misfits. It's in the way Mr. Schuester hardly ever addresses her directly anymore because he knows she has nothing to say.

But that doesn't really matter in the big picture. Because she feels the least reserved when she's moving her body, singing with all she has with people she barely consider to be her friends.

Glee club started out as a joke. Now it's her life.

Xxx

The school year is winding down. She's turned in many of her textbooks and her classes mainly revolve around final reviews in preparation for the dreaded tests. It's almost graduation. The only class without a final is Glee, unsurprisingly. They've been rehearsing their piece (written by Tina, oddly enough) for the last several days, but today will be different. They're just going to be talking to each other. Reminiscing, she supposes. People will sing (don't they always?) and people will cry. It'll be heartbreakingly sweet and painful when Quinn doesn't join in.

She can already knows that she won't. What would she say? _Hey guys, remember that time when I actually knew what was going on in my life? How great was that?_

A feeling of dread settles in the pit of her stomach as she makes her way to history, her last class before she faces her real friends. Though it hasn't seemed like they care an awful lot about how she's been. When have they ever, though?

The only time she felt worth caring about was that dark time when she didn't even deign talk to a single one of them (with the exception of Finn, as well as Puck. But those two were expected). She walks into the classroom silent and alone. But isn't it always like that nowadays? Her voice of reason tells her it doesn't have to be this way. She's doing it to herself.

Something makes her feel like she deserves it. Like putting herself through all of this will make up for her past mistakes. No one else is punishing her, so she's punishing herself. It makes sense, in a twisted way. She's clinging to the shred of logic that resides in the idea with a fierceness she didn't know she possessed.

She takes her seat numbly, thoughts still racing though she tries to focus on the lesson. She's startled when a note lands on her desk. It's folded neatly into quarters, edges crisp. She opens it quietly, wincing as she hears it crackle slightly, but the teacher doesn't look up once.

_Hi! How are you feeling? You didn't look so great yesterday. –Blaine_

She hastily prints a response, hiding the offending object surreptitiously under her notes.

**I'm better, thank you. I was just a little bit under the weather. –Quinn**

With another quick glance towards the front of the room, she refolds the paper. She turns back to see Megan, a former Cheerio, sitting behind her, and she nods. The understanding mutual, her note finds its way back to Blaine. For a fleeting moment she'd actually wanted to tell the truth. But even if she did, it couldn't be through a note.

_Sorry to hear that, but it's good that you're feeling better. Did you need yesterday's homework? I have it with me. –Blaine _

**That would be great, thanks. I'll just grab it on the way to Glee. –Quinn**

_Sounds like a plan. –Blaine _

She rereads the note after she gets it back, distantly amused at how formal they're being. She can't imagine he's that formal with Kurt or Mercedes. Heck, she's _seen_ him acting absolutely ridiculous. When he's on stage, or telling a story, he's like a different person. An interesting, fun, bright person.

A person Quinn wants to know.

So she decides to figure him out.

**What are you doing after school today? –Quinn**

She sends it without hesitating. Maybe helping him come out of his shell will help her come out of hers. It's worth a shot.

Xxx

The adrenaline she got from her random act of bravery is wearing off more and more the closer they get to the choir room. Blaine is talking about something or another, but she isn't really listening. All she wants is to quiet the rapid fluttering of her heart for just a moment. She misses the courage she used to have, back when nothing could shake her.

She's fragile enough now to be swayed by a breeze.

Her steps slow, and she wants to veer towards the bathroom. She wants to turn to Blaine right now and tell him she can't do this. She wants to turn around and walk. He couldn't stop her, could he? What right would he have? But even as she thinks this she knows she's being a coward. Summoning her inner queen bee (because no matter how unnatural it feels, she's still an expert at going through the motions), she holds her head high and narrows her eyes. The difference is almost imperceptible.

But now, her steps are purposeful rather than timid. And so is she.

Xxx

She's sitting in the top row of the bleachers, face smooth and serene. Beside her is Blaine (the only person who isn't constantly judging her), and below her sit Mercedes and Tina. Rachel is several seats away, swaying to her I-Pod, and every so often she sneaks fleeting glances at Finn. Puck, once again, is ignoring everyone around him but Finn. They're talking about some movie or video game revolving around something with plenty of violence.

Brittany is perched between Artie and Santana, completely oblivious to the thinly veiled insults they're flinging at each other. That isn't surprising. Brittany is a constant. No matter how much people change, she's the one they can count on to stay the same.

Quinn wishes she had that. She wishes she didn't have to wonder.

Mr. Schue steps up signaling with his hands that everyone quiet down. His vest is as hideous as always, the unfailing brown mixed with several other colors Quinn can't name, other than the fact that they look equally dull on the scratchy wool.

"Today's a day to remember Glee club, and all of our incredible experiences together as a club. Whether you were here from day one," a few cheers can be heard, "or just joined us," they all turn to smile at their newest member, "we've had plenty of great times, and some not so great ones, too. But today is our chance to flesh everything out, reminisce, and get closure. So let's party!"

They all groan good naturedly at his blatant excitement, and within about three seconds of silence, Rachel is talking. Not that Quinn is surprised. Nobody is.

"Well, I'd like to start off by saying how much you all have changed my life for the better. I know that some of us didn't get along too well," Santana scoffs, "but I wanted you guys to know how much this club means to me."

Several people 'awh,' and Puck rolls his eyes, but Quinn is just jealous. If you'd asked her two years ago if she'd ever be jealous of Rachel Berry, Quinn would have laughed in your face. Now, she just wants what Rachel has. She wants to be able to say that even though no one here is her absolute best friend, they still changed her life. She wants to be able to say she finally belongs.

But the truth is, joining this club made her a misfit. She used to belong. Now she doesn't. It's as simple as that.

She dimly registers Brittany talking about families and how they have become one. If they're a family, she's a distant cousin. They all know her, and they know she's part of them, but she isn't considered central. She isn't the same.

It's just too much for her. She can't sit here and pretend everything is perfectly awesome when she's a mess. And there's only one way she knows how to express that. No one is surprised when she stands up and whispers in Brad's ear. It's like she told Blaine on the first day. They all sing for the same reasons.

It's her turn now.

The piano begins softly, and she gets a few confused looks. Ignoring them, she waits for her cue. Once the beats are all counted, she takes a breath, letting the words speak for her.

_You don't know how I'm feeling  
>When the whispers contain my name<br>You don't understand the way I am_

_You won't look me in the eye  
>When I send a cry for help<br>You don't understand the things I need_

_Oh, a simple misunderstanding  
>Oh, leads to a place called nowhere<br>Oh, a simple miscommunication  
>Oh, leaves me alone<br>_

_You believe my plastic smiles  
>When they're anything but real<br>Just take a look at me now and see_

_The way I'm not myself  
>When I'm talking right to you<br>You don't understand the way I was_

_Oh, a simple misunderstanding  
>Oh, leads to a place called nowhere<br>Oh, a simple miscommunication  
>Oh, leaves me alone<em>

She breaks off there, letting the piano die down in the background. Her voice isn't typically suited for such a harsh sound, but the chorus is exactly what she needed. The rawness in her voice is almost surprising.

Almost, but not quite.

Xxx

_Where were you when I was_

_Slipping away?_

_Where was the love you_

_Promised me?_

_What happened to_

_'We'll be all right?'_

_Because I'm not_

Xxx

She takes her seat calmly, but her traitorous heart is pounding. She never was used to the spotlight. She feels several pairs of eyes on her, but she stares resolutely ahead.

"That was very heartfelt Quinn. Is there anything you'd like to say?" Her teacher's voice is inviting, but she ignores the desire to respond. Her ponytail swings gently as she shakes her head. She's said all she needed to say. It's their fault if they weren't listening.

"I think that her song choice said it all, Mr. Schue."

Leave it to the one girl Quinn thought she'd never stop hating to be the only one to understand. Her throat constricts, and she nods gratefully. Looking around, she tries to figure out if anyone else noticed.

Finn is the first to meet her gaze, unsurprisingly. Just as soon as she lifts her eyebrow, though, he turns to Rachel. She studiously avoids him. Kurt's looking at the ground, suddenly very interested in his shoes. Blaine is watching her carefully, and she can see the obvious concern written in his expression. But that concern seems ever-present with the people he surrounds himself with.

Only one other face stands out. His jaw is clenched, hands balled into fists. It isn't abnormal in the slightest. He seems the same as ever. But that's only at first glance. Because she shifts her line of sight just the tiniest bit, and she almost gasps. She's only seen him like this once. She remembers holding up the slip with that plus sign. She remembers telling him it's Finn's. She remembers trying to give up on him. She remembers the way he looked. It's mirrored now, in this moment.

Shining in his eyes are bright, glassy tears.

Xxx

_Hey, did you mind if Kurt comes over too? His dad had a last minute emergency at the shop and I picked him up. –Blaine_

_No problem. –Quinn_

She wants to smile to herself. She would have last year. But lately, smiling makes her feel so hollow. Having Kurt there makes her plan so much easier. Not that it's really a plan, but the idea remains the same. She will be with the person she wants to figure out and the one person who already has. She's happy, she tells herself.

She just doesn't believe it.

Xxx

Her doorbell rings, echoing loudly in the empty house. Her mother is still at work, like Quinn knew she would be. Checking through the window that the bell was, in fact, rung by two teenage boys and not a random stranger, she walks over to open the door.

The two smile warmly at her, and she steps aside to let them in. Blaine is tugging awkwardly at his scarf and Kurt smacks his hand. They all settle into the brown couch in the living room (Quinn pushing memories of her and Finn sitting on the very same couch _far_ out of her mind).

Like the polite host her mother has raised her to be, she asks if they would like anything to drink.

"Just some water for me," replies Kurt, crossing his legs.

"Do you have soda?" asks Blaine.

"Ignore him. Trust me, you do _not_ want to see him on sugar."

"Hey! Not cool, Kurt, not cool." He pouts, but Quinn can see him fighting a smile.

"I'll be right back with a water and a Coke," she chooses to reply, winking at Blaine brashly. Kurt sighs exasperatedly.

"Don't say I didn't warn you, Fabray. If he starts climbing on your furniture, I reserve the right to say I told you so."

"Furniture?" She hears the confusion in her voice clearly as she rises from the couch.

"Nothing," Blaine says too quickly.

She feels the urge to laugh bubble up inside of her, so she does. It's short and sweet, but she feels much lighter than she has in a long time. She goes to the kitchen and fills three glasses: one with water, one with Coke, and one with iced tea that's her mom's. She debates bringing a tray, but decides against it. If she's going to break the rules, she might as well break all of them.

It seems ridiculous to her that her bravery is reduced to overlooking coasters, but the perspiration dripping onto the wooden table is making her perversely happy.

One hour later, Quinn finds out firsthand exactly what Kurt meant.

"Why am I so hyper?" Blaine wonders aloud from where he's perched on top of her bookshelf. She doesn't even know how he got up there without breaking his neck.

"Told you so," Kurt singsongs under his breath. Quinn just turns to Blaine, but her smirk is amused.

"Blaine, can you come down from there?" she coaxes, trying to sound gentle.

Rather than climbing down like a normal person (not that a normal person would be in his place anyways), he jumps, lands on his feet, somersaults, and ends up on the other side of the room. She nearly has a heart attack, but Kurt just rolls his eyes.

"He's kind of like a hyperactive puppy, isn't he? I know it's shocking, I fell for his outward charm too, at first."

"He's still in the room!" Blaine's head pops up from behind the loveseat and Quinn bites back a laugh, trying to look stern.

"No more climbing, okay?"

"But sitting still is so boring!"

"Are you sure you didn't slip something in his drink? He's reminding me of how he was after Rachel's party." The accused party turns bright red at this.

"I'm sure. And to be honest, that doesn't surprise me," Quinn teases. She can't remember the last time she actually teased somebody.

By the time Blaine crashes (and crash he does), Quinn's mom is already home. She smiles softly at her daughter and Quinn smiles back brightly. Her wave is peppy and a bit too enthusiastic.

And the best part is, it finally feels real.

**A/N: Well, this ends Act 1 of the story! I'd like to start by thanking everyone who's been reading (and especially you reviewers!). Just so this is clear, if Quinn seems OOC, it's because she is, in a way. I've made her character AU after season 1 because I haven't liked the character she's become. So this is my way of rewriting her. Thanks again for reading, and stay tuned for Act 2!**

**Review?**


	8. A shift

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee**

Finn is more confused than ever. He thought (misguidedly) that Rachel wanted him too. And he was right. But she doesn't want him _enough_. He understands that she has dreams; so does he. But is it honestly his fault if their dreams don't exactly match up? He doesn't think so.

There's no way that would be fair.

They've been through so much. It would be cruel if they were hurt again after all of the kissing and fighting and yelling and singing. He never would have guessed that Rachel isn't something he can find; she's something he discovered when he finally found himself. And he knows he must be in love (the real kind) when he starts using touchés.

Besides, even Kurt thinks that Finn and Rachel should be together. Maybe he hasn't actually said it out loud, but Finn can tell. He's good at figuring these things out. Especially because Kurt doesn't roll his eyes whenever Finn says her name anymore. And he knows it's a lot. A lot more than he should. He should feel bad about wanting her so badly, because he knows how badly it's killing her.

It's killing him too.

He doesn't understand what he did wrong. He doesn't understand what he's _doing_ wrong. Her reason for leaving him is simple but there's nothing he can do about it. He can't change a thing. He can't reach out and change his dreams any more than he can change hers. He used to think she was a dream that he had a chance at. Now he doesn't want her to be a dream at all. Dreams are tearing them apart.

He wants her to be a reality.

Xxx

Blaine saw it yesterday. He usually just lets people do their own thing (for the most part, kind of), but he could tell she was hurting. He also knows how strong she is. If anyone can handle what she's gone through, it's her. But even so, he's been concerned. Call it instinct, but Blaine is used to taking care of things. His mom used to say that if there were something wrong within a mile of him, he'd try to fix it. It seems like this was the case with Quinn. She's been reserved, quiet, lonely.

He needn't have worried.

He honestly doesn't know what possessed him to climb on top of the bookcase. Even with the theatrics, though (that was the sugar moving, he swears), he and Kurt helped. He knows that for certain. It's the first time he's ever seen her look so carefree. It's the first time he's ever really seen her smile.

It's the first time he really feels like he knows Quinn Fabray.

Her image is caught in his mind. He was half asleep when Mrs. Fabray walked in, but awake enough to capture her grin. In his picture, her eyes are sparkling, her teeth blinding. He's starting to realize how this girl used to have the entire school wrapped around her little finger.

But the more he gets to know her, the more he thinks that there must have been something more than the baby that made her disappear.

Xxx

Puck doesn't know what's happening to him. He's going…soft. It hurts him to admit it more than it should, but he knows it's true. Because there's a girl on his mind. A girl with green eyes that somehow seem feline, hair light and straight, and a lost identity. This isn't the same girl he's been obsessing over for over two months. And this girl is definitely in no shape to boss him around, especially after the whole…you know…thing…they went through.

What's wrong with him?

But he seriously can't get her out of his head. He just wants things to go back to normal, but Lauren hasn't even called. Not once. And distance has definitely not made the heart grow fonder. It's just making him realize that Lauren was a distraction. A phase. She just realized it a long time before he did.

But now that the distraction is gone, he's finding that it's harder and harder to watch the girl _she'_s become. It's his fault. He'll never be able to forgive himself. She'll never look at him the way he looks at her.

It's like the world has finally caught on to all of the crappy things he's done. He's finally being punished.

Xxx

Kurt is happier than he's been in a very long time. Sure, he and Blaine had a bump in the road, but a bump is a bump. It isn't anything to be concerned about. He's learning so many new things about his boyfriend (boyfriend!) with every passing day. And if they're helping others while they do so, it's even sweeter.

He remembers the days when he was afraid far more clearly than he wishes he did. The fear was all-encompassing. He remembers flinching at every locker slam and wincing when any form of cold drink came within five feet of him. But it isn't any use remembering when the present is upon him.

Especially when you consider how much more pleasant the future will be.

He's so happy it feels surreal. It can't be possible. Kurt Hummel isn't supposed to be happy, it's just not the way it is. Look at what happened with Glee club. He gets in, he's happy, the bullying amps up. Then he makes a new (attractive _and_ gay) best friend. Of course, following that is the kiss/death threat from Karofsky. He and Finn start living together, and then Finn calls him…that.

He just can't believe that nothing has gone wrong yet.

People have told him all his life that he deserves happiness. His dad, Mercedes, Tina, they've all been nothing but supportive. He just never had any reason to believe them when the evidence is right there. And it's pointing to a place very far away from happiness.

This, this is madness. It's fragile. It could shatter at any moment. Heck, based on the way his life's been, it _should_ shatter at any moment. And he's terrified.

This is one of those times where the thing he stands to lose has the power to break him.

Xxx

Rachel had to learn her life lessons the hard way. Though having two gay dads certainly has its perks (hello, Broadway musical nights?), it also has some downfalls. One of these being a lack of heart to hearts. Sure, her dads are very touchy-feely, and excellent listeners, but they never go out of their way to teach Rachel things that aren't absolutely necessary to her survival.

_She's holding Daddy's hand, skipping happily into the mall. Pointing out her favorite clothing store, she almost trips with anticipation._

"_Daddy! There it is! Look, can you see how perfect it is?" she asks, clenching her little fingers exuberantly. The object in question is a skirt. It isn't just any skirt, though. Rachel Berry only deserves a skirt that can live up to her reputation. This one can. It's bright, sparkly, and it extends out at least six inches in every direction. It has showmanship._

"_I see, Rachel, I see. Now calm down before Dad has a heart attack. He isn't into sparkles as much as you are." This is accompanied by a sly wink, making Rachel giggle. Daddy is always on her side._

_She gives his hand another impatient tug, tapping her bedazzled shoes with a precise meter. She didn't grow up around music for nothing. Dad finally catches up, and they walk at an excruciatingly slow pace into the store. Her eyes grow to the size of saucers as they pass the window with 'the skirt.' _

"_My, Rachel. Don't you want to try it on first?" Dad asks, stopping her in her tracks. She'd grabbed the only one left on the shelf and ran as fast as her little legs could take her to the checkout counter._

_She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's the last one. Come on, Dad, I love it so much! It _has_ to fit. It's perfect!"_

_The saleslady chimes in with a helpful, "How darling!"_

_And soon Rachel is beaming, swinging the bright blue bag happily in her hand as they walk to the car._

_One hour later, the errands are done and Rachel is ready to wear her new prize. Lifting it out of the plastic, she takes a moment to admire the way it shines. She and the skirt, they're similar. Unique and bold. She quickly shimmies out of her sweatpants, pulling the skirt high up onto her waist._

_It falls immediately._

_Not letting anything deter her, Rachel pulls it up again. She's more careful this time, holding so that it can settle onto her slim hips._

_Her smile falters the slightest bit once it's pooled around her feet, but she is struck by inspiration. With a whispered, "It's perfect," to encourage herself, she grabs her favorite belt from last year, only to find that it's too small. She tries shoelaces, tape, and even glue, but nothing can keep the skirt from drooping pathetically._

_When her Daddy finally finds her sobbing in her room, he's confused. _

"_It was so perfect!" she cries, "It was supposed to be perfect!"_

_He tells her she can get another one somewhere else, but sometimes Daddy just doesn't understand._

That is the day that Rachel learns a valuable lesson, one she would have done well not to have forgotten:

Loving something doesn't always make it fit.

Xxx

It might be happening for her. Quinn's mom always told her she was a fighter. It was painfully ironic before, when she'd all but given up, but she just might have found a spark. The very spark she needs to move on.

She's been thinking about the past a lot lately, but the pain's been duller. After over a year, acceptance is coming. But it's coming slowly. She still gets tears in her eyes when she watches commercials for baby shampoo, and she still can't stand to see the look in her almost-boyfriend's eyes when he glares out the window. It's hard. It's so hard to see that and know it's her fault.

Yes, he was technically the one who started it all. But they'd had moments. Fleeting chances to make everything right. But she knows she's always been a coward. She let him down. She let them all down, and now she's paying the consequences. Or, at least she _was_ paying the consequences.

Things are finally looking up. If there ever was a time to try to fix things, it's now. But she isn't so sure if she can. It feels like they've dug a hole far too deep. _No_. Her inner coward is speaking. She wants to be stronger, doesn't she?

She does.

She'd better start climbing.

Xxx

They're slowly but surely getting closer. They don't know what's happening; none of them are aware of the subtle shift. But it's happening all the same. They will all have struggles to come, and they will all put struggles behind them. These struggles are what are shaping them into the people they are and the people they will become.

They'll never be the same.

Some of them are more intuitive than others. Even so, they still have a long way to go before things can really change. It isn't easy to make a new friend.

It's even harder to make an old one.

**Review?**


	9. Progress

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee**

He thinks he's earned the right to be a little bit confused.

He's heard the stories from Kurt countless times (those long days at Dalton were perfect for getting to know each other), but a lot of things aren't clicking in his head right now. The Finn and Rachel thing he understands, but that's obvious. What's weird is when he tries to picture Finn and Quinn together, or Rachel and Puck. Kurt and Brittany? He's still trying to wrap his mind around that one.

And all this time, Kurt was right. New Directions is better than a soap opera. Lately, though, it seems like the drama has been…different. Not better or worse, but of a different kind. He remembers how Kurt explained it.

"_The dynamic seems a bit off, don't you think?" asked Kurt one lazy Sunday afternoon. The graduation ceremony was still over a week away, but the club was practicing constantly. It had to be perfect._

"_I guess. I didn't really get to see much of it before though."_

"_It just feels like everyone is sadder. And trust me, the whole sad thing totally blew over last winter. It's almost summer! We're supposed to be happy, excited, and in love!"_

"_We are," he smiled._

"_Not just _us_. Everyone!" Kurt rolled his eyes, and Blaine felt a surge of warmth go through him._

"_What do you suggest we do about it?" A mischievous glint lit up his eyes._

"_We could do anything," Kurt breathed, sensing a change in the atmosphere around them. Blaine felt it too._

"_We could."_

_Blaine raised his eyebrows questioningly. With the slightest nod from Kurt, he leaned closer, closer, closer still. _

_It was over in a moment, but he was breathless for a long time after._

Xxx

"Hey Quinn, how are you?" he asks courteously, watching her as she perches on the edge of her seat during history. Since the year is almost over, their teacher has been paying less and less attention to the seating arrangement.

"I'm better," she replies. She doesn't elaborate. She never does. Blaine is starting to think he can see a pattern.

"That's good to hear. Are you ready for summer?" His voice is amicable, his tone friendly.

"So, so ready." He's surprised at how tired she sounds. A gentle flip of her hair has her facing the front of the classroom, making her obviously closed to him.

He bites back a sigh of frustration when the teacher begins his lecture about preparing for finals and considers sending her a note. He holds back only because he has a sneaking suspicion that she isn't above tearing it in two.

Metaphors are important, after all.

Xxx

It's completely irrational, this fear he has. It shouldn't make any sense whatsoever. It doesn't make any sense whatsoever. It happened in the past. He's beyond it.

But it somehow keeps coming back to haunt him.

He knows that they've grown up, and that Puck isn't Noah anymore, not really. But every time he walks by in the halls, Blaine wants to turn away. He wants to run, or hide, or even yell childish things at the boy who helped to make his early life a living hell. There's only one thing keeping him sane.

A smile, a look, a reassuring touch to his arm. Sure, he doesn't have as many classes with him as he'd like, but Blaine is taking any time he can get. He practically lives at Kurt's house anyways; he isn't all that welcome at home.

Fathers like Burt aren't easy to come by. Especially when your father was proud when you were on track to go to Princeton (his alma mater) and had a 'darling' girl living next door. It's mainly the fact that the family she comes from is well to do that makes her darling, though.

Needless to say, his father isn't quite so proud anymore.

Two years ago, this would have broken Blaine's heart. Now, he just feels numb. He doesn't need them anymore. He's gotten good at going at it on his own. He boarded at Dalton, he joined the soccer team, he got a summer job. He did everything he could to be independent. He's proved to himself that he doesn't need them anymore.

It doesn't mean he doesn't miss them.

It hasn't been easy raising himself since he came out to them. It may have been only three years, but they were the longest three years of his life. And they aren't ever going to end.

He always has to grin and bear it. He always needs a smile on his face. He always has to pretend everything is perfectly fine. He's sick of it.

He's starting to think that maybe reaching out to other people is a way of hiding his pain. It's a wall to hide behind. It's a distraction from his own life.

There are far worse things to be distracted by.

Xxx

He doesn't know how he ended up here.

All he knows is that he probably looks extremely weak right now. He hasn't cried in over a year. He's been stronger lately. Now the tears are streaming down his face like they're making up for lost time. He's sniffling pathetically, tugging his knees to his chest, and he refuses to look up.

"Dude, seriously, you have to tell me what happened. They didn't like, hurt you, or anything, did they? Cuz I could totally go and set them straight for you."

Shuddering, he shakes his head. He wants to talk, to tell exactly what happened, but he's struggling with coherent thoughts, let alone actual words. He knows from experience that his voice is pretty much inaudible when he's crying. The seatbelt digs into his lower back cruelly when he leans against the worn down leather of Finn's pickup truck.

"Did they mess with you at all? Did they call you something, or tell you something? Come on, man, you have to give me something to work with."

He swallows thickly. "Told me something," he rasps.

"What'd they say?"

"Threatened," is all he manages to get out before another shiver wracks his body violently. He feels hot shame burning on his cheeks. It's like he's a little kid again, hiding from his parents in his room. He used to wait hours in there until they got home, just sobbing his eyes out.

He's gotten especially good at forging parent notes. Leaving school early without an acceptable reason (at least, according to his father) does that to you.

"Threatened? Seriously? Like, what?" There's a slightly panicked tinge to Finn's voice now.

_Get a grip, Anderson_, he tells himself sternly. With a tremendous effort, he quiets his tears enough to speak. "They told me that if I- didn't stop spreading _fairy dust_- around the school, they'd get me and Kurt a-alone."

Finn's eyes widen until they're nearly round. "Who?" he whispers.

"Don't know their names. On the football team," he gasps. His sentences are rushed and a bit broken, but he never expected less after a crying episode that monumental.

"I could talk to Bieste for you. And we should probably tell the other Glee guys, they could help. We almost had like a full on security thing for Kurt, but then he kind of just went to Dalton. It would've worked though, honestly."

"Thanks, but it's fine." He smiles. But the smile is a bit watery. He doesn't think it will work. And does Finn honestly think that a bunch of guys Blaine doesn't even know very well will be his security detail?

Disgusted with himself and the situation he's in, he reluctantly lets Finn help him out of his old, beat up truck.

"Do you want me to like, carry you, or something?" he asks when Blaine shows some difficulty standing up.

A withering glare is all it takes for Finn's hands to go up in mock surrender. "Sorry man, just trying to help."

He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. "No, _I'm_ sorry. You've been nothing but kind and I've been extremely rude. I can walk on my own, though, thanks."

"Need a ride home?"

"No, it'll be fine."

The walk is almost an hour, but at the moment, Blaine doesn't care. He'll need the time to get himself together. He hasn't shed one single tear in front of his parents since he scraped his knee in second grade. It's a record he isn't too keen to break.

With an angry swipe at his eyes, he grabs his backpack, slings it over his shoulder, and begins the trek away from his nightmares and into the night.

Xxx

"Mom? I'm home!" he calls out into the house as he opens the door. His tears have long since dried and he's fairly certain that his appearance is as normal as it's going to get under the circumstances. One more sweep of a hand through his hair is all he gets before his mom steps into the front room.

"Good. You're late, you know. Is something wrong?" There's concern evident in her hazel eyes as they watch him carefully. He knows those eyes. They're nearly identical to his own.

"No, Glee rehearsal went long and my car broke down so I had to take it to the shop. I should be able to pick it up by tomorrow. A friend gave me a ride." It's mostly the truth.

"Was it that boy I always see you with?" she asks, winking. Blaine wants to crawl into a hole. Ever since he came out to his parents, it's been this way. His dad acting as if nothing happened at all, and his mom trying way too hard to be the 'cool, accepting mom' she really isn't. It's all so fake it makes him want to scream, or hit something, or curl up into a ball and shut his eyes. He wants to be able to show his anger physically in one way or another. But he can't. He's the picture-perfect son of the businessman and his trophy wife.

"No, mom, it wasn't. It was his step-brother, Finn? The really, really tall one?"

"Don't know him. You know how I feel about getting rides from strangers…"

"He's Kurt's stepbrother and he's in Glee! I knew him when I was at Dalton! He definitely isn't a stranger."

"All right, all right," she says placatingly, "How was school?"

"Fine. I have a lot of homework." That's a lie. McKinley's classes are almost a joke compared to Dalton's. But lying to his parents is second nature. And he really doesn't want to explain anything to his mom beyond what he absolutely has to.

With a heaving sigh, he throws his bag onto his bed and pulls out his phone. Unsurprisingly, he has a new message from Kurt. It's a simple hello.

Rather than text back, Blaine hits Call.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

_Hello, you've reached the ever-fabulous Kurt Hummel. Chances are, I'm doing something that is far more interesting than talking to you. Call me back when I'm not!_

Beep.

"Hey Kurt, it's Blaine. Um, I guess I just wanted to talk to you. So call me back when you get this? Okay, bye then, I guess…"

He hangs up, mentally berating himself. He's supposed to be the smooth one, the perfect one. That wasn't even remotely witty or clever. It was just painfully awkward.

Xxx

_Hey, you've reached Blaine Anderson. I'm not here right now, so if you'd leave your name, number, and message, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. No Wes, I will not say Warblers rock. I'm not a Warbler anymore. Wait, is this still goi-?_

Beep.

"Hey! I just got your message, what's up? Well, obviously you can't answer, you're not on the line." There's a break long enough for an awkward, self-conscious laugh, and he continues. "So I guess call me back?"

Xxx

"This phone tag is getting kind of ridiculous. I just wanted to talk about whatever, but I'll just see you tomorrow. So nevermind, I guess. Bye!"

Xxx

"Hello?"

"Hi!"

"It's one in the morning, why are you calling me? Couldn't it wait about six hours?"

"Oh crap, were you asleep?"

"It doesn't matter, I'm not anymore. Now, please tell me what's got you so excited. I'm almost curious now."

"Well, I kind of can't sleep..."

"I could say something really mean right now, but I'll refrain. Go on?"

He laughs shortly. "I was…approached today by some guys on the football team."

"They didn't hurt you, did they? And don't you dare lie to me-"

"No, no, it wasn't anything like that. They just kind of made some…threats."

"Threats? About what?"

"About us."

"Us?"

"The basic premise is that if we don't stop being, well, _us_ around campus, they'll find a way to make us stop."

"Oh Blaine, I'm so sorry. You never should have come to this school. Ugh, this is all my fault."

"No, that's not true. None of this is your fault. They're just a bunch of-"

"Ignorant jerks. I know. I just wish they'd leave us alone. We don't bully them for liking girls. I don't see why they can't just do their own thing."

"If only. But I talked to Finn, and he said the Glee guys could help us out if any trouble comes our way."

"What are _we_ going to do?"

"Do we have to do anything? The way I see it, we should just be ourselves. If we need help, we have a bunch of jocks on our side. And I heard that Ms. Sylvester likes you. That could come in handy."

"I don't think she really _likes_ anyone. She just doesn't hate me."

"Better than nothing, right?"

"I guess. Hey, I hate to put a damper on this tremendously uplifting conversation, but I have a math final tomorrow. If I don't get an A on it, I'll end up with a B in the class. I'd rather be awake while I'm taking it."

"We both know you're going to ace it."

"I wish it were that easy."

"Good night."

"Good night. I'll see you in the morning."

"Bye, Kurt."

"Bye, Blaine."

Beep.

Xxx

"Would you like to go shopping with me this weekend?" she asks him the next day. He's practically dead on his feet from talking to Kurt for so long last night (and lying in bed thinking for a long while after that), and his eyes feel heavy and irritated. He isn't himself today.

"Why don't you just ask Kurt or Mercedes or someone who actually, you know, likes shopping?" he snaps.

She looks hurt for a moment, but soon replaces the expression with a too-bright smile. He knows that smile like the back of his hand. "I just thought maybe we could get to know each other a little bit better!"

"Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm a great shopping partner." His tone is harsh and biting, and he isn't looking at her while he speaks. As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets them.

"I never said it did," she counters evenly, looking at him with slightly narrowed eyes. Her hands are poised on her hips carefully, and when she speaks again, she sounds dangerous. "I have two gay dads, Blaine. Did you really think I'd mention something so stereotypically callous? You're not the only one who's been bullied their whole life because of who they are, or who they aspire to be. But you _are_ the only one who has had a brief respite. So if you're going to try and act all high and mighty, at least do it to someone who needs to hear it."

She pivots neatly on her heel and storms off (it seems to be a thing for her) and leaves him standing by his locker. The bell rings brassily, telling him and the other hundreds of students to get to class, but he still doesn't move. He doesn't have far to go; he can see his next class from where he's positioned now. He watches Rachel turn the corner imperiously, making a big show of not looking back. She's so dramatic it almost frightens him, yet he knows she'll be successful one day. Rachel Berry is a living, breathing, singing paradox.

The hall fills with students pushing past him, but Blaine can't help but feel the cold pit in his stomach he gets from being alone. Only after she's gone does he realize that the only answer he would've wanted to give her was _yes_.

Xxx

Blaine spends the rest of his day watching from the outside. It's comfortable, this distance he places between himself and reality. He sees the concerned eyes of his new friends, but avoids the only pair that could really break the wall.

He's separated himself. This is what he knows. Blaine is an expert at surviving. It's almost heartbreaking to revert to that, though, when he was just really learning how to live. Almost heartbreaking, but safe.

He should've known that the Dalton way of life doesn't work at McKinley.

His first inkling that something is wrong comes at around ten, while he is walking to math. He's already dreading having to attempt to talk to the smaller girl who will inevitably ask him multiple questions within the span of about ten seconds, and this distracts him enough not to notice the three letterman jackets right in front of him.

"You remember what we told you?" one hulk of a guy asks.

Blaine just nods mutely in response, detesting the fact that his expression is most likely a near perfect replica of a deer caught in headlights.

"Good," another says with a shove, and they're gone. _Articulate_, Blaine thinks sarcastically, but trudges on anyways as if nothing had happened. A sort of blankness lights up his face, and he blends in so easily he feels invisible. He's gotten exceptionally good at perfecting _that_ look ever since he was eleven years old.

He never thought it would come back so easily six years later.

And he never thought he'd have another reason to use it.

Xxx

It's a realization that he's never come to on his own. It takes someone else, a person with a gentle tone and quiet observation skills, to let him know what was within him the entire time.

_The night before:  
><em>

Quinn has somehow managed to get him to come over to her house without Kurt. He thinks it had something to do with the ever-growing number of real smiles she gives on a now daily basis. It also has to do with his natural curiosity. He wants to know why she isn't the most popular girl in school. Because looking at her now, it's easy to see an alternate universe where after the baby, she rose again. It's so easy to imagine her back in that cheer uniform (yes, he may have watched the 4 minutes video on repeat during those lonely days at Dalton).

He was never even remotely aware that maybe she was curious too. He never thought he was someone that invoked curiosity, really.

They walk into the living room and Blaine winces when he sees the bookshelf he had somehow managed to perch on top of the last time he was here. It wasn't one of his best moments. They sink down into the soft, tattered couch and Blaine decides to initiate the conversation as Quinn gets up to grab something or another from the adjoining kitchen.

"Hey, did you ever sign my yearbook?"

He can almost hear Quinn's eyebrow rise. With her back still turned to him, she replies, "I signed it this morning during history. You were watching me."

"Oh yeah, right. So are you ready for the final?"

"For the most part, yes. I'm nervous for the written section, though. How about you?"

"Yeah, same, I guess."

The forced politeness is almost suffocating, and he can feel it almost tangibly in the air. He's taken back to his early days at Dalton, before he met Wes and David. Every single conversation was exactly like this. The careful tones, the general topics, the disgustingly fake smiles- his rant is cut off when Quinn's voice floats towards him.

"I heard about what happened."

He stares at her dumbly for a moment before his stomach drops. He croaks something out that must at least sound like a question, because her answer is understanding.

"Finn is a lot of things, but good at keeping secrets isn't one of them. I think I'm the only one he told, probably because he doesn't think I have anyone to spread it to." Her tone is mostly apathetic, but he can hear the bitterness creeping in.

"How much do you," he swallows thickly, "…know?"

"As much as he does. You were threatened, you broke down in his car, and it had something to do with the fact that you're gay. Am I right?"

He nods, looking at the ground.

"Hey," she starts, her voice extremely gentle. It reminds him of how he'd spoken to his old dog when she'd hurt her paw. It's an _I won't hurt you_ voice. "It's okay. Trust me, I've been there."

_And worse._

It isn't recognized out loud, but it's implied.

"I just…don't know what to do. It only took three weeks for me to screw everything up. Did you know that Kurt said things were getting better around here? I can't help but feel like I just made things worse."

"You're right. It's all your fault."

"I know," he says miserably, bowing his head into his hands.

"Why do you always do that?" He waits, and she elaborates. "You're always bringing yourself down. I just lied through my teeth and you didn't even notice. When Karofsky so much as _looks_ at Kurt funny, I can tell your blood is boiling. You completely told off those hecklers at the Night of Neglect banquet, and you helped me start getting through one of the toughest times of my life."

"What does that have to do with anything? Those weren't things I had to think about, they were just the right things to do."

"That's exactly it. You'll stand up for anyone but yourself." It's such a simple statement, yet it's completely mind-boggling. It can't be true.

His eyebrows crinkle in confusion, and he opens his mouth to protest, but is cut off by Quinn.

"Just think about it. When is the last time you really stood up for yourself?"

He shuts his eyes obediently and thinks back. This morning, he's approached by jocks. Rather than tell them what he really thinks of them, he walks away. Yesterday, the same thing happens. Two days ago, he's shoved into a locker. His only response is an angry glare. One year ago, his dad yells at him for a 'B' on his report card. He goes to his room silently. Three years ago, he comes out to his parents. They react coldly. He accepts it.

Opening his eyes, he isn't surprised to see Quinn watching him inquisitively. She knows how to be patient.

Remembering her question, he answers her. "I don't know," is all he can think of to say, and say it he does. He winces when it comes out sounding small and broken.

Rather than try to fix the statement, she pulls him into her arms, holding him together. He's grateful for the silence.

He can't tell you how long they stayed like that. It feels like a long, unbroken moment. Time ceases to matter.

After they part, she asks him quietly if he'd like to watch a movie. He says that he'd enjoy nothing more.

_Hey mom, I'm going to be at Quinn's a little bit later than I thought. I might stay for dinner. See you at home. –Blaine_

Xxx

"Dude, what happened to you? You're like, a zombie."

Blaine resists the urge to glower. "I got threatened by about half the football team. I'm sorry if it's affected my sleep patterns."

He raises his hands, taking a step back. Is that…fear in his eyes? "Hey, I'm just trying to be nice here. Seriously though, they threatened you? How?"

"They just aren't happy that someone is finally making Kurt happy." He sounds less bitter than he thought he would. Does that count as progress?

"That's rough. Do I need to hurt someone?" There's a manic gleam in his eye that only serves to frighten Blaine. He shakes his head emphatically and Puck looks down, defeated.

"Well, if you need any help with those dicks, just tell me. I haven't hit anyone in way too long. Oh, or you could ask Santana. She keeps razors in her hair."

"I know," he replies, remembering that night. Ever since, the Latina girl has given him cause to be wary.

"Oh. Well, yeah. Tell me if you find me a new punching bag. I've been bored ever since that creep Jacob transferred."

A smile ghosts across the shorter boy's face as he hears this. Noah hasn't changed all that much, really. He's just changed in the ways that matter.

Xxx

_You have been cordially invited to the 3__rd__ annual Berry Disney Marathon. It will be held at the usual location (the house of the esteemed Rachel Berry) and involve classics such as Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, and The Little Mermaid. Please RSVP by Friday, June 1__st__. The event will be taking place the next day, Saturday, June 2__nd__. _

_I hope that you can find the time to attend._

_Regards,_

_Rachel Barbra Berry._

He smiles at the signature (a gold star is place imperiously next to her full name-which is wirtten in a fanciful, carefully loopy script), and calls her promptly. She says she never doubted his attendance.

Xxx

"Mercedes just cancelled, she's stuck babysitting," trills a very high-strung Rachel Berry from upstairs. "That means it will just be us tonight. I'm confident that we can make it a night to remember, regardless."

Blaine is skeptical, to say the least. He's currently wedged between Kurt and Finn, the latter of which looks extremely uncomfortable. Quinn is on Kurt's other side, and they're chatting quietly about a boutique Kurt found that they absolutely _have_ to go to. On Finn's other side is Puck, who looks quite as (if not more) uncomfortable as Finn.

It's a disaster waiting to happen. This group has more emotional baggage than any he's ever been in. The air itself feels combustible, crackling with pent up energy just yearning to explode.

One slip of the tongue could be deadly.

Blaine watches as Rachel holds up two movies. "Cinderella or Snow White?"

"Cinderella," says Quinn at the same time as Kurt shouts, "Snow White!"

They laugh, and a small amount of the tension dissipates. Rachel isn't helping, though. She puts the movies on the counter and puts her hands on her hips, scowling when Puck decides to say, "Does it really matter? Seriously Berry, just pick one of these movies and get it over with."

After a questioning glance from virtually everyone in the room, he shrugs and says, "My mom made me come. She thinks it's good for me to hang out with geeks like you."

"Geeks like _us_?" asks Kurt in a near-shout. It was the wrong thing for Puck to say. "Noah Puckerman, you did _not_ just say what I think you said. Who do you think you are? A letterman's jacket just makes you a jock, not royalty. In fact, if anyone in here's a loser, it's _you_. See if you can get that through your meaty head."

Silence.

It's heavy.

He can feel it pressing down on him, and he can feel the glower coming from two seats to his right like a ray of heat. Solid, substantial, and blazing. From his left, an icy glare.

It's only natural that they meet in the middle.

He squirms a little bit, not sure of what to do. He really, really doesn't want to get involved. He isn't very good at drama. He isn't good with pressure-filled situations, either.

"Listen, Hummel. I don't have to take any crap from you. I've been playing nice for a long time, but you're seriously starting to piss me off. So unless you want to face _this,_" Puck flexes his arm to prove his point, "in a fight, back off."

"Don't talk to him like that!" Nobody expects Finn to step up, but he does, both literally and figuratively. He's standing over Puck with a look that would break anybody with just one ounce of arrogance less than the said opponent. Fortunately, Puck has plenty to go around.

"I wouldn't, Hudson." Puck's voice is low and deadly.

"Really? Cuz I would." From what Blaine has heard, if things continue to escalate, it won't be the first (or second) time they fight.

"Guys!" yells Rachel, voice about an octave too high to sound normal, trying to step in between them. Her slim frame assists her the slightest bit, but she still has trouble fitting in the six-inch gap they've left. Of course, Rachel Berry is nothing if not determined. Blaine watches with ill-concealed awe as she puts two fingers to her lips and whistles loudly enough to startle the neighbors.

It's enough. Both of them slump slightly, tense postures relaxing into that of normal teenage boys.

"Thank you. Now Puck, apologize to Kurt."

"What? You're not my mom, Berry. Now move over so I can-"

"You do _not_ want to finish that sentence, Noah. I know things that I'm sure you don't want getting out. Apologize, now."

Puck makes a sound in his throat that almost sounds like a growl. "Sorry, Hummel." He couldn't sound less concerned if he tried. It doesn't seem like he would, though.

"Whatever, Puckerman."

"Now Finn, you're going to sit down-"

"Right." He plops down onto his abandoned seat on the couch quickly and looks up, waiting for Rachel to continue.

"-and we are going to continue this marathon like the happy, loving friends we are."

She puts on her best show face and presses _Play_ on the remote. She gazes at the screen with attention too rapt to be natural.

When they leave about one hour later, not one of them could even tell you what movie they were watching. One phrase keeps reverberating in Blaine's head, even as he slips into bed.

_I've been playing nice for a long time._

Maybe Noah hasn't changed so much after all.

Xxx

It may have been a disaster of epic proportions, but Blaine can't help but think that Rachel didn't bicker with Kurt or Quinn once. He didn't fight with Puck at all, and the small quarrel between the two best friends was just that: small. It might not be monumental, and it might not even be enough, but Blaine knows enough to see it for what it truly is. It gives him hope and it spurs him on. It makes him think that maybe, just maybe, there will be a day when they can come together as a family rather than an awkward group of friends. It's planted a seed of inspiration.

It's progress.

**Review?**


	10. The Last Puzzle Piece

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee**

Every person has one sole desire. There are others, certainly, but they are simply extensions. Everything a person feels, everything a person thinks, everything a person wants, branches out of this one desire. The way a person lives is a mirror image of the way they want that thing, whatever it may be.

The thing is, some people don't know what their desire is. They are consumed by it, completely unaware, and live their life in ignorance. They are constantly running towards a goal that will always be just out of reach.

It doesn't have to be this way.

Once a person figures out what they want to live for, the rest of the pieces fall into place. It may take seconds, or it may take a lifetime. A lifetime may not be enough. But no matter how long it takes, more pieces fall with every breath this person takes. The more complex the desire, the more pieces to the puzzle. In the rarest of cases, there's but a single piece missing.

It's always the hardest to find, but it reaps rewards well worth the search.

All a person has to do is look.

Xxx

Yesterday, he chose his stepbrother over his best friend. There has to be some kind of unspoken rule against that. Though it really isn't like Finn would now.

The Boy code seems to have skipped him. The only rule he truly knows is 'bros before hoes,' and that really doesn't apply to the situation. Even if it did, it wouldn't have really made much of a difference. Puck has broken that rule too many times to count.

He keeps replaying the scene over and over and over in his head. Keeps thinking about primal instinct buried somewhere inside him to fight for his family. He guesses that he and Kurt are closer than he thought.

He hears Kurt's icy tone, Puck's angry words, and balks at the memory. Yet somehow, he stood up.

He can't help but think his father would have been proud.

Xxx

He walks through the white, newly painted door into his house, expecting silence. What he gets instead is a painful reminder of the mental scarring he'd had to endure a while back. The sound enough makes him want to gag. He shuts his eyes and slowly walks inward, shouting, "I'm home!" at the top of his lungs for good measure.

"Finn? Aren't you supposed to be at football?" calls Kurt shrilly.

"It's almost six thirty, I actually got out late."

He hears a muffled curse (was that Blaine?) and some shuffling upstairs. He decides he really, really doesn't want to know, and continues walking. Somehow, he forgets to open his eyes, and trips over the coffee table.

His curse isn't so muffled.

"Finn Christopher Hudson!"

"Geez, I'm sorry _Mom_." He realizes what he actually says about one second after it leaves his mouth. Mortified, he freezes. Thankfully, Kurt either doesn't hear the last part or chooses to ignore it.

"Well I'm sorry if I like to keep our house relatively profanity-free!" Blaine chuckles a little bit at that, so Finn laughs too, even though the last bit is kind of confusing to him. Last he checked, Kurt was fine with his relatives coming over. The two arrive at the foot of the stairs and Finn notices that Kurt's shirt is buttoned wrong, but he tries not to read into it. He won't. The mental images aren't worth it.

"You know what, I think you left your bag upstairs. I'll grab it." Kurt saunters off to get Blaine's possessions, and that leaves the two standing together with nothing but an awkward height gap.

"Hey Finn? You know how those guys, well, you know." Finn nods. "I might want to take you up on your offer."

"Cool!" he bursts without thinking. He almost laughs at the (much) shorter boy's expression.

"Cool?"

"Yeah! We could totally go all Bond on them. You know?"

"I was just thinking maybe talk to Bieste and have her sort things out. She seems like she's good at dealing with confrontations." Well, that works too. It would me more fun Finn's way, though, he's sure of it.

"Yeah, I'll talk to her. Do you know which guys at all?" Finn's eyebrows rise hopefully and Blaine closes his eyes.

"Um…one of them was really short, like only an inch taller than me," Finn snorts and receives a glare, "and another was African American. I think the other had a buzz cut? Sorry I can't be more specific, I'm just a little hazy on the details."

"Well the short one was probably Sanders, and the African guy was probably Azimio. The buzz cut could be pretty much anyone though."

"What about Azimio?" asks Kurt, swinging his hips as he sashays down the stairs. Finn averts his eyes when he notices the way Blaine is fixating on his brother. They might not be related, but it's still kind of awkward.

"Just that I might need to knock some sense into him," says Finn without thinking.

Blaine closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "No, Finn, you don't. You know what, just- nevermind about this whole thing. I'm making it a way bigger deal than I should be."

"You sure?"

"Very," he says, but Finn can't help but feel that the confidence is just the littlest bit fake. "I've got this under control."

What?

"Five seconds ago, you definitely said you didn't. What's up?"

Blaine looks down at his phone and his eyebrows (triangles) rise to his forehead. "Kurt, it's six thirty-nine."

They look at each other, Kurt's horrified expression making Finn bite his lip to resist the urge to laugh.

It's only after they're out the door that Finn realizes how easily Blaine avoided his question.

Xxx

"Can you believe we're graduating in four days? This is crazy!" she says, kicking up a leg lazily in a fashion that matches the Saturday morning sun perfectly. She's flat on her back, lying on his couch. In his front room. In his _house_. He's having a hard time believing it's really her.

"No," he replies honestly. He can't. Everything is moving so fast, it's like his life is on fast forward. The lines are blurring and his head is pounding. He's almost a senior.

The thought isn't as exciting as it probably should be.

"Just one more year, Finn, and then we're off to college. I can see it now. Soon my name will be flashing all over the world." Her eyes are shining as she talks to the ceiling, but he knows that the words aren't for him. She's talking to herself. She's always been like that, needing self-assurance. She's just learned to give it to herself over the years.

"Those lights won't be bright enough," he tells her honestly. It's just above a whisper, as only the truest of truths are, and the brief silence that follows is weighted.

She turns to him. "You really think so?"

"Of course I do. I'm like your biggest fan." He smiles crookedly and she beams. It takes his breath away. A stray piece of hair flops into her eyes, and before she can move to fix it, he brushes it back carefully.

He might have stopped breathing.

What concerns him more is that he isn't really sure.

"Finn," she breathes, and he freezes. "I can't do this." Her eyes are sad, so sad, and he doesn't even register what she says at first, just focusing on the sadness in her eyes.

"Why?" he asks before he can stop himself, before he can change his mind.

"You know why," she replies simply, taking his hand and pulling it away from her hair, away from those beautiful, tear-filled eyes. He knows her face is seconds from crumpling. He knows her so well it scares him, because if he can't have her, who can? Who could ever understand her like he can? She deserves someone who can understand her, even for the short amount of time they have.

"I don't care if you're leaving, Rach. I'll come with you. And if I can't, I'll come to every single one of your shows, I swear, dead center in the front row. My mom just bought a new video camera, so we could watch it together. Just _please_ don't give up on me."

She bites her lip and he knows he's won. She appears to still be thinking, but he's already grinning like he won the lottery. In a way, he has. When she bites her lip, it means she's giving in. It always does.

He might not have a great GPA concerning Spanish (or English, for that matter), but he's fluent in Berry.

When she looks up at him through her lashes and nods almost imperceptibly, he can hardly control himself. Within seconds, his lips are on hers in that familiar way he's been craving for so long. Her hands are tugging gently on his hair in a way that probably seems rough to her. He'd roll his eyes if he weren't slightly preoccupied.

Right now all he can think, all he can see, all he can feel is pure, unadulterated _Rachel_. It's surreal. He's been dreaming of this moment for so long, it doesn't seem right to have it. Not that he's complaining. He feels some pressure tapping against his chest and realizes it's her fists.

"Wait," she manages to say shakily. "We both know how to be in a relationship with each other, but I really think we should set up some guidelines. For example, your mom will be here in about five minutes. So we can make me the organizer. You can be the…"

"How about we just wing it?" he asks, smiling.

She rolls her eyes. "We both know very well what happened last time we tried to wing it. I just really, really don't want to lose you again."

They both hear the words she leaves unspoken as clearly as if they were hanging in the air, suspended from a single breath. Neither says a thing regarding them. Finn because he doesn't want to ruin the happiness he feels, Rachel because she feels guilt pressing on her so tangibly it makes her sick.

Instead, they simply lie down with each other, fully clothed and fully content.

Finn starts playing with her hair, and soon the unspoken words are nearly forgotten. At least, for the moment. But Finn knows that they won't stay that way forever. Nothing ever does.

All he can do is pull this beautiful girl into his arms and feel her heartbeat match up against his, praying to every entity that he can think of with a compromise: He'll give up everything he has (even his X-box) if only this moment could last forever.

Four minutes and twenty-three seconds later, he hears the door unlock as reality steps in.

Xxx

It's kind of weird, having a family. If you'd asked Finn two years ago if he wanted a family, he would've sworn up and down that all he needed was his mom. They worked. They didn't need anyone else to butt in and mess everything up.

But nothing is the same after two years.

He's sitting on a tastefully chosen couch (courtesy of- well, who else?) and his feet are propped up on the coffee table in a way that's only tolerated by Burt. The game is blaring, but Finn is just thinking. A goofy smile lights up his face when he thinks about the events of the morning. He can't believe it. He knows it's all a dream. He just really doesn't want to wake up.

"You and that Berry girl finally get back together?" Burt's question startles him back into the present and he nearly knocks over his drink.

"How did you even know about that?" It's not exactly a denial, but he hopes Burt didn't notice.

"Well, Kurt and I have different ideas of how to bond. I know way more about your guys' love lives than I ever wanted to."

Finn suppresses a laugh. It's just so…Kurt.

"Yeah, Rachel and I are back together. She's my girlfriend again," he says with no small sense of pride.

"Good for you, son. Hey, you make sure you treat her with respect, all right?"

"Of course. She wouldn't let me disrespect her if I tried," he replies ruefully, running a hand through his hair. It's obviously not the exact answer Burt is looking for, but it seems to be enough. He nods thoughtfully and turns back to the game.

Finn follows suit, but his mind isn't on the (awesome) defensive play he just witnessed.

No, it's far from it.

Xxx

"'Sup, bro?" he asks as he walks downstairs, still groggy from having to wake up at such an ungodly hour.

"Nothing is up, 'bro,' but I can tell you that my mood will continue to lower steadily unless you start calling me by, oh, I don't know, my actual name?" retorts Kurt as he pours himself a cup of coffee. He's been drinking it a lot more since Dalton happened.

"You know, I don't think it's healthy to be so sarcastic this early in the morning. It might be bad for your pores or something."

"Like you would know about pores. Yours are about the size of giant potholes, by the way. I pity you," he sniffs.

"Okay?"

"Ever the oblivious one, aren't you?"

"I guess?" he flounders, mind not working quite quickly enough to understand what his stepbrother means.

"I'd love to stay and take advantage of your extremely limited vocabulary, but I have to go in early to start on my math final. There's no way I could finish it in the two hours she's giving us. I hate math," he groans.

"I know. Who doesn't?" Finn commiserates, pulling out a stool and setting down his Pop tarts. Kurt looks at them disgustedly, but doesn't say anything. He's tried to before, but Finn isn't nearly as easily swayed as Burt.

"Well said. I guess I'd better leave. See you, then."

"Yeah, see you."

Xxx

He missed this. It's Monday morning and finals are starting and he's totally stressed out, but he's also the happiest he's been in a long, long time because her hand is in his as they walk down the halls in a familiar path. He's going to drop her off in Advanced English, then make his way to Spanish three doors down (he's already dreading it).

But for now, he's perfectly content to see her beam up at him in a move so reminiscent of last year it takes his breath away.

"Are you excited for summer?" he asks her, all things eloquent wiped from his brain.

"Of course I am! I think I'm going to try out for the role of Elphaba in Wicked at the community theatre. I'm obviously perfect for the role, and they'll need someone who can hit the notes as precisely as I can," she informs him seriously.

He laughs.

"I missed you." He doesn't plan anything, he doesn't prepare himself, he just says it without preamble.

Most of the greatest moments of his life involve a process like this.

Her smile softens. "I missed you, too."

He's about to say something else when she leans upward to give him a quick peck on the cheek (barely reaching) and turns into her classroom.

He walks into Spanish with a huge grin on his face.

When Mr. Schue takes roll, Finn doesn't even remember to say 'here.' He thinks he would have gotten an unexcused absence if he had any other teacher, but the choir director just looks at him a little strangely and marks him present.

He thinks he failed the Spanish final.

He can't really bring himself to care because even after the excruciating two hours that felt like death, he can still feel her touch on his skin.

Xxx

"When I said you and Rachel should get back together, I said it because it was kind of lame how much you complained about her. Not because I wanted to see you all gross and obsessed with each other."

Finn just looks up from his History review sheet and shakes his head.

"Like that! Before the hobbit took over you would've like, pummeled me for that. Now you're acting all high and mighty, and I gotta admit, it's kinda scaring me."

"It's like my whole life I was just waiting for her, you know? And then she came, and it was like my world kind of lit up. It's awesome." His tone and eyes are equally dreamy.

"Are you high?"

Finn laughs, then laughs again at his own audacity. Puck is totally serious, his face etched with disbelief.

"No, man. I'm not. But you're not the first one to ask that question." He thinks back to his strange encounter with Santana in the morning.

"That's not surprising."

"Thanks," he replies happily, then decides he should probably get to History before he's late. "See ya later!" he throws over his shoulder.

He leaves Puck standing perplexed in the middle of the hall.

When he looks back, Puck still hasn't moved.

Xxx

"I heard that you and Rachel are back together?"

He looks up from his lunch, startled to hear _that_ voice speaking gently to him.

"Uh…yeah, we are."

It's awkward on so many levels. It's one of the reasons he hates not expanding his dating horizons beyond Glee. Things tend to get weird fast whenever the club is together in its entirety.

"Congratulations." She smiles brightly and he blinks, thinking he imagined it at first. When her expression turns to one of concern, he tries to return to a semblance of normalcy.

"Thanks."

"I should have said this ages ago, but…I'm really sorry for being such a, well, you know, to you and especially to her. I'll admit I was using you and she was making me jealous. I didn't think I could ever survive at the bottom of the heap. I guess I was wrong."

"There's nothing wrong with the bottom of the heap."

"Not as long as you have company," she smiles back. Her eyes are happier than he's seen them in a long time, and Finn wonders what changed.

He wonders why he even cares.

Xxx

He's no stranger to heartbreak.

For months, Drizzle was his life. But she isn't even Drizzle anymore. She doesn't exist. She's Beth, and she's gone, and she was never even his to begin with.

For some reason, that makes it hurt even more.

He never got to meet his father, but he still has an empty hole in his chest from where he should be. He remembers his mom cheering for him at his first football game.

"_Go Finn! Woohoo! Throw that ball!"_

It isn't quite the same when the person cheering knows virtually nothing about football, no matter how many times he's tried to explain it.

And then there's Quinn. Feline, green eyes and blonde hair that have hurt him way too many times to be fair. She was manipulative and bloodthirsty when it came to being popular, but something changed her. He thinks it was Beth, but he really can't pinpoint anything. He just knows that he isn't afraid of her anymore.

And then there's Rachel.

From the first moment he met her, he was terrified. His life changed. Now it's split in two. Before Rachel and After Rachel. It doesn't matter that there have been Rachel-less times because A.R. she was always, always on his mind. She still is. And he has a feeling she's never going to leave. If she does, he knows she'll take a chunk of his heart with her.

If you'd asked Finn Hudson six months ago about the status of his heart, he'd say 'mangled' (SAT word of the day). If you asked him today, he'd say 'I'm getting there.'

He doesn't know where exactly he's going. He _does_ know that at the moment, the only place to go is up.

Xxx

_Puck,_

_(I'd say Dear Puck but you'd probably call me a pansy or a girl…). I'm really stoked that we're friends again. I'm sorry that I didn't forgive you sooner and I'm sorry for tackling you when you were in a wheelchair. We're best friends. We shouldn't fight. I hope that we can keep being best friends for a long time, cuz we are seriously good at it. And who else has known me for like twelve years? Okay, wow, this is kind of girly. _

_Monster trucks. Football. Right._

_Anyways, see you later._

_-Finn_

Xxx

This is it.

He can't help but feel a sense of foreboding as he steps onto the stage. His red robe billows around him, not quite reaching the ground (it comes as no surprise) and the cap fits awkwardly onto his head. He's sure he looks ridiculous.

No, he's sure. Kurt let him know this morning.

He wishes they could wear something beside the robes for the performance, but Rachel wasn't budging. She said something about authenticalness and how it would look more relatable if they were wearing the same thing as the graduating seniors.

Which reminds him of the fact that he's a junior and why the heck is he even wearing this?

The music cuts off his thoughts and he reluctantly waits for his cue. Of course Rachel made sure he got the first solo.

As the guitar reaches a crescendo, he opens his mouth and sings the song that Tina and Mike collaborated on. Mike might not be able to sing, but the song is much better than Finn would ever have expected.

_Moving on is all about_

_Never letting go_

_Never letting go_

The rest of the club backs him and Rachel on the repeated lines.

_And graduation is so much more_

_Than the cap you get to throw_

_The cap you get to throw_

_We're finally moving on_

_We're finally moving in_

_To the world we were meant to live in_

_We're finally moving on_

As Kurt and Blaine step up for their verses, Finn loses his focus. He isn't graduating this year. This song shouldn't mean anything to him. It talks about throwing a cap, for crying out loud! Why should he care?

Rachel nudges him in the side, show smile still in place, if a little bit strained. He starts to sing his part again when, suddenly, it's over.

Oops.

He looks out into the audience rather than face his girlfriend's wrath and sees that everyone is crying. Literally, everyone. His mom had come to watch the performance and even she has tears running down her cheeks.

It's enough to make Finn wish he hadn't checked out.

Funny that he missed the importance of a song _he was singing_.

But that's just how Finn is. He misses things right in front of his face all the time. He can't understand things when they're spelled out.

He used to think he was way smarter than that. He sees the _hidden_ meanings behind things. The things that other people just can't find, no matter how hard they try.

Now he thinks he might be hiding them himself.

It's a somber realization that hits him like a ton of bricks.

He just doesn't get things.

It's a good thing he has the smartest girl in their grade (in his opinion, at least) to help him out.

So what if the world is against him? Who cares if he isn't the brightest bulb in the…pack of light bulbs? Why should it matter?

As long as Rachel's on his side, the world can bring it on. He's ready.

Xxx

The next day, he sees her wearing her Team Finn shirt proudly and feels a blush heat up his cheeks.

When it gets drenched by a grape slushie, he wipes away the lone tear glistening on her face.

"Isn't grape your favorite?" he asks gently, a smile threatening to emerge. She doesn't notice, instead choosing to pout and stare at the floor, where the shirt is still dripping into a puddle

"Not when it's ruining my favorite shirt! This stain will take _forever_ to get out."

Her favorite shirt?

He tells her not to worry about it. He likes it better that way.

**Review?**


	11. Admissions

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee**

Sometimes just loving someone isn't enough.

Sometimes you don't get the happiness you know you deserve. Love can hurt. Hearts can break. Dreams can be shattered. And it can all happen in a matter of seconds. Fate is cruel. An inopportune blink can send an entire existence into jeopardy.

Nothing is forever.

Xxx

Once upon a time there were two teenagers, a boy and a girl. They had nothing going for them. The universe seemed determined to destroy them. They both denied the one thing holding them together in any way they could. It worked better when the denial was mutual (it was so much easier that way). She found a boyfriend and he found a girlfriend, and they went back to the way things used to be.

But slowly, things begin to change again.

Her boyfriend stops wanting her. (She never really wanted him, either). His girlfriend moves away. Once again, they form a bond. It's far from stable and far from normal, but they don't mind. It keeps them going.

She's still recovering from having everything taken away from her. He's still recovering from being rejected.

They're recovering from each other, but they're doing it together.

Xxx

It's the first day of summer. He's finally a senior. He's been dreaming of this since the first dreaded hour of freshman year.

Funny. He sure doesn't feel any different.

He scarfs down his breakfast while it's still steaming and manages to burn his tongue on browned eggs. Grabbing whatever energy drink happens to be closest, he heads out the door with "Bye, 'Ma!"

"Be safe, honey," is the best she can manage. They both know there's no hope of stopping him any more than she can make him clean his room or go to class. He hates making her feel this helpless, but he refuses to be tied down.

She has no idea where he's going; she never does.

Neither does he.

Xxx

Somehow, he ends up at Finn's. _Cool_, he thinks, and doesn't pause before just opening the door and walking right in like he owns the place.

"Finn?" calls an unsuspecting Burt from inside. Crap. Well, that ruins his plans for an epic COD session to distract him from everything that's going on in his head at the moment.

"Nah, it's Puck. Finn isn't home?" he asks unnecessarily, dreading the response.

"He just left to that Berry girl's place. You looking for him?" Typical. Every since Finn finally grew some balls and talked to her they've been attached at the hip. It's sickening.

"I was. Is that the Cubs game?"

"Yeah. Bottom of the fourth. We're up by two," the older man answers gruffly, not even looking up.

"Mind if I watch?" He usually wouldn't ask, but Kurt's dad scares the crap out of him. Luckily, he doesn't seem to care all that much about him and Kurt's past. Or him and Finn's. Or him and Blaine's.

Thinking about it, this man has more of a right to hate him than anyone Puck's ever met.

Which is why he's shocked to hear a "sure" fall casually from his lips.

He never understood why some people are so keen to forgive him. He used to think it was his good looks, or the aura of fear he surrounds himself with. He's grown up a lot in the past two years.

He isn't a good person. He doesn't deserve any of it.

When Burt pats the couch next to him, Puck sits down numbly. He stares at the TV screen and listens to the announcer's voice blaring through the speakers for almost an hour before he makes an excuse and leaves.

When he gets back in his truck, he realizes that he has absolutely no idea who was even winning, let alone the score.

Xxx

Once upon a time, there was a boy. He hated his dad with everything in his heart. He still hates him today. But when his dad leaves, there's still hatred. It burns inside of him like a disease, spreading to his weakest parts, destroying him from the inside.

The exasperated teachers don't understand. They see a troubled boy with a bad attitude who can't be made to cooperate. After the first punch, he isn't troubled anymore. He's malicious. After the second, he's a delinquent. After the third, he isn't worth trying to help anymore. They can only look on with mild interest as he takes over this world he's created for himself. (He feels more like it's the world he trapped himself in).

To the nerds, he's a terror.

To the masses, he's not to be crossed.

To the elite, he's totally badass and good for a drink.

To his mom, he's still a little boy with a good heart who's just strayed a bit.

To his sister, he's a hero.

To one girl, he's something else entirely.

(She's something else to him, too).

Xxx

He checks his email.

One new message from footballfinn. He rolls his eyes at the screen name his friend made back when they were both still in middle school and hits open. The message is long and he can practically feel Finn narrating in that awkward, bumbling way of his.

It's unexpected. And it also makes Puck feel like scum. Finn is apologizing to him? To the guy who got his best friend's girlfriend pregnant and helped her lie about it?

A million emotions are tearing through him, but one so harshly that he can feel it like acid in his mouth. It tastes like regret.

Xxx

Once upon a time there was a girl. She grew up living a high society life in a town too small for her. She was taught how to use a hair straightener at the age of six and perfected the high ponytail at five. Her parents only wanted the best for their fair-haired, beautiful future prom queen.

Until she met him, she was living a life she never asked for. She was on top to everyone but herself.

Now she's trying to rebuild her life the way _she_ wants it, starting from the bottom of the bottom of the heap. It isn't easy, and it isn't fun, but she knows it's worth it. And it's all because of him.

He's the wake up call she needed all along.

He sees himself as a loser who doesn't deserve anything. Especially not her.

She sees herself as a fresh start. She's leaving her past behind. All of it. No matter how much it hurts.

They were doomed from the start.

Is it still a fairy tale without the happily ever after?

Xxx

His report card shows up in the mail on a Saturday. He takes one look at it, shrugs, and tosses it in the garbage can.

Math: C-

Chemistry: D

English: D+

History: B

Spanish: C

Football: A+ (he laughs at this one, because he knows coach just gave everyone 100. Who would've guessed he'd have an A?)

The rest are expected, for the most part, though how he kept a C in Math he'll never know.

So he likes history. Big deal. It's not like he's gonna tell anyone. He passed his junior year. That's all that matters.

Puck was never one to care about his grades. He isn't about to start now.

Xxx

He goes to a party that night because he has to keep his reputation up somehow. It's at some guy on the hockey team's house and Puck never liked him, but there's supposed to be plenty to drink. He's game.

When he pulls up in his truck, it's already in full swing. The air is sticky with summer humidity and sweet with the scent of wine coolers. He twists his mouth. Girls are shamelessly showing off their 'assets' in low cut shirts and barely there skirts and guys are shamelessly drinking it all in with looks of awe and hunger far too old to belong to teenagers. He'd guess that 90 percent of the population here is drunk already by the way they're dancing and staggering around to music that barely floats through their alcohol-muddled minds.

"Puck, my man, what's up? Ha, that rhymed," a hockey jerk laughs drunkenly, and yeah, this guy's totally wasted. Hockey jerk suddenly grabs Puck's shoulder to keep himself from falling and Puck decides to get out of here before he's attacked by someone who's too far gone to care about their surroundings.

Not to be deterred again, Puck makes his way through the crowd with some carefully placed shoulder bumps. He ends up at the cooler with three girls and their respective guys (boyfriends? Dance partners? One night stands? They're all the same tonight) trailing behind him. He grabs a beer as quickly as possible and just downs it, ignoring the bitter taste in favor of the warmth he feels in his stomach.

Grabbing another, he pops off the cap and looks around, trying to figure out where to stake his claim. Any rooms with closed doors are out (he knows the kind of thing he'd be walking in on). Turning around, he looks to the back corner and freezes.

She's about the last person he expected to be here, and by the look on her face, she feels the same way. She's leaning into the two walls supporting her as if they're a protector's arms and clutching a barely touched wine cooler like it's a lifeline. Her soft pink dress is a dead giveaway that she had some church event or another earlier, and he wonders what she's even doing at a party like this. The lights are low throughout the house, but she's standing next to a lamp. The entire effect makes her look innocent, fragile even. (She looks like an angel, not that he'd ever admit it). She's completely out of place.

He's standing in front of her before he even remembers moving. "Hi," he begins, uncharacteristically nervous. Why is it that he can make out with a girl whose name he doesn't know, but can't carry on a normal conversation with _her _without looking like an idiot?

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised to see you here," she smirks, but her heart isn't in it. It's a line from a script they used a long time ago.

"Not much else to do with my summer," he replies, because what else can he say? It's the same old song and dance. Their relationship (whatever it may be) leaves no room for embellishments.

"No football?" she inquires, flipping her hair behind her ear the same way she always does.

"I'm probably gonna quit," he admits, then curses himself for being so open with her.

"Why?" She actually sounds interested.

"Do I need a good reason? Football sucks." It's one of many lies he's told her in the past. It doesn't get any easier with time.

"It just seemed like football was your…constant? I'm not sure if that's the right word. But I guess it's just one of those things that defines you. That's how cheerleading was for me." She's being so honest with him, and his second beer is kicking in, and he's tired of pretending. The courage is setting in. He asks her if she can keep a secret, and when she glares pointedly at him like it's a stupid question (he knows that look) he leads her outside onto the moonlit front porch. Fireflies scatter when he opens the creaky screen door and for a second he pretends that this is the day he'll finally grow a pair and tell her the way he feels. The thought is banished with a glance to his left that reveals a flash of blonde and all of his insecurities come rushing back at full force.

Exhaling heavily, he begins to tell the truth. She'll be the first of his friends (they are friends, right?) to know. "Football does suck. But that's not why I'm quitting." He takes another breath. He always feels like he's gasping when he talks to her. "My mom got laid off. My family's short on money and I need to get a summer job after my pool business got shut down when those husbands found out about…" he trails off.

"I'm sorry about your family," she says diplomatically, clearly choosing to ignore the last part.

"I don't need your pity," he growls at her, suddenly realizing how vulnerable he just made himself. (He'll come to realize that he always does this with her. It's like he can't help it.)

"I don't pity you. I just wish you had an easier situation. If you ever need any help-"

"I don't need your charity either." He's on the defense. He knows that if he lets her continue he'll say yes. He never learned how to say no to her.

Her eyes narrow into slits. Even after Beth, even after her fall from popularity, she can still look more dangerous than any girl he knows. And Santana carries razors in her hair.

"Listen, Puck. I'm just trying to be a good person here. Sorry if you're offended because of some thick-skulled superiority complex."

He's pretty sure he has no idea what that means, but it doesn't stop him from saying, "Whatever, Jesus Freak," before walking down the stairs, through the grass, and into his waiting truck.

As he drives, he tells himself that it's the alcohol causing the way his hands are shaking.

(He knows it's because of her. It's always her. He just wishes, not for the first time, that the past could stay in the past. If he thinks it's bad now, though, he has another thing coming.)

Xxx

Once upon a time there was a boy. He lived in a small house in a small town, but he didn't know that. He believed in dragons and zombies and monsters under the bed. He believed that this city? This city was the world, and one day he would rule it. With his trusty sidekick ("Partner!" "Whatever, Finn") he went on countless adventures to rescue people from evil.

There are many damsels in distress in this hero's world. Some more obnoxious than others. As he grows older, though, many end up in a quasi-relationship with him. He doesn't truly care for any of them until freshman year comes around.

He resolves to forget about her. Their experimental, chaste kiss probably meant nothing to her, anyways. He pretends that she's the same as any other girl.

When sophomore year comes around and he finds that pretending isn't enough, he does what any sane guy would do: he goes after her.

He never planned to make her hate him, but after seeing the look in her eyes afterwards, he doesn't feel like a hero anymore.

He thinks that that might be the point he truly embraced the role of the villain.

Xxx

The week rolls by in a haze of heat and old music and lame parties with cheap alcohol. He can't help but feel like his summer is wasting away into nothingness and that thought honestly scares him.

Which is why he actually says yes when Finn invites him to go down to the Hummel's cabin for the week. Kurt invited Blaine, so it'll be the four of them plus Kurt's dad (Finn's mom is staying with a relative or something). He can't say he's excited, but it'll be way better than just sitting around all day. His gig as a lifeguard doesn't start for another two weeks, so his schedule is empty.

(And yeah, he misses his friends. A little. Mainly Finn.)

Xxx

Time is a funny thing. It can drag or fly by, but it's supposed to be constant. Steadfast. Dependable. Puck never understood, then, how his ten minutes of happiness with Quinn felt like one and his year without her felt like ten.

Why is he still thinking about her? That's another thing. Even after they 'ended,' he never felt like they were over. He never felt like they're time ran out.

It's like they're doomed to want each other forever.

But are they really doomed? Or are they blessed?

Xxx

"_H'llo?" _he asks into the phone, still groggy.

"_Noah?" _questions a high, melodic voice. He rolls his eyes. Leave it to Kurt to cut into his strictly scheduled sleep time.

"_What?"_

A breathy, exasperated sigh can be heard across the line._ "You know, you could try being polite every once in a while."_

"_I'll keep that in mind. Did you seriously call me at nine in the morning to talk about being polite?"_

"_No, though it's something you needed to hear anyways. I called you at nine because we leave tomorrow and I need to tell you what to pack."_

"_Oh, I already packed. I don't need some fancy list."_

"_Did you bring SPF 50 sunscreen? Or a hat?"_

"_Dude. I'm Jewish."_ It's the perfect explanation for anything, really. His mom schooled him well in Jewish pride.

"_Your ignorance amazes me. I'll email you the full list in a couple of minutes. See you tomorrow."_

"_Whatever."_

He hangs up and groans into his pillow, trying to shield his eyes from the light streaming into his window. Really, Kurt? Nine in the freaking morning? Puck never wakes up before eleven in the summer. Never. It's like…a sin.

Something tells him that this will be a really different vacation than he's used to.

And not different in a cool way, either.

Xxx

About an hour later, Puck finally drags himself out of bed and faces the day. When he turns on his (old, junky) computer, one new message is waiting for him. He's kind of dreading opening it because he knows his bag in no way will ever match Kurt's criteria.

(_Dude, just open it. It's not like you care about what it says anyways. Just make sure you aren't forgetting anything stupid)_

And after a surprisingly difficult internal deliberation, he clicks open and his jaw drops at the length of the list. He packed a couple shirts, some shorts, and a blanket. Obviously this won't meet the Hummel standard:

**What to pack:**

-Various t-shirts, shorts, and Capri pants. (NO Polyester!)

-Sunscreen at least SPF 50 and a hat for sun protection. (Being Jewish doesn't mean you're immune to skin cancer, Noah)

-A football (Finn's idea)

-Either: sandals or socks and tennis shoes. Not both. That's a crime against all things fashionable. Including me.

-A pillow of some sort

-A sleeping bag that has proper ventilation for temperatures above sixty degrees at night

-A sweatshirt, just in case it gets cooler in the evenings

-Phone, i-Pod, etc. Just keep in mind there's no service out there

-Chargers for any electronics

-Toiletries (toothbrush, deodorant, razor, etc.)

-Whatever you wear to go swimming (no skinny dipping!) and a towel. There's a lake right outside the cabin

-Anything else you deem vital (no, you can't bring your X-Box. Sorry)

Suggestion: bring a duffel bag for your various items

Xxx

It's Monday. He's on his way to Finn's. His fingers are tapping restlessly on the steering wheel and the sun is shining at an angle so low it's nearly unfamiliar. He's never out of the house before one. Now he's driving and it's just plain weird to see soccer moms with their little kids (most of which suck, in his opinion) and teenagers at skate parks as if it's a normal hour to be out. Weird.

_Be here at ten. We want to get there in time to set up our stuff, unpack, and explore a little before dinner._

Yeah. Kurt failed to mention that the cabin is over four hours away. And it's right outside of Deering. Drive any farther and they'd be in West Virginia.

Rolling his eyes again, he drives the remaining ten minutes to the relatively large two-story home quickly (he's still tapping out random rhythms on the worn out leather at his hands. Puck was never one for total silence).

He walks up the driveway awkwardly, pointedly ignoring the cookie-cutter stepping-stones that sprinkle the perfectly mowed grass. One hand is shoved in his pocket while the other helps steady his duffel bag (he might have taken Kurt's advice) and when Burt opens the door, he honestly doesn't know what to say. So he says nothing, choosing to stand and wait.

He doesn't have to wait long. "Boys are in Finn's room," says Burt, stepping aside to let Puck in.

"Thanks," Puck replies, walking a little faster up the stairs than he normally would. He can feel the older man's gaze on his back and it's seriously creeping him out.

"'Sup, losers?" he asks nonchalantly, dropping his bag with a thud on the carpet.

"You know, that'd be more offensive if you weren't spending the week with us." Puck is surprised that Blaine is the one to speak up.

"Eh. Life's not the same without scrawny kids to throw in dumpsters." He'd meant for it to come out blasé and even a bit humorous. Blaine and Kurt don't seem to see it the same way.

"Yeah. Life's not the same when you stop getting thrown in dumpsters, either. Oh, wait, it's better!" Kurt sounds so falsely enthusiastic Puck's scared to see the expression on his face. When he finally caves and looks, it's kind of terrifying. His eyes are wide and his cheeks are bright red, and his mouth is twisted into a smile so strange it could pass as a grimace. Blaine is glaring at Puck while rubbing reassuring (and hopefully calming) circles into Kurt's back.

"Dude. Not cool," adds Finn loyally. By now the male diva seems to have calmed down and nods appreciatively at his stepbrother.

"Okay, never mind then. Are we leaving or what?" The second the question leaves his lips he regrets it. About the last thing Puck wants to do right now is spend an insanely long time in a cramped space with these guys. And Mr. Hummel.

He's starting to wonder why he even said yes in the first place. Is he that desperate?

_No_. The answer comes firmly in his mind. First, he isn't desperate. Puck is one of the most popular guys in the whole school. People have been lining up to hang out with him. It isn't his fault if he hates them all, is it? And second, like it or not, these guys aren't just some losers from Glee club (well, they are, but still). They're his friends. And if he thinks that the guys who want to party with him would forgive him for getting their girlfriend pregnant or physically abusing them, then maybe he really is an idiot after all. Whether he wants them to be or not, these guys are in his life.

(When Kurt huffs at him for not bringing a shirt to match those plaid shorts, he's inclined towards _not_).

They finally pile into the car about forty-five minutes and a thorough bag check later, and Puck's already exhausted. He's stuck plastered against the window in the back seat with the happy couple next to him. (Blaine is kind of squishing him, but he doesn't say anything. Maybe somewhere in Puck's mind this is a twisted kind of payback for everything in the past).

The glass is warm and the car is scorching hot, and Puck thinks he's going to melt before they even leave Finn's house. Fortunately, Burt's car has decent air conditioning and the seats are fabric, so it cools down relatively quickly. When he catches a wisp of cold air in his face, it feels like summer.

"You kids excited? My dad used to take me out to this cabin when I was a kid. Anybody fish?"

"I used to." This time Puck isn't surprised to hear the Hobbit pipe up next to him. "My dad and I went a couple summers back. It was the same summer we fixed the car, actually. And the same summer he tried to sign me up for football camp."

There's a strangely bitter tone to Blaine's voice and Puck definitely thinks he's missing something. Burt and Kurt are both wincing and Finn…well, Finn's looking out the window.

"Well, hopefully this is a better experience."

"I'm sure it will be. Thanks again for bringing us, Mr.- Burt."

He smiles for a moment before replying, "Anytime, kid."

There's another silence and Puck isn't sure if he can take much more so he starts to tap at the car door. It's hollow sounding and his fingers are going to hurt in a second, but it's so worth it when he hears Finn tapping in the front seat. Soon Blaine and Kurt are humming and they've got an epic jam session going.

Once the novelty wears off, Blaine starts to sing actual songs (most are recommended by Kurt), and Puck and Finn provide the beat. It's an easy way to pass the time, and it's the most fun Puck's had in a long time.

It's also the most innocent fun he's ever had…ever.

Weird. He just assumed that life sucked for people too weak to be badass.

Though he's realizing he got a lot of things wrong in the past.

Xxx

One hour, seventeen minutes remaining:

Three hours is a long time to spend in a car squished up against someone you used to bully constantly. Especially when he falls asleep on you two hours in.

Puck has to admit, Blaine looks a lot younger when he's asleep. Like, a _lot_ younger. First, let's get something straight. Puck isn't a creeper. The only reason he even looked at Blaine (asleep) in the first place is because his head was on Puck's shoulder. Awkward. Puck just can't get over the fact that like this, Blaine could easily pass for a kid the same age as he was when Puck used to bully him.

It's like a messed up flashback. It's also seriously freaking him out.

"So Puck, have you ever been out to a cabin like this before?" He's thankful for the distraction.

"Once, but I don't really remember it."

It had been with his dad. And thinking about it, Kurt's the only one in the car who doesn't have one painful memory or another relating to a father figure.

"Well, it's pretty cool. I think you'll like it."

"Yeah, I hope so."

The conversation dies off again. Finn is still looking out the window, eyes unfocused. Kurt is singing quietly under his breath, leaning up against his boyfriend's shoulder. Puck is trying his hardest not to move or jostle the sleeping boy, but a violent bump in the road brings them all to their senses.

"Huh?" asks Blaine before he realizes where he is. Cheeks burning, he jerks off of his (Enemy's? Tormentor's?) shoulder as if he'd been struck by lightning. "Sorry."

"Nah, it's cool. You're a lot quieter asleep," teases Puck.

"Most people are," quips Kurt, straightening as well.

They laugh for a moment before the silence once again reigns, settling thicker than before; it feels like a blanket.

"When we get there, everyone has to pick their room. They're really small, so only one person can fit in each, but there are a lot." Kurt's voice seems too loud in the cramped space.

"Dude, you told us that like three times already."

"Just reminding everyone. I wouldn't be surprised if you forgot, actually, Finn. Brothers," he mutters conspiratorially in the general direction of the backseat, shaking his head.

"Stepbrothers," corrects Finn, but Kurt just rolls his eyes.

"It doesn't matter what I call you, you're still annoying."

"Well, so are you," he retaliates. Blaine starts laughing.

"Do you see what I have to deal with?" asks Kurt.

"Hey, keep it cool you two. We're living together for a week. No diva fits necessary. Let's play a game."

The two Hudson-Hummel boys grumble impressively, but Burt is used to dealing with Kurt's protest. Years of pleading and begging and whining and moaning have all but made him immune to anything disagreeable.

"What game?" asks Blaine enthusiastically. Kurt elbows him in the side. "Traitor," he mutters.

Which is how they end up trying to find different license plates for the remaining hour or so until they arrive.

Xxx

"Indiana!"

"West Virginia!"

"Ohio!"

"Finn…We're in Ohio."

"Right."

…

"Ohio!"

No one responds this time. Or the next. Or the next. Soon, Finn gives up on trying to win the game altogether, instead trying to hinder Kurt by throwing anything he can find at the smaller boy.

"Finn! If you throw one more napkin at m- Okay, that's it!"

Xxx

If you'd asked Puck last year if he would voluntarily get in a car and sit with his ex-best friend and two of his old favorite guys to pick on, he'd have laughed at you. If you'd added that one of your old dumpster victims' father would be there, too, he'd have said 'no way in hell.'

Yet, he's here. Just one year later, his whole perspective is flipped.

Time is a funny thing.

**A/N: Wow. I'm really sorry for how long this took to get out. I'm on a chapter-to-chapter basis for uploading at the moment, so I have nothing backed up, and church and soccer kind of ate my life for the past couple of weeks. For those of you still reading this story, thank you so much for the support. You guys rock! Hopefully I can get the next chapter out quicker and the camping experience can begin in earnest!**

**Review?**


End file.

Glee, Friendship