Welcome to Blam Week! Today is Day 1: Student/teacher.

Originally, this story was meant to be a oneshot. But as soon as I started plotting it, the story just got out of control, so now it's a mulitchapter story! I have absolutely no idea how long this story will be, or when I'll have time to write the next chapter, so it might be a while before I add any more chapters. But they will be coming as soon as I have the time to continue it.

As always, I'd like to thank my wonderful beta, Tuuzmorado.

You'd think that being a college sophomore would mean that you wouldn't be intimidated by being called to the principal's off, but as Blaine stepped inside, he was just as nervous as he would have been in high school. "You wanted to speak to me, Principal Figgins?"

"Yes, sit down," Figgins said, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. Blaine did so, wondering why he'd been called here. He'd been a teacher's assistant at McKinley for over a month now, and he couldn't think of anything he'd done that could have gotten him in trouble. Or, anything he'd done, period. The teacher he was supposed to be helping didn't seem to care about his presence one way or another, so he spent most of his time sitting in the corner with nothing to do.

"You are the college student who is assisting Mrs. Bell?" Figgins asked, and Blaine nodded. At least, he was if you used the word "assisting" loosely. As an education major at Lima University, Blaine received a placement at local schools as part of his classes. Last year, he'd at least somewhat enjoyed the schools he was placed at. This year, though, his placement at McKinley was really making him regret ever letting his parents talk him into becoming a teacher.

"Excellent," Figgins said. "I need you to substitute for Mr. Schuester. He'd moving to Washington DC for most of the year, and we haven't found a substitute yet. And if you take the position, you can work for free as part of your placement at this school, and we won't have to pay a real substitute."

Blaine frowned, deciding to ignore the part about how they'd only chosen him because he had to work for free, because he had no idea what to say to that. "So, you want me to completely take over a class? Like, teach it by myself?"

"Oh, no, of course not," Figgins said, and Blaine started to relax slightly. "Mr. Schuester has five classes. You will be teaching all of them."

Blaine just stared at him, not quite sure if he believed this. Part of him was really, really hoping that this was just a dream, or a joke, or pretty much anything else that meant this wasn't real. "For how long?"

"Mr. Schuester is going to be away until the end of January," Figgins said. "However, as you are only supposed to work for McKinley until the end of the semester, you will at least be working until December. After that, we can decide if you'll come back for the last month that he's gone, or if we have to find someone else." He frowned, probably seeing the less-than-thrilled expression that Blaine was sure was showing on his face. "Is this a problem?"

"No, no," Blaine said quickly, because it really shouldn't be. He was training to be a teacher, after all. This was what he was going to do someday. So what if he was being told to take over a class for the next three months, and he didn't have any warning, and the extent of his teaching experience came down to grading papers and that one time last year that he'd been allowed to go over test answers with a class while the teacher had gone to the bathroom? He was going to be a teacher, so he'd better start dealing with things like this.

"I'm only supposed to come to McKinley twice a week for my placement," Blaine said. "If I substitute for Mr. Schuester, I'll have to come here every day."

"I have already spoken to your university about that," Figgins said. "They agreed to give you extra credit for your time here. Unless you have classes during the day?"

"...No," Blaine said after a moment. When he'd chosen his classes, he hadn't known yet when his placement was going to be, so all of his classes were in the afternoon, after normal school hours had ended.

"Then there shouldn't be any problems," Figgins said, smiling proudly. "Oh, and you will also be directing the school's glee club. They're National champions, so make sure they don't lose. It makes the school look good when they do well."

"Glee club?" Blaine asked, smiling a little despite himself. Okay, so the thought of having to teach an entire class by himself was still incredibly intimidating. But he could handle glee club. He'd been the lead singer back when he was in high school, and had led Dalton Academy to Nationals three years in a row (they'd only won once, during his Junior year, but still). Blaine had even wanted to become a music teacher, though his parents had convinced him that becoming a math teacher would make more sense, since he'd be more likely to get a job that way.

"So you will accept the job?" Figgins asked.

Blaine bit his lip and only hesitated a for a moment before saying, "Yes, of course." Because if there was one thing he had learned, it was that you never turned down a job if your boss asked you to do it – that didn't make the right impression. Figgins wasn't technically his boss, but Blaine figured that the same principle applied here. He still didn't want to, but he'd find a way to manage it.

"Wonderful," Figgins said. "Now, you should head down to the classroom now. Just go down the hallway and take a left, then it should be the second classroom on your right."

Blaine nodded and stood, figuring that Figgins probably wanted him to go talk to the teacher, maybe sit in on a few classes so he'd know what to do when he took over soon. "When does Mr. Schuester leave for Washington?"

"He left last night," Figgins said, checking his watch. "His first-hour class has been on their own for about twenty minutes now, so you should probably get down there as fast as you can."

Blaine just stared at him. Figgins hadn't bothered to get a sub until after Mr. Schuester had left? Wasn't something like that supposed to be done in advance? Blaine was pretty sure this wasn't how normal schools worked. At least, he hoped it wasn't.

"What am I teaching?" Blaine asked after a moment, since Figgins looked like he didn't see anything wrong with finding a substitute so late, so asking about it would probably be pointless. Blaine hoped that he'd be teaching math, since that was what he was majoring in, and definitely his best subject. Well, besides music, but he already knew that McKinley didn't offer that as a class. But if he had to teach something else, he'd probably be fine. He'd taken advanced classes in pretty much every subject, so he was sure he'd understand well enough to teach it, whatever the class was.

"Spanish," Figgins said.

Blaine froze. Out of every subject it could have been, that was the only one he didn't know. Blaine was pretty good in French, and even had a basic understanding of Latin, but Spanish? "I don't speak Spanish."

"Neither does Schuester," Figgins said. "It will be alright. I don't think the students can tell the difference."

Yeah, this was definitely not how most schools worked. Blaine shook his head and walked out of the office, trying to figure out how he was supposed to make it through three months of teaching a language he didn't know. He was really starting to regret being an education major.

Blaine found Mr. Schuester's classroom easily enough. He paused for a moment outside the door and took a deep breath. "You can do this," he whispered, and immediately felt a little silly for talking to himself, but he needed the reassurance. When he'd pictured himself being a teacher, it had always been in the distant future, when he'd be prepared for it. Not being thrust into this situation when he didn't have any time to prepare for it. Still, it wasn't like he could just walk away, so after a moment he slowly pushed open the door.

He wasn't surprised that most of the class had left. They'd been left alone in a classroom for over twenty minutes, after all. It was more of a surprise that three of the students had stayed. A boy and a girl sat over in the corner of the front row, holding hands and talking. A blonde boy sat directly behind them, playing on a hand-held video game with the volume turned all the way up.

"Everyone else left?" Blaine asked, even though the answer was obvious, just because he wasn't sure what else to say.

The girl nodded. "Who are you?"

"My name is Mr. Anderson." It still felt weird to call himself that. "I'm your substitute teacher."

The girl's eyes flickered to the clock. "Did you get caught in traffic?"

Blaine shook his head. "Oh, no. Actually, I was a student teacher for Mrs. Bell, so I was already in the building, but Principal Figgins didn't ask me to substitute until a few minutes ago." He walked over to the teacher's desk and started looking through the drawers. There weren't any lesson plans in the top drawer, where Blaine expected them to be, but he wasn't going to give up. Mostly because he had no idea what he would do if there weren't any lesson plans.

The blonde boy's video game suddenly gave a bunch of loud beeps. "Sorry," he said, ducking his head and switching off the game. "I'll put it away."

"Go ahead and keep it on," Blaine said. He wasn't sure if this was allowed – video games had been strictly banned at Dalton, but McKinley seemed much more lax about those rules. "Since everyone else is gone, let's just call today a free day. I'll start the lessons tomorrow."

"Thanks," the blonde boy said, though he didn't turn the game back on.

Blaine pulled open the last desk drawer. It was completely empty. "Shit," he grumbled, then cringed and glanced up at the students. "Uh, can you forget I said that?" He was a teacher now, even if he was only nineteen. He couldn't swear in front of his student's, for god's sake!

"Sure," the blonde boy agreed easily. "Need help with something?"

"Do you have any idea where the lesson plans might be?" Blaine asked almost tentatively. He was supposed to be in charge; he shouldn't have to ask them how to find things.

"Try the filing cabinet behind you," the boy said. "That's where Mr. Schue keeps a ton of his papers."

Blaine turned, and sure enough, there was a giant filing cabinet less than a foot away from him. One that he completely hadn't noticed. "Thanks," he said, pulling open the top drawer. The lesson plans were the first things he saw.

"Oh, thank god," he whispered to himself as he pulled them out, almost too relieved about finding them to be embarrassed about not noticing the cabinet. Almost.

He relaxed a little now that he knew where the lesson plans were. At least he wouldn't have to come up with them on his own, which would be basically impossible. Now, he turned back to the students. "What are your names?"

"Sam Evans," the blonde boy said with a grin.

"Marley Rose," the girl said.

"And I'm Jake Puckerman," said the boy she was holding hands with.

Blaine nodded, trying to commit those names to memory. At least learning three at a time was easier than learning a dozen or more, which is what he'd have to do in his other classes, when he actually a full class show up. "Which class is this?" he asked, looking down at the lesson plan to try to get an idea.

"It's Spanish Two," Marley supplied.

"So you're sophomores?" Blaine asked. At Dalton, there had been four classes for each language. Students generally started with the first class their freshman year and then stuck with that language for the rest of high school. He figured that the same would be true at McKinley, meaning that most of the people in the second class would be sophomores.

"Jake and I are," Marley said. "Sam's a senior."

Sam nodded. "I just really, really suck at Spanish," he said.

"That makes two of us," Blaine mumbled, before realizing that that was probably the last thing he should have told his students. He really needed to get a hold of himself. Sure, the idea of teaching scared him way too much, but he couldn't keep saying these kinds of things. He sat down and pulled out the first lesson plan, trying to look like he was reading it, but really he was just trying to calm his nerves before he did something else stupid.

He spent the rest of the class reading through the lesson plans. Mr. Schuester had organized it well – each class has a specific lesson that they did in the book every day, with a specific worksheet or assignment to go with the lesson. There were even a few days where the class just watched movies. All in all, it didn't look nearly as terrifying as he thought. Maybe he could do this.

The bell rang, taking Blaine by surprise. The class had gone by much faster than he'd thought, and nothing had gone wrong so far. Of course, he was sure it would be different when he had more than three kids, but still. That had to count for something.

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Anderson," Jake said as he and Marley left.

"See you then," Blaine said. He turned toward Sam, who was walking over to Blaine's desk. "Do you need something?"

"Yeah, uh, Mr. Schue normally tutors me a couple days a week after school," Sam says. "I was wondering if you could help me with that, or if I should find someone else."

"Oh," Blaine said. He'd never thought about tutoring, but it didn't seem possible. How was he supposed to tutor in a subject that he didn't even know. "I don't think I can do that."

Sam looked a little disappointed, but he nodded. "That's cool. I'll ask around. There's got to be at least one other person in this school who can tutor me, right?"

Blaine bit his lip. He didn't exactly want to be a tutor on top of being a teacher, but at the same time, he'd be doing a pretty crappy job if one of his students ended up getting a bad grade because Blaine didn't do enough to help him. "I can try," he offered. "To be honest, I don't speak Spanish, but I could help you learn the vocabulary words and use the book to figure out anything I don't know."

Sam grinned. "Thanks. It's just, none of the students I've ever had tutor me were any good, so I don't know where I'd find someone else. I figure that even if you don't know the subject, you've still got a teaching degree, so that's got to count for something."

"Actually, I don't," Blaine admitted. "I'm just a sophomore in college. But I've taken classes on how to be a teacher, so that's got to count for something, right?"

"Really?" Sam looked surprised. "You look older than that. I mean, not in a bad way. Just, you know, I thought you would have graduated already."

Blaine chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment," he said, making Sam grin at him again. "Do you want to come in after school today?"

"I can't," Sam said. "I've got glee club after school. Maybe later this week?"

"You could come in after glee club," Blaine offered, doing the math in his head. He had a class at six tonight. McKinley got out at three, so he should have time for both the club and tutoring, and still have enough time to grab something to eat before his class.

"Really? Thanks," Sam said, glancing up at the clock. "Gotta run if I'm going to make it to my next class, but I'll see you after school."

"Bye, Sam." Blaine smiled as he watched Sam rush out the door, just as several other kids were entering. One class down, only four more before the end of the day. He could handle that.

He smiled at the students walking in, then stood and wrote his name across the top of the whiteboard. Sure, this wasn't what he'd expected, but he could do it. After all, he just had to teach his classes some vocabulary words and verb conjugations. How hard could it be?