Author's Note: Beware references to Blaine's season 6 plot if you're spoiler-phobic.
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.
Home
Holding his breath, Blaine used one of his brand new keys to open the door to his office. His office! The lock clicked and the door swung open, and some tension Blaine hadn't even known he was carrying released inside of him. This was real. This was something he was doing for himself after putting the needs and wants of others ahead of his own for so long.
This was a place to heal. Again. Though this time the fractures were in his heart rather than on his body.
Blaine stepped inside the office, and his breath caught in his throat. Not only was the space huge, it was gorgeous. Ornate decorations and handcrafted furniture comprised Blaine's setup, despite him not even being a teacher.
But, Blaine supposed as he slowly turned to survey his new haven, glee was the football of Dalton, bringing in donors the way sports did in most schools. Dalton, of course, had its own sports teams as well and they were well-supported, but the Warblers were, well, rock stars.
After completing a full turn, Blaine made his way to the desk, his hand dragging across the polished wood surface in wonder. But he paused when he saw a package on the desk. His name was written on an index card slipped under two ribbons—one red, one blue. Cute.
There were no other words on the card, though, no indication of who the sender was, so Blaine pulled the ribbons off the box and lifted the top off. Underneath a layer of tissue paper he found a Dalton blazer, neatly folded.
Blaine inhaled as he pulled the blazer from the box, reverently tracing the piping and Dalton crest with a finger, savoring the familiar feel of the fabric under his fingers. His original blazer was still in the back of his closet at home, a bitter reminder of how even the things (people) closest to your heart can (will) hurt you in the most painful betrayals of all.
That was a lesson Blaine seemed destined to learn over and over again, like Sisyphus pushing the boulder up the hill day in and day out.
He'd almost had a replacement blazer from his near-transfer back to Dalton senior year, but he'd eventually left that jacket behind—with Dalton, he'd wrongly thought as he'd run side-by-side with Sam across the Dalton lawns, rescued trophy in hand.
But Blaine knew now that he would never—could never—truly leave Dalton behind.
Letting out a slow breath, Blaine pulled the blazer on, the familiar weight settling on his shoulders like a superhero cape—there to both empower and protect. He shut his eyes, remembering; he let the fond memories of performing Warbler songs wash over him.
When he opened his eyes again, Blaine noticed another card in the bottom of the box. He pulled it out and let out a surprised laugh when he recognized the No Thanks written in his own handwriting.
On instinct, Blaine flipped the card over. Something warm settled in his chest at the note written in a familiar scrawl—Welcome home.
Blaine pulled out his phone and sent a quick text, smiling at the almost instantaneous reply.
To: Sebastian Smythe
Thanks for the jacket
From: Sebastian Smythe
Once a Warbler, always a Warbler, right?