A/N I must be a glutton for punishment, because I am actually starting yet ANOTHER Story! Yes, I will continue with Their Love is Out of This World and The Final Bite.

This story has been going through my head for a while now, but lately it's been more insistent that I write it. It's a bit different than what I normally write, a bit darker, a bit more sinister. Hopefully you won't hate me for this.

As always, Reviews are welcome!

…

Dalton Academy for Boys

Dalton boys are fine and fair of face

Dalton boys move with dignity and grace

Dalton boys are exceptional in every way

because Dalton boys are trained to obey

…

Kurt stood staring up at the stone edifice, feeling completely out of place. He had no idea what he was doing here. This place was for rich kids, not for the over indulged son of a mechanic. So why was he here?

Because it was no longer safe for him at McKinley, and his dad didn't feel as if he'd be safe at any public school after The Incident. Kurt still woke up in the middle of the night sometimes, covered in sweat and gasping for breath. He shook the images from his mind before they could take hold and turned to look at the older man beside him.

"Ready, kiddo?" his dad asked. Kurt sighed, adjusting the strap of his carry case over his shoulder, and grabbed the handle of his suitcase, as his dad and Finn picked up the three boxes of personal items he'd brought along. He'd packed light, knowing he wouldn't have much room in his dorm, as he'd be sharing it with another boy. And it wasn't like he'd need to bring his entire wardrobe, since he'd be wearing a uniform most of the time.

"I'm ready, I guess."

They entered the building and were greeted by Ms. Hargrove, the Dean's secretary. She smiled, and although he was certain she meant it to be kind and welcoming, Kurt couldn't help but envision a harpy eagle eyeing up it's prey.

"Mr. Hummel, welcome to Dalton Academy for boys. Allow me to introduce Mr. Montgomery and Mr. Thompson, two of our Senior class members." Kurt looked at the two boys, one Asian and one African American, both of whom stood still as mannequins. "They will show you to your dorm, introduce you to your roommate, and help you find your classes for your first few days here. They will also fill you in on the the rules and answer any questions you might have."

The darker boy stepped forward, breaking the illusion of stillness, and took the box from Burt, while the other boy took the boxes from Finn. Kurt hugged his dad and step brother goodbye, and followed the older boys up a winding stairway.

The Asian boy smiled at him. "I'm Wes, by the way. This is David."

Kurt flinched at the name, but smiled at them all the same. "I'm Kurt."

As they made their way to the fourth floor, Kurt saw several boys in the hallways, all talking in whispers. There was no obnoxious laughter or shouts, there was no rough housing or jostling among them. It was almost eerily silent.

"It's so quiet," he said, softly. "If I didn't see people standing around, I could almost imagine I was alone in the hallways."

"It's quiet time, from 4:30 to 6pm," David said just above a whisper. "Once the dinner bell rings, the noise level will go up. For now it's time for study, and for the faculty to go over the homework that was turned in, and prepare their lesson plans for tomorrow."

They stopped outside room 412, and Wes took a key from his pocket. "Your roommate will be here in about fifteen minutes, he has boxing practice after class on Mondays." He unlocked the door and ushered him inside.

Kurt's first thought was that the room was larger than he expected. His second thought was that it was extraordinarily neat. Everything on the occupied side of the room was organized and in it's place, and there wasn't a speck of dust to be seen. He was impressed, he thought he was the only neat freak in the state of Ohio. He set his bag down on the bed on the unoccupied side of the room, and rolled the suitcase over by the closet on that side. The other two boys deposited his boxes on the desk chair in the corner.

He began to unpack as the other two went over the rules. Most of them were straight forward; no running in the halls, no bullying, no inappropriate language, be respectful to the teachers, observe quiet time and no littering in the cafeteria. But a couple of them seemed a little strange to him; PDAs were to be restricted to the cafeteria, dorm doors were to remain unlocked after 8pm and until first bell in the morning.

"Why?" He questioned.

"Random dorm checks for contraband." David replied.

"No, I mean the PDAs," Kurt said. "I mean, yeah the leaving the doors unlocked is confusing too, but why have a rule about public displays of affection at an all boys school? Are there really that many gay boys here? And why allow PDAs at all? I would have thought the rule would be to keep that stuff behind closed doors."

Both David and Wes seemed confused by the question. "What exactly do you consider public displays of affection?" Wes asked.

Kurt frowned. Were they serious? "Uh, well, it's generally defined as any prolonged skin to skin contact such as holding hands or kissing, or a physical embrace beyond a congratulatory or greeting hug."

The Asian boy smiled in understanding. "Ahh, yeah, kissing and physical contact are definitely kept behind closed doors. The rule applies to hand holding, and casual contact. And yes, there are several gay and bisexual boys here, but this is not a gay school."

Kurt was still confused, but before he could ask for clarification, the door opened and a boy entered. He was a little shorter than Kurt, with dark curly hair that was fighting to break free from the gel he used to pin it down. When he glanced up at Kurt, his hazel eyes trapped Kurt's gaze like an insect trapped in amber.

Kurt swallowed as he could see the sweat dripping down the boy's face. The boy smiled at him, and he felt his knees go weak.

"Ah, Blaine," David said. "This is your new roommate, Kurt Hummel. Kurt, this is Blaine Anderson, Dalton's featherweight boxing champion, and lead soloist of the Warblers."

"Hi," Blaine said stepping closer and extending his hand.

"Hello," Kurt replied, his voice coming out higher than usual. He cleared his throat and spoke again. "It's nice to meet you."

Blaine's smile widened. "Kurt Hummel, from New Directions?"

Whoa, this gorgeous boy had heard of him? "Yeah?"

"Oh my gosh! Please tell me you are going to try out for the Warblers?"

Wes looked confused. "You know him?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. "You should too! Don't you read the show choir blogs? New Directions won their Sectionals last year, despite the fact that they had their set list stolen by their competitors! They were also in a Mattress Land commercial, and their lead female vocalist was egged by Vocal Adrenaline!"

The other two boys both perked up.

"You guys won a competition performing on the fly?" Wes asked, awed.

"You guys must have been really good if Vocal Adrenaline thought they needed to intimidate you!" David said practically at the same time.

"You saw the Mattress Land commercial?" Kurt asked, remembering bouncing around in blue pajamas.

Blaine smiled again. "Yeah, you were amazing!"

Kurt blushed at the praise. "Thanks. I almost broke my neck doing a back flip, and Quinn accidentally kicked me in a highly sensitive location." Oh Gaga, did I just say that out loud?

Blaine's laugh was charming, and in no way derogatory. "Well, I'm certainly glad you didn't break your neck!"

A soft chime came from Wes' pocket. "Oh, hey, ten minutes until the dinner bell rings. You'll want to put on your uniform, Kurt."

"And I need a shower," Blaine added, heading towards the ensuite bathroom.

"We'll come back in a few minutes to walk you to the dining hall," David said as he and Wes headed to the door.

"Thanks," Kurt said before the door closed behind them. He quickly changed as he heard the shower running, and was just tying his shoe when Blaine came out, hair once again gelled into submission and still buttoning his shirt. Kurt could see a V of tantalizing skin before the boy turned into his closet and grabbed his blazer and tie. Kurt forced himself not to stare.

"So, why did you leave McKinley?" Blaine asked, his back to Kurt as he finished dressing.

It was an innocent question, Kurt knew, but he could feel his chest tightening up, and his throat constricting as the memory flashed through his mind. The cold metal against his back, the steam from the showers, the smell of sweat cloying in his nose. His heart seemed to be trying to race and stutter at the same time.

"Kurt? Kurt! Hey, it's okay, just breathe!" Blaine's voice came from somewhere close by, and he tried to blink him into focus as the shorter boy leaned over him. When had he sat down on the floor? "Shh! It's alright, calm down. I'm sorry if I said something that upset you."

Kurt shook his head, trying to tell the other boy that it wasn't his fault, but he still couldn't speak, still trying to pull in a full breath. The other boy seemed to understand. His voice was soft, and compassionate as he pushed Kurt's head down to rest on his knees. "You're having a panic attack, aren't you? I recognize the symptoms. I had them frequently after I was attacked. That's what happened to you, isn't it?"

Kurt managed a weak nod of his head. Blaine stood and went to the bathroom and filled a glass with water, and brought it back. "Here, take small sips and try to relax."

He then sat behind Kurt and began rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, helping to loosen up tensed muscles and encourage easier breathing. Kurt finally managed to pull in a deep breath just as Wes and David returned. The handsome Asian boy took in the situation immediately.

"Panic attack?" He asked. Blaine nodded for Kurt, who was blushing in embarrassment. "It's okay, Kurt. Don't feel ashamed. You aren't the first or the last boy here to have them. Everyone here has their own story. If and when you are ready, you can tell us. Just take deep breaths."

"Feeling better now?" David asked a moment later. Kurt nodded and slowly stood up just as the dinner bell rang.

"I'm sorry," he said, voice still weak. "It hasn't even been a week since..." He trailed off, unable to finish as his throat threatened to close up again.

Blaine patted him on the back. "It's okay, just try to focus on something else for a moment. I won't tell you to try not to think about it, because I know that is almost impossible. Just focus on something pleasant for a few minutes until you feel calm enough. Think about joining the Warblers, and all the fun we could have singing together." The boy gave him a wry smile, and Kurt couldn't help but smile back.

Wes laughed softly. "That's our Blaine, always the charmer. He could charm the scales off a cobra."

Kurt couldn't help the little giggle that escaped at that. David smiled at him. "Come on, let's go down to the dining hall. It's lasagna night, and no one and nothing gets between Blaine and his lasagna!"

The shorter boy laughed and punched the darker boy in the arm. "Seriously, though, Kurt," Blaine began. "Do you feel up to going down to dinner? If not you could lay down and rest, and I could bring you back a tray if you like."

Kurt shook his head. "I'm okay, and I love lasagna too."

The trip downstairs was much different than the trip up. There were still several boys along the halls, but now they were more animated, laughing, joking, shoving each other good naturedly. It was almost as if it was a completely different school. Kurt followed the other three boys, who seemed to be very popular, as several people greeted them as they passed. The trio all smiled and returned the greetings, and even stopped a couple of times to introduce Kurt.

As they entered the dining hall and gathered up their trays, Wes and David kept pointing out various people to Kurt and saying things like "That's Cam, he'll be in your French class," or, "Greg is a mathematical genius, if you need help with tutoring," and, "Jacob there is in your chemistry class, but beware, he'll talk your ear off if you get partnered with him."

They led him over to a large table in the center of the dining hall. "This is the Warblers' table. You can sit with us if you'd like," Blaine offered. Kurt nodded and sat between Blaine and David. Kurt couldn't help but notice the way the other boys all seemed to treat the Warblers with respect, some of them even seemed in awe of the fact that the new kid was allowed to grace their table.

"Why is everyone looking at us like that?" He asked Blaine softly.

"Like what?"

"I don't know, some of them are looking over here like Lady Gaga just walked into the room."

Blaine laughed softly. "The Warblers are the most prestigious club at Dalton. They're like rock stars. Everyone wants to join, but only a few are selected."

"Oh," Kurt said, sounding dismayed.

Blaine just smiled at him. "Relax, I can pretty much guarantee you'll get a spot once Wes and the rest of the council hear you sing." He then proceeded to introduce him to the rest of the boys at the table. There was Thad, who along with Wes and David presided on the Warbler council, Jon, who everyone called Beatz, Nick and Jeff, who were holding hands and leaning on each other, Trent, who seemed to have a sunny disposition, and several others whose names Kurt couldn't keep up with yet.

Everyone at the table smiled at Kurt and made certain to engage him in conversations. In a way, Kurt felt strange to be sitting there among the 'cool' kids and be accepted. No one questioned his sexuality, no one said anything about his effeminate voice, and no one seemed to notice that he was just some nobody whose dad owned a garage. It seemed too good to be true, and he was afraid he was going to wake up and find it was all a dream.

…

After dinner, Kurt and Blaine returned to their room. Blaine still had homework to finish, so Kurt quietly finished unpacking his things. The last item he unpacked was a picture frame. He sat quietly on his bed, studying the photograph. It was from his eighth birthday party. He was beaming at the camera as his Dad and his mom laughed and hugged him. He traced his finger over his mother's face.

"Are those your parents?" A soft voice asked. Kurt looked up to see that Blaine had finished his homework, and was looking over his shoulder.

"Yeah. My mom died just a few months after it was taken."

"I'm sorry. How did it happen, if you don't mind me asking?"

Kurt shrugged and turned to rest his back against his headboard. "Ovarian cancer that spread quickly. By the time they diagnosed it, it was already too late."

"You look like her. Except the ears. Those you got from your dad."

Kurt laughed. "He says the only thing I got from him was his pigheadedness. He's great though. He's my rock. I almost lost him too, recently. He had a heart attack a month and a half ago, and almost died."

Blaine sat beside him on the bed. "That sucks. But he's okay now, isn't he?"

"Yeah, but I still worry about him. I'm just glad he has Carole to take care of him while I'm here."

"Carole?"

"My stepmom. They just got married the day before the...incident." He forced himself to take a deep breath before he continued. "That's her there, in the picture on the desk, along with my new stepbrother, Finn, dancing together at the wedding."

Blaine stood and went over to the desk to study the picture. "Wow, he's tall. Do you have any other siblings?"

Kurt shook his head. "No. Do you?"

"Yeah, an older brother. Cooper. He's twenty six."

"That's a big age difference." Kurt said. Blaine nodded as he looked at the other pictures Kurt had on his desk. There was one of him and Mercedes, a group photo of New Directions after winning sectionals last year, and a picture of Kurt and the girls in their Gaga outfits from Bad Romance.

"My parents only wanted one child. I was...unexpected." Kurt could hear the sadness in the other boy's voice.

"I'm sorry." He didn't know what else to say. The dark haired boy just shrugged and turned back around to face him, a self deprecating smile on his face.

"My relationship with my parents has always been a bit strained. They just didn't know what to do with me. Cooper was always the perfect child; good looking, well mannered, intelligent. No matter what I did or how hard I tried, I never seemed to measure up to him. And then when I came out to them, they really didn't know how to react. Oh, don't get me wrong, they aren't cruel or anything. They just don't know how to act around me."

"That sucks. I'm sorry." Kurt studied the other boy. The fact that he'd admitted that he was gay made Kurt's heart skip a beat. He wouldn't let himself think about why that was. He didn't have a very good track record with crushes, and he refused to let himself get his hopes up again.

"It's not your fault, I don't even know why I brought it up, really. I mean, you hardly know me, and I just drop my baggage in your lap." Blaine said, moving back to his side of the room. He opened a drawer and pulled out a candle and matches. He set the candle on the table between their beds and lit it, then drifted back over to his desk.

"It's okay," Kurt replied. "Besides, I went and had a panic attack practically at your feet within the first fifteen minutes of meeting you. I guess we're even now." He smiled as the scent of lavender and something else he didn't recognize filled his nose. The smell was making him drowsy.

"I know, and I'm still sorry."

Kurt tried to stifle a yawn as his eyelids grew heavier. "Sorry for what?" he asked, his words slurring a little as sleep dragged at him. He was beginning to feel a little alarmed, sensing that something wasn't right, but he couldn't keep his eyes open.

As he succumbed to the darkness, he thought he heard Blaine say sadly, "I'm sorry you came to Dalton."