A.N. I was just wondering how a conversation between a Warbler and Blaine would go. James is an OC, but I feel like he's just the generic Warbler—going along with it because he wants to fit in, or because he's afraid of Sebastian. Nothing else belongs to me. Please review, even if it is to tell me that it sucks.
James brushed the sleeves of his white button-up shirt for the thousandth time, and then looked for lint on his slacks for the millionth time. Normally, he didn't care about looking this good. His normal clothes consisted of jeans and faded T-shirts. But this was a special occasion. Today, James was summoning his courage to do what was right—no matter how hard it was. And he took the Spartain view on clothes: you wear your best clothing going into battle, just in case you never come out again. James stopped in front of a house. This was it. He checked the address that he had gotten from a friend, checked his clothes again, and then knocked timidly on the door. A woman opened it. She looked worn, tired… and slightly suspicious of James. "Mrs Anderson," James said softly. "My name is James Mathews. Could I please talk to Blaine?"
-Page Break-
James sat on a small chair next to Blaine's bed. Blaine's boyfriend had been sitting there, but Blaine had asked him to leave for the conversation. James spent the first few minutes looking down at his hands. He was scared to look at Blaine. Every time he looked at Blaine, he saw the eye patch, and he was reminded: 'You did this. You helped hurt him. You put him into the hospital.' James had never felt so guilty in his life. A gentle touch on his arm made him look over at Blaine. The other boy was smiling gently at him. His face showed such gentleness, such honesty… such forgiveness. James knew that he would never forgive himself if he didn't apologize to this amazing person; if he didn't make things right. So he summoned up his courage, and started his story.
"My name's James Mathews. I transferred to Dalton a few weeks ago, and I joined the Glee Club right away. At first, I thought it was really cool, you know? People who I didn't know knew my name and congratulated me. I was respected by the teachers. And I made some great friends. The only problem was that the Warblers were pretty much being run by Sebastian. He was telling us the songs we should sing, the dance moves we should do, even when to do the performances to the school. At first the Council fought back, trying to stop him. But he had most of the younger boys following him like sheep, and he insisted that the Council was the reason why the Warblers never made it to Nationals. With him around, it wasn't as much fun.
"So when Sebastian announced the Jackson-Off, I thought it would be cool. Some friendly competition, maybe a chance to meet some new people. But then he asked me to bring a Slushie with me, and he told me that he was going to toss it at the Latino girl—you know, the one who keeps on shooting her mouth at everyone? I thought that it was kind of cruel, but he insisted that it was a Warbler tradition. He said that it was like Vocal Adrenaline's 'Funkification'—a way to really bring the challenge to them. So I brought it with me." James flinched when he heard Blaine's gasp of shock. "I didn't put salt into it," he said quickly. "I did an experiment with snow and salt… I know that salt actually makes the snow colder, and leaches out the heat. I just brought the Slushie. And then Sebastian was aiming it at your boyfriend, and you dove in the way, and you were screaming… and I tried to turn around to help, but one of Sebastian's goons grabbed me and dragged me off to the cars."
At this point, James summoned his courage. The next part of this could not be said to his hands. He met Blaine's eye, and said softly, "I'm sorry. I never should have brought the Slushie. I should have told Sebastian to get stuffed. I should have..." Blaine cut James off. Now that James was looking at him, Blaine noticed something strange about him. "James," he said slowly, "why are your eyes red?" Now that he was paying attention, Blaine noticed that James' skin on his face was much redder than on his hands and arms. James flushed, and ducked his head again. "Yesterday Sebastian decided that I should be punished for 'betraying' the Warblers by going back to check on you. So he had a few of his friends hold me still, and he threw a Slushie at my face—a normal one, without the rock salt." James looked back at Blaine, who looked like he wanted to explode. "It doesn't matter, anyways," James said. "It's the least I deserve, and the dry cleaners said that they can get the stain out. I'm so sorry…"
James jumped to feel Blaine take his hand. "James," Blaine said, "enough. This wasn't your fault. Yes, it was stupid of you to bring the Slushie, no matter who they were aiming it at. But you made up for it by trying to return to help me. The fact that you came personally to apologize, that you were willing to take your own Slushie to the face as part of some need to punish yourself… it just shows your character. None of the other Warblers came to apologize—not even my old friends. You are a good person, James, and it is an honor to know you." James smiled at Blaine in silent thanks. They sat there together, reveling in their newfound friendship, and James rejoiced in the feeling of forgiveness.