A/N: I have never written a fanfic, before, EVER, and this is sort of terrifying. So please be gentle. I am thinking of continuing this (read: I've basically already started the next chapter), but I wanted to see what kind of response it got first. Also, I live in Ohio (not near Lima though) and I'm taking artistic license with regards to distance and travel between Westerville and McKinley. Mostly because I can and because Ryan doesn't seem to do research either. But anyway, enjoy! The title is a quote from Alice in Wonderland, and it is very important to the end of the story. And, it will be a happy ending. I don't like sad endings, so I won't write them. Also, this is unbetaed and I am a flawed human being, so please, if you catch any mistakes, don't hesitate to point them out!

EDIT: Okay, take two. I'm sorry if you read this and then it disappeared, but apparently I fail at life and in the process of trying to edit it I somehow deleted it. D: Did anyone else have this problem the first time they posted a story? *hides face in mortification*

Disclaimer: Glee is not mine. Neither is Blaine or Kurt or anyone else you recognize. Trust me, I am not that cool.

All the Best People Are

It was the loud, obnoxious whistling of his alarm clock that made Blaine realize, quite suddenly, that he was awake and staring dumbly at his ceiling. He absently wondered how long he'd been laying in bed half-conscious. His arms and legs felt heavy with the sort of stillness that only comes from muscles being held immobile and his eyes felt gritty and tired, so he supposed it must have been awhile. It was dark, and uncomfortably cool, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up under the covers and forget about McKinley and today and the fact that instead of a sea of starched navy and red to greet him on his first day, he'd most likely be welcomed with a sea of red and blue slushies. He shut his eyes and pressed the heels of his hands against them until it hurt. He exhaled sharply and threw an arm out in the general direction of the buzzing alarm.

The sudden silence was both welcomed and regretted. It was a loud sort of silence, punctuated only by his uneven breaths, the rhythmic chirring of the crickets near his window, and the sleepy sounds of the world outside as it slumbered away without him. It was very early, and the house—his room—seemed empty and endless around him, and it would be so easy to just close his eyes and slide back into thoughtless darkness.

Courage, Blaine, courage! C'mon, you can do it. Up, up, up, his mind rather helpfully supplied. He snorted, and was left to wonder if this was a sign of madness.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the thump of his phone as it vibrated off the nightstand and landed on his pillow. He looked at it strangely for a moment before realizing it was backlit with a candid picture of his boyfriend. He sighed dreamily, something he seemed to do a lot when his thoughts turned to Kurt, and hurriedly pressed answer.

"Blaine, I know you like sleeping in, and as your awesome boyfriend I would normally be very happy to enable your bum-like behavior, but I'm serious, if you make me late today I'll—"

"Whoa, whoa, I'm awake!"

"Oh, good morning then." A tinkling, musical laugh followed over the line.

Blaine smiled, humming softly to a tuneless melody. He felt ridiculous, and probably looked even more so while smiling in the dark like a love-sick puppy, but Kurt affected him in a way no one else ever had.

"—aine. Hello? Blaine Anderson, you had better not have fallen asleep again!"

"Sorry, what did you say? I got distracted." He turned on the bedside lamp and rolled out of bed, finally, suddenly feeling like he'd been lying down for far too long. A jittery kind of anxiety had settled near the base of his spine, and he sprinted to the other side of the room to dispel it, but it only coiled tighter.

"What were you thinking about?"

"You."

"You are a dork. But I love you anyway."

His heart swelled, and he almost hated it, because it reminded him how hopelessly smitten he was, how much he needed Kurt—something he was not used to yet, needing someone else so desperately that his chest ached with it—and how much Kurt really didn't need him, but stayed nonetheless, because for some reason, he saw a very imperfect boy perfectly and decided to love him anyway.

"I love you too." Well damn, he hadn't meant to sound so breathless. Or weepy. He leaned against his closet door and carefully composed himself.

"Blaine, are you crying? What's wrong?"

"…Of course I'm not crying. I'm fine. Just a little tired is all. And, you know, allergies." He faked a sneeze loudly for effect.

"Really."

He wanted to say, No, actually I'm not. I feel silly and awkward and unworthy of you and I don't want to leave Dalton, but I do, because I'm a coward and this is how I can prove to myself that I'm not completely unfixable and you don't need me, but I'm going to follow you anyway because I really, really need you to be mine forever… But he couldn't bring himself to voice it, so he choked the words back down his throat with a cough and said instead, "Really. I'm fine."

"If you're sure…oh, crap, is that the time? Blaine, I have to go, Finn's not awake yet, I still have to make breakfast and you need to hurry and get ready. I'll see you in a bit, okay? Love you!"

"Yeah, you're right. And, I love you too. A lot." He really had no excuse for turning into an emotional mess besides the fact that he was quite possibly losing his sanity. He laughed nervously, "And, um, I might be going crazy. At least I think so anyway."

"Oh, but only the best people are, dear."

"I knew I would regret buying you that movie." But seriously, how are you so perfect?

"You can't deny me anything and you know it. And as much as I would love to continue this, I really do have to go. See you later."

"Right, of course. See you later." There was a faint click and he let the phone slide down from his ear, its weight heavy and warm in his palm.

It was grounding, a constant pressure, and it kept momentarily from slipping back into the depression that had been plaguing him the deeper into summer—and the farther away from Dalton, and much closer to the edge of being irreversibly in love with Kurt—he got. It was something he could understand; it was tangible and real where his thoughts and feelings were messy and abstract and difficult to unravel. It wasn't much, but it was something.

But he couldn't stay there forever, gripping his phone and thinking in circles, so he set the phone on the corner of his desk and flicked the blinds open. A pale pink line was just highlighting the horizon, and a brisk wind had stirred up, shifting through the old, knotted branches of the oak in the backyard and out across the hay fields next door, the clover and alfalfa rippling like a ribbon caught in a wind stream. The ivy growing up the side of the house trembled and shook and the world seemed to come alive with a mighty yawn.

Blaine sighed, melancholy settling across his shoulders and sapping away the color until everything was grayscale and dulled. He turned away from the streaming peach light and moved back into the shadows of his room.

It was going to be a long day.