Notes: The Warblers are amazing.
The way back home
...But if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you. Go on, lean in. Listen, you hear it? - - Carpe - - hear it? - - Carpe, carpe diem, seize the day boys, make your lives extraordinary.
The bathroom floor is hard and the tile wall is cold against his back, like he's sitting on ice cubes. His whole body is trembling and he has to bite his lower lip to keep the sobs from getting too loud.
He closes his eyes and tries to regain his composure, but then the shadows turn to faces and cruel laughter fills his ears and he feels the punches and the kicks and the mocking stares, and he hears them, over and over again, fag, worthless, queer, abomination...
The door opens slowly, and he almost jumps, his heart goes on a frenzy, beating hard against his chest, his breath catches in his throat, and he curls further into the corner.
Wes closes the door and sits on the floor before him, staring at him with that look of utter calmness that's only his, and that makes Blaine feel like everything is going to be ok, even when it's not.
"You had a nightmare again?"
Blaine nods silently, avoiding all eye contact and focusing his gaze on the floor.
"I'm never leaving this place."
"You will." Wes laughs "One day, when you're stronger, you'll leave, we'll all leave."
"I won't." Blaine insists, voice low and filled with fear "I will ever go out there again."
Wes smiles and raises his hand to place it softly over Blaine's knee.
"You're safe here, Blaine, you're home, and Dalton's doors will be open for you as long as you wan them."
And Blaine, who feels worthless and broken and hopeless, clings to every word like it's his lifeline.
..
The doors are closed.
They've been open since the first time he crossed them, all those years ago, and now they're suddenly closed.
He grabs the golden doorknob with both hands and twists it, but it doesn't move. He puts both hands flat on the wooden surface and pushes hard, but nothing happens.
A subtle feeling of anxiety sets itself on his stomach, and the bile rises through his throat, and when he looks at his hands, he realizes they're shaking.
He pushes one more time more, but the door doesn't move, and the silver Dalton emblem that lies on the centre looks like it's mocking him, laughing with a voice with no face.
His legs start shaking, and his knees almost give out, and he tries to turn the doorknob again, but it still doesn't move.
He takes a deep, shaky breath and does the only thing he can think of.
"Hello, Wesley here. I'm drowning in college work, so please leave a message."
There's a bip on the line, and Blaine remains silent for a while, unsure of what to say. Unsure of everything.
¨Hey Wes, it's Blaine, I...I'm at Dalton and...and the doors are closed, and I...I don't know...I just...I don't know what to do..."
He tries to say something more, but his voice breaks and he ends the call without saying goodbye.
He looks around for some clue, but it's late and there's no one in sight. He tries opening the doors again, but they don't move. His knuckles turn white from the force with which he's gripping the doorknob, and finally, they start to shake too much and he has to let it go, and when he does, it feels like he's letting go of so much more, and something constricts inside him, and a pain he hasn't felt since the first time he came here settles in his chest, and the tears start to fall, and he turns around and runs, runs as fast as he can, until Dalton is just a blurry image, fading far away.
He knows who he's looking for when he enters Scandals. He knows he'll be here, he's always here, even on school nights, and Blaine is desperate for answers. He sits on a stool by the bar and searches for the one he's looking for. It doesn't take long to find him, the bar is almost empty and he spots him in the middle of the dance floor, eyes closed, grinding against some old man that looks at him like he's the most amazing thing that's ever crossed his path. And Blaine has to admit that it is kind of mesmerizing to watch Sebastian move like that, back and forth and up and down, like he's having slow, tantalizing sex with an imaginary partner. Something inside him stirs, and his insides start to burn and he has to look away and think of dead kittens to try to regain control. When he looks back at the dance floor, Sebastian's gone.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in. Fancy seeing you here, Anderson."
He knows something's wrong when it's "Anderson" instead of "Killer"
"The doors at Dalton are closed."
Sebastian laughs.
"Straight to the point, as always. We never chat anymore, Blaine, it really does hurt me."
"Please, like you can get hurt by something like that."
"Actually, I can't, I was just trying to be nice, but I suck at being nice as much as being nice sucks, so, tell me why you're here and let's get it over with, because I don't think you came for the cheap drinks and the boring company."
Sebastian used to look at Blaine like he was the most beautiful think he'd ever seen. His eyes used to travel up and down Blaine's body like he wanted desperately to reach out and touch him and never let him go, his smirk was always an almost smile, one that was reserved only for Blaine, and Blaine would sometimes smile, too, because Sebastian's smiles always seemed like they belonged to him and him alone, and that made him feel special, and wanted, and powerful.
But Sebastian's looks right through him now, and his lips are pressed on a thin, uncomfortable smile, and his voice is no longer that almost whisper that used to send shivers down Blaine's spine.
"The doors at Dalton are closed." Blaine repeats, trying to push away the ugly feeling that's forming in the pitch of his stomach "Something happened? Is there something wrong? They have never been closed before."
Sebastian takes a long drink from his beer and looks at Blaine in the eye for what seems like the first time since he arrived.
"You really did think that the doors would always be open, didn't you? You thought that you could leave them and wander of following a boy, and come back and give them hope and then leave again without looking back. God, Blaine, you're even more selfish than I thought."
And Blaine wants to answer, he really does, he wants to defend himself, because this is Sebastian and Sebastian has no right to call him selfish. Only he has, maybe, and Blaine has no words.
"I was persistent. When I see something I like I go after it until I get it, but Hunter's not like that, he gave you a chance and you rejected it, so that's it. The Warblers are tired of waiting for you, Blaine. Even I'm so tired, I don't find you all that attractive anymore." Green eyes sparkle with mischief, and he leans in slightly, like he's going to tell Blaine a secret "Just look at you, all mighty Blaine Anderson, red eyed and voiceless, so small and insignificant...who would want you now? You're Blaine Warbler no more."
You're Blaine Warbler no more.
Blaine knows that he's known this for a while, but hearing it out loud is a lot harder than he thought it would be. Sebastian's words have never affected him like this, and he shouldn't let them, because he made the right choice, he knows he did, he has no regrets, but Sebastian's looking at him like he's not even worth the try anymore, and the last time someone looked at him like that, Blaine had to run off and hide in a safe heaven called Dalton. And he can't run there anymore.
"Don't do this, Sebastian." He almost pleads "Don't turn them against me again."
Sebastian just laughs.
"Oh Blaine, the best part is that this time I didn't do anything. I really hope that your public school friends are worth it, because you lost the Warblers for good, and you did it all on your own."
Sebastian turns to leave, but spins around suddenly, and looks at Blaine with a hint of that old, adoring look, and gives him the saddest of smiles.
"I really did think that you and I could have been amazing."
And Blaine is left alone at the bar, and he feels the world come crashing down on him, and it's suddenly hard to breath, and the feeling of impotence and unworthiness and utter loneliness is so familiar that it scares the hell out of him.
But the doors have closed, and he has nowhere to run.