Kurt wasn't sure what was happening. The competition was over, the awards handed out, and the building was slowly clearing out. He had to admit, he was feeling a bit lonely. Yes the competition had ended in a tie, but he couldn't really celebrate because he was still torn between his two teams. When the announcer had said that it was a tie between The New Directions and The Warblers, his heart hadn't particularly leapt for joy at the latter. He hoped he had done a good job of hiding that fact, but, if the looks the council had thrown his way was anything to go bye, he hadn't succeeded. But then again, how could he hope to fake enthusiasm for a team whose members had told him that he needed to lose his individuality and conform, when the people who unreservedly accepted him (even if some of them didn't quite understand him) was literally a few feet away from him? There had even been an empty seat besides Mercedes – his seat – had he been there with them and maybe it was a good thing after all that the Council had soundly rejected him from auditions because he doubted that he could have finished a solo if he had spotted that little fact while singing.
He sighed, tugging the strap to his messenger bag closer to him. Stupid Dalton making him go all the way back to Westerville when they were one town over from Lima, he thought. Stupid rule, stupid uniform, stupid, stupid school. Yeah, Kurt had not been particularly enthusiastic about enrolling into the school in the first place. His parents' honeymoon money would barely cover tuition for the remainder of the year, and it rung hollow with him that his safety was going to put a financial burden upon them. There was also the fact that he and Finn had finally, finally, come to a sort of mutual understanding between them that he was certain the lack of time spent together would eradicate, and overall, he just missed having friends. No one understood him in Dalton. Even Blaine seemed to be a stranger to him now and he was tired. Tired of pretending to be fine. Tired of plastering a smile on his face when he wasn't happy. Tired of trying to keep up with a ridiculous course load. And he was tired of not being with his friends.
They were either on their way back to Ohio now, the bus filled with loud singing and boasts, or else still celebrating in their dressing room. He was standing just within the venue's bathroom after having washed his face, trying to re-fix that "I'm Okay" look back onto his face. He knew he didn't have much more time. Even now his absence was probably suspiciously long, and so, with a final sigh and a glance to himself, he forced himself to do what he always did. He squared his shoulders, put forward an attitude of perfection and strutted out. He knew when his new teammates were. In the centre of the building was a large circular space surrounded by benches. With most of the audience gone by now, it was the perfect place to wait for their own transportation's return.
He walked quickly, bypassing the occasional person. He had chosen the second floor bathroom for privacy reasons, but now, he realised, given the pathway he had to take to reach the ground floor's centre, he would be pretty visible coming down the steps. Even more reason to put on a confident demeanour, he thought, doing just so.
It was why it took him a moment to realise the excited voices he heard from below was actually a squeaked "There he is!", "It's Kurt!". By the time he did, there was music starting to waft from below, and he froze, looking over the bannister. His new team was there as expected, standing on the periphery of the circle of benches. Some were looking towards its centre, while others were looking up, at him. He barely noticed though, his eyes drawn to those in the centre. His friends were there - his true friends - no longer in their uniforms but rather in what he considered to be their regular apparel, even Rachel in one of those ridiculous sweaters she insisted upon wearing. And all of them were looking up at him. He arched a brow at them - mostly a gesture in keeping with his put together demeanour - and he saw Mercedes frantically gesture to Mr. Shuester who nodded and clicked a next track on the music player. The beginnings of a song he knew very well started, and instinctively, his eyes drifted to where Quinn stood, her eyes on him. They started singing, and he watched as Quinn raised her hand in invitation to him. He wasn't sure still exactly what was happening, but he walked forward at her unspoken request, quickly sourcing and descending the steps.
Somewhere between his leaving the bannister and reaching the bottom, the memory associated with the song hit him. This was the song they had sang soon after news of Quinn's pregnancy had gotten around the school. She had been his partner and he could recall the pure misery in her eyes as he had danced with her. He hadn't known what to say and so he had settled for just offering her a smile. She was the one smiling now as she reached him, and he was the one who felt his eyes burning. She took his hand and he released his hold on his messenger bag as he followed her, allowing her to deposit him on the outskirts of the circle. She rejoined the routine, Sam as her partner and he could only stand there, torn between love for them and what they were doing for them, and hurt, pure hurt that this was exactly all he could do, watch, no longer a part of them. He didn't realise when he first sniffled, but he did feel the hot trail of tears as they started to fall. The song was nearing the end of the bridge, and suddenly there was Quinn again in front of him, her eyes soft and caring as she her hand dropped to his chest, directly over his heart. His hand instantly clasped over her, his other circling her waist as they spun, eyes making contact despite the blurriness of his vision. Were they trying to kill him, he wondered as the song drifted to a close and she threw her arms around him.
"What is happening?" he managed to ask.
"We didn't get a chance to say goodbye," she answered, pulling back and reaching up to thumb away his tears. "This is for you Kurt," she finished, before prancing away to the rest of the group, falling into formation.
He was torn between laughing and crying for the next few minutes. Britney stole a kiss from him. Finn sauntered up to him and caused him to shriek by bodily lifting him into the air and spinning him, Kurt's hands forced to drop down onto his shoulders for fear of falling. As Finn spun them towards the circle, Kurt briefly caught sight of the Warblers and a few other people taking in the extra performance. He wasn't sure how this spectacle might be to them, but neither did he really care, for now his friends were dancing around him in a slowly closing circle, and, far from feeling suffocated, he felt loved and appreciated. An oversized teddy bear (seriously it was a bit more than half his height) was somehow in his hands as arms wrapped around his waist and suddenly he was back in the air, clinging to Snazzy (and yes he insta-named the cream stuffed animal) for dear life as he was plopped down onto Finn's and probably Puck's shoulders, laughter pouring in tandem with tears down his face. This was what he was missing, craving. The love, appreciation and unreserved acceptance of his friends. He was still torn between emotions when the music finally drifted close, alongside their voices, and as he was lowered, he buried his face into the first person in front of him.
"We've got you princess," was murmured in his ear, and he looked up into Puck's surprisingly compassionate face. But then again, he corrected, his former bully had become an ally the minute he had realised just how horrible Karofsky's bullying had become. "Are you okay? We weren't exactly trying to traumatise you."
"Sorry," he whispered, his voice shaky, before turning, looking at all of them, wiping at his face. "Thank you," he said, a bit louder. "You guys really didn't have to do this."
"It's a tradition," Mr. Shue said, from his position next to Tina. "When I was in the glee club, every year, just before graduation, the seniors would receive a goodbye performance. I had meant to reimplement it, but your...exit came first."
"I'm not sure I like this tradition," he admitted, causing laughs from the group as Rachel and Mercedes stole him from Puck's steady grip for a hug.
They took it as a joke, but Kurt was serious. He loved what they had done for him and the meaning behind it, truly he did. But how could they anticipate that it would make it all that much harder for him to walk away, to climb onto that Warbler bus and pointedly ignore everyone while cuddling Snazzy close. How could they know that it'd be his hardest night in the dorms yet, because all he would have would be his memories of them, the reminder of what was now lost to him, and Snazzy to absorb his tears?