Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Glee; it all belongs to 20th Century Fox, Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, et al. I write these stories purely for enjoyment; no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Note: I couldn't bear what happened to the Warblers in "Michael." Those weren't our Warblers, and I couldn't stand it. So this is my attempt at meta and redeeming my boys just a little bit.
This story is dedicated to More With Truffles and Zayrastriel, for the wonderful conversations that inspired it. As always, my deepest thanks to WickedForGood13 for the beta.
Taking the High Road
Kurt couldn't stop shaking.
All through the previous evening, as he had ridden with Blaine in the back of the ambulance, as he had frantically called the Andersons and his father, as he had paced the waiting room hoping for news, he had been able to ignore his physical self, consumed with thoughts of Blaine and what was happening to him. He hadn't even cried; the tension, fear, and anxiety he was feeling were too deep for tears.
It wasn't until the doctors had temporarily released an exhausted and drugged Blaine to his parents' care that Kurt had become painfully aware of his body. The Andersons had awkwardly allowed the boys to say goodbye, and as Kurt wrapped Blaine in his arms, whispering reassurances and promising to come visit him as soon as school was over the next day, he could suddenly feel the trembling in his arms and shoulders, feel the shaking in his hands as he caressed Blaine's hair, feel the frantic thumping of his heart.
With soft "I love you"s, the two boys went to their respective homes, and Kurt had stared up at his ceiling long into the night, reliving again and again the terrible moment when Blaine had fallen to the asphalt, clutching his face and screaming. The shaking hadn't stopped; it had continued until he slipped into an uneasy sleep, and he had used every ounce of willpower he had during school today to appear unaffected in the hallways. In class he could relax, to a point, but even then he had to force his fingers to hold his pen steadily and keep from hugging himself to control the trembling.
Kurt knew that most of his physical reaction was stemming from his emotions. He was terrified for Blaine, he was exhausted, he was furious at the Warblers, and as for Sebastian – towards Sebastian, he felt murderous.
He couldn't condone his own violent impulses, but he felt them.
Now, watching Blaine sleep peacefully after Rachel and Finn's departure, Kurt knew he had to enlist help. The New Directions would do anything they could to teach Sebastian and the Warblers a lesson (in fact, Kurt was fairly certain that Santana was already at Dalton doing precisely that), but the problem was fundamentally deeper. The Warblers in that parking garage had not been the loving, upstanding boys he knew. Sebastian had frightened and intimidated them badly, and Kurt had no idea how. He wasn't the one who was going to get the truth out of them, either.
Moving carefully, Kurt slipped his hand out of Blaine's and reached over to the nightstand, picking up Blaine's cell phone. He crept out into the hallway, shutting the door softly, and then scrolled through Blaine's contacts until he found the number he wanted, glancing at his watch as he hit "Send."
4:30. Perfect. It was only 1:30 in California. Kurt crossed his fingers as the phone on the other end began to ring.
"Blaine, are your morals slipping enough by going to public school that you're skipping class to talk to me? I'm appalled," said a teasing voice, and Kurt smiled sadly.
"Wes, it's Kurt," he said quietly.
There was a pause while Wes processed that, and when he spoke again he was all concern. "Kurt, why are you calling me on Blaine's phone?"
"I didn't have your number," Kurt said regretfully. "I took Blaine's phone because he's sleeping, at the moment, and I didn't know how else to reach you."
"Is Blaine sleeping or drugged?" Wes asked, his voice dropping dangerously.
"Both," Kurt answered, cringing as Wes cursed loudly.
"Blaine has a deeply scratched cornea and needs surgery, and they don't know – they don't know if all of his sight will come back in that eye," Kurt explained, trying to sound comforting as he delivered the awful news.
"Kurt, what happened? Who was it?" Wes demanded, and Kurt could tell he was channeling his anger into questions, immediately going into management mode.
"That's the worst part," Kurt said, both chagrined and relieved to finally feel tears in his eyes. "It was the Warblers."
"What?" Wes exclaimed in shock. "Kurt, that's not possible – they would never –"
"I know," Kurt whispered, struggling to speak through the tightness in his throat. "It was meant for me, Wes, I'm so sorry. I'm going to be apologizing to Blaine for the rest of my life, but he leapt in front of it before I could even –"
"Whoa, whoa, Kurt, slow down," Wes interrupted, trying to calm his friend. "One thing at a time."
"Right," Kurt said, swallowing. "Um, has anyone mentioned Sebastian Smythe to you?"
"Blaine did," Wes said immediately. "He doesn't like him at all, but he didn't know how to get rid of him without being downright rude. I didn't like the way Blaine sounded when we talked about it; Sebastian clearly makes him uncomfortable. Blaine is too nice for his own good," Wes added. "Was it Sebastian that hurt him?"
"Yes, although he didn't expect to hit Blaine," Kurt affirmed. "The New Directions had arranged a sing-off with the Warblers because both groups wanted to do Michael Jackson for Regionals. Sebastian brought a slushie that was partly rock salt, meant for me. He hates me, and the feeling is quite mutual, but I never thought he would do something like that in front of the two groups. When we were all singing and dancing, the Warblers handed off the slushie to one another until Sebastian took it right at the end of the number. He started to throw it at me, and Blaine saw it coming and dove in front of it, which meant it went fully into his face and eyes. Hence the cornea scratch. And the Warblers just let Sebastian do it. God, Wes, Blaine was on the ground screaming,and they just walked away."
Kurt could almost hear Wes's incredulity through the silence on the other end, and when he spoke his voice had become deadly quiet.
"Tell me every single time you have seen this Sebastian. Tell me anything you know about the Warblers since I have been gone, Kurt. Don't leave anything out; I don't know what's important yet."
So Kurt went back to the beginning. He told Wes about Blaine meeting Sebastian for the first time at Dalton, when he had gone to deliver tickets for West Side Story. He told him about Nick and Trent's joyous greetings and the former singing lead. He recounted Sebastian's flirting and blatant propositioning, some of which he had seen and heard about and some of which he only guessed at. He gave Wes a (slightly abbreviated) summary of their trip to Scandals and their subsequent fight. The phone calls. Sebastian's threats two days ago in the Lima Bean. Finally, the painful details of the garage sing-off, in which Blaine had taken a slushie clearly meant for Kurt and paid dearly for it, while his former teammates watched the entire incident and then left.
"I – Wes, I don't understand," Kurt finished, succumbing to his tears. "Blaine feels so betrayed. Luckily he hasn't been coherent enough to think about it much, but in the brief periods when he's completely lucid, I can see it in his face. When he really has the time and the mental power to process what happened, he's going to be devastated. You all were his family, Wes! Dalton was his home! I feel betrayed, and I was never really a Warbler, not like –"
"Yes, you were," Wes cut in emphatically. "You weren't one of us for long, Kurt, but you were a Warbler. Don't ever think otherwise. I don't know what's going on here, but I'm going to find out. Can you leave your phone on from now on? I'll probably need to call you again. Take my number from Blaine's phone and text me your cell phone number."
"Of course," Kurt nodded. "I'll do it right now."
"Good," Wes said. "I'll be in touch soon. Tell Blaine to get better and to let you take care of him."
Kurt managed a smile. "He doesn't really have a choice about that."
"I know," Wes said, and Kurt could hear the thankfulness in his voice.
Warblers' practice the second day after the sing-off was a tense affair. Santana's appearance at Dalton and her subsequent revelations about Blaine had left the older members of the group shaken, and even the younger ones seemed subdued. Sebastian was projecting his usual confident swagger, but he seemed to sense that something had shifted. When he wasn't singing, he was markedly less talkative, only throwing out the occasional snarky comment.
When the door to Warbler's Hall was unceremoniously banged open at half past four, it was enough to freeze everyone in the room. Their rehearsals were never interrupted, and given the edginess everyone was feeling, the interruption was just another indicator that something was very wrong.
A furious Asian man stood in the doorway, taking in the positions of each Warbler in the room.
"Wes," David breathed, his shoulders slumping in something that was suspiciously like relief.
"You, you, you, and you," Wes ordered without preamble, pointing at David, Nick, Jeff, and Trent in turn. "Here. Now."
The former two stood from their positions at the council table without question, and the latter two moved from the formation of singers behind Sebastian. The four of them filed out, still silent, creating a small knot behind Wes. Not one of the younger Warblers said a word; they were too shocked at seeing several of their senior members taking orders to voice any objections.
Sebastian, however, had no compunction about speaking.
"Look," he said hotly, "I don't know who you think you are, but you can't just barge in here, disrupt our practice, and summon our singers like sheep."
"Oh, yes, I can," Wes said, striding forward to stand in front of Sebastian. The expression on his face was predatory, and despite the substantial difference in their heights, Sebastian found himself taking a step back. "Wes Montgomery, former Head Warbler. You'll find that most of the singers in this room know very well who I am."
He moved away from Sebastian long enough to address the group as a whole. "Warblers' practice is over for the day, with permission of the headmaster. Unless any of you would like to personally experience my displeasure, I suggest you leave."
The boys moved, packing bags and exiting with almost no noise. When the last of them had departed, leaving only the group by the door, Wes turned back to Sebastian.
"Wes Montgomery, huh?" Sebastian said with a smirk. "The one with the gavel?"
Wes ignore the jibe, taking hold of Sebastian's blazer and moving him bodily into one of the massive support beams for the windows at the side of the room. Taken by surprise, Sebastian only made a small sound of protest before the breath was knocked out of him by the post at his back.
"You listen to me, you reprehensible excuse for a human being," Wes snarled, his face only inches from Sebastian's. "You injured, perhaps irreparably, my best friend in the world. You attempted to injure his boyfriend, the first person to make him truly happy in heaven knows how long. I don't know what you've said or done to the Warblers to make them fear you, but I promise you I will find out. And trust me when I tell you that being expelled from Dalton and charged with assault will be a heavy blow to your father's reelection campaign. Somehow I don't think that would make him happy."
Wes gave Sebastian another shove, ramming him into the pillar one last time before releasing him. "If you ever touch my friends again, Smythe, you will regret it."
Sebastian glared, straightening his crumpled shirt and blazer, but Wes could see the fear lurking behind the defiance in his eyes. "They're even more pathetic than I thought, if they need you to protect them," he spat.
Wes smiled an absolutely humorless smile. "I can't speak for Kurt, but if you were ever stupid enough to try and fight Blaine, you would learn the hard way how untrue that is. They don't need me to do anything. They've dealt with selfish, scared bullies like you their entire lives, and they are both compassionate people who take the high road. I protect them because I choose to – and I don't always share their scruples."
The warning was clear, and Wes walked to the door without another word, where his friends were staring with wide eyes. He spoke to David and Nick without slowing his pace. "Your room. Let's go."
Once the five of them had found sanctuary in David and Nick's room, the four current Warblers found seats on the beds and at the desks while Wes closed and locked the door. He remained standing, studying each of them in turn. They all seemed tired, defeated, as though they didn't know how to fix the mess they were in and weren't sure how they had gotten into it in the first place. None of them could look at Wes, thought they stole guilty glances at each other.
"I'll wait," Wes finally said into the silence, his voice stern. "I just took a 7 a.m. flight from California, and it's earlier in the day for my body than it is for yours. We can stay here all night, but you are going to tell me what possessed you to be complicit in this. How could you help that vermin hurt Kurt and Blaine? How did he even become a Warbler to begin with?"
Still silence.
Wes sighed, running his hands through his hair. "David," he appealed to his friend, his voice softening, David glanced up, reluctantly, and Wes ached inside when he saw the misery on David's face. "You have always been my closest friend, since we both became students here. Why didn't I know about this? About what Smythe was doing? Tell me what happened."
"He – it –" David cleared his throat, trying to get the roughness out of his voice. "It wasn't supposed to be Blaine, Wes. It wasn't supposed to happen like that."
"Yes, I know," Wes said flatly. "The slushie was meant for Kurt. How does that make any of this better? Kurt was a Warbler, too, not to mention that he is Blaine's boyfriend. You had to know that Blaine would follow his idiotically noble instincts."
"We didn't, actually," Jeff muttered, and Wes glared at him.
"You should have," he said sharply.
David's eyebrows had gone up in surprise as Wes revealed just how much information he had, but comprehension swept his features a moment later. His eyes met Wes's, and Wes inclined his head minutely; David understood that he had talked to Kurt.
"It was the lesser of two evils," David whispered. "It was only going to be a slushie. Kurt has taken those before; all the New Directions have. We didn't like it, but we knew he could handle it. Kurt is tough; he's not going to be intimidated by anything Sebastian does."
"We didn't know that Sebastian had mixed rock salt into it," Nick said, speaking up for the first time. "We had no idea – though I suppose we should be expecting his tactics by now," he conceded bitterly.
Wes closed his eyes momentarily, storing up questions in his mind, before turning back to David. "If the slushie was the lesser of two evils, what was the greater of the two?"
"It was Blaine we were trying to protect in the first place," David confessed, hos voice still low. "Sebastian said that if we didn't agree to the slushie, he would go after Blaine – really go after him," he emphasized. "His exact words were, 'I'll go rough up your precious Blaine Warbler until he can't compete at Regionals.'"
David had tears in his eyes now, his tone entreating Wes to understand. "Wes, you know what happened to him! We couldn't let anyone do that to him, not again. I know he can defend himself now – we both know how capable he is of that – but I'm not sure he could bear it, and I'm not sure Kurt could either. It took so much for you and I to help him when he first came here, and if he had to go through it again –" David broke off, shaking his head and pressing his lips together tightly.
Seeing that David was momentarily incapable of speaking, Nick took up the thread. "The minute Sebastian steps off of school grounds, it becomes much harder for the headmaster to do anything to him. Blaine isn't a student here anymore, and if Sebastian went to McKinley and beat him up, Blaine would have to come here to accuse him. The headmaster could still expel Sebastian for misconduct, but making that happen gets a lot more complicated. Sebastian is an incredible liar, Wes, and if he was careful enough and no one saw him hurt Blaine, it would be nothing but Blaine's word against his. We didn't want to give him the chance to make good on his threat. We hoped that he would use the slushie on Kurt and be done with it, and at least we would be there to prevent anything worse."
"What if he had decided to go after Blaine anyway?" Wes asked, questioning Jeff this time. "What if he had simply lied to you about his little 'deal' and still tried to incapacitate Blaine in some way? He's certainly done a good job of it now, even if it wasn't his intention."
"It was the wrong decision," Jeff admitted. "We should never have agreed, but we were trying, Wes. We were trying to protect Blaine. Sebastian makes everyone uneasy at the best of times, and at his worst he is downright frightening. He's not stable."
"When he first joined the Warblers, he seemed nice enough, and he's a good singer," Trent chimed in. "He's more than a little arrogant, but that's nothing we haven't seen before. The Warblers usually manage to mellow out anyone who comes in with delusions of grandeur. You were really good at that," Trent added, cracking a small smile at Wes. "But then he started trying to beat out people for solos, arguing with the council, and cozying up to the underclassmen. They're fascinated by him, even though half the things he says about himself probably aren't true, and he's smart enough to cultivate their loyalty. It was when he decided to come after us that everything got really out of control."
Here Trent paused, and sent a nervous glance toward Nick and Jeff. Jeff had his hands clenched into fists in his lap, and Nick had a tense hand on Jeff's forearm, a gesture that seemed partially meant for reassurance, but also it appeared as though Nick was forcibly keeping himself from clinging to Jeff. Wes took in their posture and his eyes narrowed.
"What did he do?" Wes asked carefully, keeping his voice soft. His friend both seemed ready to either bolt away or completely close down, and Wes didn't want to provoke either reaction.
Jeff opened his mouth, but then closed it again, making a helpless motion with his shoulders, and Nick had to speak for both of them. "Let's just say that Blaine isn't the only one Sebastian has propositioned," Nick said tightly. "He's made . . . highly suggestive comments and offers to both of us on multiple occasions. I don't think he would get violent about it, but boundaries and committed partnerships mean absolutely nothing to him. We've both told him to back off, in strong terms, and he just won't. He has complete tunnel vision when it comes to getting what he wants. Sexual conquest seems to be one of those things. I can only imagine what he's said to Blaine. I'm almost relieved that Sebastian hates Kurt, as terrible as that is to say. At least there, Kurt will be on his guard – and as long as the insults are verbal, you know he can give as good as he gets," Nick ended wryly.
"I have a feeling our countertenor has some hidden talents in terms of self-defense," Wes said reflectively. "If not, Blaine will make sure he acquires some, especially after this."
"Sebastian has insulted Trent and me, too," David said furiously, his anger at the bully coming to the surface. "He's a bigot, Wes, plain and simple. Anyone who doesn't fit into his privileged little world might as well be dirt on his shoes, and he lets them know it."
Wes finally sat, nudging over Nick and Jeff until he could sit next to them. "Guys," he said forcefully, "you have to report all of this. I know Sebastian is intimidating and volatile, and he's obviously relentless, but Dalton has a no-tolerance bullying policy for a reason. Headmaster Davis is going to take all of these things seriously if you tell him, but you have to tell him. He's already angry; when I showed up and told him the basics of what had happened to Blaine, he was horrified. Off school grounds or not, Sebastian is still a Dalton student, and if he behaves badly, it reflects badly on the institution. Davis may not be able to do everything he wants to, but if he has all the facts at his disposal, he will do something. You can't let Sebastian get away with all of this. Blaine could easily press charges against him, but I don't know if he will."
"Why wouldn't he?" Trent said incredulously. "Sebastian might have blinded him!"
Wes sighed again, then shrugged. "This is Blaine we're talking about," he said. "If all of this has made him angry enough, he'll press charges. But if everything turns out fine, he's going to hate the idea of Sebastian's expulsion, of going to court, of Sebastian not being at Regionals. Kurt won't like it, either."
"Blaine wouldn't be fighting violence with violence, though, Wes," Nick said, aghast. "He would actually be getting help from the system that is supposed to help him! How often has that happened in his life? He has a chance here to actually say this isn't right and do something about it!"
"He does," Wes acknowledged. "He also likes to find the best in people. He's going to hope that Sebastian can be different, that he'll choose to be different."
"Not likely," David growled.
"That's not up to us," Wes said. "That's up to Blaine. What is up to us is how we handle it here at Dalton."
"We'll tell Headmaster Davis," Trent said instantly, and the other boys nodded their agreement. "This can't keep happening."
"If you think that part of what Blaine and Kurt are going to want is a fair chance to beat us at Regionals, then Sebastian stays in the Wablers unless Davis says he's out," Nick said. "I don't like it, but he can stay, as long as the rest of the Council agrees. Sebastian started this unfriendly competition, so he can be there to finish it. He doesn't get to sabotage us and the New Directions and then walk away."
"I agree," David said promptly. "That's two-thirds of the council down."
"Good," Wes said approvingly. "I'm sure Cameron will consent once he knows what you're all thinking. Sebastian hasn't taken over this group yet, not entirely. Between Davis and the Council, you should be able to keep Sebastian in line. Now that we've agreed on that, we need to talk about the other problem here."
"Other problem?" Trent asked in confusion.
Jeff answered for the other three in the room. "We left," he said bleakly.
"You left," Wes repeated for emphasis, his voice becoming harsh again.
Trent surveyed the other boys. "We shouldn't have left," he said slowly, "and I know that, and I feel horrible about it. I've always liked Blaine, and he's always been kind to me. We should have stayed and made sure he got help, and hang Sebastian and the other Warblers. That's not what's going on here, though, is it?"
"No," David said wearily. "After the Sadie Hawkins dance – you know about that?" he asked, pausing, and Trent nodded.
"Not everything," he said cautiously, "but some. I know that Blaine told you all more than he ever told the rest of us."
"The boys who beat Blaine and his friend just left them on the ground," David said bluntly. "Just left them for someone to find. Luckily his friend's father showed up shortly after it happened and called an ambulance. They both ended up in the hospital. Blaine had cracked ribs, a broken clavicle, too many bruises to count, and he was out cold; I don't know about the other boy. From what I understand, Blaine's mother insisted on the transfer to Dalton, and his father simply signed and paid for everything, all without having so much as a single conversation with Blaine. Blaine's never been close to his father since, and his mother is basically caught between the two of them. For all intents and purposes, they gave Blaine to the care of Dalton and the Warblers."
Trent's brow was furrowed as he tried to take in what David was telling him, his concentration plain. "So not only did he get abandoned on the pavement by the guys who beat the crap out of him, but his parents disappeared as well."
"That's about it," Jeff said grimly, his green eyes full of sorrow and empathy. "You didn't know him when he first came here, Trent, but he was completely withdrawn. If it hadn't been for those two," he said, nodding toward Wes and David, "he might have stayed that way."
"He was unfailingly polite," Wes said, and David grinned at the description in spite of himself, "but it was like he had no personality at all. We couldn't get anything out of him. He was terrified to let anyone in. It took us more than a week to actually get him to laugh – and we were trying every trick we knew," he said fondly, thinking of the friendship that had evolved out of that first week of coaxing and cajoling. "We were a more than a little horrified at the state he was in; he just seemed so broken. David and I bugged the life out of him until he started to like us and accept that we wanted to be his friends. When we caught him playing the guitar and singing in his room one day, we tried to talk him into joining the Warblers, but it took us until just before Christmas break to get him to audition."
"Once he did, it was like seeing an entirely different person," David said softly. "He was really nervous, but he was amazing when he was performing, and we knew he would just get better. Wes and I told some of the other Warblers the basics of what had happened to him – not that he was gay; we would never have done that," he amended hastily, "but how he had been bullied and hurt. Jeff, Nick, Cameron, and Thad especially were good to him after that, and he – we really became his family," David finished, almost inaudibly.
"Wow," Trent breathed, blanching as realization hit him. "So now he thinks we –"
"Yes," Nick said in frustration, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. "Damn it, yes. All because of that snake downstairs. I didn't want to walk away when Blaine was hurt; I didn't want to leave him there. I just felt so shocked and so ashamed by what had happened. We were trying to protect him, and he ended up getting hurt anyway, and suddenly instead of being his family we were his enemies. I hated the way that felt. He has the New Directions and he has Kurt and he's brilliant with them. Why does he need us?" he asked rhetorically, surprising even himself with the amount of hurt in his voice.
Wes considered him for a moment before putting an arm around Nick's shoulders. "You were trying to help him, and he needs that. More than you know, more than he knows most of the time," he said gently. "It may have turned out badly, it may have been the wrong decision, but you were trying to help him. I know that it hurt you – all of you – that he left Dalton, but it was never about choosing Kurt over us. Blaine needed to go to McKinley for himself. He needed to prove to himself that he's strong enough: strong enough to be there for Kurt, strong enough to stand up to every Karofsky and Sebastian in the world. You know he's always regretted running from his old bullies."
David scoffed, derision warring with exasperated affection as he spoke. "He's an idiot. Self-preservation is not cowardice, not 'running.' It took more strength than I can imagine to start over again when he came here, following his heart and showing his real self to the world. He's always been strong enough."
Wes met David's eyes again. "You know that, and I know that, but we can't convince him of that. He has to convince himself."
"Kurt gives him strength, too," Jeff said unexpectedly. "They give strength to each other. I know how that feels," he said, smiling warmly at Nick, who squeezed his hand in gratitude. The smile quickly faded into a frown, though, as Jeff articulated his next thought. "We owe both Blaine and Kurt an apology and an explanation. Kurt was part of this group as well, and we never should have let Sebastian target either of them. It's not going to be easy to get them to forgive us."
"It won't be easy," Wes agreed solemnly. "You're right. All you can do is apologize and explain, and after that, you have to show Blaine and Kurt that their friendship is important enough to fight for."
"We will," David said determinedly. "I'm not sure how yet, but we will."
Kurt's voice broke into the quiet cloud of sleep surrounding him.
"Blaine."
Kurt really did have the most beautiful voice in the world.
"Blaine, sweetie, wake up."
There was a soft touch on his shoulder, and Blaine rolled over, opening his one eye that was not bandaged and covered and blinking groggily until Kurt's blue eyes came into focus.
"Hey, sleepyhead," Kurt smiled, brushing gentle fingers through Blaine's hair. "Someone's here to see you. Do you feel up to having a visitor?"
"Sure," Blaine said, struggling to sit up. Kurt helped him adjust his pillows and retie his robe, and then kissed him long and sweetly before pulling back. "Who is it?"
"Ah, ah, ah, that would be telling," Kurt said, grinning and waving a finger at him. "Give me just a minute."
Kurt disappeared out the door, leaving Blaine to wonder who had come to see him. He reached over to the nightstand and carefully retrieved his glass of water, relishing the cool liquid as it slid down his throat. He replaced the glass just as he heard steps in the hallway.
He had never been more surprised in his life than when Wes appeared.
"Wes!" he exclaimed, feeling his first genuine smile in three days break over his face. "What are you doing here? How on earth did you get here?"
"Well, a little birdie told me about your aspirations to become a pirate, and I decided to use some of my many frequent flyer miles to come see for myself," Wes joked as he walked into the room and around the bed. "Way to rock the eyepatch," he chuckled as he sat down and wrapped Blaine into a hug.
"I'm so glad to see you," Blaine said, burying his face in Wes's shoulder and clinging to the fabric of his gray suit.
"I'm glad to see you, too – though I wish it hadn't been because of this," Wes answered, tightening his arms.
"So do I," Blaine said, his voice breaking a little.
Blaine missed the concerned but silent exchange Wes shared with Kurt over his shoulder; he was overwhelmed by the feeling that he was suddenly fourteen again, much more the terrified boy he had been than the person he had become over the last three and a half years. Wes had helped him then and would surely help him now.
Wes held Blaine wordlessly for several minutes, and Blaine mentally acknowledged that he desperately needed the comfort. Otherwise, he would have been objecting much more vociferously to the fact that Wes was there at all.
Blaine finally let go first, and as he did so, he gave Wes a halfhearted, affectionate shove on the shoulder. "You overprotective idiot. You didn't have to come out here for me. I'm fine."
Wes raised an eyebrow, and Blaine read his thoughts clearly. There are the objections I was expecting. And sure, you are. Tell me another one.
"I did myself the great favor of going to school in California while my parents live in Chicago," Wes said aloud, keeping his tone light. "The miles on those flights alone give me the ability to come see a friend every now and then, Warbler Blaine. As it happened, this time I wanted to see you."
Blaine shook his head, but he was smiling. "Just coincidentally," he said sarcastically. "Especially after my own little birdie called you," he said, glancing at Kurt. Kurt stared right back at him, unperturbed and raising his chin a little in defiance. Blaine suddenly realized that when Kurt hadn't been attempting to cheer him up, he had been feeling both guilty and fearful; he had been eating himself alive over the fact that Blaine had done this for him, been injured for him. He was terrified Blaine would come out of this with yet more scars, both physical and unseen. Blaine's heart smote him; Kurt had called Wes because he couldn't bear seeing Blaine so upset and feeling so helpless, and Blaine was practically reprimanding him for it.
"Blaine, you are not 'fine,' and neither you nor I are going to be able to fix what's wrong here," Kurt said, a little sharply. "I didn't ask Wes to come, but I was hoping he would help us deal with the Warblers, since I can't even begin to understand what's happening in their heads. When he called me back and told me he was flying out here, I wasn't about to stop him. You need your friends right now."
Blaine sighed, his body slumping and his eyes darkening as he ran his hands through his hair, careful not to touch his bandaged eye. "Well, apparently I have fewer of those than I thought," he said tiredly, pained resignation seeping into his voice. "Thank you," he added quietly, reaching for Kurt's hand and giving it a squeeze. "Thank you, too, Wes," he said, turning to his old friend. "You didn't have to, but – I'm grateful you did."
"Of course I had to. What else are friends for?" Wes answered. "And you're wrong about the Warblers – well, those of them that you knew, at least," he amended. Both Blaine and Kurt regarded him with surprise.
"I paid a little visit to Dalton before I came to see you," Wes explained.
Kurt didn't seem surprised, although perhaps a little worried, and Blaine wondered how much he had talked to Wes in the last twenty four hours. Blaine was apprehensive, though, knowing how Wes could be when he was riled up. "Wes. What did you do?" he demanded.
"Oh, I had a short conversation with Headmaster Davis, for starters," Wes said with a self-satisfied smile. "I explained what Sebastian had done to you, and Davis agreed that he needs to be watched closely. He is also going to have a nice little chat with Sebastian and make it clear that there will be extreme consequences if there are any more reports of him assaulting or attempting to injure anyone inside or outside of Dalton."
"I can't believe it," Blaine murmured. He was so grateful that Wes was here and concerned about what had happened to him, but he had somehow never expected this. After watching (or rather, hearing) all of his other Dalton friends walk away from him, through the haze of red slushie and burning pain, Blaine had never felt so betrayed or desolate. His friends had suddenly become unrecognizable; the school that had been his home had become just another place that was closed to him. During the past three days, the few emotions that had worked their way through the haze of painkillers had been so painful that he had done everything he could to shut them out. To have Wes here, solid and comforting and still the friend he had known, soothed the ache in his heart, and to hear that he had gone to their old headmaster for help was almost too much.
"You should," Wes said frankly. "Davis always liked you, Blaine, and you were a Dalton student for three years. He knows what you went through before you transferred to Dalton, and I don't get the impression that he likes Smythe very much. I'm not sure that anyone could," he said with a grimace.
"Did you talk to him?" Kurt asked, and Blaine could see the worry in his face now, the anxiety crinkling the corners of his eyes and tightening his lips.
Wes smiled coldly. "You might say that."
"Wes, tell me you didn't," Blaine implored him, dread pooling in his stomach. "It's only going to make things worse, you know that, and it could make trouble for you. Sebastian could make trouble for you."
"Oh, I didn't actually hurt him," Wes said calmly, his tone belying the tense set of his shoulders. "But I made it very clear to him that I could and would, if he didn't leave the two of you alone. I reminded him that he could get expelled and charged with assault, and that neither of those things would sit very well with his father when the state's attorney wants to run for reelection. Smythe needs to know that there are some people who aren't afraid of him or his family name. He's a terrified coward, underneath it all."
"I had a feeling," Kurt said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This isn't right, Wes. I hate Sebastian, and I hate him even more now for what he's done to Blaine and what he tried to do to me, but fighting him isn't going to fix anything. You can't solve bullying with more bullying."
"You can solve assault by pressing charges," Wes said candidly, and Blaine winced. He and Kurt had talked about this briefly in the last couple of days, and while they agreed that a formal charge would almost certainly be successful, and it would remove Sebastian's threats and harassment from their lives, neither were sure it was the best course of action.
"I know," Blaine said softly. "I haven't decided about that yet. Sebastian's not a nice person, but he needs help, Wes, not prison."
Wes snorted. "He wouldn't get prison, Blaine. He probably wouldn't get anything, given who his father is, but being in court might make him think twice about trying to hurt you again."
"He was trying to hurt Kurt, not me," Blaine said in confusion. "Wasn't he?" He was working very hard to interpret the expression on Wes's face, but whether it was the effects of the medication he was on or the emotional aftereffects of what he had been through, he couldn't manage to do it. Sebastian had been trying to hurt him? But how could he have known . . . ?
Kurt made the connection first, and his blue eyes went wide. "He wanted to hurt Blaine, and the Warblers wouldn't let him," he breathed. "Is that what you meant about the Warblers, Wes? They were trying to keep him from hurting Blaine?"
"Yes," Wes nodded, trying to gauge how his friends were going to react to the news. "They went about it the wrong way, but they were trying to protect you, Blaine. I dragged David, Nick, Jeff, and Trent upstairs and made them explain. Sebastian has been threatening and intimidating them in multiple ways since he joined the Warblers, and he's fractured the group pretty badly. He has the loyalty of some of the younger members, and he makes the lives of the upperclassmen miserable. He demanded to slushie Kurt at the sing-off, and if the Warblers didn't agree, he threatened to beat you up until you couldn't compete at Regionals."
Kurt gasped. "No," he choked, and Blaine automatically reached for him, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist as Kurt wound his arms around Blaine and tucked his head into Blaine's shoulder. Blaine stroked Kurt's hair, and he could feel Kurt's tears falling on his pajamas.
"I'm here, Kurt, I'm fine," he said soothingly.
Kurt stiffened and then pulled away, and Blaine stared in shock as his boyfriend stood and glared at him, fists clenched. Wes was also regarding Kurt with surprise; Blaine wasn't sure that his friend had ever seen Kurt truly angry.
"You are not 'fine,' Blaine!" Kurt snapped, the composed stubbornness from earlier now completely replaced with fury. "Please stop trying to tell me that you are! That insufferable prig could have left you blind in one eye, and I know that frightens you! It frightens me, and I have to live with the fact that you dove in front of that slushie in the first place to keep me from being hurt! I love you for it, but I'm so scared for you – and I hate that we have to live with things like this, with this kind of hatred – and I wish it had been me! You have been through enough!"
Kurt swiped at his cheeks furiously as tears fell down his face, and Blaine felt his heart constrict. He reached out for Kurt and grabbed his wrists, forcibly tugging him back down, but Kurt wouldn't meet his gaze, staring at his hands as if ashamed of his outburst. "Kurt," he said urgently, framing Kurt's face with his hands and tenderly wiping away more tears. "Kurt, please look at me," he pleaded, and Kurt reluctantly lifted his eyes to Blaine, anger, pain, and regret still swirling in his face.
"I am afraid," Blaine admitted. It was the first time he'd said it out loud, and he felt the tremor that went through Kurt at his admission. "I am afraid that my eye won't heal, that there will be damage - but I would do the same thing again. I don't regret it. I love you, and I am not going to stand by and willingly let someone hurt you, not ever. You have been through just as much as I have, and you don't deserve this kind of injury any more than I do. You wish it had been you – and I'm just grateful that it wasn't, this time."
"I love you," Kurt whispered, leaning into one of Blaine's hands and then the other, kissing his palms. "I love you so much. I'm sorry I yelled; I shouldn't have. I'm so sorry for all of this."
"And none of it is your fault," Blaine emphasized, leaning in to kiss Kurt on the lips. "I love you, too, and you have a right to yell and be angry about this. We both do. I know that, had Sebastian tried to throw that slushie at me, you would have done exactly what I did without a moment's thought. Had he come to McKinley and tried to hurt me, you would have fought him yourself rather than let him touch me – not that I would have wanted you to, but I know you would have, given the choice. No matter what Sebastian does, Kurt, he can't touch us or what we have," Blaine smiled. "Not unless we let him. A very wise person taught me that."
Kurt smiled, his lips still trembling, and he moved so that he could embrace Blaine. The two of them sat in silence for several minutes, comforting each other, while Wes observed them thoughtfully.
"Taking the high road, as always," he said admiringly. "I told the Warblers you would. I told Sebastian you would, come to think of it."
His two friends pulled apart and turned to him. "If we don't, we're no better than he is," Blaine said seriously.
"Santana and I have a plan," Kurt told Wes, a mischievous smirk on his face. "I think it will let us send Sebastian a message and – hopefully – mend bridges with the Warblers."
"I'm not sure I'm ready to forgive them for using you as a sacrificial lamb," Blaine said to him, "but I'm glad to know that their hearts were in the right place. I wouldn't have known that if it wasn't for you," he said to Wes, giving him a grateful smile. "Thank you. I don't want to lose another family."
Wes hid the inner pang he felt at Blaine's words, one of the rare open acknowledgements of how absent the elder Andersons were in their son's life. "I would never let that happen, and they won't either," Wes promised him. "I don't think they expect either of you to forgive them right away, but they'll do everything they can to make it up to you."
"I think I can live with that," Blaine said, leaning his head back against the headboard with a tired sigh. His eye was beginning to pain him again; it was amazing how exhausted he was simply from the constant ache and continuous medication.
Kurt spoke up then, and Blaine cracked his good eye open at the playfulness in Kurt's tone. "Does this mean I can still call you Blaine Warbler?" he asked cheekily, and both Blaine and Wes grinned.
"I wouldn't have it any other way," Blaine assured him.