He couldn't help but let the nerves take over as he switched off the ignition to his car. He'd dropped Kurt off at his dad's house, promising to pick him up the following afternoon for McKinley's Night of Neglect and to bring him back to Dalton afterwards. He was glad that his date hadn't returned with him, as it would only cause questions when he inevitably let on that his argument with Wes was more than he'd made it out to be. The truth was though, that he was shitting himself about returning to the dorm room, and if he thought that he could get away with it, he'd go down and sleep in the gym, or in the Warbler's common room, but he knew that without at least a blanket he'd be freezing. Not to mention that chinos weren't exactly the most comfortable of sleeping attire.

Unless…

He turned reached into the back seat and pulled out his bag, getting out of the car and locking it before tucking his keys away and heading up to the school doors. He checked that the coast was clear of his shadows before hurrying down the darkened corridor to the practice room. He pressed his ear to the door and only once he was satisfied that the space was empty; did he push open the doors and slip into the commons. He closed them back up behind him and clicked the lock into place before heading into the far corner of the room, and the adjoining office that was never used. He headed for the old cabinet against the back wall and started rifling through it for the rest of the supplies he'd stashed there, the previous year.

"Are you looking for these?" Asked a voice behind him; making him jump, and he spun around only to be hit in the face with a pair of joggers, a hoodie and a quilt. "Yeah, I found your stash." Wes said quietly, taking a couple of steps towards him. On instinct; he backed himself into the wall, keeping a hold on his clothes but allowing the quilt to drop to the floor. He pressed himself into the space where the cabinet met the wall, and tried to calm his breathing.

He was in deep shit. The things he'd said to his roommate, earlier that night were unforgivable, and even though his anger towards the other boy had not completely dissipated, he knew that he owed Wes an apology.

"I'm sor…"

"Don't you dare fucking apologise." Wes growled before seemingly biting down his anger. Blaine knew that he'd messed up, but for the older boy to not even hear him out… "Do you have any idea what you put me through when you pull shit like this?" The boy asked, frustration in his voice, and with every word his friend uttered it felt like a knife was being pushed into his side. "You have nothing to apologise for." Oh… Wait, what?

"But I…"

"You have no idea how happy I am to see that you're safe." Wes breathed out, moving closer to him. "I've been so worried that you'd have an accident, and it would be all my fault." Wait, was Wes crying? "I should never have said what I did to you. I understand that we have been smothering you, and god Devon you must have felt like you were suffocating, but I never meant to hurt you, and I never meant to call you stupid. I'm so, so sorry." God he was so confused. Why was Wes of all people sorry? He'd been the one to threaten a fight. Wes must have seen the confusion on his face because he was suddenly being wrapped into a hug by his still crying roommate, who'd looked like he'd aged five years in the past few hours.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, trying to understand what he'd done to make the other boy apologise to him. "I don't understand why you're not mad at me."

"Oh, I'm fucking furious." Wes replied, pulling back to hold onto his shoulders and make eye contact. "You ran off and got in a car when you were angry, and after what I said to you…"

"But I deserved it." Blaine replied with a frown. "You had every right to call me stupid. That's what I am most of the time, and right now I'm feeling so confused as to why you aren't mad about what I said to you."

"Oh Blaine." Wes breathed, pulling him back into a hug. The younger boy buried his head into Wes's collarbone and decided to try not to think on it too much. They were obviously in a better place than they had been all week, and right now he was going to enjoy that feeling. "Trent will go through all of this with you." Wes whispered after a while. "We know that you struggle with these things, and that isn't your fault. Trent can help you to understand. Right now, I just need you to promise me that you'll never get in a car angry again. Can you do that for me?" He felt Blaine nod against his neck and he tightened his hold on his friend. "And, I need you to promise, that no matter how much we fight, no matter how much trouble you think you'll be in, that you always come back to the dorm. It is your safe space Devon, and I don't want you sleeping down here anymore. Do you understand me?" Another nod and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Then can we go up to bed?" A third nod and Blaine finally pulled away.

"You aren't going to ask about Kurt?" A grimace overtook Wes's features but he swallowed down his discomfort and shook his head.

"Who you talk to is none of our business. Its none of my business." He said. "If you enjoy spending time with Hummel then that is your decision and I'm not going to stop you. But I don't want to know the details afterwards okay?"

"Okay."

"Then let's please go to bed."

"Do you understand why Wes was angry with you last night?" Trent asked as they sat down at their usual table in the library. There was no homework for them to go through today, as Trent had decided that their usual Saturday morning study date was instead going to be used to help him work out what had happened the night before.

"I got in my car angry." Blaine replied. "And he thought that if I'd had an accident that it would be his fault. I get that bit at least, David chewed me out when we got back up to the dorm. He was angry at me for making Wes worry so much."

"We were all worried D." Trent replied softly; no malice behind his words. "Wes told me that you were furious with him when you left, and that he'd made a big mistake by saying something really painful to you."

"He called me stupid." Blaine replied in a whisper. "He's never done that before."

"I want you to understand right now that I have spoken to him at length about this." Trent said, reaching out to take one of the younger boy's hands. "I can promise you that Wes didn't mean it. That none of us think that way about you, and none of us ever will. We all have lapses in judgement, and Wes had a huge one last night when he used that word. Please tell me that you understand this."

"But it was true, what he said." Blaine whispered. "You can't all be here when I do something stupid. I can't rely on you picking me up and piecing me back together all the time."

"Blaine, the only stupid thing, anyone did last night, was letting you drive in the state that you were in. You were angry, and upset, and if I know you at all, I know that you probably had a flashback at some point between leaving the dorm room and getting in your car. You cannot be blamed for your brain doing that to you, and I promise you that apart from having a lapse in judgement and getting behind the wheel, you did nothing wrong last night."

"Why wasn't Wes angry at me for what I said to him? I threatened him with the ring Trent. I threatened to fight him."

"Again, you were angry and probably feeling suffocated with how much we've been hovering over you this past week. We all care about you D, and sometimes we're going to get a little overprotective of you. But again, that is something for us to work out, not you. You tried to tell the guys on Tuesday night at the gym and we didn't listen to you as well as we should have."

"I don't want you guys to back off." Blaine replied, tears threatening to fill his eyes. "I just needed to breathe for a minute. And, I know that what Kurt said to me was wrong, and you guys spent all of last weekend helping me through it, but I still like spending time with him Trent. He laughs at my jokes, even though they're the lamest out of all of you guys. We talk about vogue and his friends, and he took me to that football game to see his step-brother play, even though he doesn't like football."

"I know you guys have things in common." Trent said kindly, trying to swallow down his own distaste for the situation. "And I agree that we could all have handled what went on with Kurt a little better." (Like not letting you anywhere near him in the first place.) He thought bitterly. "So, we'll back off for now and not get in your way if you want to start hanging out with him again. But I want you to promise me that if he ever makes you feel like you are less than perfect, that you are deserving of less than his full attention; you cut ties with him. I don't want to see you hurt again, none of us do. I will promise you in return, that we will still be here for you no matter what happens."

"I just felt so confused last night. I hate it. I hate that I can never tell whether you are mad at me, or making a joke. I hate feeling like I'm not in control, and last night I wasn't just not in control, I had no fucking clue what was even happening. I thought Wes was going to be so mad at me, and I didn't want to go back up our room, but he found me anyway and he was mad, but he was mad at something completely different that what he should have been mad at. I've promised him that I won't sleep in the commons any more, or that I won't drive when angry, but he wouldn't let me apologise for anything I said to him, and I'm so fucking confused."

"I know." Trent said softly, squeezing the younger boy's hand as he watched Blaine tear up in front of him. "I know that you had no idea what you were coming back to, and I know that it was the last thing you expected. But after what Wes told me, you had nothing to be sorry for. You only got mad when he got mad, and believe me D, you had every right to get mad for what he said to you."

"I had him against the bathroom door." Blaine whispered, glancing around to ensure that the librarian wasn't anywhere near them. "I had him up against the bathroom door with my arm on his throat, and for a split second I liked it. I felt powerful. That is what fucking terrifies me. That I had him dead to rights and he didn't even try to fight back. I could have snapped him like a twig and he never even tried." There was a lot to unpack in that confession but Trent had a feeling that Blaine's account of what had happened was much different to Wes's. One thing he did know, was that he had to talk Blaine down from whatever this was soon, or they could end up with a whole other host of problems on their hands.

"I have no doubt in my mind that you wouldn't have hurt him." He said confidently. "You might have, for a slight second, liked it, because to you it must have felt like you were taking back some of the control that you had lost. Was this before or after he called you stupid?"

"After, but it's no excuse. Is…" The younger boy trailed off and the tears started. "Is there something wrong with me?" Trent could have joined in, having a good cry at that question because Blaine looked so lost; and so, so small. He breathed out heavily and pulled the pair of them up and into the stacks; away from the prying eyes of Ms. Prince; folding Blaine into his arms, as soon as they were out of sight.

"There is nothing wrong with you D." He whispered; his chest heavy. "You have gone through something traumatic, something which would have destroyed any other person. Yes, we've been here for you, but it's you who has gotten himself here today. It is you who is still fighting the aftereffects of what happened. Your brain is going to do weird things to you sometimes, but that is not your fault, and it is nothing any of us are, or should be worrying about. You say you could have snapped him like a twig, but you didn't, because you are a kind, loving person who I know would never purposefully hurt someone." He rubbed the younger boy's back; feeling a stab in his chest every time his hand brushed over another raised scar, and he knew that he needed to get them both out soon if he wanted to avoid having to deal with the old bat that was in charge of the library.

"I'm so tired." Blaine admitted, almost inaudibly. "I just want it to stop."

"I know D." Trent whispered. "I know, and you have been so very strong. We're so proud of you."

"I just want to be normal." Trent pulled back at that to make eye contact with the younger boy, his chest clenching at each new admittance from him.

"We've been over this." He said soberly. "Normal is overrated, and even though you might miss social cues, or fail to get our jokes sometimes, you can see, hear and do things that none of us can. Your talent in music is beyond enviable, and the work that you've been turning into Knowles is beyond what is normal for someone of your year group. You are talented, and smart, and one of the bravest and kindest people I have ever met. It is an honour to be your friend Blaine. Normal or not."

"If I'm so smart then why am I still receiving catch-up packages when the rest of my year group doesn't need them? Why am I resitting a year when I should be looking forward to being a senior next year? Why do I feel stupid all the fucking time? I get into class and half the time I can't remember if the material being covered has been in my catch-up sessions or not and then I get worried that I'm starting to forget things more and more. It keeps happening and I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Nothing is wrong with you D." Trent replied sternly. Making a mental note to have a sit-down discussion with the rest of the guys about Blaine's grades. He couldn't keep them a secret for much longer if this was the consequence. "The stuff we've been covering in here is different to the stuff you'll be covering in class. We're using these sessions as practise sessions is all, like arranging one song in order to understand another. We couldn't be giving you the same stuff as they are in class because it would be giving you an unfair advantage. Your grades are more than fine, you're keeping a four-point five GPA, and I can promise you that stupid people don't do that. All we're doing is creating a stash of knowledge in your head that you can use in class."

"Oh." Trent blew out a breath of relief at that, more for the epic lie he'd managed to pull off that anything else. But Blaine looked happier now, and he knew that at least some of what he said had made it through.

Thad's words were going to haunt them all before long.

This was going to be a fucking train wreck.