"So Blaine," his dad said at dinner that night. There had been a brief conversation at family therapy a few weeks ago where he'd asked the therapist to bring up his name. He'd said that he was more comfortable with it now, and if they wanted to start calling him Blaine again sparingly, he'd be okay with that. It had taken another three days before either parent broke and said it and they looked so worried that he would shatter when they did. Now he suspected that they shared a calendar where they tracked who got to call him Blaine each day. "We were wondering if you might like to go back to California for spring break. We could see Cooper in LA and go up to Sacramento to spend time with Sydney."

"Really?" he said, eyes lighting up. "Yes, definitely!"

"Your spring break actually lines up with the permanency hearing that Laura was talking about at the last home visit," his mom said slowly. "We thought we could attend the hearing in person, just so we're there and together when it's finally official."

Oh. Ulterior motives. He wasn't sure how to respond. He'd talked with Matt about his complicated feelings about the legal process with the various social service agencies, and they'd come to a place of understanding. But he still liked the idea of being a step removed from it all, so he could bury his head under the sand and pretend it wasn't still going on.

"I, uh, I guess so," he said. He took a deep breath and tried to feel brave. "You don't feel like it's already official?"

He was looking resolutely down at his lap, so he missed the exchanged looks between his parents.

"What do you mean, honey?" Pam asked.

"Just... I kinda felt like we're already a family and stuff. Do we need someone else to tell us that?"

The words were barely out of his mouth and Pam had already stood up and moved to his side of the table, gently embracing him.

"Of course we're a family. We always have been. Nothing they can say can change the fact that you are our beautiful son."

He smiled.

"We thought that you might appreciate this, as a sort of bookend on everything that's happened in the last nine months," his dad added. "But we can skip the hearing if it makes you uncomfortable."

"No," he said. "You guys want to be there and I... I want it for you."

The next morning, he found himself seeking out Sebastian. It was still so strange to him that this was his initial reaction. A month ago, Sebastian had been nothing more than an annoying flirt. But now, now that they'd kissed and decided that they wanted different things, Sebastian was his closest friend.

Sure, Sebastian was still the same flirty, crude boy he had always been. But now that Blaine knew him better, now that both had opened up to the other, he could see through the comments. He could see the real heart behind Sebastian's words, even when people like Jeff doubted that there was anything to Sebastian other than a smirk and some hair gel.

Plus, Sebastian had his own family issues, a father who was almost definitely cheating on his mother, unhappily married parents who were stubbornly avoiding divorce. It might not be that similar to what he was going through, but they could both empathize with the other's struggles.

So Sebastian was the friend he spoke to about his worries about going to family court.

"It must sound so stupid," he finally said. "I mean, they're my real parents. But now that I feel so comfortable here, I'm just terrified that the judge or someone is going to try to take them away from me," he admitted. "Being ripped apart from the only family I know, again… it's …" he trailed off, unable to find the words.

"I know," Sebastian said simply. "But no one can look at your family and think that it would be better for any of you to be apart. And you said the social workers said the hearing is basically a formality, right?"

"I know," he repeated. "I just can't help but worry after everything."

"Someday, you are going to look back on this moment and you will want to kick your fine ass for being such a melodramatic pessimist," Sebastian said simply.

Blaine had to laugh at that, there was no way he could keep a straight face. Sebastian smirked, glad he'd accomplished his goal, and slung an arm over his shoulders, gently guiding them both down the hall and towards the common room to meet up with their friends.

Just before classes let out for spring break, he was called to the Dean's office. A senior who worked as an office aide came into his pre-calculus classroom with a note for the teacher who sent him down the grand marble staircase to the administration wing.

He hadn't been back in the Dean's office since his parents had brought him to register for classes, though he had paid a few trips to the main office, most notably to pick up his cell phone when Mr. Hoffman had confiscated it on the first day of classes.

As he approached the office, he noticed that there were already several other figures in the room. The Dean, obviously, was present, but he was also joined by the school counselor, a woman he'd never seen before, and Mr. Hoffman. His nerves were put slightly at ease seeing his teacher in the room.

"Hello, Blaine, I hope you're doing well," the Dean said. "Looking forward to spring break?"

"Yeah," he said. Not wanting to seem rude, he added, "We're going to California."

"That should be fun. Will you be seeing some of your old classmates?"

He nodded. Luckily, it seemed like no verbal response was required and the Dean quickly pivoted to the point of the meeting.

"As I'm sure you've heard from your parents, when Cooper was a student here, we started an annual fundraiser named in your honor. We hold it at the end of each April, and there is an entire committee that spends all year planning the activities, headed by Mrs. Santiago here. However, now that you have returned to your family and joined us here at Dalton, we wanted to check in with you to see how comfortable you are with the prospect of this event."

"Um," he said, not quite sure what was expected from him.

"I know from Cooper that you don't necessarily want any additional attention drawn to you," Mr. Hoffman added helpfully. "I was the one who suggested that we speak with you before going forward with any more of the planning for this year's event."

Blaine shot a small smile Mr. Hoffman's way, glad that his brother's friend was on his side.

Mrs. Santiago spoke up, taking his silence as a request for more information. "The 'Hope for Blaine' fundraiser has become a staple event in the community. Each year we hold a gala here at Dalton, with performances by the Warblers, the orchestra, the choir from Crawford, their dance team, and other school organizations. There's also a silent auction as part of the evening. Your parents and brother have spoken in past years about how important the cause is, and we've also been fortunate enough to be joined by people from the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. It's really a remarkable event."

"I mean, it sounds like a good cause," he offered.

"It is," Mr. Hoffman assured, "but I wanted to see if you are comfortable with having your name associated with it while you're a student here."

Now he understood the purpose of the meeting. Mrs. Santiago was here to advocate her cause, the counselor to soak up his tears, the Dean to referee, and Mr. Hoffman to fight whatever battle Blaine needed fought.

"I can't really imagine that there's anyone here who doesn't know about me and my family," he said slowly, "but, you're right, Mr. Hoffman. I don't think I'd really love the attention of a school-wide event named after me."

Mrs. Santiago pursed her lips, looking upset.

"How about we come up with a different name for this year and next year, and once Blaine is in college we can decide if we want to go back to the 'Hope for Blaine?'" Mr. Hoffman suggested.

Blaine was nodding eagerly at the idea before Mrs. Santiago could air her displeasure.

"I only worry that we may lose support from the community without the name recognition," she said.

"Like Blaine said, I think everyone around here knows exactly what happened. I'm sure they'd all understand his need to keep some aspect of his life private after it was aired so publicly last year."

"Of course," Mrs. Santiago said stiffly. "However, we'll need to settle on the name change immediately, as my marketing team has already begun advertising this year's 10th anniversary gala. You haven't given me very much time to make such a change."

"The committee has always done excellent work in organizing the gala," the Dean finally offered, stroking Mrs. Santiago's ego. "I'm sure you'll be able to pull off this event just as smoothly as any other year."

Mrs. Santiago nodded curtly. "We'll get to work immediately. Now, I was wondering if perhaps Blaine would be interested in speaking to the attendees? They have been supporting him and his family so much for the last decade, I'm sure they'd all love to hear from him."

Blaine could tell that Mr. Hoffman was not happy with this turn of events, but the teacher turned to let him speak for himself.

"Uh, look - I'm so grateful for all the support you've given my family these last few years, but I just don't know what I'd say, or even if I'm ready to talk about what happened to people yet."

Mr. Hoffman turned back to Mrs. Santiago with a challenge in his eyes. The woman looked slightly disgruntled, but didn't pursue the matter any further.

When the meeting let out, it was almost lunchtime, so Blaine didn't bother going back to class. Instead, he followed Mr. Hoffman to his computer lab.

"Thanks," he told his teacher meekly once they were alone in the classroom, "for standing up for me." It was quiet but for the slight buzzing of the electronics and felt like a much safer space than the Dean's office minutes earlier.

"Of course. Even if Cooper wasn't my best friend, I would have been able to notice that you don't like having attention drawn to yourself. It's perfectly normal. I was worried that she was going to try to get to you and guilt you into doing the gala, so I figured we'd better head her off."

"Yeah, but you didn't have to do that."

"I'm your teacher. It's my job to protect my kids."

"And Cooper would kill you if you didn't stand up for me?"

Mr. Hoffman chuckled slightly. "Maybe. But I'm pretty sure I could take him in a fight. He's usually too preoccupied with keeping his pretty face safe."

For the third time this year, Mr. Hoffman had come to his rescue and made him feel normal. He was probably the one person who knew the most about his life at this school and instead of looking at him like he was different like so many of the other teachers and kids did, he treated him like he was any other student. Blaine was forever grateful that he and Cooper had been such good friends, because without that history he probably wouldn't have his strongest advocate at school.

He ended up spending his lunch period in the computer lab. Several other boys joined after the bell rang, and Mr. Hoffman explained that they held an informal coding club in his lab at lunchtime. The boys and the teacher joked around, talking about everything from HTML and Python and C++ to Game of Thrones and Doctor Who and even the Cincinnati Reds' prospects in the upcoming season.

Mr. Hoffman smiled at him when the bell for the next period rang and told him he'd always be welcome at Coding Club, even if he never logged on to a computer.

Sebastian sat with him at lunch most days. Ever since the boys had decided that their relationship was best as a friendship, Sebastian had become, seemingly, a different person. Even Jeff acknowledged the positive impact Blaine had on Sebastian, if a bit grudgingly. Sure, Sebastian was a constant flirt, but it was all in good fun. Blaine knew that if it ever became uncomfortable, he could tell Sebastian and it would stop.

As a kid, he'd been very touchy-feely. He loved nothing more than to curl up in Marilyn's lap for a bedtime story, and he loved holding her hand when they were out walking in the streets, even when he was too old for that.

He and Syd had always had a more physical relationship, hugging and cuddling and even hand-holding when together.

But everything had changed when the truth came out. It had been unconscious, and he hadn't even realized it until now, until Sebastian, but he had shied away from all touches. Sydney was close, but in those weeks he'd lived with her family, he had been both emotionally and physically distant.

Then moving back in with his parents - he had been so uncomfortable around them, not knowing who they were or what they wanted. Handshakes seemed too formal but a hug too intimate. Even as the bonds grew, the physical closeness didn't develop. Sure, there were hugs, but never the big, deep bear hugs that he sometimes ached for.

But with Sebastian, touch was normal. When Sebastian flirtatiously slid a hand into his back pocket, he did it because that is how he expresses himself. He didn't treat Blaine like a fragile, broken person. Nor did he treat him like an object to be desired anymore. It was a friendship that Blaine treasured.

Spring break was hotly anticipated in the halls of Dalton. All the teachers were piling on the work as AP exams approached and the students were becoming tired. He felt like he hadn't seen the sun without it being filtered through school windows in weeks.

Lunchtime conversation centered around everyone's plans for the break from school. Nick was going to New England to tour colleges with his parents, Trent was going to visit his grandparents in Florida, Sebastian was going to Paris, and Blaine was, of course, going to LA and Sacramento.

"Ugh, you guys are so lucky," Jeff moaned on the last Friday of school. "You're all going to sunny beaches or whatever and I'm stuck here in Ohio."

"Hey, I've got to deal with my parents not-so-subtly trying to convince me that I should be pre-med while touring schools like Harvard and Yale all break. It's not exactly relaxing, especially when you factor in the fact that I'll never get into Harvard and I doubt anyone in their right mind would let me be a doctor."

"Yeah, but at least you'll be disappointing your parents in a different location."

Nick punched his friend on the shoulder.

Sebastian snorted at the antics and laid his head on Blaine's shoulder. Due to their height difference, that involved quite a bit of manipulation. "I'd love to spend all day on a beach with you sunbathing," he practically purred. "Preferably a nude beach."

He shoved Sebastian off playfully. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Smythe. I'm visiting my brother and going to court. There's nothing glamorous or fun about that."

"There is when your brother is that hot."

Truthfully, while he'd first been excited about getting to see Syd again, he'd become more hesitant as he realized what going back to Sacramento represented. Last time he'd been there, everything had been so strange and wrong and terrifying. Sure, there was a decade of happy memories, too, but all those happy memories had been tainted ever so slightly in hindsight.

Sebastian's come-ons and inane chatter helped drown out his worries.

The family spent the weekend in LA, allowing Cooper to show off and give them the star treatment. After the two long road trips between LA and San Francisco the previous year, they'd decided to forgo that option this time and flew up to San Francisco. There was an unspoken understanding among all four Andersons that San Francisco, and the ferry to Alcatraz in particular, was an almost sacred place in family lore.

While they didn't repeat the previous spring's activities exactly, they did spend the day touring the city. Cooper and Blaine posed for a photo near Pier 33 in homage to the moment of kismet from the previous year, the picture that reunited the family.

CooperAnderson: What a difference a year can make. Thanks sydneyyyy123 for fangirling and bringing my brother home.

Driving into Sacramento was strange. Everything was still so familiar, and yet so different from the last time he had been here. The family drove past his old high school, and he recognized some of his old haunts – the community center where he'd done theatre, the Barnes and Noble where he and friends used to hang out, the cafe that served s'mores, the movie theater where he and Brian had gone on their first date, and the diner where he and his friends went after school plays.

He recognized it all, and yet he felt so disconnected. These were memories from a different life.

After checking into a hotel, they went over to the Johnson home. Sydney's parents had prepared a veritable feast for the family. He loved how his parents and Sydney's family just clicked. When sitting at the table, he felt perfectly normal among this group of people, his real family and his found family combined. They had all seen him in his hardest moments and supported him in those months when everything seemed wrong, and now that things were starting to seem right again, he was glad to prove to them all that their support paid off.

He stayed at the Johnson home that night, and Sydney caught him up on all the gossip that had never made it into any of their phone calls. They clicked through her facebook to stalk classmates and laughed at old inside jokes.

It felt good and natural, but he also realized that joking around with Jeff and Trent and Sebastian and Nick was starting to feel just as normal as hanging out with Syd.

Blaine was finally starting to realize that even though the hearing still had to happen, it was essentially meaningless. He was a part of this family. He always had been, he always would be, and he wanted to be. Nothing anyone could say could change that for him again. His family accepted both his worlds and both his worlds opened their arms to him.

When he returned to school, he felt like a different person. Even though the social services process had put him in a funk when he'd initially learned about the legal matters, closing the case had lifted a massive weight off his shoulders.

By far the best medicine, though, had been returning to the California sun and air and getting to hang out with Sydney and all his old friends again. He was rejuvenated and ready to take on the world.

It was lucky that he had so much good will built up in him, because as soon as he returned to the halls of Dalton, he was reminded that he was different. Posters for the gala (now called 'Hope for Missing Children') papered the halls and popped up in other local businesses, too, like the coffee shop and the library.

During morning break, while he was trying to catch up on homework he'd neglected during the break in the student lounge, he noticed a presence at his elbow.

He looked up and saw a student he vaguely recognized from passing in the halls standing by his side.

"Blaine Anderson?" the boy asked. He didn't even wait for Blaine's nod before continuing. "I'm Charlie Seymour, editor of The Dalton Chronicle. I was wondering if I could sit down?"

He didn't think he really had a choice in the matter, as the older boy was already pulling out the empty chair at his table and making himself comfortable.

"As you might be aware, Mr. Michaels is the newspaper advisor. He and I have been speaking lately and we thought that in light of the upcoming gala, it would be a great idea to do an interview with you and write a piece about your return."

It wasn't a surprise, not really. As soon as the boy had said the name of the school newspaper, Blaine knew what he wanted to ask. But he still didn't know how to respond. He didn't want to do an interview or any sort of press, whether small-scale school paper or national media. But he also didn't think this boy would understand. As much as Dalton was being accommodating and supportive, there was always an undercurrent of entitlement to his interactions with the administration. Like, Dalton had done so much fundraising and supporting in the past that they deserved something extra from him now.

"I'm kinda busy right now," he said, gesturing to his chemistry textbook and notebook filled with near-unintelligible scribbles. If it wasn't for Jeff, he probably would be failing the class.

Charlie laughed. There was something off-putting about his entire demeanor, as if it was all an act that he was putting on, like he thought this was how a reporter should be. Like he thought this would make interviewees feel comfortable. Whoever this Mr. Michaels was needed to do a better job teaching his students. "Of course not now, I was thinking that we could schedule a time to meet up after school for the interview."

Of course the entitled kid had all the answers.

"Maybe… I mean, I'd need to think it over, so can I get back to you?" Maybe he could just ghost Charlie and avoid giving him a straight answer.

"Of course," he said. "Here's my phone number and email. Reach out any time. I'm looking forward to speaking with you."

Blaine slipped the piece of paper into his planner, not wanting to seem rude, even though he was planning on losing track of it. Yet even though he didn't want to do the interview, barely even wanted to talk to his family and therapists about his past, let alone a stranger that was reporting it to the world, he kept thinking about it.

Would talking to the school paper just bring back the stares and whispers that had faded once the students and staff at Dalton got used to him being there? Or would it answer all the unasked questions they had and ward off any future awkward interactions?

Therapy with Matt, for once, didn't help clarify his confused thoughts. Matt had helped talk him through the potential outcomes that he was worried about, but wouldn't give an answer as to whether he should do the interview.

He'd tried talking to his parents at dinner, but they were frustratingly unwilling to share their opinions on the matter. He thought that he caught significant glances, but he hadn't learned how to read their expressions fluently yet.

He started watching his every step at school so as to best avoid Charlie. He'd paid a few more lunchtime visits to Mr. Hoffman's classroom, and even tried talking to the teacher about it. While Mr. Hoffman joined all the other adults in his life in not telling him what to do, he was able to provide more insight into the matter.

"Well, if you choose to do the interview, you can choose what to share. And you can talk to Mr. Michaels and insist that you get to read over the article before it's published. I know we're generally anti-censorship here at Dalton, but when it comes to a sensitive and personal subject like this, there's only so much he can get away with.

"But I think the real question is, what would it mean to you to do the interview or to not do it?"

He thought about that one all through the rest of his classes, on the way home, through family dinner, and as he laid in bed trying to fall asleep.

What would it mean to do the interview?

He could finally say what he was feeling. Maybe it would be enough to get the questions to stop. And he could prove that he was bigger than this – bigger than this completely and literally life-altering thing that had happened to him without his consent.

And if he didn't?

He would never forgive himself for being such a coward.

There was less than a week before the gala, and only a few days before the paper's publishing deadline. He didn't feel bad for making Charlie and Mr. Michaels sweat a little about how close they were cutting it. It was going to be a lot harder on him than it was on them.

He met Charlie in the journalism classroom right after school. Usually the Chronicle staff would be running around the room in a frenzy with a deadline approaching, but today the room was empty.

Five things you can see: a corded phone attached to the wall. A bulletin board covered in papers. A row of black, boxy computers. A khaki overcoat hanging on the door. A mini-fridge in the corner, under the windows.

Charlie set up his recorder and sat back in his chair. Blaine thought his show of attempted professionalism was almost ludicrous. Focusing on details like that helped keep his doubts from creeping back in. Was telling his story to a high school newspaper really the best route to take?

Four things you can touch around you: the soft acrylic fake-wool of his cardigan. The hard wood of the conference table they sat at. The itchy plush of the chair. Solid tile beneath his feet.

"Let's start from the beginning," Charlie said. "What can you remember about the day you were taken?"

Three things you can hear: ticking from the analog clock on the wall. Charlie's voice. A car alarm honking outside.

"There's not a lot I do remember. People have told me what happened, and I've had some dreams... well, nightmares, I guess - but I'm never sure what is real. But sometimes, I remember feeling scared about my mo – about Marilyn – and it must be from then. When else was I scared of her? Sorry, let me start over, at the beginning. So it makes sense."

Two things you can smell: the musty, inky smell of newsprint. Faint body odor lingering from PE.

"That's okay. This is your story. Tell it to me how it makes sense to you."

One thing you can taste: the lingering sweetness of the s'mores granola bar he'd stuffed in his mouth before entering the room.

"Yeah. Okay." He took a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily, taking stock of his surroundings just like Matt had taught him. When he opened them back up, he felt in control of himself. "There were times when I knew something was wrong. I just didn't know what kind of wrong it was."

He knew his parents had read the school paper. There had been a copy on the kitchen counter when he came down for breakfast on Saturday morning – Gala day. It had disappeared by the time he went to put his dishes in the dishwasher, but he knew better than to think it had truly gone.

Blaine had a Skype date planned with Sydney that afternoon, and she mentioned the article, too. He was almost surprised, but he'd learned long ago not to underestimate Sydney. Cooper called him about it and the gala as well, asking if he wanted to add anything to post on the website.

That surprised him.

Now that he was back home, he'd expected Cooper to give up on the "Hope for Blaine" campaign. And it had died down in the early months. But now, Cooper was apparently working even more closely with NCMEC than he ever had before in order to continue raising more awareness. There was a post scheduled to coincide with the gala and the newspaper article.

He'd declined. Enough of his words were already out there for everyone to read.

He tried to keep himself busy so that he wouldn't think about the gala. It was strange to know that there was this entire entity that had been borne from him, without his ever knowing about it. But it was also… nice. It was nice to know that there was an enduring legacy around him and his family that was for good.

Blaine and his parents went out for dinner in Columbus and then went to see a movie. They stayed away from home and from Dalton, happy to live in a world where they didn't need to rely on a publicity event to be together, even if the gala had been a source of hope for them for so many years.

His parents had attended the gala every year since it started, and Blaine felt bad to be the reason they didn't attend this year. It was obviously important to them. It represented hope, beyond just the word in the name. This was a community that had come together around them for the sole purpose of helping them find their missing piece. This was an organization that helped them hire the private investigator that eventually found him, that believed and supported them every step of the way. And now, when they can fully celebrate and thank that community because he was back - he was keeping them from it.

But Blaine couldn't make himself go, couldn't face a room full of people staring at him, knowing him. And his parents supported him.

James, Pam, and Cooper had recorded video messages for the gala. It was partly another plea for privacy, partly a genuine showering of thanks, and partly an apology for not attending in person. Blaine had watched the video, and told his parents that they could go if they wanted to. He hated that he - his insecurities and his fears - were keeping them from this. But they wouldn't hear a word of protest and told him as much.

"No matter how much these people have done for us over the last ten years, you are more important," Pam said.

When the gala was finished, Blaine got a few texts from friends. Jeff told him how weird it was that he'd been singing at the event for the last two years and finally "knew the guy it was all about." Trent reported that the speakers and everyone had been very respectful about him and his family and his privacy. Sebastian complimented his ass.

He smiled. Things felt good. Normal.

Many of Blaine's friends' spirits lifted as soon as the first two weeks of May and the AP tests passed by. While Blaine had been in AP English, he still was in mostly regular honors classes that would continue learning up until the semester was officially over in the first week of June.

However, he did have something to look forward to before classes let out, keeping his spirits light as his friends goofed off around him.

Following the interview in the Chronicle, he felt lighter, happier, and freer. He began joking around with his friends more. He called his parents 'mom' and 'dad' more frequently and with much more ease. So when Jeff had been telling him about his weekend plans to audition to be a performer in Six Flags' summer shows, he said, "That sounds awesome! Mind if I tag along?"

Jeff grinned. "Yeah! It would be so awesome if we can work together this summer."

Jeff's mom dropped them off at the business park where the Six Flags Ohio corporate offices were located. The audition was in about half an hour, so they had plenty of time to find where they needed to go and calm their nerves.

Neither boy had done something like this before. Both had performance experience, but getting paid to perform was something new and exciting. There were a few dozen other hopefuls waiting in the lobby when they arrived, but the boys didn't let the competition intimidate them.

The audition officially started when they were ushered into a dance studio – who knew an office park would have a dance studio? – and taught simple choreography. They were split into groups of five and each group was called up and asked to perform the choreography. Vocal auditions followed, and took much longer, as they had to be done individually.

After several hours, mostly spent sitting around and getting to know the other hopefuls, the director began calling people back into the room. Both Blaine and Jeff were included in this group, and they crossed their fingers in hopes that this was a good sign.

They then had to learn even more choreography, and a song this time as well. He was starting to regret not joining the Warblers, as he saw that Jeff picked everything up just a little bit faster. Even so, he was having fun. The thrill of competition made the achy muscles fade away. He was caught up in singing, dancing, and having a good time.

By the end of the day, both he and Jeff were confident they'd booked the job. Less than a week later, their confidence was confirmed and both boys got a rehearsal and performance schedule in their inboxes.