Disclaimer: Do not own the characters, songs or anything about the show. Just borrowing them to play a bit.

Notes: I recently was reminded this account exists, and I feel like adding all the stories I've written since. This story is a sequel to When The Rain Starts To Pour and deals with what exactly happened after the Dalton Memorial until Blaine eventually makes his phone call to Sebastian. Again, this story is very Blaine centric, and deals with the Klaine relationship failing while his friendship with Sebastian deepens, and starts to turn into something else. Updates every few days. The title is once more from the Friends opening, "I'll Be There For You" by the Rembrandts.

Stuck In Second Gear

Blaine felt like the eye of the storm, although that might be a bit too dramatic. It had been a long day, saying goodbye to the place that had been his home for so long, but now, at the Hummels' dinner table, surrounded by the people that were now legally his family as well as emotionally, listening to a conversation that seemed just a bit too loud, he felt…

Detached. But in a good way, if there was such a thing.

He smiled, and nodded, and piped in at the right moments as Kurt was talking about his meeting with Rachel and Jesse, and the plans they made for Regionals and Nationals. But deep down, he wasn't completely engaged in the conversation.

It was okay though, it really was. He was exhausted, but calm. Maybe he was drained from the day's events, his panic attack, and having to leave Dalton behind (for now, a voice at the back of his mind said, and he could hear the smirk and wink in it), but at the moment, he felt okay. He'd be sad for a long while, but he didn't feel paralyzed anymore. The cold and fear had dissipated under the camaraderie between the Warblers, and Sebastian's words.

"You doing okay there?"

He looked up at Burt's word to find the man looking at him with barely concealed concern. Maybe he zoned out a bit more than he thought.

"I'm okay," he said, "just… it was a long day."

"It's such a sweet idea to hold a memorial," Carol said, "for students to get a chance to say goodbye."

Blaine opened his mouth to agree, and the warmth in her expression almost made him want to open up, talk about Dalton, what it meant…

"And for alumni to get a chance to feel bad enough to donate money for the repairs," Kurt said. "They laid it on a bit thick. Honestly, that was more a fundraiser than a memorial."

It wasn't true, not completely. Yes, they wanted donations, but it had also been a chance to reconnect with his friends, a chance to say goodbye, and of course, a chance to gain some perspective. He realized once more that Kurt had never understood Dalton the way he did, and he didn't have the words to explain it.

"Was it a nice ceremony though?" Carol asked, maybe picking up on his reaction.

"It was," Blaine said before he could be interrupted. "And yes, of course they're going to raise money for the restorations, but it was more than that. They put emphasis on Dalton virtues, to remind us to stick with them, even if Dalton is gone for now. Keep them alive, so to speak, until they rebuild and it can all come home."

And Kurt… rolled his eyes.

As if Dalton was a joke. As if Blaine was being ridiculous, as if all those virtues were made up. As if it didn't matter.

"You disagree," he said, more of a statement than a question.

"I just think they put in too much pathos about Dalton traditions, just to make the alumni feel bad and give more money. Besides, how virtuous was Dalton really? Doesn't seem to matter all the much if you consider the stuff they let Sebastian pull off."

When he closed his eyes, Blaine could still conjure up the feeling of Sebastian holding him, bringing him back from his panic attack when Kurt had been off, chatting with Rachel. He could hear his velvet voice, telling him that Dalton would live on. Even Sebastian, for all his cynicism and sarcasm could see what Dalton meant.

But Kurt would probably always see it as an exile, a cage that he couldn't wait to escape. Blaine understood that, of course. Kurt never chose Dalton, was forced there, and never really fit in. He was too individualistic for that, had to express himself otherwise he'd just… choke. Blaine understood. But for him, it had been a safe haven, a place to find himself again when the world had beaten him down. He just wished sometimes Kurt would accept that they had completely different experiences.

Usually, he'd let it go. But now, his serenity had been dispelled, the hurt was back, and something bitter was stuck in his throat. He wanted to protest and shout, and…

Unconsciously, he put his hand in his pocket, the fingers brushing against the paper with Sebastian's number. I could end it right here.

It was a sobering thought. Somehow, it soothed his temper. He took a deep breath before speaking.

"It matters to me," he said, looking straight into Kurt's eyes, careful not to shield himself. For a moment, he let go of all his masks that he got used to wearing, those that made him look like he knew what he was doing, like he was fine, like he wasn't bothered by being ignored and belittled. Instead, for a moment, he let Kurt in, let him see, hoped it showed everything going on in his mind – that he was hurting, and sad, and how important this was for him.

And Kurt met his gaze – and he saw. For just a second, his eyes widened, and he looked almost ashamed, at least regretful. He took Blaine's hand under the table, squeezed it in what Blaine understood as a silent apology.

Blaine hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until he could finally release it. Finally, it felt as if Kurt understood.

The awkward moment was broken when Burt started asking questions about their upcoming plans, and Blaine was happy to let Kurt go back to describing what he and Rachel had come up with. He still felt easier, calmer, back at his point as eye of the storm, except not quite as detached with Kurt's hand anchoring him.

This was good. He managed to show Kurt how upset he was, and Kurt had noticed, had reacted. It wasn't quite the open communication they both needed, but it was a start.

His other hand closed around the paper in his pocket.

They were going to be fine.

Second time national champions New Directions. It definitely had a nice ring to it.

Blaine felt his heart soar, pride washing over him as he watched the students take their trophy. All that hard work had finally paid off, even if he'd had his doubts during the rehearsals, trying to combine two groups into one.

He turned to Kurt, his smile so wide it hurt, to celebrate their victory.

Kurt and Rachel were hugging, holding onto each other, and squealing in a range that might just be audible to bats. It took Blaine out of the moment like cold water to the face. He looked back to the kids, their clear excitement soothing the sudden, unexpected hurt at least a little bit. When he turned back, Kurt was in front of him, pulling him into a quick hug as well, beaming at him, and Blaine laughed, trying to pretend everything was fine, to recapture the joy and excitement from just a few moments ago.

Kurt and Rachel started congratulating their students, and Blaine followed, putting on a show face for the kids. They were right to be excited, and he was definitely not immature enough to be upset about his husband first turning to Rachel instead of him. It made sense after all, they were the ones who had pushed this version of New Directions to the top. Blaine and the Warblers had just been an addition.

His step faltered when the realization hit him. That was it, wasn't it? In the end, it was just about Kurt and Rachel, and the New Directions. His boys had been accepted as support, but in the end, it wasn't about them. Had he failed his own students? Should he have insisted on boosting their voices, made sure they stood out more than they did? Did they feel as detached from the group as he did?

Judging from their smiles, maybe not. Still, the feeling of victory felt tinged now by regret. He should have taken better care of them, been a better advocate. A better leader. But this wasn't the time. He couldn't go back and change the set-up, and either way, it had been good enough to earn them the national championship. Tonight was for celebrating.

It was only later, at the diner they decided to celebrate at, with the students busy with their food and excitement, and Rachel and Kurt and Mr. Shue putting their heads together, conspiring about something or other (something about taking down Sue for good, and okay, that was something worth doing), that Blaine felt he had to let go of the mask for just a little bit. He excused himself, stepping outside for some fresh air.

Tonight wasn't about him. Tonight was about them, and they were happy, proud, excited as they had every right to be. Him feeling like an outsider was nothing new, but it was very much his personal problem, and he would get over it.

His phone rang, an unsaved number he'd recognize anytime. He shot a glance through the diner's window, where Kurt was still excitedly talking to Rachel and Mr. Shue.

Without a second thought, Blaine answered the phone.

"National champions," Sebastian's smooth voice said instead of a greeting. "I've got to admit, it has a nice ring to it."

Blaine blinked in confusion. "How did you…"

"Show choir blogs," Sebastian replied, and Blaine could picture him shrugging, a slightly self-conscious smile on his face. "That was actually a pretty good show you put up. Almost impressive."

Blaine laughed, shaking his head. "Careful, you're starting to sound nice. One might think you actually cared."

"Tell anyone and they'll never find your body," Sebastian replied. "But seriously… you did great. Congratulations."

It would be so easy to just say thank you and be done with it. But Sebastian might just be the one person he could open up to, the one person who understood what he was really upset about.

"It wasn't fair to the Warblers. I should have… I don't know, given them more opportunity to shine. To have this be their victory too. I didn't stand up for them enough."

There was silence on the other end of the line, and Blaine wondered if he made a mistake. But then, Sebastian sighed, softly, and Blaine imagined feeling his breath against his ear.

"I wouldn't worry about it. Let's be honest, in the long run they'll only remember winning, not the details."

"Is that enough, though?" Blaine asked, hating how insecure he sounded.

"For them, sure? For you… I don't know, is anything you ever do good enough for you? Just… relax for once, Blaine. Your standards are way too high."

"That's Cooper's fault," Blaine said. And maybe his father's, but this was not the time to bring up all of his issues.

"Oh yeah, he says hi by the way," Sebastian said. "He told me I'm his wingman now. Should I be worried?"

"Very. Actually, you should use your chance to run away while you can."

"I'm afraid it's too late for me. Do try to mourn for me, will you?" Sebastian voice sounded light, fun. Blaine imagined him in LA, sun-kissed and carefree, and he felt a bit jealous. It was a nice picture.

"I'll give a eulogy that will go down in Dalton history," Blaine promised.

They were silent for a moment, and just at the moment Blaine wondered if it was comfortable or awkward, Sebastian spoke again.

"You could have won without them," he said, his voice softer than before, as if this was more private. "You and the Warblers. You'd have deserved it."

Blaine closed his eyes, surprised at the warmth filling him. He wasn't sure how serious Sebastian was being, or how biased he was, but it meant a lot to hear it – that he and his contribution mattered, that at least someone thought he was good enough.

"Anyway, I have to go," Sebastian said. "Congratulations again."

"Thank you," Blaine said, not sure what he was referring to. "Say hi to Cooper?"

"If I get a word in. Talk to you later?"

Blaine found himself smiling. "Definitely."

Ending the call, he felt calmer. He took another few breaths of fresh air before he returned inside, sliding into the booth beside Kurt, who shot him a wide smile. He leaned in, putting a kiss on his husband cheeks, as Kurt started telling him the plans they'd made to take down Sue. They sounded insane, but then again, that was McKinley. What else had he expected?

Blaine wasn't sure what he expected upon returning to New York. He was looking forward to studying at NYU, certain that the atmosphere there would suit him much better than NYADA and its cliques ever had. Tutoring the Warblers had restored his confidence, and maybe broadened his perspective a bit. Plus, going to different schools would be less strain on him and Kurt as well, giving both of them more space to unfold.

What he hadn't been prepared for, was to return to the Bushwick loft. He wasn't even sure how Kurt had been able to hold onto it while staying in Ohio for a semester, but somehow he had made it work. He shouldn't have been surprised, both Kurt and Rachel loved the place and were clearly ecstatic to be back.

Blaine felt like throwing up the moment he stepped through the door.

What's different this time? What will you do different this time to get a different result?

Two times he had moved into this place, hopeful to start life with his soulmate. Neither of them had worked out. And now, they were back here.

Blaine had only thought about college, not their living arrangements. But everything in the loft reminded hm of their former failures. It didn't help that Rachel was going to stay with them. Then again, the loft had been hers and Kurt's, so maybe it was more that Blaine was staying with them? Either way, he felt his throat close up as they started unpacking, the chattering between Kurt and Rachel setting him even more on edge. Was he imagining that Kurt was acting overly cheerful, or was that just his hope that he wasn't the only person not at ease?

At some point, their giddy excitement was too much. He excused himself, hiding away in the bathroom – at least that one had a door, and walls, and how exactly was it a good idea to have three people living here? He sat town on the floor, leaning his head against the wall, and tried to calm his breathing. He felt ridiculous. It was just a loft. It wasn't like it was cursed, like their relationship couldn't thrive here. It was up to them to make it work. And it had to work, right? If they couldn't make it this time, he knew he wouldn't have the strength to try again. That would be it for them.

His fingers twitched, and he wished he had that piece of paper with Sebastian's number at hand. It was somewhere in his wallet right now, but he couldn't exactly walk outside, only to hide again once he got his hands on the paper. Instead, he started drawing the numbers onto the bathroom floor.

It would be okay. They would do their best to make it work and not fall back into old patterns. And if it didn't work out… well, he wouldn't be left floating. If they crashed and burned – and that was an if, not a when – he wouldn't fall. He had a safety net. He had options. He was here because he wanted to be.

Here with Kurt, not here in the loft.

He really didn't want to be in the loft.

There was a knock at the door, and after a moment, Kurt peaked inside.

"Are you okay?"

Wasn't that the question of the century?

"Sorry, I just… needed a moment," Blaine said, trying to smile.

Kurt came inside, looking at him concerned. "Rachel left to spend the night with Jesse," he said as he walked up to him. "I'm not sure if I should worry about her, even if she's sure he turned over a new leaf."

"That's a good thing," Blaine said softy, "new leaves…"

"I guess," Kurt said, not even trying to sound convinced. He sat down in front of Blaine, and for a moment, they just shared the space without talking.

"You're not okay," Kurt said eventually, breaking the silence.

Blaine looked down at his hands, not sure where to start. It was clearly his opening to say how he felt. But Kurt loved this place. How could Blaine make him see just how uncomfortable he was here?

"What's going on?" Kurt asked, when he didn't speak for too long.

"It's just…" Blaine stopped, trying to sort the words in his head. "This place. There are just… memories, you know? We don't exactly have a good track record with us living here."

"Well, that's not the loft's fault," Kurt said, and there was just that edge of defensiveness that Blaine had known to expect.

"I know," Blaine said, "it just feels… weird, coming back here. The rule of three, you know?"

"Or maybe third time's the charm?" Kurt countered.

"Or three is a crowd," Blaine said before he could catch himself.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kurt asked, and now there was more than an edge to it.

Blaine wasn't sure he was ready for this particular discussion, wasn't sure if he'd ever be. Maybe he should prepare better before bringing it up – Kurt got defensive so easily, was half-way there already, and there was no talking to Kurt when his shields were up. But that was the point, wasn't it? They'd have to communicate, if this marriage was supposed to have a snowball's chance in hell, and for that Blaine had to be his own person, stand up for himself, and not just go along with everything Kurt wanted until he couldn't remember who he even was anymore.

"I don't think these living arrangements are going to work out long-term," he said. "Us and Rachel, in the loft. I mean… we're married. Shouldn't we have some sort of privacy?"

"Couples our age have room-mates all the time," Kurt said.

"Married couples?" Blaine replied.

"There aren't that many married couples our age," Kurt replied. "Well, not in New York at least…"

True, but it still sat kind of wrong.

"Either way, I'm sure those couples with roommates at least have walls," Blaine continued, trying not to go off on a tangent.

"Do you expect me to put walls in here? We're going to make this work. Rachel and I have been living here for ages, and it worked out fine – even when Santana was living here. It was even fine when you lived here with us."

"We almost broke up when I lived here with you two," Blaine replied.

"That wasn't about the living arrangements, that was because you were suffocating me. And we did not almost break up, we had a fight!"

Kurt's voice got louder, and Blaine realized he was close to losing him. Any moment now, Kurt would shut off and not listen to a thing he said. There were only a few points he'd manage to get in, and pointing out just how bad that fight had been wasn't worth it.

"Kurt… I just don't think it's going to work out. I'm not comfortable with his."

Kurt frowned at him, clearly not understanding. "So what, is Rachel just supposed to find something else? This is her place as much as mine. We can't just make her move out. She's just finding her footing back in New York."

"What if we find something else?" Blaine asked. "Just you and me. A place for us, a new one. Something with no bad memories attached, a fresh start. Isn't this what we're doing?"

At least he'd hoped that was it…

But maybe he'd been wrong. At least Kurt looked at him as if he had lost his mind.

"You're kidding, right? Now you come up with this? Right after we moved back in? What am I supposed to do about this now?"

"Just… maybe we can look around if we find something," Blaine said, but it was hopeless. He wasn't getting through.

"I love this place," Kurt said, glaring at him, "and if you gave it a chance, you would too. We can have our fresh start right here. You just have to be open to it."

Blaine closed his eyes, sighing. How could he put into words what he was feeling? That he was scared of failing again, that the loft had become so connected to the idea that they couldn't work together? How could he make Kurt listen?

But strangely, when he looked up again, Kurt wasn't glaring at him anymore. He still looked upset, but less angry now.

"We both have to make this work, Blaine. Can't we try?" His voice sounded almost sad.

"I want to try," Blaine said. "I'm just… scared."

Kurt's expression softened. "Don't be. I'm serious about this. About us. We can make this work. We just have to trust each other and move forward – not hold onto the past. You'll see. It's going to be okay."

Blaine nodded, trying to believe it. This was good though. They were talking. Maybe they could work this out after all.

Kurt extended a hand, and Blaine let himself be pulled to his feet. Kurt smiled at him, with just a hint of uncertainty, and it made him feel calmer. He wasn't alone in this. Kurt was just as uncertain as he was. If they worked together, they certainly could figure this out – maybe not tonight, but with enough time, they'd make this work.

They would be fine.