Imagine meeting a professional football player. Now imagine him going behind you, tearing into your skin on your upper back, and ripping. Every muscle will be torn, every bone broken or close to breaking, and you wonder if death would be the better option. Then, he reaches deep beneath the surface, and begins to pull. Now this unnatural attachment begins to grow, and you can feel it's presence at every waking moment. It is controllable, just another limb, another arm, or a leg. You move it, up, down, left, right, getting used to the feeling. The pain is still present, still fresh on your mind and on your skin. It's a pain that you will just have to get used to.

This is what it is like to grow wings.

The past 24 hours has got to be the worst of Blaine's life. He thought that being uprooted from everything he knew and thrown into what is considered a prison was bad enough, absolutely nothing could compare to growing his wings. Searing pain is a great understatement. He's pretty sure a word hasn't been invented yet that can even begin to describe the amount of pain that has raged throughout his body. Since there were no mirrors, he wasn't able to see the damage done, but there was a feeling that he didn't want to. The shirt he was wearing was completely ripped, and dried blood was caked on his back. Every time he moved his wings (which is, wow,always going to be weird to him), the healing that happened was reversed as the wounds opened back up. Blaine was trying to patch everything up with some makeshift bandages made from towels in the bathroom attached to his room. Without having a mirror, and flexible enough arms, this was proving to be quite difficult. The door opened and someone grabbed the towels he was trying to wrap around the base of the wings.

"You're gonna need help sweetie." Lizzie said taking the towels and tossing to the side. "I brought some disinfectant to put on the wounds, since you can't wrap it, at least not until the wings are fully grown. It never really works to wrap them anyways, it's better to just let them move freely." She began dabbing on his back. Blaine winced at the stinging, but doesn't say anything—this is nothing compared to the pain last night. "It looks like you're going to have some nice ones though, I've always been jealous of the people with black feathers, it goes along much better with my skin tone than the ones I got. I should be happy, mine are still pretty nice, at least they're not like Dan Summers' wings." She chuckled to herself.

"Who?"

"Oh, he came here about, 3 years ago? He's this giant of a guy, big muscles and an ego to go with it. You can sit down now, by the way, I'm finished. Anyways, he came here, refused to take the medicine, and I'm pretty sure he's still denying that he cried and screamed like a baby that night. The next day we see him walking around with these bright orange monarch butterfly type wings, and with an expression that he could audition for the role of Grumpy in Snow White, if he was about 4 feet shorter. He went ranting and raving for weeks about how his life was so unfair. I wonder if his attitude has changed at all, it's been a couple years since I've seen him." She piled the materials she used on the chair and sat down next to Blaine on the bed.

"How is it that you haven't seen him in a couple years, this place isn't that big, is it?"

"It was made sure that we had different schedules and lived on opposite sides of the building. We were banned from seeing each other. Although, I wouldn't be surprised if the disease consumed him already. The people with the big egos always go faster than others."

"How does one get banned from seeing someone else?"

"When someone decides to rant about how he doesn't want to be a 'faggot fairy princess' the rest of his life. I think he would have gone on to say some other things, but I started strangling him with a vine before he could go on."

"But I thought you said that you shouldn't use the abilities out of anger." Blaine asked.

"This was one of my, um, moments. But you know Kurt. Even before I was taken I knew who he would be, and I couldn't have some guy go around talking like that." She sighed, with a distant look. Blaine put his hand on her shoulder and said,

"I'm sure there's exceptions to that rule then."

Lizzie looked at him and shook her head. "No, there isn't. I can't tell you too much about the training you will receive, but the first thing you will learn is to let go of your emotions when you use your powers, in fact, it is encouraged to try not to use them at all, unless you're in danger or you use it in small doses. Speaking of training, yours should begin soon. Also, you should probably take off your shirt, I forgot to tell you that before your wings seriously started to grow."

Blaine suddenly jumped up and went to the opposite side of the room, trying to shrink himself to hide in the corner. He started shaking his head, "No, I c-can't," he mumbled.

"Blaine, there's a guy here who is almost 80 years old, overweight, and it is not a pretty sight. I guess you haven't seen many people since you've been here, but every woman wears a backless top, and all the men go shirtless. It's easier and more comfortable." Lizzie sternly said to him. Blaine kept shaking his head and gained a distant look.

"I can't, I just can't. I have a-a scar." He whispered, barely audible. Lizzie got up and came to his side, putting her arm around him in a side-hug.

"Hun, I doubt anybody would notice a scar when you have wings growing out your back. And I won't ask unless you want tell me, kay?"

Blaine nodded in understanding, even giving a small laugh. Lizzie began ripping the fabric, careful not to disturb the sensitive area around the base of the wings too much, and was able to get the remains of the shirt off. She noticed the scar, running from the middle of his back, to the front of his stomach, near the bellybutton. She understood why he was so hesitant, and couldn't even begin to imagine what had happened to cause something that must have been terrible.

"Thank you," he murmured, just as his stomach started growling. Lizzie laughed and began pulling Blaine out the door.

"Why don't we go get some food, you sound hungry."

That night, Blaine had realized that he might need to change his sleeping habits since he was so used to sleeping on his back. It was going to be a long few nights since he could never sleep on his tummy well. The growing wings probably didn't help much either.

When he awoke, it took awhile to realize he was actually awake. It was pitch black, wherever he was. He realized quickly that one, his wings have grown much bigger with a greater weight and more pain on his back, and two, he was strapped to a chair and couldn't move. A hand grabbed at his arm and he nearly jumped out of his skin. This hand held his arm down while another pushed in a needle into his vein.

Relax, a voice said inside his head.

He remembers this place. The hospital's white walls were bright against his eyes, yet the corners were fuzzy. Bigger things in the room were crystal clear, yet the smaller things were out of focus. It was like living in a memory. Only when Blaine saw his 14 year old self sitting in the hospital bed, did he realize it was a memory. He watched his younger self page through a magazine, it was blank because he couldn't remember what it was, every once and awhile, pushing his unruly, long, curls out of his eyes (why he ever let his hair get that long, he doesn't know). When the door opened and Blaine's parents walked in, did the magazine materialize a cover, Blaine now remembered he was reading an old issue of Vogue, but quickly hid it underneath the covers and switched to a Sports Illustrated when his parents came into the room.

"Are you feeling better?" His mother asked as she sat down on the chair next to the bed. His dad just stayed standing, pacing the room every once and awhile. Other!Blaine tried to sit up, but had difficulties with the broken ribs and new gash in his side.

"Sorta," he grunted, putting the magazine on the bedside table. A wave of anxiousness overcame Blaine's body, he knows what happens next. Although he has never had the greatest relationship with his parents, this was the moment it took a turn for the worst.

"I just don't understand why anyone could do this to you, you always seemed to get picked on, it doesn't make sense." His mom took his hand and gave it a squeeze. Other!Blaine glanced up at his parents, looked out the window, and sighed. He was trying to build up every ounce of confidence he had so he could finally tell them, like he's wanted to for so long.

"It's because I'm," he paused for a moment, "I'm g-gay." He was barely audible, but his parents definitely heard. His mom let go of his hand, and his dad stopped pacing and gave him that look that became all too familiar the next couple years. "I did try talking to teachers, and even went to the principal, but they never listened." He tried to look to his parents for support, but instead received,

"Have you ever tried not being gay?" His mother asked.

"I just can't change who I am, mom," other!Blaine choked out as tears welled up in his eyes.

"People change all the time, maybe you should try that yourself." Both Blaines had a surge of anger rage through them at their father's words. More so for current!Blaine, since this was the second time hearing this. Now that he was more confident in everything, it hurt more this time around, for he could see the deep pain that other!Blaine was experiencing, and it was like going through this over again. Now being able to see his parent's expressions more clearly, he saw the deep disappointment behind their eyes. Blaine's heart broke in two when he saw other!Blaine break down. He needed to get out of this memory, but he wasn't sure how.

"Stop that at once," his father snapped. "Be a man." This only caused other!Blaine to break down harder. His mom tried to hold him, to comfort him, but his dad pulled her away. "He needs to learn to stand up for himself. This is what happens when you baby him too much."

Blaine had a few choice words that he wanted to say, well, more yell, at his dad. Anger throbbed throughout his body. Rage clouded his judgment, and was ready for any means possible to get back at his parents. All he needed was support, something that should be expected of all parents, but instead they just tore him down more. Just as he was about to give his piece of mind to a memory that wouldn't listen, the room started to fade to black, and he woke up.

As his eyes adjusted to the bright light, Blaine took in his surroundings. He was in a giant warehouse sized room, the walls and floors were a bright white, and the ceiling was all lights, making it difficult to see. He stood up to walk around and he realized he wasn't strapped in the chair anymore. However, he was sitting in a pile of dirt. No, wait, this is ash, he concluded as he inspected it closer, definitely ash. So either he's dreaming still, or he has died and ended up in some sort of afterlife. With giant rooms and piles of ash. Lovely.

Blaine began walking around, not really sure what to do. It was hard to walk though, with the new added weight of the wings, which seemed to have gotten bigger since the moment he was strapped in the chair in the dark room. They fluttered involuntary, which is still the weirdest thing ever, but it was a new weird, the pain that was there before, wasn't. Blaine reached to touch the area, it was healed. He must have been out a long time, he realized. But just for how long exactly?

Long enough, a voice inside his head.

Good god, he is going crazy.

Maybe, but now it is time to learn. The voice said again. Blaine tried to identify what exactly the voice was. It wasn't loud or soft, high or low, it sounded melodic yet monotone. He searched the room for some sort of speakers, but was unsuccessful. He spun around, as if to see an invisible person standing there.

I bet you're wondering why we showed you that hospital memory.

"I just want to know where I am." Blaine spoke, his voice bouncing off the walls. However, he still felt the burn of the anger and rage from the words of his parents.

You have so much pent up anger, Blaine. You need to learn to let things go.

"How can I? My parents constantly remind me of how much of a failure I am. No matter what I do it's never good enough!" Blaine started yelling. He punched at a nearby wall, when all of a sudden, a burst of flame shot out from his hand and made him fall backwards. "Holy shi-"

Anger will lead you down a dark path. Let it go Blaine.

"What the hell is going on?Flames just shot from my hands! That is not normal! Ohhhh my god. I-I can't do this." Blaine began to panic. He frantically looked for an exit, but he knew there would be none. He fell to the floor, putting his face in his hands. "Why is this happening to me?" Warm tears began to fill his eyes, but he refused to cry, to show weakness.

This is your problem, Blaine. You're too afraid to show any type of weakness, but to show emotion is to be human. Your father instilled in you that you're not a man if you show emotion. But you need to release that pent up energy somehow. Let all your emotion run free, you need to accept the reality of emotion before you learn to control it. You need to let go of all your negative energy, and accept the positive. Blaine, you've been through a lot of bad things in your life that has left both mental and physical scars, but move on from that and think about the good things in your life.

"Courage," Blaine remembered. He remembered, Kurt, and the Warblers, and now New Directions always supported him, even if his parents didn't. "But they're still my parents," he interjected, "I can't completely forget about them."

We're not asking you to, just replace the negative with the positive.

All of a sudden, he felt something grip his arm, and before he could see who, or what, it was, he blacked out from the injection it gave him.

"Dude, seriously, how do you not find any of these girls hot?" Blaine heard a voice say. The room materialized before him, and he saw that it was his own. He saw his past self, who must have been around 12 (if he thought his 14 year old self's hair was horrible, then this Blaine's hair was nothing short of a disaster). He was sitting on his bed, while the voice came from the side of the bed on the floor. Blaine moved around and saw that it was his ex-best friend Kyle. They were just sitting around, while Kyle was paging through various magazines, and other!Blaine reading a book, occasionally picking up whatever magazine his friend would toss up on the bed.

"I just don't find them attractive," Blaine said paging through some special bikini issue, "Maybe I'm just a late bloomer you know? It happens."

Kyle gave out an exasperated sigh. "I just don't get you sometimes." Other!Blaine just ignored him and kept turning the pages. He stopped at a page in the middle of the magazine, and his eyes got a gleam and darkened as it scanned the page. Blaine went to see what stopped him. Oh, now he remembers. The page had a woman in a very skimpy bikini, and not very good looking, but dear god that male model was attractive. "Ew, her?" Kyle said as he also saw that Blaine had stopped and was clearly attracted to something. Other!Blaine quickly put the magazine down and took a deep breath. Blaine remembered what was going to happen next, his famous last words.

"Do you think you can keep a secret?"

"Yeah, sure."

"I think I'm," Other!Blaine paused and said in a whisper, "gay."

Sweat dripped off of Blaine as he woke up. His wings wrapped around him like a cocoon, and he unfurled them slowly, stretching them out. He got up and blinked, adjusting to the ever-present bright lights. Although, something seems different. His eyes seemed more sensitive, yet the lights didn't bother him as much. He began to take in new things he couldn't see before, new colors that hadn't been invented yet.

I take it that it took you awhile to be able to trust someone again?

"Yeah," Blaine said absent mindedly as he was turning around, breathing heavily and smiling. "What's happening now? Everything feels different."

Your power is growing. This memory didn't bother you as much as the last one, what happened afterwards?

"Kyle told anybody who would listen about how there's a fag in their presence, and that's when the bullying started." Blaine said emphasizing the slur with bitterness, "it hurt for a long time. You're right, I couldn't trust anybody for a while. When I went to Dalton I refused to make friends in fear that the same thing would happen again. But everyone was so kind to me, I eventually learned that not everybody was out to get me. Then I met Kurt, and I was able to have a best friend again."

This boy means a lot to you, you mention him many times.

Blaine remembered what Kurt said to him before he was taken. "Yes, he means everything to me." Blaine saw a shadow out of the corner of his eye and spun around quickly, but not before he received another injection.

You're such a quick learner, Blaine. We like that.

Blaine walked down the hallway quickly, he knew where he was, and given the past two memories he was given, he had a feeling he knew what night this was also. His old school was terrifying during the day, and even worse during the night. His walk turned into a run, and sprinted through the maze of hallways, trying to remember where the back entrance was. He wished more than anything right now he could interact with his past selves, he needed to give a warning. But he got there too late. He found himself being cornered by the three bullies, their leader being Joseph Williams. He tried so hard to block this memory, to forget it ever happened.

"Hey fag! What are you doing here so late, giving favors to teachers?" Joseph spat while his two sidekicks laughed loudly. Other!Blaine tried to shrink into the corner as much as he could. It pained Blaine to see himself like this, an empty shell of himself caused by months of bullying. The slurs, the shoves, it took a toll on him. And he had no one to go to, he had no friends, his parents wouldn't understand, even the principal wouldn't listen. ("Now why would Joseph Williams, the darling of this school, star of the state champion soccer team, absolutely-fucking-perfect in every way, bully a nobody like you?" Blaine remembers him saying, well maybe in not so many words, he may be paraphrasing a bit.) He never knew what type of bullying would come next, everything escalated so quickly. Other!Blaine breathed in deeply, and both could smell the alcohol in the air. "Now we just won a big basketball game, I think it's time to celebrate." Joseph grinned and moved closer to Blaine. He shoved him out of the corner, then picked him up and threw him against the lockers. Blaine could feel the pain in his back, as if he was the one being thrown, not his counterpart. The bullies surrounded other!Blaine while he was on the ground, and began kicking at every part they could reach. Blaine could hear and feel the bones of his ribs cracking, and it became harder to breathe. Other!Blaine tried to get up and get away, but he couldn't move. Meanwhile Blaine fell to his knees, the pain almost being too much to bear. Joseph stopped them after a few seconds which felt like eternity. "Let's really give him something to remember us by." He said as he pulled out a swiss army knife. He put the cool blade on the warm skin and began to cut. The feeling of the blade in his skin again was almost too much for Blaine to handle,

"Stop! Please stop!" He screamed. The blood began to drip down his back. The scene began to get fuzzy and started fading...

"Get me out. I don't want to do this anymore." Blaine immediately got up, not needing any time for adjustment. "I don't understand what you're doing to me. I never asked for this." His wings began to flap wildly, "I can't stand this anymo—oohh my god!" He yelped as he realized his feet left the ground. Somehow, he found a steady beat and raised himself higher and glided around. Blaine didn't know whether to be terrified or to smile, because holy shit, he was flying.

Everything you see is for your own good. You need to learn.

He tried to gently lower himself to the ground, but instead ended up falling in a heap. "I'm going to have to work on that," he muttered.

You're going to have to work on a lot of things.

"Ha." Blaine sarcastically said. "It's just that, these things you are showing reopen old wounds and it's making me so angry!" Blaine made a cutting motion with his hands and fire burst from his palms. He startled back, and with a small wave made the flame small enough to fit in his palm. "This is my ability, isn't it? Fire. Huh." He said as he manipulated the fire around, playing with it. "So that pile of ash from awhile ago, I did that didn't I? It was the chair that I was strapped in."

You catch on fast.

"I honestly don't think this could get any weirder." But Blaine spoke too soon, the figure came back. Blaine quick threw the fire in its direction, but it was too fast. It darted in between Blaine's attacks, and soon he found himself being stabbed in the arm.

Again.

"I don't understand why everything is my fault now Bill!"

"Because of you our family name is tainted!"

Blaine saw that he was in his bedroom again, and saw his younger self, although not much younger, judging by the hair, this was after the Dalton transfer, sitting on the bed, curled up into a ball.

"You babied him too much, you're too sympathetic towards him. He's too soft. That's why he's the way he is."

"Well I'm sorry that I actually care about our children!"

This scene was different than the other memories. All the other ones he could remember the exact time when it took place, but this one he couldn't. He left the room and walked toward the noise. 'Probably because mom and dad had this argument almost every night.' He thought to himself. He walked into the study where they always were, and saw them throwing over exaggerated arm movements, and their faces were red. Blaine remembers when he tried to tell them to stop, it wasn't worth it, please he never meant for it to go this way, and his dad threw his mom's favorite vase at the wall next to him. He never attempted to try to reason out their arguments again. Instead, he hid away from his family every day, only coming out of his room to eat, even then sometimes he lied that he had a big lunch and skipped dinner. Some other times, he risked going to the living room, to practice piano. He went into that room and sat on the piano bench. His mother taught him piano, he remembers, before he destroyed their family.

Then the scene changed. Instead of it being dark out, it was bright and sunny. Sunlight streamed through the windows. Blaine found himself sitting next to his mother, who was sitting next to his 3 year old self. Other!Blaine was bouncing exciedly with the upbeat melody his mother was playing. As she finished he said,

"Mommy, I want to learn to play too! But I don't think I'll ever be as good as you." His mom smiled warmly, which brought tears to Blaine's eyes, he hasn't seen his mom smile like that in years. They were happy once, but those memories are almost forgotten.

"You can, but only if you practice." She said. She then reached down and began to tickle Blaine in the sides. They both laughed and laughed, until Blaine jumped up on his mom and threw his arms around her. Only when they started hugging, did Blaine realize tears were streaming down his cheeks, and he was laughing along with his mother and past self. The scene started to fade,

"Please, no, I actually like this memory!"

Blaine opened his eyes and immediately sensed something was wrong. The figure was there in the room already. Blaine started throwing fire at it, trying different movement, discovering what made his power stronger. But this time, the figure fought back. It attacked Blaine with some sort of energy, but Blaine was able to detect every movement. Somehow he was able to use all senses with his eyes, Blaine later realized, he couldn't explain it, but somehow, someway, that's exactly what it felt like. He blocked every attack with his wings, now just as tall as he was, and attacked at every open opportunity. It was an un-choreographed dance, there was no way to tell what amount of time was spent fighting, minutes, hours, days. Until at last, Blaine was able to hit his opponent. It was laying there, and as Blaine approached it, he relaxed, and it disappeared.

You learned.

Blaine turned around, the voice was behind him, instead of in his head. "That was you wasn't it?"

Perhaps. Now turn around, you are free to go.

"Are you sure? I'm pretty sure there are some other painful memories floating around my head somewhere," he said, voice dripping only slightly with sarcasm. No answer. Blaine turned around and saw a door, and walked towards it. But he was hesitant to open it. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind, what was he doing here? Did he have some sort of purpose? Maybe there was a plan for him, and everything he went through was for something. So he took a deep breath, grabbed the door handle, and opened it.

Blaine entered the garden area and looked for Lizzie. He noticed the trees were taller, the flowers bigger, and now there were some other more exotic plants growing. There wasn't much time to take in the area because he was quickly embraced by Lizzie.

"Oh goodness, it looks like you've grown ten years instead of just one. I'm so glad you're back, I hope it wasn't too hard on you." She squeezed him tightly.

"A year? I was in there for a year? That long?" Blaine didn't realize it, but he did feel older and a stronger person.

"That's a short amount of time, some people have been in there for years, I've even heard of someone staying there for decades even. Come, I need to catch you up on everything." She began to explain who was new and who was taken away for giving in. Being around people again made Blaine self-conscious, as if they knew what happened to him in the past year. He didn't let it get to him because he learned, he now knows how to replace to negative with the positive, and he was sure he was going to use the new skill a lot.

They are ready.

How do you know?

We just do.

And if they fail?

Then this world is doomed.

The entire community was abuzz when Blaine woke up one day. When he entered the cafeteria, there was more chatter than usual. He could see the happiness surrounding the room. He sat down next to Charlotte, a small 6 year old girl whom Lizzie has gotten attached to. She sat there waiting for Lizzie to bring her food, when she exclaimed,

"They're going to let people go!"

Blaine sat thee dumbfounded by her statement until Lizzie sat down and expanded on Charlotte's statement, "Apparently they're going to integrate us back into society. Can you imagine? Being back out there again! Everybody has been waiting for this day for so long."

Blaine saw a new color then: hope. It filled him, the people, the room. Something that was so lost to him a year ago, came back full force. It was so hard to believe, part of him didn't want to get his hopes up, in case it was a cruel, sick test.

"When? Who?" So many questions ran through his mind.

"We don't know, but it's so hard to believe," Lizzie grinned, almost like mind reading him.

When Blaine went back to his room, he found an envelope on his bedside table. He sat on his bed and slowly opened it, but as soon as he read what was said, he fell to the ground.

He was going home.

When Blaine found Lizzie the next day, it was clear she did not receive the same news he got. She was just sitting on a bench by one of the small flower plots, just staring and the flowers. He sat down next to her not saying anything.

"You got a letter, didn't you?" She asked. Blaine tried to recognize the colors of her emotion, but no avail, there were too many. He nodded. "Good for you," she replied, her voice kind.

"I could tell them about you, tell them I saw you." Blaine offered. Lizzie just shook her head.

"When I saw I didn't get the letter, I thought about it. But I've been dead to them for ten years, Blaine. Burt has remarried, and Kurt, Kurt has you. It just wouldn't be fair to have them know I'm alive but not be able to see me, especially after everything they've gone through. I hope you understand." Blaine realized, yes, this was true. Maybe it would be better for Kurt and his dad to not know. "Also, I've taken Charlotte under my wing, no pun intended, and there's so many people here now I consider family, it would be hard to leave some of them."

"I understand." Blaine quietly said.

"When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow."