Sorry for taking so long on this chapter. Thank you to all the people who have read my story, and gave me reviews. Thank you to all the people who put me on alert and put me on their favorites. I love you all!

I do not own Glee or Dalton

Chapter 2

"You have to tell him. He needs to know." Brennan pushed. "It probably won't even be that bad. I bet he'll be happy for you." Brennan was sitting in the Windsor house common room, talking to his troubled housemate.

Alan looked at his friend incredulously. "Knowing dad, he's going to want to give her a freaking exorcism! Which believe me, she cannot handle right now."

Brennan laughed a little at this. "Come on, I'm sure Dahlia would hold him back a little. Or you could always just sedate him. Slip him some Nyquil, no one will have to know," he suggested jokingly, miming putting something in food.

"I could, but I don't even know where he is. And dad doesn't like it when I bother him." Alan shrugged as if there was nothing more he could do.

"You know exactly where he is." Brennan stated flatly. "Dwight is with all of our parents at their annual celebration for getting rid of us for 9 months at school." Brennan took out his cell. "No more excuses. Call. Now." he commanded, motioning for the boy across from him to take the phone.

Alan sighed, and just reached into his pocket for his own phone. He quickly found his father in the contacts and hit call. It went straight to voice-mail. Alan hung up. Brennan looked confused. "And...?"

Alan shook his head, hair falling in his face. "Voicemail. And I'm not leaving a message for this sort of news." His blue eyes looked tired. "I've got to go study." He left Brennan sitting by himself in the common room.

Brennan just sat there, not moving. He had a lot on his mind, and it was wearing him down. It wouldn't be so bad if he could unload everything on someone, but when you keep everybody's secrets, whom do you turn to for your own? It was like being a therapist without the paycheck. Brennan thought about his next piece of art. He was thinking of doing a sculpture. Maybe one of those polygonal prisms that seem to change shape and size as you view it from different angles. The gray-eyed boy liked the idea of changing perspectives.

For the next hour or so, Brennan would continue to sit, not focused on anything, just letting his mind drift.

Forrest was slouching in an auditorium chair, watching as one person after another took the stage. It was try-out week, and every boy who thought he had so much as a molecule of talent auditioned. This year, the drama teacher had selected Spamalot as the winter production. While most students had no clue as to what Spamalot was, Forrest had seen it twice. He was a huge Monty Python fan. The red haired boy felt this justified him getting the lead. Well, that and he had a natural gift of performing. The previous years, Forrest had just played in the band, too nervous to actually try out. But now that he was an upper-classman, there was some favor shown.

As a particularly bad rendition of 'Where Are You?' finished, the director called out for all people who were auditioning for King Arthur to report backstage. One by one, the students sung their piece. Almost everyone sang 'King Arthur's Song'. Forrest knew this was going to happen, so he had practiced 'I'm All Alone', so as to distinguish himself among his mediocre classmates. He was the second to last person in line to go. The boy behind him laughed to himself as yet another 'King Arthur's Song' was played.

"This is a school full of geniuses, but I seem to be the only one who thought of singing a different song." the last person remarked. Forrest turned around at that. He didn't like the idea of someone else singing the same song as him. It was the whole reason he had picked the nonstandard piece.

"Actually, you're not the only one. I'm singing 'I'm All Alone' as my solo." Forrest told the other boy, who raised his eyebrows. His spiked black hair seemed to add another inch to his already impressive height. He looked surprised, but not nervous.

"Really? Glad to see there's someone with a little experience here today. Or are you just clever?" the boy tilted his head to the side, looking curious. He felt as if he had seen this redhead somewhere before, but he couldn't figure out where.

"A little of both, you could say." Forrest felt a little threatened by the much taller male next to him. Never one to be intimidated, however, he looked right up and into the eyes of his competition. Forrest noticed they had an almost golden hue to them. They reminded him of his girlfriend, Jennifer, and her golden eyes. Jennifer had wanted to be there to see him audition, but there was no way she could leave Dobry. Forrest had also assured her that she wasn't missing anything, just tons of people singing terribly.

The tall boy smiled. "I see. Well, I'm singing the same song." Forrest started to frown. "Hey, I have a brilliant idea. We should sing it as a duet." when Forrest hesitated, he continued "Come on, it'll be fun. Plus this way we know Ms. Mohes will remember us."

Forrest saw this as his opportunity to show up and bring down this boy. He grinned. "Alright. Deal." the pair shook hands. "I'm sorry, but I don't know your name." Forrest remarked, thinking back through all the people he knew from his school.

"That's fine. I don't know yours either. Mines Tyler, but most people call me Ty." The two introduced themselves. They quickly coordinated the duet, who would sing each part, which lines they would sing together. Forrest made small talk about class and sports before the conversation lapsed into silence. That's when Ms. Mohes called for the next person, who happened to be Forrest. "Ready?" Ty asked.

Forrest nodded. "Ready."

Two students walked onstage. Most of the auditorium was empty, a few seats occupied by boys with nothing better to do, and the drama teacher. "I'm Forrest Anderson-Van Kamp," the first student announced.

"And I'm Tyler Baiseford. We will be auditioning for the part of King Arthur." the second one finished. Ms. Mohes started to protest, but the first boy motioned to the piano player to start. The music began and before the teacher could stop him, Forrest started to sing.

"I'm all alone

All by myself

There is no one here beside me"

Tyler picked up the tune when Forrest left off.

"I'm all alone

Quite all alone

No one to comfort me or guide me"

It was the first time either had each other sing. They were both good, causing each to try harder to trump the other.

"Why is there no one here with me

On this long and winding road

To lift my heavy load"

Forrest sang with more passion this time. He tried to act sad and a little oblivious, as the scene called for. Ty watched his partner, then turned away from him, singing his lines.

"If there were someone here with me

How happy I would be"

Forrest walked in front of Ty here, blocking Ms. Mohes's view of his competitor.

"But I'm alone"

Tyler jumped ahead of Forrest, continuing the song

"Quite all alone"

Forrest stepped in the way of Ty again

"All by myself-"

"I'm all-"

"Alone"

The pair continued to get in the way of each other, until the chorus.

"I'm all alone"

Ty sang with melancholy feeling.

"He's all alone"

Forrest sung, rolling his eyes. He cursed himself for letting Ty take the lead, while he had Patsy's part. Making his voice louder, Forrest stepped towards Tyler and waited. He was not going to be just an echo.

"All by myself"

"Except for me"

"I cannot face tomorrow"

"He cannot face it"

"I'm all alone"

"Though I am here"

"So all alone"

"So very near"

"No one to share my sorrow"

The duet partners strained their voices, trying to be the loudest without screaming or cracking. They sang the last line together, and Ms. Mohes stood up clapping. "I think we've found our Arthur!"

Forrest and Ty grinned, both thinking the same thing. One problem. Ms. Mohes didn't say whom she was taking about.

Darren typed 120 words per minute, but it still wasn't fast enough. He needed a direct line from his brain to Microsoft Word so he could get his ideas down and not forget them. When you have characters running around and screaming in your head, you don't have time to hit keys.

"Slow down, man. You're going to get keyboard burn." Matt was used to the intense way his friend typed. But he still had to remind Darren to pace himself or the keyboard would get jammed again. And he did not want a repeat of what was now referred to as the "The Great Keyboard Catastrophe". That had not been a good day.

"Shut up." was Darren's only response. Matt rolled his eyes. You would think, just looking at the casual junior, that he was someone you could strike up any easy conversation with.

"You should get one of those dictation things that writes down what you say automatically." Matthew suggested, slipping a piece of paper from the notebook in his lap.

"Shut up." Darren said again. He became a lot less approachable when he was writing. The blonde boy had still yet to look up from his screen, so he didn't notice Matt gently crumpling his paper into a ball.

A slow smile spread across Matthews face. "Hey Darren. Guess what? I have a-"

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" Darren cried. And then Matt threw his paper ball. It hit his friend square in the forehead and fell onto the computer, covering the screen. The head full of curls looked up, revealing a red mark from the impact. Darren had murder in his eyes. He saw Matt snickering from across the room. "Get out." Matt made a run for the door, knowing that when pushed, Darren could get violent. Once safely out the door and in the hall, he burst out laughing and Darren could hear him guffawing all the way down the hall.

The junior shook his head. He often wondered why he didn't just go live in Hanover. Even the Stuartian pressure cooker would be more suitable for his passion. There, he could get more than 5 unadulterated minutes to himself. As it is, he already sent a lot of his work to some friends in Hanover to read and edit. Thanks to Gryphyn and Calder, Darren had already completed 4 books. The Hanover pair kept their Windsor friend sane.

It was just then that a little chat bubble popped up on Darren's screen. Every day at exactly 4:30 Gryphyn would Skype chat his friend to make sure he was okay. They would talk for one hour, until Gryph took his shower, then left to eat dinner at precisely 6:00. Calder got the night shift for sanity watch, as he was a much less militant.

Darren replied to Gryphyn without even reading the message. It said the same thing as it always had, everyday for nine months for the last three years "r u ok?" to which he responded accordingly. "Other than a red forehead, yes"

Almost immediately after sending, the other boy simply asked "?"

"paper ball, Matthew." Who and what. It was the standard format. The Hanovers kept a running list of all the things thrown at Darren, and whom they were thrown by. The list had everything from paper airplanes to clocks to mashed potatoes. It also included the time the geometry teacher had thrown a rather large foam disdyakis cube at him to get him to stop typing. The teacher was not reprimanded because everyone else had the same problem, including his parents, who had no interest in pressing charges.

"47x now. Just by Matthew."

"Ik." Darren could keep the list and running total in his head thanks to his eidetic memory. "im thinking of investing in one of those plastic bubbles"

"haha. how's book 5 coming?"

"frustrating. sometimes theyre silent, sometimes they just won't be quiet. And I think the characters find it amusing to wake me at odd hours for writing. Especially this new one. It seems her main goal is to keep me from sleeping."

"Makes me think of a certain pair of freshman twins..."

"Ugh. Don't remind me..."

"I hear Anna and iris r just as crazy at Dobry. Something bout pretending to be each other"

"If u say their names to many times they appear" Darren half joked, not really in the mood to talk about the source of a great amount of stress in his life. It had only been a week since school began but already many people wanted to call up the Brightmans and demand Ian and Alex be transferred far, far away.

"Then I should really stop talking shouldn't I?" Gryphyn typed back, laughing a little. He wondered if the joke had some truth to it. Gryph wouldn't be surprised if it did.

Ian and Alex were, at that particular moment, wandering around in a very large and very cold room on the fourth floor of Windsor. It had been such a long time since anyone had set foot where they were standing that a thick layer of dust coated everything. This place was the stuff of legends. Perhaps not legends other people knew, but around the Brightman household, this room was magic.

The pair were standing in the Caterpillar's lair. Now almost completely empty, the cousins tilted their heads and wondered why their fathers had enjoyed spending time here. As far as they could tell, it was just a big room. There was some archaic technology piled in the corner. A few cords were left on the floor, and in many places wires were sticking out of the wall. It was a sorry sight.

Little did they know, they were being watched by the infamous Caterpillar himself. Han had hooked up a camera in his old dorm before he graduated, and just left it running. He wanted to make sure the place that had kept him so wonderfully sheltered from the outside world was treated with the utmost respect. Han was sure the old gang would get a kick out of the twins living in the lair. It would be his contribution to this year's reunion.

"I think we should move up here." Ian stated, looking up to the rafters. The rooms ceiling was actually the roof. Somehow, Han had managed to connect the rooms on either side and above his and turn it into a sort of penthouse.

"Agreed. The trampoline can go in the corner." Alex nodded, turning round in a circle, mentally measuring and planning where everything would go.

"The game console would fit brilliantly on the far wall."

"And if I'm not mistaken, with a little sound proofing, we could finally use the "Back To The Future" amp."

"Do I see a closet back there that would fit our Nerf artillery?"

"The best part: Mr. Piggenheimer could stay here, with no one knowing." Mr. Piggenheimer was Ian and Alex pet pot bellied pig. The whole family had searched for a school that allowed pet pigs. There were none.

The blonde freshmen walked out of the room, and back down the stairs to find their prefect. Now that they knew what they wanted, no one was going to stop them from moving into what would soon become known as "the brightcave".

A floppy haired junior was quickly walking across campus. He was heading towards the sports center, wanting to fit in a quick swim before he grabbed dinner and started his homework. He once again pushed back the brown hair from his eyes and started to mutter to himself. "Always creeping on Brennan. I wish he would just leave us all alone. He needs to go back to Stuart where he belongs."

Eric picked up his pace, as he grew more worked up. "He knows we don't like him. Why does he always try to push his way into our lives?" now jogging, Eric reached the glass doors of the complex and yanked them open. Bee-lining it for the locker room, he didn't even notice his swim team buddies wave to him. They just shook their heads as he passed, and gave each other knowing looks. It was one of THOSE days.

Eric changed it record time, and rushed into the pool area. Breaking almost every rule about conduct and behavior when near water and cement, he raced forward and dove headfirst into the cool water. Letting the momentum carry him, Eric touched the other side of the pool and came up for air.

The water felt wonderful. Eric took a deep breath, and began swimming laps. Back and forth he went, gaining speed. He pushed himself to go faster still. On his 15th lap, he overshot and hit his head against the cement wall of the pool. Stopping to rub the top of his scalp, he looked around. He was alone.

Eric flipped onto his back and floated. He could feel the pain subsiding, his muscles relaxing. He closed his eyes and unclenched his jaw. Swimming was his stress release. That was the main reason he was so good at it. Living in Windsor, you were either completely mad, and therefore without stress, or sane, and completely overwhelmed with stress. He could put all his anger and pent up energy into his stokes. This way it was harmless and he actually accomplished something.

Just drifting, Eric thought about the source of today's swim. He had never liked Aden. The more he was around him, the less he got along with him. But he had enough self-control to not to lose it and start yelling at Aden. Or at least, he used to. But now that he and Brennan were getting too close, it was harder.

Aden was such a pathetic loser in Eric's opinion. Aden had two friends, Brennan and Fabian. One he followed around like a puppy and the other, well the other one was just as bad as him. Eric believed Fabian had no fire, no purpose. He was just there. But at least he didn't try to talk to or be friends with Eric. Aden was always giving him advice and trying to start a conversation. It was just a constant flow of useless, annoying, and completely neutral remarks. Eric just wanted to explode at him, and tell him to either be quiet, or get something to say.

Today had been the worst. Aden walked up to Eric after biology and started asking about swimming. "Brennan says you think every guy should have a sport. I don't have one. Do you think I could join the swim team? It might be fun for us to have an activity together. We could get to know each other better." Eric had just stared at the blonde boy.

"No." he had told Aden simply, and then started to walk away. But Aden had followed him. He kept asking why he couldn't join. And then he went and told Brennan what he had said. Brennan, being the righteous person he was, confronted Eric. He forced him into letting Aden try out. Brennan even made him promise to put in a good word for Aden. However, Eric had no qualms about breaking promises. Glancing at the clock and seeing it was almost six, Eric sighed heavily and climbed out of the pool. He toweled off and trudged back into the locker room to shower and change before dinner.

Fabian had been making his way to the Warblers' hall when he saw Eric jogging in the direction of the sports center. Fabian just shook his head, knowing what it meant. Eric was pissed again, and once again it was Aden who had caused the problem. He didn't understand why Aden didn't just tell everyone and get it over-with, instead of this trying to win everyone over. But whatever, it was not his choice to make. No, his choices mainly involved what song he was going to sing for the lead. Something older and more classical, or something modern? Those decisions alone where enough for Fabian, with trillions of songs to pick from. He didn't need anything more to worry about.

If Fabian was one of those people who worried about every single problem every single person had, he would have been reduced to a puddle of mush long, long ago. As a result of the general distance Fabian kept from almost everyone, he saw a lot of what people missed. He was always around, but no one noticed him. The boy was just another background character in the show that was their lives. The green-eyed boy often mused on his situation. He was an observer. And he had dirt on everyone. Fabian was usually one of the first to know anything, and could always call what was going to happen. Life hardly surprised him anymore.

Fabian wanted to be shocked. He wanted to be astonished. He wanted something to happen that he couldn't predict. And that's what he got. Walking towards the Dalton fences in his roundabout way to hop over and walk around outside campus, he saw a small girl with glasses standing in front of the Dalton Museum. She looked both awe-struck and lost. Always someone to help out, Fabian approached her. "Can I help you? Are you lost?"

"Wha-?" she half said, tearing her eyes from staring up at the imposing building. Turning around, she almost bumped into Fabian. "Oh. Hi." she looked up at him and smiled. "No, I'm fine. I've just never seen anything quite so impressive." the boy looked surprised, the museum wasn't that great after all. As if reading his mind, she explained, "I come from a really small town. Like, maybe 250 population, farming in the middle of Iowa, small." Fabian just nodded.

"Oh. I was just wondering, because I haven't seen you before, and I know almost everyone who comes to this museum." Fabian looked down at his feet, and shifted uncomfortably. Not knowing what else to do, he made up an excuse to leave. "Anyway, I should probably go. Homework and stuff." The girl just nodded, and they both started to walk away.

"Wait." she called. He stopped and looked. "What's your name?"

"Fabian. What's yours?"

"Theresa."

At that moment, a taller, thinner, older female opened the door and walked out. "What are you doing? Why aren't you inside? I don't care if you are a genius, you don't just wander off without me! Can I help you?" she yelled, first at Theresa, then at Fabian. She was glaring at him, waiting for an answer. Fabian was too focused on her hair to notice or care. It was royal blue. "Excuse me! Would you please bugger off!" When Fabian still didn't respond, she walked right up to him and waved her hand in his face. "Earth to what-ever-your-name-is! Don't you know it's not polite to stare?"

'Bold.' was Fabian's first reaction. His next one was to take two steps back. "I'm sorry. I kind of zoned out there. I wasn't staring." the blue haired girl rolled her eyes. Up-close, she was disheveled. She had dark, smudged make up and her dirty, torn clothes clung to her akwardly. "Honestly. I had just asked your friend if she was lost, but she said she wasn't so I left. Then she asked my name. And then you came out and started screaming." the boy explained, a bit intimidated by such a forward person. The girl looked back at her friend, still standing on the steps to the museum. When Theresa nodded confirmation, the girl backed off.

"Ah. Well, okay then. Sorry to yell at you. But you really shouldn't stare." Of course, her saying that didn't stop Fabian from doing it. Jogging back up the stairs, she hooked her arm in Theresa's and started to lead her into the building. However, Theresa stopped her and whispered something in the older girl's ear, gesturing to Fabian. She just nodded and turned back to him. "For future reference, I'm Sparrow." Then the pair entered the museum, leaving Fabian standing alone outside, completely stunned.