The Warblers finished the representative song from the 1960s, "Ain't no mountain high enough," in which David took the solo. Sure enough, Wes had introduced him as a senior who had been accepted early decision to Williams, where he was going to study international economic development, and added a joke about how David was going to raise the bar from "one laptop per child" to "one Mitrel-chip laptop per man, woman, and child," Mitrel being the company his father had founded.

After the first three songs, there was a break for the singers while the Financial Development director gave a presentation on progress towards doubling the endowment. Kurt extricated himself from the group as quickly as he could and looked for another bathroom further down the hall, where he could be alone for a few minutes. He found it and sat down on the small bench inside.

It doesn't matter, he reminded himself bleakly. It doesn't matter and you don't care. So why did it sting so much, why was it such a slap in the face? He asked the logical part of his brain the question and didn't get an answer.

The door opened with a creak and somebody turned the lights on. He scrambled to his feet and saw a puzzled David. "Kurt? Why were you sitting here in the dark? You did great, everybody was very impressed."

"Kurt? That's my name, not 'Trophy'? I never would have guessed." He hadn't meant to let it out, but now that he was spilling his guts, David's look of incomprehension made it even harder to keep his facade up, and it didn't even seem that much worth the bother. "You didn't notice? Everybody else was introduced as a person, me, I was introduced as your Trophy." He laughed shortly and without amusement. "I'm surprised that Wes mentioned even part of my name and didn't just call me a conversation piece."

David held up a hand while he seemed to be thinking for a moment. "All right, I can see that you're upset. It was insensitive of Wes and I'll have a word with him, but it wasn't intentional."

Kurt felt his anger disappearing, but replaced with more of the same desolation as before. "I know it wasn't intentional. And please, don't talk to him about it."

"Why not? I'm sure that he'd apologize that it was tactless."

Kurt sighed. "Yes...but it wouldn't mean anything. It's done and I just want to forget it. If you hadn't come in, I never would have said anything."

"Look, Kurt, I understand that it wasn't pleasant for you." David actually looked perturbed.

"Please. Just forget it." Kurt washed his hands and walked out, holding his head high and fixing his usual quarter-smile firmly on his lips.

The rest of the evening was fortunately uneventful since Kurt didn't think that he could stand anything else. He occasionally saw David looking at him thoughtfully but at least he didn't say anything or do anything, beyond a quick clap on the shoulder and "You did a great job" when Blaine and Kurt split off for their dorm during the walk back.

"Anything wrong?" Blaine asked. "You're being very quiet." He stopped and faced Kurt, tracing his lips with a finger.

Kurt shook his head. "Just a little tired."

Blaine stepped closer and murmured in his ear, "Early to bed, then." He chuckled and took one of Kurt's hands to briefly lick across the back of his knuckles. "The next half of the proverb is 'Early to rise' and I know I can provide that part." He moved in for a kiss, stroking Kurt's tongue with his own and pressing against him. When he pulled back, he was smiling with heavy lids as though he was already sated. "There is one thing that I need to tell you. When we were onstage, I was looking at you, how your hair picked up the light, how sleek you looked, how gorgeous...and I realized how much I love you."

Kurt looked at him in consternation, not having the least idea how to respond. In a flash he realized that he'd rather endure almost anything rather than lie and say that he loved Blaine. But at the same time, Blaine put a light finger on his mouth. "No, no, I'm not going to ask you to say anything. I only want you to know that I love you."

No, you don't, Kurt thought. No, you don't.

The next afternoon, Kurt asked, "What's David's girlfriend like?" as he held up two sets of streamer ribbons. The decorations were based on David's tastes since it was his birthday and none of them knew her very well, but before he used any more of the decorating budget, he wanted to make sure that there wouldn't be any terrible mismatches.

Blaine considered for a moment. "Well, Lynne's very friendly...lively, pretty, she's blonde with blue eyes, very athletic..."

"You don't like her much, do you?" Kurt felt safe enough asking that, by the way that Blaine's eyes were wandering the room as if he were looking for something else nice to say about her.

Blaine burst out laughing. "It shows that much, hmm? Well, not that I was really hiding it, I trust you not to go around saying it." He sobered up. "I don't like her and it's honestly not that I have unrealistic standards for David's girlfriends. She's all so very friendly on the surface, but underneath, it's all about Lynne. Raj's sister goes to her school and says that she is absolutely a control freak and if she doesn't like somebody, she makes sure that they don't socially exist. Maybe it's not fair to judge her since of course that's just one side of the story, but I could believe it."

"That's too bad."

"It really is. He truly deserves the best and I don't like suspecting that if he's ever inconvenient or says something that she doesn't like, she'd dump him faster than the speed of light." Blaine picked up his Kindle again, saying, optimistically, "Maybe I'm wrong though. I hope it's only that he sees something in her that we can't."

"We?"

Blaine smiled sheepishly. "Yeah...Raj doesn't think much of her, of course, and Andreas thinks she was really giving him the eye when somebody joked that his middle name was Mars for the candy company family and not because his parents are a bit goofy about space exploration."

"His middle name is really Mars?"

"I couldn't make that up. But at least it's not his first name."

"Do I want to know if he has brothers or sisters and what their middle names are?"

"His older brother got Jupiter and his sister's middle name is Venus."

"It could be worse."

"Yeah, there's that one planet in particular. Or Pluto, that would be bad, to have your middle name recalled." Blaine got up and stretched. "But to get back to the original issue, she always wears a little black dress, so that will be perfect." He raised his head to check his watch. "Finally, it's 3:00 California time." It was Marcus' birthday and Blaine had been fidgety all day to call him.

"Hi, Marcus, happy birthday!"

"Did you get the books?"

"I picked them all from my own favorites."

"I really want to hear how you like The Lord of the Rings."

"Oh, you'd already read Seabiscuit? Did you like it?"

"Yeah, you really shouldn't get homework on your birthday."

"Well, happy birthday, Marcus, I can't wait to see you at Easter."

"Bye."

Blaine hung up and put the phone down very gently, as if it were a small living creature. The broad smile on his face had almost entirely faded and he looked down for a few moments as if lost in thoughts or memories, then sighed very slightly. Kurt realized that this was one of the very few times since his arrival that Blaine had been entirely oblivious to him, didn't seem to be at all attuned to his presence or alert to a potential word or movement. He welcomed it but at the same time it was disquieting, as though Blaine was somehow absent while still physically there.

He flipped open his world history book since he wanted to be sure not to let himself get behind for the next school term. He'd had just enough time to get into the leadup to World War One when Blaine silently came up behind him, spun the chair so that Kurt was facing him, and pulled him to his feet and into an avid, greedy kiss. When Blaine broke off the kiss, he kissed down to the base of his throat, pausing to murmur, "You're mine" as he started to undo his shirt.

"Well, thanks for trying, Jaime. I appreciate it." Will hung up, disappointed. His father's friend hadn't found anything potentially useful in the police records that he was able to access. Dalton's administration was clean, the Warblers were clean, and there weren't even any suggestions that anything was too clean or that anything had been hushed up. There was a DUI for one student and a few 911 calls made by a neighbor over potential domestic violence for another family, but no smoking gun. Not even any smoke.

At least McKinley would be safe for Kurt to come back to. Dave Karofsky had kept his word about transferring. Will had been surprised to see that when he came for his last day, he looked almost relieved, as though somehow the worst had happened and he found himself still standing. Will couldn't help but wonder if there was something else going on, but assumed that if there was something Kurt wanted him to know, he'd tell him or get word to him.

He was more concerned about Finn. He'd noticed circles under his eyes that hadn't gotten any better over time and that he was generally dragging, except for an almost feverish intensity when he was singing. Will had asked him several times, more pointedly each instance, if he was ill or if he needed to talk. The last time, at least, Finn had admitted that he wasn't sleeping well and agreed to come by his office during study hall.

"Hey, Mr. Schue."

"Come on in, Finn, have a seat."

Finn was fidgeting and Will decided to get straight to the point. "What can I do to help you?" He wasn't sure that it was the right question to ask, but it was what he needed to know.

Finn smiled bitterly, an expression that looked all too wrong on his face. "I don't think you can do anything." Will kept quiet and Finn continued, "You know, when his dad was dying, Kurt just kept on fighting and fighting. He wasn't going to give up or give in an inch." He laughed shortly. "If death were a person, he never would have dared to come within a yard of Burt. He was just like this little snarling dog in the hospital, he mortgaged the house, argued with everybody to try to get him the transplant, got some of the doctors to agree to help for free, even. But Burt still died."

Finn looked at Will with absolute terror in his eyes. "I always thought that if you fight hard enough, you win, that good things will happen. But they don't. His dad died, he lost every penny his parents saved, and now he's...there, he's the Trophy, and that's partly my fault, what if there are people that just don't win, ever? They just keep fighting and they lose. What if that's going to happen to me, too, or any of us? Kurt looked like he was going places and then all this, and what if Rachel is the next one that just gets squashed?" To Will's dismay, he looked at him as though he expected answers.

"Finn, I don't know." Finn turned away slightly, like a disappointed child, and it caught at Will's heart. "Nobody has a perfect reason for why things happen to good people or even why they happen at all. And I'm scared, too. I'm scared for each and every one of you and for myself, too.

"You guys have had to grow up so fast and so hard. Even if some of you have had pretty easy lives so far, you have to deal with what's sometimes harder, seeing somebody you care about going through hell. But the one thing I do see in all of you is that you're going to come out of this absolutely awesome. Maybe you'll be able to make things change in a way that we didn't when we were your age. I can't say that you will because I just don't know that. But I know that you're going to care and that you're going to fight."

Finn looked a bit comforted, but admitted, "Sometimes I want to give up. Sometimes I have a nightmare, a really bad one, they're hurting Kurt and he's screaming for help but I can't move, or somebody's dragging Rachel away and I can't reach her, and when I wake up, I just want to stay in bed all day, to hide under the covers and stay there, even if it's morning."

"But you do get up."

"Well, yeah, but..."

"And you shower and get dressed and brush your teeth and come to school." Finn nodded. "And you come to Glee. I think that's where having routines helps us, that and knowing that maybe we're that bit of strength that another person needs."

"I guess so."

"So do I, Finn." He paused. "Oh, and Finn? Give me 30 pushups."

Sue barked at Quinn, "Well, all you're doing there in my doorway is blocking the light. Come in or leave but don't stand in the middle." Sue Sylvester does not tolerate half-measures.

Quinn came in and sat down. "I suppose you want to 'talk'," Sue commented, making air quotes around the word. Quinn nodded and Sue leaned back. "Well, then, talk."

Quinn opened her mouth but nothing came out. Sue decided that she needed some coaching. "Did you forget how to talk?"

"My parents say that Kurt deserves what's happening to him."

"I'm not surprised. So why are you telling me this?"

"I don't know what to say to them."

"How about that they're full of crap? They open their mouths and it's like a crap explosion? That if they opened their minds, which sounds like it's impossible, that the crap coming out would make Lima the bullshit capital of the world, even more than Washington, New York, or Geneva, Switzerland?" Sue fixed her with a stare. "That seems pretty straightforward to me."

"I can't say that to them!"

"Do you think it's true?"

"Well..."

"Do you think he deserves what's happening to him, and I'm guessing that they mean it's because he's gay, not because he uses as much moisturizer as Will Schuester uses hair gel and that it makes him look like a wet sponge with human skin superimposed on it? Does he deserve it?"

"No, no, he doesn't!"

"Does it bother you when your parents say he deserves it?"

"Yes!"

Sue wished for a moment that she could meet her intellectual equal, but reminded herself that it was a source of pride for her that she had none, with the possible exception of Stephen Hawking, and she had the hack codes to his wheelchair so she was undisputed victor there. "Do you want them to stop?"

"Yes, they're just...gloating over it. They pretend that they aren't but they are. And they know it hurts me but they keep doing it."

"So, your parents are bullies. You've been one, you should know them. So what works against bullies?"

"Ignoring them or slapping them down. But being consistent each time so they don't get intermittent rewards."

"Oh, so you were paying attention when I told you that. I usually can't tell if you're listening or if you're thinking about chewing some cud." Sue felt a dart of pride when Quinn ignored it, as she ignored all of Sue's recent barbs. "So what do you think you're going to do."

"I'm going to tell them that they're wrong and that they shouldn't enjoy another person's unhappiness." Quinn looked proud of herself and Sue got up.

"That's telling them." She paused. "Oh, and Quinn? If you insist, I'll say that you're doing the right thing and look as though I wouldn't be repulsed by hugging you."