He's not sure why, but tonight his seclusion is really overwhelming him. He's made efforts since he got here to make things better, but it's moments such as these in which he thinks he's not doing enough.

He has friends in the Warblers. Wes, Puck, Sebastian… but there's still a part of him that feels empty. He hopes he doesn't feel that way forever. It has been over a month since he started here, the crisp nights of January are long past, and settling in isn't an excuse anymore.

Blaine's finished his homework ages ago. He feels the blood rush to his head-a side effect from lying upside down- while he runs his fingers over the fibers of his and Sebastian's dorm room carpet.

It's a rough foundation, and the dizziness from his current position is starting to make him feel sick. Sebastian left for his lacrosse scrimmage not long ago, and Blaine's willing to bet that he wouldn't be very happy if he came back to witness another stain on the floor.

Blaine smiles as he pictures Sebastian trying to calm himself down. Like when Dane- Sebastian's favorite 'teammate'- stood him up for one of their dates, and he waited in the rain for an hour. Blaine had had to play him three songs on the piano in the Warblers lounge before he would even pretend to feel better for Blaine's sake.

Blaine doesn't like when Sebastian gets angry, but he does like how he, and apparently he alone, can get him to smile again. Puck had slipped Blaine that info during their last rehearsal, when Wes had chosen Nick instead of Sebastian for a solo. Sebastian was all frowns and mumbles, and Puck couldn't even make him laugh with the most vulgar of innuendos. 'Looks like you're up!' Puck whispered. Blaine only rolled his eyes, but ever since then Blaine couldn't deny that Puck was right.

It's definitely a welcoming distraction from his own thoughts, cheering his roommate up, and also a gentle reminder that it's possible for him to be happy again too.

Maybe Sebastian had placed a ghost image of 'okay' in his eyes also. How weird to think that Hazel could be as comforting as green.

Blaine's really dizzy now, so he decides it's time to relieve his head of some pressure. He slides off the bed and lays flat on the floor, ignoring the flashing sensation of a cool metal barrel placed flat against his forehead. Shirtless, he brings his arms in a crossed position beneath his chin and inhales.

Christmas.

What on Earth is he going to do for two more nights before school picks up again? He checks his watch. He can wander around Dalton's campus and hide himself in the library only so often before it drives him crazy. So, screw it, why not? Sebastian did say he needed to get out more. Puck had even attested to that.

He shoots off the ground and fishes blindly for a shirt to wear as the blood starts funneling back to the correct parts of his body. He settles on a purple button up to match his olive skin, and accessorizes with a black and white pinstriped bowtie. It feels good to dress up, he thinks. He turns sideways to make sure his waist looks right, and runs his fingers over the swell of his ass.

He frowns, inwardly scrutinizing himself for wanting to look good. He does, but he bites his lip anyway, wondering if Sebastian will make fun of his outfit. Sebastian's only seen him dress up once before, a week prior, and it didn't go so well. Blaine had been Skyping with his mother, and he'd barely been able to get him quiet enough to hear her.

He'd had to drown out Sebastian's tiny snickers and jests about being a Ken doll with forced laughter and fake smiles. His mom bought the charade. She was always a fairly clueless person, but as soon as he'd hung up he'd made sure his roommate received the nastiest look he could muster. Not before removing his bowtie, though.

Coming back from his musings, Blaine takes a deep breath. He's surprised he's still tan considering he barely ventures outside the walls of his comfortable prison. That's what Sebastian and Puck call it, but Blaine isn't sure he feels that way. Dalton, day to day, continuously proves it's 'safe,' just like his dad promised. It's safe and comfortable, and Blaine likes it that way.

Maybe if the boys spent a day at McKinley they would appreciate it more.

Literally shaking away his negative thoughts, Blaine checks his appearance once more and heads out the corridor to Dalton's lacrosse field.

It's colder than he expected and small goose pimples crawl across his flesh. He's never been to a lacrosse game so as soon as he finds Dalton's bleachers he makes a quick decision to scan the crowd.

There are tons of people there. Parents, girlfriends, friends- all clad in Dalton red and blue. The other team, he discovers, is purple and white.

Shit.

Humiliated he heads to Dalton's side anyway, positive he'll receive Sebastian's joke now, and plops down next to a stern looking man and what appears to be his son.

"On the wrong side, kid?"

Blaine jumps a little- partially from the sting of cold against his thighs, and partially because he knows the voice addressing him. He doesn't say anything as he scans his brain for its face.

The man recognizes him too, and for a moment they sit in silent anxiety before he breaks the tension. "Who're you here to see?"

Sebastian. Blaine thinks, your son. He smiles awkwardly, and bites his lip, chancing a small look at Sebastian's brother. They look alike, chestnut hair and green eyes, but Blaine can tell they're totally different. There's nothing he can read into, so he replies quietly, "My- uhm. My friend."

He wasn't supposed to run into his old life in a place like this. Detective Alan Smythe, he remembers, Westerville's finest.

He'd come down to question Blaine in Lima after the attack. His mother had requested it incase the men had chosen to flee. They hadn't found them yet, and the squad wanted all their bases covered should there be a repeat incident.

Blaine shivers and covers his arms tightly across his chest. Sebastian's dad. He plays with the sound of it for a little before he decides to come clean. "I'm here to see Sebastian, actually."

Detective Smythe doesn't even flinch. He just nods at Blaine, taking the hint, and alludes to the fact that he's heard good things about him from their son. "Sea Bass says he has yet to be late for a class," the old man laughs. "Heard you wake up pretty early."

"Oh," Blaine fidgets, "yeah, sorry, I guess I'm an early riser."

As soon as he realizes what he's said his eyes go wide, and Detective Smythe is smothering himself in laughter. Blaine swallows the dread, and looks down at his crossed arms, tapping his feet on the bleachers below.

Sebastian's brother, Adrien, tells Blaine that his number is 00, like he's never seen Sebastian come home from a practice or looked at the million pictures of his teammates spread around their room.

Blaine smiles, and says 'thanks' he'll keep a lookout.

He doesn't speak to them for the rest of the game. Dalton wins but Blaine can't find it in himself to celebrate. He figures it's okay to look disappointed, what with him wearing purple and all.

He's about to leave the bleachers, lost in blurs of blues and reds, when Sebastian's dad pulls him aside.

"He doesn't know." The man rushes out in a soft voice.

Blaine nods.

The pinch in his stomach lightens up, and soon enough they're graced with Sebastian himself. He's wearing a funny look- Blaine decides it's because of his attire- but Sebastian's excited from their victory and he rushes forward to hug him, lifting Blaine off the ground and he shouts, "We won!"

Blaine's eyebrows are above his head because Sebastian has never breached his comfort zone before. It doesn't feel wrong though, so he laughs nervously until his feet reach the ground again. Detective Smythe watches carefully behind them, his second son distracted by the cheerleaders.

As soon as Sebastian realizes what he's done, he backs away, flushed and muttering an apology. Then he replaces his concern with a smirk, and says they need to do something about that shirt.

Blaine hears 'gay dinosaur' and before he can retort Adrien apologizes. "He's joking." He says monotone, while glancing back at the cheer stand. An arm shoots out in front of a pouting Sebastian, "It's an unfortunate by product from our dad here. So how do you know Bas?" Adrien looks back at Blaine, a knowing look in his eyes.

It makes Blaine uneasy. "Roommate." Blaine blurts, much like when he told his orientation group he liked to sing. He slaps his hand over his mouth as if it will muffle the projected sound and Adrien laughs, nods, and turns back to hear Sebastian recount the game.

Blaine takes that as his cue to leave, so he slips behind the bleachers and practically runs back to his 'prison.' He decides against going back to the rooms because he's not sure if he can pretend everything's fine right now.

Sebastian's dad would be a freaking detective. Why hadn't he put it together by now? Sebastian had even told him that his father was a cop. Mr. Smythe had met Blaine during the most humiliating period of his life. He'd seen pictures! He'd heard Blaine sob! Oh god. He's seen me cry. He's seen- his dad knows. Blaine shakes his head as if the movement will erase the situation. He does that a lot these days.

'He doesn't know.'

What if Sebastian did? What if that's the reason he had been so accommodating, and not so much to anyone else. What if Sebastian thinks Blaine is just as pathetic as he feels? He balls up his fists and tightens them against his sides.

He thinks of Sebastian's green eyes, and for the first time they make him feel sick. How is he going to face the brunette at their Warblers rehearsal this week? They always stick together. How is he going to be able to look Sebastian in the eyes and pretend like everything is alright?

The worst part about it is that Blaine has no one to talk to. No one knows what he's been through here, and at this moment-as Blaine stuffs himself into a leather couch near the commons- he wishes harder than ever before for a chance to speak to Kurt.

One day, he thinks, he can't be silent forever.