A/N: I had both parts of Chapter 1 already written so I figured I might as well post them both for you. If you like it, can you let me know? Favorites/reviews would make my day(s). :) Also, I thought I'd mention that I screwed around with canon in that Blaine is older than Kurt. Blaine's a senior while Kurt's a junior. That's just how it's always been in my head.
Warnings: OOC!Blaine

Chapter 1 Part 2: The Warblers

Blaine Anderson was not an angry person by any means. He was prone to an outburst every once and a while, that was true, but he was gentlemanly and kind. Or so his parents had raised him to be. And that was why it came as such a surprise when he was arrested for assault and damage to school property. Where had the little boy, the one that liked to sing along to Disney movies and play tea parties with his little sister, gone? The Sadie Hawkins dance of '07 at Westerville High was the night that changed Blaine Anderson, and not entirely for the better.

It, of course, began when he asked Michael Lambert, the only other gay guy in the school (sometimes fourteen-year-old Blaine thought that they were the only two in Ohio), to go with him as his date. That was the metaphorical strikes 1 and 2. The dance itself went quite well despite everyone's expectations; it was when they tried to leave that things went awry.

The football team was the main opponent of Blaine and Michael's "coming out" idea. They took it upon themselves to meet the couple at the exit to the gym and to lure them behind the building for some 'man-to-man bonding'. While bonding didn't usually include beating up the freshman participants, it did that time. They took Michael down first for cowering against the wall while a sophomore wide receiver held Blaine back. The anger inside of the smaller boy grew and mutated within him until something snapped.

It was common knowledge that the area behind the gymnasium was the main smoking area of the public school; it just so happened that Joseph Nettle had decided to use the opportunity that the dance provided as a distraction to the administration to continue his tobacco addiction. The spark from his lighter that was usually so harmless expanded exponentially until it was a roaring flame twice the size of Joseph's face; the fire licked at his neck and hand until he dropped the object in shock and in pain. It only grew more and snaked through the air with a crackling power to its new master, Blaine, who had no time to be shocked like his peer. He snapped the whip of fire at his restrainer's feet until he was set free and the proceeded to send the flames into a sky-high wall of force between his date and his date's attackers, shouting profanities that no one was listening to as they stared in horror and hoped desperately that their night would not end in being burnt alive. Even Michael, who could have very well been grateful for being rescued, thought nothing but that he wished to make it home in one piece.

The police arrived soon after and arrested Blaine Anderson, 14, for the burns on Joseph Nettle, 16, and the fire damage to school property. It was contained enough not to set the gym aflame and so the arson charge was lessened, and no one saw Blaine hurt Joseph, so that one was as well. But he was still looking at the rest of his adolescence in juvenile hall until he could be perhaps tried at adulthood. He was set free two weeks after the arrest when a man named Dr. Lawrence Sterling came down to the station and worked something out with the district attorney to let Blaine go, with his record wiped clean and no exposure of the charges against him. For some reason, the terms were met and Blaine was released into Dr. Sterling's watchful eye.

The psychiatrist revealed himself to be, what he called, a 'supernatural': a human in every definition, except that just happened to possess some excess gift of the comic book hero variety. Dr. Sterling, for example, was able to create illusions- visible mirages that looked and stimulated the senses in a very real way. In fact, they were so realistic that people swore they could touch them. While the illusions were incapable of harming a person in any way, the shock was usually enough to get Dr. Sterling's point across. As it turned out, the district attorney was terrified of snakes… the man wasn't particularly proud of coercing people into things, but he needed to get things done to ensure the safety and anonymous nature of his students. He was the Dean at Dalton Academy, a private school for boys, where there was a group of students like Blaine. They were a show choir to the school, an acapella group, which secured them their own floor of one of the dormitories and plenty of excuses for private meetings when they needed to practice their abilities. They were all close, sharing a bond of nature that was not something most could understand, and were aware of Blaine. They wanted to meet him. But it was up to Blaine.

It took very little persuading to get his parents to sign the transfer papers.

"Take it from the top, Warblers!"

Wes was usually stubbornly oblivious to the hateful glares he received from the club during training. While he was ruthless in show choir practice, insisting that they sound flawlessly put-together, Wes was somehow more disagreeable in training. He had as close to control of his telekinetic abilities as he was probably every going to get, and so he deemed himself the head of the Warbler Council and the personal trainer to each and every one of the Warblers. His best friend/cohort David stayed out of the dictatorship mentality and tried very, very hard not to gloat that best friend privileges helped him survive Councilman Wes' tyranny. Plus, he was pretty good at quickly and efficiently exposing his organic metal skin-layer and once it was in place there was little left for him to do thanks to the virtually indestructible material. The final Council member, Thad, had figured out his power (the ability to produce miniature bombs that set off when they hit a solid surface) at a young age and so Wes spared him from the vigorous exercises.

Blaine, while good friends with all three Council members in normal circumstances, was one of Wes' favorites to torment and push beyond his limits. Blaine knew in the back of his head that the other boy was just trying to help him out and force him to reach his potential, but ever since the first outbreak of his power there was this excess anger residing just under his skin that threatened to send a large flame right into the Asian's face. But he tried, and he excelled quickly to being a pseudo-leader in the Warblers, both the musical group and the supernaturals.

So when offered the solo at Sectionals, Blaine accepted. And it went perfectly. He was so giddy on energy that he barely watched the other performances and soon found himself out in the lobby waiting for the results, positive that the Warblers would win for the first time since 1996. He was so out of it that he almost ran into the person in front of him, thankfully the person didn't notice. But his outfit, a red button down shirt and black slacks reminded him of the first group that went up… what was it? Nude- oh, he remembered. The announcer had screwed it up and the Warblers spent most of the group's number giggling like schoolgirls. Somehow hoping he could make up for the embarrassment, Blaine decided to speak up.

"You're in New Directions, right?" Blaine made sure to enunciate the 'eye' in Directions.

The other boy turned around (Blaine briefly made a mental note that he should probably not talk to strangers that weren't even looking in his direction). But as soon as his eyes met those of the other performer, his rational brain was dead. He was the most beautiful person Blaine had ever seen, perhaps the most beautiful person in the entire world. His pale skin looked so smooth that the Warbler had to restrain himself from reaching out to stroke his cheek. He was tall, taller than Blaine at least, with legs that somehow stretched forever. And his eyes… Blaine hoped that he could die staring into the blue-green-gray mixture that was the boy's eyes…

"Y-Yeah. And you're in… the Warblers?" His voice was like a choir of angels; oh God, Blaine was hooked on this boy.

"Yes. I loved your performance. You really have some gifts at McKinley." Not that he had been listening to the New Directions at the time, but he was berating himself for it and swore to Google them or something.

The other boy mumbled something to himself before seeming to catch his mistake, "I mean- I loved you guys too. It was really… unique. I've never heard Train sung acapella." From him, it was the greatest compliment that any boy could receive.

But wait! Blaine almost slapped himself. He didn't even know the boy's name… "I'm Blaine." He was certain that the name he would receive in return would be something as gorgeous as the boy… something unique, something breath taking, something-

"Kurt." Kurt. It was perfect. And oh- had he put his hand out? He hadn't remembered offering a handshake… he certainly had no regrets, feeling Kurt's soft porcelain skin was better than any feeling in the world. It was better than he had imagined it would be.

Realizing that he was staring dreamily, Blaine scrambled for something to say as he reluctantly let go. "Well, good luck to you and your group, Kurt." It even sounded good coming from his lips. How could he do the name justice when it was so magnificent, as it described the- the angel before him. "You deserve to win."

The boy, Kurt, turned around again to order his drink (a Diet Coke) and then he left with a cute 'bye' that had Blaine sighing happily. He looked at the young girl waiting impatiently for whatever he wanted and the first thing that came out of his mouth was 'Diet Coke', after which he stuttered and blurted out 'Red Vines' just to make sure that it didn't seem like he was that aware of what the customer before him had been ordering. The girl didn't seem to care.

It was only when he was returning to the Warblers' room that he realized he didn't even like Diet Coke, but as he took a sip of the liquid he imagined a certain boy doing the very same thing and then it wasn't so bad. Especially when he pictured Kurt licking his lips quickly to make sure there was no soda remaining on them with a little smile of contentment. It was pure bliss really, Diet Coke. He had no idea why he'd never liked it before.

And then it hit him. Regionals. He would get to see Kurt again. A slow grin spread its way onto his face as he sipped his drink again and entered the Warblers' room, completely oblivious to the stares he got as he did so.

"What's wrong with Blaine?" Jeff whispered into his boyfriend's ear.

"He looks like he's either gone insane, or fallen in love," Nick replied.

"I'd go for the second one," said David.

"Guys! I've figured it out!" Everyone, including Blaine (who had snapped out of his trance enough to pay some attention to his friends), turned to look at the newest Warbler, a freshman named Mason. He had been pondering something all afternoon but refused to tell what was on his mind until he knew what was bothering him. "Normally when my hands are tingling it's because there's another supernatural around, but it was like my skin was literally crawling with energy. The only time that happens is when I'm around all of you! 'Cause there's a lot of you all together. A group here must be like us!"

"I doubt it's the old people," Thad speculated. "They hardly seem to possess any abilities."

"It might not be a show choir," Wes pursed his lips in thought. "It could just be a group in the audience."

"Yeah, but why would they be here? The only audience members are people from Dalton, the old folks' families, and people for the New Directions," Mason argued.

"That is a good point."

"So what you're saying is that you think New Directions are a group of supernaturals who, like us, have taken on the disguise as a show choir to cover their training times?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying!" The freshman smiled, sure of his own brilliance.

"The only problem with that is that we can't do anything about it," reasoned Trent. "We can't get them to reveal their powers, and we would expose ourselves if we even bothered to ask."

"They must have a teacher," said Flint. "Someone to guide them and to have suggested a glee club. Maybe Dr. Sterling knows?"

"I don't think my dad would keep something like that from us," Jeff shook his head doubtfully.

"Well it's not like we needed to know, per say. It would be nice to know that we're not totally alone, but it's not really up to him to decide to reveal others. Maybe they're not comfortable with their abilities or something?" David tried to be the peacemaker before an argument could even begin.

New Directions were supernaturals? Blaine thought in disbelief. That meant Kurt, his Kurt, could understand him. They could be together and there would be no secrets! He was so excited that the music sheets he had been placing back into his bag began smoking before he realized it and let them go. Anger, while the most powerful of his emotions, was not the only one to invoke his ability. Anything really could do it, but he hadn't expected happy anticipation to do the trick. He decided then and there that he had to be more careful if this boy was going to make him start random uncontrolled fires again. That thought led to another, though, and that was that if he was going to have to control himself for this boy than of course that meant they were going to have a relationship. Friends he could live with for a while, but he was determined that Kurt would definitely love him one day just so that he could forever call that beautiful boy his.