Author's note:

So I've decided that since the chapters are so short, I'm gonna post 3 chapters at one time. I've written most of the chapters anyways a few months ago, so when I do update, you'll get all 3 chapters like... immediately.

Warnings and Disclaimers:Graphic violence, death, harsh behavior towards the gay community, language, sensuality/I don't own Glee, Klaine, Niff, or Wevid.

"If I win Warbler of the Quarter, can you accept the award for me, David?" Blaine asked. "I don't wanna go out there. I look like a mess. And… and I don't wanna see Kurt."

Wes remembered the talk he had with Kurt that morning. He shook his head. "You have to go out there. Having David accept your award with no explanation as to why you're not there to accept it yourself will be more embarrassing than if you go to the awards where Kurt will be, looking like you're hungover."

"Wes speaks the truth, Blaine." David said.

It was half an hour until the awards started. Wes and David stood before Blaine, who was in bed. He was covered head to toe by his blankets. After he hadeavesdropped on Wes and Kurt, he sprinted back up to his room, undetected by anyone.

"But I… I… I just can't, you guys!" Blaine exclaimed and sat up. "I can't do this anymore!"

"Gah, would you just stop being such a drama queen?" Wes blurted. "Everyone goes through this! There's no book saying that gay relationships are different than straight ones. Everyone loves the same way, and everyone gets hurt the same way. That's just how everything goes. We're in high school, bro. You think that—that the universe chooses the person you're gonna be with the rest of your life in high school, well guess what, Blaine: you've only had one boyfriend. This love that you feel for him, I understand that. I felt it when I was with Isabella, but I moved on from her. It's called your first love. Everyone gets passed it at some point. Just deal with it."

David looked at Wes with wide eyes. He let out a tiny laugh and then composed himself.

Wes sighed and shook his head. Blaine stared at Wes with shocked eyes. He didn't know how to respond.

Wes scrunched his eyebrows together. "I blacked out. What the hell did I just say?"

Blaine burst into laughter and shook his head. "Thanks, Wes."

Wes smiled.

"Okay, so we have to be in the gym in like… twenty minutes. Get your ass out of bed, Blaine, and get dressed. You're gonna win Warbler of the Quarter, and you're gonna accept it yourself." David said, tossing Blaine's uniform to him.

"Thanks, guys." Blaine smiled.

It was 11:45 am, and the team was ready to go. They were all dressed in black with their rifles slung over their shoulders by straps. Their back-up pistols were hidden behind their backs, tucked in their belts and out of sight. Earpieces were in, extra ammo was strapped on, and home base in the tree house was set up. Dom already disabled all of Dalton's communication, including security. He had also tapped into surveillance and live feed from the awards showed that everyone on campus was in the auditorium, including most of security. Only two guards walked up and down the main building's halls, and no one was outside.

Dom handed a small black duffle bag to Steel. "There's duct tape and ropes to tie up the dean in there," Dom nodded towards the bag.

"Got it." Steel said.

"And remember that when you need to communicate with the team, speak into the receiver on the inside of your wrist. You turn it on by—"

"—by clicking the little button on our finger." Cory interjected Dom.

On everyone's right index finger—except for Dom—was a thick, black, plastic ring that had a small, semi-flat red button jutting out in the direction of their thumbs. A small wire ran from the base of the button down to a receiver speaker on the inside of the wrist that was attached to a black band that was similar to the ring, except wider. The receiver was connected by signal to all the other devices, and to Dom's headset and computer, so there was no need for the black box.

"Are you guys ready to roll out? Cause the awards are almost done." Rocky said.

"Yeah," Rafael replied. "Let's go, boys."

"We won't need these anymore." Shaun said, taking out the manila folder full of the pictures of the select Dalton students. He took out the 27 pictures and flicked them to the ground. The team hustled to the Dalton campus while Dom climbed up to the tree house.

While all the others scattered onto the dirt ground, two particular pictures landed at the bottom of the ladder that lead up to the tree house. The former picture was of a young boy, who had a slightly tanned complexion. He had dark curly hair that was gelled down, and thick eyebrows that fell over hazel eyes.

The latter picture was of another young boy; a pale brunette with sculpted features. His blue-green eyes were bright, and his ruby lips were pulled up into a small smile.

Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel, along with 25 other doomed Dalton students, sat in their chairs in the auditorium—among nearly 1,000 students—while Rafael and the rest of the team jumped from the top of the wall to the roof of Brennan Hall.