Hello again, dear readers. Enjoy!

SPOV

When I wake up, I find myself in an unfamiliar room. Even more startling than that is the fact that I'm sprawled across Blaine's chest. For a moment I panic, wondering how I ended up here, but then I remember the happenings of last night, and a hot blush creeps across my face.

I carefully extricate myself from Blaine and bring my knees up to my chest, holding my head in my hands. There's really only one word to describe how I feel now, and that word is stupid. I feel stupid. Not only did I act like a child, but I let him closer than I should have. Before he wakes up, I try to regain any shred of the person I was before all this, but it's a lot harder then you'd think.

Just then, Blaine opens his eyes and looks up at me. "Hey," he murmurs sleepily, "How're you feeling?"

"Fine," I reply, trying to keep my voice cold and distant. Did it always take this much effort to pretend to hate him?

"What's wrong?" he asks, concerned.

"Nothing. I'm fine, so leave me alone." This comes out harsher than I intended, but instead of pushing him away, it seems to have the opposite effect. I try to get up, but Blaine wraps a hand around my arm. Not hard, mind you, just enough to keep me in place.

"I'm not letting you do this," he says firmly.

"Oh?" I scoff, "And what exactly are you not letting me do?"

His grip on my arm tightens a little bit. "I'm not letting you push me away," he says hotly. "No matter how much you don't want to admit it, we both know you need me right now. And I know that that's scary to you, but I just want to help, and that's exactly what I'm going to do. Go ahead and hate me, I don't care. But I refuse to be pushed away." He releases my arm then, turning away from me and rummaging in a dresser.

I feel really terrible now. All Blaine's been trying to do is help me, and all I've done is be a coward. "I…I don't hate you," I venture softly. He turns around and looks at me with surprise, but doesn't speak.

"You're right. I am scared. I've never needed anyone because I've never had anyone I could rely on. I relied on myself. I…I don't know how to deal with this. The only way I've ever dealt with anything was by hiding behind my attitude." I pause, taking a breath. "I'm sorry."

Slowly, Blaine comes over and sits down next to me again. "Sebastian, I know that this is hard for you, but you don't have to be afraid. I want to help you, but if you keep yourself locked up in that shell, then no one can help you."

He raises a hand towards me, and I instinctively flinch away from it. His face grows concerned as the hand settles gently on my shoulder. "Let me clear one thing up right now," he says gravely, "There will be times when I might be upset with you. But I swear to you that no matter what, I will never raise a hand against you. It doesn't matter how upset I am. I promise never hurt you or be violent towards you. Do you understand?"

I nod slowly, looking down at my lap. I feel his hand move from my shoulder up to my chin, gently pulling it up, making my gaze meet his. "I know this isn't going to be easy, but all I ask is that you stop hiding from me and try to let me in. That means if something is bothering you, or if you're upset, or scared, or angry, or anything else, you'll talk to me. And if you promise me you'll try to open up, I'll promise to always be there for you and to do everything I can to help."

I examine his face carefully for any sign that this is a trick, but all I see is sincerity. "Alright," I murmur, "It's a deal."

He gives me an adorably goofy grin. "Want to go down and have breakfast, or do you want me to bring it up?" he asks.

"I'll go down," I tell him. "I'm feeling a bit better today."

Blaine puts his arm around my shoulders anyway as we make our way down the stairs, just in case I slip and fall or something. I expect to see Julie in the kitchen, but she's nowhere to be found. "Where's you're mom?" I ask curiously.

"She had to go to work," he explains, setting me down at the table.

For a second I hesitate. "What day is it?"

He smiles at me. "It's Monday."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Shouldn't you be in school if it's Monday?"

He chuckles lightly. "Well look who's turned into the attendance police," he teases. "Mom called me in sick all week so I could stay here with you. She called you in too."

I nod, not having even thought about school. What are the Warblers going to think when I don't show up? I don't have a chance to really think about it, though, because Blaine speaks again.

"Now," he says, turning to me with a smile, "What shall we make this morning?"

"You're…going to cook something?" I ask. He nods as if this should have been obvious. "Alright, well…what can you make?"

He thinks for a moment. "I can make pancakes, or waffles. I can make bacon and eggs. And there's always toast." He laughs.

"I haven't had pancakes in years," I say. The simple fact surprises even me.

Blaine just smiles. "Pancakes it is. Now, what kind of pancakes?"

When I give him a look, he sighs dramatically. "You poor sheltered child! Didn't anyone ever inform you about the various species of pancakes?"

I stare at him like he has three heads. "I wasn't aware that pancakes came in different…species."

He laughs and gets down to informing me. "Well there's regular pancakes, but that's just boring, isn't it? So then there's blueberry pancakes and pancakes with strawberries. Ooh! And chocolate chip pancakes!"

He looks like a little boy in a candy store. "Um…why don't we go with chocolate chip? That doesn't sound too hard." Blaine bounces up and down for a minute before dashing to the pantry and pulling things out. I follow, a little slower.

"Excellent choice monsieur," he says, trying to fake a French accent while waving various ingredients and supplies in the air, almost dropping them.

It makes me laugh harder than I have in a while, and I have to hold onto the counter to stop myself from sinking to the floor. "What's so funny?" he asks.

It takes me a minute to answer through my giggles. "I just think you look more like the Swedish Chef than a French chef."

Blaine starts bouncing around the kitchen yelling "SCHMORGEDYBORG," and I laugh so hard that I lose my grip on the counter and fall on my ass. "Are you okay?" he asks, running over to help me up.

"Yeah," I wheeze, trying to remember how to breathe. When I finally get a hold of myself, Blaine leads me over to the counter and starts measuring things. "Can I help?" I ask.

He smiles at me. "Of course you can help!" he sets me to work mixing pancake batter, and when it's time to add the chocolate chips, he dumps almost the whole bag into the bowl. "What?" he says in response to my look, "You can never have too many chocolate chips!"

We make the pancakes and sit side by side to eat them. "So," Blaine asks, "do you miss the guys at Dalton yet?"

I hesitate for a moment. "Well, actually, I…can I tell you a secret?" I ask timidly. He nods, so I continue. "To be honest I…I never…" I struggle to find the right words.

"You hated being at Dalton, didn't you?" he asks.

I blush, embarrassed, before speaking. "Kind of. I mean, the Warblers are great, but…I never really felt like I…belonged there. You know what I mean?"

To my surprise, Blaine nods. "Yeah, I understand. I mean, at first I was just glad to be out of my old school, but, besides the Warblers, I didn't really have anything to keep me there." He pauses. "Do you think you want to go back when you're healed?"

I lay my head on my arms, frustrated. This is the same question I've been asking myself these past few days. "I honestly have no idea," I tell him. "Are you happier at McKinley then you were at Dalton?"

He thinks for a moment. "I think so. I mean, the New Directions are different from the Warblers. They're more like a family to me than anything else. They always support each other, no matter what. And, though it may not always be as sane as Dalton, I've come to love it in some weird way. I belong there." He thinks for a moment. "Maybe you'd like to transfer there."

I snort at the very idea. "If I ever went to McKinley, the New Directions would skin me alive. They hate me."

"That's not…exactly true. They hate the old you," he points out. "But you're not like that anymore."

I shake my head. "Somehow I think they'd have a hard time believing that I've changed. They'll accuse me of some sort of plot to tear you guys apart, or they'll think I'm a spy or something. And I can't exactly blame them, considering my past behavior."

Blaine puts an arm around my shoulders. "If you want to go to McKinley, I could make sure they wouldn't bother you. I could even get you into the New Directions, if you still wanted to perform."

"And get me back out alive? That would be quite a feat."

He shakes his head. "No it wouldn't. Like I said, the New Directions are a family. If I asked them to behave, they would, even though they won't like it. I can't promise any friendliness on their part, but if I can convince them not to kill you, you'd get a chance to show them that you really have changed."

I sit in stunned silence for a moment. "You would do that for me?" I ask. "They'd be mad at you."

He just shrugs. "For a while, maybe, but they'd get over it. And yes, if it's something you wanted, I'd do whatever I could to make it happen."

I smile at him. "Good to know. I'll think about it."

So what do you think? I appreciate all comments, so please review!

~TheSongSmith