"Kurt?"

"Hi Phillip," Kurt greeted, turning in the corridor and smiling at the shorter, Junior Warbler, "what's up?"

Phillip twisted his mouth for a moment, as if deliberating what to say.

"Something bothering you?" Kurt guessed after a moment, jerking his head in a 'follow me' gesture before walking. The sandy-haired teenager fell easily in step beside him, and Kurt, realising that this may be a longer conversation than was normal for them, led them into one of the rarely used classrooms on the way to the Senior Commons room. He thumbed off his bag before chuckling as Phillip pulled out a chair and sat, crossing his legs quite properly at the ankles. It was at moments like these that Kurt's upbringing stood out as he settled for hopping up onto the table in front of him without a second thought. Such proper mannerisms seemed inbred into the majority of these Dalton boys, and at times like this, amused Kurt terribly.

"We're alone now Phillip," Kurt said cajolingly, "what do you want to talk about?"

Phillip squirmed for a moment, and his eyes remained firmly averted when he finally asked, "Is Jeff okay?" Kurt blinked, and, as if sensing his surprise, Phillip rushed on. "I just...he seems different...has been for a while now, and I'm just a bit worried," Phillip hurried to explain. "I mean he's on the Council and what affects him affects all of us, so I just wanted to make sure he's okay."

Kurt barely resisted the urge to chuckle, even as he was still processing the implications behind what the boy had asked. That was a good save, he admitted to himself. Jeff was doing his outright best to carry on as if nothing at all was wrong...if Kurt had not been under the tree with him that weekend, he might have even fallen for the ruse. So, for Phillip, who to his knowledge, rarely dealt with Jeff in any real way to notice and seek Kurt out to inquire about him...

This was really turning into an interesting semester, Kurt decided, for the better or worst.

"Jeff...is dealing with some things," he admitted, not wanting to elaborate on the situation, but still not wanting to outright lie to Phillip since he was obviously genuinely concerned. "He's not one hundred percent right about now, but his mind is firmly focussed on the competition on Wednesday."

"I-I'm glad," he responded, "that he's okay. I mean...that's exactly what we need if we're to beat them! No distractions."

"None," Kurt agreed, his lips twitching. This could be amusing. "Are you okay? This is going to be the first major competition where you have a real singing role."

"Are you sure I should do it? You guys are placing a lot of trust in me."

Kurt offered him a small smile. "I know you'll be fine, and I understand your nervousness, which is why you've only got part of the first verse. Take those lines and own them, and you never know, you may have an entire song for yourself next year."

"I doubt," he scoffed, "I-I really prefer dancing...now that you guys have integrated it, I'm a lot more happy."

"You're a great dancer," Kurt acknowledged, "And you have a good eye for choreography, don't think we haven't noticed. And, you've even found a way to make me look good dancing, which in itself deserves a medal."

Phillip laughed at that, Kurt joining in.

"If we win Tuesday," Kurt continued once they had calmed down, "your choreography would have had a large part to do with it."

"And if we don't win, at least we have the rest of Thanksgiving week to wallow in turkey and cranberry sauce."

Kurt guffawed at that. "You are such a terrible pessimist."

"I prefer the term realist," he shot back, and Kurt laughed openly at that, reaching over to pat his shoulder.

"Kurtsie!" Jeff's voice came suddenly from beyond the room, "is that you I hear laughing without me?" The door opened (quite dramatically) seconds later, with Jeff standing there with a mock-enraged expression on his face that quickly turned to shock when he saw them. "Umm...sorry, didn't realise I was interrupting."

"Interrupting what?" Kurt asked, even as Phillip jumped up, dislodging Kurt's hand. "I-I have to go Kurt," he said, and quickly headed for the door, "thanks for the help. Goo-good bye Jeff," he added as he by-passed him.

Kurt frowned, confused by his sudden exit. "Interrupting what?" he repeated, watching as Jeff closed the door before shooting him a very odd look.

"You two seemed quite cosy."

Kurt stared at him for a moment before groaning, "Oh come on Jeff," he said in exasperation, "you scared him off because of that?"

Jeff shrugged, claiming the now empty seat in front of Kurt before resting a hand on his knee. "You and Blaine are still...undecided and Philip's bi, so…"

"Don't even go there," Kurt snapped, flecking his finger against Jeff's knuckle. "Were you looking for me?"

"I was," he confirmed, "Mr. Kentwood said that we have permission to have a dry run after lunch tomorrow. They'll shorten the class-times in the afternoon so everyone gets to see it...and well, offer any last prayers- I mean advice."

"So funny," Kurt quipped, scowling at him. "We will be fine."

"This theme thing is so left-field," Jeff complained, "'International' could mean anything. What if they come out singing in Korean or something?"

"I am pretty certain New Directions is considering doing that," Kurt admitted, "but I think we'll be fine. Britain thankfully has great music, and our two songs are bound to appeal to all age demographics. And as far as I've seen a dance transition between the songs is pretty innovative for Show Choir."

"We've been working really hard on this."

"We have, but I think that this stress is exactly what we needed right about now."

"It is," Jeff agreed, and briefly, that mask of his fell. "Is Blaine still coming for Thanksgiving?"

Kurt nodded. "It is better this way," he explained. "There are so many things I need to say and he needs to say and...I just don't see a phone call or Skype being sufficient."

"It's bound to make for an awkward evening though."

Kurt chuckled darkly at that, "Yeah well, I am not really certain if he's going to make it in time for Thanksgiving dinner. He has a paper due Wednesday. If he doesn't finish by tomorrow he'll just stay in New York until Friday. It'd be crazy to expect him to try to travel on the day itself."

"Yeah well, it's good to see you guys are at least trying to keep the promises you made."

"Jeff," Kurt breathed, resisting the urge to touch him. Jeff, for all that he was usually quite tactile, despised touch when he was angry or upset unless he expressly sought it out, and Kurt respected that.

"Anyway," he said brightly, "Grandmother says that since he's not going to come there's really no need to remain in Westerville. We're going to head out to our cabin and celebrate there."

"Sounds great," Kurt said lightly, accepting that the conversation was done. "I would invite myself along, but this might be the last family thanksgiving like this we're going to celebrate."

"A next disastrous effect of college," Jeff grumbled, "I am so camping out in your house come December when applications begin."

"No problem. Watching Blaine do his is actually going to prove to be quite useful."

"Awesome, now come on," he bid, getting up and pulling Kurt off his desk, "I want to get some popcorn before practice starts."

"Why do you need-"

"No questions Kurtsie!" Jeff demanded, skipping to the door. "Come on. Popcorn awaits!"

And, as always, Kurt couldn't bring himself to refuse him.

Kurt's cheeks expanded as he blew out a puff of air, pacing back and forth, trying to calm himself. Maybe he should have taken a second pill after all, he thought dismally. He was in a small room in the backstage area of the performance venue, isolated from everyone else as he tried to calm himself down. He could do it, he knew he could. Except...it was a lot harder to keep up a front of confidence when alone. It was the main reason he had chosen to separate himself from the group, hoping that Jeff and Trent would be enough to keep them together for now. The pretence had been starting to affect him and he had just needed to get away for a few minutes.

At least they hadn't been seated due to performing second to Vocal Adrenaline, and Kurt could only hope that was the only second they received that day. He sighed again, deeper this time as he stopped, only now realising that his left hand was rubbing up and down against his custom-made sling. He really wished that today of all days his arm would not have decided to tremor violently to this extent as he much, but, so far, his recently acquired immobiliser was doing its job and the pain was manageable. He had not wanted to risk taking a full-strength pill pre-performance, but he was pretty certain that adrenaline would take him through this. He wanted to win. They had to win.

That thought though, instead of bolstering Kurt, unnerved him even more, and, without really even realising it, his hand dug into his pocket and soon, he was dialling Blaine. Everything between them was secondary right now; he needed him.

"I don't know if I can do this," he blurted out the moment he heard Blaine's voice.

"Kurt," Blaine breathed out, instantly alert, "you definitely can do this."

"No, no I can't Blaine," Kurt countered, his voice shaking as he shook his head back and forth. "Who am I kidding? This is Vocal Adrenaline, Blaine. We don't have a chance in hell to win and why did we even bother to come here? Why did I-"

"Poppet," Blaine interrupted, his tone firm, "take deep breaths for me. That's it sweetheart, breathe for me."

"Blaine-"

"Shhhh," Blaine hushed, "don't speak for a moment. Just breathe and relax. That's what you called me for, I think. To help you relax. And that's what I'm going to do. So just relax and close your eyes. You know your songs, you know your choreography. I know Vocal Adrenaline is a difficult team to beat, but you have conquered so much in the past two years. This is just one more challenge for you, and Poppet, I know you can overcome this. You just need to have faith in yourself, and faith in the team you are leading. You can do this Kurt."

Blaine spoke for a bit longer, his voice deliberately calm and soothing in a way that helped unravel Kurt's nerves, even as it tickled his emotions and caused him to sniffle once Blane had fallen quiet. "I wish you were here."

"I know Poppet," Blaine acknowledged, and Kurt was heartened to realise that his own voice was no longer steady. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it back in time, but you can do this."

"I'm sorry," Kurt said then, "sorry that I haven't really spoken to you over the last few days, and now to call you like this when you have your paper to finish. Oh god, I'm disturbing you aren't I?"

"It's okay," Blaine assured him, "You will never be a distraction to me. I know that we have a lot to work out, and we will deal with that once I get there, but let's forget that for now okay? This isn't about us, and the way I screwed this up for us. This is about you getting through this performance. Everything else is secondary right now."

"You're crying," Kurt correctly deduced, even as he switched the phone to speaker and put it on the table in front of him so that he could wipe at his eyes.

"A little," Blaine acknowledged, "it is really good to hear your voice right now Kurt."

"Same here," Kurt agreed, "God, I love you Blaine, so much."

"I love you too Kurt. I always will." Kurt heard Blaine take a shuddering breath before pressing on, "It's almost half ten. You should go now."

"Are you nearly done with your paper?"

"You're hedging," Blaine said with a watery laugh.

"I am," Kurt answered with a chuckle of his own, "but are you?"

"I have to upload it by midnight. I have time poppet. Now no more distractions. You've got a team to lead."

"I'll call you after?"

"I'll be waiting," Blaine confirmed. "Good luck Kurt. And no matter what, remember I'm proud of you."

"Thanks Blaine. Bye."

"Bye Poppet."

Kurt sighed as he pocketed the phone. Calling Blaine had been a good decision, he knew, looking into the small mirror on the wall to assess the possible damage he had caused to his face, grateful that it was minimal. He was better now - more grounded. He was glad that he had not thought about it; to do so would have caused indecision and uncertainty, two feelings he really did not need at this moment.

Indeed, all of the confidence he had shown over the past few days was back. Kurt found himself grinning softly at his own reflection, and took a second to flick a strand of hair back into place. Jeff had tussled his hair into an artfully disarrayed hairstyle, one that suited the sleek, black outfit that he was wearing. They definitely had shed their gentlemanly, schoolboy look with this outfit, and Kurt was ever so grateful for it. The audience would love the transition between the two acts, he told himself, as, finally, as prepared as he would ever be, Kurt straightened and left the room to return to his team, and hopefully, victory.

"You look worried," Puck said, closing the door to the choir room.

Finn didn't acknowledge him for a moment, too busy sending off a text before he responded. "It's one of those days where I should have listened to my mom and just skipped school."

"Oh?" Puck responded, straddling a chair near to his long time childhood friend. "You worried that Kurt's gonna choke on stage?"

Finn shot him a mild glare at that. "He's past the nerves stage," he informed him, with a hint of pride, "I haven't seen him so confident about anything since...well...I'm not sure I ever have to be honest," Finn admitted, "and that's a bit worrisome."

"He'd get his panties in a bunch if he lost."

"Puck," Finn ground out.

The mohawk sporting teenager held his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, forgot that you got a permanent hard-on when it comes to him."

"God why do I still talk to you," Finn snapped, rising abruptly.

"Hey, hey, hey," Puck said in a placating tone, "I'm not trying to make you mad."

"Oh really?"

"Come on man, talk to me. What's eating you up in side? Well other than Vocal Adrenaline eating the Warblers for lunch."

"You're acting like we could have beaten them."

"Hey," Puck said, nonchalantly, "we'll get our asses whooped come February. Might as well revel in their suffering for now."

"Nice."

"Anyway, dude, what's the problem?"

Finn sighed. "Not that you'd care, but Blaine just texted me."

"Oh yeah...you gonna beat him up or something?"

"On principle I should," Finn admitted, "but really, I think this whole thing's gotten blown out of proportion."

"Says the one who dumped Rachel for kissing someone else while you guys weren't together."

Finn didn't even bother to dignify that with a response. "What I'm saying is that I don't think Blaine dancing with a next dude is the real issue. But, that's for them to figure out. I just don't know if Blaine's timing is the best. Kurt's going to be distraught when they lose. Maybe Blaine should have just waited for Christmas after all to come here."

"Well no matter what happens, you'll be a good papa to Kurt and put him back together again."

"Dude," Finn groaned.

"Do you rather me call you his fuck-buddy, because that's one of the less kind names running around for you these days."

Finn's expression darkened briefly before he shrugged. "Look, I've told you this before Puck. I don't give a damn what anyone has to say about me anymore. They all lost that privilege the minute Karofsky and Azimo attacked Kurt."

"Yeah well, as far as they see, your Kurt lost this school two of their best football players and we've been getting our asses kicked ever since."

"We haven't won a competition since Shuester was a student here," Finn scoffed, dropping back down into his seat. "And I must have been doing something right if Coach Bieste never replaced me as Captain."

"Rumour has it that's because-"

"I don't give a damn about the rumours, Puck," Finn interrupted smoothly. "I'm starting to think that Kurt really has the right mentality about this place and everyone in it."

"And what's that?"

"Nothing," Finn said, knowing better than to vocalise that he was starting to understand why Kurt had deemed this a place filled with losers...losers Finn was starting to feel like he wanted nothing to do with once he had his diploma in his hand.

Anything Puck wanted to say was interrupted by the arrival of the remainder of their team, and, grateful for the distraction, Finn moved away to take his spot at the front, mildly curious but overall not quite caring, who between Rachel and Quinn chose to sit by him. The more he learnt about how Kurt and his friends were running The Warblers, the more Finn sort of craved the organisation they had. They were completing on Saturday in their Sectionals, and even now, three days before, Mr. Shue was still trying to come up with a song list, a task made increasingly difficult by the protests erupting from every suggestion that was made, particularly since it was quite clear that Rachel was only offering up options that would allow her to be centre stage.

Finn chose to stay quiet and avoid the bulk of the protests. All their words equally had merit and yet were quite silly, and truthfully, he wasn't exactly sure how Mr. Shue was keeping his temper in check. Except...nope, the man was shouting now, and that was the only thing that was bringing a semblance of order back to the room. And there now, he noted, was Rachel evoking those tears of hers in protest to the scolding, and as always, Mr. Shue was capitulating to it, and yup, now was the perfect time for him to just return his focus to his cell-phone and to check for random updates on Facebook while waiting for the inevitable text from Kurt. Maybe he really should have bought those flowers...

"Finn, I expected better from you."

Finn raised his head, confusion etched on his face as he found Mr. Shuester standing inches from him. "What?" he asked, rather stupidly.

"We are in one of the most important meetings of the semester and you can't keep your eyes off Facebook?"

Finn's irritation rose a bit. "The only thing that's been happening so far is you making suggestions that everyone is rejection. I rather not take part in this shouting fest this time around. If you have a problem with that, sorry."

"Well don't hold back, Frankenteen."

"Whatever Santana," he shot back rolling his eyes. "Look, I'm not being rude Mr. Shue, but I'm just not going to participate in the chaos. If you want, I'll put away the phone, but I'm not going to get involved in this."

The teacher looked at him for a long moment, as if wanting to dispute what he was saying before finally just shrugging and turned away. Finn was grateful, and, in appreciation for his compliance, he pocketed the phone, and although it did nothing to soothe his frazzled nerves, tried to pay attention. And he managed to for most of the rehearsal, grateful when their attention turned to actual important matters. He was distracted though when his phone vibrated in his pocket. His data and Wi-fi was off, so that could only mean a text message. Pulling away from the group, he squatted down beside the piano, hoping that Mr. Shue wouldn't notice him for the few seconds it took him to - "Oh my god!" he gasped out.

"What?" Sam, who was nearest to him demanded, stopping mid move, "what happened?"

"Finn!" Mr Shue scolded, but his words barely registered to him, as Finn quickly widened the picture Burt had sent to his phone.

"Is that The Warblers?" Sam asked, looking over his shoulder. "No way!" he gasped a second later, "This cannot be real."

"What? What is happening?" Rachel demanded, even as Artie, seeming to catch on quicker than everyone else, turned on the television in the corner of the room, quickly flipping through until he found a local news channel.

All attention diverted to the screen as they saw a clip of The Warblers performing.

"Glad You Came," Finn muttered, watching with pride as the teenagers executed perfect twirls and flips. He barely resisted the urge to fist bump when he saw Kurt perform a one-armed cartwheel over a bent Jeff before landing on his feet with what can only be described as a smug grin on his face before he belted out a note, and damn, he had not even realised Kurt could reach so low a tone now. Their own practice was forgotten as they took in the spectacle.

"They gave up on accapella?" Rachel said, shooting him a glare.

He ignored her; what Kurt told him in confidence was not the group's business, and he knew the reverse held true for his brother.

"Wow!" Sam gasped, as a Warbler Finn recognised as Trent, perfectly caught Kurt as he leaped at him before tossing him into the air, an action mirrored on the other side of the stage with Jeff as the flier.

"Damn Porcelain!" Santana shouted as a next Warbler somehow reached beside Trent in perfect time to catch Kurt who snapped his unbound hand in the end, queuing one final light change to rainbow colours as The Warblers went into the home stretch. Their moves were a mixture of hip hop and more graceful, almost gymnastic-like moves that Kurt and Jeff particularly seemed to be excelling at before, finally, they ended in a group formation with, and Finn was not ashamed to say it, sexy looks on their faces which drew screams from the audience that was already on their feet.

What Finn was seeing validated the message that accompanied the text he had gotten.

"And there you have it folks," the brunette reporter said, as the footage ended and reverted to her, "the winning performance of The Dalton Academy Warblers! You have seen it here first, a major upset in the Show Choir world as Nine-Time Champions Vocal Adrenaline have failed to advance past the Sectionals round. It seems that there is a new team to watch out for this year! The other teams in the circuit better watch out. These Warblers have given a message here loud and clear. They are out for victory, and right about now, I pity anyone who is going to come up against them."

"Well screw me sideways," Puck breathed as Artie clicked off the television, "They did it."

"Kurt did it," Mercedes said with pride.

Finn didn't even bother to reply. His phone was already pressed to his ear as he waited for Kurt to answer to congratulate him. He had always known it and this was the proof. There was really nothing his little brother couldn't do once he set his mind to it. It seemed like that Kurt Hummel he had first gotten to know was truly back in action, and way improved from his younger self. And Finn loved him for it.