Sorry about the repeat upload, last time. Here's the real chapter 22. Enjoy!

Kurt couldn't properly identify all the emotions racing through him as, with the assistance of the theatre's workers, he got off the wall before heading backstage, hugging and cheering with his friends as he did so. He was drenched, and, passing his hand over his face, he admitted that he wasn't quite certain if it was only sweat he was wiping away. Glancing around him, he could see that he wasn't the only Warbler in this position, and he was a bit gratified by it. Having the microphones removed took a while longer given their (understandable) rowdiness, and then, thankfully they were released back to their dress room. More than one of them had already started stripping as they walked. It was understandable; his shirt was starting to stick to him in quite an uncomfortable way.

He was grateful for the time between their performance and the results. No, there wasn't room for a shower as he really wanted, but at least there were dampened towels and water waiting for them that they made grateful use of before they traded their performance outfits for their uniform; nobody really wanted to remain in the damp costumes anymore, and with a shrug, Trent had said that he doubted it mattered at this point. As he changed, Kurt listened to the different conversations occurring around the room, laughing as a few of the statements he heard.

"I was so scared for a moment," Phillip said with a laugh to one of his friends, "I thought I had misjudged that flip's distance."

"I was just glad I didn't hear any terrified screaming from the audience," he responded. "That would have meant one of you had really gone over."

They all laughed at that.

"Was that crowd reaction not the best ever?" a random voice called out and all of them whooped and cheered.

"You're welcome Warblers," George said loudly.

"Pipe down Satan," Jeff snapped jokingly, causing them to descend into laughter again.

"I'll get you your regular sling now okay?" Jeff told him, after Kurt had finished with his shirt buttons. "The restrictor's left some marks on your skin and I won't have my sweet porcelain damaged."

"Yours?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm starting to like this threesome idea," Jeff said, and Kurt rolled his eyes as he went to where they had tossed their bags earlier.

Kurt blinked as a towel was dropped down onto his head before someone starting tousling his hair. "Thanks," he said, willingly accepting the assistance. He would freely admit that his arm was majorly sore right about now and he would take any assistance offered to him.

"You're welcome," Trent answered. "Your arms need a break now."

"Yeah. I think we're all going to be feeling this for this for a while," he admitted, "but I think we can all agree it's worth it."

"It was."

"Hands off my man, yo!" Jeff declared while setting his sling down on his lap.

"Jeff," Trent said with exasperation, "go see how much time we have left before we go back to the stage if you want something to do."

Trent pulled off the towel in time for Kurt to see the petulant pout that Jeff gave before he shrugged. Kurt snorted as he gave Trent a mock-salute before heading out.

Kurt lost track of the time as he rose and started walking around the room, talking to a few of the Warblers, directing them to clean up the room as they went along. He headed back in Trent's direction eventually when he saw a bit of a frown clouding his face.

"What's wrong?" he asked, reaching up to straighten his tie as he spoke.

"Jeff's been gone a while," he pointed out, "nearly fifteen minutes."

"Bathroom break maybe?" Kurt asked, even though he too found the time a bit suspicious.

Before Trent could respond, the door opened and they both turned, relieved as their blond friend walked in, except, he seemed a bit pale.

"Jeff?" Kurt said inquiringly, hurrying over to where he was leaning against the newly closed door, Trent right behind him. "Jeff, you okay?"

"What happened?" Trent asked directly.

"Umm...they'll come get us when they're ready," Jeff answered, a bit woodenly. "There's a bit of a performance happening from the local theatre group and we don't really have to watch it. Seemed okay though. We should have a good thirty minutes left so, no rush."

Kurt's eyes narrowed slightly. He knew that look; he'd seen it on himself too many times. That look of being slightly lost and not knowing what to do but still not wanting to let anyone know that something was not okay.

"Let's take this outside," he suggested, gently taking and pulling Jeff's hand to get him off the door.

"We've got a while yet guys," Trent said loudly, turning to the group, "Relax okay?"

Amidst the chatting, he heard one or two answers of agreement and he turned, following the pair outside and carefully closing the door behind them.

"Spill Sterling," he demanded.

"Come on Jeff," Kurt stated, a bit more cajolingly, "We know something happened. We can see it in your face. Talk to us, talk to me."

Jeff swallowed, and when he finally looked up from the floor he had been resolutely staring at, Kurt saw the beginning of tears in his eyes.

"I went to find someone," he told them, looking from one to the other, "but when I was near the main area...I saw him."

"Saw who?" Kurt asked, his mind racing over the possibilities. "And did he hurt you?"

"No...no? He kind of just stared at me. I don't think he expected to run into me just like that?"

"Who Jeff?" Trent demanded.

"Nick," Jeff answered, and Kurt felt his eyes widening. "I just ran into Nick."

The nervous energy was back within him, Kurt noted as they assumed their spots on the stage, Jeff firmly by his side. All three teams were now assembled, huddled and nervously whispering to each other. Right about now, Kurt was starting to find all the pomp and ceremony about the day a bit grating. He wanted the results and he wanted it now so he could refocus on Jeff who seemed dangerously close to a meltdown in his opinion. Jeff hadn't spoken much past his pronouncement, instead slapping on that mask of cheerfulness before bypassing them and walking into the room. Kurt had called Blaine immediately, telling him that Nick was there and asking him to figure out exactly what was going on. Blaine, his voice likewise worried, had agreed.

Looking into the audience now, Kurt eventually found his boyfriend and, yes, Nick was there seated beside him. This wasn't a bad thing right, he rationalised, smiling politely as the audience applauded for some reason. If Nick was here it had to mean something good, at least he hoped for Jeff's sake it was true. His head twisted, and he saw the way Jeff was gnawing on his lip. Not caring about where they were, Kurt looped his arm around Jeff's, tugging him close before pressing a kiss to his cheek. "You okay?"

"I-I...we need to just get through this okay?" Jeff whispered, his voice a bit shaky. "Let's just focus on this. On the results, right? We can deal with anything else after that. This is our moment right now. Let's not let anyone interrupt that."

"Okay," Kurt agreed, understanding. He smiled softly when Jeff released his arm in favour of grabbing and lacing their fingers together. Maybe he wasn't as badly off as he had thought.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, it's the moment you have been waiting for!" the host, Mrs. Sampson announced cheerfully, "let's get to the results of the day!"

Around them and from the audience, people cheered, and Kurt settled for letting everyone else do the clapping for him right now.

"First off, we have an award to hand out to the overall first place team at Sectionals. Can we have a representative from Dalton Academy to receive this?"

"Go for it Phillip," Trent directed, with a smile.

Phillip stared at him for a moment, before nodding, going to shake hands and collect it to applause. Kurt nodded approvingly at Trent when he looked his way. Even if it had never been openly discussed as yet, there was a silent understanding that Phillip was to be the next 'chief' Council member. It was the right time for them to start actively integrating him into the fold and letting him learn the ropes. None of them had particularly enjoyed the sink or swim approach that had been fostered onto them and this was a good starting point. Trent patted his back as the redhead returned, and the beaming smile on his face told Kurt that Trent had indeed made the right call.

"Now for the awards for this competition! Let's start with the vocals. Now all groups gave it their all on stage today, but we have to admit that there were a few people here who stood out from the rest, and we have these wonderful crystal trophies here to acknowledge that. So, starting with the ladies, the award for Best Female Vocalist goes to...Rachel Berry from the New Directions!"

That wasn't too much of a surprise if any, Kurt noted, watching as she sprung forward to receive it with her trademark smile in place. There was no way in hell any of the girls from The Renegades had come close to doing anything resembling real singing and it wasn't as if Mr. Shue had really showcased any female voices beside hers.

"Now to the Best Male Vocalist," Mrs. Sampson said, "and I think we can all agree this person's voice wowed us to our core and took us mature folks down memory lane. Trent McDaniels of Dalton Academy, step forward young man."

Kurt laughed at Trent's incredulous expression before urging him forward alongside the other Warbler members. She had been right; Trent had put his soul into that song and he was glad that the judges had seen that.

"I can't believe this," Trent mouthed to him as he walked back.

"You did great," he mouthed back, while Jeff simply gave him a thumb up.

"Now all the teams were pretty innovative in terms of costume, but I am sure we can all agree that there was one team that took it a bit further."

Jeff chuckled beside him as the crowd erupted with glee, a few even calling out their team name. He blushed as he heard someone further back in their formation say loudly, "That's Kurt for you!" even as Mrs. Sampson shouted, "Congratulations Dalton Academy!"

"Go for it Kurt," more than one person said, and Jeff released him before nudging him forward. With little choice, Kurt, almost sheepishly, obeyed.

He accepted a hug in lieu of a handshake from the female judge before accepting the trophy, putting it on the floor alongside the other two before falling back in line.

"Now in our final category, we have an award for Best Choreography and-"

She was not able to finish her words because shouts came from the audience and a chant of their name started. He knew he was not the only one gaping because of it, and looking out, he grinned as he saw that their classmates and alumni were actually on their feet, Mr. Kentwood looking anywhere except at them. They were being decidedly un-gentlemanly right now, but it appeared that he would forgive it given the circumstances.

"The audience is right!" she said finally, amused. "Come forward Dalton!"

"George!" Kurt and Trent said, almost in tandem and nodding, George hurried forward to receive it, delighting everyone by flipping one-handed holding it, landing nimbly in front them. Kurt could only shake his head fondly at him.

"Hopefully all these awards mean something," he found himself thinking, taking in their haul.

"This is it now," Mrs Sampson, announced, as the judges walked onto the stage, one of them handing her an envelope, "where we announce which one of these teams is heading to Nationals. Do any of the judges want to make a comment before I read this?"

A middle-aged, plumped woman nodded, and took the microphone. "I would just like to say that this competition was such a delightful surprise. The teams this year have definitely stepped up their game, putting on a show I am certain we all enjoyed. They worked their hardest, all of them, and I just would like to say that no matter which team goes forward, I am certain that you all have bright futures ahead of you. Good luck to you all."

Everyone clapped politely at that, and her words were enough to sober the atmosphere in the room enough.

"Now," Mrs Sampson began, opening the envelope, "let's start with third place. We are very proud of you Renegades. Congratulations, you have received third place."

Kurt released the breath he hadn't realised he had held. He wasn't too surprised, but being judgemental really was not on the agenda right about now. Judges could be weird that way. But thankfully it was now as he had expected it to be, a competition between them and the New Directions.

While the captain of The Renegades stepped forward to receive a plaque, Trent stepped back, breaking formation so that he was next to Kurt, trapping him between him and Jeff. His arm twinned around his waist, and he leant in to speak.

"We did well today guys. No matter what happens now, we've done every damn thing we could have."

"We did," Jeff confirmed. "I don't think there is anything we could have done differently. I'm proud of what we did today, and I'm glad I was able to do it with the two of you."

"Agreed," Kurt said, his voice equally soft. "No matter what happens today, we've already accomplished what we said we wanted to do at the start of the year. We've done it."

Jeff crowded him a bit and they shared a bit of a three-way hug. They remain close as, with The Renegades off the stage, the results announcement continued.

"Now, it comes down to the New Directions and the Dalton Academy Warblers. One of these teams is heading to LA in May to compete against twenty four other teams, and you know what, I think that no matter which team is written here, they have a good chance of winning the entire competition."

Kurt looked over to his former team, and briefly his eyes meant his brothers. Finn gave him a small bow and Kurt's lips twitched as he stuck out his tongue at him before turning back to the front. It seemed that Finn believed that they had it in the bag, but, would the judges agree?

"In second place," she announced, "we have The New Directions, which means that Dalton Academy, you are heading to Nationals!"

Trent's knees buckled beside them, actually buckled, but crushed as they were in a hug by their teammates, he thankfully didn't reach the floor. There were tears now, genuine tears being shed amidst the hugs, laughter, gleeful shouts and "Oh my god!"s. Kurt couldn't blame him, he felt the same way. He couldn't believe it, could barely process it.

They had done it.

They had won.

They had made Dalton history.

They were heading to Nationals!