The school year flies by after that. Blaine and Sam are the co-heads of the prom committee and, as such, are responsible for picking the theme. Sam wants to go with Star Wars – mostly, Blaine suspects, because he doesn't want to wait until Halloween to debut his recently-acquired Hans Solo costume. The rest of the committee seems to be united in pulling for an ironic take on "Under the Sea," not that they can explain what that actually means. Blaine comes down with a stroke of genius and campaigns for "Heroes and Villains" until everyone is on board and as excited about it as he is. Sam looks like he might cry for joy.

Blaine is also in the enviable position of choosing this year's entertainment. He's been carefully scrimping, saving, and streamlining all spring to make room in the budget for a real band – he's been to two proms already, and he really does not want to be coerced into attending a third. The glee club deserves a night to dance with their friends without the pressure of putting on a show. Blaine deserves a night to marathon his favorite '80s teen movies and not even think about homophobic bullies or rampant static electricity. He knows Mr. Schue doesn't see it that way, but it's not his prom, so he can deal.

He almost goes through with it, too. He's ready, even, he's in the choir room and about to make the announcement when he catches a snippet of conversation up and over to his left. It's Marley and Unique, bonding over the fact that it will be their first real high school dance. Prom is such an important rite of passage and it means so much that they get to experience it as sophomores...

It makes him pause.

Unique is talking with great bravado about her killer dress and even more killer date, but Blaine can hear the real excitement in her voice, the awe that this is something she gets to have. It strikes a chord.

"Blaine," says Mr. Schue. "I believe you had an announcement."

He moves to the front of the room with his biggest and best smile.

"It's actually more of a request. I know it's only a formality at this point, but I was hoping to ask, on behalf of the prom committee, if you all would be willing to perform at this year's senior prom."

There's a mix of reactions, as Blaine expected, but even the most grudging agree. Sam is looking at him with his brow furrowed deeply in confusion, but he doesn't say anything.

Blaine ends going with Brittany, Tina, and Sam on a four-way platonic date that gets disrupted about twenty minutes in, when Mike shows up unexpectedly to sweep Tina off her feet. It doesn't really work. They dance a few uncomfortable dances, Tina looking all over the gym with her expression set squarely on Not Amused, and then disappear together for the rest of the evening.

Blaine himself doesn't dance very much, but he does volunteer to take on more than his fair share of the performance time so that those glee club members with real dates can enjoy their evenings uninterrupted.

Sam is elected Prom King and Kelly Carmichael, the wild card nominee, is elected Prom Queen. There is no drama of any sort – everyone claps politely and they dance together, casual and fun, to the soundtrack of Unique belting out her best Aretha.

Blaine is home by midnight. He pops Pretty in Pink into the DVD player and logs into Skype to call Kurt. They watch together until they both fall asleep.

He wakes at four AM to the sound of Kurt's soft snoring. He can see the tip of his ear and one stubborn tuft of hair, illuminated by the blue-white light of his computer screen.

"Ku-urt," he calls, softly. "Kurt, Kurt, Kurt, wake up!"

The snoring stops with an abrupt snort. Kurt lifts his head from its awkward, bent angle and winces.

"What time is it?"

"Late. I figured it couldn't be good for your neck to sleep like that."

"Thanks."

"You'd do the same for me."

They smile at each other for a moment. Kurt rubs at his neck.

"Well. Good night, Blaine."

"Sleep tight."

After that, it's less than two weeks until Nationals. It's in D.C. this year, so there's a plane and the nightmare of shared hotel rooms to contend with. Mr. Schue officially sets up a boys room and a girls room but does very little to actually enforce who goes where. Blaine brings ear plugs and an eye mask and does his best to sleep on his tiny strip of mattress. It's difficult, relaxing, when there's an unfamiliar body shifting restlessly next to his.

He ends up slipping quietly out of his room to find the baby grand in the lobby – his skin is too hot and too itchy, and this, he knows, is what he needs.

Mr. Schue never finds out. Blaine tells Sam he was in the bathroom.

They don't win. It's close, but the championship ends up going to some tiny school in Western Pennsylvania whose glee club has only just recently been revived for competition. Blaine privately agrees with the judges that they were better. And New Directions does beat Vocal Adrenaline, which makes all the difference in the world to their spirits.

The school doesn't greet them with cups of confetti this time, and their trophy is about half as big, but it still feels like victory.

&&&&&

Blaine is buzzing with so many things he can't tell where the nerves end and the anticipation begins. He's backstage, waiting for Figgins' introduction. His cap is on straight and his gown wrinkle-free, topped with a red and navy striped bow tie for old times' sake. He's got his notes clutched in his hand, though he probably doesn't need them, with how many times he's practiced his speech. He's ready for this.

Finally, he hears his name, and he pulls his spine up tall. The smile isn't remotely faked when he strides onstage to take his place at the podium.

He's thought long and hard, over the last few weeks, about what he wanted to say. He didn't know what he could say that wasn't a cliché. He thought about uncertainty and fear of the unknown and starting new chapters, about creating your own family and finding the place where you belong. He thought about losing love and finding new dreams. And this, this is what stuck.

"...Yes, today is an end, but that's not all it is. Today is the day that we take charge of our lives. It won't be easy, and we'll make plenty of mistakes, but they'll be our mistakes. We'll learn. There'll be days when we lose our way and days when the world is conspiring to break our dreams apart. We'll find our way back. We'll find a way to mend them. Today is the day that we take control and accept the risks. Today, we learn to hold our happiness in our own hands. Today, we start to trust ourselves and, more importantly, to fight for ourselves. So even though it's easy on a day like today to look backward with nostalgia or forward with anticipation, I challenge you all to stay right here in this moment and celebrate instead. Because today is a day that we've all won the battle."

There's silence for a terrifying moment, then applause. There are even some cheers from what he assumes is his section of the audience, and a piercing whistle that he knows is Cooper.

He entertained the idea of orchestrating a big musical number, here. One final solo on this stage that's felt like his for the past two years. He finds he doesn't need it.

He moves to take his place with his fellow graduates in their neat, alphabetized rows, scanning the audience for familiar faces. He catches a glimpse of Kurt, bright as a peacock among peahens, sitting with Cooper and their parents.

It strikes him, then, how little his life resembles the dreams he had for this day. He's used to seeing that as a mark of how far he's fallen.

They're wearing matching proud smiles, the four of them. His mother is even dabbing at her eyes. He feels his heart swell.

It's the first time he's thought that, actually, this reality might be even better.