When his phone rings he does not look at the caller ID, he just answers, still drifting in the sleepy fog of his dream.

            ‘Blaine?'

            ‘No, kiddo.  Look, um… are you with someone right now?  You're not alone, right?'

His father's voice is tight and chases away instantly any remaining haze in Kurt's mind.

            ‘Dad, are you OK?  It's not the cancer again is it because you beat that, you beat it and it was gone –‘

            ‘It's not me, Kurt.  It's not me.  It's…  God, it's Finn.'

A rush of static fills his ears and he falls, falls, falls.

-+-

            It does not strike him like lightning - it's not a moment of clarity, or as if he is remembering the moment from another time: it is no strange, twisted sense of déjà vu.  He does not know that he is doing the right thing, he does not consider any further ahead than the now - that second – he just surges forward and, like waves, their lips collide. 

            ‘God, Blaine.'  Douglas' moan is barely discernable above his own, and he finds he needs to close the gap – the table is an inconvenience. 

He stands, never letting go of Douglas' hand, pulling the taller man to his feet as he does so.  Their bodies rock into each other's and Blaine slides his spare arm around Douglas, grasping at his shirt until he can feel the sweet warmth of skin.

Douglas' hands meet at Blaine's back, encircling him, pressing their bodies together, as their lips claim, and their breath mingles - desperate staccato. 

It's not enough.

The knowledge is urgent, and Blaine is unable to stop his hips as they rock forwards.  He feels Douglas still and for a fraction of a second he is terrified that he had done something wrong.  His heart hammers against his ribs, but the arms around him do not pull away.

            ‘I need to know.'

His voice is painfully quiet and Blaine knows exactly what Douglas is asking him – Douglas has never pushed him, and Blaine had been grateful, but he knew that Douglas would eventually have to ask and Blaine understands why. 

He has two options:

1.      Lie

2.      Distract

Of course, there is a third option –

            Tell the truth

- but he does not know what the truth is. 

Roger's words prod the back of his mind incessantly and he tries not to let Douglas' words tangle with memories and feelings from before. 

            Blackbird singing in the dead of night…

Truthfully, he is terrified – he does not have a clue what he is doing.  He does not have the experience to tame his thrashing thoughts enough to form coherent sentences; but when his eyes, faltering, find Douglas'

            …take these broken wings and learn to fly.

he knows what he has to say.

            ‘I know I want this…you.  I keep feeling like I'm just imagining things – like I dreamt you up – you're handsome, and witty, and so brave, Douglas.'  He takes a breath.  His head is spinning.  ‘You're so far out of my league that I'm terrified…I guess I'm just waiting….'  He lets Douglas' eyes catch his own and searches desperately for understanding in them.  ‘I'm just waiting for you to wake up and realise you could do so much better than some kid from Ohio…'  Blaine drops his eyes to the floor.

Blaine's breath stutters and he tries to keep himself together – he had no idea how much admitting his feelings would leave him feeling so shattered.  He teeters on the edge before he finds himself held.  Hesitantly, his eyes flick up. 

            ‘Oh darling, you really can't see yourself, can you?'

Douglas' kiss is gentle but his arms are firm around Blaine – just the right amount of support, and he finds himself melting against Douglas, his eyes sliding closed.  He opens his eyes as the older man gently cups his cheek.

            ‘Blaine, please believe me when I tell you that you are everything to me.'

            ‘I guess… I'm scared.  I've never been anyone's everything before.  Not really.  With Kurt we said it, and I think we meant it - as much as anyone can mean anything at the time, you know?  But we were wrong - when it mattered…'  He takes a breath to gather his thoughts – nothing is coming out right, but he needs to explain it to Douglas.  He deserves that much.  ‘I mean – there's Cooper for my parents – he was the first and I wasn't exactly planned, so when I came along I wasn't novel, and I guess… I… I always felt like more was expected of me.  Like I need to compensate for that – to be better, to be independent and strong – because he was, so I should be.  Does that make sense?  But when I'm with you I don't need to always know what I'm doing or be the leader.  I don't have to always be the strong one.  You…you make me feel safe – like I don't have to act all the time.  I can actually be me with you.  You see me.  And for some reason, that I'm not sure I will ever truly understand – you still want me.' 

He feels Douglas' fingers trace circles against his back, and Blaine knows he should be nervous but he feels completely calm because Douglas' expression in that moment is so full of love, understanding and respect that his next words feel natural and obvious.

            ‘I love you.'

The moment is interrupted by the angry buzzing of Blaine's phone.  Douglas smiles slightly and kisses Blaine sweetly.

            ‘How about this for a plan – you get that,' he gestures to Blaine's pocket, ‘and I'll get us some takeout?'  Douglas punctuates his suggestion with a kiss that leaves Blaine wanting more.

            ‘Just leave it – the voicemail can get it.' 

            ‘You should take the call.  I'm not going anywhere, remember?'  Douglas smiles as he teases Blaine with another kiss.

            ‘See – you're doing that thing again where you are perfect.  It's not fair!  How's a man to resist?'

Douglas laughs and kisses him again before leaving in the direction of his study to give Blaine some privacy for the call.  Frustrated and furious with the unwitting person on the end of the line, Blaine fishes his phone from the tight pocket of his pants and rolls his eyes when he sees the caller ID.

            ‘Hey, Killer – I'm not disturbing anything, am I?'

            ‘You know where I am and who I'm with, Bas.  What do you think?'

            ‘Down boy!  I can hear your smile from here – it is sickening.'

            ‘So, hurry up and tell me what's up so I can stop making you feel ill with my happiness.'

            ‘About that…  Jeff tells me your ex was fishing for your cell number – I was kind of surprised you hadn't already given it to him.  Just wanted to see whether he'd contacted you.'  Blaine rolls his eyes.

            ‘Bas, I appreciate the concern, but I'm a big boy now and if he wants to contact me that's not really got much to do with you.'

            ‘But it does because he messes with your head and Nationals are around the corn-‘

            ‘You make it sound like I'm some delicate, emotional, clingy wreck!  Bas, I know you care – it's really sweet actually, but I'm really, truly happy.  If he wants to talk – fine, but I'm done with his hot/cold approach and if he wants my friendship he's going to have to ask for it because I'm done apologising.  Happy?'

            ‘OK.'

            ‘Thanks, Bas.'

            ‘What for?'

            ‘Being you.'

            ‘Yeah, well – don't let word get out, OK?'

            ‘Night, Bas.'

            ‘Night, Blaine – now go get some hot, experienced tail!  Rawr!'

            ‘Get a boyfriend.'

            ‘Working on it.  Bye, Blaine.'

            ‘Bye, Bas.  See you tomorrow.'

His cheeks ache from smiling as he hangs up – his friend's laughter ringing in his ears – until he spots the text message.  He dimly recalls his phone vibrating back in Southampton, but he had been swept up in the drama since then and had forgotten to check his phone since they had returned to New York.  Kurt must have contacted him.  What could Kurt have wanted?  How many missed texts and calls did he have because he had lost his old phone?

He is a little surprised how little the thought bothers him as he reads the message then on impulse, and in need of some form of closure, dials the once-familiar number.

            ‘Kurt?'

            ‘No – he's finally sleeping.'

            ‘Hi, Rachel – are you alright?  You sound off-‘

            ‘Listen to me very, very carefully, Blaine Warbler – I have no idea what sick game you're playing here but –‘

            ‘I'm going to stop you right there.  If Kurt is sleeping just let him know I called in response to his text message asking me to talk.  I'm not interested in messing up his thing with Adam, if that's your concern –‘

            ‘They broke up.'

            ‘I'm sorry to hear that, but it had nothing to do with me.'

            ‘Oh.'

            ‘Look.  Just tell him I'm heading back to Lima tomorrow morning so if he wants to talk he has my number, alright?'

The brunette is silent on the end of the line and Blain briefly considers asking why she felt the need to protect Kurt from him, and what happened with Adam, but he feels like he's imposing on their lives.  He has no right to ask Rachel anything - if he wants to know about Kurt, it is for Kurt to tell him.

            ‘Good night, Rachel.'

            ‘Blaine?'

Her voice is thin and tired and it sends a chill through him.

            ‘Hm?'

            ‘Why did everything go so wrong?'

            ‘What do you mean?'

            ‘This time a year ago we were happy, weren't we?'

            ‘We grew up.'

            ‘I guess.'

A muffled sob echoes down the line and it is utterly raw.

            ‘What's wrong, Rachel?'

            ‘Remember Brody?'

            ‘That guy you were with when we went to Callbacks?'

            ‘Yeah – he was an escort.'

            ‘I can actually kind of see that.'

            ‘Blaine!'

            ‘Sorry, sorry – that… that must have been horrible to find out.  What happened?'

            ‘Santana found a roll of cash and a pager – they thought he was a drugs dealer but he was a gigolo.  And Kurt knew.  He came into NYADA with a black eye and told me we were over.'

            ‘Wait, wait, wait – what?  Kurt had a black eye?'

            ‘No – Brody.'

            ‘Kurt hit Brody!?'

            ‘God, no!  Can you imagine!  No.  I don't know what happened…'

Blaine waits to see if the petite girl will offer up any more information but as the silence stretches and the sobs start again he decides to prompt her.

            ‘What's really wrong, Rachel?  I don't think this is about Brody.'

            ‘It's Finn…  He's dead, Blaine.  Finn is dead!  And I feel like - it's not real and that I'm just going to wake up but I'm scared that if I sleep and wake up again it will still be true.  He's dead.' 

It is like a dam burst with the admission and Blaine cannot make anything further out over the muffled sobs and tears.

            ‘God, Rachel – I'm so sorry!  When?  I had no idea!'

His heart is hammering so hard it physically hurts – he feels light, almost like he is floating.  The world has taken on a surreal quality and his eyes feel wet, but the brunette's gut wrenching cries continue and Blaine feels utterly powerless.

            ‘Do you want me to come over, Rachel?'  He offers the first thing that comes to mind and immediately berates himself.

            ‘Can you bring him back to me?'

            ‘No…'

            ‘Then how could you help?'

            ‘I'm sorry – I'm here, OK.  I'm in New York until 10am tomorrow morning.'

Breathy sobs strike him in his chest and he feels winded, utterly at a loss for words.  He eventually hangs up when it becomes clear that Rachel's too far gone to talk anymore.  His thoughts spiral as his mind catches up with the shock his body is reeling from, forcing himself to take a deep breath, then another.  The ache in his chest deepens as his mind flits from Burt and Carole to Kurt – they have already had to go through so much with Finn's father's death, Kurt's mother's passing, and Burt's health scares… 

The hand at his lower back is grounding and he finds himself falling into Douglas' arms.

            ‘Bad news?'

He nods – unable to trust his voice or his mind to be able to form a coherent explanation.  He feels Douglas gently run a soothing hand up and down his spine and feels soft lips press against his neck. 

            ‘Finn's dead.'

            ‘Kurt's brother?'

            ‘Yeah.'

            ‘What happened?'

            ‘I forgot to ask.'

            ‘Was that Kurt?'  Douglas indicates the cell phone still clutched in Blaine's grip.

            ‘No – Rachel.'

            ‘They were close, right?'       

Blaine dips his head in response – he has no idea how to begin to explain Rachel and Finn's relationship.  Douglas simply holds him until a soft buzz from the intercom alerts them to the arrival of their Thai takeaway.

            ‘I'll put it in the fridge for later –‘

            ‘I'm actually starving.'

            ‘Come on.'  Douglas kisses him so sweetly.  Blaine allows himself to be lost in the sensation until Douglas guides him to the couch and leaves to collect their food.  They eat in silence sat cross-legged on the sofa, knees touching, and Blaine cannot help but be grateful again for Douglas.

-+-

            The weeks that follow go by so quickly, but in the wake of Finn's death things seem different somehow – as if the little things just seem less important and things that were terrifying before are put frighteningly into perspective.

Blaine sends a card and flowers to the Hudson-Hummel residence but does not hear from Kurt.  He does not expect to – not really.

Things are never, can never, be the same after someone dies so young and it affects everyone their short life touched in different ways.  For Blaine it chases away the last of the darkness.

-+-

            He tells Doug first – he feels he owes his friend that much (and he figures that it is probably a miracle Roger has not said something already). 

            ‘Well, that explains a lot.'

Doug's voice stays light even though Blaine can see the struggle of emotions writhing beneath the surface, and Blaine loves him for that.

            ‘I would have told you sooner, but I was scared –‘

            ‘You don't have to explain yourself to me, Blaine, alright?  Let's make one thing clear right now – I understand that much.  I'd have been scared too.  I even get that you told Bas – he's the only one removed enough and open enough for you to talk to about it, and I'm so glad you had someone to talk to.'

            ‘Doug, I –‘

            ‘Hang on.  I'm not done, OK?'  Blaine nods – he does not feel able to deny his friend anything in that moment.  ‘I'm hurt.  I'm not going to pretend I'm not.  But I'm glad you told me.  It's huge for you – yes, he's my uncle, but I don't really know him, and you do.  I guess that, so long as you never, ever make me call you “Uncle” I'm on your side.  Truly.'

            Hunter takes some convincing – but with both Sebastian and Doug supporting him, the other boy finally concedes that “so long as Blaine's happy” he is happy for him.  he is happy for him.

With the support of his closest friends, Blaine actually starts to allow himself to relax, and he finds that he is truly happy.  Even the Warblers notice his renewed passion and energy and the group perform better than ever at their rehearsals for Nationals, but as the date draws nearer, so too does the fact that he will be spending time with Douglas and Cooper.  Seeing Cooper means telling his older brother that he is in a serious, committed relationship with an older man who happens to be the brother of a family friend.  Hunter and Doug's reactions had bolstered Blaine's confidence, but he knows that this is it – telling Cooper means telling his parents, and their unknown reactions truly terrify him.  So, he does not let himself think about it and pointedly does not talk about it with his friends or Douglas.  He distracts himself with ensuring their set-list for Nationals against The Amazonians and Throat-Explosion is perfect.

So, when he walks onto the stage in Los Angeles in immaculate Dalton Academy uniform, flanked by Sebastian and Hunter, he is serenely calm.  He spots his brother in the crowd – due to final rehearsal schedules he had been able to put-off meeting up with Cooper until that evening – he does not expect the hurricane strength gale in his stomach the sight stirs.  His brother looks so proud of him that he suddenly cannot stand it – he drops his eyes and scans the crowd frantically, certain that if he did not latch on to calming chocolate pools in the next minute he would drown. 

Blaine feels Sebastian move to take his place next to him and it is then that he remembers how many people are depending on him in that instant.  He squares his shoulders and forces his mind to focus – he is Blaine Anderson, Captain of the Warblers, and he will lead them to victory.

The music starts.