‘I could feel the stares. Could see the eyes, cold with hatred of the unknown. I tried not to let them overpower me, but their intensity became too much. I began to slowly build the walls; my protection. It was a long and gruelling process – much like the real thing, building a whole wall – but the solid barrier had begun to rise from the grounds, shielding my mind from the prying eyes and ears of those who refused to understand. I built on my protection.'

Another month into his senior year found Blaine struggling between closing himself off and opening up to his friends. He didn't know what he thought anymore. His friends knew about him, knew who he was. They didn't, however, know about his past. That was one thing he kept protected from the world around him. Protected from all. All except one.

Absolutely no one knew of his current personal life, which made his time between his friends difficult. The brave face he put on everyday became exhausting. He was slipping up and he knew it.

Mr Hummel tried to help Blaine, tried to help him understand that there was nothing to be ashamed of. He didn't need to hide everything that made him who he is today. Blaine still remained closed off to his English teacher, however. He didn't want the boy – man, he kept reminding himself – to draw him any closer than need be.

Blaine had avoided any one-to-one conversations if it were possible, but that was made difficult when Mr Hummel would call his attention at the end of the class. Blaine almost always managed to find an excuse to leave; the Warblers, assignments, parents; but sometimes it was hard to escape.

In the early days of his senior year, Blaine had made sure to participate in class discussions. However, as time went on, Blaine closed himself off more and more. Of course, Kurt noticed and was worried for his student.

Although he didn't know Blaine personally or outside of the English classroom, he had heard around the school that Blaine was somewhat of a legend, an idol, someone that the many students looked up to.

It seemed that the Blaine he had heard about didn't exist in his classroom though, and that worried Kurt more than anything. Ever since he had spoken to Blaine about his writing piece, the boy began to close up even more than he had in the three months prior. Kurt knew that it wasn't healthy for Blaine to push the world away, he didn't want Blaine to end up in a worse off place than the student had been all those years ago.

Kurt was sorting out a stack of papers that needed to be marked when he heard a knock at the door. He glanced up to see Blaine hovering nervously, half hidden by the door frame. The obvious sheltering of himself shook Kurt to the core, knowing that this was only the beginning of what was to come.

“Blaine, how can I help you?”

He stepped out from behind the door frame and approached Mr Hummel's desk cautiously as if he feared it would explode if he was too fast. Blaine didn't say anything.

“Is everything okay, Blaine?”

Blaine reached into his bag and pulled out a stack of paper, silently handing it over to his teacher. Mr Hummel took the stapled sheets, giving Blaine an incredulous look. He hadn't assigned anything to the class this week.

“Practise.”

Not looking Mr Hummel in the eyes as he spoke, Blaine clenched his hand around the strap of his bag.

“Oh, did you want me to mark it for you?” Mr Hummel offered. “It won't go towards anything, but if it's a practise, I can give you feedback.”

Blaine only nodded.

Other than his usual ‘thank-you, Mr Hummel' and the odd word here and there, Blaine never spoke in his teacher's presence.

Blaine stepped away, moving to the door, this time proving Kurt wrong by simply giving a grateful nod. He disappeared around the corner before Kurt had the chance to say anything else.

......

Jeff and Blaine had been in the study hall for almost an hour where Jeff talked Blaine's ear off about anything and everything. He quoted random facts from his geography book, asked about subjects that Blaine didn't even take, complained about Nick's attitude and rudeness over and over – which Blaine thought was more pining than actual hatred for the boy.

He had grown tired of Jeff's ramblings – now only a long-obsession-about-Nick-Duval-and-how-Jeff-Sterling-cannot-stand-him. Total lie.

Blaine managed to tune the sound of Jeff's voice out, letting his thoughts wonder. It wasn't always the best idea for Blaine, but it was better than listening to his co-warbler talk – more like frantically talking Blaine's ear off – about Nick's habit of running into him when he had coffee in his hand, or the amount of times the idiot walks out of their shared bathroom wearing nothing but his boxers (‘Seriously, doesn't he have any sense of respect for others.' Jeff had exclaimed.)

So Blaine turned his thoughts to this morning. It had taken him a couple of days to convince himself to hand over his paper to Mr Hummel, and he had almost bailed the second he knocked on the classroom door.

It had been clear that Mr Hummel was confused as to why Blaine handed in a paper that they hadn't been assigned, even if he had told his teacher that it was a practise. Which is exactly what it was. Well, that's what Blaine had convinced himself. It was just a practise. That's all it was.

It wasn't something that he let his friends see. He knew them too well, and they were too close to him. Blaine didn't know Mr Hummel. He knew nothing about his teacher and for some reason Blaine felt he could trust him.

Blaine had become almost completely silent around Mr Hummel, even to the point where he simply nodded instead of voicing a thank-you. Blaine knew that Mr Hummel wanted to talk to him, to help him, but he couldn't do it.

He had never been good at voicing his thoughts, always keeping a journal instead. It was his way of communicating what he was feeling, what he was thinking. It was never for anyone else's eyes, or it wasn't intended to be until Blaine let his teacher in.

Blaine knew what was happening to him, but he couldn't control it, couldn't stop it. He didn't know how to reach out to anyone other than through his writing, so he gave his pieces to Mr Hummel in the hopes that he would understand and could help.

“Blaine?”

No answer.

“Blaine!”

Still silence.

“BLAINE!”

Jeff shouted into his friend's ear, jolting the dark haired boy from his silence. Blaine turned to face Jeff who gave him a curious look. “Dude, what's up with you?”

“Oh, nothing…I'm fine.”

“Nothing always means something, what's going on?”

One of the many great but annoying things about Jeff was his forwardness. If he wanted to know something, he just asked. He didn't care what the topic was, he just asked in the hopes that the person on the other end would answer and not slap him.

“Seriously, I'm all good.” Blaine lied easily, adding his trademark grin for better effect. “I was actually just thinking of how I'm going to knock you off your podium.”

Jeff leant back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh really? How do you suppose you're going to do that?”

Blaine didn't answer. He just stared up at Jeff with a mischievous grin that went unnoticed. Both his hands moved to grip the two paper piles on the table.

Oh yeah!

The paper piles that Blaine was holding were thrown into the air as Blaine stood up, floating as if carried by the wind before they fell softly to the floor. Multiple bodies in the room turned to face the sudden chaos, some of them that were in the Warblers joining in with the backing vocals.

So scared of breaking it

But you won't let it bend

Blaine weaved between the many tables, trailing after Jeff who was trying to escape the sudden onslaught. Once in a clear space, a couple of the Warblers joined in on some choreography, even including Jeff after some persuasion from Wes.

I am in misery

There ain't nobody who can comfort me

Jeff danced his way out of the door, followed closely by the other Warblers and the many students who were spectating. Blaine jumped between the growing crowd, singing off lines into the ears of random onlookers.

No one cared if their personal space was invaded, they were just as happy to sing along if they knew the words, or enjoy the performance.

Girl you really got me bad

You really got me bad

I'm gonna get you back

Gonna get you back

Blaine was engulfed by a swarm of laughing and smiling boys, including Jeff who was not one to take offence to a defeat. Blaine laughed along with his friends and fellow Warblers, all his earlier thoughts pushed deep to the back of his mind.

Jeff began a friendly banter with Blaine when the latter brought up the ‘leader board' and how it seemed to be altered. The two boys joked around until the small banter morphed into physical attack.

Blaine had tried to trip Jeff on his way past, earning the attack of tickles. Jeff launched forward and latched his hands onto Blaine's waist, digging his fingers in enough to cause Blaine to yelp without hurting him.

Before Jeff could get a good grip on him, Blaine ran from the corridor, not making it very far when Jeff grabbed hold of him again. This time instead of tickling him, Jeff simply wrapped his arms around Blaine's waist and picked him up off the ground. Blaine flailed his arms and legs, yelling for mercy as Jeff spun him around.

They both dissolved into laughter after a minute and Jeff was losing his grip on Blaine, who was trying to fight back now instead of flailing like an idiot.

“Ahem.”

The clearing of a throat ceased the boys' antics and they both turned to find themselves facing Mr Hummel. Jeff didn't let go of Blaine straight away and seemed to have forgotten that he was still holding his friend.

“Jeff, please let go of Blaine.”

As if shocked by electricity, Blaine pushed himself away from Jeff, keeping his head down. “Er, sorry Kurt, we were just…er, we were…”

“Boys, it's fine…just please don't break anything.” Mr Hummel said exasperatedly. “Oh and Jeff, Mr Rozz wants to see you as soon as you're free.”

Jeff bid a quick goodbye and headed for the Arts department to find out what his teacher wanted, leaving Blaine alone with Mr Hummel. “Blaine, could I speak with you for a moment?”

Blaine fidgeted uncomfortably under the concerned gaze of his teacher. He knew that Mr Hummel must have read his ‘practise' by now and knew that he wanted to talk about what he had written, but Blaine didn't want to be pitied, he just wanted help.

It wasn't until Mr Hummel stepped forward, giving Blaine a soft, “Hey, it's okay,” that Blaine realised a tear had slipped from his eye. He swiped it away quickly, hoping that would prevent any more.

Mr Hummel appeared as if he was going to speak, but without giving the man a chance, Blaine spun on his heels and fled from the room, leaving a worry stricken teacher behind.

When Blaine flew into his dorm room he dove onto his bed, dissolving in a fit of body shudders and cries of frustration. He wanted help, he really did. He was just so frustrated that he couldn't accept it, he couldn't let anyone in.

His writing to Mr Hummel was a cry for help, that's all he wanted. Why was it so hard for him to speak up?

Blaine buried his face into his pillow, willing himself to fall asleep so he could escape to his dreams and away from his reality.

He just wanted help.