Blaine hovered close to his mother, never straying far from her side. At first he had been embarrassed to think he was hiding behind her, avoiding the world like a little child, but then again, everyone around him seemed to be throwing him judgemental looks in his eyes so he stayed put.

He was surprised that morning, when his father arrived in the kitchen long after he should have left for work but he didn't say anything. There was a lot about his father that had surprised him recently, most significantly being how angry he'd been about the... incident. Bartholomew Anderson, the man who built a car with his youngest son to 'work the gay out of him', yelling at the school administration for allowing his son to be beaten into hospital for bringing a boy to a Sadie Hawkin's dance had certainly been a surprise. The man who had remained tight lipped, only saying what was absolutely necessary to his son after he came out was refusing to let his son return to that school under any condition that wasn't expulsion of those responsible and a complete reform of bullying policy.

This didn't happen, of course. After months of teachers and administrators shrugging their shoulders and ignoring the growing matter at hand, the most drastic thing to happen was the suspension of two of the five culprits for a week, barely enough time for them to be missed from the hallways. His father had wanted to press charges but his mother managed to talk him out of it and Blaine was glad. He just wanted to leave it, to forget about it, move on and never have to worry about it again. It was easy enough to do when the bruises faded but it would be even easier when he got back into the routine of school.

He hoped anyway.

But even after his father's response he hadn't expect him to come to see the new school. He guessed his mother had something to do with it and it comforted him to know she was on his side, even if she still didn't always seem comfortable with him at times.

His father stayed mostly quiet while they visited Dalton. It was his mother who did the talking as they sat in the Principal's office. Blaine sat, unspeaking, in the hard leather chair, wringing his hands lap and keeping his eyes trained on them. Twice he glanced up and caught the Principal's eyes flick over to him. He knew. Surely his parents had told him why they had applied for a transfer halfway through the semester. And if they didn't, he could guess, right? The splint was still bandaged to his broken finger and the fading bruise on his right cheek was still visibly yellow. They left little to be imagined.

Stop, Blaine! he told himself. Dr Simmons is not judging you. He is, as your soon-to-be principal, concerned about you. He is concerned about you. Like all good educators should be. He is not judging. He. Is. Concerned.

They were taken on a tour of the academy through the halls and the gardens. His mother asked questions about everything. About the teachers and the curriculum and even the oversized chandelier in the main hall where assemblies were held, (which actually had a fascinating history dating as far back as the mid to late 1800s). Twice his father took a business call and they had to wait on him to finish and the rest of the time he merely feigned interest but Blaine didn't mind. When his phone rang a third time, his mother put a gentle hand on his elbow but whispered a stern and warning "Bart" into his ear. The phone was turned off after that. Yet another surprise.

A little into their tour they heard a bell and doors swung open, spilling into the halls. Blaine all but clung to his mother - "it's okay, B, don't worry" - as uniformed boys filed past but even he had to admit there was a pleasant atmosphere as the boys joked and laughed. They nodded at their principal as they passed, some even added an 'afternoon, sir' or a 'hello, Dr Simmons' and each and every one of them smiled at the Andersons.

They're always nice when adults are around, Blaine couldn't help but think.

He didn't start at Dalton straight away. Starting in the middle of the school term would attract too much attention - attention that Blaine didn't want and that his mother didn't think he should have to deal with - so they waited until the start of the next semester when he could slip in next to unnoticed and blend in with the other navy blazers.

His mother kissed his forehead, squeezed his hand and whispered, "It’ll be okay, Bumble B. I'll pick you up later."

"I asked you not to call me that," he grumbled, the hint of an affectionate smile about his lips. She chuckled and kissed his forehead again.

He sat for the opening semester assembly, under the hundred and thirty year old chandelier, and then followed the throng of students as their made their way to class. He sat beside a blond boy - what was his name? David? Danny? Darren? Something beginning a D, Blaine thought - who smiled at Blaine and asked him his name. He asked about Blaine's classes and he seemed genuinely pleased when they discovered they shared some. Blaine didn't say much, afraid to say anything that might give him away but Darren/Danny/David didn't mind and filled Blaine in on the less formal workings of Dalton that weren't mentioned during the tour as they moved through the hallway to their next class. He noticed someone up ahead and smiled.

"Hey, Nick!" Darren/Danny/David called and a brown haired boy turned, smiled and waited for them to catch up.

"Jeff! M'boy!" he grinned when they were close. Jeff! That was it! Of course! Why did he think his name started with a D? The boys clapped their hands together, as if giving a high five but holding on in a sort of greeting. When Jeff let go, he rested his hand on Blaine's shoulder.

"This is Blaine. Blaine, this is Nick."

"Nice to meet you, Blaine! You’re new?" Nick chirped, grabbing Blaine's hand to shake as he gave his head a feeble nod. Nick gave a toothy grin. "Awesome. Fresh meat!"

Blaine felt himself visibly pale and his hand went slack mid shake. Jeff chuckled beside him, putting his hand back on his shoulder and steering him forward.

"Ignore him, he likes to make jokes," Jeff told him, before turning around to the following Nick. "Way to freak the kid out! He hasn't been to his second class yet! Let him get to lunch at least!"

The hand on his shoulder was gentle and warm. It wasn't forceful, more to guide Blaine than to actually tell him where to go. He could slip out of it easily and still appear friendly if he wanted and even though it only rested there a moment, it told Blaine a lot - most importantly, that he was welcome.

He followed Nick and Jeff around, though he never felt as though he was a spare part. They were best friends, clearly, but not once did they leave Blaine out, even if he didn't speak much. They included him in their reciting of tales of Semester Break Adventures but when they were arguing over who got more girls, they didn't ask or pressure Blaine to contribute, which he was thankful for.

Class before lunch was World History, with a young female teacher smiling brightly at them as they walked in.

"Mrs Evans, good holiday, I presume?" Nick hummed as they walked past, flashing was could only be called a dazzling smile at her.

"Indeed, Nicholas. Do you plan on behaving in my class today?" she smiled.

"You say that as if I don't always behave," Nick joked and Blaine saw her roll her eyes with a gentle smile. Nick fell into his seat beside Jeff and lowered his voice. "Such a shame she got married last summer."

"A shame? Don't let her husband hear you say that!"

"Oh, come on, Jeff! She could do way better than him!"

"Way better? I hope you're not referring to yourself!"

"Why not me? And okay, maybe not. But there's Blaine! I mean, despite all the unnecessary hair gel he's not bad on the eyes! Like a 1950s/1960s heartthrob!"

Blaine felt his face heat up and stared down at his hands, two fingers still attached together with the splint.

"A 1960s heartthrob?"

"Yeah, like Elvis!"

... "Did you hit your head over the break or something?"

"Please! Do not tell me your first thought when you saw him wasn't 'Holy crap! Elvis is back in the building!' "

"No, Nick, I can't say it was because my first thought when I saw him was more of the lines of 'Hey, he seems new. I wonder if he-' "

A throat cleared at the top of the class and the three boys looked up to see Ms Evans staring at them with raised eyebrows. Blaine was worried at first, but then saw the small smile she still wore and relaxed a little.

"Sorry, miss," the two chorused in a voice that sounded like it had happened way too many times.

"Boys," she said with a tired sigh, still smiling a little at them, "it's the start of the semester. How about we start off on a clean slate? I'll forget about all the talking you did last semester if you try and do a bit less talking this semester. And maybe try and set an example for our new student? Blaine isn't it?"

Blaine nodded and the boys chorused in perfect unison again. "Yes, miss." She turned back to the blackboard behind her, already covered in neat chalk words that weren't there when they walked in.

"At the start if every semester she outlines what she plans to do and we take it down," Jeff explained, pulling out a copy and few pens from his bag. "If we miss a few days we're expected to catch up but she's really nice so you can always go ask for help if you're not sure. You need a pen? Some paper?"

"No, I-" Blaine began but they were already sitting in front of him. When he didn't move to take them, Jeff gave him a puzzled look. Shyly, Blaine lifted his right hand where the index and middle finger were strapped together. "I can't write," he explained, "broken finger."

Jeff stared at it for a second and Blaine braced himself for the question. It would be easy to lie about it, he could say he fell or hurt it playing football or tennis, just as long as he stuck with it when anybody else asked, he'd be fine and no one would know how or why he got it.

But Jeff didn't ask, merely shrugged, and pulled the paper back in front of him, saying, "I've never broken a bone before. Here I'll write this out for you so you don't have to catch up later."

Blaine mumbled a shy "thanks" at the same time Nick hissed "Never broken a bone? What about the time you slipped on Wes's sheet music at practise and fell on your-"

"For the last time, Nick, I did not. Break. My. Coccyx!"

"BOYS!"

"Sorry, Mrs Evans."

~~~

"Come on, Blainers!"

Blaine looked to where Nick was standing a little way away from him, a lunch tray in his hands. He had hesitated when they made to leave the lunch line. Sure, Nick and Jeff had been really nice all day and they seemed to like him but maybe they were just being nice. He was the new kid and they were just helping him to settle into class. As though he could read his thoughts, Nick chuckled and made his way back to Blaine.

"Really, Blaine? You'd think we'd abandon you in the Dalton lunch room?" Balancing his tray on one hand, Nick reached the other one out to Blaine's shoulder and gave him a gentle push. Like Jeff had earlier, he left the comforting hand there as he leaned forward into Blaine's ear. "Beware of the Dalton lunch room, Blaine, it's a scary place. Walk with caution. Do you know that scene in Mean Girls when Lindsey Lohan attacks Rachel McAdams across the table?"

"Yeeaah?"

"Well, Blaine, it's pretty much like that!"

"What did I say about freaking Blaine out?" Jeff interjected.

"You said lunch!"

"Yeah, but let the poor guy eat something first!"

There was a pause, and then-

"Nick? Mean Girls?"

"Shut up! Kate made me watch it on Tuesday!"

"Remind me to send a fruit basket to your sister as a thank you."

They sat down at a table with several other boys, one or two he recognised from classes. Jeff named them all - "That's David, Trent, Thad and Wes. Watch out for him, he's got a gavel!"- and they all waved and smiled at him.

It was nice, even though Blaine didn't talk much. He laughed with them -sincerely too - and answered a question here or there. No one seemed to care why he moved here, why he was so shy and quiet or why he had a broken finger.

No tolerance bullying policy, Blaine reminded himself. I suppose I'm not the only one coming here for that? He smiled as realisation seeped into him. They know I might not be ready to say anything and they respect that.

"You okay there, Blainers?" Nick asked, a questioning smile on his face.

"I'm good," he said and Nick's grew a little which Blaine matched until Jeff's voice cut in.

"When did you start calling him Blainers?"

"No idea. Hey! You know what else Kate had me watch? Monsters Inc! I'm not even embarrassed to say that that little girl is freaking adorable! Like, seriously! If I ever have a daughter, I want her to be just like Boo and..."

~~~

"Are you boarding?" Trent asked at the end of the day as they were leaving class.

"No, we're not too far away, so I'm going to commute for now," Blaine told him and he heard Jeff let out a noise of disappointment.

"You could have been our fourth," Nick explained, patting Jeff's shoulder. "Jeff, Trent and I have a spare bed in our room. We were going offer it to you if you were staying."

Blaine smiled - his first truly big smile since the dance. And it was nice.

"Thanks, that's really sweet of you all," Blaine hummed, slinging the strap of his bag over his shoulder.

"I'm keeping it open," Jeff announced. "One day, Anderson, we will convince you to come!"

And even though this morning Blaine had been terrified at the thought of staying here without even the choice of a safe haven at home, he was excited at the prospect that people wanted him to be a part of their lives.

He was still smiling as he got into the car and didn't even wait for his mother's questions as he told her his day.

~~~

"Look, you won't even have to make a sound! You can just stand in the back and sway! Occasionally we add in a bit of a complicated step but it'll be to something Katy Perry, or Pink!"

"Sorry, Trent, but it's a no. Again. For the seventh time today!"

"Give it a rest, bud," Nick sighed over his fruit salad. "We've been trying since his second day to get him to join the Warblers but nada. It's like the whole boarding with us thing again. You know, Blaine, I'm starting to think you don't even like us."

Blaine looked up at his grinning friend and rolled his eyes at his attempt to guilt him. They had tried relentlessly to try and get him to stay but to no avail. That is until...

"Actually, for your information," Blaine countered, "it would be a bit pointless to start staying here with only a week left in the semester but my mom thinks it might be a good idea to board next term, just to, you know, get a feel for it, see if I like it."

"Really!?!?" Jeff exclaimed, clearly trying to hold back his beaming smile but failing miserably. Blaine grinned and nodded. It wasn't entirely true. His mother had wanted him to board but was wary, convinced it was too soon for him (even though Blaine knew it was more about the fact that Cooper had left for California the year before and she was still getting used to the idea of one of her sons being gone and two might be a little more difficult to deal with). Blaine all but begged her and if it wasn't for the fact he seemed genuinely happy here, she wouldn't have caved quite so soon.

"We have our forth, Nick! Finally!"

"Indeed we do, Jeff. So, little Blainers, when did you decide this?"

"For the last time, I am not little! And it was sometime last week."

"Yeah, Nick, leave 'ickle Blainey alone!" Jeff teased before his face fell. "Wait, you knew a week? And you didn't tell us?"

Blaine shrugged and skewered a piece of pineapple on his fork. "Yeah, maybe two." Jeff's eyes widened.

"You knew two weeks? And you didn't tell us? We danced for you! We sang! I wore a dress for you! Why did you put me through that?"

"You called me 'ickle Blainey!!"

~~~

"You! Change your mind! Like a girl! Changes clothes!"

That's it, it's settled, Blaine thought to himself, should I ever get a recorded contract, I am singing in this exact shower, in this exact Dalton dorm room. Best. Acoustics. Ever!

He didn't usually sing in the Dalton showers, he reserved that mostly for his weekends at home. It wasn't that he was embarrassed about his voice - he actually though he had a pretty decent voice - but his repertoire of top 40 songs and the occasional show tune didn't exactly scream straight guy. But Jeff, Nick and Trent were all at Warbler practice so he decided to indulge himself and belt out Katy Perry like there was no tomorrow.

"Cause you're hot then you're cold! You're yes and you're no! You're in then you're out, you're up and you're down!"

He was still singing when he got out, got dressed and slipped in some hair gel - just a little, no one needs to see the friz monster. That would be just as bad as them finding out I'm gay. Dressed in jeans and a navy Dalton t-shirt he emerged from the bathroom the four of them shared, still bopping to the music, into the bedroom-

-to find Nick, Jeff and Trent staring at him, wide eyed and open mouthed, and very clearly not at Warbler practice.

"Dude," Jeff all but whispered, "where were you hiding that voice?"

Blaine felt the colour drain from his face. He turned away from them, walking over to his bed to throw his shower bag down. He cleared his throat but didn't turn around.

"I thought you guys were at Warbler practice?" Wow. His voice was a lot higher than usual.

"We were," Trent said, "But Simon has tonsillitis. We have no lead so rehearsal was cancelled."

"We were just discussing who we could get to replace him in time for sectionals at the end of November," Nick added.

"But I think we found him," Jeff hummed and Blaine could hear the smile.

"No, no way, I've already told you!" Blaine said, spinning around. "I am not joining the Warblers!"

"Come on, Blaine!!! With a voice like that we could go all the way to Nationals!"

"Look! I can't! All that singing and dancing... It's... It's-"

"Don't say it, Blaine," Trent huffed. "Don't say the G word!"

"Oh, come on, Blaine!" Nick said, rolling his eyes. "The Warblers are not gay! You know we're the straightest guys out there!"

"It's not that!" Blaine insisted. He lifted one hand up, running it through the still wet gel on his hair. "It's not! It's just- I... I can't-"

"Blaine, what is it? What's wrong with be-" Jeff started but froze. He stared at Blaine and his brow furrowed. Then suddenly realisation seemed to dawn on him. "Oh."

Blaine felt his stomach plummet. He fell onto the bed, dropping his head into his hands. He heard Trent and Nick begin to talk but Jeff shushed them. Footsteps made their way across the room and a hand fell on Blaine's shoulder. He tried to jump away from the touch but Jeff was persistent.

"Blaine, stop," he said softly as the bed dipped beside him.

This was it. The truth was out. Jeff knew, Blaine could hear it in his voice. It was just going to be a repeat of what happened before. He didn't want to go. He really didn't. He liked Dalton and the friends he'd made here but now that they knew it was only a matter of time. Maybe he'd save his parents the time and money and just be home schooled.

"Blaine? Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?"

He didn't answer Jeff, couldn't answer him. What would he say? Would he be angry at him? Disgusted with him? Hate him?

"Blaine... You don't have to do this alone? I know it must be confusing but I need you to know-"

"I'm not confused," Blaine mumbled, and then almost hit himself for it when Jeff went quiet. The air was heavy with all the unasked questions from the last few suddenly being answered - why he transferred here,  why he had arrived with a broken finger, why he had been quiet and shy and why, even still, he jumped whenever he heard someone shout or touch him unexpectedly.

"You don't have to be worried, Blaine, we don't mind," Jeff said, squeezing his shoulder. "You have to know it's not a problem for us. We're your friends, we just want you to be comfortable and happy with who you are."

"Jeff, what's going-"

"Nick, will you shut your mouth for two minutes!?"

"But-"

"You really think that?" Blaine croaked, cutting off Nick and lifting his head from his hands. Jeff gave him a friendly smile and squeezed his shoulder again.

"Of course! No one cares if you like guys or girls. You wouldn't be the first one who's come to Dalton to find a sanctuary. We don't care if you're gay, we care about you."

And that was it.

His stomach eased, he found it easier to breathe and his shoulders felt lighter. He smiled at Jeff whose own didn't waver. He pulled Blaine into a hug and clapped him on the back once or twice and Blaine felt completely at ease.

That is until Nick let out a very audible groan.

"I feel like such an idiot!" When Jeff and Blaine looked up he had his forehead resting on Trent's shoulder and Trent was patting him on the shoulder in comfort. "I can't believe I asked you if you like my batman underwear! I'm sorry, Blaine! Really, I am! I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable! I promise! I will not make you feel awkward about that ever again!" Blaine couldn't have stopped smiling if he tried.

A week later, at Warbler practice, Nick burst.

"Okay! I can't take it anymore! Blaine, I have to know..." Blaine looked at him expectantly as he took a deep breath and prepared himself. "Who here is the most datable? Don't let the fact that I'm one of your most amazing friends influence your decision!"

There was a pause... And then everyone started laughing. Any tension that may have lingered around Blaine's first few Warbler practices when word got around had dissipated and everything was normal.

When they were walking back to their dorms - Blaine, Jeff, Nick Trent, Thad, David and Wes - Nick said, "No really, though, who's the most datable?"

"Wes," Blaine said, winking at his friend to let him know he was joking.

"Wes? Really? Why?"

"It's the gavel. I'm attracted to power."

"You say that now, Blaine," Wes laughed. "But it's almost the end of the year. Come September, I'm going to be working your voice to the bone! I want you to have memorised every single Katy Perry song by the time summer is over!"

"Yes, sir!"

~~~

Wes was kind enough to give them two weeks to settle back in, come September, until he threw Warbler practice on them. It was a nice feeling, being back. Even though Blaine had seen all his friends over the summer, it wasn't quite the same as it was in the Dalton halls.

Okay. He admits it. He missed the blazer.

But even in the blazer, he could feel a change. He was more at peace with himself than he ever was before. Everyone knew he was gay and no one said a word against it. It was just an accepted fact. He walked tall and confident through the corridors with Nick and Jeff as they made their way to class, (well, as tall as a short person could walk), and he felt good. Happy. Free!

That was, until Wes cornered him and shoved a bunch of sheet music into his arms with a very un-gentlemanly, caveman-esk "You. Learn. Sing on Thursday."

It had been decided at the end of last year that it would be Blaine who was singing them to Sectionals in November. Blaine had never felt more honoured. He had seen the impromptu performances the Warblers put on for their fellow classmates, knew how amazing they were, but to be asked to sing lead for them - or demanded, he supposed, seeing as how when he first walked into the Warblers, boys were throwing themselves out of the way to give him the main spot - Blaine had certainly never expected this when he moved to Dalton.

He loved singing with his friends, and dancing too. The hard work they had to put in wasn't a chore but a privilege; they wanted to give everything they had and more.

Blaine's first performance outside of Warbler practise was on the third Thursday of September was the most thrilling - and nerve-racking - moment of his life but afterwards he felt so elated. Boys he didn't know clapped him on the back, the ones he had never spoken to shouted out "Go Blaine!" and "Blaine! Dude! That was freaking awesome!" He was surprised they knew his name but didn't let it throw him off. It was weird, to have this almost-fame.

"Blaine, if Dalton were a Kingdom, the Warblers would be royalty," David said later at lunch when Blaine had voiced his thoughts.

"Royalty don't put on performances," Jeff said, trying and failing to skewer a baby tomato on a fork. "Clearly, we're rock stars."

"I'm with Jeff," Nick added, a mouth full of chicken salad. "I mean, we have groupies! Did you hear Crawford Country Day have a Dalton Warblers fan club? That's a whole new kind of fame!"

"They do? We should invite them to a performance soon. It would be good publicity."

"Wes, cut the Head Warbler crap for a couple of minutes, okay? Wait for a little while, we still have Sectionals to get through."

October passed - with several successful performances - and in November Wes had a mission to preform every Katy Perry song that existed. On a very normal Tuesday, Blaine left after World History, making his way to the senior commons. Break-a-legs were called to him as he passed and he sighed with content. He had amazing friends, was loved by the pretty much entire school, good grades and he didn't have to worry about bullies or prejudice - not here, at least. If asked if he needed something to make him happy, he would say he already had everything he needed. Once, he would have said a boyfriend, but right now he was content to wait. He didn't need one. What he needed was to remember the new dance steps to Teenage Dream they had only learned last night. He was going to kill Wes for changing the choreography the night before they performed - again.

It's step-step-turn, he thought to himself, coming to the top of the staircase and beginning to walk down. No, wait, its step-step-LEAN! Yeah, that's it. And then head nod.

Yes. Blaine was fine. He was happy. He was about to go and preform one of his favourite songs with his best friends. He didn't need a guy, not now. He just-

"Excuse me? Um, hi, can I ask you a question? I'm new here."

Oh...

Nevermind…