They’re celebrating a victory, even though they don’t know what they’ve lost against. The whole club are assembled in the choir room, save for Santana, who’s probably “still locked in the janitor’s closet making out with Karofsky”, as Sam so concisely put it.

“Seven minutes in heaven? More like seventy minutes in the fiery depths of hell!” Puck added, waving his fingers in an attempt to give an impression of the atmosphere he imagines the pair of them both burning in, accompanied by Artie’s laugh.

They’re all still wearing their T-Shirts from the earlier number, the slogans blazing bold across their chests. The initial discomfort of wearing them has now faded now that it’s only them to see, and it makes them feel like equals for the first time in weeks. Even Rachel has lowered her control and is sat talking to Kurt and Mercedes animatedly, while Mercedes laughs and Kurt smirks, head bent over his phone.

“Blaine’s coming down. He says he’ll be here in about ten minutes. He says he’s got something to show us all!”

“Us, or just you?” Mercedes asks, a sly smile twisting her face while her eyes glint.

“No, I think us all. Here, he says looking forward to seeing you all again for the third time, got something to show you all, love B. So yeah, I think he means all of us.”

At that moment, Mr. Schuester emerges, bottles of drink nestled in the crooks of his elbows and cups in his hands, while Ms. Pillsbury carries more in his wake.

“Well guys, I think a celebration is indeed in order. You were all fantastic! I hope now that you feel a little more comfortable with yourselves and have learnt to accept your flaws as something that only makes you even more special. So we’ve got some coke, and some lemonade and a few other drinks, and some crisps and biscuits for us all to enjoy after such an amazing number!”

Will lays the items down on the piano, and immediately everyone crowds around them, reaching for crisps, pouring drinks into plastic cups and returning to their seats to resume their conversations after the interval.

Kurt’s phone buzzes in his lap.

“Blaine wants me to go and meet him outside. I’ll be back in a minute!”

He excuses himself from the group, and quickly finds his way through the now-deserted McKinley corridors to reach the main entrance, where he can see an unmistakeable silhouette through the door.

Blaine waves at Kurt through the glass, and his footsteps speed up in return.

Blaine pulls Kurt into a hug as soon as he opens the door.

“You look great!” he smirks. “Though I think you could have been a little more specific with what you wrote. Maybe Likes A Boy or perhaps Likes Blaine would be more appropriate!”

Kurt laughs, and Blaine presses a kiss to the bridge of his nose in return.

“So, what’s this big surprise you have to show us all?”

“Well, I heard what you guys were doing, and it seemed like a great idea. So I made this.”

Blaine’s fingers are trailing down the seam of his cardigan, undoing the buttons quickly and slowly revealing a white T-Shirt with black letters and Kurt gasps.

He meets Blaine’s eyes again, the ghosts of worry visible in his pupils. His lip is trembling slightly.

“Oh, Blaine - !” Kurt exclaims, the words echoing down the corridor as Blaine falls into his embrace once more, and then there’s a sudden wetness on his shoulder and he pulls away and –

“Blaine, are you okay? Hey, what’s wrong?”

Blaine chokes on his own words. Kurt takes his hand in both of his own, and holds it, feeling the familiar warmth and hoping Blaine can too.

“I’m sorry, Kurt. I just – I hate what I d-did and I can’t help it. I just f-feel w-weak and helpless and – God, I was so stupid!”

“No, no, Blaine, no you weren’t. You’re not – you’re not weak at all.” Kurt holds on to him tighter, not wanting him to slip away in the tide of tears, cradling him back and forth a little.

“But Kurt, I am!” Blaine dissolves in a fresh wave of sobs.

“No. You’re not, Blaine.” Kurt’s voice is firmer, more stoic, and the certainty with which he says these words. “Now, we can either go in and you can show them how brave you really are, or we can go and catch a movie or something and forget about everything. What do you want?”

Blaine looks Kurt in the eye, his mind swinging.

“Let’s go in, see the others.”

“See, you’re strong, Blaine. You can do this,” Kurt smiles reassuringly, pulling Blaine up and tightening his grip on his hand as they walk along the corridor. Blaine’s stomach turns.

They can hear the laughing coming from the choir room at the other end of the corridor, the light filtering through.

“You ready?”

Blaine gulps, then nods.

“Hey, Blaine’s come to join us in our cause!”

And Blaine steps into the light of the doorway and walks in, his eyes not making contact.

“Nice shirt, Blaine!” Mercedes calls, and Kurt smiles gratefully.

“Blaine, you look great,” Emma adds with the thumbs-up.

“I don’t get it,” Finn says.

Blaine takes a deep breath and looks up. “I was bullied at my old school, badly. And I couldn’t stand up for myself, so I ran away. And I’ve always hated myself for it. Always thought I was weak and stupid for doing it.” His voice cracks slightly, then falls silent.

Everyone is staring at them – Blaine, ashamed and Kurt, hand still held tight.

“Blaine, you did this. You did this and you are strong and brave for doing this. You have nothing to hate yourself for.” And Rachel stands up from her chair, walks over to Blaine, and hugs him. And then all the others are there too, arms around each other’s shoulders and it’s not just for Blaine but for everyone and for embracing who they are and what they hate and what they love and being proud of every trait they have and they’re smiling and laughing and cheering because they’re nothing special but that’s what makes them special.

“Now Blaine, how’s about we change that shirt of yours?” Kurt whispers in his ear as they all fall away.

He grabs the whiteboard marker, and draws a thick line through where Blaine’s T-Shirt reads Coward and, above it, writes Loves Kurt.