The New Direction’s wait to the last minute was driving Julian crazy. He knew he couldn’t force them to get better at dancing no matter how much he’d like to, but he also knew that they could highlight the fact that the Warblers could dance and maybe it’s make the others look better. He wasn’t really trying to take over the New Directions, but he and his fellow Warblers were concerned about what would happen if they didn’t win. Julian sat beside Blaine, nodding softly. “You think we can do it?” He asked softly. “They.. seem rather set in their ways..”
“I think we can if we do it gracefully. We need to start pitching the ideas to the team in a less combative way.” Stressing his point with a lean forward–Blaine clasped his hands together between his knees and propped his forearms against his upper thighs. “Listen. I know–firsthand–how frustrating they can be. But they want to win as much as the Warblers do. It isn’t fair what happened that put us in this situation. I want Dalton back so bad it hurts.” God, did he. Seeing the place he cherished as nothing but burned away buildings and crumbling brick and mortar made it feel like a part of him was buried there. But it didn’t change reality and what they needed to do first was–. “We need to show we want to be part of them. Really part of them. Listen to their ideas and then offer ours. Without making it seem like we know what is going on now isn’t going to work because they’re failing. Do you think we can get everyone on board with this idea? I’m going to need your help.”
❝ I don’t know, Blaine. I’m not sure if I can help you with that. Things are complicated and I’ve learned with Quinn that I can fix things all by myself so… you should think about that too. ❞
“I wasn’t asking you to fix all my problems. Believe me? That’s a task I wouldn’t put on anyone. I just–I need your help, Rachel. Or at least someone to talk to. Even if you can’t do anything about it. Things were fine–mostly–until now and it feels like everything is falling apart. I’m really lost. Please? I promise I won’t put you into a compromising position.”
“Mr. Anderson?” Julian asked, walking into the choir room. “I..was wondering if I could talk to you about these dance moves. With all due respect to Mr. Schuester, The Warblers and I just don’t think they’re going to cut it,” he sighed. “We don’t know what to do.”
The boy wasn’t off his mark. The New Directions always seemed to get it together at the last second and it might happen this time–or not. The chance of losing was too big. They needed a solution fast What Kurt, Rachel and Mr. Schue had to realize was their answer was standing in front of Blaine. The former Warblers. How to pitch that and not come off as completely overly cocky? That was the issue. Sighing softly–Blaine motioned for Julian to take a seat beside him on the piano bench with a pat. “I understand and you’re right. Waiting for the Miracle Cure All is taking too big of a risk.” Especially for his boys. They needed this win. “I’m not sure–and it’s going to take some convincing–but I think we can do it if you and I work together.”
Skylar nodded as Blaine replied, biting his lip as he took a seat in the indicated chair. He set his bag to the side as he settled himself into a more comfortable position. Something told the leader that now wasn’t the best time, that maybe his coach had more important thing to attend to. But he also knew that he already came this far, there was no point in backing out. As he brought his gaze back to his mentor, Skylar took a breath before diving into his previously written speech.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed, but the Warblers have been a little..disconnected. Ever since Jane transferred teams, they have been upset. Which is understandable, however I need your help trying to get the team back up to par. We have so much potential, I would hate for this one incident to ruin it.”
Sighing quietly after Skylar voiced his concerns and only confirmed that they were on the same page–Blaine sat back in his chair and rested laced together fingers on top of his stomach. His thumbs jutted up in time with his eyebrows–an idea came to mind. “I have noticed. And the Warblers mean far too much to me to let this keep festering. You’re right. It’ll wreck us from the inside out if we ignore what’s going on and this team has been through too much to fall again. I think we need a challenge to focus on again.”
The Warblers thrive on the energy of performing above anything else. Why not give it to them? “What about a mid-season showcase? Assign everyone to pick their own song and perform it in front of the school? Or we could pair off. A group performance at the end could really be the kicker. We need something to work towards. Get our focus back on what means the most to us. Each other and the music and what we do best. What are your thoughts on what they need? Do you think this will help?”
Skylar gathered what was left of his papers off the table as his fellow Warblers went to leave the practice room. After hearing Jane transferred schools, most of them felt upset that they pushed her out of the school. As hard as he tried he couldn’t convince them that it wasn’t their fault, they followed the only tradition that the founder had left, it wasn’t a bad thing. Maybe it was just his point of view, but it was something he felt strongly about. Being a traditionalist wasn’t a bad thing.
The upperclassman waited for the room to empty before approaching their coach. He wanted to get a chance to talk to him, see if he would be able to use his usual motivational speeches to bring the Warblers back on track. Although Skylar was the head of the council, he still was glad to have a coach to help him. Especially one that was a former Warblers, one who understood what it meant to be part of this brotherhood. “Mr. Anderson, can I talk to you?” He asked, gripping the end of his leather bag.
Blaine retreated office promptly after practice. Glad for some peace and quiet so he could pull his thoughts together and focus. Skylar wasn’t the only one to notice the drop in the Warblers morale since Jane left. Everyone was quieter. The ones who kept stoic faces were few. Most of them felt guilty. In Blaine’s opinion–which he wouldn’t dare share with anyone? They deserved to. They needed to learn a lesson. That sometimes things have to change to become better, stronger. What he hated most about the situation other than losing Jane and hurting her? Was a small voice in the back of his head said he needed to understand the more traditional members as well. Until–maybe–one day? He might be able to lead them elsewhere.
Ugh. Everything was a mess. Much like the oncoming trainwreck of his personal life. Elbows propped on the desk–he rested his forehead against upturned palms. Damn it. Everything was out of the control he struggled so hard to get back. Out of it all? Fixing the Warblers needed to be his priority. And it was. But–seriously? Could he get a break? He barely noticed Skylar until he heard him. Blaine quickly shut down his too full brain and shifted into a welcoming, albeit still vaguely frustrated smile when looked up and dropped his hands to the desk. “Skylar. Sure. Come in and have a seat,” he nodded at the chair close by. “What can I help you with?”
Santana was still fuming, though there was an ache in her chest. When she hurt the people she loved, whether they deserved it or not — the guilt came fast. Once upon a time there were no consequences for her cruel actions. The only pain was hidden in hushed sighs && tears behind the curtains. Now she had an ALMOST visible weak spot. She use to blame Finn for it. Saying he mostly, along with all of her closest friends && loved ones made her weaker. In time she grew to like having that soft spot. Until it started to break. Reminding her why she had walls built in the first place. It was becoming more clear as time went on how angry she’d made her friend. His body was still but there was a fury within, spreading like wildfire. This might just be the day that somebody truly broke the calm && collected Blaine Anderson. Of course if anyone was going to blow up this island, it’d be Santana. It was hard not to back away when he stepped closer, especially because her usual reaction was to get in close, show she wasn’t afraid. Of course physically she had no fear of the bow tie wearing musical enthusiast. Mentally though? Well they say the people you love the most can hurt you the worst, && that’s exactly what he was doing.
His blows were low. As low as those of her own design. Each one sent chills down her spine. Santana was usually on the other end of this kind of situation, && Blaine? She would never of expected Blaine to be the one to turn the tables around. First touching on her engagement, he hit the weak spot that came for Kurt in the first place. That deep layer of insecurity she masked so well with sheer anger && disgust towards one of her best friends. It didn’t help that his next turn was right where her thoughts were headed next. The fact that the person she hurt cared about her. He cared enough to stand up to her even when he knew she’d retaliate ( even though he couldn’t of been prepared for how far she really went ). He cared && put himself out there to be by her side. Then there she went, betraying him because it was the only reaction that felt right for how he made her feel. It seemed people were correct all along, in calling her the wicked bitch of the west.
In stopping there, he could of seen her storm out, could of left her remorseful && insecure until their little world patched itself back up again. The way they always believed it could. Only this time, that wasn’t so certain. Blaine had used the ammo that could truly tear her to pieces. The one thing that openly brought her dark hues to tears, glazing over them like crystals. He brought up her feelings for Finn. For what Kurt did when he learned how much pain she was in after losing him. One of the touchiest subjects the female ever had to face. So when his rant finished, Santana felt destroyed. Broken past repair. && what made it so much worse? Was that she always knew somewhere deep down, pass the cockiness && laughter — that there was no going back. She was broken, && now THEY were broken too. Him calling her out caused the tears, ones that she was ready to run off && hide from the world. But his final words, his mention of being ALONE, is what provoked her to lift her hand. Ready to slap him HARD for what he dared to say. Only instead he was barely threatened. There was just a jerking movement that almost hit it’s target. The strike was just barely held back by what little will power she had left. In fear of putting them both in more misery, unstable && quick movements brought her away from him, not pausing once as she headed for the door.
The lowest blow he dealt came from a ledge that gave way to nothing but darkness he tiptoed past for months and artfully dodged by turning a blind eye to it and then turning to therapy when he couldn’t anymore. Thanks to Dave being the one to intervene when he saw it inside Blaine’s eyes when their conversations turned to feelings and Blaine–who was so often the first to wear his heart on his sleeve when it came to how he felt–couldn’t talk without shaking, tears building up and anger always was the last and most overwhelming emotion to follow. Dave connected to it. Dave was helping him fix it and he was so, so sure they won. His days were brighter, life was good, he was happy. If he ever doubted it on important days between him and Kurt (their wedding date was the worst)? He avoided the calendar, fell in love with his Warblers then went home to Dave for comfort.
This story was never going to end. Was it? Months of putting Kurt out of his mind were torn away with the arrival of his ex and all the feelings that he swore to God he was over, were there waiting for him to find inside Kurt’s presence that didn’t belong in the life he made here. They were done. Kurt was in New York and he was in Ohio and building something. Why did his heart have to break when he saw Kurt hurting and knew he was hurting because of him? Kurt was the one to end things. Kurt realized his mistake too late. It wasn’t fair for him to come back and complicate things. WHY was he complicating things in the first place? There shouldn’t be things for him to complicate! So here he was. Arriving just to tell her how wrong that was and then—. Hell bent on focusing all his frustration that came rushing in on her.
He never should have made the mistake and called him like Rachel asked him to. The way Kurt’s voice cracked was the splintering line of his patience and usual gentility when handling a volatile situation. Or person. Or himself.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to rip her in half. She didn’t deserve that. Yes, Santana needed to hear a piece of someone’s mind but…he went too far. For the wrong reasons. Suddenly–he just wanted to be at home. As quickly as it flared up, the anger rushed out leaving him spent and catching up to what he just said. Oh God, he hated himself the second he did.
“Santana? Wait,” his voice lost it’s razorblade sharpness as he bolted after her. “I shouldn’t have said.. Would you just hold up?!” Without thinking, he drew near enough to reach her elbow and try to get her to stop. She had to hear him out. She had to.
Blaine head was spinning after waking up in this how does this happen in real life predicament. Who thought anyone could top off an actual living, breathing bearcub in his and Dave’s bedroom? Nothing could put a cherry on that cake. Or so you’d think. The metal around his wrist was given another frustrated yank. Headlights?! He pushed himself back against the banister he was handcuffed to when he heard brakes screech before Burt could finish getting to the garage. Then watched helplessly as he ran up the stairs. Owlishly blinking at him–Blaine shrugged and wriggled his numb fingers. “I was walking to my car after work and heard someone running up behind me. I turned around and swear I saw Sue before I woke up here. Can you please get me loose before Kurt gets home? And who knows where she snuck that key in on him. If there even is a key. Or if he’d find it! Oh God. Tell me you don’t need a key!” Burt was a mechanic! He should be able to pull this off! “I just really want to go home..”
“Mr. Anderson… “ Jane was completely speechless by her superior. She knew that Blaine had taken a soft spot for her since she auditioned for the Warblers, but this was a little bit more than she really expected for herself. She wanted to be on the warblers, sure. It was important for her to be – not only for her sake but for her family too. They went through so much to just get her there.
She nodded her head though and let herself go inside the room, though still wary. “I appreciate this extra help, Mr. Anderson, but I don’t see how this is going to help. If they’re so set on keeping things in the male retrospect then like you said, they won’t break their tradition for me.” Sure it stung to say things like that, because Jane wanted it so bad and she knew she was good enough.
Sometimes defeat was just a thing.
“Because maybe I’m not as okay with keeping things in the male retrospect as the rest of them.” Blaine tucked his hands inside his pants pockets as he followed her inside. The dimly lit room was given a measuring glance like he was trying to pinpoint something he couldn’t quite catch. The tail end of his point he was trying to make to her–perhaps? A few overhead lights came to life inside their stained glass fixtures with a flick of a switch.
“That and,” he deflated and his head bowed. “You’re an amazing performer, Jane. You have something far too special to give up on because no one inside this room is willing to change,” one hand freed itself from his pocket so he could rub the back of his neck, “You know? The Warblers might’ve blindly lost a golden opportunity to have you as a part of them. Even if they can’t see it because they’re stuck?” He shoved his bottom lip up against his upper and shrugged. “Doesn’t mean others wouldn’t jump at the chance. More on that in a minute. For now? Do me the honor of one song before I ask you to hear me out?”
“Blaine! Do you really think this is a good idea?” Jane hissed to the older Warbler as the two of them walked down the corridor in Dalton Academy. She was genuinely worried right now because this was after curfew and all the rooms were locked. There were tons of other chances to actually sing together and Jane didn’t actually want to push it.
Her hand touched the boy’s arm trying to get him to stop picking the lock. “Blaine! You do realize that they’ll be thinking of any opportunity to kick me off the Warblers and if we get caught this is sure reason. I’d be putting a bad name for sneaking around Dalton late at night.”
“No, Jane, I don’t think this is a good idea. I think this is a great idea. Huge difference there,” he grinned as he finished leading Jane down the dark hallway with only the moonlight shining in through large floor to ceiling stained glass windows and sconces shining amber in their little crannies to light the way. Not that Blaine needed them. He could find his way to where they were going in pitch black dark if he needed to. The mischievous glint in his eye said he meant every word he giddily whispered back.
“Listen,” he kept working on the lock not mentioning the fact that he had a key. Why? Blaine was just in the right mood to see if he ‘still had it’. His tongue stuck between his lips and a determined flinch of his jaw in concentration later? When the lock gave with a feather light click–he grinned the grin of a person on the receiving end of a one sided joke. “If we get caught–I’ll take the blame and say it was my idea. Deal?” The door opened with a whine of metal against metal. “If they’re going to make it difficult for you–then I’m going to give you all the advantage that I can. Sure it might be cheating but—in this case? Cheating is a relative term that I am choosing to ignore,” his hand gestured into the dark room, “Ladies first.”
The females gaze narrowed the moment Blaine mentioned the tweedledum twink she’d shut down days before. He was going to get defensive, && that alone had her setting up defenses of her own. A rolodex of hateful words ran through her brain as she tried to listen to what he had to say. That was more than most people got from Santana. At least he started off on a semi-understandable note. Though his voice dripped with distaste, or disappointment. She didn’t bother learning the difference. “Okay puppy breath, I don’t think Kurt was that hurt by a few blows at his dance moves && creepy old people habits.” She should of kept quiet but the snark came out under her breath. How could it not when he was so pointedly attacking her? Even if it was well deserved, that wouldn’t mean she’d be backing down any time soon.
At this point her heart was pounding in her chest, the tension rising more && more with each passing moment of silence. He went on about how Kurt didn’t deserve it, but he did. The boy deserved the few quick witted, well delivered insults for what he said in glee club. How could he honestly be defending him? After everything, he was still Kurts bitch, && she wasn’t going to let it slide. “There are no words — for how absolutely PATHETIC you look right now. I can tell how hard you’re trying to stand up to me right now, because your over gelled hair is actually trying to defy gravity, only in a broken && totally repelling way, similar to Kurt’s rendition of the song when battling queen uni-brow. I think maybe it would of worked. MAYBE. If only you weren’t trying to fight with me on someone you can barely look at without breaking into some depressing song about broken hearts && lost dignity. You know, if you spent just half of the time you waste on the narcissistic purse dog you happen to still think is yours — maybe you’d stand a chance against anything other than a pastry shop. Now get out of my face please, before I end you.” Santana could tell she’d regret snapping at him the moment it stopped. Blaine cared about his friends, even her, through thick && thin. Yet here she was tearing him apart. Maybe some part of this was her fault, but that kind of confession still wouldn’t come soon.
Blaine didn’t go into this confrontation without expecting some sort of incinerating backdraft inferno exploding in his face. So when it came? He stood silently listening and took every word in with the drumming of his pulse in his ears as a soundtrack. Not a peep came from him until she was done. Though there were telltale signs of what her words were doing to him throughout the entire tirade. Prepared or not. He physically reacted in subtle ways. It showed in how he gripped down onto his arms so tight that the color drained out of his fingers and how the honied hazel of his eyes stopped exuding the light they normally captured and radiated back tenfold. Instead? They were darker, more serious and narrowed at their edges. The tip of his tongue pressed tight against the backside of his bottom row of teeth causing the muscles of his jaw to tense up. Finally. Either she ran out of words. Or she had to breathe. Something in him broke. Not in a loud, screaming sort of way. But something far more done. When he was sure he wouldn’t choke on what he had to say–Blaine slowly let gravity pull him from the wall he’d been leaning one heel against and took a few steps towards her–chin tucked down and eyebrows raised just to make his point crystal clear.
“Grow. Up. Santana. If all you have to hurt me with are insults about hair products that I’ve been hearing since I came to this school and degrading Kurt or what he may or may not mean to me? Are you sure you’re ready for such an adult decision as marriage? I’m pretty sure you should drop the middle school lash outs before you take that leap. The purse dog you continue to insult also happens to be the boy who tried to make things remotely better for you the only way he knew how when you were put through hell at this school. He is also that boy who didn’t boot your rear end to the curb when you randomly showed up in New York City proclaiming that you were going to live there. Why? Because he cares about you. You got to stay. Well. Until you drove the both of them so crazy with your selfish games they had to kick you out or go nuts. But most of all,” he stopped walking and stood there sighing softly. “That’s the same boy who told me when I asked where the heck it was and thought I was going to have to punch someone if they stole it from him again–gave you the most important thing that he ever had that belonged to his brother because he was so worried for you that he knew you needed it more than him. It was more than insults about dancing and old people. It was about his appearance, his personality, his entire self and you used me to make the hammer hit harder. Or do you not even hear what comes out of your mouth when you do this to the people that love you so much? Because–if that’s the case? Until you think about it? You’re going to keep on losing them until you end up alone.”
pianokeysandbowties 