That evening, after dinner, Kurt sat at a table in the Senior Common Room working on his Latin homework and wondering where Blaine was. He was sitting at same table as Nick, Jeff, and Thad - Wes and David were off at another table in the corner pouring over a collection of wires, a few pieces of scrap metal, and what looked like a miniature satellite dish, and the way they kept furtively glancing around told Kurt that these items probably weren’t things they were meant to have. Jeff was struggling through that day’s Trigonometry homework, Nick and Thad, who had long finished it, sitting on either side.

‘No, no, no, look, Jeff,’ said Thad in a loud, annoyed voice. ‘Do I really have to explain this again?’

‘I just... don’t understand where you’re getting these numbers from!’ said Jeff defensively.

‘I already told you, I’m substituting all of the values into the algorithm and then those numbers are what happens when you do what the algorithm tells you!’ Thad exclaimed. ‘This is revision from last year, it shouldn’t be this difficult!’

‘What - what? Oh, god, no, not those numbers. I mean the... what’d you call them? The values. The numbers you’re putting into the algorithm.’

There was deathly silence for a second long enough to make Kurt look up in concern, and then he shouted with laughter at the expression on Thad’s face - he looked like he was about to burst with rage.

‘There!’ Thad shouted, violently prodding a spot on the page in the the textbook lying in front of them on the table. ‘They’re the measurements the textbook gave you. On the diagram next to the question!’

At this, Nick joined in on Kurt’s laughter - half at Thad’s rage, and half the expression of dawning realisation on Jeff’s face. ‘J-Jeff,’ Nick choked out. ‘You should not be that proud of figuring that out. You look like you’ve discovered the meaning of life.’

Jeff glared at Nick and then snatched up the few books littering the table, muttering, ‘I’ll finish this in my room, I think,’ under his breath as he stormed out of the common room. Nick continued to snicker at his retreating figure until he turned back around to see Kurt’s raised-eyebrow expression.

Nick sighed. ‘I should go talk to him, shouldn’t I?’

‘I think maybe yes,’ Kurt said.

Nick sighed again and stood up, following Jeff out the door. Kurt went back to his Latin, but was soon distracted again by Thad moving into his peripheral vision, and looked up to see him sitting down in the chair next to his. Kurt was immediately unnerved by the hopeful expression on his face.

‘So... moving to a new school’s kind of tough, huh? Especially getting used to a new workload,’ Thad said.

Kurt looked up at him and plastered a fake smile across his face. ‘Uh, yeah, I guess. I think I’m actually adjusting pretty we-’

‘Do you need any help with your Latin?’ Thad asked.

‘Um... no, actually, I think I’m oka-’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, actu-’

‘Hey, guys.’ Kurt jumped at this new addition to the conversation. He had been so distracted by Thad that he hadn’t even noticed Blaine had come into the room. Kurt smiled and gestured to the empty seat next to him on the other side to Thad, and Blaine walked around the table and flopped down into the chair, and glanced at what was spread out on the table in front of Kurt. ‘Oh! You’re doing homework. I’m not interrupting, am I?

‘He’s doing his Latin,’ Thad said haughtily.

‘I’m just finishing up - it’s fine,’ Kurt said with a wave of his hand, glaring pointedly at Thad.

‘Oh, cool, that’s great, because I actually wanted to show you something,’ Blaine said, reaching down and pulling his messenger bag onto his lap.

Thad took the opportunity to ask Blaine, ‘Did you start thinking about that History paper Walter set us? That was a harsh one for the first day ba-’

‘Uh, no. Not yet,’ Blaine interrupted with a fake smile.

Although the smile didn’t nearly reach his eyes, it still made Kurt’s stomach flip to watch. The soft dimples in his cheeks, and the way his the corners of his eyes crinkled just a little. And those eyes. They weren’t sparkling the way they would if he was actually smiling, but they were still so deep, and the perfect shade of hazel and - no. No, he wasn’t going to let himself think about Blaine like that. Or anyone at this school like that. It was him thinking that way that had meant he’d had to leave his old school and come to Dalton, and he wasn’t going to let himself repeat the same mistakes again.

He shook his head to clear it of these thoughts as Blaine looked up from his bag, pulling out a large book with a navy blue cover from its depth and placing it on the table in front of them. He met Kurt’s curious expression with a smile. ‘It’s the yearbook from the year Keating was a senior. And - look at this.’ Blaine leaned forward and starting rifling through the pages as Nick and Jeff came back into the room and sat down across the table again.

‘Got the Trig figured out now, Jeff?’ Thad asked in a would-be concerned voice.

Jeff glared him, and Nick said, ‘Thad - just shut up.’

Blaine looked up and glanced between Nick, Jeff, and Thad, obviously wondering what had happened before he got here, and then smiled, trying to lighten the mood. ‘Kurt? Look.’ He pointed to one of the senior portraits in the yearbook, and Kurt leaned forward to see a photograph of Mr Keating, a good fifteen years younger than the one who was now their music teacher. ‘Wow,’ Kurt laughed.

Nick and Jeff leaned across the table to see what Kurt and Blaine were looking at, and Blaine turned it around so they could see. Nick snorted at the picture, and Jeff picked it up to read the text that was printed underneath. ‘Oh, listen to this,’ he said, laughing. ‘Captain of the soccer team, editor of the yearbook, Cambridge bound, thigh man, and the Warblers.’

Nick laughed again. ‘Thigh man. He had good taste. Man, Mr K was a hell-raiser. Wes, David! Come look at this.’ Wes and David came over and looked over Jeff’s shoulder at the yearbook, Wes still cradling the radar dish in his arms like it was his first born child.

‘Wait, wait,’ Kurt said. ‘What are the Warblers?’ he asked, thinking he was missing something by being new.

Blaine shrugged, grabbing the yearbook back of Jeff so he and Kurt could see it again. ‘No idea. It just says it there.’ Blaine indicated on the page. ‘I haven’t heard of them before. I looked them up in the index and everything - there isn’t even another mention of them in the yearbook.’

‘Boys!’ came a loud voice from the door, and everyone in the room looked up to see Dr Hager, the Trigonometry teacher, standing in the door. Wes jumped and hid the radar dish behind his back out of sight, and David side-stepped so he blocked the table they had been sitting at from Dr Hager’s sight. ‘Time to get to your dorms.’

As all of the boys dragged themselves down the hallway to bed, Blaine slipped into step beside Kurt. ‘Hey, I was thinking...’ he began.

‘Yeah?’

‘If you were really wondering what the Warblers were, then... we should ask him. After Music sometime.’

‘Yeah! I - I mean... yeah. We should. Definitely,’ Kurt rambled.

‘You’re really that curious too?’ Blaine asked, doing very well to keep the edge of hopefulness out of his voice.

‘Of course I am. I mean, think about it,’ Kurt said as they approached the door to their dorm room. ‘Warblers are birds, right?’

‘Right.’

‘And birds like to sing.’

‘Right.’

‘So...’ Kurt said, shrugging nonchalantly as he opened the door. ‘I like to sing too.’

~

Later that week, Mr Keating had just let their Music class out, but Blaine hung back just inside the classroom, Kurt hovering behind him in the doorway. In the few days since they had discovered Mr Keating’s senior yearbook, Blaine had managed to convince all of his friends that they should at least be a little bit curious about what the Warblers were, so they all waited too, leaning against the walls of the corridor outside, just within earshot.

As most of the class had filed out, Mr Keating had leant over his desk with his back to the door, arranging that lesson’s completed worksheets into a neat pile. Blaine, hesitant to interrupt him with something that was possibly completely trivial, turned to Kurt, a nervous expression on his face. Kurt tilted his head forward and raised his eyebrows pointedly, mouthing, ‘Come on!’. Blaine huffed and turned back around, clearing his throat softly.

Mr Keating turned around and look surprised to find two students still in his classroom. ‘Boys! What can I do for you, Mr Anderson?’ He leant to the side to see Kurt properly. ‘Mr Hummel?’

‘Um...’ Blaine began. ‘We were - we were in the - ow!’ Blaine cut himself off as he felt a sharp poke to the small of his back. He turned around to see Kurt looking at him with raised eyebrows again. ‘What?’ he asked softly.

‘We?’ Kurt asked in a disbelieving tone.

Blaine rolled his eyes at him and turned back around. ‘Okay, I was in the library on Monday night, and... and I found - well, this.’ Blaine fiddled with the buckle of his bag and then pulled, from it’s depths, the yearbook the boys had been pouring over earlier that week. Blaine held it out for Mr Keating to see.

Mr Keating took a few curious stepped forwards, then let out a bark of shocked laughter and hid his face in one of his hands. ‘Oh, no.’ He took the yearbook from Blaine’s outstretched hands and turned around, placing it on his desk and flipping through the pages to find his picture.

Blaine and Kurt walked forward to look over his shoulder as he found the page he was looking for and started laughing again. ‘Sir?’ Blaine asked. ‘What were the Warblers?’

Mr Keating smiled and turned around, leaning back on his desk and folding his arms, looking smug and amused. Instead of answering Blaine’s question, he asked one of his own to Kurt. ‘Mr Hummel - you sing. You ever heard of a Glee Club?’

‘Yeah, of course. There was one at my old school. Like a choir, right?’ Kurt replied.

‘That’s right,’ Mr Keating said.

‘The Warblers were a Glee Club?’ Kurt clarified.

Mr Keating tilted his head to one side then the other, in a sort of so-so movement. ‘We were technically, I suppose. We never entered competitions, though. And none of us were in it for the sake of being in a club.’

‘So...’ Blaine began, glancing over at Kurt. ‘What was the point of it, then?’

Mr Keating sighed. ‘You remember what I was saying on Monday, up on the stage? About... emotion, how you can express yourself though music?’

‘Of course,’ Kurt and Blaine said at the same time.

‘Well, there you go. That was the point of it. Expressing ourselves. Getting our emotions out there in the world instead of letting them fester in the back of our minds. You two are teenagers, I’m sure you feel like you need to do that sometimes.’

Kurt and Blaine glanced at each other at the same time and then quickly looked back at Mr Keating when they saw the other looking.

‘Some boys had sport. Some had - I don’t know... painting. Drawing. Writing. We had singing. We found songs that said how we felt at the time... and we sang them. To the group.’

Blaine felt Kurt stiffen beside him at the mention of performing, and quickly changed the subject. ‘But... what if you were feeling something that no one had written a song about before?’

It had been the first thing that had popped in Blaine’s head, but Mr Keating considered it for a long moment, looking at Blaine searchingly before he answered. ‘Every emotion you feel is part of the human experience, Mr Anderson,’ he said in a serious tone. ‘That was one the best things about it. Finding that song, the one that said everything, even things you didn’t even realise you wanted to say. Knowing that you weren’t completely alone in feeling the way you did.’ Mr Keating looked between the two boys, and Blaine followed his gaze over to Kurt again, who was still fixated on the teacher. ‘Not a bad way to spend an evening, eh?’

‘No. Not bad at all,’ Blaine said softly, still watching Kurt, before he snapped out of it and looked Mr Keating confidently in the eye. ‘Thank you for telling us that, Mr Keating,’ he said, his voice louder and bolder now than it had been a moment before.

Kurt cleared his throat. ‘Yes. Thank you, Sir.’

Mr Keating looked between them again, wearing the same inexplicably sad smile he had at the end of their lesson with him on Monday. ‘My pleasure, boys. You’d better be off to your next lesson now.’ He turned around and snatched the yearbook off the table, handing it back to Blaine. ‘Burn that. Especially my picture.’

Blaine tucked the yearbook back into his bag as he followed Kurt back out into the hallway, curious to see what his friends had made of that exchange. Wes and David, who were closest to the door, leaning on the wall either side of it, looked just as quietly excited as he felt. Jeff was grinning from ear to ear, and Nick was trying not to laugh at him. Thad was leaning further down the wall, obviously bored and not the least bit impressed with the idea.

Blaine and Kurt lead the group the down the corridor away from their Music classroom. David quickened his pace to walk next to Blaine and caught his eye, nodding.

‘You think?’ Blaine asked him.

‘What?’ Thad interjected.

Blaine, Kurt, and David all turned to face him at the same time. ‘That we should start the Warblers again.’

Thad scoffed, and then looked between them. ‘Wait, wait, seriously? You guys think it would be a good use of our time to sit around singing songs about our moody teenage existence?’

‘Yes!’ exclaimed the entire group as they quickened their pace, acutely aware of how late they were to History and exactly how much trouble they were going to be in for it.

Thad faltered in the face of such united opposition. ‘W-well... that’s not even... How - how are you suggesting we get the sheet music, then? We can sing if we don’t have any songs.’

‘We’ll ask Mr Keating to help us!’ exclaimed Blaine. ‘We should at least talk to him about the possibility of starting it up again. You heard how good he thought it was - I’m sure he’d be happy to help. Come on, Thad. Everyone in?’

There was a resounding yes from everyone in the group except for Thad.

‘Oh come on,’ Kurt said impatiently. ‘It’ll be another extra curricular for your college applications.’

Even Thad couldn’t say no to that.

~

That night found Kurt and Blaine alone in their dorm room, Blaine sitting on his bed reading a paperback and Kurt at his desk finishing off some Trigonometry questions. Blaine finished a chapter and looked up across to Kurt’s desk to see him closing his work book and stacking it neatly on top of the pile at the edge of his desk.

Blaine marked the page in his book and put it on his bedside table. Kurt looked up and Blaine took the opportunity to break the silence. ‘I’m really excited about the Warblers. It’s a really cool idea - Mr Keating’s right.’

Kurt smiled at him. ‘Yeah? I didn’t know you were into singing as well as... what was it you played?’

‘Piano and violin,’ Blaine supplied. ‘And I wasn’t really, until Monday - what Mr Keating was saying about how it’s easier to get emotions across?’

Kurt stared at him for a moment with an unfathomable expression on his face before encouraging him to continue.

‘I dunno, I just thought... I’ve never really sung before. I don’t even know if I’m any good at it, but I may as well give it a try, right?’ The expression on Kurt’s face was still unreadable - he was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyebrows raised in what almost looked like concern - so Blaine continued. ‘Plus... what you said earlier to Thad. It’ll be good for college applications.’

Kurt blinked hard and nodded, looking away before standing up and walking over to his bed and gingerly sitting down on the edge, now only two or three feet away from where Blaine was still sprawled out on his pillows. He folded the edge of the blanket down carefully, tenuously shifting until he was getting his legs under it and letting the silence fall between them again.

Blaine, determined to keep the conversation going, pressed on. ‘Where do you think you’ll go?’ he asked.

‘Huh?’

‘Oh - for college. Sorry. Yeah, for college. Any specific schools in mind?’

Kurt concentrated on picking at the thread that lined the edge of his quilt. ‘Not really. Not yet.’ He paused for long enough that Blaine scrambled to form a coherent sentence about his intention to go to Dartmouth, but then continued with a sigh. ‘It wasn’t really that important at my old school. It wasn’t a…’ he waved his hand around in front of him. ‘A prep school, like this one. It was just the my town’s public school.’ Kurt looked up at Blaine, who was watching him eagerly, excited to get to hear about Kurt’s life before they met, then continued. ‘It was a really small town – it’s in Ohio, you won’t have heard of it – so most kids just stayed there. Took over their parent’s businesses. That type of thing.’ There was a clear undercurrent of disdain in Kurt’s voice.

‘But you don’t want to do that?’ Blaine asked.

Kurt laughed – actually giggled – at that. ‘No. Not at all. My dad’s a mechanic at his own auto-repair shop. Can you imagine me doing that?’ He gestured at himself – his thin torso and delicate features – and laughed again.

Blaine smiled along with him. ‘So what do you want to do?’

‘Well, I’d like to -’ Kurt cut himself off, and consciously changed the direction of his answer. He shrugged. ‘That’s the problem. All I knew was that I had to get out of Lima. No idea what I want to do once I’m out for good.’

Blaine could see that he wasn’t being completely honest, but decided not to press him. Instead, he said, ‘But you are out of there. You’re here at Dalton.’

Kurt sighed and said, ‘Yeah, but it’s still.. high school. I mean, even after four days I can tell that this is miles better than my last one but it isn’t... I don’t know’

‘What was so bad about your last one?’ Blaine asked.

Kurt looked up at Blaine, properly this time, meeting his gaze. His eyebrows knotted together, getting tighter as he spoke. ‘I was different. I... wanted to leave Lima. I didn’t want to live the exact same life my dad had. People didn’t like that. Thought I was... disloyal. Ungrateful. Weird. I don’t know,’ he said, his voice close to a whisper.

Blaine opened his mouth to say something but then shut it again, his mind having gone blank.

Kurt broke the stare and flopped backwards on his bed, hands above his head. ‘What were we talking about?’ he said, his tone forcibly lighter now, almost laughing with every exhale. ‘Oh. The Warblers, right. Yeah, I’m looking forward to it,’ he said, answering a question Blaine hadn’t asked.

‘Right. Cool! That’s great! You want to turn the lights out? It’s almost ten anyway,’ Blaine said, shaking his head to clear it of the thoughts he knew he shouldn't be having - the desperate ache he felt in his arms to reach across and hold Kurt, to comfort him; to make sure his bad memories of whatever had happened to him at his old school to make him come to Dalton didn’t turn into bad dreams as he fell asleep.

~

After classes finished the next day, Blaine and Kurt rallied the group and the headed from their various English classrooms to Mr Keating’s room. Blaine knocked on the slightly ajar door and heard a soft, ‘Come in,’ from behind it.

He pushed the door further open and stuck his head into the room. ‘Hi, Mr Keating. I hope I’m not interrupting anything, I was just -’

‘Mr Anderson! I thought I might be seeing you again soon after our talk yesterday,’ Mr Keating said, smiling at him and motioning that he should come in. Blaine filed in, and the rest of the boys followed after him. Mr Keating settled further back in his chair. ‘Boys - what can I do for you?’

Blaine glanced at the group surrounding him and then looked back at Mr Keating. ‘Well, after what you said, we’ve all decided-’ Blaine was interrupted by a loud cough from Thad that turned into a wheeze as he was swiftly elbowed in the ribs by Nick. Blaine started again. ‘We want to start the Warblers again. If that’s okay.’

Mr Keating’s face broke into an ecstatic smile. ‘Of course that’s okay, boys. I think it’s an excellent idea.’

Blaine smiled back, encouraged. ‘Yeah, well, we were also wondering - I don’t know how it worked when you were here, if you had a teacher or anything - but we would really like it if you could... help us out, occasionally? Most of us are new to singing, and, I mean, I wouldn’t have any idea where to even get sheet music, so...’

‘Of course I’d be happy to help out, boys!’ Mr Keating said, smiling even wider. ‘But...’ he continued, leaning forward, elbows on his desk and chin resting on his folded fingers, ‘I should have you all know that if you’re all in, and I mean really in, the Warblers, you will, at some point, have to do a solo performance.’ Mr Keating looked pointedly at each of the boys currently standing in his classroom.

‘That - that would be fine,’ came a slightly shaky voice from behind Blaine. Kurt had spoken up.

‘Excellent, Mr Hummel,’ Mr Keating said smiling at him.

Blaine cleared his throat before speaking again - this was the part he was most anxious about, because he knew it was probably not what Mr Keating had in mind for the group, but everyone has agreed it was a good idea. ‘Also, Mr Keating, we were thinking... maybe we should just keep it as us seven guys. At least for now.’ Mr Keating looked confused, so Blaine hurried to explain himself. ‘It’s just, the Warblers should be all about expressing our true emotions, right? And all of us are friends, so we’d be fine doing that in front of just us few. But... maybe not in front of other people? If that’s okay?’

‘I... think that’s fine, Mr Anderson. Anything to help at least a few of you express yourselves. I wouldn’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable.’ Mr Keating smiled reassuringly at everyone in the group. ‘And as for sheet music, I have an unbelievably large amount in my office; I’d be happy to help you find something anytime.’ He glanced quickly between Kurt and Blaine. ‘Anytime.’