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Chapter Text

"It feels like we just barely got back from Lima," Rachel said, hurriedly folding a dress and stuffing it into her travel bag, "and now we're leaving again!"

Santana looked up from her phone. "Quinn is like two minutes away. Hurry your asses up!"

The New Directions were set to compete at Nationals in Philadelphia the following day, and Rachel and her friends were driving there to support their old glee club. Quinn had a car and was coming to pick them all up, so they didn't need to break the law again and use Santana's ill-gotten fake I.D. to rent one this time.

Kurt and Blaine were squabbling over whether or not they had enough room for another can of hairspray or another tub of gel when they heard a honk from outside. Rachel and Santana rushed to the fire escape and leaned over. A blonde head poked out of the old blue car below. 

"I'm not paying for parking!" Quinn yelled up at them. "Let's go!"

Rachel waved down to her while Santana ducked back inside.

"Come on, high-maintenance husbands," she said, grabbing both the hairspray and the hairgel and throwing them haphazardly into Kurt and Blaine's room, ignoring their protests.

***

"We're so sorry about running late," Blaine said to Quinn as he slid into the backseat with Kurt and Santana.

Quinn turned in her seat to look at them. "It's fine," she said with an easy smile. Rachel beamed at her from the front passenger seat as they pulled out into the street. It was amazing the transformation a year at Yale had had on her; she was quite obviously happy in a way she never had been in high school. They hadn't really kept in touch as much as they'd planned to during their senior year, but Rachel was still glad to call Quinn her friend and so glad to see that graduating and getting out of Lima had treated her well.

(She concentrated on tamping down the little flares of jealousy she felt when Quinn talked about her 4.0 GPA and being the darling of several of her acting courses.)

"How about a song?" Rachel said, interrupting Santana, who was casually starting to mention Rachel's trials with Cassandra July, smirk evident in her voice. Rachel glanced in the rear view mirror and saw Santana roll her eyes with a smile. 

"Oh!" Kurt said, wiggling in his seat. "We've done so much traveling lately but you know what we've never done? A road trip song!"

Rachel hurriedly pulled a small CD case from her bag and flipped through her selection. She twisted in her seat to beam at her friends in the back when she found the right one. "I have the perfect selection."

She popped the CD into the car's player and skipped to the right track.

"Typically the driver and owner of the car is in charge of music selection," Quinn mused with raised eyebrows and a wry smile, her eyes on the road, "but then I am out of practice dealing with Rachel Berry."

Rachel gave her a mock glare as the music started and then smiled. "Just sing along."

She and Quinn took the first verse. Rachel tilted her head and moved her hands with the lyrics while Quinn tapped the beat against the steering wheel. When they hit the chorus, everyone in the car sang together, grinning from ear to ear.

Rachel leaned back in her seat, enjoying the mini concert in the car even as she sang along. She wondered how the New New Directions would stack up against the sheer volume of talent of her and her friends.

***

"I suck at everything and Nationals is a disaster," Finn said by way of greeting when their group arrived at the hotel in Philadelphia.

Rachel frowned at his panicked expression. She could tell he was kicking himself on the inside.

"Nationals is tomorrow, Finn," Kurt said patiently, "I'm sure whatever's wrong can easily be remedied before-"

He stopped abruptly when Finn thrust a soaking, stained dress in their faces.  Rachel gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.  The beautiful, vintage-style costume was sticky and dripping on the floor.

"Oh my God."

"Really, Hudson?" Santana said, rolling her eyes. "Red with black accents again? Do you have any imagination at all?"

"They wore purple at Regionals," he said defensively, "and shut up. Mr. Schue's been too busy with wedding planning and his arts funding commission to help much, so this is my first time doing this all alone."

"What happened?" Blaine said, still staring at the dress.

"Sabotage," Quinn said knowingly, "I'm an expert. I know it when I see it."

"It musta been Vocal Adrenaline," Finn said miserably, "all the costumes are ruined."

"This is fixable," Rachel told him, forcing a bright smile on her face and patting his arm lightly.

"Where's the club?" Blaine asked, looking over Finn's shoulder.

"I've put them on lock down," Finn said, lowering his voice as though the New Directions could hear him, "in steady rehearsal for tomorrow. No one but Tina and Brittany knows. Mike's here too. He and Britt are with Tina; I had to get out of there as soon as the crying turned into sobbing."

Kurt pursed his lips. "She's been telling me how she helped you design and make them."

"I don't know what to do," Finn said helplessly, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Kurt!" Rachel said, looking up eagerly. "Kurt, is there anything you can do? I mean, you've always been good in crisis situations, and you do work at Vogue."

Kurt took the dress from Finn gingerly, wrinkling his nose. "Well, this is beyond saving. We'd need to start from the ground up." He looked up at Finn, tilting his chin up. "If I do this, I require full creative control."

"Tina won't like that."

"She can be my consultant."

Finn blew out a breath. "...I...okay.  Okay, whatever you want."

Rachel clapped her hands together. "I think it's time to go shopping!"

***

With a very tight budget in mind, they all made their way to the closest Target.  Weepy Tina brightened considerably when Kurt asked her to collaborate with him on the new costume decisions, and Mike sent him a grateful look. Brittany and Santana opted to stay behind for reasons no one was unclear about.  Finn confessed to Rachel that he was just pretending to be clueless about what their plans would be in his absence.

Tina adored Kurt's vision and luckily had everyone's measurements with her, so the two of them sent everyone else out in search of the required items: red jackets and black shorts, pants, or skirts for the girls, black jackets and red pants for the guys, and combat boots for everyone.

"The theme for the competition is Reflection," Kurt told Rachel briskly as he quickly walked down an aisle, perusing a selection of spray paints and throwing some cans into the basket she was carrying as she hurried to keep up with him, "and the setlist is Chasing Pavements and Some Nights. The costumes will be practical for the dance-heavy number, simple because of the time constraints, and still fitting with the vibe of their song choices."

"You're brilliant," Rachel informed him as they made their way to the group's check point.

After Target, Kurt, Tina, and Finn took a quick trip to a nearby arts and crafts store while the rest of them headed home to get started on alterations.  Santana and Brittany joined them again, both sporting smug, lazy smiles, their hands intertwined.

They all worked through the evening and into the night. Quinn and Santana complained about the waste of their trip to Philadelphia, but that didn't change the precision of Quinn's stitching or the way Santana's tongue stuck out as she frowned in concentration while wielding a can of spray paint.

"Thanks guys," Finn mumbled, "you really saved our asses."

"These costumes are going to be awesome," Tina said, smiling at Kurt.

"I don't know what belly buttons have to do with the military but I think I should show mine during the competition," Brittany said as she hung up another completed costume.

"We've been over this, Britt," Finn told her, "it's against the rules."

"The judges would just pass out from overexposure to hotness anyway," Santana told her pouting girlfriend.

It was nice to have so many of them in the same place again.  Rachel had missed the chance to meet with everyone at Christmas, but things were different now.  She smiled across the room at Finn, and one side of his mouth quirked up in response. 

It was his smile for her.  She'd never think of it in any other way.  She couldn't deny the yearning she felt in the pit of her stomach, but it was different now.  She thought back to her three years in glee club, to getting ready for competitions with everyone, with Finn, whether were just team mates or friends or dating or fiances at the time.  Competitions had been her thing, but they had been their thing as well.

Later that night, after everyone had gone to bed with tired eyes and cramped fingers, Rachel tossed and turned next to Quinn in the hotel bed. She sat up and gazed over at Kurt and Blaine, who were snuggled together in the other bed.  With a sigh, she slid out of bed and reached for her jacket, pulling it on as quietly as she could.

"Where are you going?" Quinn said groggily.

"I can't sleep," Rachel said, "I'm just going for a walk."

Quinn let out a huff. "Don't tell me you're going to go knocking on Finn's door."

"Go back to sleep, Quinn."

It came as no surprise to Rachel that she found herself walking the couple blocks from their hotel to the theater where Nationals was being held.  A door directly to backstage from outside was still open, probably because there were still some tech guys loading up a truck.  Rachel slipped in, stuffing her hands in her pockets, and walked out onto the stage.  There was no spotlight, just the dim glow of the wall lights around the audience and the lights that ran along the aisles.

The stage had always been special to her. When she was a little girl winning competitions, when her dads made her one in their basement, dance recitals, plays...but new meanings had joined old during her time with New Directions.  The stage became a place not just of stardom, but of family, friends, acceptance...love.

"Hey.  Should've known I'd find you here."

Rachel turned around and saw Finn in the wings. He smiled a little and walked forward, his hands in his pockets too.

"I couldn't sleep," she told him.

"Me either. I'm nervous about tomorrow."

"I'm not." Rachel smiled up at him. "I can't wait to see what you've accomplished with these kids."

"I'm really glad you guys came. We would've been screwed."

Rachel turned and walked downstage. "It reminds me of our sophomore year...do you remember? Ms. Sylvester leaked our setlist and we were all freaking out." She looked over her shoulder at him. "And then you came in like a knight in shining armor with a new setlist and a plan of action. You saved the day. You saved glee club. None of this would be happening right now if it wasn't for that."

Finn walked towards her. "Remember Regionals in junior year? The first time we did original songs. Your idea."

"I remember the song you wrote for Nationals that year."

Finn stood beside her and shrugged his shoulders. "That didn't turn out so good, though."

"I don't know," Rachel mused, nudging him with her shoulder, "I seem to recall a pretty amazing kiss."

Finn's cheeks turned pink. "I think my favorite competition..."

"Nationals last year?"

"No," he said quietly, "I mean, that was super awesome and basically made us all celebrities at school, but...I think my favorite will always be Regionals in our sophomore year."

Rachel laughed. "We didn't even win that!"

"We didn't." Finn turned to face her. "But that was the first time I told you I loved you. And you told me you loved me back."

Rachel's heart squeezed painfully at the memory of it.  "Finn..."

"If you had a do-over, would you take it all back? I know I...screwed up, a lot.  I was a jerk a lot and I...I broke your heart."

Rachel frowned at his pained expression.  "No. There are...there are things I would do differently, but I could never take it all back.  I could never regret loving you."

"We can't have it back now, though."

Rachel shook her head. "We can't." She gazed up at the handsome face that would always have a part of her heart. Suddenly, she reached up and pushed his little bit of bangs off his forehead. "Your girl is lovely, Finn."

Finn frowned in confusion.  "I don't get it."

Rachel smiled wistfully. "That's okay. It's for me."

"Would it be weird if we hugged?"

Rachel stood up on her tip toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her head against his chest as his arms circled her waist.  She felt him press a soft kiss to her hair.

"I'd better get back," Finn said as he let go of her, "I should probably have some brains in my head for the sake of the club tomorrow."

"Okay."

"D'you want me to walk you back to the hotel? It's dark out."

Rachel patted his arm. "I'll be fine. I just want to stay and...be on the stage for a little while."

She sat on the edge of the stage for a while after he left, wiping away an errant couple of tears. She expected to be struck with a flood of hurt and longing, but instead all she felt was a sort of bittersweet release.

A song slipped into her mind, and without even thinking about it, she started to hum the introduction.

Chapter Text

Kurt shifted in his seat, drumming his fingers against the paper of the program resting on his knees.  He started to stand up.

“I think I should just duck backstage for a second and make sure-”

“Nope,” Blaine said, tugging him back down into his seat in the crowded theater, “your work is done. The costumes are amazing. Now it’s up to the club to do the rest, and you get to relax and enjoy the show with me.”

Kurt blew out a breath, smiling at his boyfriend as their hands slotted together.  Finn appeared at the end of the aisle, shuffling past Santana, Quinn, and Rachel to sit next to Kurt.  He looked about ten times as nervous as Kurt felt.

“Warn me if you’re going to throw up,” Kurt said to him wryly, “these pants cost more than your wardrobe put together.”

Finn just nodded tensely, gripping the arms of his seat as the house lights dimmed, like he was a white-knuckle flyer preparing for a rough patch of turbulence. He stayed like that through the MC’s entire introduction, flinching slightly when he heard “New Directions.”  Kurt fanned him with his program, too amused to bother with his own nerves now.

The performances started, and Kurt settled back to watch, applauding politely and exchanging whispered commentary with Blaine after each number.  

When Tina walked on stage alone, clad in a red military jacket with gold embellishments, black shorts, and gold combat boots, he sat up straighter.  She looked like she was fighting a smile as she took her place center stage.

“She looks incredible,” he heard Mike whisper to Blaine on his other side.  Rachel leaned forward and gave Kurt a thumbs up, grinning, as the music started.

“I’ve made up my mind, no need to think it over,” Tina sang, her eyes closed, up on stage by herself.  Kurt smiled wide; he knew how much this mean to her, to finally step out of the shadows and into the spotlight.  He knew that desire well, and if the past year had taught him anything, it was that he could shine in many different ways.

With his evaluation right around the corner, what he wanted most of all was to shine at Vogue.

“...should I give up, or should I just keep chasing pavements, even if it leads nowhere?”

Everything was on the line. His job, his future...he hungrily thought of the prospect of a promotion as the other New Directions girls filed on to the stage, backing Tina up.  He thought of the dream of Paris in the winter, of climbing the ranks, as he surveyed his handiwork.  The girls really did look fabulous, with each of them wearing variations of the same idea that best suited their frames.  Tina’s and Brittany’s shorts showed off their legs, Harmony and Unique’s skirts and leggings highlighted their curves, Dottie and Kitty’s full-length pants gave them extra length.

He glanced over at Blaine, who was smiling and tapping his foot to the music.

“...waiting as my heart drops and my back begins to tingle. Finally, could this be it?”

Tina’s voice soared as the guys joined in, walking down the aisles and adding to the harmonies, looking sharp in their red pants, black military jackets with gold embellishments, and boots to match the girls’.

Kurt felt Finn touch his arm and watched him visibly relax.

“Thanks, bro,” his brother whispered, and Kurt smiled and patted his hand in return.  New Directions worked through the rest of the song, executing twirling, shifting choreography, until Tina finished the song herself, her voice soft and sweet, and they all moved into position for their next number to cheers and enthusiastic applause.  Kurt clapped hard as Blaine cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered.

Finn had already relaxed, but Kurt knew this was the moment of truth. The second number was much more dance-heavy.  It was time to see if the high of designing the costumes, seeing everyone bring his vision to life, and his enthusiastic yet painstaking attention to every little detail had paid off.

Or maybe costume pieces would go flying and Brittany would end up having a Janet Jackson Nipplegate moment.

Artie, downstage right, tilted his head up and started to sing, the rest of the club backing him up.

“Some nights I stay up, cashing in my bad luck, some nights I call it a draw…”

It was truly an ensemble number.  Artie seemed like the technical lead, but as the number progressed, Sam, Tina, Brittany, Unique, the Gerber baby, and all the rest had a line here or there.  Kurt was proud of Finn; he had really broken from Mr. Schuester’s tradition of the romantic leads dominating everything - he knew under other circumstances, Harmony would’ve had Tina’s solo, and she and Sam would have led Some Nights.

Kurt watched the number with a careful eye, worrying his lip when Brittany and Jake executed flips, when Tina and Kitty jumped and spun in the air.  They looked good.  He breathed in deeply, smiling.

“The costumes look fantastic,” Blaine whispered in his ear, and Kurt smiled wider, folding his arm up and pressing his knuckle to his mouth.

As Harmony and Unique strutted the length of the stage, he squinted his eyes and pretended they were walking the runway, showing off his designs.

The New Directions hit their final poses as they sang the last note, and everyone jumped up, cheering and clapping.

“They’ve got this in the bag,” Kurt heard Rachel say to Finn, “Vocal Adrenaline hasn’t been the same since Jess- um, since we beat them last year. And they don’t even have Unique now.”

Finn nodded. “I think we got this.” His voice was filled with nerves, but Kurt could tell he meant it.  It was nice to see his best friend and brother getting along without some melodrama getting in the way and causing them pain and everyone else incredible irritation.  Finn shuffled out of the aisle again to join the club.

The finalists crowded onto the stage. Kurt gripped Blaine’s hand like the glee club held on to each other and they all waited with bated breath as the MC congratulated all the groups, announced Keys and Harmony in third place, and then slowly slipped open the envelope.  Finn looked like he was going to throw up.

“...and the 2013 National Showchoir Champions are...from William McKinley High School, the New Directions!”

Kurt bounced on his feet, cheering.  The glee club abruptly lost it, jumping up and down, screaming, exchanging hugs and kisses.  Kurt and Blaine threw their arms around each other and swayed until Rachel launched herself at them, beaming. The three of them looked up at the stage, where Finn was grinning from ear to ear, hugging and shaking hands with everyone.  He waved at them as the confetti rained down, as he was handed the trophy. He passed it to Tina and Artie, who shouted and raised it into the air.

***

“I can’t believe I Ieft them alone at the hotel,” Finn mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kurt told him, “remember when Mr. Schue left us alone in New York for an entire weekend? This is just a couple hours.”

“The competition is over,” Rachel said, patting his arm, “and you won. And they’re probably all exhausted.”

“Besides, Mike is there, and he’s more responsible than you anyway. And Santana will be too busy with Brittany to bother to stir up trouble,” Quinn said mildly, sipping her drink.

They were sitting in a Greek restaurant, finishing up a late dinner in celebration of the club’s win. Toasts were made to Finn and to Kurt for salvaging the costume situation. Blaine kept playing footsie with Kurt under the table, a welcome distraction from his thoughts, which, the rush of creating the costumes and watching the competition over, had returned full-force to his anxiety over his meeting with Isabelle next week.  Everyone was in high spirits, but he’d grown rather subdued.  Blaine squeezed his hand gently and he gave him a small smile in return.

“You okay, Kurt?”

“I’m fine, Finn,” Kurt reassured him. It’s not like he was going to talk about how his mind kept running over his various screw-ups and times he thought for sure Isabelle would fire him. If he was lucky, she’d let him keep the same internship position. He was still very young and new and green. He could work his way up. It was silly to expect a pay raise or, even more unbelievable, a spot on the Paris team.

But, oh, how he wanted it.

Quinn leaned back in her seat. “Obviously something’s on your mind. I think we should get out of here.”

“And go where?” Rachel asked.

Quinn smiled.

Two car rides and a couple of quick stops later, and the five of them were sitting on the steps in front of the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

“I know it’s a little cliche,” Quinn had told them as she drove them there, “but well, no one in this group of people has ever shied away from cheesy cliches.”

They shared a bottle of wine Quinn had procured for them with her fake I.D. and talked and laughed, reminiscing about their own Nationals win the year previous.

“I mean, it was amazing that we won,” Kurt said, the wine’s buzz making him giggle into Blaine’s shoulder, “but the real miracle was getting Rachel Berry to voluntarily give up a solo.”

They all laughed and teased Rachel, who protested loudly at this.

“- just don’t ever say I’m not capable of personal growth,” she told them primly, and then poked Kurt in the stomach. “Besides, I know you’re just trying to distract yourself from your evaluation on Friday.”

“Oh, that’s this Friday?” Finn gave him a sympathetic look, and Kurt groaned.  Leave it to Rachel to announce it to the world.

“I know you’re a big fan of stealing other people’s thunder,” he grumbled to her, “but this is supposed to be Finn’s night.”

“Finn, Schminn,” Quinn said, crawling on the steps over to him, ignoring Finn’s “Hey!”, “what evaluation do you have?”

“Only an incredibly important meeting with his boss, Isabelle Wright, editor of Vogue.com,” Rachel said, wide-eyed.

“One that he’s going to ace,” Blaine added, rubbing Kurt’s knee.

Kurt sighed. “It’s just stressing me out, and I’d rather not talk about it,” he told Quinn.

“Why don’t you sing about it?”

Kurt looked over at Finn, who shrugged innocently. “What? That’s what you always tell me to do. Ever since we first started being friends.”

They were all looking at him expectantly, even Quinn, though an amused smile played on her lips.  Kurt raised his eyebrow.  “And I suppose you all think you know what song is appropriate?”

Blaine leaned in close. “There’s really only one option, considering the circumstances.” He kissed his cheek and jumped up, dancing as soon as the music from Rachel’s iPod blared through its tiny speakers.  He offered Kurt his hand, grinning, and Kurt took it, smiling and shaking his head as Blaine pulled him to his feet and pulled him into a goofy slow dance while Rachel and Quinn ran over to Finn and pulled him up.  They twirled and shimmied, Finn awkwardly bounced around, and Kurt found himself giggling again.

“Rising up, back on the street, did my time, took my chances,” Finn sang, “went the distance, now I’m back on my feet, just a man and his will to survive!”

“So many times, it happens too fast,” Rachel took over, booping Kurt on the nose, “you trade your passion for glory.  Don’t lose your grip on the dreams of the past; you must fight just to keep them alive!”

“It’s the eye of the tiger,” Kurt sang out, “the thrill of the fight, rising up to the challenge of our rival…”

Quinn had said it was cliche, and they really couldn’t make it more so at this point.  Or so Kurt thought, until Blaine started air-boxing and Quinn began running up the long flight of stairs, the others following behind her, as she started singing the next verse: “Face to face, out in the heat, hanging tough, staying hungry, they stack the odds ‘til we take to the street for the kill with the skill to survive!”

Kurt felt the burn in his legs as they all continued the run up the endless stairs and he sang the chorus again, trying to control his breathing.  He concentrated on the flex of the muscles in Blaine’s legs and butt in front of him as a distraction until Blaine slowed down enough to take his hand and keep running.

“Rising up, straight to the top, had the guts, got the glory, went the distance, now I’m not going to stop - just a man and his will to survive!”

They reached the top and danced around, finishing the song all together.

“...and he’s watching us all in the eye of the tiger!”

Kurt was no sports movie fan, but he couldn’t help thrusting his arms in the air. His respect for cinema demanded a recreation of the iconic Rocky moment.

And he did feel pretty triumphant.

***

After a late night and a good portion of that cheap wine, Kurt was feeling a little worse for wear the next morning. But they were all packed up and ready to go at 10 AM, and Kurt lay belly down on the bed, Blaine sitting on his butt and rubbing his back, his hands sure and steady, gentle and methodical.  Kurt hummed happily at the feeling of his boyfriend’s touch, melting into the mattress as they waited for Rachel and Quinn to finish getting ready.

There was a loud, obnoxious series of knocks on the door that could only be Santana.  Kurt groaned in disappointment when Blaine leaned over and kissed the back of his neck, whispering, “Sorry, baby,” before hopping off the bed to answer.  Kurt rolled onto his side to see Blaine swing the door open.

“The hell is taking you prima donnas so long?” Santana barked. For the first time that weekend other than the competition, she was alone, rather than attached at the hip to Brittany.

“Check out isn’t for another hour,” Blaine told her in amusement, crossing his arms and leaning against the door.

“I don’t care. I gots places to be that aren’t here, so hurry your asses up, please,” Santana said, ending on a sweet smile that didn’t match her tone, and she pressed her fingertips to her lips and smacked Blaine’s cheek lightly, flipping her hair as she marched down the hall.

“Next time, I’m bringing some weed,” Quinn said as she applied concealer under her eyes, “wine always hits me hard the next morning.”

When they made their way to the lobby 15 minutes later, joined by Finn, Kurt was surprised to see the New Directions all waiting there, dressed in their costumes from the competition. Mike and Santana were standing with them, grinning.

“What’s going on?” Finn asked, looking confused, as Mike and Santana moved to join them.

“We just wanted to thank all of you for supporting us at Nationals this year,” Artie said, “so last night, we prepared a number for you.”

“Especially for Finn and Kurt,” Tina added, “because Finn, you really stepped up this year to lead us to victory, and Kurt, without your creative genius, we would’ve been doomed.”

“So sit down,” Mike said, as he and Santana led them all over to some chairs set up near the front desk, “and enjoy.”

The music started, and the New Directions swayed together, smiling.

“I call you when I need you, my heart’s on fire…” Tina started them off.

Kurt could feel his cheeks heating up as he fought to keep a giant grin from taking over his face.

Artie took over: “You bring a lifetime of promises and a world of dreams…”

People in the lobby were looking over, pulling out their phones and filming as the singing got louder and the New Directions got more boisterous, separating and dancing around.

“You’re simply the best! Better than all the rest! Better than anyone, anyone I’ve ever met!”  They all sang.  Brittany and Tina skipped forward and pulled Santana and Mike to their feet, leading them back to the group.

“Deep in your heart, I see the star of every night and day,” Unique and Kitty harmonized as they grabbed Rachel and Quinn’s hands.  Rachel and Quinn pulled Finn along with them, and soon everyone was singing and jumping around, grinning at Kurt and Blaine.

Kurt could feel tears prick his eyes and he looked at Blaine, who was singing now, too.

“I’m stuck on your heart, and hang on every word you say…”

Blaine looped Kurt’s arm through his and escorted him to the group.  Kurt smiled shyly, awkwardly accepting hugs from club members he barely knew, holding on to Blaine’s hand, and then Finn folded them into a hug and he could feel his friends all around him, Rachel clinging to his back, Santana squeezing his arm, Tina’s arm around his middle, and Blaine’s hand, always sure and present, intertwined with his, as they all surrounded him with music and love.

Whatever happened on Friday, nothing could change this moment.

"Ohh, you're the best..."