When the Warblers Lose Their Voice

[stephab13]

So, over in my drabble series, I had the word prompt voice, and DogLover asked for a sniffly reunion, season 3 setting, of the Warblers. Now, I wrote this a few times, and in my final draft of it, it's come to over 7,000 words and is still in the process of being written... Basically, each of the boys there are going, Steph, love me, love me, say that you love me, and I'm like, I do love you, and they're like, well, show us, and I'm like, you're all my babies, and then they said that if I didn't give them all stacks and stacks of attention and give each of them little moments that they would let me fall pregnant with one of them and then stab my baby with rusty spoons, and I told them that would mean stabbing one of their own children with rusty spoons, and they told me to shut up and we all agreed it would be much simpler if I just gave in.

So... I thought I'd give it a go and make it an entire fic instead. So that each can have their moment. It's terrible quality of writing and more filled with my adorable sniffles and cute sick miserable adorable boys, and just random sickness!fluff, but a couple of them do sneeze. And, well, I hope you enjoy it regardless of this massive rambling preamble.

Should also point out that this is based off the boys in my drabble series over here - and that is based off my Warbler universe. Introduced in There's Something About Blaine, and continued in the rest of my Warbler stories... everything is intercalated and basically everything I write is full of fluff, but, well, I love them. Oh, and pretty much all are sick!fics too. And, the best thing about the Warblers is that I almost can claim them to be my own. The actual actors, not so much, but apart from Klaine, seeing as the most lines anyone of my boys has is... perhaps 5 (damn, I'm not nearly the Telly/Wes fan I should be) I can stick by my universe. STOP RAMBLING STEPH. Well, yes. So, lots of sick!fics, if anyone is interested. And I'm pi.on.a.skateboard over on FFnet, if you wanted to check me out. *coughSHAMELESSSELFPROMOTIONcough*

Do you also want actors' names, so you can go look them up? Because as an author I assume my audience virtually knows who I'm talking about - but I know that isn't always the case. Also, you can go look up their wonderful singing. All of them. And swoon.

So:

Wes - Telly Leung (absolute GOD. You gotta hear his version of Learn Your Lessons Well. AND I got to hug him. And hear him sing part of Defying Gravity. Life=made)

Blaine - Darren Criss (need I say more?)

Sebastian - Grant Gustin

Trent - Dominic Barnes (and please, do yourselves a favour and listen to his and Jon Hall's Little Lion Man/Just the Way You Are - he sings the latter - and, if you can find it, the one line of Moon River he does because that made me swoon and fall in love... maybe... a little...)

Jeff - Riker Lynch. Who I know isn't Australian, but Jeff is. So sue me. It lets me get away with my un-American-ness - because that's all due to his influence. Plus, you know, Aussie's are fun to write

Nick - Curt Mega

David - Titus Makin Jr

Thad - Eddy Martin

Oh, and like always, I think it's pretty obvious that I don't own Glee... because, trust me, you'd know. There'd be medically accurate stuff happening, and someone would constantly be sick or injured... yeah... And, oh yeah, I don't write for profit. Yet. Maybe some day...

When the Warblers Lose Their Voice

“Blaine! Wes!”

“Guys! They’re here!”

“Warblers, assemble!”

The scent of home pressed around him, almost as tangible as the bodies, a little sweet like menthol, a little spicy, a little musky, a little smoky and the hint of the sweat of a hard day’s practise. There were bodies everywhere – skin covering his body like some strange leather jacket, his old choir swarming to embrace him and Blaine, like they were the bearers of the latest unseen Zoo magazine.

“Hi, guys!” He let Blaine speak for the pair of them initially, too concerned with hugging his boys… Funny how he still considered them his. But, they were his family… He’d moved away, sure. He'd graduated. Gone to study at Cornell University, and left his precious choir behind in the rut of Westerville, Ohio. But, as they always said, once a Warbler, always a Warbler. Especially Papa Warbler Wes.

Then the waves crashed into the both of them, and he was pulled to the side as half the Warblers moved to claim part of his body for their own, watching the same happen to Blaine on the other side.

“How are ya?”

“G’day, Jeff!” Wes couldn’t help but adopt the Australianism. “I’m great, thanks. And you?”

“Bloody fantastic now you’re here, mate!” God, he’d forgotten how strong that accent could get… The blonde was a little... enthusiastic with it - probably terrified of losing what little culture he had - his voice really the only reminder left of home. And it was naturally a little strong. But through in excitement? Stereotype. To the point where he could possible talk about crocs (the animals, not the shoes) and uggs and has been known to chat about 'chucking shrimp on the barbie' - a phrase which usually would make him cringe and then abuse whichever ignorant American had said the catchphrase. (It's prawns, for Godsake! Crikey, get it right, will ya!)

“How’s Cornell treating you?”

Nick, this time. “It’s a lot of work.” He pulled the brunette into a hug. “And it doesn’t have you guys. But, university is amazing. And New York… New York is just a whole other world.”

Then there was a weight on his back, arms pressing tightly around his chest. “I mbissed you.”

“I missed you too, Trent.” Probably more than he’d ever care to admit, too. Trent, despite his looming height, was the baby of the group – at least, he had been as the youngest ever Warbler, joining at just 14 years of age, 5.5 years separating the two of them. But, of all the kids, Wes felt probably the most protective over Trent.

There were a few others that shook his hand or hugged him in some manner… but then there was a tap on his shoulder. “I feel like I should ignore you,” came the very hoarse, yet still unmistakable, voice of his best friend, “since it’s been so long. But, alas, someone has to set a good example.”

Wes didn’t have cheeks anymore. They’d been quartered as his smile stretched to his ears. “David!”

“God, I miss you. Are you actually real?”

“Yeah. It’s actually me. And no, before you ask, I haven’t started shrinking… yet.”

“You say that, but I see those platform boots.” He dropped down to his knees comically. “There you go. You’re taller. Better?”

God, he’d missed that banter… David knew him even better than Wes knew himself… “Much. How have you been?”

The African-American coughed, but then laughed. “Oh, you know. Another month, another bug. I’m not too bad… Wait ‘til you hear Sebastian!”

Wes frowned as someone sneezed… suddenly all he could hear was how unwell the vast majority sounded, like in a hospital – he was acutely aware of Jeff sniffling, Nick sitting looking a little listless with bloodshot eyes, Trent bright red like he had a fever…

“Oh, it’s not so bad!” David was quick to reassure him. “Trent definitely has it the worst – he’s sick as a dog. But for most of us, it’s just been like a cold. Nothing like the tonsillitis incident.”

Ah. The infamous tonsillitis incident of February 2011. The entire school had been hit – and none of the Warblers managed to escape that one. Nick had ended up getting his tonsils removed, while Blaine and Wes both landed themselves in hospital with other complications. “No dislocated shoulders this time?”

Trent grinned, plopping himself down cross-legged by Wes’ feet. “Ndo. We’ve beend quarandtinding everyone… and ndot letting andyonde sit on the piado stool.” He shivered suddenly, and Wes dropped down next to him, pulling him again into a hug and trying not to cringe as he embraced the oven.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” Blaine and his group had rejoined them, beginning to form a large circle.

“Well, we were originally thinking paintball…” Jeff trailed off as the only two healthy people, it seemed, in the room snorted. “Yeah. Exercise might be good for illness, but I’m not pushing it. Plus, I don’t think Nick and Trent are capable of standing right now, and I’m not leaving anyone out. So… soohhhh… heh-atchoo!”

“Bless you.”

“Ta.” The blonde sniffed, rubbing his cheeks briefly. “So, some sort of marathon is looking pretty likely.”

“Though, you do realise that would mbeand letting Blainde and Wes choose what we watch, right?” Nick spoke – rather breathlessly, Wes couldn’t help but notice, like back at the beginning of last year when he’d been gluten-poisoned and had no energy to spare on air… but he still found the energy somewhere to tease them.

Blaine looked comically outraged. “There’s nothing wrong with Disney!”

“True, but... we cand find sombethigg that everyode will like,” Nick responded, snuggling into Jeff’s arms. “I dond’t thing that Sebastian would be idto Aladdind, say.”

“Speaking of Sebastian, I don’t think we’ve actually officially met yet.” Wes looked over at a tall brunette leaning semi-casually, semi-collapsed on the couch, an elbow on his knee and temple resting against a closed fist. He seemed very… withdrawn. Very confident, very alluring, but Wes could see straight through his façade. He could see the wall of strength and… possible defensiveness bordering on cruelty – but he could also see the lost little child hiding within. Or maybe he was just projecting Santana onto him.

Jeff gave him a look – “Sorry, Seb. It’s strange seeing you so quiet.”

Sebastian raised a hand lazily, winking.

“He has no voice. Like, literally no voice. Makes rooming with him a lot easier.”

Sebastian punched him.

“Alright. So… Blaine, Wes, what do you want to watch?”

“Whatever. I’m happy.” Wes lent back against an armchair, Trent virtually on his lap, David to his left and Nick to his right, just letting his mind wander while they debated.

Being back was… strange. They were his family. But… now, coming back, he could almost taste the difference. Not just because they were sick. But… it was almost like a shift in power. The council – David, Thad and now Jeff as their leader – well, he knew they’d be doing amazingly. The entire choir had voted to elect Jeff as the next chairman. And him being there was cool, too – he was more like a father of children that had moved out, rather than their leader. But something was a little off... it was… uneasy. It was new air. Foreign air. Foreign air, right next to the old heater, with no way of knowing what could be tainting it – or even if it was tainted.

Uncertain. That’s what it was.

But, he wasn’t here for that. He knew things would be different. He was just here to catch up with everyone. He’d missed them.

His study was really interesting though. It was funny the effect that university had had on him… He was used to the independence – well, he’d had to be, growing up the way he did. And, really, the only difference between college and Dalton was that college had girls and alcohol. And the occasional legal drinker. But, the study was completely different. He’d never realised, even with IB, how spoon-fed he’d been at school, until he got to his first lecture with no idea who anyone was or what was expected of him or how much work he’d need to do. His first mid-semester exam was coming up in 10 days and he still had no idea what he was meant to know for it.

He’d definitely grown as a person though. He was surrounded by girls, and choirs and clubs and societies. And, as one of the youngest and now the baby – the very talented baby nonetheless – of virtually every club he’d joined, he was learning how to let others take charge and just run with things again.

Only then, Trent fell into a barking coughing fit, pulling his attention straight back to the present – his boys and the movie. He rubbed his back gently, while Jeff stretched to reach a mug of sweet smelling tea over on the desk – the citrus scent of the Earl Grey bringing back instant memories of this time last year, when bronchitis gave the then-freshman an opportunity to ask for help. Wes had been the one that had found him, that spoke to him, that took him up to his room and kept him company while he healed, both mentally and physically...

“Jesus. You okay?” Wes asked him as he lay down, nuzzling into Wes’ chest, shuddering slightly – the boy always got a little clingy when sick.

Trent nodded, sniffing. “I’mb still breathigg.”

“Well, there’s always that,” Wes said with a wry smile. “You’re burning up…”

“He had Tylendol mbaybe 20 mbinutes ago,” Nick whispered from the side. “It’s probably still takink effect… Sorry…”

“For what?”

“For every single one of us being sick and dampening the plans,” David filled in. “I mean… it happens. Though just chillaxing can be nice too.”

“You bet your ass it is,” Blaine spoke. “We didn’t really get the chance to hang out around West Side Story – and Wes hasn’t seen you since summer. I couldn’t care less what we do – just seeing you is what’s important.”

“Besides,” Wes added, looking sideways at the rather quiet Jeff – who was gazing up at the light, nostrils flaring like he was trying to prompt out another sneeze – “it’s not like we’ve never seen you guys sick before. And, considering the state of the council, you’re gonna need someone to look after you too.”

“Speaking of the council,” Blaine seemed to realise, “where’s Thad? Is he okay?”

Jeff was still looking up, gasping.

“He just got hit this morning - fever and coughing and sneezing, the whole lot - so we had to send him to the nurse… He should be back later,” David reassured them, also looking over at the Australian, who was now rubbing the side of his nose ferociously.

Nick laughed. “You right there, babe?”

Jeff shook his head. “There’s a sneeze… somewhere…”

“Wadd help?” His boyfriend offered cheekily.

“Thanks,” the blonde grinned, “but… heh… I’ll let it come… My nose is one… heh… one orifice I’d rather you didn’t penetrate…”

Sebastian suddenly grunted… or, more technically, squeaked… to get their attention, rolling his eyes before pointing at the screen insistently.

“Use your… your… your worrrrrrr… heh… your words,” Jeff tried to tease him.

Sebastian just gave him a glare worthy of Kurt, before instantly transforming his face to form that proud mask, staring lasers from his piercing green eyes. What’s wrong?, he mouthed. Cat got your nose?

“What, cat got your tongue?” Jeff instantly replied, sneeze suddenly forgotten. “Just play the movie.”

Wes’ attention was drawn away from their argument, however, as Trent sneezed and promptly began coughing again, so dry he was honestly a little surprised his leg and Trent’s hand wasn’t full of sand from the desert that his throat was sure to have turned into. This one was harsher than earlier though – maybe because he was lying down – and he began gasping for breath.

“Hey, easy now…” Wes slowly helped him sit up against his chest, wrapping his arms around the sophomore’s trunk to keep him stabilised. “Trent…”

The sassy Warbler groaned as the fit began to subside. “I’mb okay,” he choked out. “But, cad I please have sobe water?”

Jeff passed over an unopened bottle from a box on the floor – at another time Wes might have laughed at how his preparatory skills had been passed down. For now though, he was too worried. “Still breathing there?”

Trent nodded, wiping his streaming eyes.

“You really don’t feel well, huh, little blackcap?”

“I feel like crap,” he admitted. “But, so does everyode else. I really wad-ted to see you guys…”

“You want to go to bed? Blaine and I both understand…”

But this time Trent – cautiously, like he was a little dizzy – shook his head. “I wadd to watch the mbovie. Add thend we’ll see.”

“Heatchoo! ZzzzzzzzISHoo! Eh… atchoo!”

“About time!” David clapped Jeff, who’d finally managed to sneeze, on the back. “Bless you!”

“Okay.” Wes brought his attention back to the young boy. “Keep leaning on me… are you warm or cold enough?”

He shivered in response, despite the layers of clothing and 70˚ day. Concerned over the obvious fever, Wes slowly started pulling off Trent’s hoodie and Dalton rugby jumper (damn, the Australian really had rubbed off on him), pulling him closer. Meanwhile, Blaine had grabbed a blanket from the corner, throwing it over the pair.

“Anyone else need anything?”

Sebastian raised a hand, a funny expression on his face – apparently Jeff wasn’t the only one with the sneezles – miming blowing his nose. Blaine chucked him a tissue box – which he somehow actually managed to catch, and just in the nick of time, too. “Hep-choo! … Hep-choo! … Hep-choo!”

“Bless you.” Wes patted the ground to his right, where Nick had once been before cuddling up with his boyfriend. Sebastian had almost isolated himself in the furthest corner of the room - whether to protect them from the illness they all seemed to have, or he was just awkward about being sick near people... or even being near people in general... Wes didn't know.

But he shook his head, breath still audibly hitching. “Hep-choo! Hep-choo! Hep-CHHHH!”

"You done?"

Sebastian nodded, the ghost of a smile written somewhere on his face. Though he still remained with that cool mask.

"Bless you again, then." Wes threw his hand down next to him again. "Come. Sit. I don't bite... unless you ask me to. But even then, I just met you, and this is crazy, and I'm not giving you my number, and that would be a little awkward anyway... My girlfriend would probably enjoy it though..."

Sebastian held up his hands in surrender.

"Wes?"

"Yeah, David?"

"Shut up. Your rambling's probably scaring him."

"Don't pretend you don't love it."

"Oh, I do, and you know it, darling. But Sebastian only met you ten minutes ago. Most people need a little time before you go full-on crazy with them"

But apparently the rambling made him feel a little better, as the boy lowered himself - and really, that was the only way to describe it, it was so graceful - between Wes and Jeff - and Wes wrinkled his nose in triumph, smirking.

“Anyone else?” Blaine asked again, looking around the room.

But this time everyone was silent. So, with the press of a button, before Wes could become engrossed in his own thoughts and worries, they all settled in to watch Inception.

Edited August 16, 2012 by stephab13

[stephab13]

148 minutes, 3 coughing fits and a whole lot of sneezes and sniffles later, found the Warblers – now including Thad – sprawled over the choir room, staring at the image of a spinning top. Or, well, most of the Warblers…

“Trent? What do you think?” David turned to him. “Was he really dreaming?”

There was no response… The freshman now was warm – not burning like earlier – but he was also breathing deeply and easily, coughing from time to time but not in the fits like earlier.

“Speaking of dreams…” Wes rubbed a hand against the freshman’s arms. “I think he’s asleep.”

David smiled. “So he is. Poor thing.”

“As much as he wants to stay with us, he really isn’t well enough, is he?”

Jeff shifted a little – Nick was awake… just… in his own arms. But, his struggling to push the brunette off his lap and against the couch proved futile as Nick wrapped his arms tighter around the blonde. Finally, giving in, Jeff gave Wes a look. “He’s in room 308.”

Wes nodded. “Ta.” He bent lower to the sophomore’s ear. “Trent… We gotta go to bed now…”

Sebastian, who was also somewhat dazed, snorted. “Waking him up for bed?” he whispered. “Tell him the latest Vogue is out.”

“Trent… We gotta move…”

The sophomore began to stir, and Wes couldn’t help the smug look he sent to the arrogant boy next to him – not that Sebastian was paying attention, having turned to the side to blow his rather red nose.

“Hey, little blackcap.”

“Wes?” Trent groaned. “I don’ feel good.”

The entire choir – at least, those that were still awake – were all staring at them now.

“I know, Trent. I know. We’re gonna get you to bed.”

“Chest hur’s…” He started coughing again, much wetter than earlier – Wes could almost hear the fluid in there rattling around.

“Okay. I know. We’ll go upstairs, and I’ll make you some tea and we’ll get some expectorants into you. And then you can go back to sleep.”

Sebastian stood up in front of them, rubbing his hands with what smelt like hand sanitiser. “Come on, Trent,” he squeaked. “Grab my hands when you’re ready and we’ll go.”

It was a credit to his boys – or how sick they all were – that nobody laughed.

They waited a little, letting Trent catch his breath – but then slowly he rose to his feet, leaning over to let Wes take some of his weight. Sebastian hurried to get the door for them while the boys in their path scattered…

It was funny how yet again Wes found himself leading someone out of a gathering – and he wasn’t even at Dalton any more. It kinda made him wonder if maybe he was just bad luck… but he knew that was silly. And at least he was used to looking after everyone. And Sebastian was with him.

“Thank you,” he whispered as they entered the corridor. “You know, from what everyone’s been telling me, I wouldn’t have expected you to be so… protective.”

“What have they been saying?” Sebastian whispered with a shrug, sniffing. “Trent’s been the warmest person… and after I caught a monster of a cold just 2 weeks into the year, he was always there for me. Makes sense I should for him.” Wes was surprised at the lack of attitude… From what he’d been told, and the tiny amounts that he’d observed, Sebastian didn’t seem the warm, fuzzy, open type. Yet here he was, completely honest, letting himself be read like a new Harry Potter book.

“You’re mbyfried,” Trent slurred.

“Yeah, you’re my friend too, McQueen,” Sebastian responded. “But that’s our secret, hey?”

“Secret…” Trent stumbled suddenly, his knees giving out – but Wes and Sebastian both caught him.

“Easy there, tiger.”

“We’re nearly there, Trent.”

“Sorry…”

The two older boys shared a look.

“No apologising,” Wes told him forcefully. “You looked after me so much last year. You need to let me do the same.”

“Do you want to sit?” Sebastian asked him, frowning at the shaking legs.

Trent bit his lip, then slowly nodded. “Yeah…”

They made their way over to the edge of the hallway, Sebastian remaining behind the sicker boy to keep rubbing his back. By this stage, any colour Trent’s face had once had had completely drained away, leaving a horrible bone white – even the fever tainting his cheeks earlier had disappeared.

"I really amb sorry," Trent whispered, head planted between his knees to help stop the vertigo. "I feel like shit add I always edd up ruidigg everything. And you always edd up carigg for mbe."

"Here, drink." Sebastian shook a water bottle under his nose, now sitting by Trent's right side. "And, it's not your fault - you weren't even the first to get sick. Plus, whenever any of us get sick, you look after us - and you're younger than most of us."

"He's right, you know," Wes said from Trent's left. "Do you remember what you taught me last year?"

"Ndo." Trent coughed again, spitting into a mass of tissues, then groaned.

"You taught me that I had to look after myself, so that I could look after others. And, that ignoring how I feel is just plain downright stupid. You have to stop being a robot. Being sick absolutely sucks balls, but it's a part of life. You have to take care of yourself and not let it get worse."

"I dond't think it cand get any worse," Trent almost managed a chuckle, but then fell into silence once more.

After 10 minutes had passed with very little improvement, the two older boys decided bed would be the best thing for him – and quickly – so they bent down, locking arms to form a two person seat and carried him to his room.

"Do you know why I nicknamed you Blackcap?" Wes asked as he helped Trent strip down to the most comfortable pair of trackies he could find in the fashionista's cupboard.

"It's a warbler with dark hair?" Trent asked woozily, crawling into bed.

"It has one of the most unique sounds of any Warbler," Wes told him. He knelt down beside the bed, watching Sebastian run between various rooms and return to the bedside table with necessities – tissues, tea, extra blankets, water, trash can, even the Senega mixture Trent always had lying around since the 2 months of chest infections last year. "It has a long rambling sort of song, and ends with a fluting between two notes... Now, you have quite possibly the best jazz voice I've ever heard. But, you're definitely one of the most individualistic people I've ever met."

"Odly because I have you... you.. HEH'YITCH'uh!... you as by bendtor."

"Bless you." He brushed some of the hair back from Trent's forehead. "But, no. You are one of the strongest people I know. But, you never seem to get angry at anyone - just a little sassy - yet you still know how to stand up for yourself. And, you're probably the most compassionate person I've met. You've been such an amazing friend... brother... and I've never really thanked you for it."

"I... I..." Trent yawned. "I love you, Wes. I bissed you so buch."

"Love you too, Trent." He hugged him, moving to let Sebastian sit down.

But Trent held fast to his hand. "Dod't leave be. Please."

How could he argue with that?

Sebastian moved to the other side, perching lithely on the edge of the bed. "You feeling any better now?"

A little cough - not a fit. "Yeah. Bed's good."

Sebastian smiled. "You gotta go to sleep, 'kay? You'll feel better when you wake up." He looked up, green eyes meeting Wes' black ones. "I would, but I have no voice... Can you sing All the Pretty Little Horses? Trent kinda started it - he sang it to me, and I think it'll help him... He's practically asleep already as it is," he whispered, as the young boy yawned.

With a nod, he began to sing the lullaby... Again, Sebastian's actions were so caring and kind and unexpected... Then again, whenever Santana's softer side came out when not in private, Wes was still surprised - perhaps he should learn to place more trust in humanity again?

But he waited until they’d closed the door on an already-snoring Trent before voicing his thoughts. “You know, I never would have imagined you to be like this. Not Sebastian Smythe, son of state’s attorney Robert Smythe, kicked out of Roosevelt Preparatory School…”

“And what did you imagine of me?” Sebastian asked, somewhat coolly.

“Well…” Wes bit his lip. “To be honest, I was expecting you to be a bit of a bully. Very dominating and hard and… closed. Manipulative, and very sure-footed.”

“Says the boyfriend of Santana Lopez.”

“You do remind me of her. Underneath she’s just a big softie though. She can be cruel, but it’s strictly a defence mechanism… not that I’m making excuses for her…”

Sebastian sighed. “I am… Cruel, that is… I… try to be more aware of it. I incited fear in people back at my old school, and I had no friends… It’s too easy for me to slip back into that. And God knows I’m not perfect. But I’m trying.”

“Well, as long as you know there is a problem, fixing it shouldn’t be too bad. And, nobody’s perfect.”

They rounded the corner, Sebastian now sniffling miserably and weaving a little. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually tell people that… Let them believe what they want.”

Wes patted his shoulder. “It’s all good. People tend to open up around me anyway.”

“Don’t tell anyone, alright? I have to keep up my reputation.”

“Knowing your faults isn’t a weakness, Sebastian,” Wes told him. “But, nothing leaves this corridor – that’s a promise.”

“Thanks.” He stopped, bending over and bracing on his knees as he gave a hacking cough.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” he rasped, straightening back up. “But, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll head to bed as well… I’ve got a ToK essay to finish writing, and I still feel a bit… off… Can you…?”

“I’ll let Blaine and Jeff know.”

“Thanks.”

Wes sighed, watching the other boy blow his nose and then stumble back down the corridor. He was… interesting, that one. Very similar to Santana. Probably just as trusting too… but he smelt trouble brewing, and hoped for everyone’s sakes that Sebastian could learn to let that softer side loose.

So, okay, perhaps out of character for canon!Sebastian... but, then again, he did manage to teach all the Warblers I Want You Back, with that horrible choreography that I'm not going to get into because I KNOW I'm in the minority for that but yeah. He convinces the Warblers to side by him, so he obviously can't be as harsh as he comes across to the New Directions. Plus, there's the 'fun and games until it's not' - so he can think and empathise much better than you'd expect - and the whole donating money to cause thing, which my innocent heart wants to believe actually does hold some meaning. So, you get soft Sebastian.

And, yes. The Warblers are totally doing IB. Mainly because the American system confuses the crap out of me, and I have friends that did IB.

Part 3 should come up *RELATIVELY* soon - but, again, no promises... and this is, of course, assuming that people want this to continue - which I shouldn't really assume.

Do you want me to continue? Also, any particular requests? I have a few things written, but again, it's pretty easy to add stuff in randomly :-)

Keep smiling!

[ID2006]

Warbler yumness. I wish I knew the characters better.

[snifflechick]

CONTINUE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Please. ^-^ I'm glad to see study hasn't swallowed you up entirely (speaking from experience, it happens!)

I love your Warbler stories so much.

As for requests, my adoration for Nick is far from secret.... pretty please?

[obsessed]

Cute! Would love to see more.

[DogLover]

This is super, epic awesome. So much love for this fic... I mean, they're all sick! Yay! Well, not all of them...so can I request that Blaine and/or Wes catch it? Oh, and also I'd love to see a bit more of Thad, he was kid of elusive. Sorry, sorry, I'm being kinda demanding, I just love all the boys in your Warblerverse so much!

I actually, surprisingly, liked softy-Sebastian. Huh.

Also, I just gonna say that you keep taking my random litte prompts and writing them so much better than anything I ever coud have imagined, and it's awesome!

[stephab13]

ickydog2006: Even if you don't know them, glad it's okay :-) Does that mean you want more character depth in here though? Otherwise, my ffnet is dedicated to the Warblerverse - so you can see what they're like there. Each has or is going to have their own little story :-)

snifflechick: Oh, Nick. Don't worry - the core are most definitely getting a lot of attention!

obsessed: Well, then, I'll have to keep writing them!

DogLover: Oh, your prompts are wonderful. And not demanding at all. They're actually pretty helpful. Now... I can't say too much because I do have a kind-of plan, BUT a lot of what you've said either has or will be taken into consideration. And, as for Thad? He's coming. I promise. Now that I actually have a good idea as for who he is... But thank you! I'm glad I can kind of pretend to do your prompts justice :-)

Okay, just a little update for the time being. Because this will force me to keep writing and improve what I do have for the rest. But later bits might be a bit longer in coming.

And, I'm at work and tired so it's quite possibly terrible spelling/grammar But, hope it's okay :-)

When Wes made it back to the choir room, he was met with 10 boys – 10 had already left to their own rooms – and the faint coppery scent of blood.

“What happened?” He asked the circle warily.

They parted, revealing Jeff and Nick sitting in the centre, the brunette holding a mass of tissues to his nose and Jeff pressing a cold compress to the back of his neck.

“Remember how we always warned him about stifling his sneezes?” Blaine spoke, rubbing Nick’s arm. “Someone had a… particularly violent sneezing fit and apparently burst a few blood vessels.”

“I have a sidus idfectiod,” Nick said, though still with a smile. “Id’s happedd before. I still deed to sdeeze though…”

“How long has it been bleeding?” Wes cast his eyes around the pair, noting the red tissues circling them, like a bullseye.

“Few bidutes.”

“You dizzy, lightheaded, tired, sick – “

“Wes, stob beigg a doctor add sit. We’re haddligg it.” Nick sighed. “I’b godda deed bore Kleedex sood though.”

Thad passed them a new box, along with a black towel – “For whend you do end up sndeezing,” he told them.

“Cad we jus’ pud the dex’ bovie od?” Nick asked. … That’s right. He’d come so far, but Nick was still hideously shy. He’d always been a brilliant performer – and Wes had seen him grow from a timid sophomore afraid to open his mouth, to a confident senior soloist. Though, unwanted attention was still that – unwanted – and Wes didn’t blame anyone, especially Nick, for wanting to direct everyone’s elsewhere.

Actually, Wes understood that completely. Not that you could call him any sort of synonym of shy – Wes was about as extroverted and outgoing (and yes, those are different ideas) as one could be. But, some sort of illness or weakness, more so than your usual permissible vulnerability, was almost… not quite a flaw, but perhaps a chink in the armour of their persona. Nick didn’t like attention – Wes didn’t like drawing attention to his own imperfections – especially the more serious, life-threatening ones. And they’d bonded over that.

It had started fairly early on during the day. The school had been renovating and painting some of the halls… and the smell must have been getting to him. He’d woken up coughing, hand fumbling through the drawer in his bedside table for that familiar, yet hated, cool plastic – his inhaler.

That attack had been fairly mild. He’d been able to get dressed, eat breakfast, go to class. There was that weight burning a hole in his pocket, sure. The secret trips to the bathroom between classes so he could sneak in the medication. But he could breathe, and he could hide.

He hated the thing. Always had. It was a weakness. It was some… external, alien necessity. He hated having to rely on it. He hated the fact that some days his lungs just did not want to open themselves enough. And he especially hated that whenever he got sick or stressed everything would shut down and he would be that less-than-perfect thing with some strange third arm, just so that he could keep breathing.

In all honesty, he thought he’d be able to get through it. He always thought that… and typically he was able to fight it. He knew how to sing, talk, breathe through an attack. He knew how to stand to hide his heaving shoulders, how to breathe to hide a wheeze, how to ignore the tightening and the feeling like he was breathing through a straw under water. But sometime during sixth period, his lungs started to clamp down. Hard.

The wheeze had been there all day. But as his final class drew on, he could feel himself expending more energy just trying to suck enough air in, let alone to get it back out again. His heart raced, his head pounded, and his vision started creeping in at the edges. He was no longer counting seconds until the bell rang and he could get his next hit of albutarol like the junkie he labelled himself – he was simply counting the breaths he could still take and praying they wouldn’t run out before he could escape.

He couldn’t remember the bell ringing. He couldn’t remember virtually crawling up to his room. He could barely remember locking the door, scrabbling to tear the head off the nebule and squeeze the meds into the reservoir. He couldn’t remember collapsing into bed, the mask strapped to his head because his hands were too clawed in their oxygen-deprived spasms to hold it.

He couldn’t remember Nick bursting through the door unannounced. He couldn’t remember the weight on the edge of his bed, the brunette leaning over him.

He couldn’t remember any longer how to breathe.

At some stage he not so much woke up as came back around again… He could see colour first, see some brown and navy and white object in front of him – a person. They were sitting quietly, watching him, frowning. Taking his pulse. Holding his hand. Biting their lip. Staring with their chocolate brown eyes… Nick.

He didn’t know the sophomore very well at that stage. He had a beautiful voice – one of the strongest, purest falsettos he’d heard since Chris – and he was in Wes’ house. And he was very shy. Why was he here? Did he need help? But… why him? What did he want? What had prompted him to come looking?

He needed to talk. He could see that in his eyes. It wasn’t just the being-with-a-new-person-who-he-found-close-to-death nervousness. But… he wouldn’t. Would he?

“So… you’re not going to ask me anything?” Wes finally broke the silence.

Nick smiled. “It’s up to you if you want to tell me anything.” He picked up one of Wes’ hands again, watching it twitch and jitter. “… One of my older sisters has cystic fibrosis. I’ve seen her with nebulisers thousands of times. I’ve seen the tremors it causes, the fear from the sheer inability to breathe… and I’ve held plenty of kidney dishes after she’s finally been able to cough up some of the mucous.” He shrugged. “And my whole family has asthma. If you want to tell me why you decided to be a cat and slink away to die quietly, that’s fine. But if you don’t want to, I won’t force you to. I know how tiring attacks can be…”

Wes smiled. “Thank you.” He just felt so worn out, each cough worsening the trembling of his whole body… He felt old. Not old like he usually did – with his assumed responsibilities. Old like his body was falling apart…

“I can hear that you’re a lot better, but I have to ask. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Wes coughed again, the now-loose mucous rattling around deep in his chest. It hurt, but he was somewhat reassured by it, as horrible as that was. It meant that there was enough air supply whistling through his lungs to produce that sound. Then he straightened himself up, wiping his mouth and streaming eyes. “Rehearsal?”

“You want me to cancel it?”

“No…” Wes managed a half-sigh. “Can you tell them I’m sick and won’t make it? They don’t need to see or hear this. They don’t need to be worried.”

Now it was Nick’s turn to sigh. “Of course…” he trailed off. “But, what do you need? I’ve got some peppermint tea hidden away somewhere. Or, I’ve got a massive tub of Vicks VapoRub – because, as better as you may be, I can tell the attack is still lingering a little.”

“No.” Wes slumped a little lower. “Go rehearse. Tell them. I’m just going to sleep this off. I’m tired…”

“Fine,” Nick said, though in hindsight the lie wasn’t overly convincing – he’d come back a few minutes later to keep looking after him. “I’ll let them know. You take care.” He pushed a pillow behind Wes’ back, allowing him to half-sit-half-lie, tucking the doona around him.

“Thanks, Nick.”

“No worries,” he reassured him as he stepped out the door. “You’d do the same for us.”

[ID2006]

Awe. I love it. And your background info is plenty. You bring so much life to these guys.

[DogLover]

Um, asthmatic!Wes... :drool:

Yeah, that's pretty much it.

(Wait, no it's not. Yay, you like my prompts! You LIKE my PROMPTS!!! *happy dance* Wow, I can't believe anyone actually likes my random fetishy mind-barf.)

[snifflechick]

I am loving this so so much! Can't wait to see more

[Zebra]

I've missed the Warblers so much!!!! I had to keep flicking to a picture with their names underneath because I haven't learned them all yet (woops) but it was totally worth it. I love it!!!!!!!!!

Sebastian raised a hand, a funny expression on his face – apparently Jeff wasn’t the only one with the sneezles – miming blowing his nose. Blaine chucked him a tissue box – which he somehow actually managed to catch, and just in the nick of time, too. “Hep-choo! … Hep-choo! … Hep-choo!”

HHhhhnnngggggg! Sebastian! I know actors and characters are two different things, especially when it comes to Grant Gustin and Sebastian but this is getting me even more obsessed with him Plus nice Sebastian is actually really interesting. CONTINUE!

[Prongs]

I've missed the Warblers so much!!!! I had to keep flicking to a picture with their names underneath because I haven't learned them all yet (woops) but it was totally worth it. I love it!!!!!!!!!

Sebastian raised a hand, a funny expression on his face – apparently Jeff wasn’t the only one with the sneezles – miming blowing his nose. Blaine chucked him a tissue box – which he somehow actually managed to catch, and just in the nick of time, too. “Hep-choo! … Hep-choo! … Hep-choo!”

HHhhhnnngggggg! Sebastian! I know actors and characters are two different things, especially when it comes to Grant Gustin and Sebastian but this is getting me even more obsessed with him Plus nice Sebastian is actually really interesting. CONTINUE!

THIS^^^^^^!!!!!

SEBASTIAN HDAKXKXBEBQ

[stephab13]

ickydog2006: Ta. I... have fun invented backstories, I guess :-)

DogLover: Hahaha your prompts are amazing. I actually really enjoy getting prompts, so I only hope I can do them some sort of justice... And, OMG, asthmatic!Wes. I mean... he's a lot of fun to torture in general, but... yeah...

snifflechick:Thank you!

g123: Hahaha I started out doing that as well. Welcome to the club! Have we converted you yet?

And, for Prongs and anyone who wants Sebastian... he's coming back. In the next part. I promise. Do you have any specific requests?

Okay, again, a little update. And, it's the Warblers. THere's gotta be a little craziness in there at some point in time...

“Do…. Dod’t sdeeze…” Nick’s whining, this time, was what brought him back to reality. The poor thing looked to be in such a state of discomfort… and no wonder. He tended to sneeze in threes or more, and by the looks of things his nose had only just stopped bleeding. And, Nick was a compulsive stifler – which he couldn’t really do if it hadn’t properly clotted yet.

“Baby…” Jeff placed a kiss to his temple, grabbing both his boyfriend’s hands to stop him grabbing at his nose and further irritating it. “It’s okay. Better to just let it out.”

He whimpered. “But there are still people here.”

Wes could almost feel his pain… To be that shy, that you always stifled your sneezes – something that by its very nature was meant to be uncontrollable… and to then have that tiny amount of control taken away from you… They needed a distraction…

“Everyone sneezes. They won’t care. It’s not weird or anything.” Jeff squeezed him tighter, trying to transfer his own strength and reassurance over. “Plus, everyone is sick. It’s not like I haven’t heard every single person in this room sneeze at least once this past week.”

“So… Do we want to continue with Nolan?” Wes decided to speak over them, trying to direct the attention from the group elsewhere, away from Niff. “Or, we can stick with the weird… Fight Club or The Matrix?”

Jeff and Nick sent him a grateful look as Andrew and Joel began a heated debate over movies, with the majority of the Warblers making random interjections, leaving the three of them a small iota of privacy.

“Just let it go, hon,” Jeff was whispering. “Get it over and done with.”

Nick gave him a terrified a look. “I do-’t kdow how.”

Wes grabbed one of his hands, the other tightly pressed underneath his nose, and gave it a squeeze. “No stifling.”

“Bud I dod’t kdow how dot to…”

“You have to lock it off before it gets up there…” Jeff gave him another kiss. “Like, you know when you stretch your upper register – but not your falsetto? And the air gets kinda trapped near your palate but it doesn’t go through your nose? Like that.”

A tear rolled down Nick’s cheek, tainting pink as it rolled further down. “I cad’t.”

“Yeah, you can. I know you can.”

“I deed to sdeeze…”

“So just sneeze.” Jeff sighed, wrapping his arms a little tighter around the boy. “And, how’s this? For every sneeze, we’ll eat a tablespoon of Vegemite.”

Nick managed a shaky smile. “Bud you like Vegebite.”

“Not 3 whole tablespoons of it!” Jeff cried. “Sure, it’s great on toast with a bit of cheese. But I’m not that insane! I do have tastebuds!”

“That’s debadable,” Nick muttered, but nodded.

“So, we have an accord?”

“Yeah.” But he still looked uncertain, finger still pressed tight above his lip. “Cad you…?”

“Count of three,” Jeff smiled knowingly.

Well. Now that was settled, Wes probably wasn’t needed. Or wanted. So he stood up to move between Thad and David – almost unconsciously in council formation – leaving the pair their privacy. Or, as much as could be had in a small room full of 8 boys.

He was just about to greet them when, apparently, Nick’s nose finally gave in.

“Heh’k’USH’oo!”

“One…”

“K’USH!”

“Two…”

Silence.

“One more, Nick.”

Wes turned to the junior at last, grinning, though still listening out for his friends in the corner. “So, how are you, Thad?”

“Heh…”

“I’mb good. Add yourself?” Thad matched his grin. “I’d hug you, but I don’t wandt to indfect you.”

“Apparently I’m a lot better than you guys,” Wes responded. “School’s keeping me pretty busy though… What have you been up to?”

“Or, are you only making me do two spoons?” He heard Jeff tease.

“Heh… Heh’k’USH!”

“Three. Thank you.”

“Oh, you kndow,” Thad waved a hand, pulling back Wes’ focus. “Bit of this, bit of that. Daltond’s beend trying to formb a undited faith type thigg, so David, Trent and mbyself have all beend pretty busy getting that off the ground.”

“Heh’ush’uh!”

“Four… Sadistic bastard…”

“That sounds interesting,” Wes replied. “Are you… educating people? Or organising masses, or what’s going on with that?” Thad, Wes had learnt on his first day when offering the fasting boy a sandwich, was Muslim. He’d been virtually chased out of his old school – his whole life really – with the label terrorist, and anything else the ignorance of school children could come up with. So, in a comfortable environment such as Dalton, he’d put it to himself to try and abolish any sort of… not quite ignorance, because it wasn’t like the boys didn’t go out their way to learn, but more just a naivety and lack of exposure.

Thad sniffed. “Bit of both. I’ve beend talking about Islamb in the World Religionds classes. Add ind a couple of weeks, I’mb leading andyonde interested in the Asr prayer.”

“HEH’KUSH!”

“Five…”

“Wow! Wish I’d thought of that!” Wes mentally slapped himself. He was always up for experiencing everything he possibly could of other cultures – but the afternoon prayer had never entered his mind.

Thad blew his nose, then grinned. “Hey, you thought of the Warblers doing Ramadan for a day. This is just building on that.”

“Heh… K’USH’OO!”

“Now you’re just trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

Wes and Thad both now looked back around at the pair. Nick still had his hands over his face, though with the lack of a raised finger, it would seem the sneezing fit was over. Jeff, on the other hand, was looking like he’d just swallowed radiator fluid.

“Six spoons. Six tablespoons of Vegemite.” He groaned. “You better be filming this. Maybe if I chuck hard enough, we’ll get the YouTube viral.”

“You dod’t have to…”

“Yeah, I do. I promised you.” Jeff sighed again, pulling out the towel Thad had handed them earlier to gently wipe at Nick’s blood-stained face. “Bless you, by the way.”

“Whad does Jeff have to do?” Thad asked, following Wes’ line of sight.

Nick grinned. “Ode spood of Vegebite per sdeeze. He has to take 6 spoods.” But his grin faltered at the expression of Jeff’s face.

“Better get the bucket ready…”

Thad was chewing his lip, looking thoughtful. “Well… he said, we’ll eat… Whad if I take onde of his spoonds?”

Jeff turned to face him. “You sure?” It was no secret that none of the Americans could stand the tiniest spreading of it on bread… let along a whole tablespoon straight. Especially the Muslim, whose palate seemed to match his heart – saturated with sugar.

“Yeah. I cand’t really taste andythigg at the bombent, so it should’t be too bad.”

God, Wes had forgotten that… Thad was just one of those kids that flew under the radar a little. Absolutely brilliant, but he never cared to make a deal of it. He held a 4.0 GPA, debated, sang and played sport on top of all his religious expression. Yet he never got any recognition.

He was smart, he was funny, he was considerate. He was definitely a character, very headstrong, and possibly one of the most confused individuals Wes had ever come across – and no wonder, when you consider the clashes of his European and middle-Eastern heritage …

And he was still one of the sweetest people you could ever meet. He would pull an ass out of a pit on the Sabbath and then give him the shirt off his back. He would put aside his English essay, Chemistry readings and Latin translation to marathon the Saw movies if you said you were missing home. And, it would seem, so he would also take a spoon full of Vegemite for a friend – as long as he offered, and you didn’t ask him too!

“Yeah, I’ll take one too. We can invent the Vegemite challenge!” David, this time – the crazy support proving more than the pitch of his voice how sick he really was.

“Mbe too!” Joel raised a hand, and Blaine nodded too.

“Well, that’s 4 spoons done.” The blonde turned to the two boys remaining unaccounted for. “Either of you two in?”

“I think that’s my note to leave,” Andrew said, standing up. “No pun intended. Catch you later!”

They watched the boy saunter out the door… at which point Wes promptly groaned. Vegemite, from memory, was not gluten-free – meaning that Nick wouldn’t be able to eat it… and therefore, by extension, that Wes would have to take the final one. He held out a hand, eyes closed. “Spoon me.”

“We need rules for this challenge!” Apparently McKinley hadn’t drowned out the puppy in Blaine. He was bouncing up and down, drumming the spoon on his knees, elbow, cheeks. “Is it like the cinnamon challenge – one spoon, no water, 60 seconds? Or, what are we doing with it?”

“I don’t think I can deprive you of water,” Jeff cracked with a grin, “seeing how this has more salt in it than the Red Sea… But, how about one tablespoon, whoever can go the longest without water or swallowing wins? Spitting or vomiting is an instant disqualification.”

Well, that seemed pretty fair… only…

“Jeff, you’re used to this stuff. You have a definite advantage here!”

But Nick grinned. “Do, he really does’t. Jeff’s a spitter.”

The boys groaned… and Thad looked confused. “Do I want to kndow?”

Such an innocent child. “No, Thad. You don’t.”

“But… what? Is it to do with length againd?”

“Nope. But you’re on the right track.”

Blaine leant over, whispering in Thad’s ear…

“Ewwwwwwwwwww! I’ll take Vegembite over that andy day!”

“It’s probably got about the same salt content…” Jeff mused.

“So, you’re screwed thed!” Nick grinned.

“Only by you, babe.”

Wes shook his head. Those two were adorable… and over the top. “So, can we do this? The sooner it’s in my mouth, the sooner by extension it’s out.”

Jeff handed them each a tablespoon (and let’s not question why there was an entire dinner set in the Warbler desk), and each accepted – apart from Thad, who, for some reason no one was ever able to fathom, always had his own set on him.

Then came the Vegemite. Thick, salty, brown spoons of pit bog. At least, that’s what it tasted like. Full of yeast – only, not yeast like the amazing goodness you get in bread. Yeast like fermenter’s yeast. It was such an Australian thing. Seriously. Who else would possibly look at the remnants of a fermenting barrel of beer and think, hmm, I wonder what that would taste like on a piece of bread?

And, a whole spoonful of the stuff. Wes felt sick just considering it. “… I don’t think I can do this…”

“Course you cad!” Nick grinned. “Techdically, I’b the oddly ode that cad’t, add that’s because it would kide of rip by idtestides to shreds. You dod’t have that issue. You’ll be fide!”

Blaine seemed to be having second thoughts, too. “Uh… should we like… get a bucket or something?”

Jeff laughed. “Bathroom’s that way – not that you’ll need it… Towel might be a good idea though.”

Nick nodded, unfolding the black towel from earlier in a line. “Add I’ll video you.”

Finally they were all arranged the towel, 2 boys per side with two on the ends. Wes looked deep into the eyes of Jeff, already nauseated and slightly hysterical… and then realised what a tablespoon of Vegemite smelt like.

It smelt like fear.

“Are you ready?”

“Yep!” The boys nodded, and Jeff poked his tongue out, eyes crossed.

“Alright. Ode… two… three.”

Showtime. On the count, they all put the spoons in their mouth.

The reaction was instantaneous. David and Blaine both gagged, the latter running out of the room, while Jeff, true to Nick’s prediction, pulled the spoon out of his mouth and almost instantly spat the thick radiator fluid-spread onto the towel… then licked his lips.

Which left Wes, Joel and Thad. Thad and Joel were both breathing pretty heavily – though Wes couldn’t tell if that was just due to them being sick or not… So, three of them were already disqualified. If they couldn’t taste it… maybe they’d be able to swallow it. But, then again, it was so salty, it’d probably dry up their saliva fairly quickly… so they may not physically be able to swallow it… So, Wes could try and outlast them… or he could swallow himself, and hope that both the two of them were forced to spit it out, or drink water.

Then again, swallowing it would mean actually ingesting the crap.

Although, on the third hand (the emergency one he kept just for Warbler business), he had the stuff in his mouth – that was going to leave a pretty nasty aftertaste no matter how it left.

Alright. Wes swallowed it with a small bow.

“Congratulations, sir!” David smiled. “You lasted a grand total of… 5 seconds!”

“Why, thank you, kind gentleman,” Wes matched his flourish, handing Blaine a bottle of water as he walked back in the room. “But, alas, I was no match for the courage and fortitude of the pair in front of us.”

Joel and Thad were left standing.

“Add dow we settle id to watch these two bagdificedt creatures,” Nick stage-whispered in a marvellous impersonation of David Atenborough. “You cad albost taste the deterbidatiod id their stadce, but diether of theb shows ady side of fear, each tryigg to assert their dobidadce add so wid the favour of this studdigg you-g febale.”

Joel burst into laughter as Nick pointed at Blaine… and flying out his mouth came the spoon. “Holy crap, that stuff is foul!” He scratched at his tongue. “Cand I, like, sue you both for mbental scarring or sombething of the sort?”

Thad shook his head, grimacing as he swallowed. “Pretty sure you edtered that as a verbal condtract. Jeff and the coundry Australia candot be held liable for idiotic thi-gs you do with their ndationdal delicacies. But, well donde.”

“And to you,” Joel offered a hand. “But, uh… I thi-k I mbight leave you guys. Mby head is killing mbe and, hondestly, I’mb really tired… but it was great seeing you againd, Wes, Blainde,” he turned to the visitors in turn. “Sorry to leave you ond such a ndote.”

“Not at all!” Wes pulled the sophomore into a hug anyway. “Go get some rest, and feel better soon, okay?”

“Yeah, will do,” he sniffed. “And, do’t be a strandger. Combe back soond.”

“I’ll do my best,” Wes promised, and they all watched the blonde disappear out the door.

And then there were 6.

“So,” Thad collapsed down onto a couch, hand pressing on his forehead. “What’s ndext?”

Wes grabbed one of Trent’s blankets from earlier, throwing it over the council member. “Stay warm, I’ll make some tea, and Blaine will put on another movie. Sound good?”

“Heh’USH’uh!”

“And no more Vegemite,” Blaine cracked with a grin.

[DogLover]

You continued! *happy dance*

ahaha the Vegemite challenge was genius

[snifflechick]

Nicknicknicknicknicknick!!!!!!!!! *wants to cuddle him*

I'm happy.

And vegemite is intense in high concentrations. When I was a kid, a classic truth or dare challenge was to drink "Vegemite soup" : A sadistic amount of Vegemite dissolved in hot water.

Loving this story. Cannot

[Zebra]

Yup I'm converted! Aaww Thad sounds sweet too! Ok I won't completely freak out but SEBASTIAN WILL BE BACK???!!! YYYYYAAAYYY!!!!!! Umm could you make him sniffier and sneezier this time? And maybe include a little bit of Seblaine please? Don't worry I don't expect you to write them all over each other. Sorry if that sounds too pushy. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!

[stephab13]

DogLover: Haha yes, I continued. I want to finish this. I don't like things that just... get left abandoned. Says she with only one completed WIP over on FFnet... but yeah. Give me some time and hopefully I'll get this all done :-)

snifflechick: I want to cuddle all of them! But, yes, definitely Nick! And, oh, God, Vegemite soup. I never did that - maybe my friends just weren't as sadistic as yours But... wow... I bet it's some sort of old wives' tale cure for colds and stuff

g123: Woohoo! Gotta love converting people! And Thad... finally has himself a character now in my universe. But they all are pretty sweet. Apart from Andrew... who unfortunately is just that salt I use in my cookies to break up the sweetness... and that's not an innuendo! Okay, so, Sebastian is back, and definitely a lot... cuddlier and sicker and... yeah... As for Seblaine... well, read it and tell me what you think :-)

so... finally got an update for you. There'll be... I'm thinking maybe 3 more installments? But we'll see how it goes.

Also apologies for the length of time of update... As usual, my life is just uni and work and then writing when I get a chance. I also finished TSAB *cries* and started a writing project... well, entered one... but they're all over on FFnet.

Also... I'm not sure if any of you have found me on Tumblr, but, please, feel free to come and say hi! I'm pi-on-a-skateboard over there, open Ask policy and all that jazz :-)

Also... OMG. Glee. EPISODE 7!!!! Heart palpitations and so forth. :P

And and and and... Curt Mega answered my Ask. Which is... rather sad how much I'm fangirling over that, but, well... Yeah. I'm fangirling

Okay. And, update! Woohoo!

“So, do you… like… cheese?”

“More than almost any other animal by-product.”

“Hep-choo! Hep-choo!”

Pretty sure there wasn’t any sneezing in the movie…

… “Sebastian?”

“Yeah, it’s mbe,” the brunette said woefully as he appeared from behind them, dropping down to his position before and rubbing his head.

“I thought you wendt to bed?” Thad pushed himself up, dry voice cracking.

“Could-t sleep,” he replied.

Wes looked back at him, scrutinising him. The poor kid looked, if possible, even sicker than earlier. He was whiter than the piano keys, apart from the deep grey bruising his eyes, and he looked sort of puffy, his sinuses swollen around his face. He… looked a little like Blaine did when his blood sugar dropped below 35.

“You want to watch with us?” Jeff frowned at him as well. “It’s… well, it’s She’s the Man, but it’s actually kinda funny…”

Sebastian made a strangled sort of noise that may have been an attempt at a snort. “Why are you watchigg that?”

“Channing Tatum,” Blaine replied, as Nick answered, “Observing the simbultandeous em-powermbendt of wombend while reindforcing the stereotype of mbend as the dombindant gender… and its effects on heterondormbativity.”

Sebastian shook his head. “So gay,” he muttered. “But, it beats bed… or ToK essays…”

“Isn’t it a bit early for essays?” Wes asked. It wasn’t even mid-year… and he was pretty sure Sebastian was a junior…

He shrugged. “Mbeands I don’t have to do it… do it… hep-choo!... do it later.”

“Bless you.” Thad passed him the tissue box he’d been keeping hostage, shifting a tiny amount on the couch to let the extra boy sit. “How are you feeligg?”

Another attempt at a snort. “Probably like route 66… Trucks keep drivi’g over mbe. Hep-choo!”

Well, at least he had some sort of sense of humour…

“You missed out on the Vegemite challenge!” David told him, grinning. “It was pretty spectacular.”

“Bet Jeff wond that.”

“Actually, no,” Jeff answered. “That honour goes completely to Thad. Disgraceful. I’ll get back home and… I dunno… they’ll put me in a shark cage or feed me to drop bears or something…”

“Thad?!”

“Yeah. I actually ate that stuff,” he said with a groan, hand rubbing his stomach. “Ndever againd. Ever. You owe mbe, Jeff.”

“Au contraire, Thad. I wasted 5 perfectly good tablespoons of Vegemite on you all. I’d say that you all owe me.”

Wes sighed. Families. Never could keep themselves happy for five minutes…

Sebastian groaned, rubbing his forehead… probably referred pain from his frontal sinuses, Wes reasoned. Or maybe a headache from the virus, as Sebastian’s fingers smoothed down said skin and ran across to his temples.

This time, though, it was Blaine that reacted to his discomfort. “Are… you okay, Sebastian?”

He shook his head, and Blaine patted the ground in front of him before opening his arms out wide.

“Come here. It’s okay. Kurt’s always said I have pretty amazing hands. Of course, he’ll claim credit because I use his moisturiser, but, you know…”

Wes sent him a look. Not that Blaine was flirting with danger. Or even really flirting… but there was something else hidden underneath that, that they’d have to deal with later.

But Sebastian… pulled a face… then sneezed a few times, gave a couple of coughs and, with a final sniff that didn’t sound at all pleasant – and the grimace of pain certainly adding to that – sat himself down in front of Blaine, legs crossed and elbows propping himself up on his knees.

“Where does it hurt?” Blaine asked gently, hands hovering over the boy’s shoulders.

“Everywhere,” Sebastian whispered, as a shiver ran itself throughout his entire body, and Wes felt a stab in his gut in sympathy.

“Anywhere in particular?”

“Mby… mby… hep-choo! Choo!... Mby neck. Add mby head add mby back add mby throat add just… hehh’ITCH’uh!” He sniffed, turning away – looking at Wes with bloodshot eyes – to cough into his hand. “Ugh. Sorry. Everywhere. Everythigg hurts,” he finished, shaking.

Blaine tutted, pushing himself a little closer. “Will you be okay if I touch you?”

Apparently Sebastian lacked the energy to mount a response to such a clear innuendo. Instead he just nodded. “Thidk so.”

“Good.” Blaine blew quickly into his hands to warm them up, before sliding down Sebastian’s collar and pressing his fingers deep into the muscles, smooth circles forming to try and ease some of the tension built up.

Sebastian actually moaned… and promptly found himself in another coughing fit.

It was this that seemed to break the… not so much the tension of the room, but definitely some of the uneasiness. Previously, they’d all just been watching the two… and Wes knew that his friends were as worried about Sebastian as they were now Blaine… but the coughing, something they’d all been doing constantly throughout the four or five hours that he’d been back, was a reminder. A reminder that Sebastian was just like them. He was just another ill, and probably homesick, boy, in need of a little care. Just like everyone else in that room.

Blaine looked over at that point, and through the silence, his eyes said everything.

“Alright,” Wes said, standing up and stretching. “I’ll go make some tea.”

[Zebra]

Sebastian. Just, Sebastian. I love him so, so, so much!! And you actually did some Seblaine?! I thought that'd be a bit of a long shot but you did! Thank you!!!! I can't wait for the rest! I'm off to re-read it now!!

[stephab13]

I'll give everything a shot And, I think I managed to leave that up to interpretation a little as well.

... I'm so stuck for ideas right now though. I know I need to focus more on things but I've no idea how to get there... Sigh...

Also... Warblers are sooooooooooooo coming back!!! Anyone else excited?!!!!

... And now I should try and keep writing. If you guys want to see anything, suggestions would be much appreciated right now!!!

[Zane]

Oh my gosh!!! This story is absolutely amazing!! I just.... I LOVE you! You.... You are just so awesome for writing this. Poor Warblers. Poor Trent! I feel bad for the guys especially Trent cause they're all so sick but.......but...... * Que. fangirl squeals* so hope you continue and there is more Sneezy and adorable Trent!

[stephab13]

Oh, wow. I'd actually forgotten completely about this story...

So, it's back. I'm at uni, final year, so posting is going to be hard but... well, I started it. I do want to finish it. And, Zane, you gave me ideas :-) Bugging is good :-) Also... I'm sorry? Both for the update, and for taking so long... Also over on my drabble thread. I have ideas but just no bloody time!

Oh, and it gets a little icky in places... And poor baby. What have I done?

Enjoy?

When Wes made it back to the choir room, steaming mugs of tea with cuts of lemon and tablespoons of honey and cinnamon sticks all on the side, it didn’t take long for him to set himself into action. He distributed a mug to each of the boys (Blaine included – he looked like he needed sugar), but no sooner had half of them drained the cups that he got to work.

“Nick, I admire you, I really do, but… well, I really think you should be in bed.”

Nick moaned, nuzzling into Jeff’s neck, but nodded. “Yeah, probably…”

Jeff kissed his forehead. “I’ll take you up, Squirtle.” He smiled over at Wes as he pulled the blankets covering his boyfriend tighter and helped him to his feet. “Come on, lean on me… That’s right…”

As the blond and brunet disappeared out the door, Wes turned next to Blaine and Sebastian, who looked barely awake. “Bas…”

The junior sniffed and grimaced.

“It’s been an absolute pleasure meeting you, but, honestly, you’re not functional right now, and you won’t be until you get yourself into bed and just sleep… Maybe with some NyQuil as well?”

He coughed.

“Come on, Sebastian.” It was Blaine that spoke this time. “I’ll even go with you. Can you stand?”

It was a credit to the virus that he didn’t make a noise, any sort of argument, just let the old Warbler help him up in a similar manner to the pair before and stumble out.

Wes turned to the remaining pair in the room, mouth open, but before he could speak, David had stood up himself.

“Thanks for the tea, man, but… I’m sorry.” He coughed as his voice broke, already worse than this morning. “I think I might need to head off as well… The tea’s worked wonders, but I just… don’t feel great and… yeah. I’m sorry.”

He did look terribly pale, a hand hovering by his stomach. “Are you gonna make it back?” Wes asked, hand moving up to David’s forehead.

“Yeah, I can. I’m not dizzy or hot, just… I need sleep, I think.” The hand flew back up to his throat as further raspy coughs pushed themselves out his mouth. “And, I’m due for more meds, so I’ll just take some and… yeah. Thank you though.”

Wes pulled him into a hug, careful of his throat and probably other aching muscles. “It’s been great just chilling with you.” His own voice cracked a little now, betraying emotion. “I’ve missed you…”

“Well, come back soon – preferably when we’re all back on our feet!” David smiled. “Love you, man.”

“You too.”

Then David pulled out of the embrace and made his own exit.

So Wes squatted down in front of the couch, left with only Thad. “I’m going to check on Trent… I just… have a bad feeling. But will you be alright while I’m gone? And can I get you anything before I leave?”

Thad sniffed before a huge shudder shook the entire couch. “I’ll be alright. But, could you possibly get mbe sombe Advil while you’re out? Please?”

Wes didn’t need to touch the boy’s skin to know he had a fever… The shimmering of his eyes, his clammy hands and glistening cheeks… “When was your last dose?”

“Rou-d tend, I thick.” Thad pulled the blankets closer, over his head like a cocoon.

It was about 3 now. So definitely time for its effects to be working off. Wes, after glimpsing through the EMERGENCY FLU KIT by the chair Jeff had vacated, grabbed a fresh bottle of water and a couple of pills before helping the junior sit. “Do you want to go upstairs too?”

Thad cleared his throat. “Ndah. I’ll just… crash ond the couch add wait for this to settle ind. I’mb actually ndot that tired yet… Just…”

“Feeling crappy?”

“Sombethigg like that, yeah.” He shivered again, but pushed away Wes’ arm. “Go. Check Tredt. I… Yeah, mbake sure he’s okay. He has’t beend like this sidce…”

“Since last year,” Wes finished, gut clenching. “Alright. I’ll take my phone, and Blaine’s probably got his – “

“I’ll be finde, Wes,” Thad smiled. “Just a little fever. Ndow, go.”

“Alright, alright!” He raised both hands in surrender before letting one brush some of the hair back from Thad’s forehead. “Enjoy your momentary quiet.” Then he backed out the room.

The instant he was out of sight Wes began sprinting, not caring who he met (and scared) along the way… He’d learnt a long time ago that his intuition was typically pretty bang on, and his gut was already screaming at him for leaving Trent even a few hours without someone going in to him… After a horrible chest infection last year, the kid had been prone to some pretty nasty bugs, getting hit hard and fast. And even with the Senega mixture… well, he could basically hear the infiltrate earlier, and he’d been coughing dry as the Sampson just a few hours before that…

He got closer and closer, blood thumping through his veins. As he rounded the corner, he could hear coughing and gasping intermingling with a timid sort of whimper… coming from Trent’s door.

He didn’t even bother knocking. Bursting through the door, all he could see was this horrible mess of blankets, twisted and knotted around the shivering lump, arms flailing, clawing at the air, at his chest. His face was a brilliant red, shimmering as tears poured down his cheeks, a spot of (was it vomit?) by his lower lip and yellow snot… well, everywhere. (Well, definitely a bacterial infection…)

“Trent. It’s okay. Shhhh.” Without realising it, he’d managed to grab a handful of tissues as he leapt across the room, throwing off the blankets and helping the boy sit. “Breathe with me now.” One hand wiping his face, the other grabbing his arm and pulling it on his own stomach. “Feel it. In and out. In and out. In and out. Now you copy me.”

But Trent couldn’t even manage to speak a dissent, coughs still exploding from his chest way too rapidly.

“Slow… Nice and slow… In and out…”

The sophomore gasped, his free hand scrabbling across his torso, head ducked vaguely into his elbow.

He forced calmness into his voice, but his heart felt ready to cut through his sternum. “Trent. It’s okay. You’re okay.” At least, if he could stop the panic, even if not the coughing, the boy could get some proper air… “Do you have an inhaler?”

Trent made a vague motion in the direction of his drawers, gasping, hand flying straight back to his mouth… He had no idea if the attack was slowing or not… (Med student syndrome… it sounds like pertussis…)

Wes grabbed a plastic container, putting it in Trent’s lap (just in case) before rummaging through the drawer, finally emerging with a teal inhaler… But, he could barely get a breath in as it was… How was an inhaler meant to work? Even if he could time it with the scream of air back in…

There was nothing to do but wait it out. Wes hurried into the bathroom (thank God kid’s got an en suite) and ran a face washer under cold water, filling up a bottle, and jumping back, this time behind Trent.

“It’s okay, Trent… It’ll be okay…” But his voice shook. He grabbed the washer, sponging away the sweat. “It’ll end soon.” He rubbed at his back, before finally giving in. Words wouldn’t really have much of an effect, not on this, and all he was probably doing was working the kid up even more… So, he did what he always did.

Hushabye, little darling.

Won’t you lay by my side?

And we’ll fly together on a celestial ride.

I love you, little darling.

I love you, don’t you know?

And we’ll bathe together in the afterglow.

It took a few… okay, countless… repetitions of the song, but eventually, he realised that Trent had collapsed into his chest, wheezing and shaking and crying, but no longer coughing.

“Oh, Trent… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He brought the inhaler to the boy’s lips, holding it steady as he helped him breathe in the medication. “Are you… How are you feeling?”

Trent groaned. “Hurts…”

His voice was barely a whisper. “Your chest?”

He nodded.

“Does it hurt to talk?”

Trent just shrugged… not helping settle Wes’ worries at all. There could be any number of things… Broken ribs was his primary concern, but only just above pneumonia (because that was a definite fever burning into his shirt…) and any number of things.

“Have you...” He shook his head. It wasn’t his place to diagnose. “Trent, I’m sorry, but I think you need – “

“Hospital,” he whined. “I kndow. I ca’t breathe… Add just… Do I have to?”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

Trent thought for a moment, before shaking his head.

“You sure? I can blow off class for a day to stay with you…”

Trent whimpered again, fresh tears streaming down his face. “I… I… Ihhhhh…”

“Need to sneeze. Bless you, in advance.” Wes passed him a handful of tissues, cringing. Poor kid can’t catch a break.

“USH’uh! Hiii’YUSH! Heh… hiTCHOO! … I… Fuhuhhh… SHOO! EhshIEW! NgtchOO!... Wes, I… sh… iiihhh… hiiYESHOO’ESHOO’ESHOO! … Ngt’ngt’CHHH!... help be… SHOO!”

Wes just held him as he continued sneezing, almost as rapid as the coughs had been earlier. It… well, it terrified him a little, to be honest.

“Ngt-CHOO! Heh… heh! HehCHOO!”

By perhaps the twentieth, he’d had enough. It was only a matter of time before something had to give… Most likely Trent passing out. “I’m calling the nurse here, and then an ambulance, okay, Trent?”

“Ush’uh! Hi’ush’uh’USH’uh! Hihhh… Bake it… it stohhh… heh… stop. Please. R’ush’OO!”

Wes was utterly powerless. “I’m trying… We’ll get some oxygen for you. And when you finish, we can raise your feet… Just hang in there…” He looked up to the sky in a silent prayer.

“Eh… SHIEW!... I’b sorry. I… gnTCHOO!... dizzy…”

“I know. Trent, I… God, I just… Shit.”

And Trent just continued to sneeze… How he had managed to retain all cranial matter and not faint, Wes had no idea… The kid was strong, in so many ways, and stubborn… But, God, that nurse could not get here fast enough.

But he managed to hold out… After maybe 30 sneezes, they began to slow, and, though he was hyperventilating, he’d managed to stave off coughing or collapsing.

It wasn’t until the nurse was in the room, slipping an oxygen mask around the sick boy’s face, that his face finally lost its colour and he dropped as a ragdoll, completely at the mercy of Wes’ arms and the gods.

[ID2006]

Amazing update

[Zane]

Have I told you lately that I love you?! Uggghhhhh poor Trent! This last part just ugh poor thing! I just want to hug and cuddle him and make him feel better. You so need to continue this magicalness!!! Love this story! *fangirl squeals* lalalalala....... Love sick sneezy Warblers!

[gummiflummi]

Just found it. In love. Passed out now.

[SpookyScarySkeleton]

Oh my god ^.^