GLEE: This is Totally A Bottle Episode

Jul 25, 2012 22:54

Title: This is Totally A Bottle Episode
author: infraredphaeton
summary: The Warblers are stuck in the music room. Something's happened to Blaine. And Kurt, just a little advice: don't mess with the band, or Pratik will mess with you.
warnings: language, implied violence, OCs, Eric.



Music for this update can be found here: http://www.triplejunearthed.com/jukebox/playlist.aspx?playlistId=infra_c9d69778cc07227ecabb0fdd249f0434&playlist=44871

“Sorry, guys, but you’re going to have to stay up here a little longer,” Mr. Matthews’ said apologetically, stopping the Warblers as they began to gather their bags.

“What’s wrong?” Kurt asked politely, hitching his bag up on his shoulder.

“Well, you know how Blaine didn’t come to class today?”

Wes and David nodded in concert, and Kurt’s polite smile turned confused.

“He’s at the nurse, it looks like he was attacked-”

“What?” David’s eyes widened, and Wes put an arm around his shoulders to comfort him.

“Don’t worry, okay, he’s going to be fine, but we don’t know who it was, and if they’re still on campus-”

“Mr. Matthews, I’m sorry, but could I be excused to check on him?” Kurt asked, biting his lip, and Mr. Matthews’ shook his head.

“Sorry, Kurt, but we’ve gone into lockdown. All students have to stay inside their classrooms until they’ve finished searching the grounds for the culprit. It’s not safe.”

“But-”

“No,” he said firmly, offering a sympathetic look as Wes and David guided Kurt back to a seat.

---

“Mr. Matthews, can I be excused to go sing at the staircase while I make my minions perform a choreographed dance in the background?” Jim asked, capping his nailpolish bottle.

“What? Minions?” Mr. Matthews blinked, looking away from the computer, and the staff email he was compulsively refreshing, and then remembered who he was talking to, answering, more firmly, “No.”

“I bet they’d let me do it at McKinley,” Jim sulked, slumping in his chair, and Eric nodded his agreement.

“They do a lot of emotive singing surrounded by backup dancers,” the redhead agreed, idly kicking the floor so his chair spun in lazy counterclockwise circles. He had been doing this for almost fifteen minutes, and Liam was beginning to get dizzy just looking at him, “I myself did a jazz ballet version of ‘Highway to Hell’ in the principal’s office.”

David leaned in to whisper something in Wes’ ear, brow creased in confusion.

“No. No, I’m trying not to imagine it either,” his best friend replied, patting him on the knee.

Eric glared, stopping his spinning chair and hissing at the two Keiran boys. “I had a lot of feelings I needed to get out!”

“As do I,” Jim cut in, patting Eric on the head when the redhead reared up in a manner eerily reminiscent of a cobra about to strike, “hence my wish to sing on the stairs.”

“Well, you can’t.” Mr. Matthews shook his head, and Jim pouted, crossing his arms.

Eric, who was now on the floor, soothingly stroked the blond’s ankle.

“Why not?”

“Because I said so,” Mr. Matthews said, looking rather out of sorts as the Warbler boys, now going fairly stir crazy, continued to make a mess out of the music room. Gary had somehow unearthed a set of RuneQuest source books, and had organised an impromptu Game in one corner, and he wasn’t even going to wonder how Wes and David had got their hands on a pair of lightsabres. Pratik, once again, was proving why he was Mr. Matthews’ favourite student, as he sat quietly with a guitar, entertaining a group of six boys with new songs he’d written during the assembly.

“That’s not a good reason,” Jim sniffed.

“How about because we’re currently in a lock down situation?”

“Boring.”

“Because God hates you,” David said earnestly, and Jim waved a hand airily.

“I’m an atheist, darling.”

“Fine,” Wes rolled his eyes, “because you touch yourself at night.”

“Wesley, honestly,” Jim looked at him pityingly, “I have people for that.”

From the other side of the room, Gary raised a hand in acknowledgement, and Jim blew him a kiss.

Jim continued to make kissy faces at his boyfriend, and Mr. Matthews’ phone beeped.

“I’m...going to have to step out. I’ll be back in twenty minutes, at most. Can I trust you boys to stay in here?” Mr. Matthews asked, looking down at his phone with a concerned frown.

Various different forms of ‘yes, sure, of course’ came from the Warblers, and Mr. Matthews grabbed his jacket from the hook on the back of the door.

“Now, don’t mess around. Look- uh, break up into groups, I don’t care how, make a song, perform a song, something. When I get back, we’ll have a listen, I’ll award merit points as I see fit, it’ll be fun,” the teacher said, still staring at his phone as he struggled into the coat.

“Be good.”

“I’m always good,” Jim said, offering Gary a lewd grin.

“Can we please stop talking about your sex life? Just for a few minutes? My boyfriend has been attacked by some...some intruder, and I can’t-” Kurt asked, pressing a hand to his forehead in frustration.

“Just because you never got a ride on the Bon-”

“Do not compare yourself to some kind of motor vehicle,” Kurt held up a hand, “or I will do something drastic.”

“When you say drastic, does that mean drastic like what Liam means when he says drastic?” Jim asked curiously, and Kurt raised an eyebrow, puzzled.

Liam immediately flushed bright red.

“...I am not going to ask,” Kurt shook his head, and Jim smiled angelically at him.

“Just let me know when you get bored with Anderson, and I might be feeling charitable.”

“Charitable? What, you’ll forgo your usual charge?” Kurt sniped.

“Oh, trust me, honey, if I was charging, even with a discount, you wouldn’t be able to afford me,” Jim said, still smiling.

“Wow, Lee must have been saving for ages , then,” Kurt drawled, and Jim’s smile disappeared.

“What did you say?”

“Well, he’d clearly been after you for years. He mustn’t have been able to afford you. I mean, you’ve slept with everyone else, right? What, you thought he was just that ugly?”

“Lee’s handsome,” Jim said, frowning.

“Then you must have hated him!”

“Stop,” Pratik murmured, but Kurt and Jim continued to scream at each other.

“Guys, stop, Mr. Matthews will be back any secon-”

“Shut up, Pratik!” Jim snapped, aiming a glare at him, and turned back on Kurt, hands in fists at his sides, “This isn’t any of your business!”

“Great! Bring Pratik into it! What, are you scared that you’ll lose another friend? I mean, I’m assuming you think of your so called band as friends! For all I know, they’re just your-” Kurt reddened, the splotchy red that came from shouting angrily for too long, “your bang buddies or something! You sure as hell didn’t care when Lee got transferred, you just fell into Gary’s bed like he didn’t matter to you at all!”

Pratik blinked, and set down his guitar slowly.

“How dare you! You- you’re just some goddamn commoner!”

“Do you think he knows that isn’t really a valid insult?” David whispered to Wes, who was now standing next to Kurt in a deceptively casual pose.

Pratik closed his ever present lyric notebook and stood up. Harry, seeing Pratik move, bit his lip, backing away from his best friend.

Jim paled, swallowing hard, and brought his fist back to deliver a solid punch to Kurt’s face. Preferably in the nose.

Unfortunately, his fist was stopped by a strong grip on his arm. Kurt, who’d turned his face away from the strike, froze when the expected punch didn’t land.

Wes, who had moved to block the punch, found himself countering thin air, as Pratik had his hand wrapped firmly around Jim’s arm, holding him back.

“Tiki-”

“Go sit down,” Pratik said calmly, his usually warm brown eyes gone cold.

“Pratik, I was-”

“Sit down, Jim,” he offered the pale blond a tiny smile, just a small crinkle at the corner of his mouth, “you’re rocking the boat.”

The lyric seemed to snap Jim out of whatever strange mood he’d fallen into, and he slunk over to where Harry and Gary were sitting next to each other, curling up between them.

“As for you,” Pratik turned on his heel to face Kurt, his hands in his pockets, “Kurt, would you mind if I spoke to you outside?”

“We’re in a lockdown situation,” David piped up.

“Nobody cares,” Pratik said, “Nick and Melvin slipped out to smoke on the balcony half an hour ago, remember?”

Kurt bit his lip, but nodded, following the other boy as he headed for the door. Wes and David started to follow, but Pratik looked back over his shoulder, quelling them with a look.

The balcony door closed behind the two teenagers with a click, and the silence that had fallen while Jim and Kurt fought disappeared.

“Have you ever seen Pratik act like that?” Wes asked the room at large, “That was scary.”

“Maybe he’s on steroids? It would explain the suddenly appearing muscles and scariness and general lack of Tiki-ness about him,” David theorised, and Harry snorted.

“This is band business. As soon as Kurt brought up the band, Pratik was going to get involved.”

“What do you mean?” Wes blinked, confused.

“Did you seriously think that I was in charge of the band?” Jim asked quietly.

“Well, yes,” the wonder twins chorused.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head.

“The thing is, Pratik is the evil mastermind. And I do mean evil. He’s drawn blood at band practice, you know.”

Wes looked at the balcony door, slightly worried.

“So...is Kurt going to be okay?”

“As long as Pratik doesn’t get him behind a bass, he’ll be fine,” Harry said, waving off their worry.

After a second, Nick and Melvin tumbled into the room, reeking of cigarettes and looking slightly frightened of whatever they’d experienced on the balcony. Then, Liam looked at the clock, and let out a surprised yelp.

“Five minutes! Guys, we need songs! Go! Go, songs, make! Jesus-”

“Calm down!” Eric barked, leaping onto the grand piano. “Everybody, shut the fuck up, get in your groups, and be innovative. I’m not getting a C just because the spy and Jim got into a fight. I might as well just drop out and go join the army.”

“I’m planning on joining the army-” said Melvin, looking irritated, and Eric rolled his eyes.

“I’m very happy for you, I hope you enjoy your brain atrification and eventual, inevitable bullet holes. I, however, am going to be on broadway, making millions and married to a beautiful woman who can harmonise with me, and you are not going to stand in the way of my dream!”

Melvin wiped the spittle off his face as Liam grabbed Eric by his climbing harness, pulling him over to their group, and the Warblers set to work.

The music room door opened, and Mr. Matthews stepped in with a wan smile on his face.

“Alright, boys, it looks like the situation has been dealt with, so let’s just hear the results of your assignment, and I’ll let you all go. Blaine is fine, it was all just an accident, but his mom has come to pick him up for the weekend, so don’t panic when he isn’t in the common room tonight.”

The first two groups performed, singing simple, not particularly interesting songs, hands clumsy on rarely used instruments.

Eric’s group, who were the most well organised, settled into place, Eric taking the lead vocals with a victorious grin. The rest of the group, except for Liam, looked distinctly bullied as they took their places.

(All in Good Time)

The last two groups, both missing a member, tried not to be too obvious as they watched the balcony door.

Finally, it slid open, and Pratik stepped in, a small smile on his face as he moved over to the small knot of Jim-and-Gary-and-Harry. Kurt followed, looking slightly abashed, and sat next to Wes and David.

“Alright, Harry, what has your group got to present?”

“Well, Mr. Matthews, we, uh...”

“We have a song we can perform,” Pratik said quietly, offering Harry a smile as he interrupted the other boy’s nervous speech.

“We do?” Harry blinked, “I mean, yes, we do.”

“Jim, we’re doing Winter’s Song,” Pratik informed him calmly, picking up his guitar.

“But that’s not for the publi-” Jim tried to protest, and Pratik just looked at him mildly.

“We’re doing Winter’s Song.”

Jim nodded, going for one of the bass guitars hanging on the wall before obediently settling next to Harry at the microphone, sharing vocals with the singer.

(Winter’s Song)

“....Merit for you all,” Mr. Matthews told them, looking exhausted as he sat down heavily, “go back to your rooms. Don’t dawdle. And Jim, I know it’s a little inconvenient, but could you stay in a Keiran dorm room tonight? I don’t want you walking back to Hallman on your own.”

Jim nodded, and Gary slipped a hand around his waist, tugging him out the door after the rest of the Keiran boys.

Kurt, however, lagged behind.

“Mr. Matthews...”

“Yes, Kurt?” the man looked up, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

“Is Blaine okay? Really?”

“Really. He’ll be just fine, I promise,” he offered Kurt a smile, “he’ll be back before you know it.”

“...Right,” Kurt said with a sigh, and headed for the door.

“Really, Kurt. Now, go hang out with your friends. Do your homework. Watch some abominable horror movie and play violent video games. Relax.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

“Then I won’t ask for any,” Mr. Matthews called after him.

Outside, by the stairs, Wes and David were waiting for him, looking uncharacteristically solemn.

“Are you alright, double oh?”

“I could be worse. I could have had a breakout today, on top of everything else,” Kurt said, and David smiled.

“Well, I reckon we could make it better, right, Wes?”

“Definitely, Davey.”

“The Wes-ster and I have a secret plan.”

“Oh?” Kurt asked, following them down the stairs, “And what’s that? Does it involve a duck?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Kurt,” David shook his head.

“Right, sorry.”

“Blaine’s mom is allergic to ducks,” Wes told him solemnly.

“This plan involves a hedgehog and three pints of lime jello.”

sharp dressed boy, fic, dalton is filled with geeks, team/blu have their own tag, they run in slowmo!, gleeee

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