Title: Wonderland
Author: an-alternate-world
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairing: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe
Word Count (Whole Fic): 79,640
Summary: The After was a world where trusting people was unsafe. There was no 'innocent until proven guilty'. There was no 'trial by jury'. If you were Reported, you would be punished on Death Day.
Blaine Anderson had always longed for something different: a true friend just like Before.
Then Sebastian Smythe transferred.
Then he was Shortlisted.
Then Blaine feared the world too.
Warnings/Spoilers: Implied character deaths (non-graphic + unknown characters); Psychological Torture; Suicidal Thoughts; Mental Health Issues - Depression; Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence; Homophobia; Underage Drinking; Alternate Universe - Dystopia
Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with Glee, FOX, Ryan Murphy, or anything else related to the FOX universe

Author's Notes

Secondary art can be found embedded in the AO3 version of this story. A fanmix is also available on AO3 and linked via a post on my Tumblr.

First, I want to extend a HUGE thank you to the GleekMods for inviting me to the 'Out With A Bang' Big Bang late last year. I remain honoured to have been nominated and am incredibly grateful for all my questions you've patiently answered because I'm a skittish, anxious pain in the butt sometimes. After some hiccups with artist pairings, you were extremely helpful in connecting me with a new artist. This Bang was exceptionally well-organised so thank you for allowing me to participate.

Second, I want to extend a thank you to my wonderful artists: Deb (Gleekmom) and Sam (amaradex). Deb, I know you've been following my writing for a long time and I'm so glad we got to work together. The cover art is gorgeous and I think it really captures the tone of the story. Thank you for putting up with my pedantic requests to make adjustments on a whim :) Sam, thank you so much for stepping in as a pinch-hitter when my other artist gave me grief. Your art is beautiful and I absolutely adore the contrasting scenes you chose to illustrate. They were so vivid in my head and seeing them in art form blows my mind.

Third, I want to extend a thank you to Dee (ttinycourageous) and Maggie (eddiethallen) for encouraging me throughout this multi-month and putting up with all my whiny, stress-riddled texts recently. I'm sorry I've been such a pain in the butt. I'll try not to annoy you so much in the future - but no promises!

Lastly, and the biggest thank you of all, goes to my magnficient cheerleader Carmen (current URL - nightflashtian). This fic would never have been finished without your support, encouragement and excitement the past couple of months when I've been really struggling, and you know it. I owe you such a debt of gratitude and if I could get to Indiana at the end of this year to hug you, then I would. I wish I had the words to express my gratitude but I can only hope the finished story will be as good as you've hoped x

And now I'll stop rambling and just cross my fingers that this is as good as Carmen thinks! Please be conscious of the warnings. I know there are a lot. This is much darker than what I usually write.

Chapter 1

He woke to the crack of gunfire.

It was probable that he had missed some shots while asleep but once awake, he counted eleven shots separated by long minutes of waiting. Coiling his sheets closer to his chest, he felt misery stab at his chest.

At least eleven lives taken.

At least eleven families grieving.

Unless, he reasoned, some of the guilty were from the same family. If that was the case, the grieving multiplied exponentially.

The sunlight crept through the shutters on his window, a golden glow cast over his sparse collection of acceptable books and appropriate toys. A threadbare teddy sat atop his bookshelf with eyes that witnessed his tormented sleep. His fingers curled into the soft fabric of his sheets. Another night of terror left him feeling as exhausted as yesterday.

Blaine wished he remembered Before but everything had changed before he was born, before Cooper was born. Few people talked about Before, but his father told him about the range of books you could read, the freedom to travel interstate and overseas, the luxury of rich foods and fine wines, the array of gifts sourced from exotic locations, the camaraderie between neighbours and family and friends. Blaine listened with rapt attention and fascination at the world his father described. There weren't books for Before, nothing with pictures that showed what life was like. He knew because he'd tried to find them once, when he was five and had gone to the local library. He was too young to understand the implications of his questions, too naive to realise the dangers it had placed him in. The terror in his parents' eyes had been unmistakable though and they'd firmly explained to him that he couldn't ask about Before.

It was only later that he discovered his life was spared because of his age.

At seventeen, he was poised to finish high school. When he did, he would enter the workforce like all eighteen-year-old graduates. His mother had lamented the inability of her boys to attend college, a privilege rarely afforded since educated people asked too many questions, but Blaine didn't mind. He didn't know college like his father. He didn't know what he was missing. After years of rigorous lessons and challenging tests, he was more than ready to spread his wings and leave behind the pressures of education.

Not that he was leaving home. He wasn't granted that right until he was at least twenty-one.

Finishing school came with its own set of concerns – finding a job. His father had offered him a role at the music store, perhaps in the hopes that Blaine's love of music would entice new customers through the door. He couldn't tell his father that his interest in music was waning though nor did he think a job in a music store would challenge him for long.

He didn't know what sort of job would challenge him though. Each week the population numbers shrunk. Not to mention there were a finite list of jobs deemed suitable for high school graduates.

Peeling away the sheets, he mentally prepared himself for another day at school. On Wednesdays, anyone could be grieving for a family member or friend. Classes were always more subdued on Wednesdays too, the content less interesting. It was as though an unspoken agreement had formed when classmates were all old enough to understand that frivolity and joy on Wednesdays was disrespectful. When classmates disappeared, or when they returned a week later with red eyes that never faded, Blaine wasn't sure why quiet was only observed on Wednesdays. Blaine didn't think people ever stopped grieving if they lost someone on Death Day.

As he dressed, Blaine glowered at his reflection. He disliked the school uniform and couldn't wait to be rid of it within a year. The white shirt was scratchy against his belly and the navy blazer was boxy and uncomfortable. The grey pants never seemed to fit, maybe because they'd once been Cooper's and his mother would periodically loosen them when Blaine grew. The only thing he liked was the tie. He liked the way it cinched around his neck.

He looked himself over in the mirror and was irritated by the unremarkable uniform.

The workforce uniforms weren't much better. Starched of colour and stiffer than a cardboard box, Blaine eyed his parents' uniforms with disdain which left him unwilling to don his own in less than a year. The limited use of colour in work clothes was, to Blaine, a deplorable waste. He could remember when he'd first seen a multicoloured smudge in the sky. Cooper had called it a 'rainbow'. There were too many colours for Blaine to identify and even Cooper hadn't known them all. Colours weren't important After. His father had said it was unnecessary knowledge for an ordinary person so most people didn't learn them.

Blaine had pieced together the main ones over the years. He'd learned the sky was 'blue' and the grass was 'green'. The yolk of an egg was 'yellow' while the clear part that solidified when cooked was 'white'. He knew not to touch a fire when the coals were 'red'. When the fire was extinguished, 'brown' logs had turned 'black'. He kept his knowledge to himself though. After all, no one else needed to know such useless information. He'd been warned him that too much knowledge was a dangerous thing and curious minds could be Reported. He didn't want to be punished on Death Day because he knew too much about colours.

His dislike for the school uniform aside, Blaine did like the walk to school. It was far enough that he felt the burn in his calf muscles by the time he arrived at his destination. His muscles often ached with phantom pains but it reminded him he was alive. His journey took him along flat roads lined with trees, their coiling and curling branches twisted into elaborate patterns. When the weather cooled, the leaves transformed into shades of red and yellow and other colours he didn't have names for. Then they would swirl to the ground to create a crunchy carpet. In the spring, the trees would bloom again with green leaves and pale red flowers.

His father always seemed glad he didn't know Before, because sometimes people were Reported simply because they were old. Blaine was never felt convinced by that logic. Even if he'd been Reported, even if his days were numbered, he felt like he'd be happier that he'd accrued answers to his questions.

Upon entering the school gates, Blaine saw people milling around with distant expressions. It was disrespectful to ask if you knew someone that might have been Reported but they all knew it was a possibility. Sparse scraps of conversations would be exchanged with fleeting glances or backward steps from anyone that got too close.

Blaine contrasted with the aimless crowds, striding across the front lawn of the school where he found Nick and Rachel at their usual table. They were tucked into the corner of an alcove. Few people passed this spot because it gained minimal sunlight and always felt cold.

"Hey," he said, pulling the strap of his bag from his shoulder as he approached. Rachel looked up from her book and Nick's pencil paused above his sketch pad.

"Morning," Rachel murmured as he slid into his seat beside Nick. He peered at the drawing, the way his friend had captured the light falling through the leaves onto the lawn. It was impressive and Blaine was envious of his friend's talent. He wished there was a way to capture the actual image. They could take photographs Before but cameras were destroyed After, during the Purge.

Nick managed a tired smile and Blaine squeezed a hand to his friend's shoulder. Nick's sister was killed on a Wednesday years ago. Every Wednesday was a reminder for Nick of that same grief they'd all experienced for weeks, months, afterwards.

Rachel lowered her head back to her book and Blaine gazed across the lawn.

Sometimes Blaine wanted to burst with words. He wanted to talk about musical arrangement using instruments he'd dreamed. He wanted to ask Rachel what it was like to kiss someone because she'd had a boyfriend before he'd graduated last year and moved for a job. He wanted to ask Nick if he saw the world like he drew it, in shades of black and white with outlines and highlights or in startling colours that Nick couldn't name.

It was days like this, days when he was struggling to keep the words from flying off his tongue, that he didn't care whether it was a Wednesday or not. He just wanted to speak, he wanted to converse with someone in a way which went further than shallow pleasantries. He'd known Rachel since they were small children but he felt trapped by the layers of propriety and obedience to a system so oppressive it was heavier than an elephant on his chest. Sitting with Rachel and Nick gave him a place to sit, some insulation against the tendrils of cold loneliness, but he didn't think they were true friendships.

True friendships were something he'd only read about. They were typical Before, when people trusted other people, but After, where you could be Reported without evidence to support accusations, it wasn't safe to talk. His world was built on paranoia and fear and Blaine loathed the long stretches of silence that invaded the time he sat with Rachel and Nick. It felt like they didn't trust him.

If he were being honest with himself, he wasn't sure he trusted them.

There was some tittering among the crowds on the lawn that morning. Something shifted across his skin like an unfamiliar and scratchy fabric but he dismissed it as the crisp cotton of his shirt. It was just a silly superstition to be so quiet on Wednesdays. Frustrated with the silence, he was quick to leave Rachel and Nick's company when the bell rang.

As he walked away, he had to remind himself of the reasons why he sat with them. It wasn't like they were terrible people. He enjoyed Music with Rachel even though she wanted to sing everything. Sometimes the teacher tried to mix it up but when Rachel realised an opportunity was passing over her head, she mounted such a loud and passionate protest that she would win the solo. He enjoyed his art classes with Nick even though Nick's talents outshone his own. Blaine had a better appreciation of colour but Nick had form and texture, light and shadows and the ability to leave secrets left in the spaces. He beat them at Math because he found it easy to lose concentration among a stream of numbers and letters. It made sense. It was logical. It was right or wrong, good or bad. It didn't require him to practise.

He entered the Math building and huffed at the door which continued to squeak. His fingers closed around blank space that he wished someone would fill. Sometimes he just wanted to talk to with abandon about his day or feelings. Sometimes he just wanted to feel the warmth of someone's hand in his own. Sometimes he just wanted to know what it was like to kiss someone. Sometimes he just wanted to know what felt like to touch bare skin, disposing of pretence until the person was vulnerable and exposed.

Some nights, his fears gave way to pleasant dreams. The dreams were so intense that he woke up with flushed and sweaty skin and a discomforting weight between his legs. In the morning, he didn't feel refreshed or satisfied from the dreams. He'd never been sure if he preferred the dreams or the nightmares.

He filed into his Math classroom, tilting his head down and to the left in a sign of respect to Mister Matthews. Mister Matthews was an older man, someone who would have seen life Before, but his steely gaze and no-nonsense approach their learning made it clear he had no interest in discussing that time. Blaine wondered how some people coped After when they'd known life Before. How did people accept all the changes? How did people accept a Government that issued so many restrictions?

Mister Matthews began his lecture when the last student sat down. Blaine shared a smile with a blonde girl across the room who was brilliant at Math and incapable of much else. They were rivals in the class, competing for the highest marks and edging each other out with fractions of a percentage on the many tests and exams.

Blaine had started on the work assigned for the rest of the lesson by the time Mister Matthews had finished speaking. Manipulating the formulas was mindless. The rules never changed or gave him cause for concern. Numbers were reliable and safe. No one had ever been Reported because they-

Every eye in the classroom snapped to the door when a faint knock sounded and the handle squeaked. Blaine looked around, searching for someone that was late, but the regular students were there. He watched, as stunned as anyone else, when as a tall boy entered the room and bowed his head with a tilt to the left.

"A new transfer, Matthews," the principal said as she followed the boy into the room. She was a female who always dressed in black. Her bob of black-streaked, chocolate-coloured hair was tucked behind her ears. Her impassive face and choice of clothing often featured in his nightmares about the executioner. Her mere appearance caused such anxiety that he'd never dared learn her name. "We were caught with administration papers. I apologise for the tardiness."

Matthews eyed the new boy with distrust, as did everyone else. They'd forgotten about completing the assigned work. Transfers were a rarity, especially those of school age.

"Don't be tardy again," Matthews said gruffly. He pointed to a spare seat along the opposite wall, where a red-haired girl had once sat. She hadn't returned to school after a long weekend.

Blaine watched the boy keep his head low and his eyes averted from the unashamed stares of the rest of his class. He was taller than Blaine and his shoulders were broad. His hair was like the fresh bark that peeled from the trees after a summer fire. His face was pale but held a small amount of colour, like the sun had kissed him faintly bronze. Blaine noticed how long the boy's fingers were, distracting him with the way they curled around his pencil as he began copying notes. He could see the boy's arms were angular beneath his blazer but the rest of his body shape was lost under the layers of fabric. Despite how much he stared, Blaine couldn't see his eyes past the strands of hair – but he wanted to.

"Back to work!" Matthews grunted and the attention of Blaine's classmates returned to their books.

Blaine wasn't sure about everyone else – he didn't care enough to check – but he struggled to focus on his work. Instead, he stole looks at the new boy who appeared fixated on completing the work as elegantly as possible. Blaine never knew anyone could hold a pencil like that. The boy's thumb and index finger were poised against the wood and Blaine could see the small bones of his hand arched beneath the stretch of his skin. The back of Blaine's neck felt warm when he wondered if the boy would pose for Blaine to sketch – or if he could convince Nick to sketch the new boy so he had a picture to hide in a secret place in his room. Was that too creepy?

When the bell rang, Blaine had completed the work but it had been slower than usual. Looking at his books revealed the disjointed handwriting caused by his lazy concentration. He felt ashamed as he turned in his exercise book to Mister Matthews to check. When he realised the new boy was already gone, he left the classroom.

He wasn't surprised that no one else had hung back to say hello to the new person. Transfers were so rare that Blaine wanted to see the up close boy. Perhaps others were so paranoid that they had no interest in reaching out. There had been a story a few years ago of transfer students enrolling in schools in other towns. It eventually came out that they were planted by the Office of the Sheriff to Report dissenting students and their families. Since then, transfers between towns had reduced and those who transferred in were treated with more distrust and disdain than anyone you might have grown up with.

The new boy appeared in front of him, fiddling with the strap of his bag and holding a piece of paper. A frown marred his face, his lips pursed together in an obvious sign of frustration. Blaine guessed the paper was his schedule and the boy was lost. Biting his lip, he wondered if the other boy was wary of others but he stepped forward.

"Hi. Do you need some directions?" he said in a rush, before he could lose his nerves and run away with hands covering his reddening face. The words blended together and he knew he'd butchered. It would be a wonder if the stranger understood anything he'd said.

The new boy's eyes rose from the paper to meet Blaine's anxious, flitting gaze. Blaine's throat tightened at the stare. The eyes were almost as piercing as Mister Matthews but coloured like the fresh leaves in spring and dappled with streaks of blue sky. He was glad he hadn't seen the boy's eyes in Math. The distraction would have been immense and-

The edge of the boy's mouth quirked as he looked Blaine up and down. Blaine realised, with a flush, that his mouth was ajar in shock or surprise or awe or-

"I have Chemistry," the boy said, his voice hushed. He glanced at other students watching them. Evidently the boy understood why people would be distrustful of his transfer status.

"So do I!" Blaine said, his exuberance crushed by embarrassment. He fiddled with the hem of his blazer and pressed his lips into a shy smile. "Do you…want to walk together?"

Blaine could see the mental calculation taking place in the other boy's mind. It was there in the slight narrowing of the boy's eyes, his gaze so intense Blaine thought his secrets had imprinted on his skin. It was clear this boy was suspicious and Blaine wished for a time when making friends was easier. He hated the system and the persecution but he kept quiet in front of the new boy's scrutiny.

"Sebastian," the boy said, hesitating a moment before he folded his schedule into his pocket.

Blaine ducked his head but managed to look up through his eyelashes. "Blaine."

The boy, Sebastian, nodded and Blaine began to lead him through the corridor. He was ready to explode with questions. Where had Sebastian come from? Why was he here? Had he moved before? When had he arrived? He was only quiet because of something in the glances Sebastian kept shooting. As mysterious as Sebastian was, he could be a danger.

In the end, Sebastian broke the silence.

"So did you grow up here?" Sebastian said, the knuckles of his fingers white with the grip he had on his bag. Blaine thought it was strange. No one held onto their bag that tightly.

"Yeah." Blaine wrinkled his nose before shaking his head. He pushed open a set of doors to cross the quad to the Science block. "It's pretty boring. Nothing happens except- Well…" He made a gesture with his hands that didn't actually convey anything.

"I get it," Sebastian said, inclining his head to the side before pressing his lips together. It looked like he wanted to say something else was hesitating again. Blaine wished he could squeeze words out of people easier. This stupid Gover-

"Blaine!"

He looked around at the call of his name, spotting Rachel rushing across the quad. He waved as she approached but her dark eyes were scanning Sebastian, her brows furrowed in distrust.

"You're new," she said, her frown deepening and her lips settling in a flat line. "We never get new people."

"Rachel!" he hissed. Rachel's lack of filter tended to be one of her biggest flaws. Too often she came across as rude and abrupt.

Sebastian was quiet a beat too long. When Blaine glanced at the other boy, he noticed Sebastian's strained smile and distant stare. He almost took a step forwards with the intention of offering Sebastian comfort before realising he knew nothing except the boy's name.

"My mom got a new job," Sebastian said, his gaze settling on Blaine then Rachel as if to silence them from asking further question. "Chemistry?"

Blaine squeaked when he realised they'd gotten distracted and grabbed at Rachel's arm. He dragged her beside Sebastian, hopping a little to keep up with the taller boy's loping stride. Rachel tried to question him in a whisper but he didn't have any answers for her. He also didn't want Rachel asking Sebastian and scaring the new boy away. If he was a decoy placed by the Office of the Sheriff, then they could all get into trouble.

They rushed into Chemistry five seconds after the bell, averting their eyes from Mrs Fredericton when she frowned at their tardiness. Sebastian collected a textbook and then moved a stool to the bench Rachel and Blaine were at.

"He's our new lab partner?" Rachel said, her nails sinking into Blaine's elbow in a sign of her distress.

Blaine shrugged and cast a look towards Sebastian. The boy was listening to Mrs Fredericton starting the lesson at the front of the room. "Guess so," he said when he looked at Rachel, shaking off her hand and attempting to focus as diligently as Sebastian.

It was clear that Nick was suspicious of Sebastian from the moment he spotted the boy following behind Blaine and Rachel. Nick's hazel eyes narrowed and he folded his arms over his chest. Blaine wondered whether Nick was wary because Sebastian was new or because it was a Wednesday and Nick already felt vulnerable.

Sebastian was quiet during lunch as were Nick and Rachel. Blaine felt frustrated with his friends' behaviour and searched for an ice-breaker topic they could discuss. Sebastian didn't appear fazed by the behaviour but Blaine didn't think the new boy would sit with Nick and Rachel again. They weren't being…rude but it was uncomfortable.

Nick caught Rachel's elbow when the bell rang and steered her towards the Arts building. Blaine lagged behind, wanting to reassure Sebastian that they weren't usually like this.

"Your friends are thrilling," Sebastian said with a sly grin curling the edge of his lips. "I can see why you sit with them."

Blaine tried not to wrinkle his nose at the observation. Rachel thought it was cute and he already felt embarrassed enough. "They made an awful impression, didn't they?"

Sebastian shrugged and got to his feet, picking up his bag and pulling it over his shoulder. The grin widened, a sparkle appearing in the eyes that Blaine wanted to paint. "Lucky your ass made an excellent impression on me earlier."

Blaine didn't think he'd ever blushed so crimson in his life. He was still staring after Sebastian long after the boy had entered the Human Sciences building.

~TBC~