A/N: It seems that I am facing a huge stretch of writer's block. Please bear with me. Also, it seems that the idea of a crossover is fairly well received, so I will be using a few Criminal minds characters, although this is only to help the main story, which is about Blaine, Kurt, and the stalker. Thank you so much for all your support; I'm terrified of disappointing you, but I think I'll get over it.
There were 38,771 people in Lima, Ohio.
Kurt knew about 500 of them; the kids at school, the guys that worked at his Dad's garage, a handful of the neighbors. But it suddenly struck Kurt how small his circle of acquaintance was.
Kurt stared at the glass doors of the police station. The world outside was dark; the night from outside seeping into Kurt's bones. He had his phone set down on the table in front of him. His Dad's hand was on his back, warm and restraining at the same time, willing Kurt not to jump out of his skin. Sheriff Dew paced on the other side of the tiny holding room they'd been shown into, looking out towards those glass doors every few seconds herself. Kurt's knee bounced in place.
Blaine's father was on the other side of their short row of chairs. He was alone, dark eyes staring forward aimlessly. He had Blaine's nose and Blaine's broad shoulders. There was a book on his lap, and he kept glancing at it, swallowing, and then staring forward.
Dew paused in her pacing directly in front of him, causing the large man to look up at her. "Um, excuse me, Mr. Anderson. We were wondering if you had contact information for Blaine's mother. We should probably let her know-"
Mr. Anderson cut her off, laughing coldly. "Blaine's mother hasn't had any real connection with him since he was in diapers. She left us when he was four, we haven't seen her since. All I have is the address on the last birthday card she sent him." Mr. Anderson opened the book on his lap and Kurt's heart jumped when he realized that it was a baby book. Images of a tiny little person with wild black hair morphed into a slim boy with a bright smile as Blaine's father flipped through to the back. He pulled out an envelope filled with a gaudy, cheaply made birthday card with a teddy bear on the front. He then flipped back to a page near the beginning.
Picture Blaine was about four years old. It was Halloween, judging by the tiny superhero costume and pile of candy. He was beaming at the camera, waving with a chubby, chocolate covered palm. Mr. Anderson's jaw went tight.
"Where's my son?" He asked. "Why aren't you doing anything?"
"We have a special team from Virginia already working on the case," Sheriff Dew answered.
"Special team," Kurt echoed. His voice was hollow. "So this really is a serial killer?"
The officer's eyes locked onto him, but Kurt didn't look away. Eyes couldn't bother him, "I'm afraid so."
Kurt fell silent, waiting until Sheriff Dew walked away to talk to a tall woman with a sheet of dark hair. Burt shifted beside him, for the fifteenth time in the last hour.
"It's okay," Kurt said dully. "You can go to the bathroom, Dad."
Burt stopped moving, glancing at his son. "I don't want to leave you alone."
Burt got up, stretching muscles and shaking his head. He lumbered toward the door. Kurt waited until he was gone to move. Kurt stood up, barely glancing at Blaine's father; the man was still staring aimlessly down at his son's life. Kurt wasn't sure where he was going until he saw Sheriff Dew, talking urgently to the dark haired woman. Kurt quietly pushed back the doors, standing silently behind them. The woman Sheriff Dew was talking to was called Emily, Kurt had heard someone call her that.
"The person we're looking for, he's most likely a narcissist," Emily said, "He believes that every gay man is secretly in love with him and trying to seduce him. If he knows that Blaine's gay, he's going to interpret every movement the boy makes as a flirtation. Glancing at him, looking away, shifting his hips, exaggerated breathing... No matter how scared Blaine would look to one of us, to the unsub, it looks like Blaine's being coquettish. The rape of the primary victim is usually the culmination of these triggers, it's the unsub proving his authority. Giving them what they want. But he usually kidnaps straight boys, he doesn't get triggered by them nearly as easily."
"But Blaine's gay." Sheriff Dew said, "What does that mean?" Emily dropped her eyes, looking uncomfortable.
"It means Blaine Anderson's probably already been raped."