A/N: Sorry about the wait. Real Life is a bitch.

My tumblr is bellastarkideve. Ask anything you want to know about this or any of my other stories. Sometimes I forget about some of my stories so just ask about an update if it gets a while.

Anything recognizable is not mine.


When Kurt woke up, he was in the same position on the floor that he was thrown in in the night before; limbs splayed out in every direction with his face pressed into the soft carpet. His bruised and aching body was still clothed in his comfortable t-shirt and pants he had originally gone to bed in, and his head pounded while his joints screamed in pain from their lack of movement throughout the night. He knew better than to think it all a dream. The unfamiliar surroundings were enough to tell him that he certainly wasn't dreaming.

A florescent light coming from somewhere Kurt couldn't see was illuminating the strange place. It was a small space, but not so small that it was cramped and uncomfortable. The plush carpet was the same drab gray of the building he had already seen, and the walls were a soft green that reminded him of an Easter egg. It was strangely... calming. A twin bed was pressed up against the far corner of the small room, covered in a black comforter and two pillows: one gray, one white. Gray seemed to be the dominant color in this facility. There were gray drapes over a holographic window—it had to be holographic… it was on an inside wall—over an ebony desk with a white chair. There was a wardrobe by the door, the wood the same ebony stain as the desk, but no clock. Where was the clock? The desk lady had told him to be out to breakfast by a specific time, but how on earth was he to know what time it even was if there wasn't a single time-telling device in his room.

"There isn't a clock in—" He began to mumble, but the moment he said clock, a large digital display appeared in the middle of his room. Its bright red numbers read 6:42 am. He watched it blink for a moment, the numbers starting to put him on edge for some reason. Without thinking, Kurt rose to his feet, stumbled through the large clock, and ran out the door. No sooner was he outside that he was colliding into something and on the ground again.

"I am so sorry! I am so, so sorry!"

Kurt frowned at the unfamiliar voice. It didn't sound loud and threatening like the two guards that carried him in did. It was sincere and… concerned? He tried not to flinch when two hands wrapped around the back of his arms to help him up, but the way the guards had handled him last night left him sore and probably bruised. The strange voice laughed.

"You've been around Cacius and Brnsun? They like to grab and jerk, gives them a thrill... there you are."

On his feet, Kurt finally took the opportunity to properly take in his surroundings. The sky was a soft pink with oranges and golds swirled together like paint on a mixing palette… obviously a hologram. That or wherever they were had a pink sky. It gave the white flowers on the dogwoods a faint rosy tint that almost suited them better than their natural creamy color. He thought back to last night when he was all but dragged through the courtyard. The stadium lights on the buildings had managed to wash out every inch of the scene, even the dogwood blooms. His nose wrinkled in confusion. Why did this place feel so empty, yet there was beauty in the smallest details? It just didn't make sense.

"They think making this place so amazing will make us forget."

Kurt turned around to finally face the voice of his morning run-in. The boy, not older than him, was looking up at the sky just like he had just been doing. His gaze was locked in on some distant piece of the atmosphere, almost like he could see through the peaceful guise in place before them. He practically glowed when he phased out. Even standing up straight, he was slightly shorter than Kurt, not enough to really notice, but shorter nonetheless. His dark hair was gelled back viciously, smoothing out any sort of texture in it. Kurt frowned. "Forget?"

The boy smiled as if he had just brought up an inside joke, and Kurt's stomach did a small flip. "Forget that we are never leaving."

His smile vanished as he looked at Kurt, eyes raking down his pale body quickly before locking his hazel gaze with Kurt's own.

"Blaine."

The name didn't register to him. He was lost in those hazel eyes.

"Hey, you okay?" Warmth flooded the spot on his arm that Blaine lightly touched, and he was jerked back to reality.

"Sorry, yeah. I'm... Kurt."

There was that smile again. "Kurt. I like it."

"Thanks." He smiled back.

Blaine extended his hand. "So, Kurt, would you like to accompany me to breakfast."

Kurt just stared at the hand blankly. "I'm not hungry."

"Oh, don't worry…" Blaine grabbed his hand, and the warmth from it rushed up his arm and into his chest, relaxing the tension in his shoulders. "you will be when you smell the food."

So Kurt followed him. He followed this boy, Blaine, whom he hadn't even known for more than five minutes. Blaine pulled him through the courtyard specked with men and women by trees reading or sleeping. There was a gentle wind blowing through the branches, causing a soft rustling that made Kurt close his eyes and just listen. It was so peaceful here. He could just sleep in the grass and listen to the wind and fountain forever. But then what Blaine said earlier hit him. They think making this place so amazing that will make us forget... forget that we are never leaving. His eyes shot open and a sob ripped through his throat without warning. Blaine stopped and spun around.

"Kurt?"

"I came here in the black van." It wasn't a question. He knew it wasn't a question. Blaine didn't have to answer him. Kurt knew now.

"Yes."

Suddenly, he couldn't hear the fountain, he couldn't feel the wind, and he couldn't see the sky. Everything just went black, and he toppled to the floor, screaming.

"My dad. His heart can't take this. It won't take this. This is going to kill him!" Memories from his mother's funeral came crashing down onto him. The coffin, the flowers, his dad crying. His chest felt hollow. He had nothing left; he was empty. There was literally nothing left for him. He wasn't going home, and even if he could, the house would be burned to the ground. It was infected. He was infected.

So he screamed.

The five or six people in the courtyard shot him and the boy kneeling beside him sympathetic looks. Blaine placed his thumb in the middle of Kurt's forehead, and the warmth spread through his body in a second flat.

He passed out.


When Kurt woke up, someone was humming a song he remembered from his earlier high school days.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night,
Take these broken wings and learn to fly.

He smiled softly and rolled onto his side, only to meet a small body of heat. He screwed his eyes shut, and swallowed the bad taste in his mouth. "Dad?"

The humming stopped and an exasperated sigh replaced the soothing melody. A familiar warmth spread across his chest, the empty feeling residing slowly. His eyes snapped open. Blaine was smiling sympathetically down at him.

"No, Kurt."

Kurt waited for the pain of loss to wash over him and his tear ducts to fill, but the sensation never came. He was stuck laying there with Blaine's hand on his chest.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

The hand retracted with light speed, and the feelings Kurt was waiting for hit him like a ton of bricks. Every bad feeling pushed into his chest so quickly, he was afraid he might burst. Every part of his body felt cold, and he instantly longed for the warming feeling produced by Blaine's hand. Kurt reached weakly for it, but Blaine pulled back.

"I forget about my power sometimes." he said, looking down at his hands.

Kurt sat up, vaguely aware that they were in a secluded corner of a field. "Wha—"

"I'm a healer, Kurt. What else could your sudden relaxation be caused by?" His fingers caught in the thick gel of his hair as he ran a frustrated hand through it. "They can't use me in the labs because I'm only sixteen, but in two years, I'll be like a slave. They'll force me to work for them, but I'll get nothing in return... not even a call to my family."

Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand. It wasn't to relieve his pain, although it did, but to comfort him. Kurt thought back to the times when his mom or dad would hug him when he cried and how it made him instantly feel better. He pulled the other boy towards his body and wrapped his weak arms around him. Blaine stiffened in his arms as if he'd never been embraced and didn't know what to do. Then the wheels seemed to come unstuck and he slowly wrapped his arms around Kurt's slender frame. The warmth from it almost overwhelmed him, sending him into a dizzying spin of peace. His vision began to go blurry at the edges, body going boneless. Blaine seemed to feel Kurt's weight deaden in his arms, and released him.

The feelings of loss returned, but in a less powerful way. It was almost as if some of Blaine's power was still holding to him.

"Well," Blaine began, "breakfast is over, but I know some of the kitchen staff and I can get us some food. You must be hungry."

Kurt nodded as his stomach gave an agreeable noise. A laugh escaped the other boy.

"C'mon then." He stood up and extended a hand towards him. This time it was Kurt's turn to stare at it. He didn't want Blaine to think he was this fragile little thing that constantly had depressing feelings swirling around inside of him. But he also didn't want to be rude. Blaine seemed to sense his inner turmoil.

"I'm not going to think you're using me for my healing powers, if that's what you think, simply by taking my hand." He said.

Kurt blushed and placed his hand in Blaine's. He welcomed the warmth that gathered in his fingertips and slowly spread to his chest, but also smiled at the way their hands fit perfectly in one another's. Blaine smiled back at him as he pulled him to his feet.

"Let's go meet my friend Nick."


A/N: Reviews are appreciated, but not necessary.