Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING! Not Virals, not Glee, not anything. I own a computer. Das ist es.

Tory POV (yet again)

A black van was parked right next to our RV. The same black van that followed us from Charleston to New York City. The same vam that, evidently, had followed us from New York to wherever we are now (Virginia? North Carolina?). Oh, crap.

The situation worsened when I saw a familiar face, flanked by two guys with guns and one other creepy-looking dude.

"Chance Claybourne." I said coldly at the same time as Kurt spoke up.

"Sebastian Smythe."

"You know this guy?" we both whispered at the same time. Under normal circumstances we would have laughed at this, but these were not normal circumstances. Unless getting confronted by rich creeps from high school (who just so happen to come with their own personal firing squad) is normal for you.

"He went to high school with us. I used to have the biggest crush on him till he and his girlfriend tried to kill us."

"Ex-love rival."

"What do you want from us?" I asked.

"We want to know."

"Know what?"

"About your abilities. What can you do? How can we use it? That sort of thing." Sebastian seemed disturbingly nonchalant about the concept of studying us like a specimen on a microscope slide.

"If you touch my pack, I'll set my dog on you." The armed thugs pointed their weapons at Coop, who growled threateningly."

"Fortunately for the mutt, we don't need your pack". Chance spat the last two words as if they left a bad taste in his mouth and took a step forwards. "We just need two subjects. A male and a female." That means me, I guess.

"Fine." I snapped. "Just don't expect me to cooperate." One of the thugs grabbed me by the arms and cuffed my wrists, to make sure I wouldn't make a run for it.

"Now for Subject 2." Sebastian sneered, scanning the rest of my pack. Ben. Wes. Blaine. Shelton. David. Hiram. "Kurt."

The back of the van was dark and smelled of urine, sweat and fear. Chance and Sebastian's thugs stood against the sides of the vehicle, just in case we attempted to escape. (How we'd manage this with handcuffs I do not know.) I felt sick. The road beneath us was bumpy, and all I could hear was the low growl of the engine and the quiet sobs of my companion. I wanted to tell him it was gonna be fine, but I couldn't. How could I, when I didn't even know it myself?

I know this chapter is dead short, and I'm sorry. I guess I've just lost interest in Glee. I know how much it sucks when you follow a fic and then realise it will never be completed, though, and I couldn't do that to another human being, so I'll do my best to get this done. I'm not abandoning this, I promise!