A WEEK AGO:

Natalie Arrow shakes his hand, talking about their mutual acquaintance at the same time, and Kurt can feel her slip a small piece of paper in his hand. When he withdraws his hand he immediately pushes it inside his pocket, dropping the paper there and hoping that Blaine isn't watching the surveillance footage too closely right then.

For the rest of the meeting he keeps itching to take out the paper and read it, but he knows he can't. Not when he doesn't know what it's about, not until he's done with what he has come here to do and is back in his own loft, with no one to see him.

Blaine drives him home after the mission, and Kurt honestly thinks about mentioning the paper, thinks about taking it out there and then, but he doesn't know whether it's related to the case or not – so he talks about the case with Blaine, makes theories and smiles at him, all the while with an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

When he's inside his apartment, he finally fishes the piece of paper from his pocket, straightening it out against a table. It's just a time and an address, nothing else, written with a vaguely familiar handwriting on a sheet from a generic notepad.

It could be a trap. It could be anything.

Several hours later Kurt is standing at the given address in a street corner, looking around. It's late and the wind feels chilly against his cheeks, but there's a restaurant opposite him and it's still open, the delicious aroma of good food wafting through the air. Kurt squares his shoulders against the wind and glances at his phone to check the time. Whoever the message was from is late. A few people walk past him, but he doesn't recognize them, and he's just about to give up when he sees a woman walk out of the restaurant, her hips swaying, and Kurt knows who she is before she even opens her mouth and calls out to him.

"Fancy seeing you here," she drawls, stepping into the light and stopping a few feet away from Kurt.

"Mutual acquaintance," Kurt mutters to himself and shakes his head before meeting the woman's eyes. "I can't believe you're still in touch with Natalie Arrow, Santana."

Santana grins and shrugs her shoulders lightly. "What, our break-up was friendly enough. We talk, every now and then, and the last time we did she let it slip that our old friend Curtis Lawrence was back in town." She tilts her head in a way that Kurt knows too well. "Imagine my surprise."

"Last I heard you were doing a lot more than just talking with Natalie," Kurt counters. He had a hunch that the note was from Santana – she is basically the only mutual acquaintance he and Natalie have – but seeing her right here, looking the same she did the last time he saw her, is still a bit disconcerting.

"That was over four years ago," Santana says, as if she's read his mind. "Before you went to prison. Why didn't you tell me you got out, Kurt?" She rocks on her high heels, crossing her arms over her chest.

Kurt sighs and looks away. "Because I didn't technically get out."

"Oh, I know. You made a deal with the FBI and got put on a leash to help them catch other people just like you." Santana steps into his personal space, her eyes shining in the light of a nearby streetlamp. "Like I said – why didn't you tell me, Kurt? I thought we were friends."

Kurt stops, feeling like his heart just jumped to his throat. "How do you know about my deal with the FBI?" he asks pointedly. If Santana knows about it, there must be other people who know about it as well, perhaps even other criminals, and all the undercover assignments he has could be –

"Relax, Hummel, it's not common knowledge," Santana says, flipping her hair from her shoulder. "Let's just say that Natalie isn't the only one I've kept in contact with from our old lives." She smirks. "And that cops can be surprisingly chatty when you give them a few drinks. But you still didn't tell me why I had to find about you being out of prison from someone else."

"Sorry," Kurt says, playing with the sleeve of his coat. His life in prison was lonely and boring, and after he took Blaine's deal he's been too busy, too excited or too... too charmed by Blaine to think about his old friends. "It's just... It's been complicated, and I didn't think you'd want to see me if I'm working with the FBI," he explains.

Santana scoffs. "Come on, we're still friends, no matter what you do. Besides, I've basically given up the life of crime as well." She gestures at the restaurant behind her. "I'm the live musical entertainment of that place, if you can believe it. Santana Lopez sings, five nights a week. I'm on my break right now."

Kurt lifts his eyebrows, looking from her to the restaurant and back again. Santana talks as if it's not a big deal, but Kurt can see the pleased curve of her mouth and the relaxed way she's standing, both sure signs that she actually likes her current life. "That's... That's amazing, San," he says, meaning it as well. "I'm really happy for you."

Santana shrugs, but the smile keeps playing on her lips. "It's nice. I mean, conning people and stealing things was fun as well, but I figured I can't exactly do that for the rest of my life. Right?"

"Right," Kurt repeats, scuffing his shoe against the pavement. He thinks about the way Blaine looks at him, the way Blaine always seems to see something else in him besides the con and the criminal. It makes him feel like there actually is something else in him, something that he hasn't thought about in a long time. And if Santana has managed to leave it all behind, even if she was never in as deep as he was...

"What about you then?" Santana asks, looking him up and down. "You look the same, but I'm guessing this FBI gig isn't a permanent one?"

Kurt shrugs, feeling like he should downplay his current life. "Oh, I don't know. I'm basically taking it one day at a time for now."

Santana nods, and then hesitates, showing a rare glimpse of thoughtfulness not a lot of people get to see. She loosens her arms, and Kurt knows that look, remembers it from high school and from those months and years after high school, when Santana acted like herself but still sometimes just stopped to look at him like that, like she was trying to arrange her words a little more kindly than usually.

"Have you found out anything new about your –" she starts, her voice quiet and careful.

"No, Santana, I haven't," Kurt interrupts her, his own voice harsh, and crosses his arms over his chest, looking away. He knew this was coming, but it doesn't mean he's ready or happy about it.

"What about Finn?" Santana continues, trying to look into his eyes.

"Nothing new there either. When I escaped from prison I thought..." Kurt trails off when he remembers the empty apartment, remembers being so sure that Finn was going to be there, only to realize that he missed him by hours, that his brother was out of the country already and he had no way to reach him anymore.

Santana frowns. "You haven't given up, though, have you?"

"Of course I haven't!" Kurt exclaims angrily, turning to look at her, tightening his arms around himself for protection. "How could I, when sometimes it's the only thing that I can..." He stops, swallowing and blinking the sudden tears from his eyes. He's not going to cry, not right now, not in front of Santana when the last time he saw her was years ago and some things he wished had changed by now still haven't.

"I haven't given up, Santana," he continues, hearing how defeated his own voice sounds, "but there's just nothing new to find. Nothing."

Santana's lips turn into a grin and she raises her eyebrows suggestively. "You could ask help from your new agent friend..."

"No." Kurt immediately shakes his head. "I'm not bringing Blaine into this mess." It's his mess, his problem, his past, and he's going to deal with it on his own, even if he sometimes feels like telling Blaine everything, just laying it all in front of him and watching what he'd do with it. But that's not going to happen. At least not anytime soon.

Santana's grin widens, turning sly. "Oh, so he's Blaine already? First name basis, impressive, Hummel. With your skills I'm sure you could charm him to do whatever you want him to do –"

"Stop it, it's not like that," Kurt snaps. Trust Santana to go from understanding to annoying in the span of seconds.

Santana laughs, lifting her hands in a placating gesture. "Then tell me what it's like, working with Blainey-boy?" She draws out the name, somehow managing to make it sound both ridiculous and dirty.

Kurt sighs, running his hand through his hair and deciding to be honest. Santana would call him out if he wasn't anyway; she's one of the few people besides Blaine who has always managed to read him too well. "It's... different. He gave me a chance when I thought I had nothing left, and I took it."

"Wait, hold on a moment." Santana leans towards him, lowering her voice when a few people walk past them on the otherwise quiet street corner. "Are you saying that you chose the deal? Why on earth would you do that? I though you liked being a con-man."

"I did, for a while, because it seemed like the only thing I could do." Kurt shifts on his feet, looking past Santana at the restaurant behind her, at the lights shining from its windows. "But now... I think I want to be something else. Someone else." He stops and looks away, saying the next words in a quieter voice, surprising even himself when they come out. "I... I want to be the person Blaine sees when he looks at me. He just... He looks at me in this way that makes me feel like there's more to me than this, like I could be myself again. And he makes me feel like it's actually possible, like that person is still there, underneath all these crimes and cons and aliases."

Santana's eyes soften. "You miss it?"

Kurt doesn't have to ask what she means. "Of course I do. I didn't exactly think my life would turn like this when I first came to New York."

"Maybe you should think about telling this to that Blaine guy then." Santana shrugs. "Maybe he could help."

"Oh, no." Kurt shakes his head. "I mean, I think we're friends, but I don't... I'm not going to tell him things like that. He's still my handler."

"Oh my god, that sounds so dirty," Santana cackles. Then she suddenly sobers, pointing a finger at Kurt. "Wait. Wait wait wait. You like him. You like this fed!"

Kurt rolls his eyes. "Santana..."

"Oh my god, you do like him!" she exclaims, reaching out to grab his hand. "Holy crap, Hummel, do you have any idea how long it's been since I last got the chance to gossip about relationships with someone? The other workers at that restaurant are complete morons, seriously." She tugs at his arm. "Come on, I'm buying you a drink and then you're going to tell me everything about your new favorite federal boytoy."

"No, San, there are so many things wrong in that sentence that I don't even..." Kurt starts, but then Santana pulls his hand more strongly, a grin on her face, and he unconsciously takes one step forward with his left foot – and suddenly a loud beeping noise echoes around the street corner, the sound startling both of them and making Santana let go of Kurt's hand in surprise.

"What is that?" she asks over the noise, looking around.

It takes barely a few seconds, but then Kurt remembers his anklet, and when he looks down he can see that the normally green light on it is blinking with an angry shade of red over his shoe, the beeps sounding in time with the blinking. He quickly steps back, stumbling a little with the movement. The light immediately flicks back to green, and the sound stops.

"My... my radius," Kurt explains, still staring at his anklet. He completely forgot about it, about the edges of his radius, about his current life that is so different from the life he had when he last saw Santana and also from the life he wants to have. It's like a bucket of cold water, reminding him of where and who he is. "I stepped outside my radius," he says, more to himself than to anyone else.

"Kurt?" Santana asks, taking a step towards him.

"I have to go, San," Kurt says, lifting his head and looking at her. "I... I don't think you should stay in contact with Natalie anymore, okay? Trust me. Just in case."

"Kurt, what the hell are you talking about?" Santana tries to reach out for him again, but Kurt takes several steps away from her, and her hand only touches air.

"I have to go," Kurt repeats, trying to sound sorry because he is sorry, he would love to hang out with Santana and pretend that everything's the way he wants it to be, but he can't. Santana has gotten out of this life, has an actual job and is free to go wherever she wants, and it's all something that Kurt wants as well – but he also knows he can't have it back. "Don't be a stranger?" he adds, turning his back to her.

"Kurt!" Santana calls out after him, but Kurt is already walking away, glancing at his anklet every now and then.

The light stays green.

---

NOW:

Blaine opens his eyes again in the ambulance, looks around for a moment until his eyes land on Kurt, and then he says in a dazed voice, "You're here."

Kurt glances at the paramedic sitting on Blaine's other side. She lifts her head and gives Kurt a small nod, as if she's telling him to keep talking and keep Blaine awake until they get to the hospital, and Kurt looks away from the blood stains on Blaine's white shirt, focuses his eyes on Blaine's face and squeezes his clammy hand gently where his own fingers are wrapped around it.

"I'm here," he promises, and Blaine's eyes soften in a way that looks weirdly focused, like he isn't going into shock anymore and knows exactly what's happening. "Have I told you about that one time when I allegedly snuck into an actual European castle?" Kurt continues, changing the subject.

Blaine furrows his brows in confusion and gives a small shake of his head. "I... don't think so?"

"Good. Because I'm going to tell you about it right now," Kurt says decisively.

Blaine's lips quirk up in a small smile.

For the rest of the ride Kurt keeps telling Blaine stories about his alleged crimes, even throwing in a few adventures that didn't happen to him personally, just to keep Blaine's attention away from the paramedics and the wound on his side. He squeezes Blaine's hand a little more tightly every time the ambulance hits a bump on the road and Blaine winces in pain, his jaw clenching like he's trying not to cry out. Kurt's own heart has taken residence somewhere near his throat, but he doesn't let it show, not right now, not when he doesn't want to upset Blaine in any way.

When they get to the hospital Blaine is immediately taken away, and Kurt is told to wait behind in the waiting room. The paramedics said that the wound isn't hopefully as bad as it looked like, but when Kurt sits down on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs he realizes that his fingers are trembling, as if they started to feel cold as soon as he let go of Blaine's hand. The tremors are running up and down his arms, and he has to go wash his hands with hot water just to make them go away.

Kurt has never really liked hospitals that much.

Tina and Sam arrive some time later, wordlessly sitting down next to him. Tina keeps wringing her hands every few minutes, but Sam looks surprisingly calm, stretching his neck and glancing at the clock on the wall opposite them only once or twice. He's probably used to things like this, even if Kurt has always been under the impression that the White Collar Division is regarded as the most boring and non-violent division in all of FBI. But Blaine was weirdly calm in the ambulance as well, so perhaps agents with several years of experience know how to deal with shootings and hospital visits. Kurt isn't sure if he could ever learn to deal with them, even though his career of crime wasn't always exactly a picnic either – but he can't get used to this, not when he can still feel the phantom stains of Blaine's blood on his hands.

They sit in silence for a long time, the minutes ticking by, people coming and going. Eventually a small child on the other side of the waiting room starts crying softly, and Kurt clears his throat, trying to think of something to say to break the uncomfortable quietness, to come up with something that could keep his mind occupied until they learn more about Blaine's state.

"This isn't his first time, you know," Sam says suddenly.

Kurt turns to look at him, tilting his head in confusion. "First time what?"

"First time he's been injured in the line of duty," Sam explains, smoothing his hands over his thighs. "I mean, of course it's hard every time and it'd be better if he hadn't even ended up here, but I'm sure Blaine will be fine." He pauses and looks at Kurt. "He's going to be fine, Kurt."

Kurt nods, not really knowing how to answer that without his voice breaking halfway through. "Has anyone called Blaine's parents? Or his brother?" he asks instead. He doesn't know much about Blaine's family, but he knows that if he was the one who had been shot his dad would want to know about it.

Tina leans back in her chair and pushes her hair away from her eyes. "He probably has his parents listed as his emergency contacts. And I don't even know his brother's name. He always just calls him 'my brother' when he mentions him," she points out.

"Hey, true. I hadn't even realized that before." Sam furrows his brows. "Do you know his brother's name, Kurt?"

Kurt blinks, suddenly realizing exactly how little he knows about Blaine's family. "Oh. I don't, actually. But I..." He stops, straightening in his seat when he sees a nurse approaching the waiting room.

"Anyone here for Mr. Anderson?" the nurse asks, looking around the room.

They all stand up at the same time, but Kurt is still the first one to cross the room to the nurse. "How is he?" he rushes to ask, feeling the familiar tremors running up his arms once again.

The nurse tilts her head at him, smiling kindly. "Are you family?"

Kurt opens his mouth to say something, already considering conning the nurse if that's what it takes to find out how Blaine is, but then Sam and Tina step up next to him, showing their badges to the nurse.

"We're from the FBI," Tina explains. "Agent Anderson is our boss. How is he?"

"Oh, right!" The nurse glances down at the clipboard in her hands, suddenly looking a little flustered. Kurt notices that her name tag has the word 'trainee' written next to her name. "Well, um..." she continues, her eyes flicking over the clipboard. "The bullet didn't luckily hit any of Mr. Anderson's internal organs or bones – it just went through skin and muscle right above his hipbone area, and we've taken the bullet out and stitched him up, so while it's obviously painful and looks quite bad, he... He should be fine." She looks back up, giving them all another smile. "He does need a lot of rest, though, and he should be careful with his movements until the wound has started to heal properly. We'll keep him here at least for the rest of today and maybe even most of tomorrow to make sure everything's fine, but I'm sure he'll make a full recovery."

Kurt lets his shoulders relax, pushing his hands into his pockets to keep them from shaking too much from relief, or to keep everyone else from seeing how much they are actually shaking. Blaine is fine. He's going to be fine, just like Sam said, and it feels like Kurt's heart finally drops back down where it belongs, its beat finally starting to slow down to a normal rhythm.

"Can we see him?" Sam asks.

The nurse puts the clipboard under her arm. "Well, we've given him some strong painkillers, so he might be a bit out of it... But sure, you can go see him. I can take you there right now, if you'd like to."

Kurt forces himself to take a step back. He wants to go see Blaine desperately, but he also knows that the relationship between him and Blaine hasn't been exactly close for the last couple of days. He's the one who messed up, panicked and reverted back to his old ways right in front of Blaine, making him smile that god-awful polite smile that makes Kurt's insides twist every time just because he knows that it's not Blaine's real smile.

It's his own fault, and he will fix it, has to fix it, as soon as Blaine's feeling better. When Kurt makes a mistake he will do everything he can to fix it, and if this hospital trip has brought about something positive, it's that he finally realized how badly he needs to fix this. He can't even imagine his life without Blaine anymore. He doesn't want to imagine it. That's how far gone he is, that's how big a part Blaine has started to play in his life, and he knows now that he was telling the honest truth when he told Santana how he feels about Blaine.

But he hasn't fixed it yet, so he assumes that Sam and Tina will be the ones to go see Blaine first. They are Blaine's best friends and colleagues, and with this mess between Kurt and Blaine right now Kurt doesn't feel like he has any right to butt in on that. He already forced himself into the ambulance – he won't force himself into Blaine's hospital room, no matter how badly he wants to go, no matter how much his hands are shaking.

There's a hand on his back, though, pushing him forward, and when he looks over his shoulder Tina gives him another nudge, a long-suffering expression on her face.

"Oh my god, go," she urges with a roll of her eyes. "Sam and I can wait. I'm sure Blaine wants to see you more than he wants to see either one of us."

Kurt blinks, confused. "I..."

"I need to call the office anyway," Sam adds and gestures for Kurt to follow the nurse. "Tell him we'll come see him a little later, okay?"

Kurt swallows, a sudden sense of gratitude washing over him. He doesn't know what to say, so he just nods before following the nurse down the corridor. He doesn't like hospitals, but he has spent enough time in them during his lifetime and planned enough escape routes to easily memorize the way to Blaine's room, just to calm his nerves, and soon the nurse stops in front of a door and pushes it open a little.

"Don't worry if he falls asleep or talks gibberish," she mentions. "It's just a side-effect of the drugs. And if he complains about pain, let us know. I'll be at the nurses' station down this corridor."

Kurt nods his thanks again, not trusting his voice, and slips inside the room. Blaine is lying on a bed, covered with a light hospital blanket, his eyes closed and his hair a dark contrast against the general whiteness of the room. Kurt still remembers from his childhood and high school years how small and helpless people usually look in hospital beds, and that's true for Blaine as well. It's almost hard to reconcile the man in front of him now with the Blaine he's used to seeing, the one who leads his own team and solves crimes and somehow still manages to look so kind, so understanding that it sometimes just breaks Kurt's heart.

Blaine seems to be asleep, but when Kurt drags a chair closer to the bed and sits down on it he stirs, eyelids slowly fluttering open. His eyes are a little hazy and confused, flicking around the room for a while until they find Kurt's face and settle on him.

Blaine licks his lips, and when his hand twitches on the bed, Kurt can't help but reach for it, squeezing it like he did in the ambulance. It's as if he has to touch Blaine, has to make sure that he's real and alright and here. Kurt has never been a big fan of casual touches, but seeing Blaine get shot has clearly altered his sentiments.

"Hi," Blaine says in a low voice, the corners of his lips twitching up. "You're here again."

Kurt lets out a small laugh, and his hands suddenly feel a lot steadier than they did in the waiting room. "Yeah, I'm afraid you're stuck with me for the next four years. At least."

Blaine frowns, obviously not understanding the reference to Kurt's deal in his current state of mind, but then his forehead smoothes down again. "Is Perry with you?" he asks, absent-mindedly tugging at Kurt's hand.

"Oh." Kurt blinks. "I'm sorry, Blaine, but she's not. I can call Ms. Avninder as soon as possible though, okay? I'm sure she'd love to take care of her."

"She's a real sweetheart," Blaine sighs sleepily, and Kurt smiles. "Have I ever told you how I got her? Perry, I mean?"

Kurt resists the urge to reach out and run his other hand through Blaine's curls. "I don't think you have."

"Ms. Avninder was actually the one who found her," Blaine says, his gaze moving to the ceiling, eyelids blinking sluggishly. "She... I think she found her somewhere, I can't really remember where, but... Someone had abandoned her – this adorable little Labrador puppy who had the softest fur ever and the kindest eyes I have ever seen, and some idiot had abandoned her like she was nothing."

Blaine's forehead creases over again, and Kurt squeezes his hand, thinking about the dog he has grown to adore. "I can't believe someone would abandon her. That's awful," he mutters.

"Yeah," Blaine exhales. "Ms. Avninder would have kept her herself, but she's... Her son is really allergic, so she couldn't, and I came home from work one day to find her playing with a puppy outside our house, looking kind of sad, and when I asked her what was wrong she told me everything and I... I immediately said I'd take the puppy." He chuckles in a low voice. "I don't even know why I said it, because with my job and the hours I spend at the office getting a pet wasn't exactly the wisest decision, but... I took one look at her and I knew she was my dog. Ms. Avninder hugged me so tightly I could barely breathe, and she promised to take care of Perry whenever I had to work late, so..."

"So it all worked out for the best," Kurt finishes for him, stroking his thumb over Blaine's knuckles. "And then you named her after Katy Perry," he adds teasingly.

Blaine turns to look at Kurt and grins. "You figured that out? No one's ever figured that out before."

Kurt laughs. "I figured it out. It wasn't even that hard."

Blaine's smile widens, but then he blinks his eyes, like he just remembered something. "Wait. Did we catch the criminal?"

"Yep, and her list of charges is quite long," Kurt says, scooting his chair closer to the bed. "I'm not exactly happy that we had to add shooting a federal agent on that list because that's why you ended up here, but..."

Blaine scrunches up his nose, glancing down at his body. "She wasn't actually that good of a shot after all. I think the doctor said the bullet didn't even do that much damage."

Kurt lets out an incredulous laugh. "Oh my god, Blaine, you can't joke about something like this."

"Well it's true." Blaine yawns, his shoulders doing a small movement that looks almost like a shrug. "No one else got hurt?" he asks, his voice laced with sudden worry.

"No, everyone else is fine," Kurt assures and pats his hand. "Sam and Tina will come see you later, but you can go back to sleep if you want to."

Blaine's eyelids slip halfway closed, but then he struggles to open them again, his hand holding Kurt's a little more tightly. "I feel like we should talk about... something?"

"Later," Kurt promises. "We'll talk about it later, and this time I'll keep my promises. Okay?"

Blaine nods. "'Kay." He closes his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips as his breathing slowly evens out.

"Blaine?" Kurt asks in a low voice after a moment, making sure he actually did fall asleep.

There's no answer, and Kurt bites his lip, leaning even closer to the bed. Blaine's eyelashes are fanned out over his cheeks, and there's a tiny speck of dust or lint near his nose. Kurt gently frees his hand from Blaine's grip and reaches out to brush it away. His heart feels lighter and heavier at the same time, like he's feeling too many things all at once and somehow still enjoying it, almost having to restrain himself from laughing out loud. Blaine is alright, and they will talk things out, and even if Kurt knows he won't tell Blaine everything, not yet, he can tell him something. Apparently he needs Blaine Anderson in his life more than he needs all those secrets and lies he has kept up for years.

His life is a mess and he's still trying to figure some things out, but it turns out Santana was wrong. He doesn't just like Blaine – he's well on his way to falling in love with him. Or maybe he has fallen already, and he just keeps tumbling deeper and deeper every time he sees Blaine, not even wanting to find his way back to the way things were before.

"I'm glad you're okay," he whispers, cupping Blaine's cheek in his hand and moving his thumb over the soft skin under his eye. The corner of Blaine's mouth twitches, as if he's smiling in his sleep. In a moment of courage Kurt leans down and lets his lips brush over Blaine's forehead, breathing in the faint scent that reminds him of Blaine's office and apartment, of early morning coffee and smiling Labradors, of second or third chances and the life he wants to have.

Kurt pulls away after a moment, but he keeps his hand on Blaine's cheek, just because. Then he remembers what they were talking about a few minutes ago, and a small snort makes its way past his lips.

"And I promise I'll make sure Perry is okay as well," he adds, even though Blaine can't hear him. He did say he would keep his promises this time.