Blaine watches as Kurt sits down opposite him in the prison visiting room, the well-worn table feeling wider than it did the last time they were here. It's been a day since Kurt's arrest; one day of Tina looking at Blaine with an expression that screams 'I told you so', one day of Sam carefully patting Blaine's shoulder every now and then (and Blaine has no idea when Sam even noticed that physical comfort tends to work better for Blaine than simple words). It's been a day full of questions and explanations and either curious or judgmental looks, of interviews with his superiors, and Blaine is already feeling the strain in the corners of his mind, in the skin that feels too tight over him. Kurt is – was? Is. – his responsibility, and now it seems like trusting a known con-man might cost him the very job that allowed him to trust Kurt in the first place, if his superiors decide that the theft is in theory Blaine's fault as well.

Kurt is wearing the dull orange jumpsuit once again, and his hair looks a little flatter than it did the last time Blaine saw him, probably because there isn't exactly that good a supply of hair products in prison. The bangs hang heavily over Kurt's forehead, but his posture is still as graceful as always, and when he lifts his head to meet Blaine's eyes there are still so many emotions in his gaze, just like there were one day ago, from betrayal to desperation to confusion to irritation, and Blaine instinctively leans back, trying to keep his own head together at least for a moment.

"Blaine..." Kurt starts.

Blaine shakes his head, his thoughts colliding against each other. "I..." He stops, sighs and then pinches the bridge of his nose. "I just need to ask you something, Kurt, and I need you to be honest."

"I haven't lied to you since I took your deal," Kurt counters and crosses his arms over his chest.

Blaine looks up and lets his hand fall back on the table. "Kurt. You basically lie for a living," he points out with a sad smile, glancing around the room as if to remind Kurt where they are right now.

"But I haven't lied to you, Blaine," Kurt insists, leaning over the table. "Not since the last time we were here and you gave me this chance. I may have avoided certain topics or let you draw certain conclusions, but I haven't outright lied to you. I wouldn't."

"So for example all the times you've told me that you're fine have been true?" Blaine asks, ignoring the way his heart skips a beat because of the conviction in Kurt's voice. "Even that time you saw some blood on a crime scene for the first time and looked like you were about to throw up?" he adds with a wry smile.

Kurt sniffs, lifting his chin a little in defiance. "I'm always fine. It's my constant state of being. And in my defense, that was a lot of blood for a white collar crime."

Blaine gives out a soft laugh and ducks his head for a moment. "Alright," he concedes as he lifts his head again. He takes a deep breath and looks into Kurt's eyes. "Did you take the sculpture?"

"I didn't." Kurt sobers immediately. "Blaine, you have to believe me. I didn't take it. Why would I risk..." He trails off, swallowing roughly. "I didn't steal it," he finishes in a quiet voice.

Blaine is silent for a long while, searching Kurt's face. It's blissfully quiet in the visiting room and inside Blaine's head as well, the doubts and scolding words silenced for the first time since he watched Sam escort Kurt out of the FBI building a day ago. It's like a blank slate, everything wiped clean, at least until Blaine takes a deep breath, blinks his eyes for a few times and meets Kurt's expecting eyes.

"I believe you," Blaine says in a low voice. He does. He can only see honesty written all over Kurt's face, and that gives him enough strength to give in to his doubts.

Kurt leans back in surprise, and the reaction makes something inside Blaine break, even though he can understand why Kurt is surprised and why he deserves it.

"You do?" Kurt asks, incredulous.

Blaine shrugs, trying to make sense of his thoughts and understand why he trusts Kurt's word so much. "I didn't know what to think at first, but I have to admit that it just didn't make sense. You've never left fingerprints like that before. You're not that careless."

"So you weren't sure if I was guilty but you still put me back in the orange jumpsuit, even if all you had to do to believe me was to ask me face to face if I took that sculpture?" Kurt scoffs and looks away, the hurt evident in his voice. "Wow."

"Kurt, come on." Blaine runs his hand through his hair, messing up the gel and not even caring about it. "What else was I supposed to do? We had your fingerprints on a crime scene, and the terms of your deal are pretty strict about anything like that. If I hadn't..." He pauses, gesturing with his hands and trying to find the right words. "I just needed some time to think, because when Sam brought me those results I really didn't know what to think. I wanted to believe that you wouldn't steal anything, but you've also been acting weird for weeks and –"

Kurt's eyes snap back to Blaine. "You noticed that?" he asks, his eyes wide and startlingly blue.

Blaine frowns. "Of course I did." He leans his arms against the table, suppressing the urge to reach out and take Kurt's hand. "I noticed it, and when I saw those fingerprint results I couldn't help but think that you acting weird was about some scheme you were going to pull and..."

Kurt shakes his head. "No. No, it was..." He hesitates. "It was personal."

"Personal?" Blaine repeats.

"Yes." Kurt swallows. "I didn't think you would notice."

Blaine sighs, and this time he does reach out over the table and gives Kurt's hand a brief squeeze. "Kurt," he pleads. "I know I messed up, and I'm sorry for putting you back in prison like this, but..." He tilts his head until he can see Kurt's downcast eyes. "But if you want our deal to work, you have to let me in as well, at least a little, at some point. Or otherwise we'll just keep misunderstanding each other, even without any lies, and we'll end up back here a lot sooner than either one of us wants to."

Kurt lifts his head. "I know. I'm... working on it."

Blaine squeezes Kurt's hand again and then leans back, his fingers instantly missing Kurt's soft skin. "Okay," he says, trying to center himself again. "Okay. Do you have any idea who could've framed you? Any of the names associated with this case sound familiar or anything like that?"

Kurt puts his own hands in his lap and shakes his head. "No, nothing. I managed to contact a few of my old acquaintances yesterday, but they had no idea either."

Blaine opens his mouth and then closes it. "Acquaintances?" he asks.

"One or two contacts from my previous life." Kurt shrugs with a small smile. "Emphasis on the word previous. I just asked them if they knew if someone was trying to complicate my life."

Blaine can't help but grin. "Okay, I can understand why you did that." Especially since I'm the one who almost completely broke your trust yesterday when I just sent you back to prison without asking you anything first, he adds mentally and frowns down at the table. "I'll... I'll find out who framed you, Kurt. We're going to get you out of here and back to your new life."

Kurt grins, the old Kurt shining through the orange jumpsuit and the harsh prison lights. "Please do. My hair and skin aren't that fond of prison."

"They'll get some fresh New York City air soon," Blaine jokes. He pauses, hesitating for a moment, but his heart is telling him to say the next words, to show that he's sorry for ever doubting Kurt. "I promise," he adds.

The surprise on Kurt's face that morphs into a gentle smile makes the thud of Blaine's heart feel less painful.

---

The conference room table is covered in evidence bags and photographs, in files and papers and the remnants of a take-away salad Blaine ate a few hours ago. The gel in his hair has already lost its hold after the several times he has run his fingers through his hair, and he can feel the beginning of a frustrated headache creeping around his temples.

The first thing he did when he came back to the office was commandeer the conference room for his own use and call the techs to ask them to test the fingerprint for any residue. If someone planted Kurt's fingerprint on the crime scene, they might have left a trace of themselves behind – but of course it's just Blaine's luck that the lab is busy right now, dealing with other, more urgent samples, and they couldn't even give him an estimate of when he might get the results back. He has also left countless messages to the Marshals, who are in charge of the tracking anklet, to find out what the blip in the tracking data was. Apparently they're busy as well.

Even though Blaine has gone through everything at least a dozen times, he has found practically nothing else. As far as anyone else is concerned, the case was closed by Kurt's arrest, and Blaine has had to pull a few strings to even get this far with his investigation. If those two leads – his only proper leads – don't pay out, he has no idea what he's going to do.

Blaine sighs and leans against the table, hanging his head. There must be something he hasn't realized, something that will be the key to this case, something that will point him in the right direction. He just needs to work even harder and find it. He can't give up, not this time.

There's a knock on the conference room door and Tina peeks her head in. "The probies are getting worried," she says as a greeting. "They think you're going to destroy this room in frustration or something."

Blaine massages to back of his head and looks up with a tired smile. "Nice to know they trust me that much."

"Oh, the highest bet was that it'll happen after twenty-four hours. That's dedication for you," Tina jokes and slips inside. She gives Blaine a concerned smile. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Just..." Blaine gestures at the table. "I'm missing something."

Tina walks closer and leans over the table, looking at the evidence. "You're completely sure that Kurt is innocent?" she asks.

Blaine sighs. "Tina, don't..."

"I know I'm the one who told you to be careful," Tina interrupts, "and I know I've been practically stopping myself from saying 'I told you so' since his arrest –"

"Your face already said it loud and clear," Blaine mutters, massaging his neck again.

"– but if you're sure he didn't do it, I trust you." Tina pulls out a chair and sits down on it. She takes the closest file on the table and opens it, looking at Blaine with her eyebrows raised. "And I want to help."

"Tina..." Blaine shakes his head. "Everything I'm doing is off the record. Everyone else thinks that Kurt did it, and I'm taking the responsibility for this investigation. If anything goes wrong, I'm not taking you down with me."

"I want to help," Tina repeats simply. She leans back on her chair, apparently with no intention of giving up.

Blaine stares at her for a while, but then his shoulders relax and he breathes out a soft "thank you", before slumping down in a chair of his own. The headache is still there, and when he stares at the evidence it almost starts to blur together, but he needs to keep going. He promised Kurt, and Blaine always tries his best to keep his promises. Especially when it comes to Kurt.

"Do we have anything else besides the fingerprint?" Tina asks, taking another file.

"Y-yeah. Yeah." Blaine blinks a few times to clear his thoughts and then gestures at the print-outs of the tracking anklet data. "There was a blip in the tracking anklet around the time of the robbery, and Kurt swears he was at home at that time."

Tina takes the print-outs and raises her eyebrows. "And you really think he's innocent?"

"Tina..."

"Sorry, sorry, I had to."

A moment later the door opens again, and this time Sam walks in, giving a small wave to them. "Have you found anything yet?" he asks.

Blaine rolls his eyes. "I thought I said I didn't want to be disturbed."

"Whatever, man, Tina's here as well." Sam sits down on the only empty corner of the table and looks around the room. "So. Have you found anything to get Kurt out of prison yet?"

Tina shakes her head. "Not yet, but we still haven't heard back from the lab or from the Marshals."

Blaine gives out a quiet laugh at Tina's use of 'we', but stops immediately when he suddenly hears a phone ring somewhere in the room. He jumps up and starts lifting evidence bags and files, ignoring Sam and Tina's curious looks, until he finally finds his phone under the take-away bag and answers it. "Agent Anderson."

"It's Matthews from the Marshal's office. You called us about a tracking anklet?" the woman on the other end of the line says.

Blaine straightens his back. "Yes. Yes, I did. Have you found out what the blip in the data was?"

There's the sound of papers being shuffled around. "We did. I'm not actually even sure why you felt the need to ask us about it, Agent Anderson, since it came from an IP address that's registered to the FBI."

Blaine blinks. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, the blip was just the result of someone using one of those laptops you have – the ones that are lying around your office and that anyone can use?"

Blaine gives an apologetic smile to Sam and Tina before turning his back on them. They do have several laptops like that just in the white collar office, for handling incriminating USB drives and for several other practical uses. The laptops tend to get circled around from office to office, and anyone working for the Bureau can use them with their own password. "What about them?" he asks.

"Well, like I said, the blip was caused by someone using one of those laptops to try to access the tracking data. They didn't get in, so the attempts resulted in a little blip in the data. That's all."

Blaine frowns. "They didn't get in? So it was a hacker?"

"Could be. Or maybe it was just someone from your team who didn't have the authorization to access the data trying to see where –" there's a pause, and the sound of a keyboard, "– where Mr. Kurt Hummel was at that moment. That is his tracker, correct?"

"Correct," Blaine answers absent-mindedly. He thinks about the security guard at the gallery, how the guard just let the culprit walk in after hours and wouldn't even properly identify him afterwards. It's all starting to shape up. "Could you send the results to Agent Blaine Anderson at the White Collar Division of the FBI?" he adds.

"Sure thing," the Marshal answers. "Did you need anything else?"

"No, that's all. Thank you."

"Just doing our job."

The line clicks dead, and Blaine lowers the phone from his ear, staring out of the conference room window. It's already getting dark outside, the clear blue sky darkening into the night, and the view from the 21st floor makes the streetlights down below look like small fires that line the busy streets. Blaine pockets his phone quietly and frowns. He thinks about Kurt, alone in an empty prison cell and listening to the nighttime noises of the other inmates, perhaps feeling as sleepless as Blaine does right now. It's going to be a long night, for both of them. He should probably call his neighbor at some point and ask her to go check up on Perry.

"So what did they say?" Sam breaks the silence.

Blaine startles, having momentarily forgotten that there were other people in the room as well. He turns around, and the second he sees Sam and Tina he knows that he has to continue this investigation alone. He can't risk his best agents (his best friends), not in something that can possibly turn messy.

"I..." he starts, hesitating for a moment before continuing. "I have to work on this alone. I'm sorry."

Sam jumps down from the table. "Blaine, come on..."

Blaine shakes his head. "No, it's... I have this hunch, and if I'm correct this can turn out to be a very confusing but important case. But if I'm wrong, if I've got it all wrong... I'm not going to put your jobs on the line. I won't."

Tina takes a step towards him. "So Kurt really is innocent?"

"He is." Blaine looks down at the table, frowning at the files for a moment, before he lifts his head again. "And you should go home. It's late."

"Blaine, dude," Sam says. "Let us help. Kurt's a part of our team."

"Go home," Blaine repeats. "I have to make sure first. I'll let you know when you can help me without risking too much."

Sam and Tina are obviously torn, but eventually they shuffle out of the conference room. Sam stomps down the stairs to the office area, the loud sound echoing through the space and clearly showing his irritation, whereas Tina only huffs and turns around at the door, frowning at Blaine.

"You should go home as well," she points out before she goes.

Blaine smiles. "I will."

When the door closes behind Tina, Blaine sits down and looks around the room. He pushes the take-away bag further away and then opens one of the files again.

---

It takes a few days, but in the end Blaine finds out that his hunch was right. Kurt was framed; in fact, the whole theft had been planned with the purpose of framing him, of putting Kurt back in prison for something he didn't do, no matter how much it looked like he had actually done it. The fingerprint was planted, like Blaine had suspected, and the blip in the tracking data was the result of someone trying to hack into the database. The security guard had also been convinced to keep quiet, and all the Kurt Hummel-esque elements of the crime were planned ahead – all of it to make it look like it was Kurt who took the sculpture.

When it was actually one of their own.

Agent Gilbert had been working as a probationary agent in the New York office for some months, both in the White Collar and in the Organized Crime Divisions since he hadn't yet decided what he was going to specialize in. From the first day he met him Blaine was sure that Gilbert would choose organized crime. White collar crimes seemed to bore him – he found them too neat, too upper-class, seeing in them the stereotype Blaine himself didn't see anymore and knew to be untrue. Gilbert was a good agent: hard-working and quick to come up with new ideas, even if his attitude could use some change. Blaine can remember writing those exact words in the report he gave to his superiors about Gilbert's progress a month ago.

Gilbert only worked with Kurt for a few times, but Blaine had noticed that he was one of those agents who didn't trust Kurt and seemed to see him as a necessary asset and nothing more. But Gilbert apparently also thought that Kurt had it too easy, that he should've paid more for his crimes, that getting a deal with the FBI after spending four years in prison wasn't enough for a known con-man. So he told the security guard that he was an agent working undercover and that the guard should under no circumstances let anyone know who he was. He stole the sculpture and planted Kurt's fingerprint on the glass, and then he took one of the office laptops and tried to access the tracking anklet database to make it look like Kurt had hacked his own anklet. Except the database was more secure than he had anticipated, and he didn't even get in.

Blaine is the one who interviews him, feeling the same headache that has been sneaking further into his mind ever since Kurt's arrest aching around his temples. He's the one who caught Gilbert, the one who connected all the dots, and even if there is an agent from the Office of Professional Responsibility present at the interview, Blaine gets to ask all the questions. Everyone seems to realize that this case is at least a little personal.

They've dealt with everything else and are already closing up when Blaine finally asks, "Why did you do it?"

Gilbert crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs. He doesn't seem to feel too bad for what he did; mostly he just seems annoyed about getting caught, even if he must have known from the start that he was doing something very risky. Something an FBI agent should never, ever do.

"I just wanted him to have what he deserves," Gilbert answers eventually.

Blaine feels a little sick, swallowing against the pile in his throat. "But you're an FBI agent."

Gilbert looks at Blaine. "That's exactly why I did it."

---

The paperwork for Kurt's release takes a while to go through, so even if Blaine wants to take his car and drive to the prison to bring Kurt away from those orange jumpsuits as soon as possible, he can't. Gilbert has already been taken away, Blaine's superiors have apologized to him for not trusting his judgement more, and the office has turned into an ocean of gossip and rumors. Everyone seems to be a little confused, walking on eggshells around each other, and it probably won't stop for a while. Agents or cops committing crimes or framing someone for them is always a huge deal, especially when it happens in the relatively calm White Collar Division. Blaine knows the higher-ups are already trying to figure out how a probationary agent could have committed a crime so easily, and the case is going to follow Blaine himself for a long time.

Blaine sits in his office and rolls his shoulders, trying to get rid of the ache that has settled into his muscles after too many hours spent hunched over his computer and case files. His boss, the only one who had agreed to Blaine's suggestion about Kurt's deal without any persuasion all those weeks ago, just left his office, and Blaine is still trying to make sense of his words.

"You did a good job, Blaine. I think we should start trusting your hunches a bit more when it comes to Hummel," he had said with an enigmatic smile. Blaine knows that he is the resident Kurt Hummel expert, but he has no idea what he's supposed to make of that smile on Peterson's face.

Blaine stops the movement of his shoulders and stares at his desk. Stupid paperwork. He had called the prison to let Kurt know he'd be getting free soon, but the bureaucracy works too slowly for his liking.

"Dude, what did Peterson say?" Sam rushes into his office, with Tina on his heels. "He was here for a really short time."

Blaine looks up and blinks. "Oh, he just told me that I did a good job. That's all."

Tina brushes a lock of hair behind her ear and sighs, her shoulders slumping. "Well, it's good to know that he's on your side."

Sam closes the door and furrows his brows at Tina just as Blaine asks, "What do you mean?"

"Well..." Tina hesitates. "You know how much I like office gossip?"

"Yes?" Blaine prompts. Tina follows office gossip more religiously than Blaine watches the Buckeyes's games, and neither one is exactly a secret to anyone.

"Gilbert's not the only one who thinks that Kurt didn't get what he deserves," Tina says, glancing at the closed door. "I know that I haven't been his biggest supporter, but I do think that he helps us close cases and I'm glad he's here instead of plotting another escape in prison. But I've heard some other people..." She stops, biting her lip, before she rushes out the next words. "Remember when I asked you to be careful? I wasn't just asking for you to be careful with Kurt, I was also asking for you to not give them too much ammunition, and –"

"Tina, what on earth are you talking about?" Blaine asks, confused.

"There are some people at the Bureau who are really suspicious about Kurt," Tina continues, looking in Blaine's eyes, a clear sign that she's serious. "They think he's conning us all and that he would be better off in prison, and they..." She takes a deep breath. "They think he's conned you into this deal. Or even that you're... Um."

Sam's eyes widen. "Oh man, you mean – I heard that rumor as well."

Blaine looks from Sam to Tina, feeling even more like a fish out of water. "What rumor?"

Tina sighs. "Some people even think that you and Kurt are... having an affair, and that's the reason why you gave him this deal."

Blaine blinks. "W-what?"

"They think he's using you," Sam clarifies.

"He wouldn't use me!" Blaine argues vehemently and gets up from his chair. "Just like I wouldn't use him for something like that either." He clenches his fists, feeling the headache coming back in full force. "How can they even... Kurt is a good person – he's brilliant and kind, even if he's made some mistakes – and you're telling me that there are actually people in this office who think he's using me to... I don't know, as a get out of prison for free card?"

Tina shrugs, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "Well, yes. They're already suspicious about Kurt and now they've been watching the way you two interact, and they think that there's some sort of a scheme there. That he's conned you or that you've fallen for him or something."

Blaine throws his hands up in the air, exasperated. "But I don't even –"

Kurt smiling at him in the doorway, the slope of his mouth lighting up his whole face and his fingers scratching Perry's head as he tells Blaine about his morning routine; and Blaine thinks that it all feels so achingly familiar, like it's the way things are meant to be, like there's something more right in front of Blaine's eyes, waiting for him to notice it.

He stops short, his hands immediately falling down.

In that moment he realizes that at some point after meeting Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson has become very good at lying to himself.

"Exactly," Tina says softly. "I told you to be careful."