"I have a plan." Kurt whispered in the morning. Blaine was lying in his bed, tucked into his side.

"Hmmm?"

Blaine felt for the vibrations of Kurt's firm chest instead of listening to his words. "You have to call the police."

"What?" Blaine mumbled, still a little sleepy.

"Turn us in, Santana and I."

Now the small boy was wide awake, still in his cropped jeans and striped shirt. "What? No!" Kurt shushed him. "No, you'll go to jail." He whispered.

Kurt shook his head, pulling the frantic boy back to his side. "He will go to jail." He explained.

"I can't loose you again, Kurt."

"You won't."

"You'll be arrested."

"Trust me." Kurt lined his blue eyes up with Blaine's hazel eyes. "I have a plan. Santana and I will be fine, so long as we catch Him."

"Who?" Blaine asked.

"Him." Kurt deadpaned, shifting his eyes away from Blaine's.

The small boy tried to regain eye contact. "Who is "Him'? The guy that took Jeff and Nick?"

Kurt turned wild eyes to Blaine. Every word he spoke was fast and panicked. "Did He? Who took them? Like what'd the guy look like?"

Blaine shrugged. "I didn't see him."

"That's probably what happened this morning, why we are" leaving. Kurt didn't want to say the last part. He didn't want to admit it. But, it was true. They were leaving. Blaine found him and he was leaving. And, knowing Him, taking Jeff and a Nick with them. "Blaine, you have to get out of here. You have to go. Now."

"But, Kurt..." He protested.

"Go home and come back tonight, okay?"

"Okay."

"And bring the cops with you, okay?"

"Absolutely not."

"Blaine," Kurt pleaded. "It's the heroic thing to do."

"But I don't want to be a hero, I want to be with you." He whined.

Kurt didn't want to say goodbye to Blaine either, but he knew he had to. At least for now, until they could figure everything out. They'd both have to be the heroes if they wanted to come out of this mess together. "Even the best mysteries have to be solved."

"No."

"Blaine, I am not asking you. I am telling you. Go home and don't come back tonight unless you have the cops with you." Blaine hung his head at the chastising. "Now go." Kurt said. He climbed off the creaking mattress and slipped on his oxfords. His feet silently made it to the door, then he stopped, hand poised over the knob.

"You're eyes used to brighten when you smiled, not darken like they now do." Blaine spoke softly, barley loud enough for Kurt to hear. "You've changed. I still love you, but I don't know what's happened to you." Then he left, without another word, using the window he'd entered through and scaling down with his gravling hook.

It was almost midnight and Blaine sat in the Bat Cave, replaying his morning over and over in his head. He had on his Robin leotard and tights, but a polo shirt and bow tie over it. His pants and mask discarded on the floor near him. Morality vs love. Kurt's wisdom vs his own. Blaine and NYPD vs Batman and Robin. Blaine had been dwelling on that allday. He'd weighed in the pros and cons, sketching them out on his drawing board. Him is arrested and put behind bars in an esteemed system of justice, but Kurt and Santana could take partial blame. Kurt and Santana get off scotch free, but there's no way to assure Him won't rise up again. However, Blaine realized, the NYPD has no official charges against Him. If anyone were to go down, He would make sure it was Kurt and Santana, not Himself. That's when Blaine knew what he had to do.

It was dark and nearly silent and way too easy to get into. The front door had been unlocked. After Robin and Batman shimmed through the tiny window and crash landed in the tub, Sam right on top of Blaine, they'd discovered the simple alternative. The two snuck around the apartment, flashlights shining, looking for anything. And they certainly did find something. Two somethings. They first appeared as blobs or monsters, giving the heroes a fright. But as they approached, they realized it was people. At first, Blaine thought they were sitting, maybe it was Kurt and Santana waiting to be discovered. Upon further investigation, however, the bodies had faces. Jeff and Nick. They were out cold and strapped to wooden chairs with rope and duct tape. Blaine didn't want to say it, because if he was right, he didn't want to have the affirmative ringing in his ears.

"They have a pulse, they're alive." Batman reassured him. Blaine let out a long sigh of relief. "Heavily sedated, but alive. Leave them for now, we need to keep looking." Blaine nodded in agreement. But, every room and corner and nook was absolutely bare. No items, no people. Not even a little dust. "We're all clear." Batman announced. He switched off his flashlight and groped the wall until he hit a switch. "Not even power." He grumbled, turning the flash light back on.

Blaine shone his light on his partner, as he often did. Whenever he spoke to Sam, he had to see him clearly, to be sure he wasn't in this alone. Searches in the dark always spooked him. "Can we...are you bleeding?" Blaine asked, hurrying over to Sam.

Batman looked down at his hand. It was red, but neither he nor Blaine found any wounds on him. Sam turned his light to the wall, to see if maybe he could of pricked it on something without noticing. "Holy shit." He muttered. "I think I found the blood." Blaine looked to see what he was talking about. On the walls were big letters smeared in blood. The more they backed away, the more they saw. It completly covered the peeling wall paper.

"Is that French?" Robin asked.

Batman nodded, "And Spanish. But, I want to know whose blood it's written in."

"No," Robin shook his head, "it can't be blood. It would've been dripping if it was blood. And smeared blood is brown, not red." He took hold of Sam's hand to investigate. "Lipstick." He confirmed.

"Okay, we need to get pictures of the walls and start translating. I'm going to check the other rooms for any writing. You untie your friends." Sam said, he always got excited over the brow furrowing cases, "how could we've missed this? It was right in front of us!" He hurried into the next room.

Blaine was fearless enthusiastic, however. Kurt was gone. He told Blaine to come, knowing he wouldn't be there. With the flashlight in his mouth, Blaine freed first Nick, then Jeff and leaned the sagging bodies against the wall. They had lipstick writing on them too, which Blaine tried not to smear so he wouldn't ruin their evidence. He gave his friends a good look, only recognizing a few of the foreign phrases. But, three words on Jeff's forehead stood out. They were written on purple lipstick and enlighs. "peace offering -Cats". Blaine quirked his eyebrow and moved the light to Nick, "The beginning of a" it read. "Batman!" Sam came hurrying into the room. "Look at this."

After reading the words, Batman looked at his sidekick. "What have we gotten ourselves into?"

Kurt lay in the back of an unmarked cargo truck. A few moving boxes stood between him and Santana, as they rode in silence. His thoughts wandered above them hum of the swaying truck. He heard what Blaine had said, over and over in his mind. "I don't know what's happened to you." He'd said. Kurt knew. He knew exactly what happened. It was a tough first year in New York. He and Santana never could really get a break, taking up jobs at a local bar every night as soon as their classes ended, just to barley make their cut of the rent. Rachel, on the other half was thriving and loving every second of it. One night a man made Kurt an offer he couldn't refuse. A simple game with a million dollars on the line. Kurt, not the pool expert he'd thought himself to be, lost. When he couldn't scrounge up the money, he turned to Santana who cut a deal with the man. They'd do his biding until he felt the money was payed off. It meant missing work, missing school, ditching their plans. But breaking their deal meant being killed. The man, Him, offered them another deal, as the chores became more illegal and they became more high profile criminals. He would give them a place to hide and aliases to hide behind, once their deaths were faked. They'd work for him forever, but they'd be taken care of. At the time, it seemed like the only way.

Santana peered over the boxes at Kurt. He reached his hand out and she took it in her own, then lay back down. It'd been the two of them for awhile. They told each other everything, because they had no one else to tell it to at this point. She even told her about the previous morning with Blaine. She helped him execute his plan, every single detail of it. She also had to distract Him, while Kurt secured Jeff and Nick from where He had been holding them. Sometimes Santana had to do stuff with Him. He's lonely, unsurprisingly, and it's forced on her. Sometimes she's just taking one for the team. Kurt has a million reasons to be in debt to her. And he had time, because it was going to be the two of them for a while.