Chapter 3

If anyone who didn't know Blaine looked at him after he got back to his cell, they wouldn't have noticed anything unusual. The same confident posture, the same faint slightly mocking smirk on his face.  What they wouldn't see was the little glint that appeared in his eyes, barely visible to average people. But it was there. It was there because inside, Blaine was ecstatic. He wouldn't do anything about that, not yet; he'd wait for the darkness to engulf the cells and to cover him completely. Only then he'd let it go, let the happiness overtake him, just for a little while. But not before then. Because in this world, showing your emotions to the others was a mistake, one that could cost you your life.

So Blaine waited.

He did what he'd always done during the day. Stare at the ceiling, eat, read. What else can you do in prison? Finally, when the night came, Blaine eagerly got up from the bed and walked to the little, barred window, and looked up to the tiny piece of starry sky he was able to see. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he'd be out there. A big, wolfish grin slowly appeared on his face. Blaine Anderson was coming back. He wasn't entirely sure how his life would look from now on, but it didn't bother him that much. For now, he had only one goal.

Do whatever it took to bring Sebastian Smythe down.

When the morning came, Blaine had been wide awake since the moment he opened his eyes. He wasn't exactly a morning person but today was different. He could feel the excitement building up in his chest, and he had to stop himself from counting the minutes until he would be picked up by the one and only Special Agent Kurt Hummel.

Blaine smirked devilishly at the thought of the FBI agent. When he asked who would pick him up, the short pause and the agent's curt reply were enough for Blaine to know that it would be none other than Kurt Hummel himself. Which meant that he'd be his supervising agent, which in turn meant they'd be living together. And Blaine simply couldn't wait to make Hummel's life a living hell.

Blaine didn't have to wait too long for the procedure of his release to begin. He didn't have a lot to take, so when the guard came to collect him he grabbed his notebooks and pencils, and that was basically it. He hoped that the personal things he had with him when he was captured, were still somewhere in the prison storage or wherever they kept this stuff. The guard led him to the small room where he was handed a pile of clothes. Oh, goodbye then, my lovely orange suit, Blaine thought happily and then noticed that those were his old clothes, the ones he was wearing on this fatal day, five years ago. He smiled slightly when he saw his old leather jacket, he really missed wearing it.

Just as he finished getting dressed, two men entered the room.

“Ready for the last of your accessories?” One of them asked, holding up the black piece of metal.

The forger nodded reluctantly and pulled up the jeans on his right leg, uncovering the ankle. The man bent down and quickly clasped the monitor. Blaine moved his foot experimentally. It felt… weird. It wasn't uncomfortable, but Blaine could feel the cold metal against his skin and the slight pressure of the device. It would take a while to get used to it.

Suddenly, the other man handed him a box. “There are your things you had with you on the day you were arrested.” He said. “No phone though, it's been confiscated by the FBI. And, of course, no gun.”

“Of course.” Blaine muttered, looking into the contents of the box. There wasn't much. Only the keys to his apartment, his wallet. With a relief he noticed the silver ring, lying on the bottom. He pulled it out and examined it carefully, it seemed unharmed. He placed it on his finger and put the other items in his pockets, and looked at the men expectantly.

They led him through the different halls until they reached the courtyard. They passed it quickly and soon reached the front prison door.

“Your ride is waiting outside.” One of the men said and nodded to the guard standing beside the door. Without a word, he opened the door.

Blaine threw one last short glance at the buildings behind them and then stepped outside, for the first time in five years. The door behind him closed quietly. Tentatively, he took a few steps forward. Before he had time to process the thought that he was finally free, he noticed the black car parked a few feet away. But it wasn't the car that made him stop in his tracks.

There, leaning against the car, was Kurt Hummel. The agent was typing something on his phone and hadn't noticed Blaine yet, so he used that moment to take a good look at the man. He was wearing tight, dark jeans which made his stretched legs look amazingly long, and the navy coat that perfectly accentuated his slim waist. His hair was flawlessly styled, the pale skin was almost glowing in the sun beams, and it all made Blaine remember the first thought that crossed his mind when he saw Kurt Hummel for the first time.

Damn, he's hot.

Had Hummel not been the damn FBI agent that put him in jail and the man Blaine hated almost as much as he hated Sebastian Smythe, he probably wouldn't have hesitated even for a second about taking him somewhere and having his way with him. Unfortunately, that was not an option. What a shame, to waste such a good fuck, Blaine thought with a slight frustration, but he quickly pushed that feeling away. It wouldn't do him any good. 

He crossed his arms and straightened his posture. “Are we going to go anytime soon or…?” He asked.

Kurt's head snapped up, and suddenly Blaine was faced with a piercing stare of the blue, cold eyes.

“You took your time.” The agent said in a bored tone, pocketing his phone.

“I'm sorry; I was busy picking the jewelry.” Blaine said mockingly, gesturing the ankle monitor. “Couldn't decide what to wear.”

“Well, it certainly fits you.” Kurt retorted snidely and pushed himself from where he was leaning against the car. ”Get in, we have a lot to do.” He said as he opened the door and sat behind the steering wheel.

“Bossy.” Blaine muttered and made his way to the passenger door. He slowly got inside, satisfied when he caught, with the corner of his eye, Kurt's fingers tapping impatiently on the steering wheel. “By the way, I'm gonna need your exact address. Oh, and your phone.”

“Excuse me?” Kurt asked, arching his eyebrow.

“I need my stuff. I have to call my friend and tell him to bring it to your place.” Blaine said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Your stuff?” Kurt asked incredulously. “What stuff? You just got out of prison, where did you…” He stopped abruptly. “We've never found your apartment.” He said slowly.

“And people think nothing can ever hide from you, the FBI, the brightest minds.” Blaine snorted. “But in reality you're just babes in the woods, unable to do anything right by your own.” He finished quietly, distain lacing his voice.

Kurt gritted his teeth and slowly breathed out through his nose. How was he supposed to survive living with this man without killing him; he had no idea.

“Are you done?” He asked, forcing himself to sound like he was already bored by the conversation. “And back to your request or I should rather say, your demand, you're not giving my address to your buddy. The last thing I need is another… suspicious, probably crime related individual to know my personal address.”

Blaine opened his mouth to reply, but Kurt wasn't quite done yet. “But, know my mercy, we can stop by your place and you can take your things.”

“If you think that I'm going to show you where I used to live, then you're either incredibly stupid or you think that I am incredibly stupid.” Blaine retorted. “You were right yesterday – I don't trust you. There's no way I'm taking you to my apartment.”

Kurt threw his hands up in exasperation. “You're ridiculous! Why do you have to treat everything as a conspiracy against you?! Guess what, Anderson, not everything revolves around you!”

Blaine watched Kurt in amusement as he breathed heavily after his angry outburst. “Are you done?” He mimicked Kurt's earlier question. “God, you're such a drama queen.” He chuckled, ignoring the fire that was literally blazing from Kurt's eyes. “Fine, let me be the first one to offer a compromise. You give me your phone, I call my friend, and we meet with him somewhere in public. How does that sound, roomie?” Blaine said, snickering slightly at the term.

Kurt closed his eyes. From the beginning he knew this wouldn't be easy. Both he and Anderson were as stubborn as a mule, but if he wanted to make this cooperation work, he had to find a way to compromise with the forger and this seemed like a good start. He handed Blaine his phone without a word and then his thoughts wandered back to the situation he had been put in. It was a nightmare, and it had been only what, 10 minutes?

Kurt groaned inwardly. All he wanted to do was to lie on his couch, maybe snuggle with Satine, and watch some trashy shows on his tv. God knows when I'll have a chance to do it, he thought bitterly. Faintly, he could hear Anderson making plans with a guy named Wes, and Kurt couldn't decide if he wanted the time to fly or to crawl. On the one hand, he wanted to drive around for hours, anything to postpone going to his apartment, and making it no longer his private, personal space. On the other hand, he wanted to get it over already, start working, find Smythe and get rid of Anderson as soon as possible. His internal struggle was interrupted by Blaine giving him his phone back.

“Let's go. I'll tell you where to drive.” He said while he fastened his seat belt. He laughed loudly when he saw the dubious look Kurt gave him. “Relax, pretty boy. I'm not going to lead you to some dark alley and murder you.”

“Don't call me that.” Kurt muttered, and started the engine.

After following Blaine's directions they ended up in a parking lot at the back of a supermarket, actually not that far from Kurt's place. When they arrived, there was already a silver car waiting for them. As they pulled up, an Asian man got out and smiled widely. When Kurt stopped the engine, he looked to Blaine and, for a second, he could see the small smile on his face and the way his eyes lit up a little. It lasted shorter than a blink of an eye and when Blaine turned to him, his expression was neutral and calculated, as always. At first, Kurt intended to go with him but after seeing that little change… “I'll wait for you in the car.” He said before he had time to change his mind.

He saw the mild surprise in Blaine's eyes, but then the forger shrugged and got out of the car. “As you wish, gorgeous.” Kurt's expression clouded at the name, but the door was shut closed before he had the time to snap.

Blaine made his way to the man waiting by the silver car and when he was sure that Hummel could only see his back, he smiled widely. He opened his arms and the man basically crashed him with the force he flew himself into him.

“It's good to see you, Wes.” He said, hugging the man tightly.

“I missed you, you know.” Wes mumbled in his shoulder. They parted and suddenly the Asian slapped him hard on the head. “You son of a bitch.” He added with a grin.

“Hey!” Blaine exclaimed. “What was that for?”

“For going to prison for five years, you bastard!” This time, Wes punched him in the arm.

“Okay, okay, stop hitting me!” Blaine shouted with a smile, raising his hands up. “You know it wasn't exactly my fault.”

“I know.” Wes said darkly. “I swear, if I ever see that motherfucker… He's going to wish he never met me.”

“Hold your horses, Wesley, at least for now.” Blaine said. “I guess I should tell you how I got out from jail, huh?”

Wes looked at him curiously. Seeing Blaine's hesitance, he frowned. “Blaine. Who's the guy in the car?”

Blaine looked down and sighed. “He's a fed.” He heard Wes gasp, but continued. “They offered me a deal. They want me to help them catch Sebastian in exchange for getting my sentence commuted.”

“That's… actually not that bad.” Wes said slowly. “And they let you out, just like that?”

“I'm wearing an ankle monitor.” Blaine said. “And they're making me live with this guy.” He added, gesturing at the car Kurt was waiting in.

After knowing Blaine for so many years, Wes didn't miss the hatred in his friend's voice and the steely look that flashed in his eyes. “Why do you hate him so much?” He asked, and seeing Blaine raising his eyebrow, he crossed his arms and smiled. “Come on, Blaine, I know all of your faces and tones. What did he do to you?”

“He's the one that put me behind bars.” Blaine said with a murderous expression. “Plus, he's a jerk with a stick up his ass.”

Wes had seen this look way to many times and it usually meant nothing good. He shook his head and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. “Don't do anything stupid, Blaine.” He warned. “It's your chance, don't blow it.”

Blaine put a hand on his heart. “Wesley, you wound me, you act like you don't know me at all!” He exclaimed in a fake surprise.

“I do know you, that's precisely why I'm worried.” Wes muttered.

Blaine laughed loudly and patted his friend's back. “Come on, give me my things.”

The two men walked to the car and Wes opened the trunk. “Your emergency bags, they're all here. You're taking everything?”

“Well, not the one with the weapons, that's for sure.” Blaine said as he went through the things in the trunk, hoping Hummel wouldn't choose that moment to walk over and check on them. He took out two big duffel bags and looked back to Wes. “Thank you, Wes.” He said sincerely.

“Anytime.” Wes said and stepped closer to Blaine to hug him. “Your babysitter seems to be getting impatient.” He said gesturing slightly to the car where Kurt was staring at them intently. “Please, please, don't get in too much trouble?” He whispered teasingly.

Blaine patted him on the back, pulled away and winked with a smirk. “I make no promises. I'll see you soon, Wes.”

With one last smile, he grabbed the bags and headed towards where the FBI agent was waiting for him. When Kurt saw him coming, he exited the car.

“I'll have to go through them.” He said when Blaine walked closer, gesturing to the bags. Blaine nodded wordlessly and put them inside the trunk. He left it open and leaned on the car, looking at Kurt expectantly. The agent rolled his eyes and bowed down to examine the bags. He searched them quickly, finding nothing but clothes and some art supplies, nothing special or dangerous. He closed the trunk. “Everything looks fine.” He said shortly and both men moved to the car door to get in the car. Kurt eyed Blaine briefly, but it didn't seem like the forger was going to say anything, so he started the engine and drove out of the parking lot, swiftly joining the traffic.

The ride was spent in silence and it didn't last even half as long as Kurt hoped it would. Too soon he was parking the car on the street next to the block he lived in; too soon it was time to go inside. Kurt got out of the car and quickly took a deep breath and turned around, only to find Blaine already pulling the bags from the opened trunk. When he was done, Kurt locked the car and started walking to the building entrance, Blaine following right behind him. He didn't offer his help with carrying the baggage, but Anderson seemed to be doing just fine. Kurt nodded to the doorman, making a mental note to come down later and inform him about the man that would temporarily live with him, therefore he would show up there very often. They took the elevator and when they stepped outside on the right floor, Kurt broke the silence.

“Are you allergic to cats?” He asked without looking at Blaine, too busy searching for the keys in his satchel. Please, say yes, it would be so much fun to watch you suffer.

“No?” Blaine said just as they stopped outside Kurt's apartment.

What a pity, Kurt thought as he opened the door. They entered the small hall and Kurt gestured on the door to the next room, indicating Blaine to go in. The agent himself leaned on the door frame and watched his new roommate look around somewhat curiously, when suddenly a loud “meow” echoed in the apartment and Satine appeared in the middle of the room, coming seemingly out of nowhere.

“Oh, who do we have here?” Blaine said quietly, taking a few steps in the direction of the cat.

Kurt smirked devilishly. Satine hated new people, anyone who tried to touch her without being around for at least a few weeks, usually ended up with multiple scratches on their hands, sometimes even face if they were persistent. But Anderson didn't really need to know that.

Meanwhile, Blaine crouched in front of Satine and slowly reached out his hand, stopping it right in front of her. Kurt waited for the inevitable attack, but to his great surprise (and yes, disappointment), after the moment of staring, instead of pouncing, Satine came closer, and hesitantly sniffed Blaine's hand. He watched her, still as a statue, and chuckled in amusement when the cat started purring and rubbing her head against his palm. He slowly lifted her up and got up from the floor, scratching slightly behind her ears.

“Hello there, beautiful.” He muttered lowly. “I guess I have your approval then?”

Kurt stared at the scene in front of him in astonishment. Blaine must have sensed him staring because, suddenly, he lifted his head and looked right back at Kurt. When he noticed his eyes widened in surprise, he raised his eyebrow derisively.

Kurt clenched his jaw. For a second, he forgot just how annoying Anderson's expressions and behavior were. “I see you and Satine are already acquainted.” He said, moving in the direction of the guest room.

“Satine? That's an interesting choice of name for a cat.” The forger said, still petting the delighted cat in his arms.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “It's from…”

“Moulin Rouge.” Blaine interrupted. Kurt turned his head abruptly, the surprise evident in his eyes. Blaine snorted at his expression. “There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Hummel.”

Kurt opened his mouth to say something, but then he changed his mind and simply gestured at the door to the guest room. “That's where you'll be staying.”

Blaine carefully put Satine down, grabbed his bags and crossed the living room to stand in the door of his, for the time being, room. Kurt was about to make up some excuse to leave him alone and get a moment for himself when he noticed that something wasn't right. Blaine's whole posture was stiff, his fists were clenched tightly at the bags' straps and he was staring intently at something in the room. Kurt moved closer and followed his line of sight. The object that seemed to drown the forger's attention was an old piano, the one that belonged to his mother and was put in the guest room because of the lack of space in the living room.

“Is it tuned?” Blaine asked quietly. Kurt looked at him for a moment, slightly confused by the sudden change in Blaine's demeanor, though really, he should have been used to that by now.

“Actually, yes, it is.” He replied slowly. He didn't miss something flashing through Blaine's eyes, another emotion he yet had to decipher. “I don't really have much time to use it though, it could use some practice so...” He finished the sentence with a wave of his hand in the direction of the piano. Blaine was still staring at the instrument so he backed out of the room. “I'll leave you for now then.”

He went to his bedroom and closed the door. He leaned against it and took a few deep breaths. He wasn't quite sure what was going on, Anderson's mood swings were more unpredictable than a pregnant woman's, but he would figure it out. The agent rubbed his temples tiredly and wanted nothing more than to drop himself on the bed to wallow in his misery when he realized that he was still wearing his coat. He sighed and exited his room and made his way to the hall. After hanging the coat, he walked back to the living room, noticing Satine lying in a sun spot. You little traitor, Kurt thought bitterly. He stood in the middle of the room, not sure what to do. Having a criminal in his apartment made him feel uneasy and he couldn't exactly act all relaxed like he used to when he was home. No, now he had to be in a full agent mode and have his guard up all the time. And the worst thing was that he had absolutely no idea what to expect.

He walked to the bookcase and looked at the photos sitting there. He took the one of his parents, taken on their wedding day. He smiled softly as he traced their smiling faces with his fingers. He sighed sadly and put the frame back on the shelf.

“I wish you were here.” Kurt whispered quietly.

Blaine couldn't explain what happened to him when he saw the piano. The sudden feeling of nostalgia and sadness caught him so off guard, and to be honest, he was glad, if not slightly surprised, that Hummel didn't push and simply left him alone.

After the agent closed the door behind him, Blaine quickly unpacked his things to the empty drawers and shelves, pushed the empty bags under the bed, and looked at the piano again. He would never admit it to anyone, but music used to be his dream. Even though his life took him in a slightly different direction, it had always been a big part of him. With a smile, he remembered his old piano, still waiting safely for him in his apartment. He took a step closer to the instrument, but something was stopping him. He shook his head and walked to the bed. He lied down, stared at the ceiling and kept thinking.

What are you afraid of?