Sunday afternoon Kurt and Blaine were in their bedroom.  It was only 2 o'clock in the afternoon, but both boys were tired and had taken a short nap when they got home. Finn was back from his tryst with Rachel, but Burt and Carole were on some government junket to California to an offshore oil rig for the investigation. It was to be followed with a meeting with other senators on an environmental committee Burt was working with. They weren't due home for another week.

Kurt woke up to find the old recliner chair from the storage room in the middle of his bedroom, a fresh sheet covering the dusty upholstery. Beside the chair were two small tables, one with a tub – steam wafting up from it, and the other with some folded towels and bottles of Kurt's skin care products.

“Blaine? What's this?” he asked, blinking awake.

“A small surprise. Come, take off your shirt and sit in the chair,” Blaine smiled.

Kurt stood up, curious about what Blaine had thought up. He sat in the chair and Blaine dropped a fluffy towel around his shoulders, then pulled the lever to tilt the chair and place a hot, damp towel over each of Kurt's hands and one over his face. He reached to rub Kurt's neck for a few minutes before removing the face towel. Without a word, soothing music playing in the background, Blaine smoothed on the shaving cream and shaved Kurt's face with a razor, dipping it in hot water to clean it between swipes across his tender skin. Then he washed Kurt's face with a cucumber-citrus water, patting it dry gently before applying the first of the washes Kurt used every night.

Blaine continued to stroke Kurt's face, applying or removing each potion in the order he had seen Kurt do it. Kurt was in heaven, having Blaine's soft hands caressing his face, caring for him in a way Kurt had never imagined could be so sensual. It may have been just a simple thing, but it felt so erotic - and it meant the world to Kurt that Blaine had not only paid such close attention to know and understand which product went on and in which order – but that he had thought to do it at all.

Blaine was done with Kurt's face, ending with a sweet kiss to Kurt's cheek, and began to massage lotion into his hand – bringing it out from under the hot towel and rubbing it between his own hands, rubbing the lotion into each pore as he hummed along with the music, a beautiful smile on his face.

“Thank you, Blaine,” Kurt said, pulling him down on his lap and into an embrace and returning his chaste kiss. “You are the best.” Blaine smiled even more.

On Sunday in the early afternoon, two people were sitting in a booth at The Shanghai Tiger. They were dressed in business attire in spite of the fact that it was Sunday, and ate their food with little conversation. The man and woman were almost done, waiting for the bill when five young people entered the restaurant. They recognized one of them, he was hard to mistake because of the black leather jacket and mohawk. He was accompanied by a slim but beautiful Hispanic girl with a scowl on her face, a large girl with twinkling eyes that was holding hands with the mohawked boy, a tall boy with chestnut hair and fashionable clothes, and a small boy with blonde-streaked curly hair and nondescript jeans and a Pink Floyd t-shirt. They didn't think much about the five, and certainly wouldn't have said hello to the boy that cleaned their pool, until they heard the smaller curly-headed boy speak. They looked at each other and the man dialed his cell phone and spoke very quietly into it.

Kurt and Blaine had met Puck, Lauren, and Santana for an early lunch at their favorite Chinese restaurant, The Shanghai Tiger, and spent an hour chatting about the New Directions and school in general, then had gone to see a movie.

The pair of business people didn't want to draw attention to themselves, so they ordered more tea in quiet voices and waited at their table behind the screen until the five young people left. The man looked out the window in time to see a black sedan pull out to follow the Navigator that had just left the restaurant parking lot.

Monday was just of those bad days. A really bad day. For everyone. Teachers were grumpy, lockers refused to open, and homework was just too difficult. After AP French, Blaine had walked with Kurt to his next class, calculus. Kurt had been surprised that Blaine was doing so well in this class, considering his hiatus from school for three years, but Blaine explained that his brother, Cooper, had discovered his penchant for math at a young age and had taught him from his own college books when he took geometry and calculus.

Blaine had been on his way to French when Santana had gotten angry at him for accidentally calling her Saint Anna again. It was just done in jest, but Santana had been having a hard time with Brittney, so she was on edge anyway. Blaine was trying so hard not to break into tears as he remembered the scowl on her face as she refused to speak to him. Kurt had instinctively pulled Blaine into a hug and kissed his cheek in comfort. What he didn't know was that several jocks were walking around the corner and saw them.

It wasn't until after lunch that it happened. For once, Blaine was walking down the hall by himself going east and five jocks, letter jackets in full view, came down the hall walking west and holding large cups. Just as Blaine thought he was safely by, someone called his name and he turned – to get five ice cold slushies in the face. The only thing that went through Blaine's mind was Kurt's description of being slushied: “like being bitch-slapped by an iceberg”. Well, that was funny when Kurt said it, but in practice it wasn't funny at all. It was fucking painful.

Blaine wiped the sticky ice out of his eyes, and wondered what it was Kurt said to do if this happened. Oh, go to the last girl's bathroom in the end hall, then he could wash his face with nobody to bother him. He had an extra t-shirt in his backpack, so he scooted down the hall and around the corner, skidding into the little used bathroom. He was leaning over the sink, trying to put his head under the running water when he heard the sound. Of someone shoving a large metal object under the doorknob. He tried to tell himself that he was imagining it, but he walked slowly to the door, dragging each step as though going to the gallows. He put his hand on the door and pushed. But he knew already – it was jammed shut and not budging. He crumpled into a puddle of misery, so terrified that he could just whimper and pull his legs into his chest and pray for Kurt to find him.

Puck and Lauren were sitting in the back of the classroom in Environmental Science when the teacher cleared her throat and started class. The bell had rung, but Blaine wasn't in his chair. Puck looked at the empty chair, then at Lauren. She pulled out her cell and held it under the desk and texted Blaine, but no answer. She got up and left the room, not looking back as Puck was right behind her. The teacher didn't even bother to look away from her whiteboard.

After calling and getting nothing, Lauren concluded that either the phone was off or something had happened to it. She texted Kurt and Santana to meet in front of Blaine's locker. But that gained them nothing. They split up and began to walk the halls, looking for any trace of the boy. Lauren made a conference call to the others.

“I'm in the lower east hall and I found Blaine's cell. Smashed.” The others converged on her, a panic starting in Kurt's stomach. Puck had found a puddle of grape slushie melted on the floor near the hallway to the science classrooms.

“Does it have grape slushie on it?” Puck asked, but he already knew the answer. He texted Finn. The more eyes looking, the better.

They all went a different direction, Puck toward the gym to look , and Kurt headed out to the field. He knew Blaine would be frightened and that was making him crazy. They had always been so careful, why hadn't someone been watching Blaine? Well, no time for blaming right now. He had to find Blaine. He was a little apprehensive being alone on the field, it was a large place, far from the buildings and cover, but he had to see if Blaine was there. He ran to cover more ground, behind the sheds and things, then under the bleachers. He rounded a corner and jumped as he saw the person in front of him. He took a quick breath and turned to run, panic streaming through his veins.

Santana was walking down the last small hallway at the back of the school when she heard a whimper. There was a metal trashcan wedged under the doorknob. She texted the others and kicked the can out of the way, carefully opening the door to find Blaine on the floor, curled into a ball and whimpering. He didn't even blink an eye when she called his name softly, but she went to him, sitting on the floor and pulling his head into her lap. What was it Kurt did? Oh, yes. Santana began combing her fingers through Blaine's hair and saying soft things to try and comfort him. He calmed down a little and stopped sobbing, but he was still trembling and saying Kurt's name.

“It's okay, baby, I sent Kurt a text, he was out looking for you. He'll be here soon, Blaine, it will be okay, baby,” Santana murmured in Blaine's ear, trying to clam him by using words she had heard Kurt use. It was working a little, but not near enough. Finn arrived first, skidding around the corner.

“Is he okay?” Finn asked as Puck ran up, Lauren not far behind. “Where's Kurt?”

“I texted him, but he went out to the playing field, so it might take him a few minutes to get here.”

“Kurt?” Blaine's voice sounded just a shade this side of hysteria.

“He's coming, honey” Lauren said, getting out her cell to call Kurt, to see how far away he was and to let Blaine hear his voice.

Kurt's phone rang and rang.

Finn stepped over and picked up Blaine, holding his sticky body close so they could take him to the car and get him home. Puck and Lauren went to see what was holding Kurt up, walking over the field and back by the bleachers, Lauren tried to call him again and they heard the notes of Defying Gravity coming from under the bleachers. They found the cell near Kurt's car keys and a grocery list in his handwriting. It was obvious that there had been a struggle, dirt disturbed and blood in drops in a trail going towards the parking lot.

Puck grabbed Kurt's things and they headed to the parking lot to meet up with Finn, Santana and Blaine.

Puck got Blaine in Kurt's Navigator with Santana's help and decide to take him to Puck's house to try to explain to him what had happened. Blaine had a connection with Gramma Sofie, so they thought this would help. In the mean time, Finn and Lauren went back to the bleachers to call Lauren's uncle, a detective for the Lima Police, to meet them. They had an obligation to Blaine, but Kurt missing eclipsed that. As they waited, Finn tried to call Burt, but his phone was out of the range and he could only leave a message.

Puck pulled up to his house and carried Blaine in, going up the stairs to his room. They were going to have to clean him up, the slushie was dried and sticky all over his clothes, in his hair and soaked into his skin, dying it purple. Santana helped Puck get his clothes off and him into the shower, scrubbing his hair and putting some of Puck's old sweats on him. Blaine went along with whatever the two of them asked, just asking repeatedly for Kurt and silently crying.

Puck tucked him in his bed, Santana lying down beside him to hold him close and try to give him some type of comfort, but it was obvious that without Kurt, Blaine was absolutely lost. Being locked in that small room had unhinged him.

Puck heard keys in the lock and went down the stairs. Gramma Sofie was coming home from her weekly Mah-Jong game. On the one hand, he hated to tell his Gramma what happened, she had had enough crap in her life already. But on the other hand, he hoped with every fiber of his being that she could heal Blaine, or at the very least mend him enough that he could function again. He might never admit it, but it hurt his heart that Blaine was so broken. After rescuing Blaine, Puck had felt a sort of obligation him.

“Gramma..”

“Oh, Noah, what's happened? I can see it in your face, what is it?” Sophia asked.

“It's Blaine. He's up in my room with Santana. Can you come? He needs you and I can't do anything to help him. Oh, Gramma, please help,” Puck asked.

Sophia made her slow way up the stairs as Puck told her what had happened. He told her everything, holding her shoulders to try to support her as they went into his room. Santana got up from where she was sitting on the edge of the bed and moved a chair close for Sophia to sit.

“Do you need us to go?” she asked.

“No, honey, Blaine needs all the people who love him to be here.” she said as she took Blaine's hand and he gave her a tiny squeeze. That gave her some hope.

Kurt woke up, wrinkling his nose at the lingering smell of chloroform on his clothes. He had a large gash on his leg, apparently having fallen on a broken bottle in his struggles to get away. He was shivering - but not because the weather was cold. It was because he was lying on a dirty mattress under a filthy blanket. And he'd been there before.