Glancing left and right, Blaine lifted the soft length of thread from around his neck and slotted the tiny silver key into its lock, sliding the door quietly open, wincing at every slight squeak of the hinges. The night pressed in at the windows as he slid, silent as a liquid shadow, across the room and into the makeshift bed in the corner, merely a mattress pressed into the corner of the room, stacked with pillows and blankets. Pale arms encircled his waist like lengths of rope and eyes lit up the darkness like twin stars in the blackness.

"Darling, you didn't call ahead to say you were coming!" Kurt exclaimed in excitement, leaning in to press a kiss to the hollow of Blaine's neck. "I thought you were all having some big party for Santana, since she's finally returned from the family sabbatical in Iceland."

"I said I had a migraine, locked my bedroom door and shimmied down the drainpipe to cycle here and see you," Blaine explained, running his hand over Kurt's worryingly concave stomach. "Sweetheart, are you eating enough? Do you want me to bring you more supplies? I can do that, you know how much disposable income my family has, I'm barely even scratching the surface."

"Blaine, I'm fine, you don't need to worry about me so much," Kurt promised, brushing a stray curl behind Blaine's ear and leaning in to kiss him. As he broke away, he whispered, "All I really need is to know you can be here with me. You make all this hiding worth it." Blaine smiled at him, leaning into the gentle caresses of his hands as Kurt rolled carefully onto him, melding their mouths together. "I love you, Blaine."

"I love you too," Blaine breathed, and wrapped his arms tightly around Kurt's waist, their legs tangled together and chests undulating against each other's, desperate for that sweet taste of heaven that came so rarely. Kurt's hands slid over his skin through his clothes, wrinkling his shirt, and up into his hair, breaking it free of gel as Blaine shifted restlessly beneath him, returning his kisses with equal fervour.

"I'm almost out of lube," Kurt whispered against Blaine's lips, sounding so disappointed Blaine wanted to promise that it didn't matter. "So we can't...and I don't have condoms, and it's so hard to clean up the mess, so we shouldn't."

"I came prepared." Sitting up and breaking their kiss momentarily, Blaine groped across the dusty floor for the strap of his rucksack and tugged it closer, emptying out neatly folded clothes and deftly catching the bottle and box before they hit the floor. "You can keep it if you want, I can go shopping again any time."

"You are the best," Kurt murmured, eyes shining with mischief as his hands slid down Blaine's back to curve over his ass and match their hips, silencing Blaine's groan with his lips. Blaine moved beneath him with a smile held back by kisses, revelling in being allowed to do this, in the idea that they would probably spend the night like this, rolling around on the mattress, and fall asleep in each other's arms.

However, before those fantasies could come to life, they were interrupted by the obnoxious buzzing of Kurt's phone, and Blaine saw the momentary flash of panic across Kurt's eyes. "Leave it," he insisted. "Don't pick it up." He rolled off Blaine, straightening his clothing and getting to his feet. "I think you should go."

"But I just got here!" Blaine protested, reaching for Kurt's hand. Kurt tore away from his grip, wrapping his arms around himself, refusing to look at Blaine. "I was planning to stay the night so we could have some more time together. What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, okay!" Kurt snapped, temper flaring up hotly in his eyes. "You just need to go. Maybe I don't want to spend more time with you. Go to the party with the girls, but don't come back here. I don't need you here."

Confused, hurt, Blaine grabbed his bag from the floor and slung the strap over his shoulder, watching the set of Kurt's shoulders and the tensing in his back. "I love you," he said softly, reaching out to clasp his hand over Kurt's shoulder. He was shrugged off and Kurt just huffed out in reply, so he left with his stomach twisting into anxious knots, the key to the apartment bouncing against his chest, mimicking the beat of his heart as he glanced up one last time, hoping he hadn't done anything wrong.

His phone let out the cheerful chirp of a new text, and he grabbed eagerly for it, hoping that it would be Kurt, apologising for his outburst and inviting Blaine back up.

From: Number Withheld 21:34

Poor Blaine. Always second best to the past - K xo

Please don't make me do this. They're my friends, I don't want to drag up the past and use it against them. No one except me knows these secrets for a reason.

Really, you won't do this? Then I guess I'll be paying Anderson a visit, and it'll be goodnight to your little plaything.

Don't hurt Blaine. If you kill him, you'll have to kill me too.

Oh, believe me, I'm planning on it. If you'd like to extend your life, start dragging up the past. You know everything about those four. I want them running scared.

You're a fucking monster.

Dear me, do you give blowjobs with that mouth? Text, or I'll find a knife and the next thing you'll hear of your great love will be that he was found in bed with his throat slit. Don't even think about disobeying me.

Alright, but you have to stick to the deal. You won't hurt any of them, as long as I keep doing as you say?

My precious, why would I break the deal? Then you would go crying to the police and I'd be out of business. I give you my word that no harm shall come to so much as a hair on the heads of your friends as long as they keep their noses out of my business and you do as I say.

I'll do it.

Lounging languidly on her mat, legs stretched out in front of her, Santana glanced around the room. The class was filled with bored housewives, patting their hair and stretching out sunburnt legs self-consciously clad in baggy sweats, and a few girls around her age in little groups, giggling to each other and perfecting their make-up. She'd seen the guy running the class outside, and she didn't think he was anything special enough to warrant so much vanity for a yoga class.

Finally she met someone's eyes, and smiled at the blonde woman, slowly running her eyes up and down a gorgeous body clad in form-fitting clothes, her hair tied back and her eyes very bright as she smiled back. Just as Santana was about to go over and make a case for herself, the instructor walked in and the class went into a flutter of pouting and batting their eyelashes as he coached them through the poses.

When the class ended, Santana was gratified to find that most of the class lingered to flirt with the instructor and she could grab the first shower. The water flowed over her back and she allowed herself a daydream of some beautiful girl slipping through the curtain to join her.

Emerging from the steam, wrapping her robe around her damp body, Santana found she was no longer alone. The blonde woman was standing at the mirror brushing her hair, and she grinned at Santana in the mirror. "You look really sexy like that," she said brightly, and Santana smirked at her. "What's your name? I should know before I make out with you."

"Santana Lopez," Santana answered sweetly. "And who are you? Apart from a hot blonde I'm about to make out with until someone else comes in here."

"Brittany S. Pierce." Brittany sauntered closer, hips swaying, hair tumbling across her shoulders, and pressed her lips to Santana's without hesitation, sliding her against the wall, fingers tracing along the edges of her robe.

When Santana finally staggered out of the gym, lips swollen and cheeks flushed from kissing and touching and feeling, she felt her phone vibrating in her back pocket and reached for it, hoping it might be the gorgeous woman she had exchanged numbers with only moments ago.

From: Number Withheld 11:26

Making out with strangers in changing rooms? Mommy would be proud - K xo

"Oh my God, Q, you have to try these sunglasses on!" Rachel declared loudly, tossing them across the display into Quinn's hands. "I'm just going to go over there and take a look at the scarves, okay?" She gave Quinn a conspiratorial wink and floated off.

Sliding the sunglasses atop her head, Quinn sauntered over to the racks of dresses on sale, bypassing the babydoll dresses and suppressing a shudder at the memories the floral fabric conjured up. Peering between a hideously ugly brown dress and one that might be passable in blue and white pinstripes, she caught sight of a familiar blonde-streaked head and ducked through the racks, calling, "Tina!"

Tina turned around, a pretty white dress that Quinn cast an appreciative eye over in her hand, and smiled tightly at her. "I guess I should've expected Quinn Fabray, queen bee, to be out shopping on this lovely day," she observed in a saccharine tone.

"I would never have guessed Tina Cohen-Chang had time to shop between the internship at the mayor's office and redesigning the barn into a loft and all those singing and dancing lessons," Quinn said, seeing the barely-disguised pride in Tina's eyes. "Did you...um, did you see the paper today?"

"Yeah," Tina said softly, turning back to the dresses. "He's gone but he's everywhere."

Glancing up, Quinn saw Rachel waving frantically at her, and gave Tina a perfunctory, "See you at school," before she rushed off after her. Rachel linked her arm through Quinn's and they sauntered boldly out of the store. "I love that scarf," Quinn said mischievously, inclining her head down to the orange scarf draped around Rachel's neck.

"Cool sunglasses," she shot back, and they laughed as they waltzed out of the mall.

That same night, Quinn was sitting at the kitchen table sipping a glass of lemonade and flicking listlessly through a magazine when the doorbell shrilled out its alert and her mother got to her feet. Creeping into the hallway, Quinn saw her mother open the door to a curly-haired man in a police uniform, and felt her insides freeze as she hurried to her mother's side. "Judy Fabray?" the police officer asked, and Judy nodded. "I'm Officer Schuester of the Rosewood Police Department. Rosewood Mall has footage of your daughter shoplifting a pair of sunglasses today."

"There must be some kind of mistake," Judy said, and Quinn was about to protest when her phone rang. Turning away, she reached for it, wondering if it was Rachel in a similar situation.

From: Number Withheld 19:03

You naughty girl. I heard that prison food makes you fat - K xo

Stretching themselves out before PE, Tina leaned into Quinn's space to flash her a picture of Adam and Teagan. "He's cute," Quinn observed happily. "Are you after him?"

"He's engaged to my sister, you idiot," Tina hissed at her, ignoring the disloyal voice in her head that demanded she let Quinn know how much she already wanted her future brother-in-law. The text she'd deleted surfaced disloyally in her mind and she had to shake her head to get rid of it.

From: Number Withheld 17:12

Always wanting your sister's boyfriends. Just remember, if you kiss I'll tell - K xo

Every girl in the room quite suddenly went into an orgy of fixing their hair and discreetly checking for smudged make-up as Blaine wandered into the room. Quinn cast them all a disparaging look, but immediately started tugging at her clothes and fluffing her hair as a blonde boy followed him. "My God, who is that?"

"Sam Evans, his family just moved into the old Hummel family home," Tina answered, examining her nails and barely sparing the new boy a perfunctory glance. "Everyone suddenly has a crush on him. Rumour has it he left a girlfriend behind when he moved, though, so no one has much of a chance."

"Well, I am going to do my best to get rid of any long-distance girlfriend," Quinn declared, flashing Sam a wicked smile and wiggling her fingers at him in a wave. "Do I look hot? No, wait, no point in asking you. Santana! Do I look hot?"

Tina rolled her eyes extravagantly as Blaine as he joined them, bringing Sam with him. Tina could see the starstruck look in Blaine's eyes, and wanted to reach out and hug him and tell him he needed to stop denying himself love by falling for unattainable straight boys. She'd known he was gay since they'd all turned thirteen, and had been increasingly surprised with every year Blaine stayed in the closet, but she would never mention that she knew to his face. There was no way she wanted to force him out of the closet. "Good morning," he said politely, leaning close to Tina and wrapping an arm around her waist. "Ladies, let me introduce you to Sam Evans. He just moved into the old Hummel-Hudson house since Burt and Carole moved to somewhere smaller. He's just been telling me about his parents' plans to change the garden."

"Well, really it's my brother and sister's ideas, they're seven year old twins and aren't really a fan of the flowers and benches and floodlights, they don't get how beautiful it is," Sam said with a shrug. "Blaine never told me he was friends with so many hot girls. Can I have an introduction and maybe your numbers?"

Quinn didn't miss a beat before she leaned forward, giving Sam the full benefit of her cleavage, and slid her phone out of her pocket, handing it over. "I'm Quinn Fabray," she said smoothly. "Just put your number in and I'll send you mine later."

Tina didn't miss the way Blaine tensed as Sam's eyes flickered appreciatively over Quinn's body, and the long silence was broken by his phone buzzing. Observing the way he shielded the screen with his hand as he checked the text and filing it away to consider later, she saw the panic on his face, the colour draining momentarily from his cheeks before he composed himself and plastered on a smile as Santana coolly shot down Sam's flirting. Something else to think about.

On top of the way Santana froze, wide-eyed, when their blonde PE teacher walked in and the half of the room that hadn't started showing off their assets when Sam walked in sat up straight and puffed out their chests.

Glancing out of the window a few nights later, nudging his phone as if that would make it buzz with a new text message from Kurt, Blaine saw a collection of emergency vehicles clustered around Sam's driveway. He'd heard the sirens rushing past, but he'd assumed they would be headed around the corner for the elderly couple, or that the corner shop had been robbed. He rushed out down the stairs and out into the freezing night.

"Sam!" he called, and his friend turned around with red-rimmed eyes from crying. "What's going on? Is it one of your family?"

"Blaine, they found your friend's body," Sam whispered, voice thick with lingering tears. "They were digging up part of the garden to change something and they found Kurt's body. It's all burnt and horrible but they're sure it's him. I'm so sorry."

Blaine almost collapsed in on himself, and it was only the solid steel of Quinn's eyes across the street that kept him upright. Kurt couldn't be dead. They'd identified him wrong. Kurt had been texting him just last night, talking about his plans for a future when he was out of his prison and he could publicly be with Blaine. Yet, Kurt hadn't responded to a single one of his six texts over the course of the evening. Maybe this was it. Kurt was dead.

He wrested himself from Sam's eyes, swimming with tears, and rushed across the street to join Quinn, wrapping his arms closely around himself. Santana emerged from the shadows to join them, and Tina's familiar silver car beetled to a halt and she rushed over to them. "What happened?" she asked as she joined them.

"They found a body in the back garden of the old Hudmel house," Quinn said softly, squeezing Blaine's shoulder gently. "It's almost certainly Kurt's. He's dead."

"I'm not so sure," Blaine mumbled, refusing to believe it. Kurt couldn't possibly be dead, not with all his bright blazing talent and his love of life and the force with which Blaine loved him, all of it had to keep him hanging on a moment longer.

He looked up, eyes swimming with tears, to find the three girls all staring at him. "I'm not the only one who's been getting texts from K, am I?" Santana asked, and they all glanced at each other.

The night was shattered by their phones all ringing at once, chirps and beeps and buzzes, and Blaine found his own fear reflected in his friends' faces as they all reached for their phones.

From: Number Withheld 16:48

I'm still here, bitches. And I know everything - K xo