They stay at the cabin for eleven days. Everyday is a spiral of happiness that keeps whirling higher, and by the end Blaine knows the inevitable fall back down will hurt. If only he and Kurt could stay there forever, spinning up until everything is just heaven on earth--

But they can’t. Burt calls them back, and it’s time for Blaine to testify. It means that Sebastian can be held accountable with more certainty, but it also means that Blaine will have to face the law himself.

He’ll be taken. He’ll be sold, if he’s lucky, or if he’s not, he’ll be charged with assault and attempted murder and with being a runaway slave. And slaves who are charged don’t go to a prison with three meals a day and private beds like the prison Sebastian will face. No, slaves who are charged go to special work camps and mines and farms to serve their sentences in chains, forced into hard labor--labor that is far harder than that of normal slaves--until they die from the strain.

Kurt begs him to run. He pleads and demands and cries and yells, but Blaine can’t just walk away from this. Sebastian could continue as he is, without Blaine’s testimony. Sebastian could simply blame Blaine for everything, and he might get a suspicious glance but it’s far easier to blame a slave who can’t be found than to hold a powerful, wealthy man accountable, especially when he has the ability to whisper dollar signs into appropriate ears. But if there’s no excuse, if Blaine can show unequivocally that Sebastian is guilty, even his money won’t be able to save him.

He has to go. For Kurt, for the other boys and girls like him that were stolen from their homes, for all the ones that are still safe in their beds that could someday catch a dealer’s attention. Blaine has to do this. It’s not just Sebastian that will be under scrutiny--this could change everything. The laws are wrong, but nobody pays attention to just how wrong. If the most influential dealer in the country is held accountable for his actions, if everything is revealed...things could change.

And maybe, one day, Blaine could be free. Really free.

So he goes.

Detective Lopez picks him up when they arrive back in Lima. He holds Kurt close one last time, and goes willingly, torn between letting himself lose the last memory of Kurt with tears on his face and keeping every last minute in his heart.

There’s a police station, and an interview room, and a camera. He’s told that he won’t appear in court personally, because he doesn’t have that right. He’s evidence, not a witness. He’s offered a glass of water, but only by Detective Lopez. Mostly, he waits.

Finally, an older man with a mustache and greying hair comes in, and asks him questions, the red light of the camera steadily burning at his peripherals. He tells everything--all the abuse, all the boys taken illegally, all the papers and the notes hidden away. They tell him they have the thumb drive, and all the evidence, and they make sure he knows that if he’s found to be lying, he’ll be given back to Sebastian to face whatever punishment he deems fit--that is, if Sebastian doesn’t press charges and let them take care of it. He agrees, and that’s it--he’s left there, locked in, alone.

He’s cold, and hungry, and tired, and bored. He fidgets and sighs and nothing changes, and there’s no clock to keep track of the time. He hopes Detective Lopez will come in and check on him, but she doesn’t, and neither does anyone else. By the end of the day, he’s surprised they didn’t just shove him in an evidence locker and be done with it.

Finally, the door opens.

“Come on,” an officer says, someone he hasn’t seen before. “You’re done here.”

“Where am I going?” Blaine asks warily, eyeing him as he stands from the table, his back cracking and his limbs stiff from being in the room so long.

The officer checks the file in his hand.

“Says here you’re part of an estate, so back to that, I’d guess,” he says. “I’m just taking you to the car.”

Blaine nods, and follows him out. His eyes prickle, and his mouth tenses and draws down, and it’s almost impossible not to cry. He’s tired and overwhelmed and all he can think is that he wouldn’t get to say goodbye to Kurt, or to the life they’d promised each other.

So he does it silently, with every step. 

Goodbye to the dancing 

step 

and the dinners 

step 

and the baths 

step 

and the cuddling 

step 

and the kissing 

step 

and making love 

step 

and the way Kurt’s hair flips just a bit at the ends when it’s messy 

step 

and how he blinks when he’s sleepy 

step 

and the way his lips twitch when he’s fighting a smile 

step 

and his skin 

step 

and his voice 

step 

and Kurt--

“Just a moment, please.”

Detective Lopez rushes forward, her heels clacking on the colorless tiles. Blaine turns back and she offers him a faint smile.

“I’ll take over from here,” she says to the officer, taking Blaine’s with one hand and holding out the other for the folder. “New information came in, new paperwork--I’ll need him just a little bit longer.”

She tugs him away, and he follows unsteadily, trying to catch up.

“What is--”

“Hush.”

Blaine snaps his mouth shut and just follows until they reach the front of the building, and a little room with a table surrounded by chairs. Inside, Burt sits easily in a chair while Kurt paces back and forth. Blaine’s heart shatters at the sight of him.

I can say goodbye--

“Blaine!” Kurt gasps, and he runs forward and throws himself into Blaine’s arms. Blaine catches him, and the dam is broken--tears rush from his eyes, and he sobs into Kurt’s neck, clutching tight, fingers bunching up Kurt’s shirt and pressing hard enough that it must hurt. But Kurt just holds him, murmuring soothingly and rocking back and forth.

“It’s okay,” Kurt says, his own voice thick with tears. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

“It--I--Kurt.” Blaine holds tighter, holds on. Maybe if he holds on hard enough, they won’t be able to pry him away, they’ll understand--he won’t survive this...

“I’m never saying goodbye to you,” Kurt promises. “Never.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Burt asks in the background, somewhere behind them. Blaine steels himself for the answer he knows is coming.

No, she’ll say, I’m afraid there’s not. It’s time to say goodbye.

“As a matter of fact, there is.”

His head shoots up, turning to stare at Detective Lopez. She’s smiling, holding up some paperwork. Blaine’s heart leaps, stuttering in his chest.

“What is that?” he demands. This isn’t funny, this is a cruel joke, she can’t say there’s something they can do when he knows--

“It’s a bill of sale,” Detective Lopez replies. She looks down at the papers with a tiny smirk. “I am now the proud owner of a slave, ID number 03219417, commonly called Blaine, from Farm 17 in Lima, Ohio, age 24, previously owned by Sebastian Smythe.”

“Wait, what?” Kurt blurts, still holding Blaine close. Blaine is grateful he asked the obvious question--he doesn’t feel capable of speaking, himself.

“Blaine, I just bought you,” she explains candidly, the smirk still present on her face. “For the altogether ridiculous sum of one dollar.”

“How?” Blaine asks, finally able to open his mouth. “I don’t understand.”

“I made a visit to Sebastian Smythe’s second home in Westerville this afternoon,” Detective Lopez says. “I heard he was there on a little vacation, apparently recovering from an injury. Naturally, with the case against him, I went to speak to him when the opportunity arose. We’re lucky he was there, because I was able to inform him that his presence would be needed to discuss the charges against him. Of course, the subject of his missing slave came up, and I explained the situation. I promised him that he’d be found guilty and said I’d like to buy you before you were charged or liquidated with the rest of his estate. I told him he might as well get something out of it, and I was prepared to offer him a decent sum as well as a word in the ear of the prosecution, but he cut me off. Had his clerk draw up this bill and demanded one dollar for your sale. I asked for the catch but it turns out there wasn’t one--for whatever reason, he let you go.”

She hands the paper to Blaine, who looks it over. It is legal--he’d seen Sebastian’s paperwork plenty over the years, and it is perfectly legitimate. Sebastian’s signature, clear terms. He’s been sold--he is now the property of Maribel Lopez.

“But--but why?”

“You’d have to ask him,” she replies, “though I’d advise against it.”

So he’ll never know. And he has to admit, he’s burning with curiosity. After all this trouble, after going so far to keep Blaine, why would he let him go so easily? He had clearly come to Ohio for something other than recovery--Sebastian hadn’t visited once in the entire time Blaine had been in his service. Only after Blaine came here did he leave his New York home. So why would he follow him here if not to get him back? Why would he throw him away like that?

The only thing Blaine can think is that something Detective Lopez said convinced him. For some reason, he wanted Blaine neither sold nor punished. Only when he realized he wouldn’t be getting Blaine back for himself did he let him go. He could have left Blaine’s fate to chance, but he’d willingly made it easy for Blaine to be sold to someone who cared enough about his well being to go behind the backs of everyone on this case and buy him herself. And Blaine’s sure Sebastian is smart enough to understand that Kurt would have something to do with this.

He gave up Blaine to Kurt. When he couldn’t have him for himself, he let Blaine have what he wanted most. For Sebastian, Blaine’s wants came only second to his own. That, or he decided that Kurt, for whatever reason, would be the next best thing to himself.

Because Kurt loves Blaine.

His last act as Blaine’s master was to make sure Blaine would be taken care of by someone who loves him. Because, in Sebastian’s mind, Blaine had always been taken care of by someone who loved him.

Has it always been as simple as that?

Detective Lopez takes the paperwork back from his numb fingers and turns to Burt, the smirk widening.

“Now, the funny thing is, I don’t actually find myself in need of a slave,” she says. “So I think I should auction him off. Do I have a bid?”

Burt smiles and nods approvingly before his mouth twists in amusement. Blaine’s breath catches.

“Fifty cents.”

“A dollar,” Kurt pipes in. Blaine turns and looks at him hopefully. They can finally be done, Detective Lopez is paid back, Sebastian doesn’t own him anymore--

“Buck fifty.”

He feels like he can’t take in enough air. He understands the elated air swirling through the room but he can’t take it, it’s too much--

“Five dollars,” Kurt says, and Burt raises his eyebrows, as though impressed.

“High roller,” Burt comments. Blaine wants to beg him not to draw this out any longer, he can’t take it-- “Seven fifty.”

“Ten dollars.”

No more--he can’t handle the joking anymore, it’s too close, he’s too close--

“Sold,” Detective Lopez announces. “I made ten times profit, I think that’s high enough. I’ll sign him over, and he’s officially yours. Congratulations.”

It’s over.

Blaine stares at Kurt, who grins at him.

“So?” he asks. He sees Blaine’s shock and his face falls. “Oh, no, are you mad? Is this--was that not okay?”

He hears Burt and the detective agree to give them a moment and leave the room, but it hardly registers as he stares into Kurt’s eyes. All joking is aside, it’s over.

“Why would it not be okay?”

“I just...bought you,” Kurt says uncertainly. “I...I know it’s not perfect, you’re a person, you’re worth so much more than ten dollars, but it’s the only way, and...I didn’t mean to make a joke of it, I--”

Blaine cuts him off with a kiss, and the smile starts growing on his face.

“Kurt, I don’t care that you bought me,” he says. “I don’t care how much you paid and I don’t care if I’m not legally free. I’m...I’m yours.”

Kurt’s smile returns, growing slowly and filling Blaine’s heart as it spreads.

“You’re--you’re okay with it?”

“Kurt, on what earth would I ever be upset about belonging to you?” He pulls Kurt in and nuzzles against his face, close and warm and so, so happy. “I already did. Now it’s official.”

“But...but you’re still a slave. We won’t ever be able to be ourselves--”

“We will,” Blaine says. “We’ll go somewhere no one knows I’m a slave, and we’ll...we’ll figure it out. Even if I have to pretend, even if I have to kneel at your feet when we’re around other people, I don’t care. I’d do it anyway.”

He cups Kurt’s cheek and kisses him.

“I’m yours,” he whispers, grinning and feeling lighter than he ever has. His shackles are gone--maybe not to the world, but to them. And that’s the only thing that matters to Blaine. He’s been sold to the man he loves, a man who will never treat him like he’s a slave. He’ll never have to serve a master again.

He’s free.

“I’m yours, too,” Kurt replies. “Not on paper, but...I am. Always.”

Kurt kisses him again, and again, and again.

“Always.”