The silvery haired man paced the expanse of his office, feeling impatient and excited all at once-back and forth, anger melting into joy before it snapped right back to fury.  The other man was sitting calmly in the chair against the wall, his hands folded patiently on his lap. He was used to waiting, just as he was used to his partner's random outbursts. It was all just part of the job. 

There was a small creak as the door slid open and Acid slinked inside. Her hair was a mess and there were cuts in her skin but the smile on her face was something of pure satisfaction-the knowing that you've gotten a job done with. A proud, wicked grin. Her eyes danced and she spread her arms wide, catching the attention of the two men who had been awaiting her presence. 

"You said you've got something," the silver haired man said.

"Brown hair," she smirked. 

"That's all you've got!" he shouted.

They both ducked before he even picked up the ceramic mug.

She crossed her arms over her chest, looking annoyed. "It's more than we had before-and the terror on his face when I said it was enough to put joy into anyone's heart."

All part of the job.

"It's narrowing things down," the calmer of the men pointed out.

The silver haired man still looked upset. "I was expecting you to come in here with a name and an address, tugging him along by the hair-not the colour of that hair!" he screamed, throwing another mug. They both ducked. "I need information. I need his height and his voice and the colour of his eyes. I need age and schooling and family. I need everything to destroy him."

"Heights not hard, sweetie," she said, making her way around the room. She leaned against the desk, her fingers steaming as she absently pattered them against the surface. Part of the wood melted away.

"Then get it for me."

She nodded, rolling her eyes. "I'll have it all pretty soon. You break one piece in his facade and the rest will just crumble down around you. He's on anxious, he's jumpy, and the next time there's a run in part of his guard will be up, but the paranoid side will break it right down."

"And then you tear away the armor right from his face?"

Her eyes glittered mischievously. "And then I rip it off with my bare hands and expose him once and for all."

Blaine was on high alert, and every day made things worse.

It only took him two weeks to feel like the world was watching him closely-like there were eyes in the walls and ears in the ceilings, watching and hearing and observing and calculating. Everywhere and anywhere he felt jumpy and unsure. His world was still crumbling.

Kurt, however, seemed to not notice. Blaine hid it well, or at least he felt he did, and the rest he was sure Kurt was brushing it off as shock leftover from when he'd told him the truth. There was more trust between them, though, with that in the open, which only made Blaine feel even guiltier-and even more afraid-than ever. 

Of course, Acid melted away into the shadows which made things even more suspicious-and Blaine even more anxious. It was like she was just waiting, letting him break apart, and then she'd strike. He was afraid he'd be walking down the street one day and she'd step out of the crowd and call his name, and he would freeze because she would know. He was almost sure she knew. It was mostly the paranoia, but there was a deep, aching feeling that she knew a lot more than she should.

What pretty brown hair you have.

The words circulated in his head, round and round, on permanent repeat. They snuck into his nightmares and kept him up at night.

He was truly falling apart.

Nobody could know, though. He couldn't let it look like he was deteriorating under the strain. He still had to joke around with Coop; he still had to calmly talk to Wes; he still had to smile at Kurt. He had to look awake in class and appear calm when he felt jumpy. He still had to be Silver and help those in need. He still was Silver.

Kurt was still able to hold him together, though. Even after Blaine realized that Kurt was trying to bring Blaine Anderson and Silver Spark together as one-even if Kurt himself wasn't aware of that yet-Blaine still felt safe in his arms. It was like he was physically holding him together, arms around him keeping the pieces pressed together, stopping the world from breaking apart. And even though the cracks were getting through, somehow he could ignore them with Kurt. 

They were in Kurt's car, driving to his house-which, Kurt told him, he lived alone in and was given to him by his not-a-spy-agency-and Blaine was staring out of the window, feeling on edge. His eyes jumped over one person to the other, scanning them over, and then on to the next as they shot past on the streets and sidewalks beyond the safety of the window. 

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked, his eyes on the road.

"Fine," Blaine replied automatically.

Kurt glanced over at him, "You sure?"

Blaine nodded, keeping his own eyes on the window and the people beyond.

"...Blaine?"

He swallowed, keeping his eyes on the window. "Yes?"

Kurt paused, biting on his lip. Blaine watched his hands on the steering wheel out of the corner of his eyes. "You...you seem a bit out of it lately."

He didn't reply. Okay so maybe Kurt had noticed something. He chewed on his lip, moving his eyes away, his heart beating faster. "Out of it...how?" he asked, trying to sound calm. Kurt would catch that shake in his voice, though. Kurt could tell.

"Blaine..." he breathed. Kurt sighed, reforming his thoughts into words, “What’s wrong?"

He could tell. He could read him. Blaine's hands were shaking and the anxiety was back and he felt nervous and worried and yes, he felt scared. He bit down on his lip until he could taste blood and hoped that if he stared out the window long enough Kurt would just ignore him and they'd go with life and everything would be fine. Blaine didn't move, feeling frozen and trapped. He just stared and waited.

Kurt pulled into the driveway. Blaine reached for the door but it locked as soon as he unlocked it.

"Really, Kurt?" he said, still turned away.

"What's going on?" Kurt said gently.

'You're just going to lie to him, anyways,' Blaine thought bitterly. 'All you ever do is lie to him and he told you the truth. All I am is just a lie. Everything is a lie.' He couldn't shake the thought, but he put on his best smile and said to Kurt, "I'm just taking everything in still."

Kurt exhaled. Did he believe that? Did he want to believe that?

"If something was wrong you'd tell me, right?" he said suddenly, scooping up Blaine's hand. His thumb brushed over Blaine’s knuckles. "If something was bothering you I'm here for you, okay?"

'Go on and lie to him.'

"Blaine?"

'I am so sorry.' "Of course I'd tell you," he said, making his voice soft.

A small, sad smile tugged around Kurt's lips. "Good," he said quietly. He reached over and unlocked the door and Blaine slipped out, feeling worse. All he did was lie. All he was was lies.

His hand reached out and flicked on the lights. Its looked so empty in there, lonely even. Blaine tried to picture Kurt living there, spending nights on the couch, listening to the sound of rain against the windows. Did he ever feel alone? New to town, did he ever feel like there wasn't anyone he really knew?

Kurt was moving around the coffee table, clearing something off of it. Blaine caught a glimpse of a large, black case. Kurt was trying to do up the latches hurriedly, one of them stuck. Blaine moved behind him, reaching around Kurt to try and help fix the faulty latch. Kurt was warm against him, and yet something stung inside, a sharp pain that seemed to spread through his body, lingering under his skin. Blaine bit down on his lip, but it stayed where it was and something about it felt wrong-more than just a sudden ache.

"You might just wanna be careful with that," Kurt murmured.

"What's in the case-spy tech?" Blaine teased.

Kurt laughed, his body shaking against Blaine's. "Yeah, spy tech."

They all want to stop him.

"What kind of spy tech?" Blaine asked curiously.

Kurt tilted his head so it was just under Blaine's chin. "The dangerous kind of spy tech," he grinned. Then his voice turned serious, "The kind someone would need to fight Silver."

Blaine swallowed. "...such as?"

He moved away from Blaine to the other side of the table and Blaine took a hesitant step away from it as nonchalantly as he could. Kurt undid the other latch and propped open the lid, revealing a weapon placed on a layer of soft fabric. It looked almost like a gun, except the end was twisted oddly, like something you would see in a futuristic movie-spirals leading up to a thin, circular tip. It was all silver-'That's appropriate.' Through the clear body a sort of greenish liquid could be seen, and just the sight sent shivers up Blaine's spine. There were tubes of the stuff in the case.

"What would that do...to him?" Blaine said quietly.

"More than just injure slightly," Kurt sighed. He shook his head. "They're starting to think he's just going to become a danger. They all say he causes more trouble than he's worth."

"What do you say?"

Kurt smiled. "I say give the guy a break and stop adding on excuses."

'Well, at least he's on your side?'

"So is this supposed to weaken him, or..."

"Weaken," Kurt said quickly. "Nobody would let them do...that."

Again, Blaine swallowed. His head was spinning slightly and he wasn't sure if it was the weird substance on the table or if it was the new information-or maybe a bit of both. The pain from before seemed to be just from being near the stuff, though.

"Isn't this dangerous?" Blaine asked unsteadily.

Kurt could see the worry in his eyes but the question must've made him brush it off. "Not to us. They've managed to make a special solution just for Silver. If I were to get hit by this the worst that would happen would be that I may fall unconscious-but even that is able to be avoided. We're safe from the stuff."

'You're safe from the stuff,' Blaine thought numbly. He walked around the table so that he was beside Kurt and sat down on the couch, trying to gather his thoughts. His stomach ached again, a sharp pain, and Blaine wished he could reach over and at least close the case.

Kurt sat down beside him and put a hand on his arm gently. He leaned his head on Blaine's shoulder, and Blaine knew he must've looked out of it again. Trying to seem cheerier, he bent down and kissed Kurt softly-that made his head dizzy in a much better, much more familiar way. Kurt scooted closer, wrapping his arms around Blaine's neck, his lips parting, mouth moving with Blaine’s. His fingers tangled with Blaine's curls and Blaine reached around to hold him closer. 

Their lips stayed pressed together, their eyes closed, and Blaine pretended that the pain was gone. The world melted away with Kurt.

Then, Kurt's hand slipped from his hair and he was slightly knocked off balance. His hand fell against the table and he tumbled off the couch, and with both of them still wrapped together, Blaine was brought off too-right into the coffee table. 

It hit Kurt's shoulder, and Kurt swore loudly. Blaine's arm grazed the top and the case tipped over, one of the tubes rolling towards them. Without thinking, his hand reached out to push it away-to stop it from touching him-and he realized what he did as soon as his fingers grazed the glass container.

Blaine gasped as pain shot first through his arm, slinking from the tips of his fingers to elbow to shoulder-and then through his entire body. It was a stinging, lingering pain, like flames licking at his skin and melting him away. He had his tongue bit down between his teeth, and in a moment he could taste blood. He could feel something against his leg-hear muffled voices-or voice he wasn't sure-but he couldn't even see straight, much less hear. The world was just one, big, tormenting pain. Everything ached.

It felt like hours, but it was only minutes, before his vision started to return. Everything was aching still, but duller and duller as the seconds ticked by. It took a moment to realize he was leaning against a wall now. Kurt was squatting beside him, saying something, but it all sounded fuzzy, like he was hearing it with hands clasped over his ears.

"Blaine please," he was saying. His voice was audible now. "Blaine?"

"Mmm?" he mumbled, closing his eyes.

There was a hand on his wrist-"Ow."

"I'm sorry," Kurt whispered, pulling away. He pressed something else-cold. Ice? That felt better. "Blaine, are you okay?

"Yeah," he mumbled. Okay, talking hurt as well.

Silence. "Can you open your eyes?"

Blaine paused and then tried. His eyes fluttered open-okay at least that didn't hurt. For a second the room spun brightly around him, but then Kurt came into focus, watching him with concern and confusion. Blaine was too dazed to think anything of it. "My head hurts," he thought-no wait that was out loud. Talking felt better at least, never mind the pounding headache.

Kurt smiled and ran a hand down the side of his face. "It's alright, Blaine."

He took a deep breath and pushed himself into a sitting position. A small gasp slipped through his lips, but the pain was numbing, bearable now-well the headache stayed rather awful. It took another minute for him to feel like he could stand, but he stayed sitting.

"Blaine..." His voice was hesitant.

"...Kurt?" he replied.

There was a pause. "That shouldn't have affected you."

What do you say to that?

"I know."

Apparently that.

Kurt sat down next to him, his eyes never leaving Blaine. He knew something was wrong, the game was over, and he was clever. Kurt was more than clever he was brilliant. Even if his own head was jumbled now it would take only a little longer for him to put the pieces together. 'You found me, Kurt,' Blaine thought, almost comically so. 'You found Silver.'

Blaine waited for the words to come-for the horror to dawn on his face. Nothing happened though. Kurt stared at him, still pressing ice to his skin which tingled now. He took Blaine’s hand and wrapped it around the ice, and then moved forwards and kissed Blaine's forehead gently and stood up to cross the room and close the case on the table.

"Are you okay?" he asked again, back facing Blaine.

He started to nod and then said, "Yeah, I'm fine now," in a tiny voice.

The case clicked closed, but Kurt didn't move. Blaine watched him, frozen in place, his hand resting against his leg, the other still on the case. He wished he'd just turn around and say it. He was bracing himself, for the impact, for the yelling, for the pain.

"Blaine..." Kurt whispered hoarsely. He shook his head. "...you."

"Let me say it," Blaine said, but his voice was so small and he felt so broken. His world, crumbling faster and faster...

Kurt turned around, staring at Blaine, still sitting against the wall. Numbly, he stood, feeling shaky. Kurt had been able to tell him the truth, so he would be able to return the favour. He balled his hands into fists and took a deep breath, gathering his senses. The time was now. He had to tell Kurt the truth.

"I'm Silver," he said, his mouth feeling too dry. "Silver Spark is me."

He knew that Kurt would have realized this, and yet he still looked slightly startled when Blaine said it. It was like he wanted to deny it so badly, he just couldn't hear it. Blaine was lying, that was it. He had to be. Except in a second the denial became sadness, and those eyes hurt to look at, guilt spreading through him. 'It's all such a mess,' Blaine thought sourly. And the pieces fell down.

Kurt opened his mouth, and closed it, shaking his head. "Of course," he mumbled. Blaine wasn't sure if Kurt was talking to himself or to him. He lifted his head, his hand covering his mouth. "Oh, Blaine."

"I'm sorry," he whispered. 

"No, don't apologize," Kurt said. He tried to blink away the tears but they slid down his cheeks. His hand brushed them away impatiently. Kurt laughed, "Oh Blaine, only you would apologize."

"You've been looking for me then?" he said, trying to sound joking.

Kurt laughed shakily. "Yeah, I guess so."

Hesitating, "...what now?"

"Am I supposed to lock you up or something, is that what you mean?" Kurt asked, leaning on the table.

Blaine laughed this time. "I guess so."

He shook his head. "I don't care, Blaine. I really don't care what they want me to do because I am not going to help them anymore. I never should have."

"You can't just quit," Blaine said. "They'd be suspicious, wouldn't they? And before, you told me that they weren't always awful, right? I can't let you give that up because..." he trailed away, biting his lip. "You shouldn't leave," he said, taking a breath. "Just...just..." He stopped himself, unsure what exactly to say. Just what? Just hand him over?

"Then I'll lie to them," Kurt said firmly.

"For how long?" His voice was barely over a whisper.

Kurt shrugged, "However long is needed," he said, still sounding as determined as before. He stood taller, watching Blaine with eyes challenging him to say otherwise.

"They're going to keep searching, though," Blaine said. "You've got that, weird weapon thing," he said, waving towards the table, "and obviously that'll work pretty well. Sebastian knows me and-and if they ever did find out wouldn't it be worse for you? To have them all figure out that you knew?"

"What am I supposed to do then?" Kurt said, sniffling. He rubbed at his eyes again, his hand swiping away tears. "I..."

In one quick movement Blaine crossed the room, closing the space between them, and wrapped his arms around Kurt. His head fit on his shoulder and he felt Kurt shaking in his arms-they were both trembling. They stood there in silence, Blaine's eyes fluttering closed, taking comfort in each other. "I'll stop them," Kurt mumbled into Blaine's shoulder. "I'll make them drop the project."

"What's the worst that could happen if they found me?" Blaine whispered.

Kurt didn't reply.

"Kurt?"

"The best you would hope for is some sort of warning and you’re done....the worst," he said, swallowing, "is that they lock you up and keep you there, hidden, and explain the disappearance as an accident..."

"Slow them down at least," Blaine replied after a moment, the images swirling in his head. 

Kurt pulled back, looking Blaine in the eyes. "Slowing them down isn't enough."

"It's all we've got for now, though," Blaine said.

Kurt nodded, pressing his forehead to Blaine's. "I'm sorry."

Blaine lifted his eyes, and being slightly shorter, he could look up into Kurt's. "Sorry? Sorry for what?"

He smiled, moving slightly forwards to press his lips to Blaine's. "I'm sorry for trying to hurt you all this time," he whispered. "And I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. I'll do whatever I can to keep them from finding you, Blaine."