Kurt and Blaine stared at each other, equally horrified and confused. They felt the magnetic pull between them suddenly intensify as a man in a suit gripped Kurt's shoulders and led him away from Blaine into the ring.

Kurt didn't know what was going on. He thought this whole thing was illegal and with a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach, he realized that he had no idea what he had just signed. Had he consented to this farce?

But Sebastian knew. Sebastian knew, and was currently looking at Kurt with a cold, detached intent that made Kurt's skin crawl. Kurt wondered if he threw up all over the floor right now if that would somehow postpone this competition or disqualify him somehow. He couldn't lose Blaine, but what the hell was he even supposed to do here?

He closed his eyes for a split second and tried to gather his thoughts, but was interrupted by a swift, hard pressure to his stomach that knocked his breath out of him. He fell to the floor and heard a sickening wheezing sound coming from his chest as he tried to catch his brain up to what was happening around him. He slowly managed to get back on his feet, only to be knocked back down a second later by three successive punches to the side of his head.

It seemed like Sebastian wasn't hitting him while he was down, so he stayed down for a moment while getting his bearings. He didn't see any weapons on Sebastian, and he didn't have any, so maybe that meant this was a fist fight? He felt relieved for a second, then remembered that Sebastian could probably easily kill a man with his fists. Kurt didn't want to die, of course not. He had plans. He was going to be successful and happy. He was going to be rich, and take care of his father and Carole, and have a family of his own. He would grow old with his husband, becoming one of those rickety old gay men with a meticulously groomed beard and custom made, beautifully tailored suits that he saw on Wednesday nights at the bars in Greenwich village.

Uh oh, Sebastian was advancing toward him again. How long had he been down for? Was this like those obviously faked wrestling matches on tv where the winner was announced when the loser stayed on the ground for ten seconds?

"Shit!" Kurt grunted, frightened at the thought that he could lose just by sitting on the floor too long. He got up again, and this time Sebastian did not let up as easily.

In a practiced stance with knees slightly bent, arms and shoulders perfectly balanced as he moved gracefully, Sebastian kneed Kurt in the back, then once he was down, kicked him in the side. He held Kurt to the floor face down with a heel on Kurt's neck, and began to break Kurt's ribs purposefully, one at a time.

The pain was blinding, and Kurt tried his best not to pass out. He tried to listen for Blaine. Was Blaine still there watching all of this? Would he have nightmares after Kurt was dead? Suddenly the additional pain halted, leaving him to stew in the already present torture inflicted on his body. Kurt thought he heard his name. What was that being said to him?

"Do you release Blaine as your candidate?" Sebastian spoke in a clear, chillingly calm voice. "Kurt!" Sebastian yelled sharply, as thought he was repeating himself. "Do you release Blaine?"

Kurt tried to breathe shallowly, to take in enough air to say that yes, he would release Blaine. He wasn't cut out for this type of fighting. He didn't want to release Blaine but what would it do to Blaine if he was dead? He couldn't even imagine how damaging that would be for his sweet, gentle soulmate.

But Kurt couldn't seem to get enough air into his lungs to form clear words. And Sebastian was advancing on him again. Kurt braced himself for more pain.

The pain didn't come, and Sebastian's weight was no longer on him. Squinting his eyes open, he was met with tearful hazel ones staring right back at him. He looked at Blaine's shirt, which was completely covered in blood, and passed out.

Blaine couldn't believe this was happening. How could Sebastian betray them both like this? It was as if Sebastian was a complete stranger. Who knew what he was capable of?

He was capable of extreme, detached violence, it turned out. Blaine knew the rules, he had read them all in his research, and knew he wasn't permitted to interfere in a competition. But when he heard the sounds of ribs cracking, it was as though his rational brain snapped, leaving the unhindered fight or flight response dangling dangerously on the edge.

Grabbing the closest weapon from the wall, a small, sharp knife, he advanced on the two competitors manically. A man in a suit restrained him expertly, but then he wasn't there anymore. What had Blaine done to the man in the suit? He would worry about that later. He wiped the blood off the knife with his shirt and moved closer to Sebastian, who was very occupied with Kurt and didn't even seem to hear him coming.

Just as Sebastian's foot was about to stamp down on another one of Kurt's ribs, Blaine closed his eyes and thrust the knife blindly, with all the force of his fear. His fear for his future. Thrust. Fear for Kurt's safety. Thrust. Fear for his family's involvement, and all the repercussions of this day. Thrust. He couldn't seem to stop, he had been taken over by some outside entity that needed to protect Kurt at all costs. Kurt...what was happening with Kurt?

Blaine bent down slowly, knife still gripped tightly in his right hand, and brought himself face to face with Kurt's squinted shut eyes, cheek on the hard floor.

"Blaine," Kurt wheezed out quietly, his voice laced with agony, "what happened?"

Blaine tried to regain some control of his body, and managed to direct his eyes around the room slowly. His voice matched Kurt's pained whisper, though he was uninjured. "I think I might have killed Sebastian." But Kurt was already out, and hadn't heard him.