Blaine wants to shove any thought of Cooper and his upcoming visit (also known as the disturbance of Blaine's peace) completely out of his mind, at least for the day, but that's pretty difficult when everything he needs to do surrounds Cooper – he has to send Cooper Kurt's sketches of Cooper's project house. Then he has to go to said house and film some shots for Cooper's show. He has to discuss Cooper's timeframe with the contractors and go back over Cooper's budget to make sure they are staying within their means. At every angle, it seems that Blaine's whole day is Cooper, Cooper, Cooper, Cooper, Cooper.

Until sunset, when the whole night will be him and Kurt – and Blaine has an idea for a very special, very unique date for the two of them. He'll need to double check some details when he can steal a moment alone, but then…

With that in mind, Blaine decides to get his Cooper-centric responsibilities out of the way as quickly as possible, tearing into them like the cliché yanking-off-a-bandage, only this bandage is made of heavy duty duct tape, attached to his skin with tiny hooks like claws digging in, refusing to be removed without leaving behind some marks.

It turns out those “marks” are Sebastian's words from earlier, which, like it or not, ring in Blaine's ears, tolling with urgency to them - Is your family going to see things that way…or are you just going to keep him your dirty little secret?

One look into Kurt's excited blue eyes as they make their way to Blaine's vehicle answers that question for him.

No. Kurt is not going to be a dirty secret. Blaine refuses to keep him hidden. This beautiful boy who puts so much trust in Blaine deserves better than that.

They leave the beach house and head straight to Kinko's to scan and email the mock-ups Kurt drew. Dressed in Blaine's hoodie (though Blaine considers it Kurt's hoodie now) and covered from head to toe, Blaine takes Kurt with him in to the store and shows Kurt how to use the various pieces of office equipment. He teaches Kurt to scan the individual sketches into the computer, attach them to an email, and then send them off via Internet. Kurt had said that he and Sebastian knew about things like cellphones and computers - that they had learned about these advances from television shows they heard while they were still broken pieces in that horrid basement room. But knowing about them and seeing them in action are two very different things. Several times, Kurt looks behind the screen of the computer to try and see where the message Blaine sent had gone, examining the USB cords closely, and then staring at the wall behind with a puzzled expression.

“Amazing,” Kurt says in a breathy voice. “And you're sure your brother is going to get the message in time?”

Blaine smiles as he gathers up their things, appreciating anew through Kurt's eyes the technology that he uses every day and takes for granted.

“He probably has it by now,” Blaine says, shifting everything he's carrying to underneath one arm as he fishes his vibrating phone out of his pocket. He looks at the screen, and then turns it to Kurt to prove his point.

To: Blaine

From: Cooper

Finally! It took you long enough, but I have to say that they're worth it. These look awesome! Say thanks to your man for me. You might want to consider slipping him a bonus – wink, wink ;)

Kurt giggles at the message, the innuendos going a bit over his head. “I guess he got the sketches.” Then Kurt grabs Blaine's wrist, keeping him from putting the phone away before he can read the message again. “Your man? Your man?” He looks at Blaine's face and his unashamed smile, then back to the message. “Is he referring to…did you…did you tell him about me?”

“Yup,” Blaine says, taking it cool. He didn't intend on revealing to Kurt yet that he had slipped and told his brother about them, but then again, things had been leaping out of his control back and forth for days. Besides, he wants to be honest with Kurt – even if that honesty blindsides him. “Not the…” Blaine gestures at Kurt's body with a flick of his eyes, “of course, but yes. I told him about you…about us. Well, to be fair, he sort of figured it out on his own.”

“Are you sure that's wise?” Kurt asks, releasing his grip on Blaine's wrist and quickly shoving his hands under the hem of the hoodie. The worry on Kurt's face makes Blaine wonder if he did the right thing, if he should have tried harder to come up with a convincing white lie for his brother and put off this confrontation until Kurt was more comfortable with the idea, but in his heart, he doesn't feel that this can go any other way. As inconceivable as it seems, this is right.

“Yes,” Blaine says, whispering the word into Kurt's ear as he kisses him on the cheek. “I think it is. I know I need to help you keep your secret from the world, but Cooper's a good guy. You'll see.” I hope.

“Alright,” Kurt says with a sigh, leaning in to the lips on his cheek. “If you say so. I trust you.”

Blaine swallows hard and takes Kurt's arm.

He hopes, more than anything, that Kurt's trust in his judgement is not misplaced.

“You know, I don't think I told you how amazing your sketches are,” Blaine says, leading Kurt back outside and over to where they're parked.

“You may have mentioned it once,” Kurt teases.

“You know, my brother has a lot of connections in the design business. I bet he could get you a job designing rooms - for renovations, at least. Heck, maybe he'd hire you. He already seems impressed with your work.”

“But, won't I have to meet with people?” Kurt asks, looking into Blaine's face as Blaine opens the car door and Kurt slides into his seat.

“Not necessarily,” Blaine replies. He shuts the door for Kurt, then walks to his side of the vehicle and opens the driver door. “It's something you can do from home. I mean, my brother's renovating a whole house and you haven't seen him yet.” But, you will. The invasive thought pops into Blaine's head, but he ignores it and continues. “That could be your shtick. You can be this uber-talented recluse that no one ever sees and create brilliant designs without leaving your million-dollar mansion.”

“That sounds…interesting,” Kurt admits, a touch of pink highlighting his cheeks at Blaine's faith in his abilities. “But to be honest, I've always wanted to make a living with the clothes I design. Is that something you can do from home?”

Blaine smiles wide and smacks the steering wheel.

“Even better!” he says. “In fact, design your fashions and don't cover up! You'll be cutting edge! A visionary! An icon!”

Kurt laughs at Blaine's enthusiasm. In a way, it gives him hope. Perhaps there is a place in this new world for someone like Kurt. Maybe Blaine isn't being naïve by promising to help Kurt find it.

Maybe it's not farfetched for the two of them to envision a life together.

“That sounds great,” Kurt says, quieting as Blaine starts the engine and negotiates out of the parking spot. “But that seems like jumping a few steps. Don't I need to go to school to become a designer?”

“There are schools for fashion and design,” Blaine says, thinking fleetingly of NYADA before turning on to the highway. “But if you have enough natural talent, you can design an amazing clothing line and become a break-out celebrity. They even have television shows dedicated to making talented people into fashion's newest stars, and the contestants don't necessarily have degrees. I think the last woman who won was a housewife from Poughkeepsie”

“I miss going to school,” Kurt says. “I know I talked about going to New York and being on the stage, or going to California and breaking into the movies. But the more time I spent in the basement, the more I realized, I want to go to school so badly, just like…”

“Like Sebastian?”

Kurt looks at Blaine and nods.

“Yeah,” he says sadly. “Like Sebastian.”

Kurt slides a hand onto Blaine's shoulder, the mention of Sebastian bringing them both to a solemn place. Blaine and Kurt seem to have silently agreed that Kurt will be okay as long as he has Blaine. One way or another, they'll work things out as a team.

But if Sebastian decides that their way isn't his way, if he decides to try and make it on his own, if they can't do anything about the spell, then what will happen to him?

More and more, Blaine finds himself caring about Sebastian's fate, and not just for Kurt's sake.

Because what do I get? You get each other! You get a life, and I…get…NOTHING! There is no way! Not for me!

The words hit Blaine so hard and so fast, he almost jerks across three lanes of traffic and pulls over. He turns his head hard to the right to see if Kurt is okay, but Kurt's eyes are trained out the window the way they usually are on these drives. If he noticed Blaine's momentary snap out of reality, he doesn't show it.

Blaine's heart thumpthumpthumps like mad, finally putting a face to the words.

Sebastian. Those words in his nightmare – or his vision? – belonged to Sebastian.

No. Sebastian had spoken them, but not Sebastian.

Not entirely Sebastian. Or not the real Sebastian.

Sebastian's anger, but not properly directed?

The prospects are too numerous, too perplexing. Blaine's head pounds, his brain twisting in unnatural ways to work the possibilities out, narrow them down. He tries to recapture the feelings of that memory, down to the heart-stopping anxiety of the moment when he died.

Probably not the smartest thing to do while he's driving, but he needs answers, and reliving that nightmare is the easiest way to get them. But through the haze of his vision, through the renewed ache in his body brought about by fear, answers are the one thing he's not getting.

Blaine doesn't know how he's going to tell Kurt – what exactly he's going to tell Kurt - but as of right now, Blaine is positively sure something is wrong with Sebastian.

Terribly, horribly wrong.

***

“So what are we working on today, captain?” Kurt asks as Blaine pulls up to the curb a short distance from the house. Kurt takes a peek out the windshield and sees a crew of painters have already arrived, hard at work ridding the exterior of the cartoonish fun house colors.

“Well, the house is structurally sound, all things considered,” Blaine explains, grabbing a biohazard suit he had tossed into the backseat earlier and helping Kurt into it. “Today we have crews painting the outside, as you can see. Another crew is going to be working on the wiring, making way for the remodel of the individual rooms, and now that the heavy equipment is more or less out of the way, I need to square some things away down in the basement.”

Kurt watches Blaine fuss with the suit, rolling it up his legs like before, hands touching him respectfully – the perfect gentleman.

Kurt loves that Blaine is such a gentleman, but it might be nice to see Blaine a little rougher around the edges, more raw, unhinged, with his hands on Kurt's body, his mouth on Kurt's skin, that honeyed voice of his moaning Kurt's name…

The thought makes Kurt gasp when Blaine slips the gloves over his hands.

“Are you alright there?” Blaine asks, checking to make sure the right digits made it into the right holes.

“Yes,” Kurt says, his voice pitchy-er than normal. “Yes, I'm fine.”

Blaine struggles trying to get the suit to fit over the hoodie. Realizing there is no way to make it work, he grabs the hem of the hoodie and bunches it, slowly working it up over the sweater Kurt is wearing underneath.

“How do I get to help?” Kurt asks to take his mind off the fact that Blaine is undressing him, the casual innocence of it such an enormous turn-on.

If only he were human. If only he could get Blaine to see him that way, to feel him as warm and real.

“You will be choosing the fabrics and the colors for the rooms,” Blaine reveals, focusing on taking the sweater off quickly and carefully, and not on the fact that the backs of his fingers are rumpling the soft cashmere fabric, or that his skin brushes over Kurt's stomach when the sweater lifts.

“Me?”

“Yup.” Blaine takes the hoodie off and lays it on the seat behind them. He smoothes down Kurt's sweater and finishes putting on the suit.

“All of them?” Kurt asks, overwhelmed by the job he's being given. It sounds important, like something someone more qualified should be handling…but he can't wait to get started.

“Yup,” Blaine says, pulling the ties on the suit's hood and closing up the face until only Kurt's smiling eyes peek out. “Pick out whatever you want. Go crazy. I trust you.”

Kurt puts his hands over Blaine's, his fingers still holding the ties to the hood.

“Thank you,” Kurt says through the plastic fabric of the biohazard suit.

“For what?” Blaine asks, his brow crinkling.

“For what?” Kurt laughs with disbelief. “For everything. For putting me back together, for taking me to the beach and to play mini-golf…for inviting me to sleep in your bed with you…for giving me hope that there's something for me beyond all of this…” He lowers his eyelids and leans forward, pressing a kiss through the hood to Blaine's fingers where they hover near his chin. “Thank you for making me feel human again,” Kurt says quietly. “For making life real again, and not a nightmare.”

Blaine watches Kurt raise his eyes to meet his. They look watery, as if tears might start dripping down his cheeks.

Blaine leans towards Kurt's hands, to place a kiss on Kurt's fingers, but it's not enough. Not for this moment between them. So instead the kiss lands on Kurt's lips through the hood. It's only a peck, but it promises much more.

“Thank you,” Blaine says, “for plucking up the courage to talk to me.”

Blaine wants to kiss Kurt again, wants to pull open the hood and lay kisses over every inch of skin on his face, and the thought that Kurt might want him to, might surrender to all those kisses, might kiss him back, fills Blaine with heat – an unimaginable liquid heat – that draws from everywhere in his body and settles in his stomach, growing, burning hot, until the need to feel Kurt's cool body against his becomes unbearable.

That desire Blaine had to be wrapped up all day in Kurt's embrace, exchanging slow kisses and talking about their lives, their wants, their dreams, their desires? He can see himself quite happily doing that here in this vehicle. If he puts the seatbacks down, it would more than accommodate them. They won't make any progress on the renovation today, but so what? Yes, it's irrational and irresponsible, but Blaine remembers the taste of Kurt's moans in his mouth (curtesy of a vision) and suddenly Blaine doesn't care if they get the house done or not.

That's where cellphones come in handy.

Blaine's phone goes off, and seeing as it's set to vibrate, shoved in his pocket inches from his rapidly hardening cock, it's not something he can ignore.

“Uh…my phone's ringing…” Blaine sits back in his seat, lifting up his hips to dig his phone out of his pocket, praying that Kurt doesn't see his hard-on pushing against the fly of his jeans, “I should take this.”

“Alright,” Kurt says, taking over the task of tying the hood, eyes darting away with a small smile lifting his lips when he catches sight of the front of Blaine's jeans.

Blaine pulls the phone out of the tight jean pocket, then takes a peek at the screen to see if the call is coming from his brother's number before he answers.

If it is, he'll let it go to voicemail.

It isn't, so he has to answer it.

“Hello?” Blaine tries to come up with any thought possible to kill his boner – kittens playing with laser pointers, small children crying over dropped ice cream, the fight he got into with his parents last Thanksgiving – and his erection begins to deflate, but his hard work goes directly down the toilet when Kurt turns in his chair and puts his hand on Blaine's shoulder.

“Hey, Blaine,” a woman's voice says loud enough for Kurt to hear, “are we going to get inside and get the wiring done, or do we get to hang outside and watch you make-out with your boyfriend?”

Both Kurt's and Blaine's faces snap up, both boys looking out the window. They see a group of workers gathered on the front lawn of the house, staring at Blaine's vehicle, which he had thought was better concealed than it apparently was. The woman on the phone – Lorelei, the lead electrician – stands at the head of the congregation, the biggest shit-eating grin Blaine has ever seen stretching her face, wide enough to rival even some of his brother's cockier smirks. Lorelei waves, and the whole group waves with her, chuckling at the expression of shock on Blaine's face (Kurt's expression of shock shrouded by the hood of the biohazard suit).

They start to laugh louder when Blaine drops his phone.

“We'll see you in a few minutes, Mr. Anderson,” Lorelei says, voice coming from the phone in Blaine's lap. Blaine sees her stick her phone back in her pocket, shaking her head and gathering her group together to go over the blueprints laid out over the hood of her pickup.

“I think that's our cue to go,” Kurt says, the muffled sound of his voice bringing Blaine back from a dozen different places his mind has wandered, but mainly from that make-out session in the car.

That idea has merit.

“I think you're right,” Blaine says with regret, but he knows that these people depend on him. It's not just his brother. The people wandering around out front, checking over blueprints and painting the house, rely on him for a paycheck.

Blaine's not getting paid, but other people are, and he can't let them down.

Besides, he needs to get work done if he wants to play later.

***

A few heads turn when Blaine and Kurt get out of the vehicle - a handful of amused smirks and a couple of subtle chuckles follow as Blaine takes Kurt's arm and the two head for the front door. Kurt keeps close to Blaine as Blaine unlocks the house and lets the workers inside. He holds up his wireless webcam when the team leaders meet with him, each one going over their plans for this day of the renovation so Blaine can get it on camera. Lorelei can't stop smiling during her portion, shooting glances over Blaine's shoulder at the young man tucked behind him, covered in plastic, his face obscured except for his eyes, which look back at her from behind Blaine's neck, the skin right below them blushing red.

After Blaine records the last interview, he walks Kurt into the house, where work has already gotten underway. Blaine aims the camera around, capturing as much activity as he can before he has to head off and see to the stuff in the basement. The power tools are gone, and some of the hand tools as well. There is still the matter of a couple dozen smaller, partially completed puppets, which will find a new home at a performing arts high school downtown.

Then there's the cell room to deal with.

Blaine hasn't a single clue what they're going to do with that room - probably turn it into some kind of storage because there's no way anyone would want to spend any time in there. It chills him to the core thinking about going in there, but necessary evil is necessary.

Blaine dodges busy workers, as well as piles of discarded dust and random rubbish, with Kurt close at his heels. Heading toward the hallway that leads to the dining room, Blaine stops a woman walking past, who's eyeballing measurements and inputting them into an iPad.

“Hey, Maylee,” Blaine says, putting an arm out to stop her. He centers the viewfinder of his webcam on her face and gives her a thumbs-up signal to let her know he's recording. “As you guys who have watched our San Diego renovations know, Maylee Medina is our rep over at Sierra Textile…”

Maylee smiles bright, white teeth glowing against her dark complexion as she waves at the camera.

“That's right,” she says with a nod. It impresses Kurt how comfortable everyone seems in front of Blaine's camera. Of course, Kurt suspects that Blaine has something to do with that - his personable attitude, how easy he is to talk to. In front of a camera, commanding a crowd with his charisma and charm, seems a perfect place for Blaine. He would have done well in Vaudeville. He's definitely poised for superstardom someday. Watching Blaine interview these people, talk with them and joke with them, strike up friendly conversations with them, reminds Kurt of his days on the stage, bantering with Sebastian and Andrew during their puppet act. It was barrels of fun to get lost in the part, to become someone else. Part of the reason Kurt was so good at it was because he could disappear behind that persona for a little while. He didn't have anything personally invested in making people like the characters he played, so it was easy. Being himself was a bit more difficult.

Having to sing on stage made his palms sweat something fierce, but he was good at it, and that gave him confidence.

But Blaine is so at ease with being himself, talking as himself, and he's so smart. In this century, with cell phones and computers, Blaine belongs, but Kurt – he's out of his league.

Beneath his plastic suit, Kurt starts to feel small.

His short time on stage was on such an infinitesimal scale compared to this, compared to what Blaine does.

Kurt hopes he can keep up.

He also hopes that Blaine doesn't get bored with him if he doesn't.

“Maylee and I usually confer about the fabric orders, the paint colors, the re-upholstery and whatnot,” Blaine explains, probably more for Kurt than for the audience.

“It's the highlight of my day,” Maylee says with a flirtatious wink. That wink bothers Kurt, but he can tell it's part of the act. No reason for him becoming a Jealous Jane over nothing.

“But this time, we're going to do things a little differently. My assistant, Kurt…” Blaine leans back and aims the webcam at Kurt, who sidesteps quickly to get out of view, “is going to be ordering the colors and the fabrics this time.”

“Is that right?” she asks, peeking around Blaine at Kurt and throwing a wink his way, too.

“Yup. He designed the rooms, so we're keeping with his vision,” Blaine says. “Can I snag your tablet for an hour or two so he can get that done? I promise, he'll treat it like gold.”

“Sure thing, Blaine,” she says. She hands the tablet over to Kurt, who nods at her in thanks, trying to stay out of the viewfinder of Blaine's persistent webcam. Blaine gives Maylee another thumbs-up and lowers his camera.

“It's nice to meet you, Kurt,” Maylee says. “Welcome to the design team.”

“Thank you,” Kurt says.

Maylee pats Blaine on the shoulder before she pulls her phone from her pocket and continues doing her job.

“What does she mean?” Kurt asks, following Blaine down the hallway with the iPad clutched to his chest. It must be worth a fortune if Blaine said he would treat it like gold.

“Since you designed the rooms and you're picking out the colors and the fabrics, you're officially a part of the design team,” Blaine says. “Which means that my brother's going to give you on-screen credit and a paycheck.” Blaine turns and presses a kiss to Kurt's cheek, taking Kurt's hand in his and squeezing gently. “See? You're already on your way.”

“Great,” Kurt says, and it is great, even if Kurt sounds less than enthused, but nerves can be a hell of a thing to shake. If Kurt were human, the butterflies in his stomach would have been magnanimous.

Blaine starts leading them to the basement stairway when he feels a tug on his hand. Blaine turns and sees that Kurt has stopped walking forward, shaking his head from side to side and taking a step back. Blaine looks at Kurt, confused, unable to see much more than his eyes through the hood of the biohazard suit. Those glass eyes stare past him with terror at the dark stairway beyond.

“Kurt, I…” Blaine looks over his shoulder at the stairway and he feels his cheeks flush hot with shame. “Oh my God, Kurt! I'm so sorry! I didn't think…”

“No. It's okay,” Kurt says, tugging on Blaine's hand lightly until Blaine walks over and puts his arms around him. “I want to be with you, but I don't think I can go down there yet.”

“Okay,” Blaine says, pulling Kurt out of the walkway when two men tromp through on their way to the basement. “Unfortunately, I have to go down there.”

“I know,” Kurt says, watching Blaine's eyes peer off into the distance as he thinks.

“We've removed all the chairs,” Blaine says. “You can work out in the car or…”

“Too far,” Kurt replies seriously, and Blaine smiles. Too far from Blaine, Kurt means. Blaine has to agree.

“We can set you up on the floor in here,” Blaine says through a wince. Lovely. He'll sit poor, sweet Kurt down on the dusty, dirty floor, but Kurt doesn't seem to mind. He pulls into a far corner of the dining room, away from the bustle of men and women walking back and forth, and sits cross-legged on the floor.

“There,” Kurt says with a smile Blaine can't see but he knows exists behind the hood of Kurt's suit.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Blaine asks one more time, trying to decide if what's going on in the basement is really important enough to take him away from Kurt.

The answer is yes, but he'll reconsider it as many times as he needs to come up with a no answer.

“Positive,” Kurt says, “now show me what I'm doing here.”

Blaine takes a knee beside Kurt and puts the iPad in the puppet's lap. He swipes a finger across the screen and the tablet wakes, the browser window open to the website Kurt needs.

“So, this is the website we use for our fabrics and paints. They specialize in a lot of the furnishings we use for these Victorians.” Blaine opens another tab and logs into his email account. He had sent himself copies of the sketches they scanned. He finds that email and opens the scans, creating a separate window for each. “Take the scan for the room that you want to work on…” Blaine chooses the sketch of the living room. “Select what color you want and drag it here.” Kurt watches in awe as Blaine chooses a shade of pale onyx from the palette of available colors, drags it to the floor of the living room sketch, and fills the space with that color.

“That's… incredible,” Kurt says, eyes fixated on his sketch now with the addition of a light grey carpet.

“You think so?” Blaine asks, feeling an overwhelming sense of pride in being able to introduce this to Kurt.

“Oh, yes,” Kurt says. “I mean, the color you chose for the floor is hideous, but this technology…it's amazing.”

“I'm glad you like it,” Blaine says, kissing Kurt on the forehead, and then kissing him again. He can't stop kissing him all of a sudden.

That could become a problem if he doesn't get up and leave right now.

“I'll leave you to it,” Blaine says, standing and dusting off the knees of his jeans. “Pick whatever colors you want and when you're through, I'll give it a once over to make sure we have everything we need and hit send.”

“And you really trust me with this?” Kurt asks, watching Blaine leave him alone with this task.

“Kurt,” Blaine says, backing away toward the basement, “I'd trust you with anything.”

Blaine sends Kurt a wink before he heads down the steps, the sound of Kurt's airy giggle following him the whole way down.

***

For as large a space as the basement workshop is, it feels cramped with the number of people cleaning floors, tearing down benches, and working on the electricity. Blaine hones in on two men starting their work on the small cell room and jogs over. Even though this is the one place Blaine wants to avoid, he also needs to ensure that the clean-up of this room is done right. He takes out his webcam and trains it on the door, knowing Cooper's followers will want to know what happens to this room most of all by the end of the renovation.

“Okay,” Blaine says, addressing the two men bagging up trash, “I want this room vacuumed, but can you please use a clean vacuum with a fresh bag, and then leave the bag with me when you're done?” It may seem like an odd request, but Blaine doesn't feel right tossing out any sliver of Kurt or Sebastian, not until he knows that he hasn't left anything important behind.

“Yes, sir,” one of the men says, hurrying off to get a vacuum that fits the bill.

“What do you want us to do with the furniture in there?” the second guy asks.

Furniture. That's a nice way of saying prison cots.

“We're going to bring them upstairs and toss them in the trash, but not right now,” Blaine says. He's eager to have those cots out and on their way to the dump, but not when they have to walk them by Kurt. He'll wait until later when Kurt's not around and have them dealt with.

Blaine heads to the workspace where the majority of the puppet bodies are stored and starts filling up boxes. He knew there would be a lot of puppets from the get-go, but he was certain when he started that he'd have this chore done in under half-an-hour. The more puppets he digs out though, the more he finds hiding underneath. He's used to working with puppets from his arts and crafts class at school, but as he stuffs the last puppet into box number three and starts on box number four with no end in sight, he starts to think how disturbing this fetish of Andrew Smythe's actually is.

Blaine knew the man spent the remainder of his life pining for the return of Vaudeville, but who in hell needs this many puppets? Andrew could never use all of them in his act. Was he going to start selling them?

After seeing the condition of this house, the way Andrew held on to everything – and everyone - something in Blaine's mind said no.

“Man, this dude certainly had a hard-on for puppets,” Greg – one of the guys from Lorelei's team – says as he passes behind Blaine.

“You have no idea…” Blaine says, filling up a fourth box with blank puppet bodies and taping it, only half-concentrating on the job he's doing. He switches gears from thinking about Andrew Smythe's sick puppet obsession to Kurt upstairs, sitting cross-legged on the floor above his head.

God, he can't wait to be done.

Blaine moves on to another grouping of puppets. These look more finished, and in a way, more familiar. He packs them up, but as he picks through them, each one progressively more done than the first, he realizes what he's seeing – a multitude of puppet Sebastians and puppet Kurts, regular, average-sized, the same size Andrew used for his act. He lays them out on the bench in front of him and looks at them side by side. Then he thinks of the puppets he's already packed away. Dozens upon dozens of puppet Kurts and Sebastians.

But, why?

“It's so weird,” Blaine says, looking at the identical finished faces staring up at him – Kurt with his crystal blue eyes and demure smile, Sebastian with his dark green eyes and sardonic smirk. “Why would he need so many replicas of Kurt and Sebastian?”

“You think that's weird,” Steve - one of the guys working with Greg - says, overhearing Blaine mumble. “Come check this out.”

Blaine follows the man dressed in blue coveralls over to one of the stone walls, a few feet from the door to the cell room. A couple of bricks have already been removed higher up, but as Blaine is a head shorter than the man in front of him, Blaine doesn't see what he sees. Blaine pulls out his webcam and holds it over his head, hoping that the camera gets a decent shot.

“We were following the wires that lead from the fuse box, and we found this. Look familiar?”

As brick by brick is removed, Blaine's eyes open wide and his jaw drops as he stares into the face of Andrew Smythe – a blank, very much unfinished, porcelain Andrew Smythe.

Blaine's lips move slowly before any sound comes out.

“What the…”

Blaine steps forward, the two electricians parting for him to pass by. Blaine reaches out a hand to touch the face of the puppet, but pulls it back. He doesn't want to touch it, doesn't want to have anything to do with it, especially if there's a chance that Andrew Smythe might be trapped somewhere inside.

But he can't be…can he?

“Blaine!” A frantic cry from the stairwell, accompanied by multiple sets of footsteps flying down the stairs, draws Blaine's attention away from the puppet and sends him running across the basement. Something from Blaine's vision the night before locks on to his heart and stops it cold. That cry is Kurt! Kurt is yelling out for him! Kurt is in danger! Kurt needs him!

“Kurt!” Blaine yells. “Kurt, I'm coming!”

“Blaine!” Kurt's cries. “Blaine! Help!”