Blaine knew this was the perfect moment. He had the man he loved in his arms and they were slowly dancing, wrapped up in each other. He sang softly in Kurt's ear, loving when Kurt would harmonize with him. They were perfect together in every aspect.

When I see your smile

Tears roll down my face I can't replace

And now that I'm strong I have figured out

How this world turns cold and it breaks through my soul

And I know I'll find deep inside me I can be the one

"You are the one," Kurt murmured in his ear. "You are mine."

"Mm, yes. Yours," Blaine responded, kissing Kurt softly. He loved the soft glow that came to those blue-green eyes when he kissed him. It was a look that was just for him, just for them. He would never get tired of it. He twirled Kurt around as they sang together, not caring what or who was around them. This moment was all for them.

I will never let you fall (let you fall)

I'll stand up with you forever

I'll be there for you through it all (through it all)

Even if saving you sends me to heaven

It's okay. It's okay. It's okay.

Seasons are changing

And waves are crashing

And stars are falling all for us

Days grow longer and nights grow shorter

I can show you I'll be the one

"I love you, Blaine," Kurt said, his glasz full of emotion. "You are everything to me."

"I love you, too, baby," Blaine said, leaning their foreheads together. Every word he sang was a promise, a vow to this man.

I will never let you fall (let you fall)

I'll stand up with you forever

I'll be there for you through it all (through it all)

Even if saving you sends me to heaven

Blaine began twirling Kurt around the floor in wide circles, loving the way Kurt's head tilted back, his face lit up with pure joy. Blaine sang with all he had in him, his eyes never leaving Kurt's face.

Cuz you're my, you're my, my, my true love, my whole heart

Please don't throw that away

Cuz I'm here for you

Please don't walk away and

Please tell me you'll stay whoa, stay whoa!

"I will always stay with you," Kurt murmured solemnly. His eyes bored into Blaine with the sincerity of his words. "I will never leave you."

Blaine just kept singing, his soul complete, his heart full.

I will never let you fall

I'll stand up with you forever

I'll be there for you through it all

Even if saving you sends me to heaven

Blaine was still humming the words as he woke up. It had been the most wonderful dream he'd ever had. But even that couldn't keep his eyes closed because he had the real thing waiting for him here. Opening his eyes a crack, he reached across the bed for Kurt, whining when he realized the bed was empty. Making his eyes cooperate enough to fully open, he looked around, sitting up. As he sat, his head began to pound, sending shockwaves of pain through him.

"Damn," he moaned, reaching up to rub the area that hurt. When his hand encountered matted hair and a lump, dread filled him. Bringing his hand around, he saw it was covered in partially dried blood. That was when the memory of the previous night hit him. They'd been kissing when Kurt's expression had changed from loving to terrified. His mouth had moved as if trying to warn him or call out, but that was all Blaine could remember. Cold fear lanced through him, making him forget his head.

"Kurt!" he yelled, jumping from the bed. "Ah," he groaned as he became dizzy and lightheaded. Ignoring it, he stumbled down the stairs, yelling Kurt's name. "Kurt? Baby, are you here? Kurt!"

The apartment was empty. Something yellow caught his eye, a piece of paper taped to the door. Running to it, he cried out in agony as he read the words.

You killed the one I love, now I will kill the one you love. - S

"No!" Blaine screamed, falling to the floor, the note clutched in his fist. "Kurt!"

He rocked back and forth, letting himself give into the fear for a time before picking himself up. They would want him to try and find Kurt, to try and stop them. And he would. He would do whatever it took. Running upstairs, he slid into some jeans and a t-shirt and grabbed his phone. Calling the one number he could trust, he prayed that Kurt was still alive.

"Boss man?" the voice came.

"Kurt's been taken. Kidnapped by Smythe's men," Blaine said, his voice filled with fury.

"From where?"

"My bed. And I'd like to know how the fuck that happened seeing as how I paid out the ass for the best security system money could buy," Blaine bit out.

"Shit. I don't know, sir. We'll look into it. And we'll have a team of men assembled and to your neighbor's apartment within the hour," he said.

"I don't just want a team. I want the best. The best guy you have, I don't care where he is, how much he is, I don't give a fuck. I want him here with the team, in an hour," Blaine demanded. "I will get Kurt back if I have to kill everyone in fucking New York to do it."

"Yes, sir, boss man. One hour," he said and disconnected.

Blaine put his head in his hands. How could this happen? Everything had just gotten back to good, now this? Was Kurt okay? Was he scared? Of course he was scared, anyone would be if they were kidnapped from their home in the middle of the night. Blaine had failed in keeping him safe. He'd meant what he said though. He didn't care who had to die, he would get Kurt back.

The lyrics of the song he'd been singing to Kurt came back to haunt him.

I will never let you fall

I'll stand up with you forever

I'll be there for you through it all

Even if saving you sends me to heaven

Though he'd failed in being there for him through it all, he would save him. Even if it meant dying.

. . . . .

"Why do you do those every morning?" Colton mumbled from the bed. "You already look amazing."

"How do you think I got this way? I have good genetics, but not that good," Jason grunted from where he was doing push-ups on the floor.

"You make me tired just watching you," Colton said. His phone rang and he reached out for it blearily.

"Hello? Blaine? Yeah, okay," he said, suddenly sounding alert. He punched a button on his phone. "Jason, it's Blaine, says he needs to talk to us. Go ahead, Blaine."

Jason sat up on his knees, his brow knitted with concern.

"Um, I don't know how to say this gently, so I'll just say it. Kurt was kidnapped last night," Blaine said.

Colton and Jason gasped, both going pale. "I'm handling it. I've got all the necessary people working on it and we'll get him back. I was wondering if one of you could make up some sort of family emergency story for him with his classes so he won't get kicked out for attendance."

"Sure," Colton volunteered. "What about you?"

"I've got that under control," Blaine said.

"Is there anything we can do?" Jason asked, wiping his face on a towel, unable to believe what poor Kurt was going through.

"Just keep your phone nearby. I have no idea what kind of situation he's in. If he manages to get to a phone, I want all lines open so he can get in touch with one of us," Blaine replied.

"You got it," Jason said. "Let us know if you need anything okay?"

"Thanks, man. I'll keep you updated," Blaine said and disconnected.

Jason and Colton sat there for a moment, in shock.

"Poor Kurt," Colton said in a quiet voice.

"No kidding," Jason replied.

"I'm going to, um, take a shower," Colton said, his face pale.

Jason stood and came to him. "Hey, you okay?" he asked, taking the small man in his arms.

Colton wrapped himself around Jason, breathing in his scent and taking comfort in his strength. "I just can't believe all that Kurt has been through and now this. What is it going to do to him?"

Jason nuzzled the top of his head. "Kurt is stronger than any of us give him credit for. We'll just keep that in our minds until we get him back. Go take a shower, use up all the hot water if you want."

"Thanks Jas," Colton said and kissed him softly.

Jason turned the kiss from soft to fierce, his arms locking around the man he'd come to love. His lips and arms told Colton that he would never let him go, never let anything bad happen to him. When Jason finally let him go, Colton smiled at him.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too," Jason said, a soft light in his brown eyes.

. . . . .

"I want to know what the FUCK happened, and I want to know NOW," Blaine yelled as he let himself into the apartment across the hall from his.

All four men jumped to attention, their eyes wide and wary.

"Sir?" the man in charge asked.

"What do you mean sir? What the fuck happened last night?" Blaine demanded.

"We don't know what you mean, sir. Nothing happened, we just traded with the night shift an hour ago and they said there was nothing to report," the man said, a bit nervous at the furious light in his boss's gold eyes.

"I want the night shift back here and I want them back here five minutes ago! Now, my fiancé was fucking kidnapped from our fucking apartment in the middle of the fucking night and I want to know how the hell it happened and how the fuck it was even possible!" he yelled.

One man raced to a phone and started making calls. Another man jumped to the massive computer set-up and began typing into the system. The third man looked like he wanted to duck under the desk, but instead offered to make coffee which Blaine gave a curt nod to.

The fourth man, the lead, continued to stand in front of Blaine. He didn't know why this man was so intimidating. He wasn't that tall or hugely muscular, but the power that exuded from him was absolute. There was never any need to question him. His authority was final. And god, he hoped that he wouldn't lose his job over this. Or his life.

"The night guys will be in here in twenty minutes, sir," the phone guy said.

"Sir, if you'll come over here, I have the night surveillance tapes ready," the other man said.

Blaine went over and looked at the monitors. There was a camera outside his door, just inside his door and at various places throughout the apartment, not including the bedroom.

"Here is when you and Mr. Hummel arrived," the man pointed out and Blaine watched, his heart aching as he and Kurt entered the apartment, the view switching to the interior camera. He and Kurt dropped their coats and bags and rushed up the stairs. "Um, we don't see anything for a time, then we see this," the man said. The tape rushed forward and now showed them in their boxers going in to raid the kitchen. He wanted to reach through the screen and shield Kurt somehow, protect him from whatever was coming. "Then, all is quiet until you got up." The screen showed Blaine rushing around the apartment, obviously yelling, his face terrified. "There is no evidence that anyone came in at all. Is it possible Mr. Hummel left?" the man asked.

Instantly, Blaine had the man out of his chair and held by the neck against the wall. "How the fuck would Mr. Hummel have left if you don't have it on tape?" he growled. "And how would this have been taped to the inside of my fucking front door?" he yelled, shoving the note into the man's face. Abruptly, he let him go. "We need to figure out who fucked with the system. I want each of the night shift questioned and re-questioned until we can be absolutely certain one of them is not the mole. Somebody got into my apartment without the camera's catching it. I want to know how," Blaine demanded.

With that, he left, slamming the door behind him before going back to his apartment. He ran up the stairs and fell onto his bed, burying his face into Kurt's pillow, desperate to at least smell him. After laying there for a moment, he got up and was about to go downstairs when he saw Kurt's long sleeve v-neck shirt on the floor where Blaine had thrown it the previous night. He took it and slipped it on, tears stinging his eyes as the aroma of Kurt and his body-wash surrounded him.

He made a couple phone calls to the school, ensuring that any absence he had would be excused. It definitely helped to have the connections he did sometimes. He had thought those connections would keep Kurt safe. That was the reason behind moving here, to this apartment. Now he felt violated. Someone had come into their sanctuary and took away the sense of security.

Making some toast, though he wasn't hungry, he sat down to eat it. He knew he needed to keep strong. There was no telling how long this could go on and he had to be ready for anything.

. . . . .

His head ached something fierce and his mouth was dry. Kurt blinked his eyes slowly, moaning at the pain and tried to lick his lips. Instead he licked a piece of cloth and wondered why he had fabric in his mouth. Suddenly he remembered. Laying in bed, kissing Blaine, then seeing a large man come up behind him and hit him in the head. Blaine's limp body had fallen to the side and the man had grabbed for Kurt. Before he could get out a yell, the man's fist came down and Kurt knew no more. Now he was in a dark room with fabric in his mouth. He reached up to pull it out and realized his arms were tied down. A quick tug proved his legs were also tied down. Probably to a chair, judging by the feel of it. As he tested out his other senses, he found that it wasn't a dark room, but some sort of sack was over his head. He could still breathe easy enough, so it must be some sort of real material, nothing synthetic. He mentally shook his head at himself. Now was not the time to prove what he knew about different fabrics. Obviously, he'd been kidnapped. The main question was why? Was it because of who Blaine associated with? Or was it because of something Blaine had done? Sebastian's face came to mind, unbidden. Yes, that would most likely be the answer.

Oddly enough, though he was afraid, he wasn't terrified. Not like he'd been when he'd been attacked before. Maybe it was because he knew that he'd already been hurt as badly as he could be. Maybe it was because he knew Blaine would come for him. He could take getting beat up, hell, he'd done it for years. He would stay strong. For Blaine. He had to make Blaine proud. If that thought could keep him sane, he'd make it through this in one piece.

Trying to hear as hard as he could, he didn't detect anyone close by. There weren't any distinguishing sounds or smells that he could place.

After he gave up on that, he began singing to himself, song after song in his head, keeping himself occupied and hopefully, sane.

Just as he got through the final verse of "Happy Days Are Here Again", he heard footsteps.

Suddenly the bag was lifted off his head. Cotton, he noticed absently. The light was bright and he blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to see who was near him.

Looking up, he saw a tall, thin man in an expensive suit. Dior, if he wasn't mistaken.

"Hello, Mr. Hummel," the man said, his voice smooth and refined. "Do you know who I am?"

Kurt shook his head, still blinking against the light.

The man knelt down in front of him and Kurt froze. The man had a narrow face, mocking green eyes, and an all too familiar smirk on his lips. "Ah, I see you recognize me now. Or maybe not me, but you definitely knew my son. I'm Chandler Smythe. And your boyfriend killed my son, Sebastian. And I believe it's only fair that since he killed the one I love the most that I get to kill the one he loves the most. Don't you agree?"

Kurt's eyes went wide and he prayed he would be brave enough to get through this.

. . . . .

Blaine was putting the last of the dishes in the dishwasher, trying to stay busy, when the doorbell rang. Finally, he thought, the rest of the special team must be here.

He opened the door, about to snap out an order, when he stopped.

"Jason, what are you doing here? It's really not a good time," Blaine said, trying not to yell at him to go away. He didn't need any of his college friends seeing or even being aware of the type of people he dealt with.

"What do you mean? You asked me to come here," Jason said with an easy smile.

"Um, no. I asked you to keep your phone nearby, but I didn't ask you to come over," Blaine said, confused.

"You asked for the best man we've got. And I'm it, boss man," Jason said, grinning.

Blaine just stood there, mouth gaping.