Kurt stayed awake as Blaine napped; he changed the bandage on Blaine’s leg and then began tapping a rhythm on his leg, mumbling soft lyrics as his fingers wove through Blaine’s hair.

“You’re singing,” Blaine mumbled sleepily. “S’nice.”

“You’re awake.” Kurt started; glancing down and stilling his hand in Blaine’s hair.

“Mmm” he mumbled, tugging at Kurt’s jacket, his eyes still firmly pressed shut. “Keep singing.”

“Another time, maybe.” Kurt said quietly.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Kay”

“You gonna go back to sleep?” Kurt asked softly as a bird landed on the broken windowsill and chirped happily. Kurt glanced over at it and then back to Blaine.

“Na” Blaine whispered, his eyes still closed as he licked his lips. “Do you wanna?”

“No, I’m...good.” Kurt rubbed Blaine’s back softly and bought his hand away from Blaine’s hair where his head rested on Kurt’s chest.

Blaine hummed and lifted his head, batting his eyelids sleepily as he leant forward towards Kurt’s face more, Kurt’s hand rubbing his back tenderly.

“Can I...” Blaine started, eyes darting down to Kurt’s lips as he scooted further up the old mattress and pressed their chests together. “Can I...” he tried again.

Kurt just looked him in the eye, nodding gently and closing the distance between them, their lips pressing and slotting together perfectly as if they were just made to kiss one another. They kissed softly for a few moments, until Kurt pulled back and ran his finger to tuck a curl behind Blaine’s ear.

“We should-”

Kurt didn’t finish his sentence; instead he was cut off by the small idle beeping coming from the window. He nudged Blaine off of him and walked over curiously to find a small silver parachute. He opened the metal container and pulled out a small tube and a slip of paper. He held the paper in front of him and smoothed it out between his fingers.

Apply every few hours. Keep drinking, you’re doing good kid.

- M. Undersee.

Kurt smiled at the note and bought the tube of cream over to Blaine. He passed him the note and moved further down the mattress silently, beginning to take off his bandage.

“Is that your mentor?” Kurt asked as he unwrapped the bandage further.

“Yeah, he’s the Mayor. There wasn’t anyone fit who had won and was still alive...so we have hi-aaaaah.” Blaine winced, pulling his leg back when Kurt ran a coat of the cream over the wound on his thigh.

“Sorry.” Kurt whispered, holding Blaine’s leg in place with his free hand. “It’ll help, I swear.”

“Kay...” Blaine mumbled; biting his bottom lip as Kurt rubbed more cream over the wound. Blaine’s small mumbles of protest soon transferred into more comforting and soothed mewls.

“Is that okay?” Kurt asked, screwing the lid back onto the tube.

“It’s perfect...thanks.”

Kurt just smiled and tucked the tube into Blaine’s jacket pocket. “You keep hold of that. Remind me in a few hours.”

“It feels good” Blaine pulled his knee to his chest and then outstretched it again. “Yeah, good.” He concluded, pushing himself to sit up to where Kurt was near the end of the bed.

The next thing that happened was somewhat a blur to Blaine, but Kurt reacted quickly enough for the both of them.

The front door downstairs swung open with a huge thud, and Santana’s shrill voice rang out.

“Search upstairs. See what you can find.” She ordered to one of her allies.

Kurt turned to Blaine and cupped his cheek quickly; he pressed a hard kiss to his lips and then pulled away.

“Get behind the bed and stay here until they’ve gone...I’m gonna get rid of them, but I don’t know what’s gonna happen, just stay here.” Kurt whispered and Blaine nodded. “Promise me” Kurt’s voice cracked a bit but he was too busy arranging his arrows on his back to worry about it.

“I promise” Blaine whispered back. “But Kurt-”

“I’ll come back for you,” he promised. “I will.” It seemed more like he was reassuring himself, but he left the room with just a final press of their lips together.

Blaine scurried behind the bed and grabbed for Kurt’s bag which he’d left. He could hear their voices downstairs.

“Kurt!” Santana’s voice was cheerful, as if she was really happy to see him. “You got away from me back there, what happened?”

“Oh I-”

“Weren’t you with that boy from 12?” She accused. “I didn’t hear the cannon...”

“Yeah uh, he ran. He’s pretty fast. I was trying to find him but he’s not here.”

“Britt!” She yelled, and Blaine could hear the next voice come from directly outside the door he was behind.

“Yeah?”

“Come down! No one’s here. It’s just Kurt.”

Blaine heard Britt’s footsteps become shallower as she ran back down the stairs and he let out a huge breath.

“Let’s go then.” Santana concluded, and the lump in Blaine’s throat disappeared. Kurt would be back with him in a couple of minutes, he’d keep him safe, just like he promised.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Kurt added, and the door slammed a minute later, leaving Blaine alone in the house.

Blaine stayed frozen on the floor, trying to figure out what had just happened. Had this been Kurt’s plan all along? Get close enough for Blaine to trust him and then to just leave a few hours later, to join the Careers and then take him out nearer the end of the games acting like he’s never even see him before? It didn’t sound like Kurt, but then again, Kurt was a career. You never trusted careers. Blaine mentally scolded himself for being so stupid, but he couldn’t help the sob which escaped him when he threw his head back against the wall.

Kurt wasn’t just a career; he was Kurt, Blaine’s Kurt. He was the boy who opened up to Blaine about his family, his childhood, his brother. But that didn’t explain why Blaine was alone, in the middle of the games. He was hopeless, if it wasn’t for Kurt he wouldn’t have made it past the Cornucopia bloodbaths, and even if he had, those Careers would have taken him out within the first hour. He needed Kurt, and on some level, Kurt needed him.

Blaine let himself cry it out; he pushed his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, burying his head in the middle. He cried for what felt like a few hours, and just as his tears began to dry up, the front door flung open again. Blaine tensed up, diving for the dusty closet to the right of the room; he clambered in noisily and closed the door after him. He heard footsteps come into the room, and clutched the bag tighter to his chest, closing his eyes tight.

“Blaine?” Kurt’s voice was just a whisper, it sounded solemn and apologetic, but Blaine didn’t move. He held his breath and let a small shiver run through him.

His footsteps left the room a few moments later and the door slammed shut behind him.

Blaine pushed the closet door open a couple of minutes later and climbed out, pulling the bag onto his back and heading out of the door without a second glance at the room. He held his gun tightly in his hand, but as soon as he reached the hallway, five cannons sounded immediately after one another, and a knot tightened in Blaine’s stomach.

It could be anyone, he told himself. It’s not him, it’s not.

-

Kurt stood back to back with Santana, ready to fire an arrow at any moment that someone might appear. They knew they were here; they were prepared to kill them.

The careful tread of Santana’s shoes comforted Kurt, it was nice having someone around who knew what to do in these situations, and it was a relief not to have to worry about looking after someone else.

“Blaine, I’m not gonna babysit you.”

His own words rolled over in his mind, but he shoved them aside. It was too late to worry about Blaine, what mattered was this moment, and killing these tributes. When one tossed a knife in Kurt’s direction, he instinctively shot an arrow straight at her, killing her instantly as it lodged in her throat. Santana grabbed the knife from where it lodged in the ground next to Kurt’s feet and threw it towards another girl who moved out from the side of the building. Within moments, Kurt, Santana, Brittany and Sugar had killed the 5 tributes effortlessly. The five cannons sounded and Kurt and Santana exchanged a grin.

“Let’s move out. Mike and Tina are waiting for us.” Santana announced, reaching out and taking Brittany’s hand sweetly. Kurt eyed them carefully for a second, slinging his bow across his back.

-

Blaine stayed outside that night until the anthem played. He didn’t need to be alone in some dark, cold house. Not when it wasn’t safe. He needed to be alert.

Blaine’s eyes stared into the sky as the tributes images flashed onto it, his whole body relaxing when the first image they showed was the male tribute from 5. It meant that Kurt was safe, he was alive. The male tribute from 7 and the females from 8, 9 and 10 were next, which was the end of their alliance. He continued gazing at the sky long after the anthem played again and they were plunged into darkness. The only thing which startled him was the small wet drop of rain hitting his nose.

Once the rain was hitting the ground relentlessly, Blaine moved into the downstairs room of a house. He sat in the corner, cuddling into himself and shutting his eyes gently.

This wasn’t such a bad place to fall asleep. Maybe tomorrow he’d find Kurt again; maybe he’d be able to hold him one last time.

That was his last coherent thought before he let himself drift into a restless sleep. Only to be woken up by a loud sharp sound of a door slamming open. He jumped up into a sitting position, Santana stalking towards him fiercely, flagged by Kurt and the blonde girl from 3.

“Hey 12.” Santana sarcastically greeted. Blaine just stared at her, not braving a look at Kurt.

“You’re not good at this hiding thing...” Brittany added, sliding a hand onto her hip.

“Take care of him, Kurt. I’m bored of killing people.”

“You want me to kill him?” Kurt’s voice wavered a little.

“Yes?” Santana glared at him. “You had no problem in killing off that little bunch of misfits yesterday.”

“Alright.” Kurt finally breathed out, turning to look at Blaine.

Blaine allowed himself to look into Kurt’s eyes again, slowly, carefully. But his Kurt wasn’t there. This was someone else, someone terrifying, someone who was holding an arrow lined up with his throat in front of him. Someone who was prepared to kill him in a second. This wasn’t the same person who held him close, kissed him and kept him safe, this wasn’t his Kurt. But Blaine wasn’t sure if he was glad. His Kurt wasn’t real, his Kurt was never coming back.