"Hey there, pretty boy!"

Blaine didn't look up from his screens at the greeting coming from the entrance to what the rest of the team has dubbed "The Bat Cave." His fingers continued flying over the keyboard as he hummed in acknowledgment of the visitor to his office, just loud enough to be heard over the buzzing of the computers.

"Got something for me?" Kurt asked when he leaned on the desk Blaine was sitting at, fingers wrapping around the edge of the dark wood.

"In a moment, hopefully," Blaine answered as he continued typing, eyes scanning over the text flickering across the main screen at rapid speed. "I ran the data against some cold cases because it seemed familiar."

"Oh?" Kurt lifted an eyebrow. "I didn't catch anything like that; which ones were they?"

Blaine stayed silent for another moment, then a beep sounded from the computer and he reached for the mouse and nodded towards the big screen in front of him. Kurt turned just as photos started sliding across it, along with names and basic data on victims of cases that he didn't connect but that Blaine obviously did.

"Wait, how is there a connection?" Kurt asked, trying to remember more details about the cases Blaine had pulled out.

"These ones," Blaine highlighted a group on one side of the screen, "were all found in the same area, with similar gunshot wounds, though the bullets didn't seem to come from the same gun, but it made sense..."

"... Because each of them was killed with a gun they owned," Kurt finished, eyes flickering with recognition. "I remember now; we'd tried to find any other connection than that, but the trails ran cold as there wasn't anything else connecting them."

"And these ones," Blaine said, highlighting the images on the other side of the screen, "are more recent, with injuries that aren't all the same, but look at how there are ones that match this way..."

Kurt focused on the screen and the marks that Blaine put over the bodies they'd found, injuries matching in a peculiar way.

"It's like..."

"Like there's a set of injuries sustained, non-fatal, but each of them has some amount of them all." Blaine nodded. "Like, say, this one has the arm one and the head one, then the next has the same arm one and a leg one, then the third has the exact same head one as the first and then the leg one identical to victim two."

"If this was a torture chamber with a set of instruments, it's like each of these was subjected to a different selection," Kurt muttered as he began to see the pattern.

"Yeah, I found it a little odd," Blaine said, clicking the autopsy photos away with a shudder, "because the head injury reminded me of the case from two months ago that is still unsolved. So I ran the injury lists against the database and found all this."

"What are you thinking?" Kurt turned back to lean against the solid wood of the desk again.

"That you've got yourself a serial killer," Blaine stated. "Plus there's a match of the area they were found in with the ones on the left."

"Which could just be coincidence," Kurt said with a mild indication that he wasn't convinced.

"Since when do you believe in coincidences?" Blaine asked and leaned back in his chair, the flicker of the screens reflecting in his glasses.

"Maybe I should, since your bowtie matches my shirt today." Kurt grinned and winked. "Because I doubt you had any idea about what I was going to wear today."

"And you think I'd get dressed to match you?" Blaine smirked back. "My, my, aren't we presumptuous."

"Maybe I got dressed to match you," Kurt laughed.

"Sure you did, Mr. Vogue." Blaine let his eyes scan over Kurt's outfit. "Because you'd stoop to my low level of wardrobe."

"Hush, now." Kurt smiled with fondness. "I happen to like your bowties."

"And the cardigans?" Blaine smirked, but his hands tugged on the soft fabric of his sweater nervously.

"And the cardigans."

The moment between them got broken by the buzz of Kurt's phone. He answered it, eyes still on Blaine, who ducked his head back to his keyboard, a smile playing on his lips.

"Hummel," Kurt said, his voice only faintly disclosing his annoyance at being interrupted, his tone gruff and firm. "Yeah, okay, I'm on my way up."

"Duty calls?" Blaine glanced up.

"We have one more of group one, it seems," Kurt grumbled, "Can you send those..."

"Already on their way; it should all be in your tablets when you get to the conference room," Blaine finished for Kurt. "I'll let you know when I get more details."

Kurt's hand landed on Blaine's shoulder and he squeezed gently, whispering his thanks before he walked out of The Den to get to the rest of his team.

--x--

They were getting nowhere with the case, despite the link that Blaine had found between the cases and the few suspects in each of them that they'd brought in for questioning. Kurt was getting frustrated because even though their ME established times of death and not all their suspects had alibis, it became increasingly obvious that they should be looking for one person only. But when they brought in suspects for interrogation, each of them had a rock solid alibi for at least one of the times of death of their victims.

"What are we missing, doc?" Kurt leaned on the examination table in Brittany's autopsy kingdom. "There must be something we're not seeing."

"I asked them," Brittany shrugged, "I don't know what else they can give you."

"There is a link." Kurt sighed. "I know there is, and I trust that Blaine has that right, but we need to connect them all further, find something that will guide us to who's doing this."

"The only thing I cannot explain is the marks around their ears." Brittany pulled up the photos on the screen on the wall. "See these?"

Kurt nodded as his eyes zoned in on the small marks she pointed to. "But what are they from?"

"That, boss, is up to Blainers to figure out," Britt stated, "I just know they're nothing to do with the other injuries, and it looks like something was putting steady pressure against the skin for a prolonged time."

"I'll ask him," Kurt said, nodding. "Does he..."

"He's been looking at the photos all morning," Brittany said and watched Kurt walk towards the elevator. "I'm sure he'll be glad to see you. Don't forget his coffee!"

"As if I would," Kurt laughed before the doors closed on him, the button for the floor Blaine's office was on already pressed.

--x--

"Hi, there, baby bird," Blaine greeted Kurt, not needing to look up from his computers.

"What have you got for me, beautiful?"

Blaine's cheeks reddened at the term of endearment, but he didn't show any other reaction.

"Britt said you were on the way up," he said simply, "I figured you'd want to know about these." His hand swooped over the photos of the marks Brittany had pointed out to Kurt earlier.

"Yeah, she said you might know what they are?"

"It baffles me, because it doesn't really make any sense, but," Blaine's fingers moved at high speed over the keyboard in front of him, more photos appearing on the screen along the victim ones, "they do seem to be imprints of headsets."

"Like, phone headsets?" Kurt asked, trying to figure out where Blaine was going with the information.

"More like gaming headsets," Blaine explained. "Small ones that you'd use for team play in shootout games, or something else that requires communication during play."

"So our victims, both groups, were gamers?"

"No, I wouldn't say they were." Blaine finally turned in his chair and looked up to Kurt.

"Why not?"

"Because if you are a gamer," Blaine said, leaning back and pulling a headset out of a drawer, "if you play on a regular basis, you'd have a headset that fits comfortably." He continued speaking while putting the device around his head, "Gamers wouldn't have marks of an ill-fitting headset around their ears."

"So they weren't regular players, but they were involved in a game, possibly, just before they died."

"That is an option, of course," Blaine said, nodding. "I just doubt it was something online, or computer-related, because the injuries they sustained would have happened while they were wearing the headphones; at least that's what Britt said about them."

"That might explain the one group of victims." Kurt leaned over Blaine to grab the mouse and began moving the photos on the screen. "These ones." He pointed to one group on the side.

"Yes, they're the ones who seem to have been injured during some sort of gameplay."

"But what about the gunshot victims?" Kurt straightened up again, the other group of victims lined up on the other side of the screen. "You're still sure they're connected?"

"Well, the headset marks are another link between them, beyond the location of the murders," Blaine said, nodding.

"I can't figure it out," Kurt groaned in frustration, "I feel like we're missing something here, something essential to putting the puzzle together."

"Can I run an idea by you?" Blaine asked hesitantly. "It may seem a little odd, but it does fit, at least in my mind."

"Considering that's one idea more than I have, hit me with it, pretty boy," Kurt smirked.

Blaine's blush deepened again, and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, drawing a deep breath as if to steady himself.

"We have two groups of people," he said, motioning to the screen, "All of them seemingly involved in some sort of game where they communicate through headsets. One group has injuries that might possibly be from being physically involved in a game, maybe in a maze or something similar."

Kurt's eyes widened, because that thought had not crossed his mind, "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because you, mister, are not a gamer and aren't thinking like one," Blaine laughed.

"I keep forgetting you're secretly a geek," Kurt bumped his hip into Blaine's chair. "Though how it keeps escaping me, with all the gadgets and machinery around you... but you seem so normal otherwise."

"Thanks?" Blaine's eyebrows shot up at Kurt, who was chuckling quietly.

"I'm kidding, Blaine," Kurt's fingers wrapped around Blaine's shoulder in a reassuring and comforting squeeze, "I like your geeky side, you know that. It's also very helpful, and I'm sure you're going to tell me now how the other group fits into all that."

"I am." Blaine nodded, eyes glued back on the screen. "This is where the odd part comes in, though."

"Odder than being inside a game?"

"Well, considering I'm thinking that the other group was not inside the game but had control over the ones who were..."

Blaine's voice drifted off as he watched Kurt piece the two parts together, his blue eyes widening with shock and realization.

"So we have players," Kurt said, pointing to the gunshot victims, "and, for lack of a better word, game pieces?"

"I think so, yeah." Blaine agreed. "It adds up to me, but I might of course be wrong."

"No, no." Kurt took a deep steadying breath, "It does make sense. It's weird and creepy on a whole different level, but it makes sense."

"So you're looking for someone who likes to play mind games," Blaine said after a few beats, "someone messed up enough to play with people like this, and likely someone who has enough pull with people to get them into that situation. But figuring that part out is something I'll happily leave to Lopez."

"Yeah, if anyone's good at figuring the mind workings of creeps, it's Santana," Kurt said with a grin. "I'll run this by her and see what we come up with."

"I'll keep you posted if anything else pops up." Blaine smiled back, already turning back to his computers.

--x--

"So Bowties McGeek figured this one out?" Santana flicked her hair over her shoulder as she was leaning back in her chair, "I have to say. I'm impressed. Boy's certainly proving himself at more than just googly eyes at you." She glanced over to Kurt.

"Shut up, San," he snapped back but didn't comment further on Blaine, "We should focus on how, now that we have a connection, we're gonna figure this out. And prove it, so we lock up the creep."

"Such plebeian words out of your mouth, agent," Santana laughed.

Kurt paced around the desks and continued glancing towards the screen displaying all the known victims, all lined up the way Blaine had connected them. He couldn't think of how they were going to link the cases to a person, since there were no prints or other evidence that was foreign to the victims themselves.

"San, we've got nothing on a suspect," Kurt breathed out, frustrated, "nothing at all."

"Yes, thank you, genius, I know that," she said, rolling her eyes. "That's why we're bringing in Reid's group of psych brains to get us a profile."

"What can they tell us that we don't know yet, though?" Kurt asked. "We can be pretty sure we're looking for someone ridiculously smart, someone who likes to be in control, a person who likes manipulating people."

"How about someone who's left the gamer community but has been on top of it in the past, having left involuntarily?" a voice interrupted Kurt's monologue.

"Doctor Reid." Kurt turned to face the people who entered the room. "Thank you for coming."

"Even though you don't think we can contribute?" Light amusement tinted Spencer Reid's words.

"I'm sorry." Kurt blushed. "It's just being stuck at a dead end, or so it seems."

"Well, let's see if we can shed some light on the situation." Reid nodded and followed Santana as she pointed to the conference room they'd prepared.

--x--

"So, we have a profile, but still no actual lead in the case." Kurt nodded once the Behavioral Analysis Unit delivered the profile details to his team. "Not trying to dismiss your work guys," he said with a glance back over the people in the room, "but there are way too many victims and no sign of a suspect."

"That one's on you, I'm afraid," Agent Hotchner replied with amusement, "but the profile should at least narrow it down."

"Yeah, thank you for all the help," Santana said instead of Kurt, who was looking at the FBI agents apologetically.

"Any time, Agent Lopez."

They began packing up, and Santana walked Kurt out of the room and into his office.

"That was uncalled for, Hummel," she barked at him when she pushed him into his chair and spun him around to face his desk.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, "I'm frustrated with not getting anywhere with this, that's all."

"I know you are." Santana's voice softened. "We all are; even Britt's not her usual brainy self, and don't get me started on Anderson."

"Blaine? What's up with him?" Kurt looked up to her, alarmed.

"You mean besides the fact that he hasn't left his den in days?"

"What?"

"You didn't know, did you?" Santana's expression matched the softness in her voice. "I think he feels like he should be able to do more."

"He's the one who got us this far!" Kurt exclaimed.

"Go tell him that. And while you're at it, take advantage of the soundproofing in his Batcave and get the frustration out of your system."

"San, it's..." Kurt stuttered and blushed, "It's not like that!"

"Well, I can't see why not," she said with a shrug, "it's not like you have a valid reason that would stop you."

"I..."

"Go, doll, talk to him. And not just about work, for once."

She strode out of the office and into the conference room to see off the BAU team.

--x--

Kurt peeked around the corner into Blaine's office and studied the hunched figure carefully. Blaine's shoulders were slumped; his eyes were flicking from one monitor to another. Moments later, Blaine let out a frustrated curse and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his neck as he sipped on coffee that Kurt assumed must've been cold.

"Need a refill, sweetcheeks?"

Blaine jumped a little and spun around in his chair, his eyes brightening when Kurt came to view, a fresh cup of coffee in his hand.

"Yet again, you're saving my life." Blaine pulled himself out of the chair and reached his hand out to grab the hot cup. "My prince."

"You're better than a damsel in distress, though." Kurt smiled, his eyes glued to Blaine tasting the steaming beverage. "Prettier, too."

"Aw, shucks." Blaine tried for a dismissive tone but couldn't hide the blush. "What's with the compliments, boss?"

"Nothing," Kurt shrugged, "Just the truth. You look stressed."

Blaine fell back into his chair, set the cup on the desk and refocused his eyes on the screen.

"I feel like I should know more," he muttered. "Like, after the profile, it's..."

"You've been in the local community, haven't you?"

Blaine nodded.

"But I take it you don't have ideas, or names for us?"

"I..."

There was a pause, the sound of Blaine's feet rubbing on the carpet and the insistent ticking of the big grandfather clock from behind their backs.

"What is it, Blaine?" Kurt's voice was quiet, his hand on Blaine's shoulder.

"It could point to me."

Kurt swore in that moment that he would hear a pin if it dropped in that moment.

"Wh... what do you mean?" Kurt finally stuttered out, his voice shaking.

"I was in the," Blaine gulped and left his eyes on the screens in front of him, "I was in the community up until I started here. Some people there heard where I work and didn't appreciate having a cop in their circle."

"So they kicked you out."

Blaine nodded, barely breathing as he felt Kurt's fingers tighten on his shoulder.

"You fit our profile," Kurt's voice broke on the words.

"I do."

--x--

"You can't question him, you know that, Hummel." Santana's voice rang across his office. "There's no way it'll fly with the director."

"I know," Kurt whispered, face buried in his palms, the sound of his voice muffled by his hands.

"Berry can..."

"No!"

"Kurt, she's..."

"No."

Silence took over the room as Santana scrambled for words, for something to say to Kurt, who switched to drumming the pads of his fingers against the desk.

"I'll do it," Santana finally spoke up, voice firm and steady.

"I can't ask you..."

"You're not asking, Hummel." She walked closer and put her palm on his trembling finger. "I'm offering. He's one of us, Kurt, and I know he didn't do it, much as the profile fits."

"I know..."

"So we're going to question him. I'll be nice..." She glared when Kurt rolled his eyes. "...And I'll see if I can get some info out of him. He's bound to know names."

"San..."

"He didn't do it, Kurt."

"I just... don't... don't push him too hard."

"It will be okay, Kurt," she whispered, "It will."

--x--

Kurt paced the hallway in front of the interrogation room, since he got told by Director Figgins that he wasn't welcome in the observation room. He wasn't sure how much time had passed since Santana marched into the room where Blaine was waiting, purpose written all over her face.

Finally, the door was flung open and a smiling Santana marched out, letting out a chuckle at the sight of Kurt.

"Cheer up, Prince Charming, the boy's just signing the papers and he'll be out in a minute."

"Wh... how did it go?"

"We have some names now, at least." Santana's voice levelled out, a businesslike tone washing over it, "Boy sure knows his fellow geeks; are you sure he wasn't supposed to be a profiler?"

"He's got the brains for it, I know that much." Kurt couldn't help a smirk. "I'm pretty sure he's got us all figured out."

"No, not you." Blaine's voice rang from the interrogation room door. "You're still a mystery to me."

While Kurt was busy blushing, Santana patted his shoulder and walked off, phone already by her ear as she rattled off orders to the rest of their team.

"So you helped," Kurt finally spoke, "San said..."

"I gave her some names, people who fit the profile..."

"That can't have been easy."

"Some of the names... some of them are still my friends and I can't believe..."

"It's possible it's none of them, Blaine," Kurt tried to reassure him.

"It's also possible one of them is..."

"Blaine..."

"No, it's... I'll deal with it."

"You don't have to do it alone, Bee," Kurt said quietly. "I'm here, we're all here."

"I know," Blaine replied quietly, "but... is it okay if I just go home now? I mean, you guys don't need me for anything else, right?"

"No, we... you're not supposed to process evidence," Kurt tried to keep his voice steady, "Are you sure it's safe?"

"I'm just going to pick up a few things and then head over to Cooper's." Blaine shuddered at the mention of his brother, Kurt noticed. "It's not the worst thing to have a brother in town, much as he's a pain in the ass."

"Call me?"

"Of course. Catch the bad guy?"

"Of course." Kurt chuckled weakly and watched as Blaine headed down the corridor.

--x--

"So, Hummel, we've narrowed it down to three people," Santana started the moment Kurt walked in the door to their conference room where the team was gathered. "The others on Anderson's list had alibis for most of the murders."

"And none of those three did?" Kurt asked a few beats later, when his brain caught on to the pace that seemed to be set.

"Not unless you count online presence in a chat room an alibi," Rachel piped in, "And since that doesn't require being in a specific place nowadays, I wouldn't."

"So we have three," Kurt sat down and picked up his tablet where the data was already loading, "How close..."

"Are they to Anderson?" Santana smirked, "Two out of three are people he said he still talks to regularly, the third he hasn't seen in months."

"Start with that one then?" He glanced at his screen where the name popped up. "Quinn Fabray?"

"Already setting her up in interrogation; I'll sure enjoy looking at the pretty face while I can." Santana nodded. "You are aware that you're still benched, though, right?"

"San... why?"

"Too close, pretty pony, you're that little bit too close." Santana shrugged and scrolled through her data on the tablet. "Britts has some info for you anyway, plus the temporary replacement for Anderson is down in tech to be talked to. We still need more background on the case."

"That's bull and you know it, Lopez," Kurt snarled. "Who's benching me?"

"Figgins did, and with good reason. Look, Kurt," Santana sighed and glanced to the door to make sure no one was coming in, "check on Anderson if you think you need to, talk to Britt, get the temp set up in The Den, take it easy, okay?"

"I..."

"I know, you want to help. And those things are what we need you to do right now. Look, no one knows The Den better, Britt has specifically asked for you and I know you're itching to call Blaine to make sure he's safe. It's all so close to him that neither of you are much help in direct interrogation right now, nor would you be in the field."

Kurt sighed but knew she was right, so he grabbed his tablet and headed down to the tech department to meet whoever would cover for Blaine on the case.

--x--

"Zizes." The woman held out her hand and Kurt almost cringed when she squeezed hard around his fingers. "Here to fill in for Blanderson."

"Bla...what?" Kurt shot her a confused look as he flexed his fingers after the handshake.

"Blanderson," she smirked. "Down in tech, we all figured that since he's no Agent Anderson, we'd better call him something else. Not sure you guys were supposed to know it."

"He never mentioned it, so probably not." Kurt already liked the tech, despite almost getting his hand crushed.

"Sorry about the hand; I used to wrestle and don't always check my strength." Zizes, or Lauren according to her Visitor name tag, pointed to Kurt's hand. "Now, show me the goodies Blaine got promoted to so I can do my magic."

Kurt led them through the corridors to Blaine's office, looking strangely empty and dark with the screens off since he'd been brought up for questioning.

"Damn, this will be fun," Lauren exclaimed at the sight, "Boy's got some nice toys to play with here."

"The keys are in the top drawer, so is the list of emergency codes for generators, there's a coffee machine in the back, as long as you don't use the dark blend," Kurt rattled off, oblivious to Lauren's gaze filled with curiosity.

"Spend a lot of time here, precious?" she chuckled when Kurt took a breath.

"Wh... what?"

She laughed and waved towards the door. "Never mind. Shoo now, I'll find my way around."

Kurt hesitated in the doorway, but Lauren was already immersed in the data flickering over the screens, so he took the few steps to the elevator and pressed the down button.

--x--

The visit to autopsy didn't bring a big revelation and turned out to be more a Santana-motivated distraction that Britt happily provided. Once he reassured her that he was fine, she let him head off to his office where he dove into the data that Lauren was already feeding into the tablets, his eyes scanning over everything old and new.

"Hummel, we got news." Santana stuck her head into the office a while later. "Conference room?"

He shot out of his chair and barely managed to hold onto the tablet as he rushed through the door and into the next room.

"What have you got?"

"Does this seem familiar?" She pointed to the screen on the wall, and Kurt looked over the letters highlighted in a text, then shook his head, "It's Blaine's old screen name," Santana explained, "and it seems like someone's been using it in the past few months. Blaine didn't know, because when he left the original clique, he made a new profile, though he didn't play."

"Who is it?"

"Zizes is tracking it now." Santana pointed to the tablets. "When she knows, we'll know."

"So there is a connection to Blaine," Kurt said quietly, "then..."

"No, we're sure it's not him on the username, because the recent activity was while he was in questioning."

Kurt nodded, eyes still darting from the big screen to the unchanging small one in his hand.

"What now? Any other news while I was being coddled by your girlfriend?" He shot an unconvincing glare at Santana, who laughed at his attempt.

"Don't try; you liked it and needed her particular brand of coddling."

"Answer my question, Lopez."

"The first suspect is a bust," she finally admitted. "He did have an alibi that he just didn't want his girlfriend to know when we first asked."

"Lovely," Kurt sighed. "Do they ever learn?"

"I'm guessing this one did, since his girlfriend is Emma down from accounts here."

"Wait, Blaine used to game with Schuester?"

"It turns out that's where Will's money went, instead of the lovely Ms. Pillsbury's engagement ring." Santana grinned. "Well, that and his ex."

"Scandal on home soil," Kurt grumbled. "That will be the water cooler talk for at least a month."

"It beats the current crap about Blaine." Rachel peeked in the door. "Not that any of that is true, unlike this."

Before Kurt could let his anger about gossip build up, Santana reached for his arm and asked Rachel unsubtly if there was anything important that she needed to share.

"Yes, actually," Rachel replied, coolness in her voice. "It looks like we have a survivor in the case."

--x--

The survivor turned out to not be as much help as they needed. She was young, seemingly much too young to be involved in the gamer community they'd had their eye on, with no connection to anything but the location and the injuries that she sustained while stuck in what she called a maze.

"Did she hear anything, or see anything that would help us?" Kurt asked impatiently when Santana and Rachel walked out of the girl's hospital room.

"Nothing," Santana said with a deflated tone. "All her instructions came via text messages that Zizes is already tracking, and she only saw anything once she was actually inside the maze and had the headset on, but the voice was, according to her, distorted."

"So we're still nowhere," Kurt grumbled.

"It's a change, though, because there were no other survivors before."

"Wait, but is there anyone who went missing at the same time?" Kurt suddenly remembered the other half of the victims. "Listen, I have to go have Lauren run something; I'll see you at HQ."

With that, he ran out of the hospital and straight into his car, his mind spinning with the idea that suddenly struck him. Once in the office, he headed directly to The Den and found Lauren looking at him with a smirk.

"Blanderson was right, you do sense when someone has found something." she continued grinning.

"No time for chit-chat, what have you got?" Kurt walked closer as she turned to her screens.

"I ran what you texted me and you were right." They both watched numbers pop up on the screen, two columns of dates and times that had overlaps. "They're paired up; for each gunshot victim, there's one player."

"Player?" Kurt asked.

"Let me tell you a theory based on this." Lauren leaned back in her chair. "Now, with the survivor, we can be sure that one half of the victims was inside some sort of a game. But then we still have the other half, the ones without injuries, so they must have been in a different place. And with different instructions."

"The game players," Kurt added, his mind adding up the pieces to what he'd already figured out.

"So, whoever is on that side now is good enough to lead his 'character' back to safety, albeit injured."

"That's something that didn't happen before." Kurt looked confused. "None of them were able to walk out so far."

"Maybe now they can, because we have the person in holding and they can't manipulate the game?"

"We only have two..." Kurt's jaw dropped as he thought of the two suspects upstairs, waiting to be questioned. "It's one of them."

"I'd guess so, unless you consider the third one who just walked, but, honestly, I wouldn't."

Kurt mumbled thanks to Lauren and headed out of the room again, back to the conference room. His mind was spinning as the realization was hitting him that whoever was their killer was someone close to Blaine, close enough that right now Blaine was most definitely in danger.

"It's one of them," Kurt blurted out to Rachel and Santana, who were already heading towards the interrogation rooms. "Did Lauren send you the info we just discussed?"

"She did, we're good, we'll get it out of them," Santana said over her shoulder as she continued towards the other side of the building, Rachel on her heels.

"Can I..."

"No, Hummel, go get a coffee or something, preferably across the street. We'll call you when we're done."

Kurt sighed, but with resignation washing over him, he headed towards the lobby and then out into the sunlight, his mind distracted by the new information. As he rounded the corner, he was startled by the impact and was about to apologize to whoever he ran into when everything went dark.

--x--

When Kurt opened his eyes, there were only outlines of nothing recognizable, nothing he was able to cling to. He felt plastic digging into his ears and lifted his hands to feel around what he guessed to be a headset. At first he heard nothing, but then the sound of static made him jump and regain control of all his limbs.

"Welcome to the game, Agent Hummel," a voice said, startling him, the sound of it distorted. "You upped the stakes for yourself when you got a little too close. You really shouldn't have been digging into your colleague's past."

Kurt didn't speak and instead tried to steady his nerves. He quickly figured out that the words referred to Blaine's old username in the community and wondered which one of their two remaining suspects was close enough that they would have access to it.

Think, Kurt. Think of who Blaine mentioned as a close friend. He searched his memories of conversations with Blaine but came up with nothing.

"I'm handing you over in a moment, but here are the rules," the voice crackled through the headphones. "Listen to the instructions. Don't try to escape on your own. Don't waste your time. If you follow your orders right, you'll both live. Don't die. If you die, your teammate dies too. If you're too slow, you both die. Ready? Go."

There was a beat of silence, then another voice, distorted too, but his ears picked up something that he found familiar. He didn't have time to wonder about it more as the voice began to call out orders to move, directions and hints that he realized he'd better follow. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the space he was in, he hoped he'd have time to figure out the reasons for anything else later.

--x--

"Cooper? Cooper Anderson?" Santana asked when the door to the hotel room opened and a dishevelled man peeked from behind it.

"Who's asking?" he asked back with an unimpressed tone.

"FBI." She flashed her badge. "We'd like to talk to your brother, Blaine."

"Squirt isn't here; shouldn't you guys know better?" Worry flashed through Cooper's eyes, "He's not in trouble, is he? I mean, he did the techie thing and he swore to me field work wasn't what he was in when I tried to get acting pointers..."

"That's what we're trying to find out," Santana said, not happy to not be invited in, but as she spotted the sheet wrapped around Cooper's waist, she quickly figured why. "He told us he would be staying with you, but he didn't check in."

"I didn't hear from him since last week." Cooper lost all pretense of not worrying and opened the door a fraction more. "Wouldn't ... what's his name... Kurt? Kurt Hummel know better? He's all Blaine talks about when I ask him about work."

"No," Santana sighed, "that's why we're checking on Blaine; we haven't heard from Kurt in a few hours either."

Cooper's eyes flashed between Santana and Rachel, who was standing a little further back, worry etched into both their faces.

"How can I help?" Cooper straightened up, the sheet around his waist swaying.

"Get dressed, check your phone and see if Blaine's tried to contact you," Santana barked out. "Then you're coming with us... alone." She glared pointedly at the door Cooper was still not opening completely.

Cooper nodded and closed the door after a quick mumble of "I'll be five minutes."

--x--

"Did we let both of them go?" Lauren asked when Santana barged into her office, "because I was sure one of them was..."

"Blaine is missing," Santana breathed out, her voice shaky. "So is Kurt. It's not those two, and we must have missed something."

"Is it possible it wasn't one person?" Lauren asked as she pulled up the suspect list again. "Or maybe Blanderson missed someone. Or he didn't know someone left the clique involuntarily."

"No, I'm pretty sure the list was complete, but you might be on to something with the multiple people involved." Santana scanned over the names. "I'm with you on thinking one of the last two was involved."

Lauren pulled up the two names and data, and both women scanned over the information.

"Under the letter A, we have Artie Abrams, long time member of the same clique as Anderson, going back to early high school years, most of the time on top of the leaderboard. Until a year ago, shortly before the victims started appearing, he was discharged from the team because a new leader didn't think anyone wheelchair-bound should be on the team," Lauren rattled off. "Since they weren't an official community or registered group, Artie didn't press anti-discrimination charges, but he fell off the gamer grid besides occasional friendly games with old friends."

"Under the letter E, we have Sam Evans, close friend and former roommate of one Blaine Anderson, middle to lower standing on the leaderboard, got an invite thanks to Anderson in the first place, but stuck around the team even after Blaine was asked to leave a few years back when he joined the team here," Santana read off the screen. "Asked to leave when multiple fee payments to the team account bounced. Has since been playing with other teams, none permanently."

"Neither of them have alibi for any of the times of death of our previous victims," Rachel added, walking into The Den. "But both were here when Blaine and Kurt went missing."

"It could be, and probably is, one of them," Santana said, "but they're working with someone else, someone that got past our questioning."

"Who, though?" Lauren asked with her fingers back on the keyboard as she waited for something to start her search.

"It could've been someone who might have had an alibi for the murders but was involved in getting the victims to the game?" Brittany's voice stunned them all into silence as she entered the room while speaking. "It would make sense, wouldn't it?"

"You're a genius, baby," Santana told her and glanced over to Lauren, who was already running the searches and trying to find a match.

As the computers hummed to life at the information processing, they looked at each other, hoping they weren't running out of time too fast.

--x--

Time became a foreign concept to Kurt as he kept following the instructions that were coming at him from the headphones. He quickly realized that his microphone was not on as nothing of what he managed to say got a response. While he ducked out of the way of whatever was coming at him, the familiarity of the voice in his ear was still nagging at the portion of his brain not occupied with the orders or with flashes to the victims' injuries. He now knew where some of them came from as he got out of the way of several hits.

"I think it's time to up the stakes a little." The voice that introduced him into the game sounded through the earpieces when he came to a sudden halt in a bigger, seemingly round space reminiscent of a scene from Harry Potter. "Just to make this interesting."

"Up the stakes how?" Kurt muttered, assuming he wouldn't be heard.

It was then that he heard a gasp, and the voice that was giving him instructions through the first part of the game wasn't digitized and unrecognizable anymore.

"Kurt." The whisper followed the gasp, and Kurt's mind froze along with the rest of his body as he realized why the voice had felt familiar.

NO, nonononono, no! he screamed internally, his own voice lost at the shock.

"Blaine," he finally breathed out as he felt his stomach turn.

--x--

"Why is this so slow?" Santana paced the small empty space of The Den, glancing at the screen every few steps as they were waiting for something to pop up to help them out. "Why isn't there something matching already?"

"It's a lot of data..." Brittany said softly. "We could..."

"There's the issue of the location," Rachel chimed in. "Even if we find out who was connected to one of those two, we should look into where to go find the maze, game... whatever it is."

Santana immediately stopped and marched back to the table where Rachel already had her tablet pulled out, and they both began scrolling through the locations where the victims were found. It wasn't much to get them started, they quickly realized, as the area was too big to narrow it down much, but it gave them something to do while they waited for a hit on the other search.

We'll find them, Santana repeated to herself while searching, we have to find them.

--x--

He didn't pass his firearms test, he doesn't have his own gun, ran through Kurt's mind as the orders started sounding in his ears again. The voice wasn't as steady now that they both knew what the stakes were, Blaine's steadiness shaken to the core as Kurt could discern from the sound of the instructions.

"Left, now," came an almost cry followed by a relieved exhale when Kurt got out of the way of a pillar falling across a smaller room he'd been led into.

Blaine already got a person out.

That thought was what Kurt hung onto, convinced that the girl who was now in the hospital, injured but alive, was there because of Blaine's ability to lead her through and out.

"Down and roll left." Blaine's voice stumbled over the words, not as easily understood now that he'd obviously tried to get them out faster.

Kurt tried to search his mind for something to say, something to make Blaine more confident and sure, less panicky, as they both knew that had the potential to lead to their end.

"Keep it up, beautiful," Kurt finally whispered, and he immediately heard the steady rhythm return to Blaine's breathing. "Get us both out of here."

--x--

Their eyes all shot up to the main screen when the beep sounded from the computer.

"There's a match," Lauren said quietly but steadily and reached for the mouse to pull up the results.

What they saw on the screen made them gasp, and then Rachel shook her head.

"There's no way," she muttered, "That's not... there's got to be someone else."

Immediately after the words fell out of her mouth, though, an address popped up on screen, and she glanced at Santana who was already halfway towards the door, hand on her holster.

"Come on, Berry," Santana called out, "the game is on."

--x--

The yell pierced the air as the piece of metal hit flesh and ran straight through. Kurt's vision blurred, and the pain shot through his arm, making him crumble to the floor, fingers wrapped around the bleeding forearm.

"Kurt, NO!" Blaine's voice entered his ears and shook Kurt back to reality.

Hissing as the pain intensified when he lifted himself off the floor, Kurt took a breath and pulled out the metal triangle that sliced his skin open moments earlier.

"I'm good, keep going," Kurt said as his voice shook marginally, "get us out."

"Kurt..."

"Keep going, Blaine. If you won't, I can't," Kurt said with a firmer tone, knowing that it was their only chance.

"Okay." He heard Blaine take a steadying breath before the instructions started flowing into Kurt's ears again.

Kurt was gripping his arm tight, the bleeding just enough to throw him off but not incapacitate him, having suffered worse in the field before. Blaine's voice steadied more and more as he kept going, keeping Kurt free of any further injuries as they progressed. There was still a question that kept nagging at Kurt's mind, much like the familiarity of the voice in his ear did before it was revealed that it was Blaine's.

Blaine doesn't have a firearm license, or a gun. Where has mine gone?

--x--

The warehouse looked inconspicuous, one identical to the the multitude of others in the area. Santana recognized some of the places on the way, spots where previous victims had been found, more frequent the closer they got to the address that Lauren set up on their GPS.

"This is it," Rachel whispered as the grey building came into view. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be." Santana glanced to the other car where Jake and Puck were gearing up across the lot, the air around them still and everything eerily silent.

They motioned to the boys before their feet hit the concrete, and they headed off separate directions as they always did in the field. Santana's hands were shaky on the trigger for a moment, itching to take out the person responsible. As they slipped up a ladder on the side of the warehouse to reach the roof, she realized that though they knew who would be inside, they really didn't know what to expect once they were in.

"Let's get them," Rachel whispered, and they both slipped in through an open window on the top floor.

--x--

Kurt tried to keep his mind clear and his limbs moving the way he needed them to, but he began to feel dizzy because of the blood loss, his motions more sluggish, reactions slower.

"Keep going, baby bird," Blaine's voice said gently in his ear, "I can lead you, but you're the one who has to do the footwork."

"I know," Kurt mumbled, feeling exhaustion kicking in at each word.

Blaine followed his words with another set of instructions, but Kurt was too slow to react, a falling pillar catching his ankle. He hissed and bit his lip, not wanting Blaine to know just how badly he was hurt this time.

"Kurt..."

"I'm good, keep talking." The response came in a sharper tone than he intended, but Kurt didn't waste time on politeness.

"Turn left, ten paces ahead, left again," Blaine continued shakily, clearly not convinced by Kurt's words. "Door ahead, stay behind it when you open it..."

As those words left Blaine's mouth, they were followed by a thud and a silence.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked as panic seeped through his voice, "Blaine! Come on, pretty boy, what's next?"

--x--

Every movement that Santana caught out of the corner of her eye startled her for a moment, and she briefly considered whether they should have left the search to another team, one that didn't have two team members' lives at stake in it. But then she thought back on the conversation with Jake, Puck and Rachel and remembered the resounding "no" when the director dropped that suggestion. Not one member of the team was willing to leave it up to anyone else, and she knew she could trust each of them without fail.

Rachel's fingers wrapped around Santana's forearm and they both turned to what seemed like an office on the same floor they were on. There were two visible entrances into it, one on each side, and the women spotted Jake and Puck approaching the other side quickly. A few hand signals later, they were positioned at the doors, Santana's hand on the handle on their side, the other hand gripping her gun tighter, finger steady on the trigger.

She only just managed to not press it and fire into the air when the unmistakable sound of a shot rang through the air, muffled by the walls of the office and clearly coming from inside it.

--x--

Kurt didn't try again when Blaine didn't respond, the silence in his ears deafening as he tried to remember the last few instructions.

There's got to be a reason, he thought as he ran through what he heard last.

The door, he realized quickly, I wasn't supposed to know about staying behind it.

He made his way across the last corridor, slow but steady on his feet as the hope flowed through him that Blaine must be somewhere close, somewhere within reach.

Of course, he didn't know what he could do once he got to Blaine, not without his own weapon, not while injured more than he could brush off easily. Possibilities swirled through his mind as he approached the door that Blaine had mentioned, and he shuffled to the side before he reached for the handle. A thud on the floor turned out to be a heavy brick load that would've hit him had he not heeded Blaine's warning, and Kurt slowly peeked into the room behind the small door.

"Blaine!" he gasped and threw himself into the room, trying to reach the motionless body as fast as his arm and foot allowed him.

Once he was next to Blaine and felt the warmth and pulse in his wrist, Kurt caught movement in his peripheral view.

"Well, well, well." A familiar voice matched the face his eyes focused on. "Not bad, Agent Hummel, not bad at all."

"Emma?" he whispered and shivered when he noticed his gun in her hand, not aimed at anyone but loaded and ready.

"Surprised?" The woman smiled. "I would've thought you'd figure it out once Will's alibi wasn't me."

"But you weren't..."

"I was," she nodded, "I watched your progress on the case. You never looked into why he got kicked out of the team, did you?"

Kurt shook his head, slowly connecting the dots. "You got him kicked out."

"Oh, no, he did," Ms. Pillsbury said with a level tone, "because when he decided to get into the games, there was no way he could match the scores I had. Except my account was set up in his name, so when he used it, the team just figured out it was the other way around and he'd let me play."

"And that's why they kicked him out," Kurt finished, then took a deep breath. "Why this, though?"

"It's a game." Emma smiled, her eyes cold. "I couldn't play with them, so I played my own game."

"But..."

"You got it right at the end, though, I wasn't alone." She barely took her eyes off Blaine and Kurt on the ground. "Sam helped a lot; he wasn't too impressed with being kicked out for a few unpaid fees."

"Sam?" Blaine's voice was weak and barely audible, but enough to catch Kurt's attention. "Sam Evans?"

It wasn't loud enough to catch Emma's attention, and Kurt held his breath, hoping that Blaine would stay down long enough so Kurt could take her out.

"You got Sam into this?" Blaine growled, his voice stronger. "No."

"Oh, hello... pretty boy, is it? Sammy has talked about you a lot." Emma smirked. "Said something about you having a crush on him. He really didn't want you anywhere near this, but it was inevitable, wasn't it? You two would've been so cute," the woman cooed softly, pointing Kurt's gun at them both. "Such a pity..."

"No!" Blaine called out when he caught the movement of the gun towards Kurt.

Kurt immediately shifted to move himself in front of Blaine, but he wasn't fast enough, and Blaine slipped past him. There was a flash, a bang from the gun and then Blaine was on the floor, the gun flying across the room as Emma fell backwards, her head hitting the concrete floor with a crunch.

"Blaine! Fuck, no, Blaine..." Kurt moved over faster than he expected to be able to, then caught movement from the doors on the sides and breathed in relief when he recognized his team.

"San," Kurt's voice was only a weak whimper. "There's another one, Sam... Blaine knows him..."

"I know, Kurt, we know and he's back in custody." She put her hand on his shoulder. "Hold on tight to him. It's just a scrape, and the medics are on their way. Rachel's got your arm." Santana continued talking, keeping Kurt's mind occupied and distracted enough from the weakness that was slowly taking over his body.

"Kurt..." Blaine's voice sounded weak, but his grip on Kurt's hand had strength in it.

"I'm here, the docs are on the way," Kurt reassured Blaine as strongly as he could manage, his fingers lacing with Blaine's.

"Will you go out with me?" Blaine asked suddenly, making Kurt choke out a laugh. "When I get back on my feet, will you go out with me, please?"

"Of course," Kurt answered a few beats later. "After we get you fixed up, though; wouldn't want blood ruining our date."

A soft smile played on Blaine's lips as he nodded, the grip on Kurt's fingers steady.

"Just... don't do this to me again, okay?" Kurt pleaded anxiously. "No more you anywhere near the field. I can't... I don't want to lose you..." His voice faded into a whisper, sobs threatening to take over as reality began hitting him.

"I won't," Blaine whispered. "You won't lose me."

"I'm hoping you're still thinking that after our date." Kurt laughed weakly and bent down to brush his lips against Blaine's cheek.

"Hey, you two, I heard you talking about a first date, cut it out with the kissing!" Santana called out from the other side of the room, waving in the medics. "Or can you at least wait until you're not bleeding? Some story to tell your children..."

With those words, Kurt and Blaine let out a chuckle and a hiss at the movement, both cringing as the injuries made themselves known.

"This will do... for now." Kurt brought their fingers together again. "This will do."

--x--

Kurt fidgeted with the collar of his shirt as he glanced at himself in the mirror of the elevator. He was startled when it stopped and the doors opened to reveal the dim light of The Den.

"Blaine?" he called out into the empty space and smiled when he saw a head peek out from the office in the back.

"Hey, gorgeous," Blaine said, smiling brightly. "You're early."

"Couldn't wait," Kurt replied as he walked into the room, hesitation obvious in his movements. "Are you still sure..."

"Kurt," Blaine's expression softened and a blush crept into his cheeks. "I've been wanting to ask you out for longer than you can imagine. I'm sorry it took us... that to get here."

"Hey, no." Kurt lifted a hand to Blaine's face and tried to smooth out the crease on Blaine's forehead. "No worrying or thinking too much tonight, okay?"

"I just, I can't help thinking." The sparkle in Blaine's eyes dimmed. "It was Sam, I feel like I should've noticed something was happening. We were close since college, even before that, and I can't believe I didn't realize..."

"It's not your fault, Blaine," Kurt said quietly but firmly, "None of us ever wants to think people we are close to are capable of evil."

"I could've lost you before I had a chance..."

"You didn't, though." Kurt's eyes glistened thanks to the screens illuminating the room. "You saved me instead."

Blaine's sigh filled the room, and Kurt felt his breathing get steadier when they reached for each other's hands and laced their fingers together.

"Now," Kurt said as he tugged on Blaine's arm gently, "let me woo you, Mr. Anderson, as a thanks for being my hero."

"Lead the way, Agent Hummel; I'll follow you."