In a small room dimly lit by yellowed fluorescent lights, the two of them sat. They were on opposite sides of the room with their wrists and ankles bound, their mouths gagged with sweaty cloth, but their eyes stayed locked. Filled with fear and a few tears, vibrant blue stayed locked on warm hazel.

"What's going on?" Kurt thought. Then, out of a darkened corner, a man in a mask stepped into view. He was unrecognizable and held a knife in his hand that glinted under the dull light. He walked over to Blaine, whose gaze was still locked on Kurt's.

"You think he loves you?" The large man said suddenly, causing Kurt to jump. He was leaning towards Blaine's face. When Blaine did nothing to respond, didn't even blink, he grew angry. "I said," he yelled. "Do you think he loves you?" He pressed the blade against Blaine's neck. A scream bubbled up in Kurt's throat and he sobbed through his gag.

"No, no, no, please, no," Kurt thought, kicking and flailing to try and free himself.

"Quiet, faggot," the man spat at Kurt. "I'm talking to your faggy little husband." He turned his attention back to Blaine. "Now, I'm going to take off your gag. You won't scream, or else you'll get to watch your little 'soulmate' literally be torn from the inside, out. You don't want that, do you? Nod if you understand."

Only when the sharp blade pointed at Blaine's pulse point backed away did Blaine nod. The man sliced off Blaine's gag with one smooth cut, though Blaine winced when the blade caught his cheek slightly and drew a little blood.

The man chuckled darkly. "Right. So, Blaine, is it? I do believe I asked you a question. Do you think he loves you?" He asked again.

Silence.

"Please, Blaine," Kurt thought as the man brought the knife back to Blaine's throat. "Say something, anything."

"Answer me," the man snapped. "Now."

When the cold metal of the knife touched Blaine's throat softly, not making a cut but still so obviously there, Blaine choked out a "yes". The knife withdrew and Blaine curled in on himself in tears and shaky sobs.

The man smiled darkly. "I like playing games with you," he smirked. Blaine's body shook in fear. "I wonder if your little huzzy is the same way. It's a shame you won't live to see me have my fun with him."

Kurt made a muffled noise of distress, trying to get his thoughts across. "Why. Why are you doing this. Why us. Why him first. Why?"

"Do you love him?" The man asked, pulling Kurt from his thoughts. Blaine's head flew up.

"Yes," he whispered. Of course he did.

"Why?" The man asked, clearly disgusted.

"He's my everything," Blaine said simply. He looked over at Kurt, who was watching the whole scene and using every ounce of strength he had to stay quiet.

"He doesn't love you," the man said in a monotonus voice.

"That's not true!" Blaine cried.

"Shut up!" The man said, slapping Blaine's face hard with his free hand. "I never asked you what you think. It doesn't matter."

Blaine's eyes widened. "I know he loves me. He does. We're soulmates," he managed.

"Didn't I just tell you to shut the hell up?" The man yelled. "I say he doesn't love you, and considering how much power I have over you right now, you shouldn't be disagreeing with me." He looked at Kurt, who seemed to be paralyzed. "You don't love him, do you, homo? I'd bet you hate him."

Kurt shook his head violently and screamed again. I love him. Since the day we met. Always have. Always will. Please stop.

"If he loved you, he would have stopped this. He wouldn't have let this happen," the man said darkly.

"Stop what?" Kurt thought. The knife raised again, this time more defiantly, and inched towards Blaine's throat. "Oh god, no. Stop, please, I love him. Please, no."

"Stop wha-" Blaine mimicked Kurt's thoughts but froze when the blade touched his skin in a way that was so soft, but so torturous at the same time. He gasped, and his eyes flicked to Kurt again. The usually very calm, reserved man that he knew as his husband was still seeing everything through the tears in his eyes. He looked back at the man. "Please," he whispered. "I love him. There's so much we haven't done together. We're supposed to have a kid next month. A girl, named Sophia. Please, you don't want to do this. Can't you find it in your heart to-"

Blaine was cut off by crude, psychotic laughter. The blade pressed harder against Blaine's throat and drew a little blood.

Kurt screamed loudly and kicked at the ground. No. Stop. Please stop. Blaine's eyes screwed up in pain and he cried out as the blade pushed deeper and deeper into his throat, and crimson began to stain Blaine's skin and clothes...

------

Kurt woke with a start and fell out of the bed from being so tangled in the covers he was flailing in. He hit the ground with an audible thud and a painful moan.

"Kurt?" Blaine's concerned voice came from on top of the bed. "Kurt, baby, are you okay?"

Kurt's chest was still heaving as he jumped quickly onto the bed and into Blaine's arms. Blaine was there and he was safe and...it was a dream. It was just a dream and he couldn't help that hot tears spilled from his eyes and he began to sob against Blaine's warm neck.

"Baby, please, what's wrong?" Blaine asked again, sounding more worried. "You kept kicking in your sleep which is normal for you but then you screamed and you kept saying 'no' and 'please' and I think I heard my name and I'm worried now and I'm going to stop talking now." He tilted Kurt's chin up so they were looking at each other before thumbing away the tears and kissing the soft, damp skin. "I'm sorry, I just- I'm just scared," Blaine finished.

Kurt took a deep shaky breath. "It was just a night terror," he mumbled. "I'm okay now, we can go back to sl-"

"It wasn't just anything, and I know it. You're never this bad, even when you've had bad dreams before," Blaine cut in. He ran his Hans soothingly through Kurt's hair before settling on playing with the soft locks at the nape of his neck.

Kurt sighed and leaned into Blaine's soft touch and explained his night terror. He told Blaine about the man, how he kept teasing dream-Blaine with the knife, and before he could stop them, more tears were falling and he wasn't breathing properly. Blaine held him in his arms tightly, rubbing Kurt's back.

"I just," Kurt sputtered after a while. "If felt so...It felt so real, you know? I thought you were- but you're here. I was so scared." He clung desperately to Blaine and pressed his wet cheek against Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine turned his head and turned to kiss Kurt's hair softly. "It's okay," he whispered, squeezing Kurt tighter in his arms. "I've got you. I'm here. I'm always here. It's okay."

"Thank you," Kurt said quietly. He pulled away from Blaine enough to look him in the eye before kissing him sweetly on the cheek.

Blaine's lips quirked upwards in a small smile. "You don't have to thank me. This is why I'm here. Do you wanna try and go back to sleep?" Blaine asked when Kurt had calmed significantly and was starting to yawn again. When Kurt nodded slowly, they both laid back down and Blaine pulled the blankets over them before spooning Kurt's back. He wrapped his arm around Kurt's side and their fingers across the taller of the two's stomach. Blaine was sure that Kurt had already fallen back asleep, but his melodic voice cutting the silence said otherwise.

"So I seriously usually kick in my sleep?"

Blaine laughed lightly. "Yes, and it hurts. You've left bruises," he replied

"And here I thought your occasional limp was from our mind-blowing sex life!" Kurt exclaimed in mock-horror, and Blaine could hear the smile on his face.

"Our sex life is mind-blowing?" Blaine teased. He almost kept his cool, but ended up laughing in spite of himself.

"Go to sleep, asshole," Kurt cackled, snuggling closer into Blaine.

"I love you."

"I love you, too"