A PHASE IN TIME (BUT I NEVER SAW YOU COMING)

Note: The title is based off of the song 'State of Grace' by Taylor Swift.

On YouTube, I watched closely on [Nolan] and [Grant] performing in songs such as 'Dark Side' and 'Live While We're Young'. It was just so amazing - I swear that the Warblers are always mind-blowing. And the footwork in 'Whistle'? Particularly at 1:17, when they do that foot twist (camera zooms on Ryker). Choreography is in synch, and interesting to watch.

So, this story takes place in a episode that might replace the steroids one or whatever. I mean, I just don't want Hunter to go away because he is really vital to the plot. So that makes this kind of AU. Blaine is still at Mckinley, and Huner is still Captain of the Warblers.

"Love is a ruthless game unless you play it good and right"

Chapter One

It was unbelievable how Sebastian Smythe turned out like this. He could almost say that it happened too quickly, but that would be a lie. At this moment, it didn't feel fast. It felt like time was slowing down, so all he could do was absorb the pain until it was bearable. Tears ran down his face, and skin frozen numb from the Winter air. He wondered what was more humiliating - to let someone overpower him or someone see him like this.

His skin was so pale it almost matched the snow, and his hands pressed against the alleyway wall as a man began to break him roughly, not caring if it hurt. Usually Sebastian would be the dominant one - the one who wasn't in a vulnerable state. And of course, it would be all consent. Not like this.

"Don't," the man said gruffly, as Sebastian tried to escape again. The tone carried authority, which was much different than the one he used in Scandals. It was probably all an act.

"No," Sebastian whimpered, already hating how his voice came out shaky. He felt nails dig into his hips, as if a warning, and he hissed. There were already welts on his back, as the person - Quentin (if that was even his name) - attempted a warning with a belt. He knew by now that he looked like a mess.

"You're such a fucking little slut - you think that you're better than me?" Quentin yanked Sebastian by the hair, slamming his face against the wall. The brunet grunted, but didn't say anything. The other hand grasped his left leg, and yanked him against the ground. There was a laugh. "Bitch. Why don't you fucking go away?"

Sebastian tried to move, but his body was almost immobile. His muscles felt weak, and his throat burned with resistance against crying. "S-S -" Stop. With effort, he managed to close his eyes as a blow delivered against his side.

"Fucking shit. Fuck you."

"Hey! Stop it, you're hurting him!" A voice shouted.

Ah, oh god. Sebastian tried to cover himself, but couldn't. His limbs were useless at the moment, only reminding the sharp pain traveling through whenever there was movement.

Quentin sneered, but seemed to hesitate, eyeing to see if he could take the newcomer "Fine, you can have the bitch."

After Quentin was gone, the stranger went to Sebastian's side and kneeled down. "Oh no. Oh no. Sebastian! W-What? Okay, don't worry. I'll help -" Frantic warm hands felt Sebastian's pulse.

Sebastian wondered how this person knew his name, but paused, realising that it was someone who knew him. He struggled to open his eyes, and stared into brown ones. This was even worse. If it was Blaine, at least he'll be sympathetic. Instead, it was Hunter Clarington.

Hunter didn't look amused at all, though, or even angry. It was unreadable, his lips pressed into a grim line. He shrugged off his coat, and wrapped it around Sebastian's shoulders. "Can you get up? We need to get you to the hospital."

"I'm not dying," Sebastian said, but his voice came out scratchy so the dry humour was lost.

"You could get frostbite, or . . . or . . ." Hunter scanned at Sebastian's clothes lying in the snow. "I think you need to give up on them. Uh, I'll ask people inside if they have a blanket or something. Don't leave, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." As if I could even move. Sebastian felt humiliated. He looked so pathetic and helpless. What if Hunter told the Warblers? Either they'll think Sebastian was weak, or laugh, thinking he deserve it. He wondered if Hunter was even coming back. Although it was obvious of the indifference between them, they were both Warblers so . . . he'd get help. The assurance was not completely there, though.

He scrambled to his hands and knees, ignoring his body's protests, as he retrieved his clothes. As he struggled to put them on, the damp clothing far too uncomfortable, Hunter finally raced out the back door.

"I told you not to move!"

"You t-t-told me not to leave," Sebastian corrected.

"Are you always like this?" Realising his mistake, Hunter quickly amended, "So . . . stubborn?"

"You mean trying to live? Yeah. I mean, being nice to my rapist is an option, but . . ." Sebastian looked down, trying not to think of the event. Damn, I don't want to cry in front of HIM. It was really cold, so it bothered him instead.

"Sorry, I didn't mean -" Hunter placed the folded blanket on his lap, as he knelt down, helping Sebastian take off the wet clothes.

Sebastian almost wanted to make a joke at this, especially at Hunter's past statement: "I'm not even remotely bi-curious" but felt that it was not the right thing to say. For once, any brusque insult that would deliver in his mind was blank. Once a blanket was wrapped around him, Hunter led him to the red parked Chevy.

Maybe he was far too tired, but Sebastian never asked what Hunter was doing outside of Scandals.