I'm not overly happy with this one, but it took about an hour to write. It doesn't really have a back story or anything. Just dramatized drabble about Kurt escaping from Dalton, anyway, hope you like it =) It's Kurtofsky, don't like, don't read.

Disclaimer:- I don't own Glee or any of it's characters. If I did, I wouldn't be suffocating at the lack of knowing what's going to happen.

Hurry up superbowl episode! I'm dying here!

Escape

Sirens screamed, strobe lights flashed and people yelled. Running footsteps everywhere. All background noise, drowning out his own panicked breathing. Kurt Hummel dodged around a corner and pressed back against the elegant wooden wall. Trying desperately to calm his breathing and clutching his messenger bag, Kurt froze, straining his ears to hear above the wailing of the alarms. Voices called out to each other. Searching.

"Where is he?"

"Did you see him?"

"Which way did he go?"

They were coming closer. Kurt wrenched himself away from the wall and took off down the hallway. Left turn, straight ahead, past the blue picture, second door on the right. "And straight on 'till morning." Kurt muttered to himself, coming to a stop. He was tired, but anyone could see the determination in his eyes as he stared at the silver grill covering the air vent. He was Kurt Hummel. Nothing and no one could stop him. And there was no way he was going to be anybody's little yes-sir-boy-toy. Setting his jaw in a determined line, he dragged a nearby bench under the grill and hoisted himself up. It took some work, and as the grill came free it slipped from his fingers, clattering loudly to the floor.

The voices in the distance stopped for a moment, then came louder and closer. Kurt swore and scrambled upwards, vanishing into the vent just as three boys in identical uniforms raced into his hallway.

Kurt manoeuvred through the vent system as fast as he could, following the blueprints he's memorised. Just a little further.

"He's in the vents! Heading for the roof!" he heard the boys behind him report. Walkie-talkies crackled an indecipherable response. "Yes Blaine, we're on it."

Shit! Kurt scrambled faster. Finally, he felt the cool night air of freedom. Turning towards it, the countertenor kicked another grill out of his way and jumped out onto the impeccable rooftops of Dalton Academy. In the distance, over the sounds of bellowing alarms, he could here a helicopter approaching. He had to run.

Bounding into action, he sprinted across the rooftops, heading steadily towards the sound of rotor blades. It wasn't here yet, he had to buy time. Suddenly, hatches opened in the roof all around him, Warbler in matching uniforms climbing out in unison.

"Oh come on." Kurt said. "That doesn't even make sense!" he ran, dodging grasping hands and moving faster. The chopper was hovering over the building now, coming in for a landing. He could make out a smiling dark face at the controls now, the pilot sending Kurt a grinning salute as he looked for a place to land. Kurt flipped Azimio off as he fled for the chopper, and freedom. Suddenly a hand managed to get a grip on his jacket and the singer went down, hitting the floor hard. Hands descended on him from all sides, grabbing at his clothes and arms, pulling him to his feet. The Warblers slowly, but surely dragged the struggling boy backward, away from the hovering machine.

Suddenly, the door of the chopper opened and, like an avenging angel, Kurt's hero leapt into the fray. Dave Karofsky pushed, shoved, punched and, in a few cases, bodily picked up and threw, Warblers out of his way, until he could grab his boyfriend's arm and pull him to safety. Private school boys went flying, still trying to prevent the larger teen from leaving with their prize. Dave and Kurt fought their way to the helicopter, climbing into the cabin and screaming at Azimio to Move It!

Finally safe, finally together, the two teenagers held each other close. Each terrified that the other would disappear in a cloud of smoke. Each committing the sent and feel of the other to memory. The adrenaline receded and their breathing slowed, but they didn't let go. Eventually, Kurt managed to open his eyes and turn his head away from Dave's chest, though he wouldn't release his grip on the other boy. He looked out of the still open door at the 'school', if it could be called that. Though it was quickly retreating into the distance, he could swear he saw a figure, standing alone on the broad rooftop. A dark haired boy, watching the helicopter escaping into the night. A cold, calm gaze, following Kurt away.

The small teen shuddered and buried his face back against his boyfriend's chest.

Dave slowly stroked Kurt's hair and back, gently soothing the boy.

"It's alright Kurt. It's over. You're out. You're safe now. It's going to be okay."

The smaller boy breathed deeply and nodded. He was safe. He was going home.

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