A/N: If it wasn't obvious already, this fanfic? AU. Really, really, reeeeeally AU. Secondly, this is sci-fi. It's set a little over 50 years in the future and contains fantastical elements like superhuman abilities. So, AU? Check. Sci-fi? Check. Action? Check. I hope I still have your attention. Also, I'm not going to go into much detail on the plot and what I have planned out, since all of that will be revealed during the story. This story's going to be rated M for violence, action, and the eventual smut. In essence, while it ismore action-oriented than most of the stuff in the Glee fandom, it's still a romance.

These characters, as always, aren't mine. (Well, not all of them. Some of them are.) They belong to Fox and the fiends that inhabit their writer's pit.

And, last but not least, enjoy! Extra special thanks to my beta, Wally, for being amazing and encouraging. I'm taking a huge leap of faith by posting this and am hoping that it'll be well-received!

Lying on the ground surrounded by the garbled sound of traffic and arms he couldn't see was the very last place Kurt Hummel wanted to be.

The Blackness was, in essence, very dark. Its name was cliche, but what else would you call something like this? In some hospital on some coast or country he'd never been to, there might have been a more scientific term for the illness, but that name was no more accurate than what it was called on the streets. No one suspected it was anything more than a migraine until the first person dropped.

Now it was hitting Kurt in waves. They'd just barely escaped. Their brushes with the authorities were getting closer and closer, and this one was a single turned corner away from having to run even harder, even faster. While Blaine might have managed sprinting at that point, he couldn't. Only when Kurt stopped cold in his tracks and pawed for Blaine's arm did the other boy realize something was wrong.

"It's okay," Blaine whispered to him as his body trembled. Muscles twitched and jerked. Fingers that were balled into fists spread and folded inward again, blunt nails digging into his soft palms. His shoulder jammed into Blaine's sternum, causing him to gasp and nearly let go, but his arms just wrapped around Kurt tighter. "Just relax. Quinn said you just have to ride it out. You'll be okay. We're okay."

Kurt wanted to tell him that relaxing was easier said than done, but he couldn't speak. His tongue felt three times its usual size, and his head was a spinning amalgamation of colors he couldn't have named even if he tried.

This didn't happen often. This was the first time since they'd left the compound, but not the first time Blaine watched as one of the Testers crumbled. He saw grown men who were no more than huge masses of muscle fall to their knees or just collapse. He saw women of thirty or more crying like little girls and clutching their heads. They were miserable when they weren't on the top of the food chain, and for the longest time, Blaine was ecstatic that he was lucky enough to not be a part of the program.

There were deaths every now and then. Accidents happened. Someone would lash out in anger and throw one of their peers against the wall. Beneath the soft, organic cushioning that padded the exercise and practice chambers was nothing but metal. If it wasn't the accidents, the Blackness was another suspect. All it took was falling unconscious in the exact wrong spot, and they were dead. Sometimes they just disappeared.

Kurt had almost disappeared.

One of the scientists working with the Testers - a young, blonde woman named Quinn - managed to divert the paperwork that would send the telekinetic towards termination. There was only so much the project's scientists could do. When the symptoms became too strong, when they were almost crippling, terminating the Tester was often the quickest, easiest way out. It also saved them from the collateral damage of when he did finally snap.

As anyone who came into contact with Kurt would have, Quinn grew attached. She liked talking to him. She enjoyed watching him as his powers ballooned past expectations. And she was there when his body started rejecting the changes, when everything was too much and it was like his brain was trying to tear itself to shreds.

Much like it was doing now. When they were just running, the symptoms were mild. Headaches unfurled at the backs of his eyes and nausea rolled through his stomach, giving him chills that caused goosebumps to rise on his arms. But this was so much worse.

Today, they'd learned that the larger of the two men following them was a Tester. His ability was physical, which was the first clue. Testers' abilities branched out farther than the ones the Innates possessed. He was stronger and more resilient than even Kurt. And when Kurt curled his fingers in the air with the fire escape in his sights, nearly tearing it off of the building as he forced it down upon the man, it only made him stronger.

That was when they knew they had to run, and after tossing pieces of broken metal railing at the smaller, more agile of the two following them, he began to feel the tremors.

Everything was burning now. Minutes after Kurt pulled Blaine down on the ground beside him, every muscle in his body felt like it was on fire. While this was a sign that the Blackness was ebbing, the pain was almost impossible to fight through. He felt like he was drowning, like he was being pulled into the cement only to have the heaviness of it crush him.

Gasping, Kurt's face fell into the curve of Blaine's shoulder, jaw hanging loose enough to let a broken whimper escape. No matter how many times he told himself it would be over soon, whatever lay in the future didn't lessen what was currently happening to his body. He would just have to wait. Wait and wait until he could stand up again, when his muscles weren't cramping and when his head didn't feel as if it was splitting down between his brows. And even when the Blackness was gone, nothing was ever permanent. This pain would be back the moment he pushed himself too hard.

He could hear Blaine murmuring, but the sound was too faint. He could also feel the barest hint of a tender touch on his elbow, but the pressure wasn't enough to be comforting.

Kurt wasn't sure how long he sat there with his face buried in the synthetic fabric of Blaine's top, but the burning lessened and the tension that wrapped every muscle began to relax. After taking a deep, but shaken breath and opening his eyes, he pulled himself up. He was trembling; his even paler than usual complexion marred with splotches of bright red and a sheen of sweat.

While Blaine's face reflected obvious tones of relief and lingering concern, the light in Kurt's blue eyes was one of sharp paranoia. "We ha-ave to go," he muttered. He fumbled with his words, pressing his swollen lips together in a thin line of frustration as he struggled to stand only to have Blaine hold him in place. "Let go." There was a note of pleading in his voice. "They'll catch up. We have to get out - get out of here."

"And go where?" Blaine's thick brows flattened, a wrinkle forming between them. His hypothetical question was soft, but firm, much like the hold he had on Kurt. "Don't you think I would know if we were going to get caught?"

"I think you couldn't see your hand if you held it out too far in front of your face."

Kurt's quick retort had Blaine blinking in surprise, but even as he recovered from the shock of having that very hand bitten when he reached out, he didn't let go. "Are you always like this? After...?"

The brunette scoffed, hips and shoulders wriggling in an attempt to get free. When he finally managed it, his back hit the slick metallic wall of the building beside him, and he let out a low-pitched whine. "It depends," Kurt replied with a huff, drawing his legs up closer to his chest. He knew if he tried to stand up right then, he'd only fall back down. The last thing he needed right then was to have Blaine see him fail at something so basic. He could only take so much humiliation in one day, and he'd already spent a solid fifteen minutes clutching to him like a scared kid.

Blaine sat back on his feet, the soft soles of his shoes pressing up into the backs of his thighs. "I just - I know I'm not as good at this as I should be, but I'm trying. Quinn wouldn't have sent me with you if she didn't think I could handle what's happening."

"Or maybe she thought you'd be the last one they'd care enough to look for." Biting on his bottom lip, Kurt rested his chin on his knee, his mouth resting against his forearm. He was being insensitive, and he knew it. But he didn't need this. He didn't need Blaine's sympathy or his understanding. What he needed was to either disappear or convince the goons following them that he wouldn't cause any trouble.

Blaine's eyes fell to his hands, watching his fingers as they laced and unlaced. The pads of them brushed against his pants, thumbs curling around each other. "That's not true," he said, voice raising slightly despite the reserved inward slouch of his shoulders. "My parents would be concerned. My father's a benefactor for the program; Quinn's at risk of losing her job for this."

"Great," Kurt interrupted with a whisper. "I doubt her job is the only thing she'll be losing in that case."

The look on Blaine's face was an almost feral kind of innocence when he jerked his chin up to look into Kurt's eyes. "Don't say that." There was no denying the boy's suddenly authoritative tone, and Kurt shrugged, looking down the alleyway instead. "She did this for you. The least you could do is be thankful for that."

"Iam thankful," Kurt pressed. He could feel a warmth flooding up the back of his neck, skin flushing darker in both anger and frustration. How could one person be so intelligent yet so emotionally stupid? "It's just difficult to put on a happy face when we're being chased by a behemoth and his puppeteer, okay? I can barely access my ability without that happening, and you're less than useless when it comes to an actual fight. Excuse me if I panic."

"We're both useless, Kurt, but we have our strengths." Blaine smoothed his palms over his thighs, tracing the line of Kurt's sight down the alleyway. He'd always heard that it's easier to get lost in a city than in the middle of nowhere. Those were Quinn's instructions. Take Kurt to New York City and wait until she could figure out how to help him. She said she was close to a breakthrough, but she told him not to wait around until she hit it for fear of how long it might take in the same breath. They were meant to hide and hide well, survive as best they could without drawing attention to themselves, and wait it out.

Blaine had access to a personal account, and he withdrew the largest amount he could before displacing it into a separate account Quinn had one of her close friends set up. With that money, he and Kurt could survive for months. They just had to be careful.

"I can see enough to know where to go. That can be helpful if we run into them again," he continued, reaching out to rest a hand on Kurt's forearm. "And as long as you don't do too much, you're... really strong."

"This wouldn't happen if I could sleep," Kurt admitted with a wet sigh, lifting his forearm off of his knees and nudging Blaine's hand away to scrub his palm over his face. "It gets worse when I'm tired. I've been on medication for my headaches for the past few weeks, but I can't rely on that now. So I haven't been taking them. I'll run out, and then they'll be even worse." Swallowing thickly, he let his arm fall again, looking at Blaine with a frown. "Can we just... find somewhere? To sleep? There's got to be somewhere that won't bother taking our names."

Blaine pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth for a moment before nodding. "We should stick to the sidewalks. There might be somewhere downtown... shady enough to take cash without an identification bracelet."

"Fantastic," Kurt said as he turned over onto his knees and stood. He ground his teeth together at the sharp pains that sparked through his muscles at the sudden movement. Stretching his arms above his head, he rolled onto the balls of his feet and slammed his eyes shut as his body forced itself to work through the increasing soreness. It would be worse if he stayed still. "We get this far only to be robbed and murdered in downtown Brooklyn."

"It was only a suggestion."

"And I was only working out my annoyance at my unfortunate situation through self-deprecating humor," Kurt told him, rolling his head to the side to watch him stand. "Get used to it. It's one of my many attractive features along with crippling headaches and the ability to crush things with my brain." Blaine's narrowed eyes only told him that he didn't fully understand if he was still joking or not. Sighing again, Kurt reached over and nudged his forearm, head tilting in the direction of the sidewalk. "Let's find this seedy hotel, shall we? If we're going to run into those two again, I really need to get some rest."

They left as quickly as their feet could take them, merging into the crowd without any trouble, which was the reaction the two runaways had received on a wide scale. Ever since stepping off of the train, they'd been moving at a quick pace for no foreseen reason. Blaine reached out now and again, turning them away from the authorities while they were blocks away, and they were so very careful.

But the truth of the matter was that not a single policeman in the entire city was looking for them. Their names weren't flagged. No one around them cared save for the two men on their tail, the scientists who'd poured so much time and effort into their training, and the project head.

To a little over three dozen people, their return meant everything. To millions, they were nothing but two young men.

No one knew their face. No one knew that they were nothing but lost experiments that were to be returned. And no one knew that they were being hunted. Quietly.