Dave woke up with the sense that his dreams from last night were still a fog around him. He couldn't remember them clearly but they'd been unpleasant, dreams of being chased by something that he didn't think he could escape. The foreboding stayed with him as he showered and dressed, distracting him enough that he was glad he didn't have any tests or practice today.

At school, that weird Brittany chick came up to him and said that he needed to think about what he really wanted and that he should try to stop wanting to destroy what he wanted. He shook it off but it was damn creepy, when she talked in that flat voice as though she could see right through him and knew that he wanted Hummel and fuck the consequences.

Dave fingered the roofies in his pocket and joined Finn in urging Kurt to have another slice of pizza. He'd started the idea in Hudson's head of having a joint party for the football team, Cheerios, and Glee and he, Kurt, Quinn, Mike, and Finn had offered to be designated drivers. Every other time, he hated watching Blaine getting all horny and handsy with Kurt, but now he didn't have to pretend to be snickering as the hobbit named all the things that he loved less than he loved his boyfriend. He knew what nobody else knew. This would be the last time the midget would touch what didn't belong to him.

″I love my boyfriend even more than I love Katie Perry!″ Blaine announced.

″Finn, do you love me more than Blaine loves Katie Perry?″ Girl hobbit was clinging onto Hudson and looking up at him.

″Yeah, Rach, of course. Uh, could I have my hand back?″ She'd decided that his hand was like a little baby rabbit and wrapped a wooly scarf around it. Weirdo.

He leaned over to Kurt and stage-whispered, ″See if you can get Blaine to make that part of your wedding vows, to love you more than Katie Perry for life.″

Kurt laughed. ″I'm not sure he'd say it again when he's completely sober.″

″He wouldn't be the first groom who headed down the aisle sloshed. My cousin did that at the rehearsal, grabbed the two bridesmaids in a group hug, said, 'I love you guys, you are the best bros a man could ever have,' insisted that they go crash another wedding and be like the other couple's emergency backup, and then tossed his cookies.″ He shook his head. ″That was a wedding that nearly didn't happen.″

″I love my boyfriend. I love him more than Harry Potter. I love him more than anybody loves Harry Potter!″

Kurt extricated himself from Blaine to get himself another Diet Coke. Hudson advised him to get Blaine another water to fight the hangover early, since otherwise the guy stood no chance at all. It was perfect. Puckerman was at the drinks table and insisted on opening Kurt's can for him, showing off that he could do it with his tongue alone. Evans laughed and put the can on the table, returning with a wet paper towel to wipe it down. Kurt shrugged and said, ″If this wasn't the last one, I'd never dream of drinking it,″ and took a swig. When he came back to the couch, it was so easy for Dave to lean over so nobody else could see and drop a pill in the can. Once he saw that Kurt was drinking and didn't notice anything, he went to the bathroom and flushed the rest of the pills.

A few minutes later, Kurt started to droop and Blaine started to complain that Kurt was going to sleep without a lullaby and asking everybody to help him sing one. When he and Rachel started arguing over while one, Dave met Hudson's eyes and frowned. ″Is Kurt sick or what? He didn't say anything.″

″No, this is weird, you think he's okay?″

Dave let his hand linger on Kurt's neck as he felt for the pulse, and on his face as he felt his forehead with the back of his hand. Kurt mumbled something and brushed at his hand. ″Dude, I think somebody-″ He lumbered to his feet and over to the stereo, which he turned off, provoking a bunch of protests and questions. He planted himself firmly and said, into the silence that followed, ″I think somebody slipped Hummel something.″ He let them say whatever stupid things they wanted to say and then continued. ″It's not funny and if anybody was planning anything, that's not right. Not right at all.″ He looked down as though he felt embarrassed and went back to the couch. ″Hey, why don't you take him home, make sure that he's okay, I can take care of all the other rides.″

It was just perfect. Hudson nodded and Blaine started whining that the party was no fun without Kurt and he wanted to go home with Kurt. Hudson pushed him back down by the head like he was a noisy puppy and Dave shrugged. ″I'll run him home now. He's had more than enough, anyway, don't want him passing out.″ He turned to Blaine. ″All right, Blaine, I'll take you home, Finn takes Kurt home.″ Blaine actually pouted and then said, ″Okay, you're my friend now.″

″Yeah, that's right, I'm your friend, I'll take you home.″ In his car, once Blaine finished singing the alphabet song, he handed Blaine a water bottle filled with Everclear, and Blaine drank thirstily. ″I like this water.″

″I bet you do.″ As if Blaine was determined to make things easy, he drank again and then subsided against the window.

During the ride, Dave reviewed the rest of his plan. Blaine had said that his parents were out of town again. He'd take him home, bring him inside, and set up a fall down the stairs or a bathroom fall, whichever would be most likely to kill him. He'd be devastated that Blaine had gotten out of the bed where he had left him to sleep it off and managed to have a terrible accident in the empty house.

Then he'd be the one to comfort Kurt. If Kurt refused the kind of comfort Dave had in mind, then he'd switch to Plan B. After all, the basement was all ready for him, too.

He'd taken a lot of trouble over it. He'd already refurbished a house that had mostly cosmetic damage and used the money from that, plus some of his savings, to buy outright a foreclosed two-flat. The first floor was done and so was the basement.

It even looked perfectly innocent. Nobody would know that he planned it so that somebody with a five-foot chain around his ankle would have no electrical outlet or anything else he could harm himself with within reach, but could watch the television, listen to the radio, or play games with the equipment across the room. There would be books within reach, too, but no bookcase or any heavy furniture he could pull onto himself or push onto Dave. The remotes would be inside a case so he could push the buttons but not extricate and swallow the batteries.

If Hummel disappeared after Blaine's death, everybody would write it off as a suicide. He'd even made a hidden spot inside the wall where he could temporarily drug and hide Kurt if there were any suspicions. Kurt had been there offering decorating tips and that would explain any fingerprints there.

He'd really thought of everything.

Brittany lay back on the bed with a repleted sigh. Santana was so sweet when they were making love and she felt like she were floating in a warm, still ocean. She stretched out with all of her senses, but now, she felt a frightening void around her, one coming from the invisible world. She reached out to reassure herself that Kurt was all right and she saw that the chain was heavier yet. She dashed out, pulling her skirt back on and carrying her top in her hands.

″Where's Kurt?″ she demanded, and when Puck kept staring and not answering, she grabbed Quinn.

″Finn took him home. Wait, you aren't the one who roofied him, are you?″

″He's with Finn? But Finn never helped him, except that one time when he tricked him. And that was because Finn knew where he was hiding.″ Quinn took the top from Brittany's hands and pulled it over her head, so Brittany looked around more while her eyes were covered. ″Where's Blaine, why isn't he with Kurt?″

″Oh, Karofsky's taking him home.″ Quinn explained. ″He was already half-trashed.″

″But Karofsky shouldn't be alone with him, not while he still wants Kurt.″

″Brit, this isn't as much fun, let's go back to bed,″ Santana urged her, but Brittany stared around the room.

″No, I'm scared he's going to hurt Blaine. Blaine wasn't always Kurt's boyfriend, sometimes he just tried to help him, but it's bad to have him alone with Blaine.″ She shook her head to clear it. ″Quinn, I need your car keys, I've got to go find them.″

″It's okay, Brittany, everything's okay, Karofsky doesn't want to hurt Kurt any more and he and Kurt and Blaine are friends,″ Quinn tried to soothe her.

″No!″ she screamed. Mike heard her and came over, looking alarmed. ″We've got to go get them, to stop him.″

Quinn put a hand on Mike's arm, ″It's okay, she thinks that Dave is going to hurt Blaine, for some reason. She's just being Brittany.″

″You're saying that like it's a bad thing,″ Santana spat. ″Well, if Brittany says that Dave is going to hurt Blaine, then he's going to hurt Blaine, if I have to scratch his eyes out to make him do it. And you're going to help me, Quinn. Puckerman, get your ass over here, we're all going to Blaine's house.″

Dave dragged Blaine out of the car and fumbled for his keys. Blaine kept going limp so Dave propped him against the car while he searched his pockets. His own hands were shaking a little but he found them, opened the door, and pulled Blaine inside.

He looked around and saw that his luck was continuing, as if this time, everything was going the way it was supposed to. This pretentious house had the perfect staircase, with stone stairs and two sharp turns. He hauled Blaine up those exact stairs, with their hard edges and the thick wooden railing.

He found Blaine's bedroom on the first try, another sign that it was all going to work out for him and Kurt. Hell, he could even imagine Kurt burying his face in his chest, crying over the tragic accident, while he stroked Kurt's back and even his hair, saying all the right things. Then, one of those times, Kurt would look up at him, those sea-change eyes framed by wet lashes, and Karofsky would get his real kiss, the one that belonged to him for years.

It was best to keep thinking of that as he peeled Blaine's jacked off and folded it neatly, supporting Blaine with the other arm, and then pushed him carefully onto the bed. He took Blaine's shoes off and put them side by side a distance from the bed, and took the blanket folded at the end of the bed and tucked it over him.

Now it was time to create the accident. He went to the kitchen, found a water glass, and swirled water around in it. He took it up, pressed it to Blaine's lower lip, put it on the bedside table, then wrapped Blaine's hand around it. He'd gotten up, gone for more water, and fallen.

He yanked Blaine to his feet, walked him to the head of the stairs, and paused. He was really going to do this. It would all be worth it.

It will all be worth it, he told himself again. Hell, prep boy was even getting off easy this time, Dave wasn't even going to teach him a lesson about not touching what doesn't belong to him, not fucking what doesn't belong to him.

He took another deep breath and pushed.

He didn't even know that he'd closed his eyes until he reopened them. Damn, Blaine was caught on the first turn. Dave hadn't pushed hard enough, for fear of leaving a tell-tale bruise, and Blaine had been so limp that he went down on his backside. Hell, that'd leave only a few bruises. He hurried down and Blaine's eyes blinked open.

″You pushed me,″ he whined. ″You're being mean again and you pushed me.″

″Shut up,″ Dave growled, and hauled him to his feet again by the shirt. This time, he pushed him slowly but firmly, and Blaine tumbled down the next set of stairs head first, but broke his fall with his hands. Dave could hear something crack and Blaine yelped in pain. Dave followed him down and hauled up up again by the shoulder. ″Why don't you just die?″ he demanded. ″Once you're dead, I have my chance with him, like I'm supposed to have. It's all his fault and your fault, not mine!″

This time, he nearly threw him down the remaining stairs. At the bottom, he'd slam the little thief's head into the hard floor and if that didn't work, break his neck. Why did everything have to go wrong and be so difficult now?

He realized that he was actually crying. ″Why couldn't he see that he belongs with me, he belongs to me? But no, he always had to look down his nose at me, and then you had to show up, all Mr. Perfect Dream Boyfriend, all out and not chubby and not going to be bald by the time you're thirty and all flirting with him, not even paying enough attention to know when he was falling in love with you,″ he spat.

At the bottom, Blaine scrabbled to get up. ″I'm warning Kurt,″ he growled, like he even had a say. He was trying to get to his feet, but his leg kept giving way under him and he couldn't use his hands well to get leverage. Giving up, he grabbed for his phone, but Karofsky kicked it out of his hands. He dragged Blaine back to the foot of the stairs and yanked his head back by the hair.

″Kurt's mine, he belongs to me, and this time, one way or another, I'm going to have him and he won't get away.″

Then he felt something crashing into him from the side. He caught his balance and turned to see Mike Chang. ″Keep out of this,″ he warned. ″Don't think that I wouldn't kill you, too, he's mine, he's mine!″

He kept repeating this to every single person in that living room , to Brittany, to Santana, to Puckerman, and to the people he didn't know who started coming in a few minutes later. But none of them had the brains or plain decency to let him go on with what he was supposed to do. Not a single one of them.

The full prompt:

The kiss in the locker rooms was not the first time Dave Karofsky forced a kiss on Kurt Hummel. The following death threat was not the first either.

In Prague of 1842, the small but pretty glasz-eyed son of a German-born farmer was menaced by a young local soldier before he finally fled halfway across the state to live with his sister and her husband. He lived only four more years in peace before succumbing to pneumonia at the age of 20...

In Russia 1901, during the reign of Nicholas II, a beautiful glasz-eyed female courtesan was stalked, raped, and held prisoner for two years in the home of a nobleman's son before throwing herself out his fourth floor window to her death. She was 19...

In 1943, Auburn, Maine, a 24 year old fisherman threatens the life of a budding violinist weeks before strangling the glasz-eyed boy at the age of 17. The boy's body was found naked and bruised, but otherwise unmolested. The fisherman's body was found two days later, he'd hung himself...

Kurt's psyche has given him snippets of these lifetimes since he was very young, and it isn't until the kiss (which triggers the flashbacks in more detail in the following weeks/months) that he pieces together the terrifying truth that Dave Karofsky has stalked/raped/killed him over and over and over...

For nearly half of his lifetimes, no matter what face or gender or country he is born in, Karofsky has found him and consequently Kurt was always died before the age of 21.

Kurt immediately works at trying to find a solution to keep the cycle from repeating itself in this lifetime (transferring to Dalton and moving to a whole new house definitely helps). He looks into contacting a psychic/medium to figure out what to do, but he doesn't know the first thing.

What he also doesn't know is that Karofsky has slowly recovered his memories during the summer before season 2, and he is determined to have Kurt.

The final pieces fall into place when Karofsky mutters "those sea change eyes." This exact description is something all the past version of Karofsky have used. Shocked, Kurt demands he repeats what he said, and they both realize the other knows.

Yeah, Karofsky's gonna have to do something about the little prep boy that can't keep his hands off of what doesn't belong to him. And this time, Kurt's not slipping away ever again...