A.N. I am annoyed with myself. I wanted to update 'Misery' before this but this came more naturally. I'll focus on 'Misery' next, that's a promise I make to myself! Also the next update may be delayed as I'll be moving house a week today which will be the fifth different place I've lived in within the last thirteen months. But unlike the times before I actually will not be moving country. Still in Spain for now! The story will mainly take place out at this vacation home introduced in this chapter. In my head it is similar to the gorgeous lochs back home - particularly Loch Lomond but maybe not as big. I know that as you read this you will be like 'What the hell are you guys thinking?! You're ASKING to be killed!' All I'll say is that Finn and Kurt feel overwhelmingly detached from the outside world at this place and their paranoid fear has grown tired over months and months of constant panic. One last thing, fortunately for me so many of you support the idea of Blaine and Sebastian being even bigger A-holes than before and have requested another r*** scene. I'm glad because it was already planned but might have been omitted if people were really against it.

Responses:

Kas221: I'm a part-time Seblaine shipper meaning I LOVE certain fics. I think I like Blaine being in control with everything, even someone like Sebastian. This fic doesn't necessarily ship them together but I like writing scenes where you're led to question if they really are just friends. Blaine touches Sebastian sometimes but I'll try to write some more intimate moments when I can get away with it. :)

Guest: More Sebastian/Finn torture? Well, if you insist! ;) Don't worry, it's in the cards.

DarrenColfer: Do you think if we were in an asylum there would be enough of us to have our own Dark!Klaine unit? That would be freakin' awesome! Wow no, please don't die! I'll be honest I dunno if I could cope with writer's block killing someone - although my Blaine kills enough people generally so that makes no sense... I swear I will not stop writing so long as there is at least one interested person. :D Team I-DON'T-CARE-I-LOVE-IT!

Guest: I really was terrified of posting certain things and I thank you for noticing and giving me encouragement to combat the nerves. :D Really, you re-read that scene? I know I shouldn't be proud but I am! I'll strive to keep the cat-and-mouse theme going!

Cirx: Another asylum inmate! I totally understand you; in real life r*** is not in any way appropriate and I can't even imagine how it affects a person, however in writing and reading an obvious fiction piece it's easy to detach. Just because we enjoy reading certain things doesn't mean we think it's right. And I think in this fic you're right in saying sex is how Blaine 'connects' with victim!Kurt. Taking his virginity is more significant than words could describe.

Please review or message with comments/questions/ requests etc etc.

Rest and Relaxation

The sun was only just beginning to set as the trees they had been driving through for seemingly hours started to become sparse and paved the way to a vast open space, complete with a beautiful orange sun on a canvas of warm pinks and blues.

Kurt took his hand from his chin and ignored the aching feeling which came from being in that position too long. He and Finn leaned into the middle seat to look up ahead. The lake which graced almost all of the open space was still and inviting. There was a pier on their side which Uncle Louis was driving towards and dotted along the beach front on the other side were large picturesque houses. At a distance it seemed like they were all sort of close together but as they drove nearer Kurt figured there must have been at least few miles between each home. He wondered which one belonged to his aunt and uncle.

Louis pulled up in a dirt area that looked like a make-shift car park. Next to it, beside the long pier, sat a lonely hut. The hut door opened as Louis cut the engine and a tall forty-something year old man came out dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and khaki pants. 'Oh, it seems Malcolm is still watchman,' Jenny commenter dryly, unbuckling her seat belt. 'Funny, last time we were here he was sprouting all this nonsense of quitting and going to live in Europe. Perhaps he saw a map and found there are a dozen countries in Europe to choose from and got himself confused!' She laughed.

'Actually, there's closer to fifty...' Kurt murmured, only being heard by an amused Finn, as they got out the car.

Watchman Malcolm grinned as they approached him. 'Well! Didn't think I'd see you two back for months!' He eyed the two teenagers. 'Did you adopt or something?'

'No, no, Malcolm,' Louis replied easily. 'These are our nephews. Thought we'd bring them out to the house for a little relaxation. Is our boat ready for use?'

Malcolm's odd interest in the boys was cut short as he was reminded of his secondary duties of maintaining and preparing the boats of vacation home owners. He immediately raced off. Kurt breathed a sigh of relief: since the incident he and Finn had been hounded at random by idiotic members of the public who recognised their faces from the media. One well-meaning woman had once followed Jenny home because she overheard the aunt mentioning Kurt and Finn by their first names at the meat counter. Kurt had become frustratingly paranoid of people looking at him and preferred to be out of sight as much as possible. He held back with his uncle and helped move their luggage towards the water. Finn then pulled Kurt back and threw him a humoured 'Pfft, please!' look before taking the bags.

'Finn, your stomach!' Kurt berated him, trying to take them back.

Finn brushed him off and laughed 'Kurt, even on my worst day I can still carry this stuff better than you on your best day.' Kurt had a moment of childishness and stuck out his tongue. Jenny looked on with disapproval mixed with motherly amusement.

They heard Malcolm before they saw him: Louis' boat - named 'Elena-Sophia' - was steered out from inside the boathouse by the hut with a sharp chainsaw-like racket. The motor was getting used to running after being left for months. Kurt figured Malcolm's guilt-ridden shifty eyes were due to the fact he was also responsible for taking the boats out occasionally to prevent rusting but had neglected his duty. Louis didn't seem to care. He took the keys and motioned for the three of them to get on-board as he spoke to Malcolm. 'So who else is out now?'

'Oh, no one. Well, hardly anyone. The Hernandez family arrived two days ago but I haven't heard of or seen them since. And Mike and Dawn Taylor have been here a couple of weeks. But other than that you're on your own.' Malcolm winked. 'Just the way you like it.'

Louis smiled loosely and handed him a crisp twenty dollar note. 'Keep me informed on everything and...let me know if anyone new starts hanging around. This is a private area and I'd like to keep it that way.' Malcolm glanced towards Finn and Kurt. It was obvious he knew exactly why this request was made. He nodded. Louis nodded in return; for a quiet war-time economics author, the man did hold some standing with others. He hopped down into the boat and sat with his wife. He gave a short wave to the watchman before steering Elena-Sophia out into the lake.

Kurt adored sailing. His father had taken him on a few fishing trips as a child in the hopes that Kurt would pick up the hobby and take an interest in more manlier activities. As it turned out, Kurt had just enjoyed watching his dad enjoy himself. He was content with looking into the water and drawing pictures as his dad told him stories. It was always so quiet and serene. Making sure not to dip them in deep enough to hit the motor, Kurt let his fingers trail across the water's surface causing a skimming line and odd-shaped ripples. Finn was not used to sailing and was taking everything in with bewildered awe. The scenery around them was simply incredible; on one side far off in the distance they could see mountains. Most of the lake was surrounded by woodland but the occasional house and shores splashed the view with added colour. The slowly darkening sky and the choppy sun-glowed waves beneath them complimented one another in contrast.

Finn shouted over the motor when he saw they were headed towards a cream house standing alone about a hundred yards from it's pier. 'Hey, Louis, is that your place? Why didn't we drive there?'

'To drive all the way round would take too long.' Louis called back. 'It's a lot faster using the boat, five minutes or so, and I like the idea of leaving my troubles back at Malcolm's station.' He smiled warmly and Finn found himself returning it in understanding. He liked that Louis just seemed to get him. He turned back to the waves to enjoy what was left of their sailing.

Kurt helped his aunt steady herself as she stepped onto the wooden boards and Finn again busied himself with the luggage. Jenny said something about going up and turning on the power and headed up to the house. Kurt took a moment to admire the place. The house was just as big as the one they had left hours before but it held an air of luxurious simplicity. The front garden was unbound but the back was fenced off and out of his sight. All the windows had delightful painted shutters and the porch surrounded the whole house with numerous lanterns hanging just begging to be lit. Two trees off at the side had swings attached to their branches, and it was then Kurt realised he was looking at his dream home. Or, at least, the home he would have dreamt of before he gave up on dreaming altogether.

He found the inside to be just as spacious and comfortable as the outside, with a large front room, kitchen, dining area, library, games room and conservatory downstairs. There were only three bedrooms upstairs - less than was expected for such a grand place - but each generously sized with bathrooms and a corridor which went round in a full square around the staircase. Kurt was not going to heal, he knew and accepted that, but he would at least suffer and stress in a pleasant environment. That was something.

As Aunt Jenny got to work on dinner and Uncle Louis went about checking the basement and garage, Kurt managed to convince Finn to join him out on the tree swings instead of sitting in front of the television like the football player had initially wanted. They walked in silence and each took a seat under the trees allowing them to gaze across the lake towards the setting sun. They sat watching until the sun went from being a ball of hazy brunt orange to nothing, with only it's dying rays protruding from the mountain edges. The air grew a little chilly but still comfortable.

'Kurt,' Finn said eventually. Kurt made an inquisitive sound. 'This was a good idea, right? Coming out here with them?'

Kurt thought about it, eyes squinting a little. 'I think 'good idea' is a bit delusional, but I don't think it's bad.'

'I just...can't believe they're still out there.'

'Where did you think they'd go?' Kurt asked, twisting his swing around to face Finn. 'We knew Sebastian survived. Are you really surprised?'

'I wish I'd got him again.' Finn spat bitterly. 'Once more in the gut. No, I should have just kept shoving that knife into him until I knew he was dead. But...'

Kurt reached out and took his hand. 'You aren't a violent guy, Finn,' He said sternly, 'No matter what they did, they were never going to change that.'

'I wish they had.' Finn moaned. He threw Kurt a pained look. 'Since I read that fucking article, y'know what I can't stop thinking about?' Kurt stared. 'I keep thinking...'If only I had taken that knife out and stabbed him again. Even once more might have been enough. Then all those people and all those kids would still be alive.'.' He sighed and took his hand from Kurt's grasp. 'I don't think Blaine would have kept going solo. I know he kept pitting himself against you but there's no way he could take down a whole street on his own and I don't think he'd want to without his...buddy.'

Kurt wasn't sure how to comfort him. He had suspected Finn of having such feelings of guilt pretty much since the fateful night itself, but the line 'over 30 killed in overnight killing spree' was burned into their minds. More than thirty individual lives. People. People who had dreams and aspirations, people who had families who's only consolation for their loss was that they themselves had not been victims of the tragedy. The details of the killings were vague in the article but Kurt knew the poor officers who came to each scene were no doubt met with some of the most twisted and gruesome crime scenes in American history. Kurt had played over their own Night of Hell in his head almost every hour since their escape just trying to pinpoint what he did wrong. All those times he ran in the wrong direction, took chances too soon or too late, said and believed the wrong thing. But Finn had a particular moment to blame himself on - something Kurt understood but did not agree with - and just as he feared his brother was beating himself up bad for it.

'C'mon,' Kurt murmured and pulled Finn to his feet. 'I didn't sleep in the car and those beds upstairs look like heaven. We'll deal with this tomorrow.' Finn let himself be dragged back inside and after indulging Jenny in a light dinner they went to their bedrooms. After hours of tossing and turning and staring at their ceilings, both fell into uneasy and restless sleeps.

The following day brought another promising sun that warmed Kurt as it's rays graced his skin as he dressed. The morning was spent wandering around the garden and walking along the shore by the house. Jenny called them in for lunch around noon.

'How far is it to the nearest house?' Finn asked over a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches. 'Kurt and I were thinking of taking a walk.'

Jenny immediately voiced her disapproval. 'Boys, I really don't think that's a good idea. I know being followed by the journalists and the like are highly unlikely but there are bears and other wild animals out in those woods. You wouldn't know where you were going and-'

'I think it's a great idea.' Louis interrupted with a light voice. His wife shot him a furious look. 'I have a map of the area and, come now, Jenny, there's a path running parallel to the water less than a stones throw away.' He looked to Finn. 'The closest house would be the Michael's, but they aren't normally here until the middle of summer. A little further is the Hernandez'. Lovely family, I don't think they'll mind if you-'

'Oh, we aren't planning on visiting.' Kurt cut in. 'Just...exploring.' Truthfully, he just wanted some alone time, with Finn, of course, without his aunt's sing-song call knocking his deep thinking off balance. Plus, they had both agreed they would feel more comfortable getting to know the area and - who knows? - maybe it would help distance themselves from the knowledge than somewhere out there families were grieving, bodies were lying in morgues, and two insidious murderers were still at large.

They left the house a little after one. Louis figured it would take a couple of hours to walk to the other houses, giving them enough time to wander out there and back before dinner. Kurt was trusted with the map as when Finn initially took it he held it upside down and started walking in the opposite direction Louis was pointing. Finn was then trusted with their bottles of water and snacks. Not long after they began their trek, they both knew they would not make it to the Hernandez area in the time frame due to their frequent stops to bask in the sun and cool their sweltering feet in the lake. Around four, Kurt suggested they start heading back.

'Alright, just give me a sec; I need a whiz.' Kurt scrunched his nose in disgust as his brother half jogged away with his hand undoing his pants and disappeared into the shadow of the trees. Kurt turned back to the water and let the sun twinkle on his pale features. Maybe he would tan out here? He closed his eyes for a few moments then looked back to where Finn had gone.

And he saw him. Him.

Fear pierced his heart. He lost his footing as the sudden urge to vomit got him in the gut. A frightened cry escaped his lips.

'Kurt!' Finn ran to him, his fly still undone so he had to hold his shorts up with his hand. He caught Kurt before the boy fell on himself. 'Kurt, what's wrong? Tell me!'

Kurt didn't even realise he was in tears. He hadn't lost sight of what scared him and his eyes never left the spot. Finn followed his stare and saw a darkened patch of bark on a tree trunk. He looked back at Kurt, confused. Kurt sobbed into his arms. It wasn't him. In a moment of unguarded, sun-dazed gazing his eyes mistook the shape on the tree as his tormentor. It never moved, never changed, but his perception had cleared and shown it for what it really was: nothing. But the fright had already taken hold. For one brief moment he believed Blaine was there standing only thirty or forty feet away just staring at him. Though it had not existed, Kurt had made out his smile, his honey-coloured eyes and the delicate tousled curls which framed his face. He had been wearing the same clothes from that night. Kurt saw him in his nightmares so frequently it was hardly a surprise the image came to him so instantly. He wept.

Finn held him without fully understanding though he did deduce enough to know not to say anything. He just cradled Kurt in his arms and waited til his brother's cries subsided. He then gently asked if he wanted to head back, and Kurt had nodded.

'Hey, you two!' Jenny looked hugely relieved when she saw the two teens come in from the porch. Her smile faltered after catching sight of Kurt's exhausted and torn expression. 'How was your walk?'

'Fine.' Finn answered for them. He took his time taking off his shoes so Kurt didn't look like a zombie fighting off his own.

'Well, dinner won't be ready for a while yet.' Jenny glanced at the clock. It was almost seven. 'Why don't you have a seat and tell me what you saw out there on the trail?'

Kurt walked past her. His voice was dead and monotone. 'No thanks. I'm tired; I'm going to go have a nap.' When Finn didn't move to follow, Jenny sat back by the kitchen table in frustration. Her eyes narrowed on Finn as if preparing an interrogation. She hated that she always felt in the dark - how could she help if they weren't open and honest with her?

Fortunately for Finn, Louis entered the kitchen having passed his nephew in the hall. 'Finn,' He started brightly, 'I was wondering if you wanted to spend the day fishing tomorrow. After a day of walking, I bet it's just what the doctor ordered. I'll show you the ropes.'

Feeling touched and a little tearful for some reason, Finn smiled and nodded. 'Louis...I'd really like that.' At seventeen, Finn imagined an 'All American Boy' like himself should have been fishing long before now. Perhaps it was his lack of a father figure growing up and his initial resistance of Burt, but he was overdue such a lesson. Louis seem like he would be a good and patient teacher.

Louis clapped him on the back. 'Excellent. Well, the motor from Elena-Sophia scares fish off for hours - we'll need the old rowing boat out back. Help me bring it round front, will you?'

Finn agreed. Louis went off to find the paddles in one of the cupboards and Finn left to the back garden to start unhooking the wooden vessel from the protective covering. The rowing boat didn't seem to have a name on its side and was in dire need of a paint job - something Finn made a mental note of in case it could lead to some more bonding opportunities in the coming week.

The night air was cool but warmer than the night before. There was still a warm breeze despite the sun now well and truly set out west. The lights from the house were enough for Finn to make out the straps. He undid them and tossed them away, quickly followed by the protective covering itself. He hummed at the vague outline of wheels beneath the boat as the sound of the back door closing told him Louis was out to help.

'Thank God.' Finn smiled as he ran his hand across the thin tyre. 'I thought we'd have to carry this all the way round the house and down to the shore. I might have messed up my stomach and I don't think you and Kurt could manage it on your own.' He paused, then laughed. 'No offence.'

'None taken.'

Finn froze. His hand on the tyre began to grip tightly as his back locked in place. That voice... That wasn't Louis.

A twig snapped as the man behind him took a step closer. Finn's throat closed up and he turned at a blinding speed, pressing himself back against the boat and holding on for dear life as his legs threatened to give way. The silhouette of a young man grew a little bigger as he took yet another lazy step forward. Finn's eyes bulged. Even with his face masked in shadow, the cold gaze running up and down the length of the quarterback's body and the long smirk etched across with a flash of white teeth, Finn recognised him.

Finn finally choked out his name. 'Sebastian?'

Eyes brimming with tears and cheeks flushed and patchy, Jenny turned her head up as Finn was roughly kicked in the back so that he fell on the kitchen floor. She moaned in horror. Sebastian then sauntered inside, swinging his handgun round one finger as if it were a toy. Finn managed to break his own fall (and prevent causing serious setbacks to his scar-tissue ridden abdomen) by letting his whole right side take the damage. He winced at a flash of pain and the dull ache that followed, but was at least grateful that was all he felt. He next turned his attention to Jenny who was huddled in the corner of the room for some reason. She was holding onto something. She seemed to gurgle in anguish and she hoisted the thing in her arms closer to her chest.

Finn felt sick. Louis. Appearing to be unconscious, the older man had a gash running from his left temple down to his cheek and blood was pouring onto the white tiles. His eyes were closed as if he were simply asleep. Finn moved to scramble closer but Sebastian stepped in his way.

'Stand up, Finn-y boy.' Finn glared up at him, however he did as he was told. He knew how this worked; you don't obey, you pay. Sebastian smiled and his eyes drank in his appearance as he stepped into him. Despite being a little shorter than Finn and less muscular, he pressed the footballer against the breakfast bar. 'You're looking fine. Almost as good as new... Lift up your shirt.' Sebastian's voice was a soft and quiet drawl playing tentatively against Finn's ear like a lover. Finn felt like he might throw up, a feeling which only intensified as he felt the nozzle of the shotgun rub against the inside of his thigh. It ran up and whispered over his crotch suggestively. He took a shaky breath and lifted his t shirt up a few inches. Sebastian tilted his head and studied the fleshy mess which took up a small area of Finn's front. He hummed in approval. 'Very nice.'

A cool hand ran down Finn's skin and lightly grazed over the injury. Finn hissed at the sensitivity and tried to stare the bastard down. 'Don't touch me!' Behind them, Jenny continued to moan quietly in uncontrollable sobs.

Sebastian's eyes lit up. 'Now, now, Finn. There's no need for that tone; we're all gentlemen here. Besides, I think I'm entitled...after what you did to me.' His eyes hardened briefly and the smile faltered. 'It wasn't very nice of you, Finn. I had to go to hospital. I had to lie to people. Blaine had to lie to people. It was very thoughtless and selfish of you.'

Finn felt a second wave of sickness wash over him; first, the over-polite and well spoken Sebastian - the same which had tricked Finn into letting him in his families house all those months ago - was back and the innocent feather-like touches from his fingers across his chest simply reminded him of how much damage those fingers could do when willed to torture. But the second reason for his chest-tightening nausea was the mentioning of someone up until now Finn had given less thought to. 'Blaine...' He swallowed, his voice breaking. He looked around the kitchen and eyed the hallway and door to the front room. 'Where...where is he?' Sebastian's lips broke apart in an amused grin. Finn pressed into him in anger, somehow managing to ignore the pressure of the firearm against his dick. 'You fucker - where is he? Where is that little shit?'

Sebastian's smirk widened. His eyes slowly drew up and he gazed at the ceiling. Finn followed his eyes, darting up and back down to his captor as he made the connection. Upstairs. That's where Blaine was. He was upstairs. Kurt... No, no, no - no!

'KURT!'

A.N. Aaaaaaaand SCENE! Nice job everyone, especially you, Sebastian. Good entrance; poor Finn had no idea. I wonder how Kurt and Blaine's reunion will go down? *evil laugh* Please leave a review or message before you go!