Toy Soldiers

A/N: Thank you so much for all your reviews and words of support! Whenever I get discouraged during the writing process I would reread your comments and feel so much better.

Illustration: I put up an illustration of Kurt on my tumblr page – you can get to it from my FF profile. I kind of envision that Blaine took this picture of Kurt in bed after they had sex for the first time, so basically the night before the events of this story. (Warning: it's a bit racy… but not raunchy!)

Disclaimer: Don't own Glee.

Part FOUR

If you want Blaine to come, then do it to him.

Flint's declaration echoed in the Dalton courtyard as his audience: both students and aggressors alike, remained dumbfounded not only by its intent, but also by its overpowering sense of malice and spite.

Very few Dalton students were ignorant of the fact that Blaine Anderson was crazy about Kurt Hummel, particularly after the "Somewhere Only We Know" serenade in the McKinley schoolyard. The performance had been the gossip du jour in the Dalton social scene for quite some time. But despite witnessing the cruel treatment Flint suffered in the hands of the hostage takers, still even fewer could envision the pure bond between the two boys as something to be cheaply manipulated and used.

M's first clue was the light gasps heard rippling through the courtyard, followed by hushed utterances exchanged amongst students of various cohorts as all eyes convened on the focal point of Flint's transgressions.

M could feel Ben and Dru turning toward him for guidance, the pair not yet able to comprehend what had just transpired. But if M had any doubts, the fact that Wes and Jeff instinctively stepped in front of Kurt to shield him from the unwanted glares had certainly removed any uncertainties in his mind.

M spoke softly to Dru. "Please escort that boy to me. Oh, and D," M added, "Minimal force would be appreciated."

Dru was puzzled by the qualifier, but nevertheless tucked her gun behind her before she approached Wes and Jeff. She stood in front of the two boys who refused to step aside, and glanced back to M with a shrug, seeking permission to forcefully obtain her intended target.

"Wait," Kurt breathed as he gently pushed Wes and Jeff aside to stand before Dru. "Please, I don't want anyone to get hurt anymore."

Kurt began walking toward M, and Dru quickly followed.

This was the first time M had a proper look at Kurt Hummel. M had recognized Kurt from the files in the Headmaster's office: A recent transfer to Dalton Academy, from a middle class family, got good grades, but left Dalton just as swiftly as he had appeared. Why he was at Dalton this morning was irrelevant, because on paper, Kurt Hummel was an expendable, a nameless hostage. But as the countertenor finally stood in front of him, M realized how heavily he had misjudged.

The boy standing in front of him could be summed up by one word: Otherworldly. Delicate features, luminous skin, and deep, expressive eyes. What alarmed M, though, was that while the boy seemed irrevocably fragile, it exuded an alluring sense of incorruptible innocence. A combination ripe with seduction.

M was hesitant. There was no doubt that a boy like Kurt Hummel, a rose bud in bloom, can easily arouse the fieriest of passions in his suitor. But that suitor being Blaine Anderson, the son of a man he, though despised, had the utmost respect for. Was this a line he is willing to cross?

Already anticipating regret, M knew he had no choice. He had secretly felt a sense of relief when Blaine Anderson was nowhere to be found this morning. At least he wouldn't have to break his promise to an old friend. But now that the boy is within his grasp, he cannot pass on the opportunity. This was a matter of his survival.

M turned from Kurt, as if not willing to witness the consequence of his own decision. After he took a step away, he commanded Ben.

"Make the boy scream."

Blaine's heart was pumping so hard he thought he was going to vomit it out of his chest. He had successfully evaded the katana wielding man in white by cramming himself into the wall space behind the world map in Mr. Chase's history classroom. Mr. Chase is a notorious slush, and after the infamous alcohol poisoning incident last year, Blaine knew exactly where he hid his stash.

Blaine could hear Hiro sweeping through the classroom, followed by his abrupt departing having assumed the boy was a step ahead. Blaine let out a sigh of relief as he pushed aside the map and fell to the floor, fighting back tears. I totally screwed up, Blaine cursed at himself. He had just exposed himself to the hostage takers, exposed his friends, and – Blaine pounded into the floor with his fist – exposed Kurt.

Blaine took out his phone, and thought about who he can call for help. His dad was on a business trip to New York, and his mom was on a spa retreat somewhere in the Swiss Alps. As if it mattered. The top speed dials on his phone were all his friends. Hell, even Burt was higher on the list than his parents.

Blaine noticed that he had an incoming message:

From Trent:

Where are you? Shit's hitting the fan. The guy the terrorists want released is some arms trafficker in Asia and is being extradited for war crimes. The Board said they can pay the cash but FBI said they don't negotiate with terrorists. They are just stalling now. We are all so worried that they are going to storm the school and turn this into a massacre.

Blaine looked at the message intensely. A massacre. No way in hell he is going to let that happen.

He closed his eyes and forced himself to concentrate. Wheels turning in his head, Blaine Anderson suddenly had a plan.

He opened the dialer on his phone and started touching the numbers.

Back in the Dalton courtyard, the first person to make a sound was Drucilla. The woman in the catwoman mask showed genuine concern when she spoke, "M, are you sure you want Ben to keep going? The boy might die before he lets out a sound."

M still had his back turned against the show he had staged in the middle of the courtyard, but looking around, he took note of the growing anger and unrest amongst the Dalton boys. Jeff and Nick had already been wrestled to the ground by Big John because they immediately charged toward Ben when he took his first cut on Kurt Hummel. If eyes can kill, the rest of the Warblers would surely have burned all the hostage takers alive by now. What M feared, though, was that their anger and rage was slowly spreading to the rest of the study body. His team has no shortage of bullets, but if he loses control of the hostages, was he willing to risk a slaughter on his hands?

Ben turned cold when he sensed M's hesitation. The countertenor's persistent silence had turned this into a game, a game that he can't afford to lose.

When Ben was first asked to make the boy scream, he observed Kurt's feminine demeanors and assumed that it would be an easy task. If it was any other boy, thrusting the bone handle of his hunting blade into his victim's most private place would have been Ben's preferred method. It would have been quick, cruel, and effective. But as he studied the countertenor for the first time, he surprised himself by wanting to take it slow. It would only be fitting, Ben thought as he decided how he was going to do the delicate and lithe body before him. It was going to be nice and slow and painful.

Circling around the boy, Ben menacingly leaned toward Kurt and relished the boy's tremors as he licked his ear, "I'm going to give you a present, Beautiful. Something to always remember me by." Ben tackled the boy face down on to the ground and unsheathed the large knife from his ankle strap.

When Dru spoke, Ben was straddled on top of Kurt's back, one leg stilling the boy's writhing body and the other pinning Kurt's legs down on the floor. The boy's shirt had been pushed up against his shoulders, and muffled sobs and hiccups could be heard from the crumpled clothe as Kurt tried to stifle his cries.

Despite the badly shaken body beneath him and the looks of death he was getting from the rest of the Dalton students, Ben was actually serene. Like an expert craftsmen he went to work on his masterpiece. With the tip of his blade, he began carving elegant lines on the countertenor's back, slowly and meticulously. With each cut, beads of blood slowly bubbled up, glistening against the alabaster skin. Ben had to mentally restrain himself from leaning down to lick the maroon pearls and taste the boy beneath him. He forced himself to focus on his art. After all, Ben was determined to give the boy what he deserved: The most beautiful pair of blood red wings.

"Shhh," Ben cooed the he felt Kurt's body shook with each knife stroke. "You take it so well," he mused. "But I do think letting it out, instead of chewing on your own lip, will help with the pain." He could feel the boy was on the edge of breaking apart, and it was giving him the biggest hard-on.

Ben was almost done with his masterpiece when out of the corner of his eye, he saw a hesitant M slowly approaching him. He was about to lose his canvas and he was running out of time. The boy's stubborn refusal to scream, though riveting at first, was now becoming a slap on his face. Ben had to up the ante.

Gently laying his hand on the countertenor's back, Ben slowly began to push his fingers into the cuts. Steadily, his fingers dug past the raised ridges of the cuts and into Kurt's warm, wet flesh.

"No…" Kurt whimpered when he felt Ben's hand on his back. The cuts had felt like forever. He wished that he would just faint and be rid of the nightmare, but each time the cold blade marked his skin the sharp pain would jolt him back into consciousness. He had bit into his clothes, then his lower lip, and even his shoulder as he struggled against crying aloud and playing into the hands of his captors. Every time Kurt wanted to just give up, the photograph of Blaine on the tablet of the captors would pop up in his mind. Kurt didn't know what they wanted from Blaine, but he wasn't going to take the chance. He just needed to buy enough time for Blaine to escape from this hell.

But when his torturer began to burrow his fingers into Kurt's flesh, the excruciating pain pushed Kurt beyond his limit. Kurt wanted to die. He just wanted everything to stop, to end.

Kurt screamed.

Post Note: Sorry this chapter was so short, it was extremely difficult to write. Next Chapter: Blaine appears!