Despite the warm weather outside, the ocean was icy cold, sending shivers up and down his spine. He knew he had caused a commotion with the splash so instead of directly coming up for air; he pushed his body forward through the frigid water. It was almost painful to stay underwater, not because of the lack of air, but because of the cold water.
Kurt stayed underwater for as long as he could before pushing his body above the waterline and taking as much air as his deflated lungs could take in. A buoy floated a few yards from him, prompting him to swim behind it, hide and take his bearings.
People on the pier didn't seem to take too much notice to the boy jumping into the ocean, much to his surprise, and he was far enough from the boat that he didn't think he caught their attention. It was safe to go forward- as far as he could tell.
So, pushing off of the buoy, he started to swim towards the boat, occasionally ducking underwater to avoid potentially prying eyes of tourists and sailors on break. He didn't think anyone was out looking for a boy swimming by a pier, but one could never be too careful.
Finally, he came up to the fibreglass hull of the yacht, letting his hands gently press up against it to help himself glide through the water. A few feet to his left was a small round window that let him see into the ship. Kurt slowly moved until he was right under the window, got his feet on some protruding screws, and hoisted himself up so he could see into the small circle of glass.
Inside was Blaine, talking to the Gardener with two more bodyguards behind him. Suddenly, something seemed to change. Blaine's demeanour became anxious, he seemed to be stuttering. The Gardener and his men moved closer to the boy. As they neared him, his stance became defensive and his hands rose for attack.
The bodyguards leapt at the boy and Kurt turned away from the window. Blaine was in trouble and Kurt needed to get in there. There was a thud against the fibreglass which he leaned against and he knew a body was flung against the wall.
He didn't dare turn toward the window to see if it was Blaine. If it was his partner, his friend... whatever Blaine was to him, and he was hurt, he would never be able to forgive himself.
With a large breath, he dove under the ship, swam under the hull and resurfaced under the rope bridge. He knew that right on the deck above him were two more bodyguards who could cause just as much damage as the ones in the room with Blaine.
He pulled his feet up against the hull and pushed up, shooting out of the water. Kurt grabbed the bottom of the bridge and used it to flip over, landing on the wooden planks in an attack position. Instantly, the guards took their fighting stance and one even swung his leg towards Kurt.
Primal defence instinct took him over, his torso leaning backward and watching the man's foot come inches from his nose before Kurt was aware of it. He flipped his body and landed on his left hand, swinging his right foot out hard, grinning when he felt the hard connection of the other man's ankle.
Kurt landed on his knees and reached to the man who he tripped. He grabbed the man's shirt and swung him around his body, letting go only when the centrifugal force led him under the rope bridge's handles and into the cold water. Instantly he was on his feet, his hands going up to his face to prevent a punch from the remaining bodyguard.
The man swung his leg out, prompting Kurt to grab onto the boat's ledge, push himself and deliver a kick towards the man's head. He ducked right on time, however, meaning that all he accomplished was jumping over the man and landing smoothly on the main deck.
With each punch he threw, he thought about the training that Blaine had gone through and he had done so many years. Left hook. Right hook. Uppercut. Haymaker.
It didn't matter. The man blocked them with ease, each time delivering a punch with deadly force in return. Kurt's feet were in constant motion as he tried to keep his balance and throw off his opponent's. It didn't help that the whole time the man was keeping the offensive, pushing Kurt farther towards the front of the ship.
A soft clang caught his attention so he risked a moment to look at his feet. His right foot had knocked into a metal pipe which was slowly spinning to a stop. He gave the man a split second look before flipping the pole up with his foot, catching it and swinging it with all his strength.
There was a dull thud when the pipe made contact with the man's head before he fell to the deck like a ragdoll, unconscious. Kurt stayed in the attack position for a minute before he was sure that no one was coming out to investigate.
He looked down at the man at his feet. "Sorry." He said quietly. He reached down, grabbed the man's hands and moved him across the deck before throwing an abandoned tarp over him. There was a loud crash somewhere below deck, a hit with enough force to slightly rock the boat, and Kurt took off, rushing down a flight of stairs that led below deck.
He stopped about halfway down the stairs as he took in the sight below him. Blaine was in a heap on the ground on top of a broken table surrounded by a bunch of burly men in sport coats. The Gardener was off to the side, his arms crossed, proudly surveying the scene in front of him.
"Now look, I don't have all day. I just want to know who you're working for." The Gardener's voice was strangely high pitched.
All Blaine did was groan- Kurt could tell he was nearing unconsciousness. "He wouldn't tell you even if you hadn't beaten him up." Kurt said loudly. He jumped over the railing and landed on the Gardener's shoulders, with slightly less grace than her normally had. The man struggled to shake him off, causing him to generate an iron grip on the man's previously pristine white shirt.
The Gardener let out an anguished cry as Kurt almost lost his balance and grabbed the man's hair to regain stability. "Don't just stand there! Shoot him!" He shouted to the men in the room.
Shooting? Sure enough, when Kurt looked at the men who were around Blaine, a few started to pull out handguns. "Okay. I didn't sign up for this." Kurt grunted. He pushed the Gardener forwards, propelling him backwards to let him flip in the air and land rather elegantly on the ground.
He ran towards the other end of the room, jumping over a table and pulling it down to use it as a shield. His ears finally registered the sounds of the ricocheting bullets bouncing off the ceiling and walls. With each contact of bullet-to-ship, Kurt flinched, trying to regain a normal heart rate. He saw a stack of burlap bags a few feet away.
It must have been a moment of pure desperation that made Kurt lean forward and grab two of the large sacks. He jumped up, exposing himself to the men whose guns, he realized, could easily make him Swiss cheese... or worse. With his strong arm, he chucked a sack at a few of the men in hopes to distract them.
All the times his father tried to get him into baseball and all the times he declined to play came back to him a moment of karma and regret. The bag that he threw fell three feet short of his target. The CIA training helped him get more agile and work on skills he didn't know he could possibly have, but they didn't exactly train on the ones that he was supposed to have learned.
The bags burst open and a green haze lifted into the air. A green-brown powder seemed to spill from the slight opening that the force of the landing seemed to have torn in the bag.
"Be careful!" It was The Gardener. "We need to keep those bags full! Even a lost ounce will cost us!"
Suddenly, it all clicked in his mind. There was a reason why their magic contact was called The Gardener. "Back off or I'll burn all your weed sky high!" Kurt said threateningly, taking a small metal rectangle out of his pocket. No, it wasn't a lighter. It was actually just a USB with some designs for his final project of the term, but they didn't have to know that.
There was a bit of shuffling and Kurt could see the group of bodyguards start to back away from the path to the staircase. He dropped the sack full of the drug and slowly made his way across the room, holding the USB high and threateningly.
He eyed Blaine who was starting to get up and regain his balance. Kurt slowly made his way to the other boy and put his arm under his shoulder, helping him move across the room. They were nearly at the stairs when a loud voice shook him to his core. "That's not a lighter! Get them!"
Without much thinking, Kurt swung Blaine onto his back and took off up the stairs and onto the main deck. He felt Blaine's muscles flex against his neck as he held onto Kurt as he ran. "Let me off," Blaine said into his ear. His voice sounded weak and defensive, it was not the Blaine who whispered into his ear the previous night. "I can hold my weight."
"So can I. I'm not letting them take you." Kurt said quietly. There was a small sigh that came from Blaine's direction and he knew there was a smirk on the boy's face.
The second that he set foot on the main deck, whatever smile that Blaine put on Kurt's face faded instantly. Scattered on the deck were about two dozen men, all of them well built and staring at them with a deathly look in their eyes. The one who was dripping water all over the deck looked as if he could actually murder Kurt without a second thought.
"Actually..." Kurt said, lowering Blaine down. "I might need you."
He felt Blaine get off his back and take in the situation. "Don't worry. We got this." Despite the fact that the other boy sounded stronger, Kurt couldn't help but feel anxious about the situation. They were outnumbered, outmuscled and, all in all, completely screwed. Slowly, the men started moving in. "Ready?" Blaine breathed.
Kurt lowered his body and held up his fists in an attack position. "Ready." He responded quietly. "Go alpha!" He cried out before swinging his foot out in an arc, hitting the closest bodyguard in the thigh. 'Go alpha' meant nothing, to be honest, but he figured that it might make the men assume that they had a secret fighting strategy or something.
Behind him, Kurt heard skin hitting skin and he knew Blaine was already going head on into the brawl. It didn't really surprise him- his partner was a boxer at heart and had the arms for it. Kurt was more nimble and focused on acrobatics and his legs, once powerful for complicated dance moves, to form a destructive blow.
The two of them kept their backs very nearly against each other as they circled around the deck, throwing punches and kicks towards the men whose only motivation was anger and money. "I think we've overstayed our welcome." Blaine called to him.
As much as he didn't really want to admit it, they had to get out of there. They were fairing well now, but what about when The Gardener came back up? After he was able to confirm his bounty was safe, there would be nothing stopping him from killing the two of them on the spot. "Agreed!" Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand and ran right between two of the men.
He looked back to see Blaine jumping over their arms as they ran the length of the main deck. They were feet from the rope bridge when two men landed in front of them, apparently jumping from the roof of the cabin where the person steering the boat would go. This ruined his plan. They needed to leave the ship running- otherwise The Gardener's henchmen would catch up to them before they could climb out of the water.
Kurt's grip on his friend slacked. He couldn't figure out a way out of here that would be quick enough. Every milliseconds standing here was another step closer to death, as far as he was concerned.
After what seemed like ages, Blaine stepped forward, reversed the grip on their hands so now he was leading Kurt, and ran towards the front mast. He looked at the other boy. There was no way off the ship now- men were coming towards them from both sides of the small cabin in front of them. "Blaine..." He said worriedly.
The boy pulled him close against his chest and uttered words he always wanted to hear: "Hold on tight". Without much thinking, Kurt threw his arms around the boy's neck and watched as Blaine wrapped one hand around a hanging rope and took out a small credit card with the other. He ran his fingers over the numbers and a sharp blade sprang out. With one swift motion, he cut another line on the mast.
Suddenly, they were soaring upwards in the air up the pole. Now that Kurt knew Blaine's plan, he decided to help out. He stuck out his foot and made hard contact against the metal mast. He pushed them towards the pier, but it wasn't enough. "Swing!" Blaine called to Kurt.
They used their combined mass to move themselves away from the pier and, right before they started to fall, rocket back towards the boardwalk. "Let go!" Kurt said, moments before they'd hit the top of their arch.
It was almost as if time was frozen, or at least slowed down. Kurt looked down as his grip on Blaine failed and he flew over the open water between the pier and the boat. It seemed like ages before Kurt actually felt himself fall, a victim to gravity's hand.
In an instant, his brain switched modes- from panicking to analyzing and competent. He needed to figure out how to survive this fall. A streetlight was off to his left of his trajectory. He shifted his weight and stretched his body, his fingertips wanting more than anything to touch the cool metal.
And they did.
The moment they connected, he held on for dear life as he swung himself from the overhanging light to the main pole before sliding down to the wooden planks of the boardwalk. He glanced at Blaine. He had used a trashcan as a springboard to gain control of himself and land smoothly. Kurt glanced back at the boat. The guards were already scrambling to cross the rope bridge.
There was only a moment's hesitation before they both sprinted down the boardwalk, quickly ducking into an alley and running along the shadows. "Do you think we lost them?" Kurt breathed as the two of them skidded across a corner.
The crash of a metal trashcan being thrown against a brick wall behind them answered the question.
So they ran faster.
At one point, Blaine silently pointed at a low-hanging fire escape. Kurt grinned and watched as Blaine sprinted up ahead, took a running jump, grabbed on the lowest rung and started to climb. With cat-like precision, Kurt followed as they raced up to the rooftop.
Catching their breath, they leaned over the edge slightly and watched anxiously as they watched a series of men run through the alley and head right at the end, completely ignoring the fire escape.
Kurt let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He barely got time to inhale again before two strong arms embraced him, pulling him close. There was no second thought before he wrapped his arms around Blaine and joined him in a shaking hug. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"
Blaine pulled away. He seemed okay. Maybe a daring escape and an adrenalin rush was all that the boy needed to get back on his feet. "Yeah. I'll be fine. Thanks." There was a small smirk on his face as he pulled away. "Not a bad first day, don't you think?"
"I think it was the worst first day I've seen in years." Kurt turned around to see the owner of the voice. On an adjacent rooftop stood a tall, lean, tan man, most of his features indistinguishable thanks to the setting sun behind him. The man slowly brought his hand to his ear and spoke calmly. "Found them."
"Run!" Blaine screamed. It was pointless though, as both he and Kurt were already mindlessly sprinting across the roof, jumping over ventilation equipment or whatever stood in their way. They didn't dare glance back at the man and the reinforcements. "Jump." His friend's hissed voice barely made it to his ears, but it got there quick enough for him to make the extra effort to sprint harder right before the ledge of the roof.
Kurt imaged that if he wasn't always being chased by people who wanted to kill or capture him, he'd like a controlled jump or fall, like jumping between the roofs of buildings.
He landed on the adjacent roof in a roll, to soften the impact on his body, and jumped up ready to run again before he heard a loud grunt from behind him. He turned around and saw Blaine's hands gripping the ledge, his body invisible to Kurt. Without thinking about the consequences, he dashed forward and grabbed his friend's hands, pulling him over the edge using all of his strength.
Once the other boy was safely on his feet, Kurt took him into a tight, short embrace before they turned to run again. This time, however, they rammed straight into a muscular chest. It was a different man, Kurt could tell from the way the body was built. He took Blaine's hand and turned to run in the other direction- perhaps they could find a gutter to slide down. But instead of freedom, they saw the first man looming over them.
"Split up?" Kurt asked quietly.
"Good idea." Blaine responded, a hint of nervousness in his voice. Kurt felt bad. The poor boy was probably exhausted and wanted to lie down. He didn't know what The Gardener did to Blaine on that boat of his. He almost shuddered at the thought. "I call the new guy."
Kurt smirked a little. "You always did like showing off by taking the stronger target." He saw the smirk on Blaine's face and felt reassured. They were going to be okay. With that, Blaine leapt backwards and Kurt pulled his hand back quickly before releasing a sharp left hook.
The man was expecting a righty, apparently, since Kurt hit him square in the ear. "Little brat." The words escaped the man's lips before kicking Kurt in the stomach, causing him to stumble a few feet back.
He glanced up at his enemy. He was smarter than the other ones. He let out a shout as he flung his foot out, aiming for his neck, maybe his head. Instead of bone and cartilage, he felt a hand grab his food, twist it and push him brutally to the side. He stumbled a little before harshly falling to the ground in a heap.
Kurt bounced up and instantly started throwing punches at the man. It was easier to fight when it wasn't a five-against-one scenario, but the man seemed to be able to match every single move he made. He even tried to use some of the agility Mike had taught him during high school and incorporate it into his fighting. But every move was met by the man's limbs. "You're pathetic." The man grunted.
In that instant- everything seemed to decelerate. The man pulling Kurt towards his body, the knee to the stomach, even the pain that came along with it seemed to have slowed down. The pain hurt at different levels for longer time intervals than normal.
He felt bone crack as his head flew backwards from a punch that was delivered. Blood pooled in his mouth when he realized something. The man's voice, the one that told him he was pathetic. It was familiar. And he probably would have figured this out a lot sooner, had the man had a mohawk instead of a full head of hair.
"Puck?" The question barely made it out of his lips before Kurt fell back, unconscious.