A.N. Okay, I'm going to allow myself to rant a little here so give this paragraph a miss if you'd rather. I received a review that bothered me a great deal. Now don't get me wrong, I welcome constructive criticism and I totally understand that many people won't like my writing or my plotlines, yet not only was I offended for myself but I was also offended for the readers who do enjoy this fic. Basically the person hates the story (why read 6 chapters of a fic you hate?) and believes that in order to find enjoyment in it a person needed to have some kind of 'sadistic psychosis'. I repeat: I get why people wouldn't like reading about horrible stuff happening to Kurt BUT just consider mainstream TV dramas, or gritty movies, or crime novels; horrible stuff happens to characters all the time. Any kind of story is supposed to be a journey of sorts, and if you have read any of my completed fics you'll know that by the conclusion the victim character is usually okay and has become stronger after withstanding all the horror which they went through before. It's standard storytelling. Yes, I agree in this fic Kurt has been through hell and the plot is by no means over, but it is not so people can 'get their kicks' or to 'appease the masses', as the reviewer accused. In the last chapter Kurt finally did what all people in his position should do: he left. Was he 'weak and pliant' then? I'm rambling. All I wanted to point out was that by all means, if you don't like the story, don't read it. It's rated M for a reason. If you would like to tell me you didn't like it, that's fine too. But don't make offensive accusations and act superior just because the themes and characterisations don't fit your interests.

Okay, rant over! On a brighter note, I have at last settled in to my new home in Korea and although my work schedule is taking over my life I will hopefully have more time to write in the coming weeks. I want to make some serious headway with this fic and 'A Little Unwell' since I think about them all the time. I'm almost finished with this but still so much for Kurt to go through so we'll see if I can squeeze out another couple of chapters after this.

Please enjoy!


Being Played

Every year countless people come to New York with dreams concocted from the flashing lights and glitzy streets paved with promise and urban beauty. Kurt himself lived on such a street – or at least he had up until three hours before he had found himself on yet another trash-ridden, foul smelling dark block from hell. With his hands deep inside his pockets and his nose wet and frozen from the wintry conditions, he wondered why he had grabbed his jacket and not his more suitable hooded coat before he had left the apartment he shared with Blaine. Better yet, why hadn't he taken his cell phone or wallet? He knew the answer; he had been too preoccupied with the decision he had made to leave and everything else beyond that had not occurred to him. Now, with his body shivering, his broken wrist throbbing and with nowhere to go, Kurt was lost in the streets he had never before dared to approach before.

Further up ahead he could hear the sound of traffic and the crashing of dumpsters but the road he walked along was empty apart from abandoned cars and the occasional drunk passed out in a puddle. Kurt was at least grateful there were no other conscious people around because heavens knew they would not be outside at this hour for a respectable reason.

I need to find somewhere familiar, Kurt told himself. He couldn't have been too far from home; he had been walking for hours, sure, but he had semi-consciously walked around in circles most of that time. He was certain that if he were to walk in the right direction for ten minutes he would be somewhere he knew but the question was which was the right way? Feeling desperate and helpless, Kurt slumped against an apartment block and put his head in his hands.

Maybe he shouldn't have ran off the way he had. Perhaps it would have been better if he had stayed and sneaked back to Ohio one day Blaine was at work? But then, how long would that have taken? How many more injuries would Kurt have suffered had he stayed a moment longer? God, it killed him to see Blaine's face like that… It was moment like that which made Kurt's heart feel like things would change if he gave him just one more chance. Would Blaine ever change? How many chances would Kurt have to give?

With that question still in mind, Kurt raised his eyes as he heard rapid footsteps coming his way. A dark figure's shuffling approach made Kurt tense and he tried to merge into the wall behind him so as to not be noticed. After the man passed him, Kurt would keep going in the opposite direction. What he didn't consider, though, is that he had already been seen.

'Hey, you,' The man said gruffly, stopping a mere foot in front of Kurt. He was almost twice Kurt's size and his black leather jacket did nothing to hide the bulky body beneath it

'Yeah?' Kurt tried to look unnerved but once he saw the hard gaze in the other man's eyes his guard rose immediately.

'Money, watch, cell phone – now.'

Kurt's heart swooped up to his throat and his blood ran cold. This wasn't happening, was it? Now? 'I-I don't have anything. I've got absolutely nothing on me.' Kurt stuttered out but he knew that his honest statement wouldn't be enough.

'Bullshit.' The man sneered as he pressed Kurt against the wall. Kurt squirmed away but the man still searched every inch of him until he had to admit that Kurt was telling the truth. 'Seriously? Fuck that! You gotta have something!' The mugger was angry and he grabbed Kurt by the front of his jacket. Three rough shakes sent Kurt's head back into the brick wall behind him and he felt himself shivering uncontrollably in fear.

'L-Look, I'm sorry! I just came out for a walk, I didn't take anyth-' Before he could finish, the mugger hurled him onto the sidewalk. 'Stop - Help!' Kurt managed to scream just as the other man's foot began laying into his stomach. In a panic, Kurt tried to protect himself by bringing up his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around himself, made so much more difficult with his broken wrist screaming in agony, but this only encouraged his attacker to kick harder and to aim a few shots at Kurt's unprotected head. 'Please-! Please, leave me alone! Help!' The part of his brain still connected to sense knew that there was a good chance no one could hear him. Even those in the apartment blocks next to him wouldn't help him even if his cries could be heard; after all, for all they knew the attacker could be armed. Kurt suddenly became very aware that this could be it. People die on New York streets every day, many from attacks like these. With each blow to the head and every knock in his unguarded side Kurt's hope faded. No one was coming to help him. His father would no doubt get a phone call sometime in the next forty eight hours with some NYPD cop telling him his only child was found beaten to death in some random mugging gone horribly wrong. If only his dad were here-! No, if only Blaine were here. Blaine could protect him. Blaine would protect him. As Kurt felt his grasp on reality loosen and the darkness set in, all he could think of was 'if only Blaine were here…'

Then, Kurt felt the strangest sensation. Gravity shifted and he felt himself be rolled along the sidewalk and his head grazed the brick wall of the apartment building softly. The kicks and punches ceased but he could still feel the ground beneath him so he certainly hadn't passed out. He could hear a vague scuffle behind his back. He flinched at the unmistakable thud of fist meeting flesh and the grunts of at least two men as they struggled with each other. Who had saved him?

'Kurt?' Kurt felt a hand on his forearm and he was pulled onto his back. The world was spinning in a sickening manner and Kurt wanted to vomit but nothing was happening. All he could see was black and perhaps the vague outline of the tall building he was lying next to. Suddenly, Blaine's panicked face came into view. Kurt felt for his hand as if to make sure he wasn't imagining it and sure enough Blaine's firm grip took gentle hold of his. A hysterical sob escaped Kurt's throat with the vague realisation that Blaine was there with him, cradling him and murmuring that everything was going to be alright. The next hour after that was a blur but not once did Blaine ever leave his side.


Kurt was later told that he had remained awake throughout the whole night but to him his transition from lying bleeding on the street to being bandaged up lying in a hospital bed with the sun visible through the silky curtains occurred as if it happened instantly. The hours between these moments had gone unnoticed as Kurt's brain effectively shut itself down. The moment he truly broke out of it was when he felt Blaine's hand begin to slip out of his tight grip. 'N-no,' He stuttered out and his eyes met Blaine's instantly.

Blaine leaned over him and pressed a solid, steady kiss onto his forehead. 'Baby,' Blaine's voice came as a whisper. 'I'll be right back, I just need to speak to the officer, okay? It's alright…you're safe here.' Then, Blaine's physical connection was gone and Kurt was left feeling floundered and flustered in the private room Blaine had obviously demanded he have. He finally had a chance to regard himself. Patches of his legs bore wads of cotton taped tightly around him. A large pad was pressed against the front of his body and probably was there to ease the bruising going on underneath. The most alarming of all was the cast around his left arm. As he stared, the pain began to make itself known and it rose from stinging sensations to pure agony within seconds. His arm was broken as well as wrist? He tried to move it but discovered, like with the rest of his body, his muscles did not respond. His only free hand still grabbed the air for the return of Blaine's hold. His breathing quickened and he tossed his head around willing for comfort as tears finally tore from his eyes.

Another hour or two passed in a hazy flash. Medical staff came in and spoke to him numerous times and each time Kurt inwardly questioned if he was giving coherent and correct answers to their interrogations. Blaine was back at his side – although he hadn't noticed when he had returned – and murmured something along the lines of the police were here to talk to him. Kurt nodded and pulled Blaine closer. Blaine seemed only too willing to comply. As the world started to become less and less fuzzy, Kurt was introduced to two officers. The first asked general questions about Kurt's life – easy answers which came out automatically. As his words were written into tiny notebooks, the second officer took to the floor.

'Kurt, why were you on that particular street so late at night? Is this something you do often?'

Kurt shook his head. 'No, sir.' He felt like a child under the intense gazes around him and he looked down to avoid them. 'I-I had a fright with my boyfriend and had left. I was walking. I-I don't know how I ended up there, I wasn't thinking straight.'

The officer hummed and turned his attention to Blaine. 'And you just happened to find him?' His tone was sceptical.

Blaine shrugged as if he hadn't noticed the tone at all. 'I had pretty much gone out looking for him right after he left. Like Kurt said, we had a fight and I knew I had to find him and tell him that he was right. I asked everyone I passed if they had saw him, and it was through pure luck that eventually I asked someone who had noticed him only minutes before. I headed in the direction they gave and then I heard him screaming.'

Kurt stared at him, unblinking. 'Really?'

Blaine met his gaze and brought Kurt's hand up to his mouth to kiss. 'Baby, I am so sorry I made you want to leave like that.' Understandably, he was avoiding talking about the reason behind Kurt's departure, but the fact he was bringing it up at all seemed amazing. 'If it hadn't been for me you never would have ran into that guy.'

The first officer sighed heavily. 'If it hadn't been for you, Kurt might not have been so lucky.'

Kurt nodded to that sentiment. His emotions at that moment felt unsteady and ever-changing but one thing was for certain: he had never been so painfully happy to have Blaine there with him. His presence alone radiated safety despite part of his injuries coming from Blaine himself. 'If Kurt hadn't called my name I might never have known it was him in trouble.' Blaine hummed. He caught Kurt's confused expression. 'Baby, you don't remember calling for me?'

Kurt shook his head. 'I remember calling for help, but…'

Blaine stroked his cheek, smiling softly. 'You were in a panic; I don't expect you to remember everything.'

The officers shifted uncomfortably but Kurt hardly noticed, just like he had apparently not noticed himself screaming for Blaine to safe him. He supposed it made sense, seeing as he was terrified and has thought about his boyfriend in what he believed to be his 'final moments'. He eventually just nodded in understanding. His grip on Blaine's hand tightened when the questioning continued and the first officer asked about the attacker's appearance. Kurt hadn't thought about the man until then, and his body began to shiver as flashes of memory hit him like bolt of lightning. 'Uh…I-I think he was about six foot three, six foot four… He was big – I mean, big built, with huge shoulders.

'Facial features?'

'He had a lot of stubble. Pale, with a wide nose. His hair was dark and long, and I think he was wearing something like a hunters hat.'

'What else was he wearing?'

'He was almost all in black.' Kurt nodded to himself. Unsurprisingly the sharpest part of his memory involved clothing. 'Black leather jacket – a G-1 knock off, I think. His pants were covered in oil but almost like he had smeared it on himself. My dad owns a car repair shop so I know the difference. And he was wearing a clean pair of converse.'

The officer scribbled these details down and for the first time Kurt felt like he might have actually been helpful.

'Uh, sorry, but I have to say I think you might be confused, Kurt.' Blaine stole away Kurt's good feeling. Both he and the officers turned their gazes to him. 'I fought the guy off and I remember him perfectly. He wasn't wearing anything on his head – he had a buzz cut. He did have a leather jacket but it was over a one-piece factory uniform and work boots.' Kurt shook his head as if to argue but could immediately tell the officers agreed that after Kurt's trauma there was a good chance he was confused. Feeling overwhelmed and doubting even himself, Kurt sat back in his bed and let Blaine lead the discussion until the police excused themselves for the day. After all, Blaine no doubt wanted the attacker caught sooner than anyone. Kurt tightened his grip on Blaine's warm hand again and clutched it close.


The cup of soup from one of the hospital's numerous vending machines tasted positively revolting. Blaine winced as the boiling hot broth touched his tongue and he pulled the offending cup away before it could do him any more harm. 'Ugh.'

'Not a fan of hospital food, are you?' Tony's voice called from behind him down the corridor.

Blaine turned and grinned at his agent. 'You some of a bitch, come to savour saving my day?' He clapped him on the back and lowered his voice to just above a murmur. 'You were totally right; it all worked like a charm.'

Tony nodded and seemed very pleased with himself. ' I told you it would work – my guy's a professional. How bad did he get him?'

Blaine glanced back towards Kurt's closed door. 'Bad. I did as you said; I held off as long as I could until I could tell it was almost over then I pulled him off. He broke his arm and a few ribs but nothing that can't be repaired.'

Tony nudged him, laughing playfully. 'Enter Dr Anderson. I hope you don't go all nurse-patient on him. Remember Bambie-boy may look all innocent but he brought all this on himself.'

'I know, I know.'

'Buddy, listen,' Tony pulled Blaine close to whisper in his ear. 'The kid is cute so I get why you're so hooked on him, but after you get that ring on his finger I don't want you holding back. He needs to be punished, right?'

Blaine paused before nodding. He didn't look convinced. 'Right. I just…I don't think this whole plan got him to that stage, you know?' Blaine's hand fidgeted in his pocket where a white gold wedding ring perched inside a small box. 'He's clinging to me and all that shit, which is great, but I don't know how far his gratitude will stretch. I hurt him bad before, Ton.'

The two men stood in silence for a few moments and allowed the constant quiet telephone rings and tannoy announcements from the hospital to wash over them. Finally, Tony patted Blaine's back firmly. 'Just give me a minute with him, alright? Let me make sure his head is where we need it to be.'

Blaine agreed and pointed towards Kurt's private room door and then stood back and hoped for the best.


Kurt had always hated hospitals. It was a stupid thing to admit since hardly anyone should have any reason to feel differently, but Kurt had spent more time in these buildings than the average guy. Early on in childhood his immune system was poor and he required a lot of treatment annually. Then, when he was a little over six years old, his mother began taking more frequent trips herself until she was at last admitted permanently. No one had told Kurt that she was never going to come home so each time he visited he promised her there would be a freshly picked bouquet of flowers waiting for her when she was let out. Even after her death Kurt found himself in the hospital as his father had to deal with the financial side of the medical expenses. Then, of course, Kurt's dad himself took ill and yet again Kurt found himself practically living on the uncomfortable barely-padded furniture with his father's nurses sneaking him patient meals when they could. Kurt had hoped, with his father's return home, it would be a while before he would have to see the depressingly whitewashed walls of another hospital.

Having been left alone by the doctors to rest, Kurt closed his eyes and sighed deeply. So much for that hope.

'So you're alive, then?'

Kurt opened his eyes wide at the sound of the frustratingly familiar voice. Standing by his door was Tony dressed in a smartly pressed grey Armani suit. He seemed very out of place standing in the hospital ward and certainly did not look too thrilled to be there in the first place. Kurt managed to get himself upright again out of natural politeness but he couldn't muster the energy to look in any way happy to see him. 'Just about.'

Tony frowned and regarded Kurt's appearance, injuries and the machinery he was hooked up to. 'Just about, indeed.' He sighed and looked up along the ward as if checking no one else was around before drawing his dead eyes to Kurt. 'You were lucky. You know that right?' Kurt nodded silently, which Tony could only scowl at. 'I know what went on before you were jumped on, alright? If I had been in Blaine's position I'd have just left you.'

'I know-'

'You owe him your life. So here's a little insight into the real world; anything that guys wants, you give it. Got it?' Tony had lowered his sharp tone so as no one nearby could overhear and he leaned forward whilst taking care not to actually enter the room itself. 'Think of what he saved you from – what he saved your family from going through. Stop being a little whiny bitch and start showing some goddamn gratitude.'

Kurt felt his eyes begin to sting in tears as he was berated. Tony was right, of course; Kurt owed Blaine more than just his life. So much more. 'I know.' He gulped out.

Tony stared at him a little longer until he seemed satisfied with Kurt's reaction. 'Good.' He started to adjust his tie and smooth his crisp suit jacket down. 'So you know how you can start showing your appreciation, right?' Before leaving he tapped the base of his ring finger and gave Kurt a knowing look. Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, Tony was gone with only the click of his dress shoes echoing down the corridor.


Kurt felt sick to his stomach when his nurse announced it was breakfast time. Memories of watching his mother force down spoonful's of lumpy grey porridge was almost enough for him to refuse whatever meal offered to him. However, to his utter surprise, breakfast consisted of a selection of fresh fruits – his favourites nonetheless – and a still-warm roll with fillings on the side. Blaine set the tray down in front of him and murmured that he had had a word with the nurse on breakfast duty.

'Only the best for you, baby.'

Kurt couldn't stop the relieved grin spreading across his face and he shuffled as far as he could towards Blaine, who was already smearing a delicious layer of jam along the insides of the roll. 'You didn't have to…'

'I wanted to. Now, come on, eat.' Blaine smiled and brought the roll to Kurt's mouth. Kurt obeyed. The events of the previous night were still raw in his mind, terrifying him whenever he accidently allowed himself to think about it, but oddly enough the fight he had with Blaine a mere few hours before that seemed like a distant and cloudy memory. Perhaps it was the drugs he was hooked up to? Still, Blaine's loving grasp around him told him that none of that mattered now. Kurt had effectively abandoned him yet Blaine still loved and cared for him enough power through hours of blistering cold night, following him into the bad side of town and beating off the guy who probably would have ended Kurt's life without a second thought - all just to bring his one true love home again. That had to be pure love, right? Sure, their relationship wasn't perfect, but they had the right emotional foundation to fix that. What other option did Kurt have? To be on his own again? He was out on his own for barely three hours and he almost died. It was obvious now that Kurt had not considered just how much support and protection he had with the first and only boy he had ever loved. What's more, Blaine had saved his life and, as Tony had privately pointed out, Kurt owed him. And there was one thing Blaine had wanted very badly, only Kurt had been afraid to consider it before now. He caught sight of Blaine's smile at the corner of his eye and decided that he would tell him now.

'Listen, Blaine…' Kurt pushed away his half-eaten roll and shuffled away from the breakfast tray. Blaine's gaze became filled with concern but Kurt comforted him by stroking his fine face gently. 'I still haven't thanked you for what you did. For…finding me.'

Blaine tried to shush him with 'Baby, let's not talk about this now…' but Kurt continued.

'You know we have problems b-but like you said; we can work through it together. I love you-'

'Kurt, I love you too.' As he pressed kisses on Kurt's open palm, Blaine's eyes glittered with the resounding hope that Kurt was his again. Kurt knew his thoughts, and nodded as if to confirm them.

'That's why, if you'll still have me, I want to marry you. Whenever, wherever. I want to prove to you that I'm committed to you just like you showed me last night. When you…you know. I want to start my life with you properly so we never have to be apart.'

Blaine's mouth opened a little as he took in Kurt's words. Kurt held his breath. 'Baby, you're serious?' His voice came out as a whisper. 'You're sure you're ready?'

Gulping inwardly, Kurt nodded. Of course I am, he told himself. The painfully tight knot in his stomach was just butterflies, and the stretched feeling down his throat was just the after-effect of screaming Blaine's name. It made sense to him – it had to – because who else could Kurt trust to be there for him? Blaine's own problems could be sorted through therapy and that was surely something he would agree to in return for Kurt's complete marital devotion. Yes. Yes, this had to be true. Kurt kept the smile on his face as he tried not to think about signing away his fate. Blaine loved him, he knew that now, and that's all that mattered.


Tony: Did Baby-Boy crack? Did your agent do good? – 10.59am

Blaine: I believe the phrase is 'Hook, line and sinker'? Sign up the band, the boy will be mine on New Year's Day. – 11.14am

Tony: Dude, kudos! Leave all the details to me, just get lover boy under the thumb again and I will see you for pre-celebratory drinks at my New Year's Eve party. Bring the bitch if you can keep him under control. ;) – 11.22am


A.N. So close to the end now! Bit all-over-the-place in this chapter but again it's because I'm too busy thinking about the next chapter which I hope will be pretty important for our little Kurt. Please review if you have time!