Violence warnings for this chapter: general violence, blood, near death experience (?)

Before Kurt could say anything in response the door opened again, Smythe's face appearing in the sliver of light. Without pausing to think, Kurt drew back his fist and brought it hard across Sebastian's face, the smashing noise of flesh hitting flesh surprising Kurt more than the flare of pain across his knuckles. He watched Smythe take several stumbling steps back before he thought to block his counter-attack. Blaine moved faster, grabbing Sebastian with a fist full of his clothes and launching him headfirst into the closet, slamming the door shut behind him and keeping it closed with the weight of his body, even as Sebastian slammed and yelled on the other side.

"Run!"

Kurt took one lunging leap towards the front door before thinking better of it, spinning ridiculously mid step and coming back to Blaine.

"No."

"What?"

"No, you don't get to save me again! I came here with you out of my own stupidity and I'll be damned if I can't get myself out of here on my own, without any help from you."

Pulling the knife he'd kept in his belt ever since Blaine gave it to him Kurt shoved a still shocked and pliant Blaine out of the way. Smythe stumbled onto his face in the hall, Kurt wasting no time in straddling his chest, holding his knife threateningly over Smythe's face.

"Scream again and lose an eye, Sebby."

"Kurt?" Blaine said above him.

Kurt ignored him, his threat worked, Smythe's mouth clamped tight, his eyes darting back and forth between Kurt's face and his knife.

"Ok Blaine, now you run."

"What?" Blaine squawked.

It made sense in some capacity in Kurt's mind, or it had a second ago anyway. "Thats right, I get to rescue you now."

Blaine didn't move.

"Just go!" Kurt said furiously.

Blaine lunged at Kurt, pulling him bodily off Smythe by the collar of his shirt, muttering something about being ridiculous, before Kurt's feet returned to the ground. Smythe was rubbing warily at his eyes, like he couldn't quite be certain he still had them both, getting to his feet much quicker than what Kurt would have liked. Without another word Kurt and Blaine sprinted to the front door.

They almost fell over each other at the door when Blaine tried to shove Kurt through ahead of him, Kurt trying to step aside and let Blaine through first at the same time. They ended up squeezing through the door at once, just as an arrow landed with a thunk in the door frame just inches from them. Kurt turned back to see Santana aiming a crossbow from the landing of the stairs.

Kurt looked wildly to the woods, the safety of the trees seemed impossibly far away, they had an entire hill to climb down before they got there, Santana and Smythe surely right behind them.

Blaine threw himself on the ground catching his weight on his hands and pushing himself over so that he rolled in a tight line down the hill, Kurt thought he heard something like 'faster this way' and didn't argue, launching himself after him.

As it turned out, rolling down an incline isn't much more efficient than running down it. In an instant Santana was on them, she ran along side them a few paces, screaming, before Kurt caught a fractured glimpse of her catapulting herself at Blaine, the two of them rolling on top of one another a few feet. It wasn't a pretty sight, both of them scratching blindly at skin, tugging on clothes and hair, screaming unintelligibly at the top of their lungs.

Kurt managed to stop the momentum of his rolling, getting shakily to his feet and walking a very crooked line towards the scrabbling pair as fast as his dizzied mind would allow. He managed to pull Santana off of Blaine, holding her around the waist while she struggled to get at him again.

"Wait, can we just talk about this for a minute?" Kurt blurted out when Santana made to lurch at Blaine again as he got to his feet, desperate to make some sense of the fight he had gotten himself in the middle of. Santana's whole body was shuddering, alarmed, Kurt realized she was sobbing.

"What the hell?" Kurt muttered before realizing that wasn't the most comforting way to start a conversation. "Are you ok?"

Santana was still staring at Blaine, livid. It struck Kurt as more than just anger over some stolen jewels. A look at Blaine confirmed it, Blaine watching Santana, looking lost and guilt ridden, blood on his cheek from where she had scratched him, the neck of his shirt stretched and hanging loose from her pulling at it. "How long have you known?" Blaine asked quietly. It wasn't what Kurt expected to hear, gaping at Blaine and waiting for an explanation.

Kurt felt Santana's breathing deepen and realized he was still holding her tightly around the waist, letting her ago immediately and taking a step back.

"Known what?" It was painfully obvious Kurt was missing something.

Santana and Blaine chose to ignore the question. "Ever since you took his box I had a pretty good idea of it, it was foolish of you, he wouldn't have told anyone about that box, except, of course, for Blaine."

Blaine, his name sounded strange on her lips and suddenly it clicked, Santana had known him from before.

"Once the idea was in my head it was hard to miss the resemblance between the lost boy and my pesky problem of a thief. You've done a fine job re-making yourself though, I'm not surprised no one else has caught on. Timid little Blaine, always so uncertain, frightened of his own shadow, never speaking up for himself, no one ever doubted that you perished along with him that night. No one thought twice about the way the wiry dark haired stranger bore an uncanny resemblance to the late young master Anderson. I didn't believe it myself until I saw you with him," Santana pointed a finger at Kurt, it felt like an accusation. "For the briefest second I thought he was Jonathan. How could I? When I saw them bury his broken body but still I thought it, but it was enough to know beyond a doubt Robin Hood was actually long lost Blaine Anderson, that he, that you, had survived."

"I don't understand," Kurt said, the tension filled conversation was getting to him, he'd heard too much today, everything was getting mixed up, Kurt was trying vaguely to match up Santana's story with the fractured bits he knew about Blaine's past, the idyllic life he had left, the childhood friend he never mentioned by name, the scar on his side.

"He died because of you Blaine! My sweet brother sneaking around at night. He wouldn't have been there, he would have been safe, but he was seeing YOU! He died to save you. YOU KILLED HIM!"

Blaine had his face hidden in his hands, Kurt could tell he was crying, his shoulders shook as he muttered, "I know, I know, I'm sorry,"

"Sorry doesn't bring him back." Santana snapped.

When Blaine spoke again his voice was low and measured. "I loved him too you know."

Santana looked like she wasn't ready to stop being angry, she shook slightly, her hands balling into fists, the movement drew Blaine's eyes. "What do you want Santana? Revenge? You want to hurt me, you want to kill me?" Blaine said, he sounded ruined, scrabbling at Kurt's belt for the knife there and placing it firmly in Santana's hand, "then do it," he said with a snarl. "Do it if it will make you feel better, it doesn't matter anymore."

There was a heavy pause where Kurt's mind skipped insanely in a thousand different directions, his mouth gaping open as he tried to form words. Kurt saw the way Santana's knuckles were turning white from her grip on her knife, his knife, and God she looked furious and crazed and Blaine kind of looked the same way and how the hell had he gotten in the middle of this but just "STOP! Stop, stop. Are you all insane?" Then Santana's lip twisted into a sick smirk and God that couldn't possibly be good.

Santana lurched at Kurt, in an instant she had the knife up at his throat, her arm around his chest. Kurt didn't dare move, feeling the edge of the blade digging into his skin.

"What do you think Blaine, his life for Jon's?"

"No," it was barely more than a whisper. "No! I swear to God Santana, leave him alone, Kurt has nothing to do with this!"

"But you love him don't you? I can tell. Still dragging the people you care about down with you. Won't you ever learn?"

"Santana! Please." Blaine's voice broke, but there was nothing he could do.

Kurt felt the knife dig a little dipper, a warm trickle of blood tickling down his throat. He didn't think to plead, didn't think to beg or reason for his freedom. A numb awareness that this was the end settled over him, blocking everything else out, a grey, comforting haze. Thinking vaguely that he should be panicking, a jolt of pain for how distraught his father would be and he let the grey take over.

He looked at Blaine, who didn't look right, not with his eyes wide and panicked, Kurt pulling up an images of Blaine smiling at him instead, the way he had stared, wondrous, after they kissed at the waterfall, what it felt like to wake up next to him. It seemed absurd to think that he would never see him smile again, yet here he was at the end, that simple fact was rather freeing, freeing enough that Kurt gave Blaine a very small sad smile.

Kurt understood he didn't really care. Didn't care about why they met, decided it didn't really matter that Blaine had made horrible plans that he never fulfilled, didn't care that Blaine's adventures would be the death of him. He'd lived more at Blaine's side than he had the rest of his short life and he realized the last gift he could give him in return was some small peace of mind.

"I love you Blaine, and I forgive you, for everything." Kurt closed his eyes and waited.

It could have been seconds, or hours, Kurt was lost in dark timeless space. Waiting.

What he didn't expect was a hard shove on his back, the unexpected force sending him sprawling to the ground, his cheek and palms against scratchy grass, feeling the concrete reality of the ground, there was a light sting at his throat but he was very much alive, the knife falling with a light thump at his side. "I want it back. You have until dusk tomorrow."

Kurt pushed himself out of the grass, far enough to see Santana stalking back up the hill, the image put him in mind of a madwoman, flyaway hair, the sleeve of her dress ripped nearly completely off, her skirt billowing in a light breeze that lifted the hair off Kurt's forehead, it smelled like a storm.

Blaine was at his side, his hand tentative on his back and Kurt knew instinctively he was watching Santana as well, neither of them saying anything for a long time.

Finally, Kurt pulled himself up until he was sitting crisscross, Blaine looked beyond frazzled, his eyes darting wildly all over Kurt.

"What. the. hell." Kurt murmured.

Blaine gurgled out an exhausted laugh. "That didn't exactly go as I had planned."

"You don't say."

Blaine scooted a half inch closer to Kurt, his hand hovering near his neck, "are you alright?"

Kurt swatted his hand away, touching the stinging cut in his neck, his fingers came away bloody but it didn't feel deep.

"Its nothing."

Blaine looked relieved, "I shouldn't have brought you here Kurt, that was more than stupid. I didn't think Santana knew, didn't think she'd be so angry, its not the first time curiosity has gotten the better of me."

"I can think for myself."

"I know you can."

"At least you know what she was after now."

"I guess, though to be honest I don't know if Santana even knew what she was doing, having people look for me."

"Grief does strange things to people."

Another long pause before, "I mean what I said when, well when I thought Santana was going to kill me." Blaine was watching him like he was about to reveal the secrets of the universe and he had to clear his throat before he could continue. "But I'm going to need some time, before, before I can see you. Can you understand that?"

"Of course, of course," Blaine hand's were restless, and Kurt knew he wanted to touch him but was holding back, "whatever you need. I'll wait for you, as long as it takes."

"I don't really want to talk anymore."

"Thats fine Kurt."

"But I want to know. You and Sebastian are finished?"

"Completely."

"And, um with Jonathan, I don't need to know what happened, you can tell me when you're ready, but..."

"You're wondering if I'm still in love with him? "

Kurt nodded, not looking at Blaine.

"Jonathan was my best friend, but we were never lovers."

Kurt nodded feeling distinctly awkward, but he needed to know. "Ok. Ok Thanks." Kurt got shakily to his feet. "I'll go then. I know how to get home from here."

Blaine gave him a small smile, Kurt starting to walk away.

"I'm sorry. For what happened to him." He hoped it was enough for Blaine to know what he meant, he couldn't say more.

"Thank you. And thank you for not giving up on me, you don't know what that means to me."

"I wouldn't do it for anyone else."

"I- I love you too. You know that right?"

Kurt nodded, there was nothing else to say, not now, and walked away.

It started raining before Kurt was halfway back to the manor, by the time he let himself in, he was drenched, his clothes sticking to his skin, the tears he'd been holding in for what seemed like hours mingling with the rain as he let go.