Disclaimer: I don't own Glee

A/N: my apologies for not updating in over a month, I am definitely going to finish this fic, to any of those who think I'm giving it up. Unfortunately, I've suffered a loss in the family and it's hit me harder than I expected (one of those 'I'm in denial' things). Anyway, I've still got a clear eye on where I want this story to go, but it might take a bit for updates, I hope you guys can understand. Thank you for sticking with me so far, I'll do my best to punch out the chapters :)

Also. I got an anon reader suggesting I change the genre from Romance to Horror. I'm considering it, but only because I haven't hit the romance bit yet, what do you guys think, should I switch it?

…

Chapter Fourteen

Panic and Pollen 162+

…

The sound of raspy wheezes in the distance were what greeted her when she felt herself float from unconsciousness. Her throat felt painfully tight and cold, as if she'd spent the entire night sleeping in the cold surrounded by dust. Her eyes were heavy in the sense that she was sure they were red rimmed and possibly bruised. Her entire body was cold, skin brushing against very stiff and rough fabric that couldn't possibly be her pajamas. The bed she was lying on felt more like a plastic board than anything fluffy. The sanitized smell of wherever she was, burning in her nostrils.

The light against her eyelids that had awoken her demanded her reluctant attention. She opened her eyes and was faced with a white tiled ceiling.

This wasn't her bedroom.

The wheezing was coming from her.

She felt so weak she could barely move a muscle. She swallowed thickly, her throat tightening terribly at the contact of hot saliva. She coughed to get the irritating lump out, but it remained.

She eyed the small white room she found herself in. A small, strangely familiar desk by a strangely familiar barred window. She recognized the stale décor, and forced herself to sit up, squeezing her eyes shut from the effort. Whatever had been done to her, it was done very well, her sense of balance was warped. As soon as she managed to sit up, she immediately tipped to the side, almost falling off the bed. Her dark hair fluttered over her face from the movement, but she didn't have the energy to brush it away. She stayed hunched over on her side, taking careful breaths as she tried to get her bearings.

She wasn't sure what she was doing here, but she needed to get out. She needed to get home and…

What…what was it that she had waiting at home? Something important. Something…

She shut her eyes tightly again and tried to remember. It was easier to keep her eyes shut and think clearly than have the room spinning when they were open.

Someone was at her house. Someone she needed to help. He was very important to her.

He…

Finn…

Finn!

"Oh god," she whispered, images of fighting off paramedics flooding back to the surface. "Oh god," she trembled.

The thunder of a heavy door opening made her flinch and look up. A male nurse entered with a trolley full of bottles and little tools that didn't make her feel any sense of security.

"Good morning, Rachel," the nurse said cheerfully, dimples dotting both his cheeks as he put on blue rubber gloves, "I'm Eric, I'll be one of your nurses during your stay here."

"There's…there's been a mistake," Rachel rasped, shaking her head as she watched the brunet prepare a syringe, "I don't belong here. I'm perfectly healthy – "

"We're just taking precaution," Eric cut in gently, piercing a little bottle of clear liquid. Rachel was already inching away from him, eyeing the open door behind him longingly, and let out a little squeal when he grabbed her arm and rubbed an alcohol soaked cotton ball on a big vein just above her forearm. "Don't be scared it's just a sedative, we just need to go through a few tests and then you'll be sent back home."

"My parents – "

"Have already given us the okay," he took her arm again, more to keep her from crawling away from him again. "It's for your own good, I promise."

"No, please," she begged weakly, pulling at his hand, "let me go, I want to go home, please let me go – "

A cry ripped from her throat as the needle pierced into her skin. She could feel the clear liquid pump into her veins and spread like little claws of burning hell through her system. She fell back against the plastic bed, mouth agape in silent agony, body shuddering almost violently.

All throughout she could only think of one thing.

Eric had lied. This wasn't a sedative. What the hell did he give her?

…

When Kurt stirred himself awake, it was to the uncomfortable ache in his neck, the steady vibrations of his seat, the low rumbling of a very familiar engine, and a warm hand gently holding his.

Someone was driving his baby, and it wasn't him.

Whoever it was, was going to die.

He opened his eyes and saw bare snow clumped trees washing by outside his window, cars zooming by at a speed that was only sensible in…

Highways.

Now fully awake, Kurt spun around in his seat to face the driver and gaped.

Finn gave him a glance before slouching in his seat looking sheepish, his grip on the wheel tightened.

"Kurt," he said, trying and failing to sound innocent, "you're awake."

"Where the hell are we going?" Kurt demanded softly.

"Uh…"

"Finn...why are you driving my car?"

"Um…" he worried his lip nervously, Kurt continued to watch him calmly, making Finn squirm in his seat, "there was nothing I could do," he blurted, "they had us surrounded, I had them distracted for one second, so I made a break for it – please don't hate me for it, man, I really don't want to go back there, I just barely escaped once!"

"What about Rachel?" Kurt asked quietly, the slight tremor giving away his scarcely contained fury, "what about her parents? And Sam?"

Finn's face dropped in regret, "there really wasn't anything I could do," he repeated more soberly, "by the time I grabbed you, they already took her away, I wanted to save her, I wanted to save everyone, but there was too much going on. We were surrounded, I just acted on instinct."

Kurt stared at the road ahead walled in by trees. So much for hoping to never use his college funds for pit stops. "What are they going to do to her?"

Finn shrugged, "question her I guess? Technically she's not crazy like me, so there shouldn't be any need for them to keep her as a patient." Kurt winced at how casually his stepbrother labeled himself as crazy. "They…can't do anything too bad to her right?"

Kurt thought back to the documents Finn showed him, and the bewilderment of his and Rachel's faces when they were handed their own alien coded profiles. If Apate had information on Rachel, and they really were responsible for whatever was going on with the victims of the suicide epidemic, then Apate was going to do more than question Rachel.

They would probably make her a victim too.

But he couldn't add that to Finn's growing pile of emotional stress.

"Well, she's not a victim is she," he said instead, "and she can take care of herself."

Finn nodded, "right."

Both didn't believe themselves. They fell into a tense silence for a few minutes until Kurt took notice of Finn glancing at his mirrors a little too often.

"Are we being followed?" he asked, unable to resist looking back for any black vans.

"We were," Finn admitted, "I've been driving for a while, I lost them after switching routes, but it doesn't hurt to keep checking."

Kurt took a deep breath as he nodded. Okay. He had to keep calm. They were running away obviously, with no real destination, and no one to help them but themselves. There was no knowing how long this escapade was going to be, and by the end of it he'd probably have a face full of blackheads, blemishes, and all the wonderful hygienic faults that came with being a teenager seeing as he left all his creams and cleansers at home.

He was definitely going to murder Finn by the end of this. Right after putting Laurence Niac through a slow and torturous death, of course.

But he had to stay calm for now. See the bright side of things. He was taking a road trip alone with Finn, that was nice. The only consequence was his friend suffering at the hands of Apate, but if they made the trip fast, she wouldn't have to suffer for long, right? Right. Besides, Finn wanted to go to Babylon, and now he was getting his wish. It was going to cost him gas money, and random expenses for snacks and motels, but that was okay, because they were going to Babylon, the stupid city that housed the woman responsible for the epidemic and possibly even more people like Laurence.

Yes. Everything was going to be fine.

"So…" his voice shook slightly with ill contained anger, he cleared his throat again, "any specific place you have in mind? Or is it just Babylon or bust?"

Finn winced, he recognized that tone. "Actually…I've been kind of driving in circles…I don't…well…"

"Finn?" Kurt cut in sweetly, "how much gas do we have?"

"It's…almost empty?" he shrank in his seat, waiting for the impending blow up. It didn't happen, and that just made things more terrifying. "I'm…sorry…"

Kurt huffed and rubbed his eyes. "Right," he checked his watch, it read two in the afternoon. Just at that moment his stomach chose to growl. So he'd been knocked out for more than a few hours and his last meal was breakfast at around eight in the morning, perfect. Finn was probably starving worse than him.

And he'd been driving this whole time. Without getting a wink of sleep.

Kurt looked ahead for any signs, spying a few exits and speed limits, and…

An exit to Mansfield, Ohio?

Kurt's right eye twitched. Mansfield wasn't so far from Lima that it would take almost seven freaking hours to get there. Exactly what kind of zigzag driving was Finn doing while he'd been out?

"Take the next exit," he gave a long suffering sigh, "you're so lucky I brought my wallet," he grabbed his messenger bag sitting between them, silently grateful that he never took it out of the car when they went to Rachel's house.

Finn relaxed somewhat. This was a Kurt he could deal with. He gave him a lopsided smile and took the exit.

…

Six rows of vials sat neatly in the steel box, clear liquid glittering against the sunlight. Nurse Jackie stared at them vacantly. One of the vials was empty, its contents already leaving the system of the blond boy lying curled in the corner of their small motel room.

Pollen 162.

Or an advanced version of it.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Jackie picked up a full vial, looking at the label but not really seeing it.

With the new orders sent out throughout the country, Laurence had become a busy man. According to him, he had no time to go on a wild goose chase after an escaped patient and his brother. So the job was handed down to her. She had no idea why. Her profession lied in medicine, she knew nothing about going after two kids who would probably make her life hell in trying to capture them.

This was all just so the Pollen could be tested out.

Jackie set the vial on the small tray; she then ripped open a fresh needle and went about preparing a syringe.

Laurence's hypnotism was powerful, but not enough to stretch long distances. No one, but Jackie knew this. It was probably another reason why he chose her. It was also probably why he never used his ability on her. She supposed she'd have to thank their childhood friendship for that.

Because Laurence's power weakened if his subjects went out of his mental reach, he went into developing a more powerful Pollen to make up for that distance. Jackie scoffed, tapping the syringe and holding it up against the light. It was only supposed to be a fleeting idea to toy around with. Testing it was never an option.

She turned to face the trembling teen, a part of her twisting in guilt at what she was about to do.

"Sam," she said gently, kneeling next to him. He jumped at her voice, bloodshot eyes looking up fearfully. As soon as he saw the syringe in her hand he quickly threw his arm out for her, eyes begging her to go on and do it. She wanted to toss the offending syringe out the window.

Instead she rubbed the abused skin with a cotton ball, wrapped a rubber band around his arm, and pierced the bulging vein in one shot.

Sam shuddered and whimpered, falling back against the floor. Jackie watched helplessly as the boy continued writhing, slowly coming down into faint shivers. He sat up gingerly, the pained expression from before wiped clean from his haggard face. Jackie forced him to look at her.

One eye was blue. The other was black.

It worked. Again.

Jackie pushed him away in self disgust. She hurriedly packed away the vials and grabbed her small suitcase. Sam remained on the floor, pacified by the new Pollen. Jackie pointedly kept her eyes from him. She couldn't fall into the dangerous waters of sympathy again. It was easier to hold her tongue at the institution where there were dozens of other patients to look after. But assigning her to only one was going to test her resilience.

And it didn't help that this boy had some serious puppy eyes.

This was a jab. She knew it. After protesting the increase in dosages of an already powerful drug, this was definitely punishment. Laurence was probably laughing in his throne right now. Son of a bitch.

"Let's go," she called, already heading out the door.

…

When Rachel assured her that they'd find a doctor for her, she didn't expect it to be so…unique.

In order to hide her therapy sessions from her parents, Mercedes had been taking a few trips with friends to 'the mall' when really they were going to different spots around town to meet with Dr. Hope. Mercedes didn't think much of the name, other than it gave her some small hope that everything would be okay.

Then she met the man, a frail pale young man with too big glasses, very 1940's attire, and a funny looking peacock feather lodged behind his ear. Mercedes was under the impression that a gust of wind would blow the poor man away.

That is until he spoke and ran around the room like a kid on crack.

Which was what he was doing now, looking through the wall of bookcases surrounding his home while Mercedes relaxed in one of the mismatched chairs decorating his office. This was the second time she had entered her therapist's home since their sessions started. The place was a pigsty. She was sure Quinn was trying hard not to come in contact with anything in the other room, and with the books and random gizmo's cluttered everywhere, Mercedes could imagine the blonde was feeling trapped. She wondered if maybe she should have sent her off to wander around the mall or something until today's session was over.

Rachel was supposed to accompany her today, but she wasn't answering her phone so Quinn was the only other option. Kurt wasn't answering his phone either.

The therapy was working though, so she couldn't complain about the mess or the secret meetings around town.

She could still see instances of the black and white clown, but they had become more distant and less terrifying. The hunger for blood was gone from his eyes, now he simply looked like the make-up on his face. Sad.

She wasn't sure what that meant, but it didn't occupy her mind as much as the new discovery she and Dr. Hope stumbled upon.

"You're family has no history on this kind of…how shall I put this," Dr. Hope tapped his chin excitedly, "genetic mutation?" Mercedes wrinkled her nose, "evolution? Of course…there could always be something funky in the water…you could have made contact with some kind of gas or substance that somehow changed your DNA into giving you this unique ability."

Mercedes arched an eyebrow, "or maybe I'm just an awesome singer," she deadpanned.

"Whatever the case, as much as I'd love to delve into this mystery, I don't have the resources to even get an inkling of how this amazing ability came to fruition," he crossed his arms, actually pouting. Even his peacock feather seemed to droop in disappointment.

"Hold on a second, I can't afford to find anyone else," Mercedes stood up in alarm, almost knocking the chair to the floor, "I'm still seeing things, why don't we just concentrate on that?"

Dr. Hope paced around the room, "sending you to Apate would be the only answer – they have the resources and they're nearby," Mercedes's face fell, "but I know you don't want to go there, and with your friends backing you up I'm starting to think that place is probably not best either…" he adjusted his huge glasses which were sliding down his nose. "And you have been improving since I first saw you…" he snapped his fingers, a huge grin lighting up his face, "I have a friend in New York who's studying genetics! With your parent's permission we could…" his face fell again, Mercedes sank back in her chair, "that's right, they don't…I could call her over but she's so busy and – "

Both jumped at the sound of the front door slamming open. There was the thundering of several people rushing into the living room accompanied by a terrified scream from Quinn. Mercedes made to go see what was happening, but Dr. Hope held her back and grabbed a crooked golf club perched by one of the many book piled tables. He silently slinked towards the door, but before he got there, a large man in white grabbed him by the neck and shoved him against his book case.

Too scared to scream, Mercedes stumbled to her feet and backed away as more men hurried in. Just as they approached her, a thin man dressed in black entered and approached the choking Dr. Hope.

"Hello, doctor, I'm Laurence Niac a representative of Apate. We are not here to harm you," he said soothingly, "we came upon your call to apprehend the two girls, whom you've never met, who broke into your home and tried to rob you." Dr. Hope coughed under the EMT's grip, weakening and feeling disoriented. The golf club clattered to the floor.

Mercedes clammed up at the name Laurence Niac. It was happening. Everything she was afraid of was happening. They were going to lock her away, and erase her from her parents memories. She'd have no one to help her, no friends or family, no one!

She had to do something. She knew what to do, but the last time it happened it was by accident, and then right after she felt sick to her stomach.

The EMT's held her down, forcing her to kneel.

This couldn't be happening!

Shutting her eyes tight and praying for it to work, Mercedes screamed at the top of her lungs.

Instead of a normal cry peeling painfully out of her throat, she felt the walls in her throat open up and ripple serenely like waves. Her scream was not a scream, but one ear busting siren so high pitched that it sent the men holding her into screaming and doubling over, covering their bleeding ears. She could hear the windows shatter from the powerful shockwaves coming from her siren.

She looked up and could see the others, even Laurence, crouched on of the floor and covering their ears.

The only one standing was Dr. Hope. He was wearing ear plugs. Mercedes wondered exactly when he put them on, but from the relieved look on his face, she knew that he did it on a whim. He had a habit of doing that.

"Keep screaming!" he yelled at her, taking her arm and running out of his office. In the living room, the found other paramedics cowering on the floor, Quinn among them. Dr. Hope grabbed her too with tremendous strength and they stumbled out of his house into the street where a few unfortunate people were writhing in pain from Mercedes's siren.

She couldn't hold on anymore. The nausea in her stomach making her crouch in pain. Her siren died away, but Dr. Hope kept her moving, directing both girls to his old beat up Ford. Mercedes was thankful she didn't eat anything before coming to see the therapist, otherwise his car would be smelling worse than it already was. She rolled down the window to get fresh air as Dr. Hope pulled out of the driveway and raced down the street.

"Mercedes…"

She looked to Quinn. She was sitting awkwardly in her seat, hair thrown over her face. She looked two seconds from passing out, but otherwise she seemed okay. Mercedes took her hand worriedly.

"Sorry, Q," she mumbled, knowing her friend's ears were ringing madly. Quinn mumbled something she couldn't catch, then slumped against the window, her hair brushing aside in the movement to show a bit of her pale neck where there was an angry red dot. She had been sedated before Mercedes had gotten to her.

"Okay," Dr. Hope said, voice trembling, "Apate is definitely out of the question, I'm taking you to New York personally. And while we're at it," he fumbled around his pockets and pulled out an old scratched up Nokia cell. "I'm calling my lawyer."

"What about Quinn?" Mercedes asked, knowing Mrs. Fabray would protest about her daughter taking a trip to New York without her permission, "and my parents?"

Dr. Hope paused hesitantly, "Do you think those people are waiting at your house if I go there now?"

Mercedes almost huffed in frustration. Sometimes the man could sound like such an uncertain child, it was no wonder why he couldn't afford anything halfway decent, or why he came so cheap.

But he had a point. If Apate found her at her therapist's house when no one but friends should have known about the location, then going home was even more dangerous.

Someone tipped Laurence off.

As much as she wanted to tear up the snitch, she knew the damage was done.

If they knew about Dr. Hope's house, specifically going for her. Then they probably knew about her friends homes, meaning it wasn't safe for to drop off Quinn either.

Shit.

"Never mind, just drive."

…

They were walking down an empty road. What would have been a busy highway was quiet. Desolate. Dead. It was just the two of them.

He couldn't remember what happened. One minute the day was sunny, warm with spring revival. The trees sang in the wind, the clock was ticking closer to the end of school, and he was tapping his foot impatiently, looking longingly out into the busy street, making plans on what to do once he got home.

Probably eat some microwave pizza.

All he did was blink and the surroundings vanished. He wasn't sitting, he was standing.

In an empty road.

Far away from Lima.

"I'm not leaving you," his companion whispered beside him, taking his hand in his. He looked down at the brunette, and to their clasped hands. A warmth filling him and washing away the fear of loneliness. Kurt looked up at him and offered a small smile. Blue eyes sparkling in the dim light.

Special.

It was the first word that came to Finn's mind when he looked at the other boy.

"His sister can help you."

He whipped his head around and came face to face with an old friend. He was dressed in the familiar letterman jacket, the read M glaring back at him. The lopsided grin filled him with nostalgia. He knew this person.

"Matt?" Finn breathed.

"Ella's her name," his old friend said, voice echoing into the emptiness surrounding them. He looked at Finn meaningfully. "She can help you gather everyone."

"Ev…everyone?"

"The only thing to come out of the Box is misery," Kurt spoke up, not speaking to anyone.

"Follow the White Rabbit," Matt's voice swam in his head. Finn stumbled.

"We'll find everyone."

"She's an extension of that woman."

"She's the Initial Symptom."

"Must get to Babylon."

"Babylon."

"Babylon…"

…

"…bylon…Babyl…lon…"

He jumped in surprise at the hand shaking his shoulder. Squeezing his eyes shut, he rubbed them, out of balance with his surroundings. He was lying on a stiff bed, dirty taupe walls, and a cold as hell bedroom. Finn blinked the fuzziness from his eyes and focused on the person leaning over him, brows knitted in worry.

"You had a nightmare," Kurt said quietly, backing away as his stepbrother sat up with a groan. He looked around again. Two beds, a small door to the bathroom. Everything was dark save for the faint light coming from the lamp at the bedside table.

The motel.

Finn sighed and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. They were still in Mansfield. He remembered now. After getting gas and grabbing a few snacks, they found this place and rested for a bit. Kurt was less than pleased to be taking out cash far beyond his comfort levels, and as much as Finn apologized and worried over using Kurt's money like this, it didn't stop him from falling asleep as soon as he hit the bed.

He didn't realize how exhausted he was. It had only been the afternoon when they arrived at the motel, now it was well into the evening.

"I-I…" he rubbed his eyes, still seeing the image of Matt standing in the middle of the street talking to him. "Nightmare."

"You were moaning and talking in your sleep," Kurt shrugged nonchalantly, the look in his eyes unable to hide his concern, "it looked like you were having a nightmare."

Nodding, Finn made to get up, but winced when an aching in his neck held him back. He reached back and rubbed at the sore. "It wasn't really a nightmare…it was…weird." He rolled his neck experimentally, feeling the ache subside a little, "I've been getting a lot of weird dreams lately."

"You kept repeating Babylon."

He looked at Kurt in surprise, finally seeing that he was a picture of chaos with his hair in disarray, his shirt all wrinkled, he was pale as paper, years added onto his haggard face. The guilt of drawing him into his problems resurfaced. Kurt didn't deserve this. The countertenor rolled out of his bed and trudged over to his own which had the documents strewn all over it. Finn looked up at his stepbrother curiously.

"I…I'm not a detective or anything," he said softly, gathering the papers, "but I wanted to see for myself…" he bit his lip briefly, as if he didn't want to admit defeat, "and you're right. Babylon's everywhere."

"Kurt – "

"I know that place is important – that she's there and if we stop her it'll all be over," he turned back to Finn, eyes shining with tears, "but I don't want you to get hurt. They locked you away…they…" he snorted bitterly, "they've got the government on their side. From what I can tell from these documents. They really are responsible for the illnesses…the…suicides," his voice twisted in disgust. "You're an experiment, Finn."

Finn clenched the thin bed sheets that had done nothing to keep him warm. At the back of his mind he wondered why a motel would put on the AC in the middle of winter. He watched Kurt as he looked over the piles of papers, trying again to think of a way to let him stay behind while he trekked on for Babylon. He couldn't put Kurt through this, it would risk putting him in danger too.

"Was your dream special?"

Finn blinked. The word 'special' echoing in his head. "Wh-what?"

Kurt shrugged, holding up Finn's profile, "after Laurence hypnotizing my dad, I'll believe anything. Your profile it says you're a Dream Wanderer, I'm assuming your dreams are special…meaningful. More than ordinary."

Meaningful?

Special?

It was true that his nightmares would become his reality. The clown was a perfect example of that. What's more, Suzy had been helping him in his dreams. But this dream was strange. Neither Suzy nor the clown presented themselves. Not even Alice. Of course, there was that one dream where it was just him and Kurt driving through traffic.

Which struck him.

The only constant was Kurt. So far it seemed as if he was always dreaming of him. Always.

Kurt squirmed under Finn's intense gaze. The paper crinkling loudly as he hesitantly lowered it. Clearing his throat, he tore his eyes away from his stepbrother and gathered up the papers. It was two in the morning; he knew he needed to get some sleep if he wanted to leave Mansfield as soon as possible.

"Is it weird that I dream of my brother all the time and not…not anyone else, like my girlfriend?"

Kurt's face turned red, keeping his head ducked, he put the papers in a neat pile and put them in the folder. What the hell kind of question was that? "I don't know…I'm one of the closest people in your life. I can take away your hallucinations – which by the way, I still don't get. Maybe you see me as a…savior?" even on his tongue it didn't sound right. Finn didn't reply immediately, so he busied himself with getting an old shirt from his bag and throwing it on the bed to lie on. Screw the cold, there was no way he was getting under old motel sheets, who knew what made contact with them.

"In my dream, you said you'd weren't going to leave me," Finn said softly, the sound of his voice sending goosebumps over Kurt's skin. "Matt was there too. You guys were saying some weird stuff…follow the white rabbit. Um…something about someone named Ella."

"Maybe it was just a regular dream," Kurt's voice sounded funny. He couldn't help it. Finn had dreams of him? His romantic side was going into a frenzy.

But no, he couldn't go all romantic about this. They were running away from a freaky organization, looking for a fictitious city in hopes of stopping the epidemic and finding a cure to Finn's illness. There was nothing romantic about that.

And Finn had a girlfriend, so romance was really out of the question.

The lamp was clicked off, swarming the room in darkness. Kurt turned to his side, away from Finn, his heart beating wildly against his chest. He stared at the window, the pale curtains fluttering slightly against the AC. He had tried several times to get the ancient thermometer to work, but the stupid rusty thing broke on him. The front desk made no move to help either. The asshole.

Curling in on himself, Kurt shut his eyes and tried to sleep. He had no idea where they would be going, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let Finn drive again.

He snapped his eyes open at the feel of the mattress sinking, and a warm body lying down in front of him.

Finn stared back at him, dark eyes glinting in the small bit of light coming from the window. Kurt held his breath, unsure if he should kick him off or say something.

"You don't have to come with me," Finn whispered, hot breath ghosting over the tip of Kurt's cold nose.

He swallowed thickly, "I'm not leaving you," he said firmly. Something flashed in Finn's eyes. Before Kurt had time to think about it, the taller teen wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him close. He couldn't stop the small gasp from passing his lips.

Close. So close.

He could feel his heat radiating off him, more comforting than any blanket in the world.

"It's freezing," Finn said simply, "might as well huddle to keep warm."

Oh.

Kurt looked down at Finn's chest, his collarbone peeking out of the neckline of his shirt. He'd never been more tempted than now to dive in and run his tongue over that spot. His mouth went dry.

"It's weird," Finn spoke up again, his hands unconsciously trailing up and down Kurt's back. The smaller boy shivered. Eyes fluttering shut. Was this really happening? "In that dream when I saw you, the first thing that popped up in my head was 'Special'."

Kurt fought to keep his breathing in check. "S…Special," he whispered uncertainly, voice squeaking.

"Yeah…" he frowned thoughtfully, "I've noticed…the whole time I was in Apate all I could think of was you coming to see me again."

That was definitely not the right thing to say, now Kurt had more imagery to go by, "really?" he accidentally squeaked again.

"Yeah, I mean I thought of Rachel, but not as much, she's…I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if she broke up with me after what I did to her," Finn grimaced, the guilt of hurting her still fresh. "I'm…afraid of even touching her now. Every time I hug her, I feel happy at first, but then I sometimes start thinking about what I did and – "

"It wasn't your fault," Kurt wrapped a comforting arm around Finn's waist, "she understands, she…she loves you."

"I just…" Finn held him more closely, nuzzling his nose into Kurt's unkempt hair. He smelled of strawberries, igniting memories of the day he came home pissed off that his favorite shampoo was out of stock so he had to fall back on the next best thing. Kurt may have not liked the shampoo, but Finn did, it made him think of hot summer days and sitting on the back porch enjoying a basket of strawberries while watching the sunset. It was such a specific imagery that he couldn't explain nor replicate it whenever Rachel or anyone else smelled of strawberries.

And once again the thought of his girlfriend sent him back to the day he woke up to her in bandages. It was both a blessing and a curse that he still couldn't remember exactly how he hurt her.

"I ruined everything for us," he said softly, unsure if Kurt's even breathing meant he fell asleep, he still seemed pretty tense in his arms, "I don't want to hurt her anymore…I think I have to break up with her."

"Finn…" Oh so he was awake.

"I haven't seen her as much, but as much as I missed her. I've missed you more."

Now Kurt had gone completely rigid. "Wh-what are you trying to say?"

Finn's brows knitted in confusion. What was he trying to say?

"I don't know," he whispered honestly, new questions bursting into his exhausted brain. "L-Let's just get some sleep."

…

Down an alley two blocks from the motel, a strange windy bang sounded off within the shadows, startling a stray cat to scurry away, yowling in fright. What seconds ago would have been empty space now occupied a young man dressed completely in black.

He looked at his surroundings only to double over the next second and empty his stomach contents by a pile of broken beer bottles. His whole body was in pain, muscles seizing in protest, nerves rustling in panic. By now it had become a familiar feeling whenever he risked using his ability.

An ability he never asked for, nor had any right to have.

Scowling at the yellow goop splashed over the floor, he wiped his mouth and took a minute to wait out the pain that was slowly leaving him in rippling waves. If he had known earlier, he would have taken a train or something to get to Mansfield. He hated using his ability.

Unfortunately, this was an emergency. Time wasn't on his side.

Letting out a shaking sigh, he stumbled out of the shadows and into the streetlight.

Matt looked at his watch and grimaced, "fuck my life."