It's Too Late
NOTES:
Wohin gehst du, kleiner Vogel? = Where are you going, little bird?
meine Fruende = my friends
er kennt mich = he knows me
Friday was independent project day. It had been about six weeks since classes had commenced and Kurt still wasn't sure what "independent project" meant. Professor Ali's description at the onset had been rather sobering. Kurt could just remember her piercing green eyes looking through him in the front row,
"Create something that will make me remember you. Interpret as you will."
That minimal instruction had been accompanied by the promise that she would have numerous resources at the class's disposal. Otherwise, she gave the impression that they were then to go forth and spawn ideas worthy of abounding accolades. Her office hours of 8 A.M. to 4 P.M. were also at their disposal for consultation, otherwise they were free to stay or go as they pleased. Time management skills would surely be put to the test.
Kurt had already changed his mind about twenty, no thirty, times. At first his mind had gone right to the creation of a musical. Then he realized, after eavesdropping on multiple classmates, that his idea was shared by many. So, now he was six weeks in with only the vague idea of some kind of song and dance showcase. Rachel had been there to help him start, but her luck had taken a more positive turn when she was called to Los Angeles for a possible pilot. She was getting noticed. Kurt was jealous.
And now Kurt found himself in a nearly empty seminar room accompanied by only a laptop and one other classmate who was practically comatose in his seat. For some reason, he was convinced that staying on campus all day would bring him the epiphany he so desperately needed. Countless days of fickleness and vacillation suggested he was wrong. A quick look at his watch indicated that it was just past three o'clock. He decided that he had put in enough self torture for the day and began packing up his shoulder bag with his books and laptop.
The familiar ding of a notification filled the emptiness of the classroom and lit up his phone screen. He figured it was Blaine, asking him where a particular cleaning item was for the fiftieth time. Kurt wondered why, after being in the apartment for this long, he hadn't figured all of this out yet. A quick look at the messaging app proved him wrong. The small popup on his screen indicated that he had received a message from Garret.
Out of excitement and curiosity, he tapped on the notification which brought up the line of text messages.
I enjoyed our talk last week. Thank you. Sorry I have been rather MIA of late. What are you up to?
The first part of that message made Kurt's heart go all aflutter with satisfaction. He was worried that his and Blaine's presence in Garret's apartment had only caused him to relive the trauma. Thankfully, Garret thought otherwise. He tapped in a message in response,
Blaine and I were so happy to see you. Please don't worry about being MIA. We both understand. I am about to head home from NYADA. Why?
After about a thirty second pause, he received an answer,
Do you have awhile to spare? I'd love to chat again. I am remembering some things and I wanted to share them with you. Hopefully to help you keep on the lookout for those Nazi bastards.
Kurt looked at his watch again. He really wanted to visit with Garret, but he didn't want to be late for their evening engagement with Elias.
I can come for about an hour. Is that okay?
Sounds great. See you shortly.
For some reason, the final message gave him a sudden sense of urgency as he hurried out the door of the classroom. The late September afternoon sun suggested that dusk was fast approaching and Kurt wanted to get home before it was too dark.
Why the hell couldn't he get this apartment clean enough? After several text messages to Kurt, Blaine thought he would have had the layout of the apartment memorized. However, he seemed to find a new surface to clean hiding around a mysterious corner every few minutes. After he had been dusting, vacuuming and mopping for a majority of the morning, he began planning the evening meal. A quick trip down to the local farmer's market and the local meat shop in the Ridgewood neighborhood proved fruitful. He returned with a substantial collection of items with which to construct a nutritious feast. This was complete with smoked salmon, and an assortment of fresh vegetables.
From the living room area, a special playlist that Kurt had created the night before was bellowing out of the speakers of the iStereo. Blaine found himself swaying back and forth to the beat as his hands carefully cleaned a collection of fresh green beans. Once completed with this task, he carefully placed them into an airtight container and set them in the refrigerator. The salmon fillets sat in a separate container marinating in a delicious teriyaki glaze. With great satisfaction with his own culinary skill, Blaine closed the fridge and finished cleaning the countertop of the food scraps and implements.
His little dance was interrupted by a firm knock at the apartment door. Blaine glanced at his watch, seeing that it was only about 3:30 P.M. Who could that be? Was Artie stopping by? Cautiously, he unlatched the lock and slid the door to the left, revealing Elias smiling with a bottle of wine in hand. His wardrobe suggested he had put in extra time, not to mention money, into looking well put together. Everything about his appearance screamed fitted, and chic. His long tan blazer covered a dark green button down shirt. The entire ensemble was finished off with carefully tailored dark blue pants stopping at a pair of laced leather shoes. Blaine was impressed, and frankly, a bit jealous. He had chosen his blue striped button down mostly because Kurt loved it. Now he wished he had put a bit more effort into his wardrobe.
"Elias." Blaine greeted him more with a tone of surprise than excitement. Elias's face suggested embarrassment as he looked back sheepishly,
"I know I am early, my friend. I hope you don't mind. I am more than happy to go wait at a nearby coffee shop if you're not ready."
Blaine waved his hand at him,
"Oh, no, absolutely not. Please, come in."
Elias handed Blaine the wine from his hands. Blaine took a look at the label and his eyes almost popped out of his head. The brand he held went for at least one hundred dollars a bottle the last time he looked.
"Is it not to your liking?" Elias looked slightly worried. Blaine shook his head,
"No, no, it's not that. It's just that this is pretty expensive stuff. Are you sure you want to share this with us for a simple dinner?"
Elias furrowed his brow and looked Blaine dead in the eye, placing a strong hand on his shoulder,
"A simple dinner? No, my friend. This is a chance for me to share a magnificent meal with two people who have been very kind to me since I arrived here. I insist."
Blaine protested no more and brought the wine to the counter. Elias began to look around, examining the layout of the apartment with curious eyes. Blaine paid him no attention as he fetched three wine glasses from the cupboard and placed them on the counter next to the wine bottle.
"I like this apartment, Blaine. You have a lot of space. I also think this is very clever," he indicated the privacy curtains between the two makeshift bedrooms. Blaine laughed,
"I'm glad you like it. It isn't the best, but it is home for us. We have just enough room and it has a touch of our own personal style. And we feel safe here even though it's not the best neighborhood."
"Is it just you and Kurt?" Elias stood in between the privacy curtains with his hands in his pockets, swaying back and forth on his feet.
"Well, right now it is. It's kind of an open door. Many of our friends from high school have come and gone. So long as everyone shares in the rent, we are cool with it. Right now Sam uses that bedroom," Blaine indicated the room on the left, "but he is out of town until tomorrow."
Elias listened to Blaine's explanation with great interest, smiling the whole time. And then they just stood there for a few minutes awkwardly while the music filled the silence. Blaine was feeling painfully out of place at the moment. He had to start some kind of conversation or he would lose his mind,
"Kurt should be home soon. He was finishing up his class for the day and heading over. Can I offer you some of the wine you brought?"
Elias smiled and nodded,
"Yes, please."
Blaine pointed toward the living room couch,
"Please have a seat and I will gladly bring it to you." he invited.
Elias approached the furnishings with delight and sat down comfortably, crossing his legs in front of him. Blaine was thankful that his guest appeared to be making himself at home. Thankfully, he didn't notice the dust he had missed on the back of the couch.
Once again, Kurt found himself in the living room of Archie's apartment. Garret had been the one to answer the door this time, which was a great improvement from the last visit. They sat on the furniture that was bathed in the light of the late afternoon sun pouring in from the large picture window.
Kurt took in his friend's appearance. The bruises on his face, especially around his eye, had faded significantly and he was grateful to see it. Garret appeared to move with much less tension than last time. He also appeared to have much more energy. The fact that he was no longer hiding in the back bedroom was a sign that he was gaining more confidence.
After offering Kurt a drink and being respectfully declined, he sat opposite his friend and leaned back against the couch. He placed his hands nervously in his lap and didn't look up at first, as if he was trying to gain the courage to begin his account. Kurt waited patiently, knowing that the details he was about to share would most certainly change his mood.
The first half of the conversation consisted of catch up from NYADA. Kurt could tell that his friend was building up the courage to change to more macabre subject matter. He obliged, and shared all the goings on of the classes he had missed. They shared memories of the hilarious events they had experienced in movements class, most of them involving their rather eccentric professor shouting strange things. Kurt made sure to remind Garret that he was sorely missed not only by him and Blaine, but several of their classmates as well. Garret had brought a dose of sunshine to the often grueling physical demands of that class, and the class definitely noticed his absence.
They sat in silence for a moment, as Garret worked up more courage. Finally Garret moved on to a much more serious topic of discussion,
"I remember what the leader looks like, Kurt. I woke up this morning with a clear picture in my mind. It scared the shit out of me, but it will help me to give a description to the police."
Kurt uncrossed his legs, and leaned forward, draping his arms over his knees. He didn't want to miss any detail. Anything that could help him keep himself and Blaine safe was extremely useful.
"You said that they pretended to be into real estate, right?" Kurt inquired. Garret nodded and then shrugged,
"I think that's what they said. I just remember that the leader always looked really well put together. His clothes were always well fitted and pressed," Kurt listened with interest as Garret continued, "He had very thin-framed glasses over piercing blue eyes. Damn, Kurt, his eyes were pretty. It makes me sick thinking that, but it's true."
As Garret continued to describe his assailant, Kurt began to shift uncomfortably in his seat. Something about this man seemed frighteningly familiar. Garret kept adding details to the description,
"The sides of his head were buzzed, while he wore the rest of his hair slicked up on top. I think his hair was a light brown, or chestnut color. One thing that really stood out was that he spoke with a very faint German accent." Garret stopped speaking and looked up, almost shocked by the look on Kurt's face. His forehead was thinly coated in sweat as he squeezed his hands into fists, "Kurt, are you okay?"
"Yes, I'm okay. Do you remember anything else about him? His name perhaps?"
Garret looked deep in thought as he tapped his chin. Kurt waited in agony while his friend tried to recall any more details. There was a gut-wrenching doom in the put of his stomach as he almost didn't want to know the answer.
"I can't remember exactly, but I think it started with an E…" Garret was now rubbing his forehead as if trying to pull the memory out of his mind, "Elliot...El…" he was interrupted from the other couch,
"...Elias…?" Kurt said, his voice breaking.
They both stared stone cold dread into each other's eyes. Garret didn't need Kurt to explain anything. He knew his attempt to keep them safe had already failed and that Kurt had already encountered this man. He stood from his couch and walked over to Kurt, sitting next to him and wrapping his arm around his friend. Kurt remained still, staring forward. His breathing was increasing as he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. A full on panic attack was imminent.
"Kurt, what's going on?"
He turned to face Garret, tears welling in his eyes,
"He came to the diner about three weeks ago. So many of the customers there are so terrible that he was like a beacon in the darkness. But he was so…"
"...charming." Garret finished his sentence. Before he could say anything else, Kurt stood from the couch and began pacing, shaking his hands in front of him like they had fallen asleep. Garret just watched him, panicking as to what else wasn't being said. After watching his friend go back and forth about ten times, he too stood and stopped Kurt. With his hands holding firmly onto Kurt's arms, he looked him in the eyes,
"I'm going to ask you again. What is wrong, Kurt? Meeting him is one thing, but something else is up with you."
His mouth hung open for several moments, his voice unable to form the words. The tears had long since fallen and his eyes were red and puffy. In Kurt's mind he was already doomed. This man knew where they lived and he knew what they looked like. Unless he left the state, there was no getting away from him. He mustered up the courage he needed to answer his friend's question,
"We...we invited him to dinner tonight. He's supposed to be there at five. Blaine...BLAINE!"
Garret glanced at the clock and saw that it read 4 P.M. Grabbing Kurt's face in his hands, he spoke sternly,
"Go. Get home as fast as you can, before he arrives. Save Blaine!"
After a moment of eye contact with Garret, Kurt gathered his coat and shoulder bag and headed for the door. He turned back to his friend,
"I will text you when I get home to let you know if I made it. If you don't hear from me in an hour, call the police."
Garret nodded, shaking his arms in front of him, trying to shoo Kurt from the apartment.
"Got it. Now GO!"
In an instant, Kurt disappeared out the door, faster than he knew his legs could carry him.
Blaine sat opposite Elias on one of the armchairs. With one hand holding his wine glass, he used the other to place the partially full bottle on the coffee table in front of him. As he let himself settle comfortably into the chair, he held his glass up toward Elias and smiled,
"To making new friends." he chimed.
Elias paused for a second, giving Blaine a very reflective expression. After a moment's hesitation, he too smiled and lifted his glass,
"To making new friends. Much obliged, dear Blaine." with a gentle movement of their wrists, the glasses made a musical clink as they brushed against one another. The two men then lifted the wine glasses to their lips and took a sip. Blaine leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, in an attempt to appear gentlemanly to his guest. He couldn't help but think that, even though they had been conversing for about twenty minutes, Elias still seemed a bit apprehensive to be there. He tried to loosen him up a bit,
"So, Elias, tell me a little more about yourself. I feel like Kurt knows more than I do."
Elias crowed, a weak smile on his face, "What would you like to know, my friend?" he asked. Blaine shrugged and searched his mind for something he could ask to fill the dreadfully awkward silence,
"Where exactly are you from? I only ask because your accent has an attractive uniqueness to it. I know you told Kurt you were from Germany, but whereabouts in Germany did you live?" Blaine's art of flirting had not been dulled since leaving McKinley. Elias seemed to blush a bit as he looked at the floor,
"Uh, well, I was born just outside of Berlin. My family moved around the world a lot when I was young, so my accent has kind of been suppressed over the years. I have to say, though, this is the first time someone has referred to it as attractive, my friend. You definitely know how to make a man feel good about himself." they both laughed, and the uncomfortable awkwardness seemed to be lifting from the room.
"What did your family do in Germany?" Blaine continued with another question.
There was a bit more hesitation with this answer as Elias took a long sip of his wine, nearly emptying his glass. After a hard swallow of the liquid, he ran his fingers over his lips nervously,
"Well, my parents were in politics. But it did not take. I guess you could say their opinions were a bit too, what word do you use…?" his eyes squinted as he searched his memory banks for the vocabulary, "...extreme?"
Blaine tilted his head to the side, "Extreme? How so?" he asked. Elias just scoffed,
"Oh, I don't know. I guess you could say they were a tad bit too conservative for many people. That's why we fled here. Our family was not welcome there anymore. We wanted to start fresh. Or, at least, that's what they told me growing up." Elias smiled nervously as he traced his finger around the rim of the wine glass.
"Well, I am sorry you had to flee. I hope your brief experience in the U.S. has been positive so far." Blaine smiled, trying to sound reassuring. Elias nodded and furrowed his brow as if to be strongly agreeing,
"Oh, yes, my friend, it has."
Blaine set his glass down and reached for the wine bottle and asked, "Speaking of good experiences, can I freshen up your drink?"
Elias eagerly reached his glass across the coffee table that sat between them. Blaine proceeded to add to Elias's helping of wine from the bottle. As he was pouring, the sleeve of Elias's shirt pulled back, revealing the skin on his left arm. Blaine's eyes glanced over at a design tattooed on the inside of Elias's left wrist. Trying not to look like he was staring, he squinted a bit until he realized he was looking at the fist surrounded by the chains and iron cross. His heart began to race as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Without him realizing it, his hand shook as it held the wine bottle.
"Everything alright, my friend?" Elias inquired. Blaine steadied the wine bottle as best he could. How was he going to pretend that he hadn't just seen the tattoo? Had Elias noticed where he was looking? Blaine chuckled nervously and smiled,
"Yeah, sorry, I just didn't have a good grip I guess."
He was thankful that he hadn't accidentally overfilled the wine glass, making himself look even more suspicious. After Elias had sat back comfortably on the couch, Blaine put the wine bottle back on the coffee table and stood from his chair.
"Excuse me for a second, I have to run to the bathroom." Blaine was hoping he had sounded convincing. Elias raised his glass and nodded,
"No worries, my friend. I'm not going anywhere," he said with a wink.
Blaine walked as quickly as he could to the bathroom without looking conspicuous. As soon as the door closed behind him, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. After holding it for a few seconds, he let it out quietly through his mouth. He could not let himself lose his wits. The fact that he had one of the members of die Stärke in the living room meant he had to be on high alert from here on out. What should he do, though? Keep pretending? How was he going to get Elias out of the apartment? Had he noticed Blaine's eyes looking at the tattoo? Blaine could only hope that he hadn't.
"I have to make it sound like I am actually using the bathroom or he'll be on to me." Blaine thought. Within seconds he had reached over to flush the toilet. Shortly after completing this task, he turned on the faucet. Now was his chance.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. His hands were shaking so violently that he could barely hold it. His heart began to race in his chest to the point where he could feel it in his temples. His breathing resembled that of an individual who had just finished a marathon. The adrenaline running through his system made it almost impossible for him to focus on what app he had to open. All required mental capacities seemed to be placed on pause at that moment. His body was focused entirely on survival.
After a moment of taking a few deep breaths, he was able to steady his fingers enough to bring up a new text. The light ticking sound of his phone's keyboard filled the small space of the bathroom as he raced to compose a message to his boyfriend. He hoped Elias couldn't hear what he was doing.
ELIAS CAME EARLY. HE IS DIE STÄRKE. I THINK HE KNOWS I KNOW. DON'T COME. CALL THE COPS!
With another deep breath and the phone in his right hand, he wrapped his fingers around it, brought it to his lips and squeezed it, as if to will Kurt to read the message faster. The water had been running longer than he had intended. A rush of anxiety flowed through him as he quickly turned off the faucet.
Blaine's heart almost stopped when he turned back toward the door of the bathroom. He met with Elias's angry malevolent expression as he grabbed a handful of his shirt. It appeared as though Elias had snuck in silently and closed the door behind him without him even realizing it. Before he could fully comprehend the situation, Blaine was being slammed against the door. He let out a painful grunt only to have his face roughly handled by the six-foot German man standing before him. Elias pressed his knee into Blaine's abdomen, holding him against the door. His eyes widened in horror as a handgun came into view. The barrel, fitted with a suppressor, was placed against his throat.
Elias smiled at him. It was the kind of smile Blaine had never seen a person make for him before. The only other time he had seen this expression was on the faces of serial killers whose mugshots riddled the evening news. Elias wore it with experience. That smile was not one of friendship, but of a hunger for blood.
"Blaine, you are a smart man. It seems you have been paying attention to the news reports of late. Very observant, you are." he squeezed Blaine's face, causing him to whimper. Blaine instantly regretted showing emotion to this man. He had to remain strong for as long as possible. He could not give this man the satisfaction of seeing him in distress. That was exactly what Elias wanted, and Blaine was determined to leave him disappointed.
"How about we go into the main room and wait for your knight in shining armor to come save you, shall we?" Elias said in a mockingly friendly tone. Blaine tried fighting Elias's grip on his chin by moving his head forcefully from side to side. Elias immediately let go of him, backed off a pace and slapped him harshly across the face. Blaine had barely recovered from the shock before he was treated violently again. Elias pulled him forward, opened the bathroom door and shoved him over the threshold and onto the floor.
He laid on his side, supporting himself on his right elbow and tried to catch his breath. Only seconds passed before he could feel the harsh grip of Elias's hand on the back of his neck. A forceful pull brought him to his feet as he was led to the kitchen area. While still holding onto Blaine, Elias grabbed one of the chairs and forced Blaine to sit down, facing the apartment entrance.
The sound of heavy footsteps emerged from the hallway as Blaine looked up with a mixture of hope and dread. The sound stopped for a split second as the door slid open to reveal a familiar face of a man carrying a duffel bag. Elias's voice met in his ears,
"Oh, I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of inviting a few friends."
Blaine's heart was in his throat. How was this possible? Before him, stood the same enormous man who had made devilish looks at him on the subway and then later came to Mosh Pit to chew him out.
"Don't look so surprised, Blaine." he joked as he approached Elias and they exchanged a friendly greeting.
"But," Blaine's voice caught in his throat, "How…?" Elias interjected,
"Oh, by the way, Blaine, meet Christian. He is one of my most trustworthy friends. Not afraid to get his hands dirty, this one."
Christian gave him a playful bow and Blaine nearly felt sick to his stomach. Fear and despair disappeared almost instantly. Now Blaine was just angry. He balled his hands into fists, but remained seated,
"So this was all just some kind of act to gain our trust?" Elias and Christian met eyes and then nodded,
"You are exactly right. How smart you are, my friend." Elias said. Blaine was almost shouting at this point,
"I am not your fucking friend, you murderer!"
The sound of the gun being cocked next to his head stopped him from moving from his chair. He turned to face Christian, who held his weapon within centimeters of Blaine's face, the barrel of the gun fitted with a suppressor. After a moment of staring each other down, Blaine decided it would be best if he were more careful with his words. The odds were low at coming out the victor now that he had two assailants against him.
Christian set his duffel bag on the kitchen table and promptly unzipped it. Blaine watched as he reached in and pulled out a roll of duct tape and set it on the table. Christian and Blaine met eyes,
"Should I use this now, or will you shut up for yourself?" he said. Blaine took the hint and just looked at him angrily. Christian continued pulling out several small bundles of rope and a long metal rod that looked like a fire poker. The rod was fastened with some kind of rectangular attachment at its end that Blaine could not make out.
He watched the two men closely, trying to pick up their mannerisms. They moved as if they were performing a well practiced dance. Christian continued to empty more instruments from the duffel bag. He handed a long Bowie knife in a leather sheath to Elias who proceeded to tie the straps around his thigh. After placing two more Bowie knives onto the table, he fastened his own to his belt. Two handguns appeared shortly after, and Christian proceeded to fasten each one with a suppressor. Why did he need so many extra weapons when it was just the two of them?
As this ritual continued, Blaine listened to them speaking German to one another. He knew no German, and always thought of it as an angry sounding language. However, the body language and facial expressions of these men did not suggest anger. Several times they exchanged looks of satisfaction, or even humor. Blaine could only sit and imagine the nightmarish things they had in store for him. He knew that their intentions were to bring harm to him and Kurt. The fact that they saw this as a joyful pastime was unsettling.
Blaine turned his attention to the door of the apartment. Christian had carelessly left it wide open upon his arrival. Suddenly, a rush of adrenaline hit him as his mind raced with an idea that could end up being foolish, or even fatal. He contemplated making a run for it when the two men turned their backs to him. However he also knew how strong Elias was after being shoved against the wall. He could only assume he was just as equally skilled in precision with a firearm. The man standing next to him was at least twice his size. Anything Elias started, this man could surely finish. Blaine was now faced with a dilemma. He could stay and find out the painful demise he would meet under the hands of these crazy men, or he could die from a gunshot wound trying to save himself.
Blaine stared into the empty hallway, ruminating on the possibilities of each choice. Neither sounded great, but the second option offered a glimmer of hope that he would survive. The more it raced through his mind, the stronger the effect of the adrenaline on his system. His heart pounded in his chest and his palms began to sweat. He made a quick glance to his right to assure that his captors were distracted. It was now or never.
A burst of energy from his legs launched him from the chair faster than he thought he could move. His hope was killed shortly after approaching the threshold. The mixture of fear and excitement had left him deaf to the footsteps that approached the apartment. He was stopped in his tracks by another large man who grabbed a fistful of Blaine's shirt. While trying to pry the man's cement grip off of him, Blaine's eyes met his new assailant's. His heart nearly went from beating a mile a minute to launching out of his mouth. He was now staring down the same man who had chased him and Kurt down the alley. The same man who had tackled him and punched him in the face.
A deep, guttural laugh escaped this behemoth's mouth as he grabbed Blaine around the throat and started pushing him back into the apartment,
"Wohin gehst du, kleiner Vogel?"*
The rest of them chuckled as this man easily moved Blaine back to his place on the chair. The laughter continued like a group of bullies surrounding the school nerd. Blaine was trying to catch his breath from the sudden abuse, and these men thought it amusing.
Elias and Christian approached the man as they greeted each other with a side hug. Elias turned mockingly to Blaine and, gesturing toward the new visitor said,
"And this is Benjamin, another of my trustworthy friends."
Blaine crossed his arms in front of him, his muscles like cement. Why the hell would he care what their names were? Their intentions made these friendly introductions unwarranted.
Benjamin had finished fastening his Bowie knife to his belt when Blaine heard yet another set of footsteps approaching the door. His heart almost stopped. What if it was Kurt? Elias had successfully caused Blaine to drop his phone in the bathroom, so he had no clue if his lover had received his message. He pulled at his hair, messing up the careful job he had done gelling and combing it.
"Hello, Blaine."
He froze. This was just getting worse and worse. As his eyes moved from his lap to the eyes of the person at the door, he could feel himself coming close to gagging. A neatly tailored business suit adorned the body of the newest visitor.
"...Peter." Blaine's voice came out in a whisper. Peter said nothing else and walked to the window. When he looked out, Blaine knew that he was keeping watch for Kurt. The music continued to play from the iStereo close to where Peter stood. He noticed the sound and flinched, looking for its source. Once his eyes locked on the mini stereo, he grabbed it and threw it to the floor. Blaine jumped in his seat as he watched the pieces explode in all directions.
He felt helpless. He couldn't warn his betrothed. He hoped that Kurt had received his message and would stay away. However, his boyfriend was stubborn and protective. No matter how many times Blaine told him to avoid coming, he would come running.
"How about you three go stand watch by the front door, meine Freunde."**
Immediately, the three men disappeared out the door toward the entrance to the building. Blaine risked a look at Elias, who stood at the kitchen table, leaning on one of the chairs and smiling back at him. He shrugged and approached him,
"Really, Blaine. I'm sorry." when he reached for Blaine's shoulder, he recoiled and sneered.
"No, you're not."
The subway was moving like lava. Never had Kurt felt so incredibly anxious and helpless. Thankfully the subway was quiet tonight, leaving no bystanders to witness his troubling behavior. He was so wrapped up in his worry that he had not heard the notification of the message from Blaine only minutes ago. When the subway car finally stopped at his station, he raced out the door, almost knocking over a passer by. Normally he would have felt guilty for it, but he had more pressing matters at the moment.
As he ran past the coffee stand, he and Ignacio met eyes. A look of horror was printed on the barista's face as he knew exactly what was happening. He could infer it not only from Kurt's expression but in the fact that he was running for his life. It was almost like Ignacio could read his mind.
The apartment was only a block away. Before he reached the front steps, he felt an urge to check his phone. His heart almost stopped. "Oh, God, how could I have forgotten to look at it?" he thought. He could only imagine what his eyes would see when he checked it. It was then that he realized he should stop and think about what he was doing, instead of running in mindlessly.
Stopping about half a block from the apartment, he pulled out the pepper spray from his coat pocket and stuffed it into the back of his pants. He hoped that his shirt and vest were good enough to hide it as he pulled them over the slightly obvious canister. It was better than nothing. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was about 4:45 P.M. He had about fifteen minutes to get Blaine and get their asses out of there before Elias was to arrive.
As he approached the door, he pulled out his phone to check his message. He almost dropped his phone when he read the text from Blaine.
ELIAS CAME EARLY. HE IS DIE STÄRKE. I THINK HE KNOWS I KNOW. DON'T COME. CALL THE COPS!
Everything happened so quickly, Kurt didn't know what hit him. One second he was checking his phone and the next he was being pulled through the entrance and slammed against the wall. Immediately he felt the air being forced from his lungs as he slouched over and coughed. A massive hand grabbed his throat and pulled him back up. He was faced with a monster of a man, standing at least six foot four inches. Based on the grip he had around his throat, Kurt could tell this man was dangerously strong.
Another hand came into view from the left and snatched his phone from his hand. Kurt turned to face this other person and his eyes nearly popped out of his skull. Benjamin laughed cheekily at him and turned to his monstrous friend,
"Er kennt mich."***
The two men shared a laugh as Benjamin threw the phone to the floor and stomped on it, leaving a pile of plastic and glass shards behind.
"Welcome home, Kurt."
He looked past his two captors to see another familiar face standing at the closed door of the apartment. He felt sick to his stomach. It was all starting to make sense. Elias was charming, and handsome, and a manipulative bastard who obviously didn't work alone.
Christian grabbed Kurt by the back of the neck and made him walk toward Peter at the door. Were he alone, he would have started fighting back with all of his might. But he couldn't leave Blaine alone with these men. If he got away now, they would surely kill him.
Once he was face to face with Peter, he began to tremble. His shoulder bag and coat were removed and tossed aside. He could feel his heartbeat in his temples as a layer of sweat coated his hands. Peter lifted the Bowie knife and placed it to Kurt's cheek. He shut his eyes tightly, afraid of what physical pain was about to come.
"Come, Kurt. Save your prince."
The sliding door moved quickly to the right and Kurt was hit with the realization that this may be his and Blaine's last night on this Earth. He hoped that Garret would keep his promise and send them help before it was too late.
