Breakfast ended (eventually) and soon enough Blaine was waiting behind the equipment shed. He had no idea whether or not Kurt would come, but was afraid to get his hopes up. During the day, Kurt belonged to the prison. Since the shed was so close to the many fences concealing them within the prison, from where he was sat he could see the world outside it. So he sat there, waiting and not waiting for Kurt to come, watching the world he would be cut off from for twelve more years. There was a small forest about fifty yards from the prison gates, thick and seamed to stretch on and on and on.

'In twelve years time,' he thought to himself, 'when I walk out those prison doors for the final time, I'll run through that forest. I'll run through it and won't stop until I'm completely lost. I'm a murdered, an outcast in the real world. But… in that forest… I will be free. I'll build myself a little house in one of the trees, eat fruit and berries and drink rainwater. Just me… all alone. Completely free'.

It felt like a wonderful dream, but deep down he knew it was a stupid idea. Like the way a child dreams of going to Hogwarts, the way a teenage a teenage girl dreams of marrying a celebrity or the way a nerd dreams of travelling with the Doctor in his Tardis. It was nice to think about, and the more he thought about it the more he convinced himself that it would come true. But he knew that as soon as he was free he'd go to his bank, take out all his savings and just be able to afford a cheep apartment. He'd manage on the money for a few months, but he'd need to find work. Only nobody would hire him. People wanted 'hard working' and 'dependable' and 'friendly', not 'murderer' or 'convict' or 'guilty'.

He wondered about going back to his hometown, but he doubted he'd be welcomed back there. His father may have been a homophobic, arrogant asshole, but as far as his town was concerned he was practically a local hero. A man who served his community, managed to raise one son right he would go on to become a local celebrity, but was killed by his faggot son. Yes, he would be mourned. Blaine wouldn't be surprised if there was a golden statue of him in the park by the time he got out. He had never had desire to stay within that town; they would be more afraid and disgusted because he was gay then the fact he's a convicted murderer.

He could still remember the day he did it. He will always remember it, every second of it clear and vivid in his memory. The way his father's face drained of colour and his eyes widened when the knife went in… his mother's screams… the police sirens approaching them as everything started to go black…

"Blaine!" he was snapped out of this trance at the sound of his name, glancing up to find Kurt standing there, looking quietly concerned, "Blaine, are you… are you okay?"

"… Hmm? Oh, oh yeah, I'm okay. I-I'm okay…" Blaine stammered, shaking his mind clear. "You… you came?" he asked in dumb disbelief.

"Well yeah, I said I'd try." Kurt smiled, sitting down beside Blaine.

"I-I know… I just didn't think that… Sebastian would let you."

"I think he's done being mad. For now, anyway." Kurt sighed a little, Blaine noticed how Kurt was gazing through the fences and over to the forest, as if his eyes were scanning every single leaf. "Did you hurt you badly?"

"Who? Sebastian? Oh no… not really…" Blaine lied, even though his throat still felt like it was being squeezed tightly.

"Blaine… I can see the bruises." Kurt sighed.

"Wh-what?" Blaine's eyes went wide, his fingers touching his neck. He winced, pain emitting from where his fingers touched his neck. For all around his neck there were large, dark purple bruises, rather blotchy but unmistakably in the shape of a hand.

"Here, let me look." Kurt took Blaine's hand in his own, Blaine marvelled at how soft and warm his hand was and allowed Kurt to lower his own from his neck to his lap. Kurt's fingers then gently touched the flesh of Blaine's neck. Blaine hissed, expecting pain, but Kurt's touch was go soft, so gentle that he barely felt a thing. He kept his gaze ahead of him, but could see Kurt in the corner of his eye. He looked concerned, almost worried, "Oh Blaine… it looks so painful… I'm so sorry." He whispered.

"Y-yeah it is… just a little bit."

"Oh Blaine, don't feel you need to act brave in front of me." Kurt smiled and shook his head a little.

"I-I-I don't-"

"Shh." Kurt shushed him softly, still examining his neck with his feathery soft touch. God, Blaine just wanted him to press a little bit harder. Sure, it's hurt like hell, but he wanted it… he wanted to feel Kurt's fingertips against the pulse in his neck… He shut his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy the gentle sensation of Kurt's touch. If his fingers were this soft, what must his lips be like? He became lost in the thought of Kurt's feathery soft, warm and lighter then air lips pressed against his neck. There was no pain, but Kurt's perfect lips pressed against the flesh of his neck, Kurt's eyelashes against his skin. Kurt's lips would tease his neck, his tongue would dart between his lips to taste his neck… then they would slowly begin to move upwards, brushing against his jaw line before coming to rest upon Blaine's awaiting lips…

"Blaine?" Kurt's voice awoke him again from his trance, Blaine's eyes snapped open.

"Y-yeah?"

"Sorry, you fell asleep."

What? "What?"

"Yeah, you've been asleep for ages. I didn't want to wake you, but we're about to go back in soon. Everyone in our section of the prison have community service." Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed, "Like raking leaves off of football pitches or picking up trash will make prisoners civil."

Blaine felt his heart sink. He had a whole hour to spend alone with Kurt, where they wouldn't have to worry about being overheard and he had slept through it! Inspite of the anger he was feeling, he pondered about what Kurt said. Make prisoners civil… was there really anything that could? He glanced at Kurt, taking in his soft perfection and gentle grace… how could a guy like this end up in prison this early in his life? He only looked about Blaine's age.

"… How come you're in jail?" Blaine asked, his curiosity too great to put off until that night.

Kurt paused, biting his bottom lip. Blaine could tell he was trying to find the right words, "… I was framed for attempted murder. I'm in jail, but I'm innocent." There was something about the tone of Kurt's voice and the firmness of the last word which told Blaine the conversation was over, and daren't ask any more questions. It made perfect sense to him. Kurt was gentle, kind and (in Blaine's view) perfect, he could never try to take the life of another human being. He wanted to keep talking, though, to find out everything about Kurt. Sebastian's words echoed in his mind, but he wasn't doing anything wrong, right? Simply… being curious. Besides, maybe Kurt was… straight. And if he was then there was no way he could like Blaine back and Sebastian would have nothing to worry about.

"Erm… Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you… well… do you like- I-I mean-"

"Yep. I like boys." Kurt gave a nod, turning to face Blaine, a smile played on his lips as he awaited a response.

"… Really?" Blaine felt both a stab of dread and a wave of joy.

"Really. Don't worry, I'm not going to jump you in the cell." Kurt chuckled. Blaine shook his head a little, only Kurt could make such a light comment about rape when he was subject to it almost everyday. Blaine figured Kurt would have to find some humour in it, otherwise it'd be unbearable. But despite the way he'd joke about it, or act like he doesn't mind, Blaine could just tell it was killing him inside. He felt like he was seeing into Kurt's soul every waking second. He could almost feel the pain radiating from the other boy, the fear, the self-loathing, regretting every decision he'd ever made. Blaine recognized all these feelings, as he too had felt them. He had been subject to all the feelings and all those thoughts. He could see them in Kurt's eyes; he had the same gloomy, tired eyes and the same well-practiced-and-convincing-but-still-fake smile that Blaine saw in himself whenever he'd look in the mirror. Blaine had gone through hell… but Kurt had gone through so much worse.

"What about you? What's your team?" Kurt asked, breaking Blaine's train of thought.

Blaine wanted to say 'straight', because that was he might be able to control himself better, but he simply couldn't lie to Kurt. It was like lying to one's mother.

"I'm… I'm gay. One hundred percent gay." He admitted, not meeting Kurt's gaze.

"Good to see you're so sure. Out?"

"… Yeah…. Though, not by choice."

"Want to talk about it?" Kurt asked. No, he didn't want to… because he'd have to tell Kurt the other event that happened on that day. Kurt was a good person, a good, wonderful, gentle person. He may be in here for attempted murder but he was innocent. Blaine was in for murder, and he was guilty. Would Kurt understand, or hate him? Then suddenly, he realized he had to tell him. He needed Kurt to hate him; it was the only way to protect himself and Kurt. Kurt needed to see him as a murderer and a beast; it was the only way… Blaine's heart sank lower; harsh reality was coming down on him hard. He turned to face Kurt; gentle, soft, beautiful, funny, clever, brave, perfect perfect Kurt. Kurt was looking at him calmly, blue eyes soft and smile curious. It was the last time he'd ever look at him in this way again. He didn't want to imagine the look of loathing and hate in Kurt's beautiful eyes, he'd have to prepare himself for it.

"… Okay… It was a couple of weeks ago-"

.

"Oh god," Kurt rolled his eyes, "there goes the bell, play times over."

Blaine felt relieved, even though he knew he was just dragging it out longer. Kurt jumped to his feet, and held out a hand to Blaine. Blaine looked at the hand, and then to Kurt's radiant face. If he wanted, no, needed Kurt to hate him, he could start now. Blaine tucked his legs under himself and pushed himself up from the ground, standing straight up. Kurt watched him, arm still outstretched. "O-oh… oh, alright. I'll… bye." Kurt looked hurt, like Blaine had just insulted him. Kurt's gaze dropped to the floor as he hurried off, like a scolded child who was trying to look brave in front of the other children. Blaine felt horrible… absolutely awful. He loathed himself; he despised what he had just done and what he'd have to do. The only shred of comfort he had was knowing it was all to save Kurt. Well… keep him safe. He knew what Kurt was going through now was bad, but it could only get worse. Blaine's job was to stop that from happening, no matter the cost. Even if it meant letting the one thing he had ever truly loved hate him.

Blaine sank down to the floor, leaning against the stupid equipment shed. He didn't care that he had to go in, the guards would come get him soon enough. He felt worse then how he felt when he was declared guilty. He wished he had never; ever met Kurt Hummel… had never fallen in love with him… and never have put both their lives in danger by falling in love with him. But he did love him. Meeting him was just the spark, and now his whole world was in flames. Endless burning, endless pain, impossible to escape from. Two days down, only four thousand, three hundred and seventy four left to go.

Authors note: Hello perfect human being who has been reading my fanfiction. First of all, I love you, secondly thank you so much for reading/reviewing/favoriting this story. Thirdly, to thank you the next chapter will be an extra long chapter. Sadly, this means it will take a while to finish, but I'm on study leave and have finished all my exams, so I can devote a lot of time to this (I know, I have no life). Please stick with me, and I'll try my best to keep your faith in me!

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