Chapter Six

Mercedes snatched her ringing cell phone off of her nightstand and ran her thumb over the answer key in annoyance. She could hear it ringing on repeat while she was in the shower and it started up again the second she entered her room dressed in her fluffy yellow robe. It was Kurt. Why was she not surprised?

"Mercedes, don't go down-"

"Boy, stop calling me! I need some space, Kurt! Deal with it." She hung up before he could get another word in and when it started ringing right away she snapped the back open and took the battery out.

She was feeling too much. Tina and Artie's deaths alone were enough to consume her every thought. Before she had Glee and the small social circle the club afforded her, they had been her friends. She ached for Tina's shared laughter and Artie's faux street talk like she couldn't believe. She didn't have much experience with grief and hadn't known before that it hurt, actually physically hurt to lose people she loved. Mike, Lauren, and Sam were good people, and they were gone too. Now with Santana and Brittany killing themselves, actually killing themselves amidst all of their other grief, she had a whole lot of anger piled onto her sadness.

She was feeling too much and couldn't deal with her best friend's mental breakdown too. Kurt, the psychic prophet, could lean on Finn for a while, because she just couldn't handle that craziness on top of everything else. If that made her a bad friend that was just something she'd have to deal with later, when she had enough emotional room in her body to pay it any attention.

It was late. Super late. She just wanted to crawl into bed and go to sleep, so of course that's when her stomach decided to growl. She moaned, because it was a bad idea. She did not need to start stress eating right now or she was going to be the size of the house by the time she got through this year. But. One slice of her mom's cherry pie wouldn't hurt.

Stepping into her fuzzy slippers, she padded out of her room and down the hall for the stairs. Her mom was no doubt already asleep, but she could hear the soft hum of the living room television on downstairs where her father was probably still up watching Craig Ferguson.

At the top of the stairs, she yawned and stretched, stepping down onto the carpeted first step and reaching for the banister. Her little cousins were there earlier, so she shouldn't have been all that surprised by the toys littering the path or the slick feel of yellow paint as her palm slid over it on the banister. But she was. Her hand slipped down unexpectedly through the thick liquid and she dipped forward, taking a harsh misstep onto a toy car and falling forward.

She cried out as she went down, banging into the steps. Her hand smacked against her cousin's ice skate and knocked it ahead of her down the stairs. Mercedes tumbled down, rolling and slamming into each step roughly. She flipped over with time enough to panic as her face slammed toward the blade of the ice skate before a sneakered foot kicked it across the room and she plowed hard into the hardwood floor at the bottom of the landing.

"Mercedes!" Two voices screamed in unison, one much higher than the gruffer one coming from her father as he ran to the staircase.

She felt like she had been stoned, put in a blender and then poured down the garbage disposal. She slowly raised her head to see Finn looking down at her as he bent into a squat, reaching hesitantly for her. Her eyes rolled toward the ice skate now laying harmlessly against a far wall and looked back up at Finn. He would be getting a lot of baked goods from her for a while.

Before she could assess whether she'd actually broken anything or done any serious damage to herself, her father was pushing Finn out of the way and examining her himself. As he fussed and asked her questions she was still too filled with adrenaline to understand, she looked up at Kurt standing off to the side watching her fearfully. What had he tried to yell at her over the phone before she hung up on him?

Mercedes, don't go down-

She had a pretty good idea that sentence would have ended with stairs and maybe would have included sharp blades to the face… She slumped against her father and shut her eyes.

Prophet Kurt it was.

Kurt knelt at the end of Finn's bed staring at him play his PSP as he yawned against the headboard. His thumbs flew all over the place as he looked down at the little screen playing some mind numbing game or another. His hair was wet from the shower and his bare feet occasionally bumped Kurt's knees as he bobbed them casually.

Mercedes left with her parents to the hospital and only got Kurt not to follow her by promising to text him as soon as she was cleared. She seemed pretty positive that she was fine, but her gaze had flicked away from his several times before she squeezed him tightly.

"I believe you, Kurt." She had whispered in his ear and a two ton weight left his shoulders. Those were the only three words he had wanted to hear from her since this all began. Not 'I believe that you believe'; just the absolute faith that best friendship had spoiled him with. With Mercedes on his side, he felt much better about the situation. Until he realized who was next.

Finn didn't share his concern or at least he was refusing to talk about it. They drove home and he went straight to his room after telling his mom about what happened with Mercedes and how they had to rush out earlier because Kurt had another one of his feelings. Burt had already spoken to Carole about it, but the new information seemed to make her even more uncomfortable. She wasn't on board with the whole psychic thing, and Kurt didn't blame her. He loved Carole, but her disbelief didn't cause him any grief either. As long as it didn't interfere with him protecting Finn, she could believe whatever she wanted.

Ten minutes ago he got a text.

From Mercedes:

All good. Docs say I'm lucky. LUCK, huh… 3 u

After that he was able to focus his complete attention on Finn; an intense concentration that was beginning to wear on Finn apparently. He flipped his game off and tossed it on the nightstand, looking up at Kurt.

"Dude. You're staring."

"Yes." Kurt answered.

"Quit it."

"No." Kurt replied, not even blinking between responses.

Finn sighed and leaned forward reaching for him and tugging him up on the bed with him. He kicked at the covers until he could pull it over them and tucked Kurt into his side.

"I'm safe." Finn whispered against his cheek.

Kurt scoffed. "How can you say that? It, the devil-demon-grim reaper thing has you in its sights. There's no way to hide from it. And no offense, but you're kind of a giant target. You're like the opposite of a needle in a hay stack. It's like looking for hay."

Finn chuckled into his hair, and Kurt frowned.

"Maybe." Finn conceded. "But I have you. You'll feel something or see something, and we'll stop it. I'm not going anywhere."

Kurt's eyes watered and he gripped the arm Finn had around him tightly. "Tell that to Brittany and Santana."

Finn pulled him closer against him. "How bout I tell that to Mr. Schue and Mercedes."

Kurt twisted in his arms and faced him with a deep frown. "Stop being so optimistic. It's not helping, and we don't know that I'll get another feeling. This whole thing is crazy and unpredictable."

Finn pushed at Kurt's bangs, eyes flicking over his face as he pet him. He shrugged against the mattress. "Fine. You won't see anything, and I'm going to die. Who cares?" He squeezed Kurt's waist when he let out a choked noise and went back to petting his hair back. "You believe in God now, right? So, we'll be together again eventually anyway. Win, win."

Kurt's hand jumped up to Finn's cheek and he looked him in the eye with a lump in his throat. "Shut up." He tilted up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, dissolving into it for a while. He broke away but didn't move back, staring at him seriously. "I mean it. Go back to optimism."

Finn kissed him again, turning to press him down into the bed. "I'm safe." He whispered. "You're going to save me."

Kurt tried to focus on Finn's warm body above him and not on how quickly his heart was racing, because for once in his life Finn couldn't afford to be wrong.

It was hot. Really hot. Couldn't get enough air in his lungs hot. Kurt tried to take a big breath, but there was something eating up the air in the tight space he seemed to be stuck in. He looked around wildly but it was pitch black. He reached out and felt along for a door or a latch, but he seemed to be trapped in a four sided structure, like a box or a… Or a coffin.

Panic exploded within Kurt and he pounded on the roof of the structure, beginning to scream-only his voice didn't sound like him. Instead of letting out a high pitched yelp, his shouts were deep and booming. Kind of exactly like Finn would have sounded.

Finn.

The thought yanked Kurt out of the dream and sent him shooting up in bed. He pat the empty bed beside him.

"Finn," he choked out, voice raspy with sleep. Shoving the covers off of him, he stumbled out of bed and hurried to the door, throwing it open and flying out into the hall. "Finn?" He called louder, heart hammering in his chest. Setting off at a clumsy jog, he hurried to the staircase and went down like there was a giant Indiana Jones ball rolling toward him.

He was almost hysterical by the time he reached the kitchen, "Finn!"

Kurt ran through the door and Finn jumped hard at the table, looking up at him startled. His cheeks were stuffed and there was a basket full of sweets on the table in front of him. Kurt sunk against the counter, overwhelmed with relief.

"You weren't there when I woke up." He panted.

Finn looked down at the half-eaten muffin in his hand and back up at him. "Mercedes stopped by already. She stayed up baking all this stuff for us!" He beckoned to the sugar, fat, and calorie buffet like it was the answer to world peace. Kurt slunk over and collapsed into the chair next to him, still trying to get his heart rate down. Finn reached out and ran his fingers through his rarely seen messy bed-head. "You okay?"

Kurt briefly debated whether or not to tell Finn what he dreamt, but if he didn't and something in it could have helped Finn avoid trouble he would never forgive himself. He swallowed, hating the icky morning taste in his mouth. He needed to sneak away to brush his teeth. Maybe he could convince Finn to come with him so he could keep an eye on him in the mirror. He wondered if those tracking ankle bracelets were sold commercially.

"I had a dream about you." He confessed.

Finn sniggered and his hand dropped to his leg, way too smug to even be in the same realm of thought as Kurt.

"Not that kind of dream." Kurt clarified and looked at him pointedly. Finn's smile only slightly dimmed, but after a few moments of being stared down by Kurt he finally got it.

"Oh." He went stiff. "So…you know. You know how… You know how I'm…going to… Uh… Oh."

Kurt waited patiently for him to ramble himself out, reaching down and squeezing the hand on his leg. "Maybe." He answered, because it was always possible that he just had a bad dream about Finn because he was stressing about something bad happening to Finn. That wasn't what it felt like though. "This is good." He assured Finn. "This is what we wanted, right? A sign."

Finn didn't look so sure. "Right. Um. Don't tell me."

"Finn!" Kurt exclaimed. They couldn't afford to be chickens about this. Chickens got themselves killed. He needed to put on his kilt and sew one for Finn too, because it was gay Braveheart time. At least until they got through this, and then they could devolve into hysterical chickens.

"You can know, and that's cool. Good even. Yeah, you can look out for me. Make sure I don't step in a bear trap or whatever it is you saw. But me, no. I shouldn't know. Last night it was thermo rhetorical-"

"Theoretical."

"Yeah, but now it's-I mean, you already had a dream, so it's going to happen soon right? Like today? Like in a few minutes-Shit, Kurt, was I in a kitchen?" Finn was losing it, and if Kurt let himself think about it too hard he was going to lose it too. "I was, wasn't I? What is it? I was going to fry some eggs-it was the frying pan right? Or the gas? Did I blow up? Is mom in the house when it happens-"

Kurt reached out and slapped the muffin out of Finn's hand, sending it tumbling over the table until it rolled off the edge and plopped on the floor. It was stupid, but it worked. Finn froze and shut up, watching its slow demise. He looked slowly back at Kurt, lips parted and breathing deeply through his mouth, but silent.

"You weren't in a kitchen." He promised. Finn nodded mutely. "You were in a tight space. It was dark, and it was hard to breathe." There really was no easy way to say it, so he just blurted it out. "I'm pretty sure you were in a coffin."

Finn's brow furrowed as he puzzled that out. "Like buried alive?" A giant grin spread across his face. Uh-oh. Which was worse, panicked and hysterical or getting nutty with stress? "Well, that's easy then! I won't go to a cemetery or anywhere that has coffins, so I won't fall in one or whatever."

Kurt wasn't so positive. "Someone might put you in one intentionally." He pointed out.

Finn shook his head and shrugged unconvinced. "No way. Who would want to kill me?"

Besides Death, he didn't know. No one. "This doesn't mean you can get careless. We're not even sure the dream was really prophetic, and even if it was, the plan could always change if we try to change things."

Finn nodded seriously, but Kurt could tell he was relaxing at the thought of coffins being the only thing he needed to avoid. After all, how often did he find himself among coffins anyway? 'Never' seemed like the appropriate word. Kurt frowned and vowed to keep him stuck to his hip for as long as it took for them to get through this. How hard could it be to keep track of one Frankenteen?

Kurt was sitting on Finn's lap in the choir room as he practiced the drums around him, only moving to adjust Kurt's weight higher on his thigh when he first sat down. Kurt leaned back against him, dropping his head to his shoulder and just listening to Finn hit the drums with practiced precision. It was odd how much rhythm he had when he played percussion but that rhythm completely disappeared when he tried to dance.

Three days had passed since his dream, but nothing had happened. He kept Finn in his sights at all times, only leaving him when he needed to use the restroom, and even then he stayed outside the door and waited, listening for sounds of trouble. He was starting to suffocate Finn, he knew, though he was being a good sport about it since the alternative seemed to be a brutal death.

Glee was over. They only kept going because they all sensed that this was it. Graduation was just around the corner, and then most of them would disappear from each other's lives. Part of Kurt ached at the thought, but a much larger part was too focused on survival to give the end of high school much thought. Besides, 'yay, no more Karofsky or Karofsky-like henchman', he hadn't paid it much attention at all.

Mr. Schuester looked tired. Rachel called Kurt and said their teacher was staying at her house, a weird but oddly fitting arrangement. Kurt didn't want anything to happen to him either, but he could hardly imagine extending an invitation for him to come stay with him until everything was sorted. Though, he figured Mr. Schuester was in the clear already since Death already came for him and was thwarted. It couldn't hurt to be precautious though, so he hadn't nudged Rachel to kick him out or anything.

"You ready?" Finn asked with a yawn as he wrapped up his drum solo and sat back, setting his sticks down. Kurt nodded and slid off of his lap.

"Hey, Rachel." Kurt called to her as everyone began collecting their stuff. "Keep your phone charged, on, and with you at all times." His look was pointed and serious. She stared at him a moment, but she got it. She was next after Finn. She nodded plainly and Kurt noticed Mr. Schue watching them. Maybe that was why he was still staying with her after recovering from the shock of the other night. His best student would soon have something dark and crazy after her, and after her intervention he sort of owed her.

Well, good. She could use all of the help she could get. They all could.

Finn ended up having to go to the locker room to get the dirty clothes he had stuffed in there out so his mom could wash them. The day he learned how to do his own laundry, the sky would probably fall on them.

By the time they made it out to the student parking lot, the rest of it was clear. Finn held his duffel bag full of smelly clothes in one hand but draped his other arm around Kurt's shoulders, giving him a small strained smile as they walked to the Navigator. They were both feeling the pressure of being on high alert twenty-four/seven. It was draining. Kurt would be surprised if they came out of this without PTSD and a lifelong commitment to psychotherapy.

They were halfway to his parking spot when his spine tingled, little ghostly spiders crawling under his skin. He shivered and turned. Out of the corner of his eye, a flash of bright red flames rose and hissed from the cement. He flinched and jumped, running into Finn and making them stumble as he whipped around to face the fire. But there was nothing there.

"Kurt-"

Finn didn't have time to finish that thought. Tall figures began popping out of their crouches from behind the Navigator, running at them like they were holding the football in the last quarter of a close football game. Kurt gasped, and Finn was in the middle of swearing, startled and shocked, when Azimio's arms closed around Kurt. His bag fell to the ground. He immediately started to struggle, mind spinning and mouth opening on instinct. He screamed, high pitched and loud, releasing his freak-out with as much volume as possible. Someone might still be lingering around campus. Someone might hear him if he made himself sound endangered enough. Except he only got half a shriek out before one of Azimio's fat hands slapped down around his mouth and muffled him.

He kicked and squirmed as he was lifted off the ground, but Azimio felt like a giant welded robot. He struggled against his machine-like grip to no avail, eyes going wide and panicked as he absorbed Finn being tackled to the ground by Karofsky, and the identical twins from the hockey team, Marcus and Manny Carter. Finn was lazy, but he worked out regularly for all of the sports he played and he had his size on his side so it was taking all three of them to keep him down as Karofsky struggled with a pair of silver handcuffs.

Handcuffs? They came prepared. He and Finn were hounded pretty regularly for being gay and daring to be open about it, but slushies, dumpster dives, and the occasional swirlie were usually the extent of their physical torment. Most of the time the goons were content to just throw some hate speech at them, guffaw and move on, slapping each other's hands. At the worst, Kurt got shoved into the lockers. It sucked and it hurt, but this was much, much worse. This was planned. Thought out, and so far it seemed to be panning out very well for them.

Karofsky got one cuff around Finn's left wrist, twisting his arm behind his back even as he managed to free one of his legs from under Marcus and kick Manny hard in the kneecap. He cried out, and Kurt felt a swell of satisfaction amidst his panic. But Karofsky already had the other handcuff on Finn and was shoving him back to his feet.

Azimio started carrying Kurt off, and he quickly realized why. A rundown blue car was speeding their way, and he saw Travis Burrows, the biggest meathead on the hockey team, behind the wheel. They really planned this out, actually spent time figuring out the best way to get them alone so they could…. Could what? What did they want? Kurt's heart was just about pounding out of his chest as the car squealed to a stop and Travis popped the trunk. His eyes grew even wider, and he began struggling manically in Azimio's hold, making it as difficult as possible for him to hold on to him.

He heard the clanking of metal as Azimio slapped him belly first against the door of the car and reached into the pocket of his letterman jacket. With his hand off of his mouth, Kurt let loose a wild scream.

Finn's grunts and noisy struggling instantly cut off with a livid shout. "Get off of him! What are you doing? Stop!"

"Let go of me, you overgrown brute!" Kurt wiggled like a furious rattlesnake, shaking and feral, but Azimio's thick fingers held him in place with bruising strength. Unlike in the monitored hallways during school hours, he wasn't holding anything back, and it hurt. Kurt's normally composed façade dropped beneath the aching grip, and his voice swelled with the fear he determinedly hid from his tormentors on every previous encounter. He tried to hide it under his indignation with little success.

Kurt swallowed hard. "What's the goal here, boys, because if you shove me in that trunk this officially escalates from bullying to kidnapping and assault!"

Kurt was yanked far enough away from the car for Azimio to smack him back against it so hard his entire chest went numb for a split second before the throbbing came, pounding along his ribcage. Kurt released an unintentional squeak of pain.

"Azimio, I'm going to kick your fucking ass!" Finn shouted so angrily he didn't sound like himself. Kurt tried to twist around to see him, because from the sound of it, it was taking the three other jocks far more effort to keep Finn restrained than it was taking Azimio to lock him in place. He couldn't turn his head enough to see them though.

"Finn!" Kurt screamed desperately, breathing in short terrified gasps as Azimio slammed a pair of handcuffs on him next.

"I swear to God if you-" The end of Finn's shout was swallowed by a hard pounding sound and a brief, low grunt. Kurt twisted around as Azimio pulled him away from the car at last and began dragging him back toward the trunk. Finn was on his knees, head lolling on his shoulders, seemingly unconscious. Marcus and Manny were holding him up on either side, and Karofsky was panting behind him with what looked like a thick red brick in his hands. A blink later though, the object altered, and Kurt looked at the heavy looking flashlight that Karofsky was actually holding in confusion. They knocked him out.

Kurt started shaking as the weight of the situation sunk in. Azimio shoved him down into the trunk, and he tried repeatedly to wiggle his way up with his hands tied behind his back, but Travis knocked him back down every time, laughing as he did. Finally, they managed to drag Finn's dead weight over, and together, the three of them that weren't on Kurt Watch lifted him up and crammed him in beside Kurt in the tight space. The last thing he saw before they closed the trunk was their smug grins, and the first thought he had when the trunk was shut tight was how the pitch black darkness made the air feel instantly thinner.

Just like a coffin.