Carol just couldn't vacuum Kurt's bedroom.

Nobody could argue that it was the most chic room in the house, and when nobody was around. Carol sometimes just stood in the doorway and gazed at the velvety cushions, the complementary color scheme, the beautiful curtains.

Besides the police, the room hadn't been entered at all since Kurt disappeared the previous week. Burt, Carol, and Finn all tried to go into his room, but none of them had the heart to. So the lamp was still lit and the bed unmade, waiting for him to come home.

Days passed. They merged together as Kurt lost all sense of time, sanity, and date. Sebastian didn't come every day, but when he did, it hurt. A lot. And either ended with Sebastian giving up, or Kurt. Kurt could almost feel his ribs, and the goosebumps from the cold were now always on his skin.

Sebastian came for Kurt at the crack of dawn four days into his imprisonment. He smirked at the bruises blossoming on Kurt's light skin, the bags under his eyes, and the terrified expression. If Sebastian had already had this much of an impact on the boy, what would he look like in another week? Or a month?

The possibilities were endless.

"Sebastian. To what do I owe the honor this time?" asked Kurt dryly when he'd pulled himself to his feet.

"It's early. Nobody's around. Let's go get some air. Maybe a change of clothes."

Sebastian glanced disdainfully at the ragged off-the-shoulder cashmere top Kurt had been wearing when he'd been abducted.

"Yeah, and maybe we'll get a heart for you," suggested Kurt. "Or a soul. You are in desperate need of both."

"You ought to learn some respect." snapped Sebastian. He pulled a shotgun from a pocket. "You coming?" he asked, indifferently wiping dust off of the barrel.

"Wouldn't miss it," said Kurt in a very small voice.

"Well, let's go," Sebastian hauled Kurt to his feet and guided him upstairs. Kurt could finally see where he was. He was in Dalton Academy.

Shock. Then relief. Then horror. Did Sebastian really have the balls to hide him in his own private school?

"Don't even try," hissed Sebastian as Kurt stumbled, disoriented. He could barely see anything, because his vision was blurred and the sunrise was a deep shade of orange, not yellow. All lights in the school were off.

On the two boys walked until they were out of the Academy and into the parking lot. Keeping a tight hold on Kurt's wrist, he unlocked the door to a silver convertible.

Alarm bells went off in Kurt's head. You should never go in a car with your captor. Then they could take you anywhere.

Despite these alarming thoughts, Kurt allowed Sebastian to shove him into the back seat, his head sliding across the shiny black leather bench seat.

Sebastian talked for awhile once they were driving away, to only Sebastian knew where. Kurt could have lifted his head to see where they were going, but he couldn't summon the strength.

A set of rules were to be followed if Kurt was not in the basement. He was not to speak to anybody unless Sebastian had approved, any escape attempts would result in a bullet, and trying to get help from a nearby stranger was forbidden.

"Are you done now?" Kurt asked hollowly when it seemed like the Warbler had finally run out of breath.

"Do you want to add something?" Sebastian twisted around and sneered.

"I would. I know I was a terrified little weakling yesterday morning. You had the element of surprise.

"But now that's gone and you have nothing over me. So you can let me out at the curb now."

Sebastian's glossy shoes pressed on the break. He climbed out of the seat so that he was looming over Kurt.

"You really think you're something special, don't you, Hummel?"

"Yes. I am special," he snapped back. "And you can't break me."

Sebastian grinned. "You really shouldn't have said that."

And then he turned back around and started up the engine once again.

Kurt decided that he truly hated Sebastian Smythe. He'd intensely disliked him from the start – his smirking face, his arrogant attitude, his blatant ploy to steal Blaine – but it was then that the hate sank into his skin and soaked his insides.

"We're here," Sebastian spoke the first words since Kurt/s outburst. "My house."

"Won't Daddy be upset that his ickle Sebbie's breaking the law?" Kurt tried to sound disdainful rather than nervous.

Sebastian snorted. "Doubt it."

He walked around the car to the other side and opened the door. "Can you walk now?" he asked sarcastically.

Kurt hoisted himself out of the car, and to his relief, he could stand. However, he almost fell over when Sebastian regained the iron grip on his carpals.

Sebastian guided him through a bunch of kitchens and doorways, chandeliers dripping from the high ceilings.

No living souls were in sight. Until they reached Sebastian's bedroom. A heavier Warbler was sprawled on the bed reading a magazine. When Sebastian guided Kurt into the room, Trent set the magazine down and avoided Kurt's gaze.

"Kurt Hummel – meet Trent Wilcox."

"Hi," Trent said to the beige carpet.

Kurt recognized his voice from yesterday, but something told him that Trent wouldn't want Sebastian to know. So he kept his mouth shut.

Sebastian closed and locked the door behind him, then faced Kurt. "I'm sure you want some more clothes," he suggested, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. He opened a drawer and pulled out a bundle of navy and red.

"Holy...no!" Kurt cried when he realized what he was being told to wear. "No! I refuse to wear the Dalton Blazer."

"Aw, come on, Kurt!" pouted Sebastian. "If you keep the blazer on, I'll give you breakfast and lunch. Maybe dinner."

Kurt shook his head and Sebastian, gritting his teeth, raised a crowbar over his head.

"'Bastian!" blurted Trent. "Why don't you show him Scary Canary?"

"Yeah, sure," he set the crowbar down on his nightstand and walked over to a small tank that was partially obscured by CD's and movie cases. He pulled something out of the tank, then hid it behind his back as he faced Kurt again.

Kurt watched him nervously.

"So. You were a Warbler once," smirked Sebastian. "And you remember getting a canary as a gift?"

Kurt nodded slowly. Pavarotti had been a dear friend.

"When I joined the Warblers – it was before you – I got a canary named Immortal.

Trent added helpfully, "And you hated that name!"

Sebastian nodded. "I did. So after I became the leader of the Warblers, I bought a little friend at the pet store to see if Immortal was really immortal.

He strode towards Kurt and held out his hands.

A furry tarantula rested in his palm, its menacing black eyes glaring at everything.

"So I bought Scary Canary and put him in Immortal's cage. Went to school. Never saw that stupid bird again."

"That's evil!" Kurt snapped. "You're evil."

"Do you want to pet him?"

"No!"

"But he wants to meet you." Sebastian snickered.

Kurt flinched. Sebastian was seriously enjoying this. Scary Canary flexed it's many legs.

"Look, Kurt, you made him mad. Now you have to pet him."

He cupped the spider in his hand and reached out to Kurt's shoulder. He dumped the furry arachnid on to Kurt's sweater.

Kurt stared straight ahead, not daring to breathe, nor move. Because what if Scary Canary crawled down his shirt? Or bit him? Or crawled in his mouth? Or his ear?

"So do tarantulas eat birds?" Trent tried to divert Sebastian's attention. Because he was staring at Kurt's frozen face with triumphant malice.

"I don't know! Haven't you heard of Google?" Sebastian tore his gaze away from Kurt.

Scary Canary suddenly fell off of the slippery cashmere and started scuttling towards the desk. Sebastian scooped him up and set him back in the tank.

"I don't think he likes you very much," Sebastian grinned. "But I guess I don't, either."

Sebastian excused himself to the kitchen to bully the cook and instructed Trent to watch Kurt, who was staring forlornly at the apparel that made him want to throw up.

"I can't," he whispered.

Trent watched him sympathetically. "I'm really sorry, Kurt," he said quietly. "I wish I could help."

Kurt just looked at him. "I get it. You can't help me. And I understand. We all know what's going to happen. Sebastian will have his fun with me, I die, and everybody forgets about me."

His eyes filled up with tears as he realized the reality of his words. People would have to move on. Kurt had to get away. He just had to.

"Uh, Kurt?" Trent said softly. "Can you please put the uniform on? 'Bastian said I have to make you wear it or I can't sing at regionals." He looked genuinely upset.

"I – I –" stammered Kurt. "I – can you just leave me alone for a minute? I'm not going to escape or whatever. I just want a bit of time. You can guard the door or something."

"I can go in his private bathroom," offered Trent helpfully. "Just come get me when you're ready."

"Thank you," Kurt gave him a thin smile and watched Trent seal himself in the bathroom.

Finally alone in a place that was not in a basement. Kurt sank on to the mattress, curled up in a ball, and allowed his eyes to leak the salty tears all over the pillows.

He just had to get out, back to his family, his wardrobe, Glee club, and most of all, Blaine. He must be sick with worry. Sick. If he could only hear his voice, just once more...

Kurt heard odd choking noises and realized that they were coming from him. He stuffed his fist in his mouth the stifle the wails escaping his throat in short, powerful bursts.

Trent's ear was pressed against the bathroom door. He heard Kurt's lament clearly and it made him upset. The cries of agony were almost enough to make him bust open the door and let Kurt go. He could hear that Kurt was saying somebody's name. Blaine probably. Which he sobbed over and over.

Trent hoped that Sebastian would stay away until Kurt had gotten it all out. Sebastian probably would have filmed it or something. He was so cruel. Trent wished he was strong enough to stand up to him.

Finally, he opened the door and slipped into the bedroom. "Kurt?"

Kurt lifted his tear-streaked head. "What?"

Trent put a hand on his shoulder. He heard the door click and jerked away as if the bed was on fire. Kurt wiped his eyes and rolled off the mattress.

"I thought you'd be in your outfit by now," Sebastian sighed. "Cook made breakfast, and as far as I can recall, all you've had in the past days are a few sandwiches and a bottle of water."

He leaned closer, and Kurt recoiled. "Were you crying, Hummel?"

"Leave him alone," said Trent suddenly. "He never did anything to you, 'Bastian."

"Fine," said Sebastian suddenly. "I was planning to do this at the end of the month, but might as well do it next week since you two are so uncooperative."

He snapped his fingers at Kurt. "You. I need you in your uniform, half-starved, and bruised a pretty royal purple. Preferably in the next week."

Then his gaze drifted to Trent. "And you need to decide where your loyalties lie."

Kurt whimpered as quietly as he could.

"Put. It. On. You. Hopeless. Gay-Face." Sebastian shoved the blazer into Kurt's chest and glared at him. Kurt slowly stood up.

"I'm not doing anything until you tell me exactly what is going on." he said in a quavering, but strong voice.

"Okay. Let's chat." Sebastian pushed Kurt against his desk and placed himself in the swiveling chair. "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know your plan details, and I want to know what will happen once they're done with." Kurt snapped, hastily wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

Sebastian smiled. "My plan is pretty intricate. Well, here I go. You will get to see Blaine."

Kurt did not smile. He didn't want to involve Blaine at all. This would end badly for both of them, then.

"We're going to have some fun with my video camera. I wrote out some scripts last night, which you will act out on camera. I will record it, and deliver the DVD to McKinley High. I'm sure your little Glee club will all see it."

He snapped his fingers. "Trent! The script?"

"Oh," said Trent distractedly. "Right." he pulled a sheaf of papers from the black nightstand and tossed them in Sebastian's general direction. One of the pages drifted on to Kurt's lap, and he scanned it.

Kurt:

I am in a very secret location!

Me:

(disembodied voice to avoid detection) Do you want Blaine Anderson to save you?

Kurt:

Oh yes I do!

Me:

(disembodied voice) Well, you heard him, Blaine! You will here from him again soon!

Kurt:

Oh help me! (cries)

-end of video 18-

Kurt slammed the paper into the thick carpet. "No." he said flatly. "I absolutely refuse to film videos with the soul purpose of tormenting Blaine."

"Okay, maybe it needs a little work," confessed Sebastian. "I'm making Trent edit them. Look at one of his, they're golden."

He slid another paper off the desk for Kurt to read.

Camera focuses on grainy blue uniform, then zooms out to reveal KURT.

Kurt:

(pitiful moan)

Bastian:

(voice over, as requested) These are the weak remains of a person you once loved. If you want him back, you'll do exactly what we say –

Kurt crumpled it up and chucked it at Sebastian. "You heartless troll." he spat.

"I appreciate your feedback," replied Sebastian with a toothy smile.

Kurt snapped. Launching himself off of the floor, he hurdled at Sebastian Smythe like a rocket, landing a solid punch to the jaw.

Kurt really wasn't the fighting type; it surprised him when a burst of pleasure shot through his body. Sebastian deserved this pain.

The feeling was short-lived. Sebastian snarled and his hands closed around Kurt's neck.

"Trent," he called angrily. "Go get me some brunch."

Trent scurried from the room like a mouse.

A/N: 17 reviews. I love you.

I just discover that I have been misspelling Carol's name. Heh. Oh well.

Sorry for the long-ness of this chapter. I am updating every other day now :)

See you next time, and as always, REVIEW! 3