A/N: This would've gone up earlier, but FF was being annoying. So it's up now. Sorry for all the cliffhangers! I'm trying to update as quickly as possible, because I had five chapters already written when I started posting. Unfortunately, I haven't finished chapter 6 yet, so we'll see how fast I do! Note: If you have any speculations or ideas for the plotline, I'd love to hear them! I'm always interested to see how other people interpret my stories :)
Happy reading!
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It's Puck that leads the charge, but Blaine was prepared for this. The ease with which he fizzles out the other boy's flames comes as a shock to all of them, Blaine included. A slim tube of ice water may not have been the most ideal way to do so, but it's relatively painless and quite effective, apparently.
Finn goes in for a punch aimed to maim, if not kill, when Kurt yells, "Stop! Finn!" in a voice that's equal parts shock and panic.
Finn stops. Blaine takes the opportunity to disable him, bindings unbreakable and developed by Sebastian's scientist team, pointedly not thinking about how he's taking advantage of their desperate attempts not to cause unnecessary conflict. They love him, they still do, even after everything that's happened. The thought alone nearly stops Blaine short.
The knots are perfect, and now Finn is helpless, sitting on the ground tied up. The New Directions gape. Rachel runs to kneel by him, but something stops her. Mike, guesses Blaine, but he can't tell for sure seeing that the boy is invisible at the moment.
"Blaine, you don't have to do this," says Mercedes, voice low and warning and gentle all at the same time. "Put the weapons down. Take off the cape, take off the mask, and we'll welcome you right back. You're scaring us. We love you." He swallows hard at that, but keeps his mouth shut and eyes hard. There's no use in giving them false hope, not yet at least. He loves them too, he swears. He just needs to complete the mission, keep his friends safe and alive, and find a way to escape. Three objectives, and three simple ones at that. The hard part is the execution. It's always the execution.
"Blaine, you're scaring us," pipes Rachel from where she is now, behind the rest of the group. Kurt is with her. Apparently they've learned their lesson.
"All right, I'll give you ten seconds to tell us what's going on. Otherwise we're going to have to fight you." Mercedes again. She's trying to keep the peace, but they all look uneasy.
"One," she says, and he realizes she was serious. He takes a step back.
"Two," and her brows furrow. "Three, four."
He can't deal with this anymore. He takes two more steps back and looks around nervously, shaking a little bit. None of them will notice, of course. He's always been good at looking composed.
When Mercedes reaches nine and Blaine still hasn't breathed a word, Quinn puts up a wary force field and Sam takes off into the sky. Soon, he's so high that it's impossible to see him. That could be an issue. Blaine reminds himself to watch out for that, but he also feels immense relief. He probably won't have to fight Sam. Tina presses a button on her belt, but he doesn't know what it does. He isn't sure he wants to know, to be honest. Kurt's fingernails are now as sharp as glass, but he looks absolutely terrified. Rachel is cowering behind Puck, whose skin is still steaming. It won't be long before he manages to heat up again. Brittany and Santana are muttering to each other in the corner, and as Mercedes says ten, things slow down very quickly. Brittany steps forward, first, and Blaine blinks. This wasn't part of the plan.
"We need to stop fighting," she says with confidence, "It's making the animals sad. And the sky and the trees and the ground and everything." Santana suddenly appears by Brittany's side, fiercely protective even against someone who used to be their friend.
"You're not so bad after all, new kid."
"Thank you?"
She patted him on the shoulder so hard he nearly spit out his drink. "Damn right. You're welcome."
He can't reconcile the two images of this girl who might not be as sharp as people like to think. Maybe this is what Rachel feels like all the time, like nothing is ever quite right. Like nothing ever matches up.
He doesn't want to fight them. The realization that he might have to comes like a drop of cold water down his spine, and he wishes suddenly that he could be anywhere but here.
Stalling will get you nowhere, Blaine. I want them out, breathes Sebastian in his mind, and Blaine feels so invaded right now. Sebastian can't hear his thoughts per se, but it's eerie how on target he is. When things slow down, they must speed up if time is to stay intact. And speed up they do.
Several things happen at once. Pay attention, now, because if you miss one moment you miss it all. First, he hears the crunch of a twig behind him. Next, he sees Puck warming up. And lastly, he notices Santana's eyes, gleaming with something wicked. Had these things happened separately, there wouldn't have been an issue. As things stand, however, Blaine is in a sticky situation. He needs to move. Luckily, he knows how to move, and fast.
Two steps left, duck, turn, backflip using extra force for maximum lift. Whip out a tube of ice water from his belt again, effectively taking Puck out of the equation for the most part. Four tubes remain. Blaine hopes they'll be enough. Puck's still in excellent physical shape though, so he won't be one to count out. Now roll to the right, and quickly, because he can sense Sam swooping downwards.
There are too many of them. He isn't sure how he's going to manage fighting all of them off.
He's going to fail; failure isn't an option. He runs back ten yards, only to be met with a smirking Santana. "Nice try, hobbit," she smirks. He curses under his breath and runs again.
"I can't do this by myself," breathes Blaine, knowing Sebastian can hear him.
Fight, says the other man calmly. You will fight them, and you will win. Check your belt.
Blaine looks down, and gapes. A shiny black pistol is sitting in a loop (and how hadn't he noticed before? He's an idiot, he really is, an idiot-), but it isn't just black, not really. The barrel is glowing red, particles flowing through it like electricity. The name comes to his mind unbidden: a ray gun. What kind, he doesn't know, but the make is expensive and he knows, immediately, that this could do some serious damage.
Don't just stare like an idiot; use it, snarls Sebastian.
And in that moment, things start to click. He has to defend himself in a way that will cause pain, or not defend himself and still cause pain. It's a catch-22 if he ever did see one, and he slips his finger to the trigger without really thinking about it.
He tugs it out of his belt loop fluidly, marveling at how balanced it feels in his hand. It's like it was made for him (and of course it was, you idiot, get yourself together).
Every one of them backs up but Puck. He's still steaming, water droplets evaporating on his skin, so he won't be able to put up much of a fight. Blaine's stomach pangs at his idiotic bravery.
"Well?" asks Puck loudly, throwing out his arms like some twisted parody of a hero, "You gonna shoot or what?"
"Leave and I won't have to," he blurts out, eyes panicked, feet twitching. He can't stop shaking. Standing still was never easy for Blaine.
Wrong answer, says Sebastian slyly. Four cries of pain erupt, one cutting above the rest, and Blaine is frozen, blood like ice in his veins. His hands are practically vibrating now, gun wavering enough to give his shot a thirty degree angle from where he would've wanted to aim in the first place.
Shoot, reminds Sebastian coolly, or it goes up to seven. Blaine shoots.
And misses by four feet.
Not good enough.
He knows.
...
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