A/N I know you all were expecting an update for The Final Bite this past week, but between some computer issues and a minor case of writer's block, I didn't get it finished. I've also been working on a new script. Well, not exactly new. I originally wrote it as a play, but I decided to rework it as a Movie script. BTW, if anyone is or knows a composer/lyricist (it's a musical) who would like to collaborate, let me know!

Anyway, I decided that while I work out my issues on my other stories, I'd work on this chapter. You'll get a few hints of who might be hiding under those hoods in this chapter. Sorry it's a little short! I'm thinking we have two, maybe three more chapters left on this story.

Reviews are always welcome!

…

Trapped

No one would ever call Finn Hudson an observant person. Most of the time he had to have things explained to him. But even he noticed something seemed off about his stepbrother after the competition. He saw the dark haired boy drag him away from their friends. That seemed suspicious to him, and he would have followed them, but Rachel called him back to the green room for warm ups and show circle.

He didn't think about it while they were performing, other to notice that Kurt slipped into the auditorium about halfway through their second song. He was alone, and looked a little rumpled, something he never thought he'd say about the fastidious boy.

Was the other boy Kurt's boyfriend? Had they sneaked off to make out? He cut his thoughts off there, not wanting to imagine his stepbrother kissing another boy.

After they finished their set and the competitors mingled backstage while they waited for the results, he and the rest of the kids from New Directions tried to talk with their former teammate, but his responses seemed kind of clipped and restrained. Finn noticed the older teen's eyes seemed wrong somehow, but he couldn't figure out why.

"So Kurt," he asked, "Do you want to ride home with me after the competition? Burt really wanted to come today, but the garage has been busy since they still haven't fixed all those potholes over on 9th street."

Kurt looked confused for a moment. "Oh, uh. I'm not coming home this weekend. Didn't I call dad and tell him that? I thought for sure I had."

Finn frowned. That definitely didn't sound like Kurt. His stepbrother worried about Burt like a new mom fusses over their first child. He would have called Burt a dozen times to check up on him and remind him if there was a change in plans. And since when has Kurt ever been confused about anything? Finn was the confused one, not the auburn haired boy.

Something was definitely not right.

…

With no hood to hide behind, The Master sat in the darkest corner of the auditorium, watching the curly haired man standing to the side of the stage speaking to the superintendent of schools. Will Schuester had been a thorn in his side for years, and had ruined his life.

The Master smiled to himself. Using one of Schue's little pets to exact his revenge was almost poetic justice. The Hummel boy would be the key to destroying his nemesis, and bring him the wealth to live the lifestyle he should have been living for the last thirty years.

His cell phone signaled an incoming text. It was from the client.

It's a go for Monday. Target is Jeremiah Mathewson, grandson of Senator Mathewson.

He smiled. Yes, everything was going as planned.

…

The Overseer carried Blaine's unconscious body into computer lab one, and lay him down on the table. He brushed the hood of his robe back, his medium brown hair coated with sweat from his exertions. He was about the same age as the boy on the table, tall and lean.

"Damn it, why did you have to interfere?" He growled at the boy, his green eyes flashing with his anger. "You were supposed to be my reward! My prize for perfecting the Masters' conditioning techniques. But now you've nearly ruined everything! And for what, that Hummel kid? He's nothing! A mindless robot now, a tool for the Masters to wield!"

He began to strap the boy down on the steel table as Blaine began to show signs of coming to. "Unfortunately now, I must punish you for your disloyalty."

…

Kurt felt ill. Everything inside him wanted to fight against what was happening, wanted to somehow break free of the stupor he was in, and ask his friends for help, but he was trapped inside his own mind. Couldn't they see that something was wrong? Couldn't they tell that this wasn't him? Did they not realize what was happening? Or did they just not care?

And now Wes was standing beside him, pulling him away from his friends with some excuse about wanting to talk about something or other. He was lead into the green room. The door was closed. Nick and Jeff were there. Nick held out Kurt's cellphone.

"Call your dad," Wes instructed. "Tell him that you have too much homework to finish up, and that you can't come home this weekend after all.

Kurt obeyed. A single tear slipped from his eyes as he lied to his dad, the one person who he could count on since his mother's death. Surely Burt Hummel would realize something wasn't right.

…

Burt Hummel was distracted. The garage had been doing huge business the past week, mostly front end alignments, thanks to some pretty severe potholes in town. And then some punk had gone around putting water and other crap into people's gas tanks, so he'd had several emergency calls over the last 48 hours as well.

He was in the middle of flushing the lines of '86 Thunderbird when his cell phone rang. He almost let it go to voicemail, but remembered Kurt and Finn's competition, and figured it most be over, and one or the other was calling to gloat about winning, or whine about losing. He pulled the device from his pocket and answered it, just as another customer rang the bell for service.

"Kurt?" He said as he made his way into the lobby area.

"Hi dad," his boy said.

"So, did you win or what?" He said, smiling at the gentleman at the counter.

"We're still waiting for the results." His son sounded kind of strange, not his usual snarky self.

"Well, what's up, Kiddo? The garage is pretty busy right now." He handed the customer a form to fill in as he spoke. Covering the phone, he smiled again. "Sorry, my son. He's at a competition today."

The other man nodded in return, a knowing smile on his face as he began to fill out the form.

"Listen, dad, I'm sorry, but I can't come home this weekend after all. I have a ton of homework to catch up on."

"What? Kurt you promised you'd be home today. I was kind of hoping you'd help me out here at the garage. Finn is a good kid, but he doesn't know a lug-nut from a hole in the head!"

"I know, I'm so sorry. I'd trade my Hermes scarf to help you out, but between Warbler's rehearsals and those headaches last week, I really need to catch up on my class work."

Burt frowned. He knew exactly which scarf Kurt was talking about. It had been his Mother's, and she had given it to him just before she passed away. Kurt would never give it up. Something didn't sound right.

"You okay, kid? You aren't sounding like yourself."

"I'll be fine, Dad. I gotta go, they're calling us on stage for the results. Love you, Dad!" He sounded kind of sad.

"Love you, too, Kurt. Just promise me you'll come home soon. I miss you nagging at me."

"I promise, dad. Bye."

Burt ended the call, and stood there staring at the phone for a moment. Something wasn't right. Kurt hadn't even made a remark about taking care of himself. The boy had been fussing at him pretty much nonstop since he'd gotten out of the hospital after the heart attack. And mentioning his Mother's scarf? He'd never even joke about giving it away. Burt knew the item in question was wrapped around a bottle of Elizabeth's perfume and hidden away in the bottom drawer of the old vanity stored up in the attic.

Something was definitely bothering his son. Maybe he'd have to make a trip up to Dalton sometime in the next couple days just to check on the boy. He turned back to the customer, taking his keys and getting his info. Before he'd even finished with the gentleman, two more customers came in.

He hoped he could find the time to go and see Kurt. Maybe he needed to hire a few more mechanics to help out, at least until they fixed those damn potholes.

…

Blaine woke slowly, disoriented and confused. He remained motionless when he heard someone ranting near by as they moved around the room. It took him a moment to realize where he was. Computer lab 1. How had he gotten here? The last thing he remembered was the competition. They'd finished their set, and then he'd tried to escape with Kurt. And Kurt had kissed him!

And then Kurt had drugged him. Blaine wanted to cry. The beautiful boy had succumbed to the conditioning.

He suddenly became aware of the other person in the room again. He realized the voice must belong to the Overseer, but it wasn't distorted by drugs or electronics now. He had never heard the Overseer's voice without the distortion before, but it sounded familiar. He knew that voice from somewhere.

He tried to think, but he must have given away the fact that he wasn't fully unconscious anymore, because the Overseer began strapping him to the table before he could move. He was terrified when he heard the Overseer saying he would be punished, but before the panic could fully set in, he felt the familiar rush of Oxytocin and endorphins.