A.N. Yay! I technically uploaded a story in a month! Okay, so the story was only four chapters long but...it's done! I want to focus on Funny Games so I don't see myself uploading the sequel to this for a couple of months. I'm not too sad about it, though; these throwaway fics are fun to do occasionally and I've already got the whole plot worked out so it'll (hopefully) be a breeze to write. I'll write a short summery of the sequel in case you're interested. In the meantime, thanks for reading this story - you're awesome. :)

Chapter 4

The street was deserted and still, as you would expect for a quiet residential area of the city at nearly two-thirty am on a Thursday morning. The black sky was clear and the stars twinkled, surpassing the effects of the streetlamps dotting up and down the rows of houses. Without a sound, the door at number one-hundred and twelve opened and a dark figure slipped out.

Kurt had been waiting for his father to start snoring before he considered it safe to make his exit. A backpack warming his shoulder blade, he began his brisk walk down the sidewalk. He thanked the heavens that the night was not as chilly as it could have been in the middle of the night; his upper body was dressed only in a gym vest, his hooded shirt still folded up in his bag. It was his routine to change into his concealing attire once he was further off out of his home neighbourhood on the off chance someone recognised him and connected him to the blurry photos of 'The Shadow' on TV. No, he would change when it was safe to do so. Otherwise, he was dressed for the night ahead.

His head was still pounding from when he had come to realise the looming deadline he had set for himself was no longer in his reach. If he were to continue hitting banks at the rate he was, he would not have enough cash for the much-needed cancer treatment at the end of the month. This mean the window of opportunity which the hospital had given them would be closed and Burt would be placed back on the waiting list – right at the bottom. The constant interruptions made by Nightbird and Chameleon – and the lag in Kurt's plans which followed as a result – was the reason for his falling behind, but what else could he do? It was not like he could increase the amount he took, after all he was resolved not to let his goal impact on the lives of innocent people. That only left one option: he had to up his game by hitting a new place every night. It would mean running himself deep into the ground and the risk of him getting caught would sky rocket but he saw no alternative route.

There had been a moment Kurt questioned whether he should give in and have faith that something would turn up which would help their situation, but then the sudden memory of his father on the kitchen floor tore such ideas out of his head. He had to do it.

Snap!

Turning on his heel in a flash, Kurt eyed the street behind him. He heard something. He knew he did. He pushed himself against a nearby wall and let his tired-yet-hawk-like eyes roam the area. Nothing was out of place and the scene was as still as it had been before. He told himself off for getting jumpy, his rational mind accepting that an animal probably caused the noise he heard.

Pull yourself together, Kurt, you need to have your wits about you if you want to actually accomplish a heist tonight.

Though more self-assured, he still picked up the pace when he continued on. He walked for a further ten minutes until he reached the end of his district. He then took a sharp left to nestle between two fences. Concealed within the small gap which was barely big enough for one person to stand in, he unzipped his backpack and pulled out his shirt. A sense of liberated obscurity overcame him as he brought the hood up over his head and let it hide his face in a blanket of shadow. A deep intake of air later, he felt ready to act as his alter-ego. He hooked his bag over his shoulders and walked back out into the street-

-Only to be tackled straight back into the gap between the two fences. The blow to his mid section had taken him completely by surprise and the air in his chest was knocked out on impact. He fell back onto the ground. The object that hit him quickly took the shape of a person in his dazed eyes. They were big and heavy, which he discovered as they used their weight to pin him to the dirt. The space was too narrow to move much and Kurt's legs scrambled in what little room they had but he could do nothing. Was this a thug? Was he about to be mugged...or killed? Had he been venturing into this hidden hole to change clothes too often to go unnoticed? Kurt became aware that the person above him – a man – was not alone. Someone else stood as a silhouette at the entrance to their nook. Was this a gang attack?

'Quick-! Get him!' The man on top of him cried out in a youthful yet gruff voice. It was too dark to make anything out other than block masses. Kurt struggled against him but his wrists were grabbed and held above his head. He felt a second pair of hands run up his legs and he couldn't help but scream in panic as they drew up to his waist. Flashes of what could happen now snapped Kurt out of his stupor and straight into panic mode. The man above transferred Kurt's wrists to one hand in order to wrestle a cloth sack over his head, stifling his cries and now rendering him completely blind. The invisible hands at his waist peeled up his shirt to expose his navel.

'You need to hold him still or the needle will break – he's squirming too much,' Said a second voice. For some reason, though the sack and over his own yelling, Kurt felt like the second person sounded familiar. This did nothing to help his fear. The body on top bore down on him and the second person seemed to sit on his hips, stilling his erratic motions. 'That's perfect, keep him like that...'

A stinging sensation on his bare skin, just up from the waistband of his pants, brought Kurt into a whole new world of terror. What was going on? Someone had mentioned the word 'needle' – was he being drugged? Tears were spilling from Kurt's eyes.

I never should have got messed up in this. I shouldn't be out here. It's all my fault; this is what I get for doing what I did. Please, don't hurt me. If you're going to kill me, make it quick so my dad doesn't have to hear the gruesome details when I'm found. Please, just... Stop doing...I'm sorry for what I...

The boy's rapid breathing ceased dramatically in a matter of seconds. His eyes fell shut and his body stopped struggling, instead falling limp in the hands of the two men above him. The masked assailant who had been straddling his legs and who had administered the injection stood up and gave his partner a brief pat on the back. 'A taste of his own medicine,' He sighed and rubbed at his own stomach area gingerly, the memory of receiving such a drug from the Shadow a couple of weeks before now at the forefront of his mind. 'C'mon. He'll be out for hours but we'll have to get him back to our place, tied and secured, before I relax.'

Uh...What is that? Is that my head? Is that loud thumping sound the inside of my head? Oh my God, I think I might throw up if the world doesn't stop spinning. Wait...but everything's dark. Are- Are my eyes closed?

With a groan so uncharacteristically rough, Kurt stretched his neck to one side and tentatively opened his eyes. The soft glow of a few far-off reading lamps were like globes of warm yellow. Despite knowing they were gentle, Kurt squeezed his eyes shut again and cringed at the painful effects they still had on his vision.

'I told you he was coming round,' An excited voice somewhere above caught him off guard.

A second voice which was considerably calmer and more reserved followed. 'And I believed you. C'mon, step back. Give him some room.'

At opening his eyes once more, Kurt realised the true horror of his situation; he was in a strange place that, as it came into better view, looked more and more unfamiliar and foreign. The wall he had been facing was covered in posters of what Kurt could only assume were heavy metal bands he had never heard of, judging by the grungy men holding guitars and idiotic names that were either linked to or rhymed with 'death'. What kind of seventh hell is this place? He twisted on the mattress he found himself lying on and was alarmed to come face-to-face with a blonde male whose mouth, which was mere inches from Kurt's eyes, looked ready to gobble him up. 'Hey,' The blonde was smiling now and the mouth seemed far more kind and unthreatening as a result. 'Don't be scared, dude. Can you get up?'

Kurt blinked and stuttered nonsensical words in response. What was going on? He strained his memory for something – anything! – which would give some type of clue as to where he was. He recalled checking three times that his dad had taken his medication before putting him to bed. He could remember tugging on his sneakers in the hallway and slipping out into the street, making his way towards the little gap between fences where he usually changed into his hooded shirt. But...after that it was just a blur of rapid movement, panic and dizziness. He had been attacked. Suddenly the young man staring down at him seemed dangerous once more. 'Sam, I said give him room...' The blonde named Sam was pulled back by the second stranger in this apparent bedroom. Only, he was no stranger. Doctor Blaine Anderson came into view, dressed in a pair of slacks and a college sweatshirt. He considered Kurt with a concerned gaze. 'This must be a little overwhelming, I know. Are you in pain? I think you might have knocked your head pretty bad. I can get an ice pack.'

His words went more or less unheard as a striking notion of dread tore through Kurt's insides. His hand drifted up from his side to his face. Cool fingers shakily felt around his temples and his fears were realised; he was not wearing his mask. He staggered up onto his elbows and caught sight of his missing mask lying on a nearby nightstand.

They know who I am...

Tears formed in his eyes before he could comprehend why. His whole world was falling around him as it hit him that his secret was out. He was caught. His life was over and he was going to spend the rest of his life in jail and his poor father would suffer because of his own recklessness and stupidity. What had he been thinking? It was all his fault, and he knew it. He swallowed down hard but it proved to be difficult. The back of his head pounded and he couldn't help but wince. Blaine caught his pain and immediately moved forward to press a sealed bag of ice against the prominent lump hidden beneath his bed-hair. Kurt sniffed and turned away out of shame. He ignored the doctor's offer of some meds that would dull the ache. Instead, he took a few shaky breaths and asked 'Have you already called the police?'

The room fell silent. Kurt then turned his eyes up to the two other men – now making the connection that the blonde stranger was, in fact, the famous Chameleon – and found them to be surprised by his question. 'What makes you think we'd want the police to come here? We have our own secret to keep.' Blaine mused, thoughtful.

'Because I believe you guys know I wouldn't reveal who you are,' Kurt replied miserably, 'I'm not that kind of person. You know that.' Blaine sighed as Kurt glanced momentarily up at him. 'Or were you planning on taking me down to the station to hand me over directly?'

'We were kinda hoping it wouldn't come to that,' Sam sat down at the foot of the bed, causing Kurt to scoot his legs up as best he could despite the remaining effects of the drugs slowing his motions.

'What... What do you mean?' Kurt had reason to be wary. He was a good enough person not to try to take them down with him by blurting out who they were to the cops, and he knew in his heart that Blaine knew that. Their secret was safe. But Kurt had still broken the law several times, and the duty of Nightbird and Chameleon was to bring criminals like him to justice. He couldn't be a special case; that was not just.

Blaine moved a chair forward so that he was able to sit right by Kurt's side as the boy crawled up into the back corner and hugged his legs. The doctor's eyes on him were soft and caring. 'Let me help you. You said you only do what you do because you have no other choice, and normally when people say stuff like that it's bullshit, but for you...' He shook his head and sighed deeply. 'I believe you. You're in a hopeless situation with no one to turn to for help-'

'How can you help me?' Kurt didn't mean to sound so harsh but his defences were raising and his 'fight or flight' instinct was not doing much for his panic levels. 'It's not like you can just give me the money-

'My dad would agree.' Blaine interrupted in the most light-hearted, humoured tone. He glanced at Sam with a knowing grin before looking back to Kurt. 'He says that we can't help everyone and that trying to would just be meaningless drops in the charity ocean. And as much as I love and admire my father, Kurt, there is so much about him I can't respect.' His smile became less playful, and his honey-hazel eyes turned serious. 'I'm able to help you. You were right; I come from money. The treatment costs are nothing to me and I have some favours to cash in – it'll all be anonymous. It will all be legal. The cash you stole will find its way back to the banks they first came from and sooner or later the police will decide chasing after the Shadow is not worth their time.'

Dumbstruck, Kurt initially could not find the words to respond to such a ridiculous suggestion. 'I-I can't accept that...' He said with utter conviction and there was a hint in his tone which betrayed the fact he thought the two other men had gone temporarily insane.

'It's either that or be arrested, dude,' Sam shrugged, as if it was as simple as that. Perhaps it was that simple.

'But-But what about all those other people who are in my situation?' Kurt stuttered, his stare darting between the two heroes. 'How is that fair on them? You're making it out as if my circumstances are...special.' Guilt hit him hard.

A fond gaze set upon Blaine's face and he chuckled lightly under his breath as he reached out and gently took the boy's hand. 'Well, you are special.' He reasoned, 'By helping you, we finally bring an end to the harassment of bank safes all over the city. And by not handing you in we can make sure a guy, who's only 'sin' was wanting to save his father, stays out in the world where he can make a difference. You aren't a bad guy, Kurt. Not in your heart.'

The tears he had been holding back with great resilience could not be halted any further: Kurt felt himself weeping. Seconds later, completely unsure as to how he got there, he found himself deep in the embrace of the man who had been chasing him over the past month. And, without his mask and hood, Kurt had nothing to hide behind. He was just Kurt. And from the way Blaine's warm, strong hands rubbed up and down his back he figured Blaine was not complaining.

'Dad, stop reading. The nurses will be in any second to take you away and, believe it or not, you can't take that newspaper into surgery.'

Kurt reached out to steal the paper from his father's grip but the older man leaned away. 'I'm finishing off this story about the serial bank robber!' Burt cried, elbowing the grabby hands off him. He peered down at the article and let out a low whistle. 'I don't know what was going on. First he takes this weird amount of money from a bunch of places and then returns the cash – in full! – all in one night? What's this guy's game, huh? It's like he was just trying to prove he can outsmart security systems or something.' Kurt bit his bottom lip but otherwise remained passive. 'Probably gets some ego trip out of it.' Burt finished, folding up the newspaper and tossing it off to the side of his hospital bed.

'Probably,' Kurt breezed past the topic and fussed over his dad's sheets. 'So, you are completely prepped, right? Do you want to go to the bathroom one last time?' He paused, second guessing himself, 'Wait, are you allowed to use the bathroom? Crap, I wasn't listening when Dr Anderson was explaining it all – are you even allowed to be drinking water right now?'

Before Kurt could take the cup of water from his father's hands, Blaine sauntered in and calmly pulled Kurt away. 'Yes, he can use the bathroom and drink, Kurt, but thank you for nominating yourself for the part of 'unnecessarily worrisome family member',' Kurt swatted him, pouting. Blaine turned his smiling face to the patient. 'Burt, they're ready for you now.' As if on cue, three nurses entered and began stabilising Burt's bed wheels. 'We'll see you again in a few hours.'

For someone who was minutes away from undergoing a surgical procedure, Burt was incredibly blasé about it all. He hummed in mild interest, his mouth turning up ever so slightly as his eyes noticed the barely existing gap between his son and the young doctor. He had been young and prone to infatuation once; he recognised there was something there. 'It's funny, huh?' He commented airily, causing Kurt and Blaine to tilt their heads in question. 'I mean, when I was told I was chosen to be funded for a new and quick moving course of private treatment, I had no idea it would all happen this fast.' He cocked a brow at the dark haired man in the white coat. 'An anonymous benefactor, huh? I hope one day I'm able to thank them in person.'

Kurt narrowed his eyes, wondering what his dad was implying as he shuffled awkwardly back and forth on each foot. Blaine simply smiled as if it had just been a throwaway sentiment, wishing him luck as the nurses steered Burt out of the room and down the corridor to surgery. 'I'll see you soon, dad!' Kurt couldn't help but call anxiously. He wanted to go after him, to force the surgeon to let him be nearby – to hell with hygiene protocol! – but thankfully Blaine caught him by the hand and encouraged him to remain strong. Sighing, Kurt turned into him and let his forehead fall on the doctor's ever-available shoulder.

A few hours later, both would still be together when they heard the news the procedure was a roaring success.

Squeaking bedsprings and vague thumps as the headboard knocked sharply against the wall - Nightbird's bedroom was emitting sounds of a very suggestive nature.

Sheets were entangled in a sweaty mess between their legs. Hands were roaming and nails were scraping down over bare skin. Blaine gasped sharply as the lips running up his thigh gave way to a strong tongue which teasingly came to a mere half-inch from where he really wanted them to go. His hand dove down to try and steer Kurt's head back in the 'right' direction, but the boy giggled and struggled out of his grasp. They shoved against one another, each trying to gain the upper hand, but their bodies were so hot and wet they succeeded only in panting heavily into one another's mouth as their desire burned stronger. Surprising himself as the more vocal of the two, Blaine could not hold back the loud and glorious groan as his member was caught between Kurt's legs.

'Shh!' Kurt hushed him anxiously, trying not to laugh. He pressed a finger to Blaine's lips to stifle him. 'Do you want Sam to hear us?'

Thoroughly un-bothered by that prospect, Blaine shrugged. 'I suffered through years of having to listen to Sam and his long list of girlfriends,' He claimed, 'I think it's about time the tables turned.'

Kurt laughed and used this moment to catch his breath, leaning his head on Blaine's chest so he could gaze up at him. 'Well, I'm sure you'll catch up with Sam soon enough.' He licked his lips suggestively, 'After all, there's a lot of spare time between now and when I start back at college. And you know that even if I'm helping you two out on the streets, it won't be enough to rid me of all this pent up energy.'

'Is that so?' Blaine placed his forearms behind his head before issuing a small frown. 'Giving so much of yourself in bed and out on the streets... You know, I have a sneaking suspicion that you are only being available to me because of my money, family name and prestige. I think you're playing me like a fool.'

His eyes danced in playfulness but Kurt was already aware he was joking. Still, Kurt was not one to shy away from a game. He smirked and played along. 'Well, of course I am. Why else would I be attracted to you?' Blaine's eyes flashed and he shifted up to stare more closely into his eyes. 'And remember...I like my men unassuming,' Kurt flicked Blaine's nose with one long, slender finger, 'and weak. You're perfect for me.'

Blaine was quick to feign offence. 'Weak? Me? Well, now I am downright affronted, Mr Hummel. I am so much stronger than you.' And to prove his point, Blaine whipped his arms out from behind his head and grabbed Kurt's wrists tightly. He then wrestled him over onto his back and straddled his waist, pinning the smaller male's hands above his head. 'And you know I am,' he matched his smirk, leaning down close to ghost his mouth over Kurt's flushed-pink lips.

He was particularly proud of the turned-on blaze of attraction in the crystal blue eyes gazing back up at him. Kurt was definitely enjoying it. The boy carefully tested his restraints, finding Blaine's grip unwavering, before lying back on his boyfriend's bed. 'Oh? Need I remind you, Nightbird, of all the times you failed to catch me? I hate to break it to you but you are so easily overcome.'

The smug smile reminded Blaine of the time he had been drawn into vulnerability and then rendered powerless after being injected. He hummed and sat back on Kurt's hips. 'That reminds me,' He let go of Kurt's hands and began rubbing the boy's bare chest sensually, 'What exactly was in that needle of yours? Please tell me it was sterilised.' He was a doctor, after all. He had to care about stuff like that.

Kurt moaned quietly, momentarily lost in pleasure as his lover's fingertips tampered with his shy nipples. He stretched out, his smirk widening. 'You mean the one that knocked you out like a little kitten?' He teased, 'Don't worry, it was clean. It was my own mix. I used to take it when I was a teenager to help me sleep.'

Blaine tutted at him and brought his hands up to gently grasp at his boyfriend's perfectly creamy neck. 'Such a bad boy, you are. As a doctor, there's no way I can condone such an unprofessional and experimental concoction. I'm afraid I'll have to confiscate all you have left. You can't be trusted.' His voice was thick and brimming with desire as he was drawn into a kiss.

When they broke apart, Kurt's eyes were still closed and his mind still partially lost in their closeness. 'Whatever you say, doctor. I have one dose in my bag. I keep it close to hand in case another jumped-up hero tries to take me down.'

Together they laughed, merging their grins into sweet kisses on the mouth and along the jaw line. 'I don't want you to worry about that happening,' Blaine spoke softly against his lips, his hand coming up to ease through Kurt's brown locks, 'You have me to look after you now. I'll keep you safe.'

'I know,' Kurt replied, his voice barely above a whisper. For many moments, they gazed at one another. Fingers rubbed circles on bare skin. Their naked frames melted together and fit like a perfect jigsaw. At long last, Kurt broke out into a mischievous giggle. 'I've got a better idea on how to use my sleeping serum,' he murmured, his lips turning up slightly.

'Oh? How?' Blaine asked, loving how naughty Kurt looked like now.

Without warning, Kurt slipped his legs out from under him and managed to flip them over so that he was once again on top. He nestled down on Blaine's hips and his wandering hands strolled down to capture his hardening cock. Blaine became breathless again and his eyes eager for more. The younger man then slowly leaned forward to whisper 'We slip it to Sam.'

Not expecting that at all – and admittedly irked that in a moment of sexual arousal Kurt had dared mention his clueless roommate – Blaine grew confused. 'Uh, why?'

With a sly smile, Kurt angled his hips and bore down on Blaine's erection with a grinding motion. Stars and flashes of pleasurable white took over Blaine's vision. Kurt's hand knotted the tip of his head which brought Blaine to an extreme edge in a matter of seconds. A thick and audible cry of ecstasy tore through his throat – something which Kurt took great pleasure in stifling with his hand. The boy then brought his lips down to his exposed ear. 'So we can be as loud as the hell we want.'

Unable to take any more playing around, Blaine released an animalistic growl and ferociously tackled Kurt up against the bedposts so he could finally claim his prize.

Sequel Summery: A real and very dangerous villain comes to town - coincidently at the same time Blaine's old schoolmate returns to the city. The newly formed trio of heroes think it just another bad guy to bust but their confidence is short lived when one of them is kidnapped and held ransom – but is that all there is to it? WARNINGS: Mental & emotional torture, brainwashing, violence, both consensual and non-consensual sex.