Sebastian marvels at the room before him. Its – well – it's huge. He's not sure if he has a wide enough vocabulary to describe it as he takes a tentative step inside. Shelby had taken him upstairs after forcing him to drink something she called a protein shake. It left him with a vile taste that lingered persistently in his mouth but it had calmed his aching stomach so he wasn't complaining.

"This will be your bedroom," Shelby says behind him, reminding Sebastian that she's still there. He takes a look over his shoulder to see her smiling proudly. Sure enough there is a bed in the far left corner of the room but it's more than just a bedroom. There's a sofa and a shelves filled with various trinkets and trophies and countless other objects that Sebastian has no name for but a sudden intrigue to find out what they are. "Do you like it?" He turns to look at Shelby fully now. He needs to remind himself that he still can't trust her but it's difficult when everyone else is dead and she's offering him a room like this. It's then that Sebastian realises just how tired he is despite the number of conscious hours he's had in the last few days being shockingly little. The bed beckons him, its hugeness nothing like he's had before. "I know you don't trust me," Shelby says, sensing Sebastian's unease. "This room can be locked from the inside. You can keep me out as much as you want. You don't have to worry about me, I'm not your enemy. You and the others were my biggest achievement and you're the only one left. Why would I want to destroy you?" Sebastian says nothing, he doesn't see the point.

Shelby places a hand on Sebastian's arm, the gesture causing him to flinch as she pulls away.

"Sleep. Lock the door if it makes you feel more comfortable. I'll be downstairs. Come find me if there's anything you need or if you're hungry again or…" she trails off, Sebastian barely noticing as he takes another step inside the room now allegedly his. The door closes with a click behind him and Shelby is gone; he's alone. The silence is probably the most welcome thing right now. Sebastian lets out a sigh of relief upon the realisation that this is the first time he's been alone since everything. That night in the lab stays with him as fragments of memories, puzzle pieces that won't quite fit together. He remembers the burning, the intense heat, the pain – his body still aches from the incredible torture it had brought.

But how did he get here? The last thing he remembers is deciding to die, stepping towards the flames with a determination stronger than anything he'd felt before. Someone – a woman – had pulled him away…Sebastian stops as fragments of his memory come back to him. He remembers struggling before a needle was jabbed into him…then all of a sudden he woke in an unfamiliar, mahogany coated room, Shelby urging him to drink as she thrust a glass of water in his hand. So she injected him, Sebastian realises. He supposes there's not much else to remember, she saved him but he still can't understand why.

He knows it could be worse. Whether he trusts Shelby or not, the fact is that he's out of the lab and, well, he's alive. He can't know for sure what exactly this means for him, what Shelby's plan for him is, but he knows now that he's strong, strong enough to beat them, to tear down an entire building. The security is non-existent in this place and nothing stands in his way of leaving the moment he decides to. That thought offers him some comfort at least.

"Are you getting tired?" Blaine asks as Kurt yawns into his shoulder. They're nestled together on the sofa, watching a documentary about giraffes on the discovery channel. Well, Kurt is watching the television, Blaine is watching Kurt, loving his pure fascination at all things wild so he had noticed immediately when his eyes began to droop.

Kurt nods while trying to suppress another yawn.

"Come on," Blaine says switching off the television before rising to his feet and reaching his arms in front of him to stretch, "time for bed."

Kurt doesn't put up an argument as Blaine urges him to go get ready for bed. Once he's gone, he begins preparing his own bed for the night. Sighing, he resigns himself to another sleepless night on the sofa. Amongst constantly worrying about Kurt, and staying alert in case anything should happen, Blaine is seriously lacking in his sleep. On top of everything, the old, lumpy sofa does nothing to help either.

Just as he's set everything up and is ready to get changed, Kurt appears once more, looking strangely determined.

"Sleep with me tonight," he requests with unyielding conviction. Blaine chokes as Kurt stares him down. A surge of panic bolts through him. Has Kurt found those magazines that he had been meaning to throw out for months now? Kurt's nowhere near ready to be exposed to sex, yet here he is asking Blaine for….that.

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.

"Blaine?" Kurt asks, a little less sure of himself when Blaine hadn't replied.

"What?" Blaine says, his voice pitchy.

"You've been so good to me and I just want to take care of you," Kurt admits quietly, hands twisting together nervously. He's smiling now and Blaine isn't sure how to handle this. There's no way he could have prepared for something like this to happen.

"Kurt…this is a little…" Blaine tries. He knows he's blushing now.

"And it won't be uncomfortable for you, I promise."

"I – "

"But if you really don't want to then you can have the bed and I'll sleep out here."

"Kurt…Oh," Blaine says finally realising as his heart rate begins to return to normal though he can still feel it beating in his throat. "You mean you want me to just sleep. In bed. With you?" he asks slowly, cursing his mind for immediately going to where it did. He really probably should throw out those magazines.

"Well yeah," Kurt says, smiling uncertainly, "what did you think I meant?"

"Nothing!" Blaine is quick to answer, "Nothing at all! Just…yeah! Yeah that sounds great. I'd love to."

Kurt wakes from what was probably the most restful night's sleep he's ever had. Blaine's arms are wrapped snugly around him and he relishes in the warm comfort, feeling indescribably safe and home, nestling his head against Blaine's arm that's acting as a pillow. He doesn't remember how they came to be in this position. Kurt had lied as stiff as a board as he tried to get to sleep, his thoughts overcome with the fact that Blaine was right there and so close that he could feel his breath tickling against his shoulder.

He knows he needed to do this though. It had been becoming painfully obvious how much sleep Blaine was losing and after everything Blaine had done for him, how can he sit by and do nothing? He just wants to give something back. Watching Blaine now, seeing how he's sleeping so soundly, Kurt knows he did something right for once.

Maybe it was a little creepy but Kurt loves watching Blaine sleep. He's always so wrapped up in worry that it's nice to see him look so peaceful and relaxed. Kurt yawns, curling up further into Blaine's embrace as he feels Blaine's hold tighten around him while he stirs. Blaine mumbles something unintelligible in his sleep before pushing his head forward into the crook of Kurt's neck, pressing a subconscious kiss there that leaves tingles shooting down Kurt's spine after the touch is gone.

The heaven-like bliss is interrupted by a firm knock on the bedroom door.

"Blaine?" Wes' voice pierces through Kurt's hazy dream like state. "You in there?" Blaine jolts beside Kurt at the sound of his name as he slowly wakes.

"Yeah?" he mumbles, voice slurred by his drowsiness.

The door opens and a strip of light bolts into the room. Kurt clenches his eyes shut, burrowing himself into the covers to shield from the brightness that's all too much as the safety of Blaine's arms leaves him.

"Your Dad's on the phone," Wes says, entering the room and handing Blaine the phone, giving the two an odd look before he leaves them be. Blaine talks sleepily into the phone before forcing himself out of bed, leaving Kurt feeling instantly colder without him. Blaine mouths a quick 'be right back' before returning his attention to the phone call as he leaves the room.

Kurt tries in vain to get back to sleep but without Blaine the huge bed seems all too vacant.

Thankfully Blaine returns a short while later but his expression is grim.

"What's wrong?" Kurt inquires as he sits up in the bed, instantly recognising that something is different. "What did your dad want?"

Blaine stays quiet as he sits cross legged beside Kurt on the bed, leaning his head against Kurt's shoulder as he allows himself to breathe for a moment. Kurt waits patiently until he speaks.

"This is hard," Blaine says. Kurt's heart sinks, despite how he tries not to let the negative thoughts infect his mind.

"I'm sor-"

"No. Kurt, please stop apologising, none of this is your fault, okay?" Kurt nods as Blaine continues, "There was a meeting this morning," he explains, "My dad was there and he said that they're thinking of pressing charges against me."

"What does that mean?" Kurt asks as he tries to follow.

"It means that they want to blame me for the damages. I could get in serious trouble for this. I-I could go to jail, I'd be taken away from you, I – " Kurt can tell he's beginning to get frantic. He cuts him off by pulling him into his arms, wrapping himself around him the way Blaine had done for him countless times, knowing how much the simple gesture can help. He tries not to focus on the part where Blaine would be taken away, where he'd be left alone to fend for himself, he closes his eyes as he tries to focus on the positive, lulled by Blaine's panting against his shoulder.

"You said that they're thinking about pushing charges?" Kurt says slowly.

"Pressing," Blaine corrects, smiling faintly, "and yeah."

"But they haven't actually done it yet?" Blaine shakes his head. "Then we're okay for now."

"Yeah," Blaine says with a heavy sigh, "yeah, we're okay for now. My dad was defending me, saying I can't be to blame but he has no idea what they'll decide to do. I mean they kind of do have a case and if they find out that you're alive and that I took you then they'll definitely take action,"

"You didn't take me, you saved me. I'm not an object, I don't belong to them."

"I know, believe me, I do. Unfortunately they don't see it that way," Blaine says dejectedly, "but whatever happens, I promise I won't let anything bad happen to you, okay?"

"I know you won't," Kurt replies with a nod. He presses his lips to Blaine's in a quick kiss before rising from the bed and heading to the wardrobe so he can pick out something to wear for the day. Blaine has given him full access to his clothes, allowing him to choose what to wear for himself and Kurt has found that he enjoys the task in the mornings, choosing different combinations to try on, seeing what works and what doesn't.

Blaine watches from the bed as he sorts through the various clothes.

"We should go shopping today," he says. Kurt turns his attention away from the rack to see Blaine grinning from ear to ear. "As much as I love seeing you in my clothes, I'm sure you'd appreciate some of your own, right?"

"You mean…?" he asks slowly, Blaine shrugs.

"It's not raining today and you are looking so much better. Do you want to?"

"Of course!" Kurt cries as he rushes back to the bed and flings his arms around Blaine neck, embracing him tightly. Blaine laughs as he hugs back, the two of them lingering for a moment before Kurt finally pulls away. "Get dressed, we'll go after breakfast, okay?"

If Blaine didn't know any better, he'd say that Kurt was a natural at shopping for clothes. He just seems to know exactly what works well together, what colours mix the best.

"What do you think?" Kurt says, stepping out of the changing rooms in yet another outstanding outfit.

"Perfect," he comments, pressing a kiss to his nose, "everything you pick is perfect, I don't know how you do it,"

"Is it weird that I'm having this much fun?" Kurt asks as he twirls back into the changing room. Blaine wishes he could take him to some of the more famous store brands and introduce him to the top clothing lines but he knows his wallet would have a hard time forgiving him if he did. On top of that, those places are likely to be busy and Kurt is certainly not ready for that sort of commotion just yet.

They browse the shop floor. Kurt acts like he's found himself in wonderland as he picks through the clothes for sale. Blaine can tell this is good for him. He was never given the basic responsibility of choosing what to wear at the lab as his clothes were always there ready for him so he never really needed to think about it.

"Here." Kurt hands a chequered cardigan to Blaine. "I think this would look great on you," he suggests a little shyly. Blaine holds the garment in front of him, impressed at Kurt's judgement.

"I'll try it on," he promises.

By the time Sebastian wakes, it's late afternoon. He opens his eyes, bleary from sleep and forces his aching limbs to move though they feel like they are still burning.

Shelby must be downstairs and Sebastian doesn't think he can handle being in the same room as her right now, or anyone for that matter. He rubs at his head, causing his hair to stick up in every direction as he tries to will the pounding head ache to fade though the throbbing remains persistent.

He takes a moment to let his eyes wander his surroundings. He never really looked around before, determined to make it to the bed and the bed alone.

So hot, everything feels hot. Sebastian rips his shirt over his head in his haste and to his surprise finds his body wrapped in clean white bandages, a stark contrast to the blackened and bloody fragments of skin that's still visible.

He feels filthy and wonders if there is a shower he could use. There are several doors aside from the now locked one he had entered from. Choosing the one nearest, Sebastian wrenches it open and to his luck, the brightly lit room contains an elegant, pristine shower. Though the room is so bright he can't keep his eyes open fully, Sebastian feels his shoulders sag in relief, the thought of the warm water already taking over his mind. He scrambles to turn the water on, turning taps and dials almost frantically before a jet of water bursts from the shower head.

He removes the rest of his clothes and painstakingly peels away the bandages, revealing the rest of his dirty, bloodied skin. Biting his bottom lip, Sebastian represses the urge to whimper, refusing to show any signs of weakness even if his reflection is his only company. Hopping into the shower, Sebastian forgets his previous determination and yelps in pain as the hot water burns against his already scalded back, he finds the dial to turn down the temperature so it's just right and he can finally feel himself melting into the warm embrace of the shower.

There are no fresh clothes waiting for him when he can finally bring himself to leave the comforting safety of the water. Thankfully there is a towel which he wraps around himself just as the chill hits him. He shivers into it, wondering what he should do now. His dirty clothes remain on the floor but he can't bring himself to put them on again. They reek of the lab and the smell makes him gag, not to mention the fact that they are filthy.

Back in the bedroom, Sebastian searches for something – anything – he can wear and strikes gold when he pulls open the top drawer of the dresser. As he rummages greedily through the drawer, a small crash catches his attention. On top of the dresser, a photo frame lays face down where it had just fallen. Picking it up, Sebastian sees the face of a teenage boy so familiar he almost drops it again. But he doesn't know this boy, he's never seen him before in his life, he knows he hasn't, Sebastian can remember the face of every other person he's ever encountered with unimaginable ease and this face is not one of them. So then how? His confusions is interrupted as a shiver tears through his entire body, reminding Sebastian that he's still stood in nothing but a towel in a foreign room.

To Sebastian's surprise, everything is a perfect fit as he pulls the fresh cotton delicately over his wounds. The smell so fresh and clean that Sebastian lets out a short contented sigh at the sheer comfort it brings.

The room is beginning to get darker, this must be what Shelby had explained as night when she was telling him about the world he now lives him. He pulls open the curtains that had previously shielded him from the glaring sun to find that everything has indeed grown dark. He can't even begin to comprehend how this happened but he knows it must be incredible.

He thinks of Kurt, knowing he'd have loved this and the twang of guilt returns. He knows he's to blame for his death. There's no denying it and now his only companion is gone.

Downstairs Shelby sits in the kitchen, cradling a mug of something in her hands. Sebastian sits wordlessly opposite her.

"You showered," the woman comments, "and changed," her brows furrow when she notices the clothes but she says no more. Sebastian also says nothing since Shelby had already stated the obvious, he sees no point.

"Would you like a cup of hot chocolate?" she tries again to get some response from Sebastian. He raises his eyes slightly this time but still refuses to speak. He likes this muteness. Before, he'd always had something to say, some snide remark and witty comeback but he's finding that all too exhausting now. He decides the silence suits him. It's easy to be quiet. "Try it, you'll like it," Shelby says, handing him another mug. Sebastian wraps his hands around it feeling the warmth creep into his fingers while never taking his eyes away from Shelby.

He brings the drink to his lips, tasting experimentally. It's sweet, sickeningly so, and Sebastian doesn't care much for the taste but he drinks it anyway, conforming to whatever ideal Shelby seems to have in mind.