Title: Traitor
Rating: Mature/NC17
Characters: Sebastian, Warblers, Kurt
Summary: How was Sebastian able to convince the Warblers that Kurt and the New Directions were the bad guys? And what does he do when his carefully planned scheme fails?
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; I don't own the characters, just the story.
Warnings: spoilers for Michael, violence, minor language
Author's Notes: there is a scene of explicit violence at the end of the story; please take care when reading.
While Sebastian had known that he would be able to come up with a cunning scheme, he really hadn't expected it to be so easy. Kind-hearted Blaine was far too trusting for his own good, and it had only taken a simple call lamenting the possible ruin of Sebastian's Dalton jacket to get Blaine to open up a bit. Sebastian feigned interest and gratitude as Blaine pattered on about club soda and stain remover; before long, they were discussing Regionals, where Blaine oh-so-helpfully mentioned that he and Kurt were so psyched about working on Michael Jackson numbers.
Armed with this new information - as well as a few other tidbits from he and Blaine's various Skype chats and instant messaging conversations - Sebastian put his plan into action.
"So, are you saying that if we don't Slushie them first - they'll get us?"
Sebastian turned to look at Montgomery, a junior and new-comer to the school.
"That's exactly what I'm saying," Sebastian replied coolly.
"And Blaine just… offered… this information to you?" asked Jeff, a second-year Warbler with bleach-blonde hair and a skeptical look in his eyes.
"More like rubbed it in my face," Sebastian corrected, aiming a level glare. "I believe his exact words were, 'I hope you like guys like cherry, because it's going to be your official glee club flavor when we're done with you.'"
Several of the singers gasped, and suddenly it seemed as if everyone was talking. Sebastian could tell some of them - mostly the newer kids who hadn't been around or part of glee club when Blaine was their golden child - were cursing Blaine's name. The older members were shaking their heads and talking in hushed whispers. It was finally Trent who raised his hand, prompting the other Warblers to hush.
"Sebastian, I would like to think I know Blaine quite well, and this doesn't sound like something he'd do or say."
Sebastian took an exaggerated breath and rolls his eyes. "Seriously?" he asked, pointing at Trent with the handle of the gavel he'd been twirling for the duration of their meeting. "You think you know Blaine?"
"I should say so," Trent replied, refusing to be intimated. "We transferred to Dalton around the same time, and he was the one who encouraged me to audition for the Warblers." At Sebastian's bored look, the boy pushed on: "The Blaine I know has always been kind, supportive and selfless. He would never say those things."
Sebastian began to clap slowly, the sound loud and jarring. The Warblers looked from one to another before turning to stare at boy sitting at the edge of the desk that once served as the place the Council sat and ruled. Sebastian kept them on their toes, and not always in the best way. It was hard to tell where he was coming from a lot of the time, and he often behaved in a way that seemed inappropriate for the setting. There seemed to be no reason for applause, yet that was just what Sebastian was doing, and it was making the other Warblers nervous.
"Are you done with your little speech?" Sebastian asked.
Trent nodded dumbly, feeling his face flush.
Sebastian jumped off his perch and began pacing the room. When he spoke, his voice was loud and clear, and it commanded the attention of everyone in attendance.
"The first thing you need to understand is that the Blaine you think you know is instead the Blaine you knew; your Warbler is a Warbler no more. I've spoken with him on several occasions in the last few weeks, and I have to say: I don't see what you all saw in him. He's self-absorbed, dismissive and just mean."
The group began to murmur, and Sebastian quickly cut them off. "Now, I've heard from several of you that Blaine is among the nicest people you've ever known. I believe that might have been the case at one time," he admitted. "But you have to understand that there is another force at play here."
Sebastian stood in the center of the room and turned a few steps until he found who he was looking for. "Warbler David," he started, leaning against a sofa arm and smiling at the senior's raised eyebrow. "Do you remember the first time you met Kurt Hummel?"
The Warbler seemed taken aback by the question, but he nodded. "Yes."
"What were the circumstances surrounding your acquaintance?"
David gulped and looked around the room, meeting the eyes of his fellow Warblers. "He was… well, he was spying on us. And he was doing a terrible job of it, I might add."
Trent, Nick, Thad and a few of the others who knew the story ducked their heads and chuckled while those who didn't scooted forward to hear the tale.
"We confronted in the lounge," David continued. He laughed a little recalling, "He thought we were going to beat him up." He looked up expecting to see Sebastian sharing his smile, but the other boy had a cold, hard look on his face. "Kurt admitted that he'd been sent by his school, but we could tell that there was something… that there was something else at play. He hadn't really tried to blend in, and rather than sticking around here to watch us, he wandered around the school.
"I didn't get to talk to him too much then; Blaine sent Warbler Wes and I away when it looked like Kurt was getting emotional. He told us later that Kurt was being bullied at his school for being gay."
"And let me guess," Sebastian cut in. "Blaine suggested that Kurt transfer to Dalton."
"Well, yes. Kurt was being bullied terribly. One of the bullies even threatened to kill him!"
"Is that so? Now, let me make sure I understand: Kurt came to Dalton to spy. He claimed to have been bullied. He came here, befriended Blaine, and then… well, what happened then? Where's Kurt now?"
"He's at McKinley - you know that."
Sebastian smiled. "He's at McKinley," he repeated slowly, allowing each word to sink in. He heaved himself up and began to pace, loudly proclaiming, "He came here, did his time, and then went back to McKinley. You don't find that a little… odd?"
"What are suggesting?" David hissed.
"What I am suggesting is Kurt fooled you all. He came here just like he was supposed to, and he told you his sad, pathetic story about the big, bad bullies. Once you accepted him, he made his move on Blaine. He knew that Blaine was the heart and soul of the Warblers, and he knew that if he played his cards right, he could lure him away. And guess what? That's exactly what he did.
"Kurt Hummel is not the sweet, innocent person that you think he is. You mean to tell me that he left the school where someone threatened to kill him, only to go back just a few months later? Let me guess… the bully saw the errors of his way and made his amends, right? McKinley - the place where poor Kurt couldn't stand to be at because everyone made his life hell - was suddenly the perfect place to be; but of course, not until after he was done seducing Blaine.
"Now, Blaine is at McKinley, too. The man you call selfless and kind is now the enemy. He's aligned himself with McKinley's glee club, and he told me just last night that he intends to throw a slushied drink in each of our faces when he and his team beat us at Regionals.
"So now you tell me," Sebastian requested, making his way to the front of the room and turning so he could meet the eyes of every Warbler before him. "If that doesn't sound like something good ole' Blaine would say - who might have put those ideas in his head?"
Sebastian raked his eyes over the faces staring back at him, and he had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from smiling - he'd won. He could tell by the looks in their eyes that he'd convinced them that Kurt was the one responsible for brainwashing Blaine, for stealing him away and turning him against his friends.
Kurt Hummel had been Sebastian's enemy from the moment they'd met, and now he was the enemy of every Warbler as well.
Trent held a wet paper towel over his face, silently hoping it would help with the headache he was battling. When the sheet got warm, he dropped it back into the sink and hung his head. The Warblers meeting had not gone the way he had expected. Nothing made sense; not that Blaine was a sell-out who didn't care about his friends nor that Kurt had orchestrated this huge plot to steal Blaine away. Yet, Sebastian's remarks had been quite compelling.
The Warblers were now out for blood. After hearing that the New Directions intended to have them drenched in a cold concoction of sugar and water, a plan had been formulated to nail them first. But not all of them; no, Sebastian had been clear that there was only one person they needed to take down, and if they could accomplish that, it would be a staggering blow.
Trent knew in his heart that there was no way that Kurt - or any of the New Directions for that matter - would ever stoop so low as to throw a Slushie in anyone's face. He knew that the drinks were used as to humiliate Kurt and his friends, so why would they use them to humiliate anyone else?
It seemed to Trent that Sebastian was harboring a personal vendetta against Kurt, but he had no way to prove it. Kurt and Sebastian never went to the same school - Kurt having come and left Dalton while Sebastian was studying in Europe, and Sebastian had never attended public school in his life - so there was no reason they should even know each other. The only connection was Blaine, and it was a weak connection at that since Sebastian didn't really know Blaine, either.
Trent's thoughts were interrupted by the restroom door opening. He glanced up and caught Warbler Jon's eye in the mirror. Jon looked over his shoulder and nodded, then he and Warbler Nick entered, letting the door close quietly behind them.
"What's up?" Jon asked, he and Nick moving to stand behind Trent.
Trent closed his eyes and gathered his courage. He knew that he had nothing to be scared of, yet he couldn't help the way his breath stuttered a bit as he turned to face two of his closest friends.
"I think Sebastian is wrong," he finally uttered, watching as Jon's eyebrows rose and Nick looked off to the side to avoid eye contact. "Come on - we all know Blaine, and we know Kurt. None of this makes sense."
Jon shook his head and scratched at his chin. "You don't know what you're talking about," he said. "I think it's actually all starting to make sense right now - every last bit of it."
Trent turned hopeful eyes to Nick. "What do you think?"
Nick shrugged and looked between Trent and Jon. "I… I don't know," he admitted. "I thought I knew the whole story about Kurt, but I'm not so sure anymore. Kurt coming to Dalton just to go back to the people who were bullying him does sound suspicious. And Blaine… we've seen him, like, twice since he left."
"He's at a new school now," Trent tried to explain. "It's an hour and a half away."
"He didn't mind driving to see Kurt when he was boarding here," Nick pointed out.
"That's different. Kurt is his boyfriend, and we're-"
"Just the guys he's screwing over?" Jon offered. "Look, when Blaine was here, he was one of us. Now that he's there, he's one of them. I don't know how much of a part Kurt played in it - though it's starting to look like a lot - but that doesn't matter. What matters is that Blaine screwed up and told Sebastian their plan. Now, we're going to throw it back in their face - literally."
"That's the thing, though," Trent argued. "Do you remember when we went to Regionals last year? We saw the New Directions perform. Their last song was about standing up to bullies-"
"And they brought out the fake Slushie machine so they could get their kicks by throwing "drinks" at the crowd. What's your point?" It was clear Jon was getting annoyed, and Trent realized that his hopes of convincing his team mates that the New Directions weren't what Sebastian claimed them to be was going in the wrong direction.
"No… well, yes… but, I mean, it wasn't…. not for the crowd, it was…"
Suddenly, the door creaked open behind them opened. The three jumped, not expecting anyone to be using the out-of-the-way facility. They turned to find Sebastian leaning against the frame.
"Hey guys," Sebastian greeted, a wide, put-upon smile on his face and fake cheerfulness in his voice. "What's going on?"
"Sebastian," Trent all but squeaked. "What are you… what are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing," he replied, fully entering the bathroom. His huge grin dropped when the door closed, and he leaned against it, blocking their way out. Even though Jon could easily push him aside, the larger boy took half a step back.
"We were just talking about Blaine and Kurt," Trent offered.
Sebastian nodded and turned to Jon, silently giving him permission to speak.
"Yeah," the boy agreed. "Trent was just reminding us that the New Directions brought a Slushie machine on stage at Regionals last year. It was fake, but they filled cups and threw confetti out into the audience."
A surprised look crossed Sebastian's face, and he looked towards Trent and Nick. "Now, did they?" he asked, glancing at Nick.
Nick nodded vigorously, unable to tear his eyes away from Sebastian's piercing gaze. "Yes, we were all there."
Sebastian moved away from the door and weaseled his way between the group of boys to stand in front of a sink. He turned on the water, dispensed some soap into his hands and began rubbing up a lather.
"It would seem that throwing Slushies are part of their MO then, wouldn't it? I wonder, did Kurt ever tell you any stories about Slushie attacks in the hallways of McKinley?" He turned the water off and met their eyes in the mirror. "Did he ever tell you about how he was the one throwing them?"
Jon's eyes flashed, and he glared at Trent; any doubt he'd had about Kurt's motives were gone. He felt stupid. He felt as if he'd been taken for a ride. All along, Kurt had been playing them, and they were blind to it. They'd trusted him, and he'd betrayed them.
"We're due in Lima in two hours," Sebastian announced, regaining everyone's attention. "We'll fetch Kurt's refreshment on the way there. When we get to the garage, I want it hidden until we've mopped the floor with them. I get the honor of giving Kurt his just deserts, but I want you three by my side so that he knows that we've figured him out. After today, Kurt Hummel will know exactly what we think of him."
The ride to Lima was filled with tension, at least in one vehicle. Sebastian wasn't sure whose van he was in, but he'd especially requested that Trent take shot gun while Nick and another senior took center. He sat in the back with Jon, and he spoke in a hushed tone.
"I'm going to send Trent in to buy the Slushie. After that, I want you to make sure he doesn't touch it again, understand?"
Jon glanced at Sebastian then up at Trent, but nodded despite his confusion.
They pulled into a convenience store just down the street from the parking garage they were to meet the New Directions. Sebastian sent Trent in for the drink, careful to ensure that the boy brought back a red one; the thought of Kurt's pale skin and fancy clothes stained pink sent Sebastian's heart aflutter.
When the drink was passed back to him and the van moving again, Sebastian checked that everyone in front of him had eyes forward. He pulled out a bag that he'd stashed in his satchel. Jon watched with wide eyes as Sebastian poured coarse, white crystals into the drink, stirring them with the drink's straw until everything blended seamlessly. Sebastian shrugged at Jon's unasked question.
"Salt," he explained. "It's going to sting like a bitch."
Sebastian's sole focus had been on Kurt's pretentious little face, so when a blur passed in front of him just as he'd thrown the Slushie, he'd had no idea what had happened. There was suddenly yelling - screaming, really - and Sebastian stared down to see that Blaine was covered in Slushie while Kurt had nary a drop on him.
Blaine was covering his eyes and sobbing, and Sebastian turned away with a grimace, signaling that the others should follow. He bumped into Trent, and the boy grabbed his shoulder as if trying to keep him from leaving. He pushed forward, though, and the Warbler followed, as did the others.
Sebastian didn't turn back, so he never noticed the looks that passed between the boys behind him or how some of them kept looking back at Blaine and his friends.
He'd expected the ride back to Dalton to be wild and excited, but found that the uneasiness was worse than when they'd left. Trent and Nick had tried to climb into another Warbler's van, but he'd called them back; the last thing he needed after the failed Slushie attack was these two turning ranks.
Trent once again sat in the passenger's seat while Nick and Jon changed positions. Sebastian wanted as little contact between who he considered his two weakest links - Trent and Nick - until they got back to Dalton. There was going to be hell to pay for what had happened to Blaine, and Sebastian needed to think.
As he'd expected, the New Directions - or rather, the bitchy, dark-haired broad called Santana - contacted him. She was going to be at Dalton in 30 minutes she told him, and she wanted to talk.
Sebastian sent Nick to the corner store down the street while he called as many of the others as he could and told them to meet him at Johnson Auditorium. When Santana showed, she immediately launched into a fit about Blaine's injuries. Sebastian tried to keep a calm, uninterested composure, but Trent - who flanked him on the left - panicked. A glare and an "I've got this" put Trent back in his place, and Sebastian could only hope that the others would not react.
When Santana started asking about what was added to the Slushie, Sebastian congratulated himself on the foresight to not contact Jon for this little get-together; he was the only one who knew that the drink had been tampered with, and he wasn't around to say a word. Sebastian lied easily knowing he had no one to worry about, but Santana called him out on it just as quickly.
Their duel was over in no time, and as he'd arranged, Nick and Trent stepped in with a Slushie as soon as the music stopped. The boys didn't appear nervous, but Sebastian expected that they wouldn't considering the fact they truly believed the Slushie they'd retrieved was meant as a peace offering.
Sebastian caught a tiny glimpse of the shocked realization on Trent's face as he took the Slushie from his hand, and it was with a genuine, wicked smile that he hurled the drink into Santana's face.
Sebastian liked to think he was good at hiding his emotions and conveying a look of nonchalance, but he knew he had to look as panicked at he felt when Santana pulled the tiny cassette from her pocket. He had a second to think she was bluffing, but quickly realized she had no reason to. He watched warily as the tape was passed to Kurt, and he wanted so badly to jump on that stage and tear the hard plastic from the boy's hand. He didn't have to, though; Kurt - laidback, haughty, noble Kurt - tossed the cassette and smiled as it dropped into Sebastian's outstretched hand.
The boy in the wheelchair ordered him out of the auditorium, and Sebastian stood, waiting to see who would follow. The Warblers on stage held their ground, and Sebastian met each of their eyes with a sneer. Jon had his arms crossed and was staring Sebastian down; the disgraced Warbler nearly laughed at the other's predictability. Jon was nothing more than a follower - a mindless drone who jumped when told to. Next to him, another drone, Nick, was shifting from foot to foot and avoiding eye contact.
Sebastian didn't see anything in the faces of his team mates that he didn't think he could fix. All he needed to do was do a little fast-talking and convince them again that he was not the enemy, but rather Kurt and his band of pathetic losers. Sebastian would put on an act of sincere regret over his part in Blaine's injury, but he would remind the Warblers that it was Kurt's influence - Kurt's brainwashing - that put Blaine in harm's way more so than Sebastian's aim.
When he caught Trent's eye, Sebastian fumed. The boy gave him a dismissive glance before looking away, and Sebastian knew that if there were going to be any problems in getting the Warblers back on track, it was going to be because of this one.
Kurt knew the smile he wore bordered on devilish, but it felt so good to finally see Sebastian knocked down a bit. He watched as the boy stood, fixed his jacket and gave a small smile before walking out. When the boy was gone, Kurt felt most of the adrenaline leave him, and his shoulders slumped slightly. He didn't realize that he was staring at the ground until a hand touched his elbow.
He looked up and met Santana's surprisingly concerned eyes. Someone cleared their throat, and he turned to realize that - oh my! - there was still a troupe of Warblers behind him. Part of him wanted to run and hug them, thank them for having his back; another part of him - the part that had his hands shaking and his heart thumping wildly - reminded him that these were the very same people who had conspired to throw a tainted Slushie in his face. They were the ones who had planned and acted out a scheme to hurt him, but resulted in harming his Blaine instead.
No one said a word, but Kurt could feel all eyes on him. He knew he was expected to say something, to either forgive or condemn these men, but he couldn't find the words. Finn saved him in the end, draping his arm around Kurt's shoulders and telling the Warblers, "I'm sure you guys can figure your way out." Then Kurt was being led away, Finn on one side and Santana on the other, while the rest of his team mates - his friends - trailed behind.
Sebastian had tried for 15 minutes to get the crowd of Warblers seated and quiet, but his efforts went unrewarded. It would seem that forgoing his usual shortcut and allowing Trent to speak his piece before he'd arrived had proved to be a near-fatal blow to his plans. The Warblers were up in arms; the ones who had known Kurt last year, the ones who had sat by his side in class and stood at his shoulder at practice, were staunchly defending their friend against the newer members who only knew the account of the spy who killed the Warbler's treasured mascot and stole away their best singer.
Sebastian was shocked when it was Trent - the thorn in his side - who was able to quiet the group.
"This is entirely your fault," he accused, pointing a finger at Sebastian. "Blaine was our friend, Kurt was our friend. They were the kind who would-"
"Turn their backs?" someone yelled from the back, prompting the group to argue anew.
"-do anything to help someone in need!" Trent hollered, shocking every last voice into silence. "And you," he hissed, standing close to Sebastian. "You turned us against them for no reason. Despite what you might think, you don't know Blaine or Kurt. You don't know what they've gone through - what they still might go through."
"And you do?" Sebastian asked with an air of boredom.
Trent could feel his face burning, and he had to restrain himself from jumping the infuriating boy in front of him, from pulling his fist back and showing Sebastian just what we truly thought of him.
"As a matter of fact, I do." Trent turned back to face his fellow singers. "Gentleman, Sebastian has been lying to us."
Calling a fellow Warbler a liar was a serious offense, and while the group of them might normally jump up to argue any other point, they found themselves hesitant to associate with such a charge.
"Kurt is not the evil monster that Sebastian would have you believe he is," Trent continued. "I know this, not only because I had the pleasure of sharing a class and Warbler practice with Kurt last year, but because I knew him even before that.
"You see," Trent took a deep breath. "I used to be enrolled at William McKinley High School." Trent turned to look at Sebastian, expecting to see a shocked expression on his face; he was disappointed to see it wasn't there, but he didn't let that stop him from continuing.
"I was a freshman at McKinley when Kurt was a sophomore. We didn't know each other, not really; but I often saw him in the hallways between classes, and I even shared a history class with him. He probably never noticed me because any chance we had to come face to face was ruined by a football player smashing him into a locker or tossing him into one of the dumpsters out by the parking lot.
"I wasn't really bullied because I kept my head down, but when my parents offered to let me transfer here to Dalton, I took it. I'm shamed to say it was because I worried about what might happen to me or people like me if something were to happen to Kurt, if he ceased to be amusing to the bullies and they looked for new targets.
"When he first came to Dalton, I wasn't sure if it was him. He was taller and looked older, but as soon as he spoke that first time… I knew it was him. And it broke my heart to know in time that I'd left McKinley, nothing had gotten better for him."
"Trent," a voice spoke out. Trent looked up to see his friend David addressing him. "You've never told any of us this before. Why?"
With a shrug, Trent answered: "A few reasons I suppose. Mainly, I didn't want to embarrass Kurt. I'd seen him at his worst, climbing out of a dumpster with mashed potatoes in his hair; drenched in red dye #6 on his way to third period. He was already in such pain, and I didn't want to add to it."
A hush fell over the room, and Trent thought - hoped - he'd made an impact on these kids. He needed them to know that Sebastian was up to no good; he didn't know why, but he had no doubt that there were ulterior motives to the lead Warbler's desire to take down Kurt.
As he'd done the day before, Sebastian began to clap.
"Will you stop that?" Trent growled, teeth clenched and fists tight at his sides.
"Why?" Sebastian laughed, standing up and moving around to stand in front of the annoyed Warbler. "You just told such a wonderful little story. I was just applauding your efforts. You might think you have them fooled, but I saw right through that."
"What are you talking about?" someone asked; Sebastian thought it sounded like Jon, but he didn't bother to confirm.
"You see, I'd been having my suspicions about Trent here for a while, but I wasn't sure."
"What are you talking about?" It was Trent who asked this time, his eyebrows furrowed.
"Oh, come on. Still with it, are you?" Sebastian glanced at the Warblers, but when they all wore the same confused expression, he sighed. "Trent is a traitor," he sing-songed as if speaking to children.
"Now, wait a minute here-"
"Are you crazy?"
"Trent, what's going on?"
"I knew it! I knew it!"
The voices talked over one another, each one getting louder than the one before it. Soon, they were yelling, standing and getting in each other's faces. Trent tried to keep between Jon and Samuel - two of the tallest members - to stop them from escalating into a fist fight. Nick, Jeff and a group of three others were pointing fingers and throwing around accusations. Still others were sitting motionless - deathly still - and taking in the scene around them. Sebastian noticed that David, a quiet senior who had served on the Council last year, was slowly shaking his head.
This was not exactly how Sebastian had planned for things to go down, but he knew that sometimes, you had to break things down - tear them apart until they held not a single trace of what they once were - in order to rebuild them into something stronger than ever before.
Two days later, Sebastian was ready to put a hole through a wall. The Warblers were still fighting, and when they weren't throwing vicious barbs at one another, they were silent and leveling hateful glares from the corners of their eyes. Every time Sebastian tried to make inroads, tried to bring up Regionals or the New Directions or even what fucking topping they should order for their traditional Thursday lunch of pizza, a new round of arguing and finger-pointing began.
All the while, Trent kept his gaze focused on Sebastian. Sebastian wanted to walk over and wipe the smirk off the idiot's face, but he knew that would not do; it was one thing to attack a Warbler-turned-defector, but physical violence among current ranks would be tolerated by no one, no matter who Sebastian was.
The longer his team mates fought, the longer he was kept away from formulating a new plot to teach one Kurt Hummel a lesson about messing with one Sebastian Smythe, the angrier Sebastian became. He wasn't going to accomplish anything sitting in this room listening to these morons; if he wanted something done right, he was going to have to do it himself.
He almost felt bad about how easy it was to contact Kurt and convince him to meet. While Kurt had certainly had a few choice remarks for Sebastian, he still readily agreed to drive all the way to Dalton to accept Sebastian's profound apologies for the way things had gotten out of hand. Sebastian hadn't even needed to suggest that Kurt come alone - Kurtie made that decision all on his own.
The spot Sebastian picked was Dalton's open-air sports court. The area wasn't used in the wintertime, and it offered the perfect, secluded spot get in Kurt's face without having witnesses hearing or seeing an altercation. Leaning against one of the walls that made up the wall-ball court, Sebastian let his mind wander, thinking about how truly a perfect match Kurt and Blaine were: they were both pretty, naïve and just plain stupid.
Sebastian hadn't heard Kurt's car pull up, but he could not miss the clack-clack-clack of the fashionista's designer boots. Sebastian rolled his eyes, but emerged from his hiding place just as Kurt passed.
"Oh, jeez!" Kurt gasped, a hand at his throat. "You scared me."
"Sorry," Sebastian smiled. "I pinkie-swear that wasn't my intention."
The half-smile on Kurt's face vanished, and the boy glanced around as if realizing for the first time exactly where he was.
"Why are we meeting out here?" Kurt questioned. He was wearing fingerless gloves, jeans and a coat that drifted to his knees; a sudden gust had him pulling the jacket tighter around his waist. "Certainly it would be more comfortable to speak indoors."
Sebastian shrugged. "I like being outside. Besides, the Warblers are a little upset with me at the moment." Kurt snorted and couldn't keep a small smile from twisting up the corners of his mouth. He cocked his head at Sebastian, feeling on top of the world, and waited for him to continue. "They don't understand why you aren't blind right now."
For the second time in as many minutes, Kurt's expression fell of his face, and his eyebrows knit in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"Come on, Kurt," Sebastian laughed, walking around and behind Kurt. "You know that Slushie was meant for you, right?"
Kurt turned on his heel; he was beginning to feel as if he'd made a mistake in coming out. Sebastian didn't sound very apologetic, and it was unnerving to have the boy constantly moving so that Kurt had to move with him in order to keep him in sight.
"Of course, but I have no doubt that it was all your idea," Kurt countered.
Sebastian tsked. "Actually, we took a vote."
"I don't believe you."
"Were you not there? Didn't you notice that not a single Warbler stayed behind while Blaine did his best impression of an extra in a Spanish telenovela?"
Kurt shook his head. "They didn't know." At Sebastian's puzzled expression, he continued: "They didn't know you put rock salt in the Slushie. They never would have done it had they'd known."
Sebastian's look bordered on pity. "You really believe that, don't you? You believe they give two shits about you?" Sebastian advanced on Kurt, watching with glee as the boy worked himself into a corner created by the walls of the court rather than move out into open space. "Whether they knew there was salt, acid or nothing at all in that Slushie, they all still - unanimously - agreed to go to the store, buy that fruity drink and watch as I threw it in your girly little face."
Kurt's lips were trembling, though he couldn't tell if it was the cold or the realization that the Warblers had conspired against him or the fact that Sebastian was encroaching on his personal space. His back hit the wall, but Sebastian still moved forward. Kurt put his hands out before he knew he wanted to, and he pushed Sebastian away when he got close enough. Sebastian stumbled but remained upright.
"Ouch, Kurt," he whined. "You wound me."
He moved forward again, and again Kurt pushed him back when he was within reach.
"Stay away from me," Kurt ordered. He tried to move away, intent on getting as far away from the place he never should have come to, but Sebastian grabbed his arm and forced him back into the corner.
"Leaving so soon? We haven't even really got a chance to talk yet. I mean, I expect you're still holding on to the misguide hope that I'm going to apologize, aren't you?"
"I should have known better," Kurt hissed. "You are scum. You are the lowest life-form on this planet, and I should have known better than to think you were anything more." Kurt again tried to push his way past Sebastian. The boy grabbed him by the upper arms and twirled them half a step before violently throwing Kurt back into the wall. His footing lost, Kurt stumbled and crashed into the brick shoulder first, his feet coming out from under him and sending him to his hands and knees. His breath was knocked from him, and he panted as the stark reality of his situation set in.
"Get up," Sebastian barked. Kurt stayed where he was; he'd learned through the years that bullies weren't really interested when their prey didn't fight back. If he stayed down, Sebastian would tire and leave. What he hadn't counted on was that Sebastian wasn't just a bully - he was a monster.
The kick to his midsection was unexpected, and Kurt crumpled. He gasped painfully, rolling to his side and holding his aching ribs. Sebastian reached down and pulled the boy up by the collar of his fancy jacket. When his knees buckled, Sebastian cursed and hurled him into the wall again. Kurt barely had the time or wherewithal to get his hands up before his face met the hard concrete. As it was, he could feel the palms of his hands stinging from the impact, and he sat down heavily when he couldn't get a grasp on the smooth wall. Looking up, he saw Sebastian moving towards him again, so he desperately pushed away with his feet.
"Stop!" he tried to scream, but his throat was sore from the way he'd been rapidly breathing in frigid air through his mouth. "Leave me alone!"
"Oh, Kurt; haven't you figure out that you aren't in charge anymore?" Sebastian knelt down and hoisted Kurt back up by his lapels. He rammed the slender boy into the wall behind him and smirked at Kurt's pained moan. "You've been one step ahead of me this entire time," Sebastian sneered. "And I'm tired of losing." He threw his fist into Kurt's stomach and held him up when he tried to curl over. "You should have walked away a long time ago." He let Kurt drop with the next punch, then landed another powerful kick before Kurt could protect himself.
Kurt couldn't breathe; he held a hand up and out, trying to stop Sebastian from striking again, but his attacker only swiped angrily at it with his foot. Kurt yelped at the flash of pain in his wrist; he wiggled away, but when he tried to put weight on his injured hand to get up, the joint burned and stung. He was lifted up again before he could he could manage to get his arms under him, and in a fit of desperation, he kicked out with his foot. The hard, clunky leather of his boot struck solidly with Sebastian's shin, and the boy released him as he fell to clutch at his throbbing leg.
Kurt tripped as he tried to get away, but he kept moving, determined to crawl if that's what it took to free himself from this psychopath's grasp. A hand grabbed at hem of his jeans, and he fell forward onto his injured wrist. Kurt screamed; he was certain that if the bone wasn't broken before, it was now. He kicked at the hand holding him hostage, but the grip was relentless. Sebastian pinned Kurt's legs down and crawled up his body. Settling his weight on Kurt's midsection, he batted the boy's hands away before delivering a solid punch that snapped Kurt's head to the side. He reached for Kurt's hair to position him for another, and Kurt started screaming. The boy went wild, ramming his knees into Sebastian's back and swiping out with his hand to punch, slap and scratch at Sebastian's face. He didn't like to fight dirty - he didn't like to fight at all - but his father always told him that desperate times called for desperate measures.
"You do whatever you have to do, you understand me? If it takes you kicking him in the balls and gouging his eyes out to save your life, you do it. There's no shame in doing what you have to do to survive."
Though they were hidden and out of the way, Sebastian knew that if Kurt continued to scream, someone would eventually come out to investigate. He tried to slap a hand over Kurt's mouth, but the boy bit harshly at his fingers and palm. Frustrated, Sebastian lost control and fitted his hands around the boy's neck. Kurt gasped, and his hands - his hand - immediately darted to his neck to break Sebastian's hold. Sebastian growled, using his grip on Kurt's throat to lift his head and slam it back down. Kurt's eyes rolled back and his hand lost its grip. Sebastian used the opportunity to rearrange his fingers and press down more harshly.
Kurt's mouth gaped, and Sebastian could literally feel the other boy's chest make aborted attempts at pulling in air. He laughed at Kurt, laughed right in his face, as the boy choked. He could end Kurt right now, he thought. He could be done with him once and for all. Sure, he admitted it seemed a drastic fate for a kid who hadn't really done anything wrong. But Sebastian argued that it could send a message: you don't mess with a Smythe. There would be no proof of any wrongdoing on the part of Sebastian because they would never find Kurt's body. Sebastian's father - or rather, his father's money and influence - would protect him, and it wouldn't be long before poor Kurt was just another statistic.
A sudden jab to Sebastian's spine sent fire through his back, and he moaned as he toppled off Kurt. He could hear Kurt making desperate gasps for air, his panting and coughing loud in the quiet courtyard where the only other noise was Sebastian's own writhing as he grasped at his back. Sebastian realized with a shock that he hadn't been attacked from behind; instead, it had been Kurt's own knee that had dealt the crippling blow.
"You son of bitch," Sebastian yelled, diving for the still-panting boy. Kurt rolled away just in time, and he tried to use the momentum to get on his feet. Sebastian kicked out at Kurt's knee, and Kurt yelled out in frustration as he again found himself back down. Not even trying to pull back his punches anymore, Sebastian aimed a kick at Kurt's stomach. The force lifted Kurt inches from the ground, and he fell back sobbing. Sebastian kicked him again in the side, and when Kurt tried to turn away, Sebastian kicked him in the back.
"I'm going to kill you," hissed Sebastian as he dragged Kurt to his feet. Kurt didn't even try to support himself, and as a result, he couldn't stop from being thrown yet again into an unforgiving wall. Sebastian followed through, and as soon as Kurt rebounded, he grabbed him and hurled him across the expanse towards another wall. With not nearly enough force behind the shove to span the twenty or so feet between the walls, Kurt dropped half-way.
Sebastian stalked towards Kurt and stood over his crumpled body. Though Sebastian's own shirt was untucked and his hair a mess, he looked infinitely better than Kurt. Kurt's split lip and a cut at his eyebrow were an angry red though they didn't bleed much, and his once-pristine, black outfit was scuffed and covered in the fine dust and dirt that covered the ground.
Sebastian reared his foot back, and expecting Kurt to move, aimed at where he thought his midsection would end up. Kurt didn't move, however, and the kick landed right on the front of his thigh. Kurt cried out, but there was little sound behind the hoarse breath. Sebastian's next kick struck the right spot, and he watched as Kurt sputtered and choked. Sebastian wondered if any of Kurt's ribs were broken; if they were, they might puncture a lung, and then Kurt would suffocate and die, he thought.
He watched in sick wonder the heavy rise and fall of Kurt's chest, the way his throat worked as it tried to bring in enough air to keep the boy conscious. Tears were streaming down Kurt's face, and his hair had long fallen out of its hairsprayed hold. The pathetic thing looked a mess, and Sebastian felt a strange wave of guilt course over him. It was gone as quickly as it came, and Sebastian's eyes hardened. This was all Kurt's own doing; if he had simply taken himself off that fucking pedestal that Blaine seemed to keep him on, then none of this would have happened. All he'd needed to do was walk away, but the boy was too proud - or ignorant - to do so, and these were the consequences of his actions.
Sebastian pulled his foot back again, intending to finish the job once and for all when a sudden gasp and an "Oh my, God" drifted through the air. Sebastian stared down at Kurt, but the boy hadn't moved; his face was still pressed to the ground and his fingers scrabbled weakly at the concrete. Turning on his heel, Sebastian found himself face-to-face with none other than Trent. He was about to bark at the boy, tell him to get the fuck out of here, when there were more footsteps and then more bodies.
There was a new gasp or exclamation with each Warbler that appeared, and it only took seconds before the entirety of Dalton's glee club was on one side and Sebastian and broken, bloody Kurt were on the other.
"Jesus Christ," Trent spoke. "What did you do? What did you do?"
The shock at being found stole Sebastian's voice, and he looked stupidly between where Trent had fallen to his knees next to Kurt and where the other men stood. No one moved or said anything for several seconds, except for Trent who was desperately whispering, "Kurt? Kurt, can you hear me? Kurt?"
Then people were moving; two of them pushed Sebastian until he fell back against one of the very walls he'd hurled Kurt into at least twice. Someone else - Nick or Thad, Sebastian couldn't be sure from the back - rushed to Kurt's opposite side, and several of the other Warblers ran back towards the school. Realizing that there would soon be faculty and even the police present, Sebastian struggled to explain.
"He started it," he mumbled, then said it again louder when no one paid him any attention. "He attacked me, and I was just defending myself." Sebastian looked to Jon, one of the Warblers who'd thrown him back. "Do you hear me, Jon? Do you understand? He attacked me, got it?"
Jon stared at him but didn't say a word. Sebastian tried to smile, tried to get a reaction from the taller boy, but Jon didn't move but to push Sebastian away when he got closer. Sebastian tumbled onto his ass. He looked over at where Kurt was lying, and he saw that Trent had stuffed someone's blazer under the boy's head. The side of his face where Sebastian had punched him was already bruising, and Kurt was breathing heavily through his mouth. Someone - it was Nick, not Thad - shifted Kurt's head slightly to help him breathe easier, and Sebastian found himself staring at ugly, dark marks marring Kurt's neck.
"He started it," Sebastian found himself repeating though it was clear no one was listening to him. "He came here; he confronted me."
There was a wavering in his voice that he didn't recognize. Sebastian looked down at his hands, at knuckles that were scraped and bruised. It wasn't the blood or discoloration that concerned him, though; it was the fact that he was shaking. His hands, his arms, his legs even - they jolted without his permission, and Sebastian realized that for the first time for as long as he could remember, he might be in trouble, and he was scared.