The Source of Our Power: Chapter 15

Blaine was toweling his hair dry when he heard the soft knock at his already-open bedroom door.

"Hey," Kurt said simply with a tiny smile. His eyes flickered to meet Blaine's momentarily before falling back down to his own hands, clasped neatly in front of him.

Blaine returned the smile and gestured for Kurt to come in. "I thought you'd be in pajamas by now," Blaine said, taking in Kurt's perfectly tailored trousers and soft hip-length green sweater.

Kurt groaned. "The last thing I want to put on my body right now is sleepwear. If I never see another robe again it will be too soon."

"Well, you look...um...you look great," Blaine murmured shyly. Kurt was wearing bedroom slippers, but Blaine chose not to point that out.

"Thanks." They stood in silence for a moment before Kurt made his way over to Blaine's bed and sat down. "Blaine, I...I'm so sorry. To put you through that, probably ruin your date. I shouldn't have run off like that, it was incredibly reckless."

"Why did you?" Blaine asked, careful to keep his voice as gentle as possible. Suddenly remembering that his pajama shirt was hanging open, he began to button it up self-consciously.

"I...Jesse called me. He told me some things that upset me, and I suppose he knew just what to say. I wasn't thinking straight – or at all, really."

Blaine swallowed. "What did he say?"

Kurt looked up at him. "He...he just really knows how to push my buttons, that's all."

Blaine was burning to press for more information, but forced himself to simply nod instead. He sat down beside Kurt and took his hand. Kurt inhaled sharply.

"Kurt...you don't have to tell me what he said, but please at least promise me you won't do that again. I...if anything happened to you..."

Kurt squeezed his hand. "But it didn't. You saved me."

"You saved me." Kurt smiled at that, then let his gaze settle on Blaine's throat. He gently extricated his hand from Blaine and moved both hands to very, very gently touch the twin punctures on Blaine's neck.

"Are you all right? He really...he really hurt you, Blaine."

Blaine winced slightly at the touch. "I've got a monster headache and my neck is still a little tender," he admitted. Kurt lowered his hands quickly. "But Slayers heal fast, Kurt. I'm already feeling a lot better. What about you? Your head..."

"Carole looked at it. I don't have a concussion, I should be all right. The bottoms of my feet are a mess, though."

"Does it hurt to walk?"

Kurt shrugged. "She bandaged them up, but kind of, yeah."

Blaine smiled. "Well, if you want someone to carry you so you don't injure them further-"

"You are not carrying me, Blaine, my god. I just have to take it easy."

Blaine laughed softly. Kurt cast his eyes downward. "Besides...I don't think Jeremiah would look too fondly upon you carrying me around. You know."

Blaine stared at him. Oh, yeah. Last Kurt knew, Blaine was on a date with Jeremiah. "Kurt-"

"She is not setting foot in this house, and that is final!"

Burt's voice made them both snap to attention, clear and loud and full of rage.

"We, um, should probably see what's going on down there," Kurt said as he climbed to his feet with a small wince. Blaine sprung up beside him and wrapped an arm around his waist for support.

Kurt shot him a perfunctory glare, but allowed Blaine to help him down the stairs.

"Are you sure about this, Brittany?" Angel's eyes were heavy and piercing as they searched hers. "I don't...this is a big risk, and I have to be sure that-"

"I'm sure. We just have to find a place where-"

"I know the place."

Brittany grinned. "I thought you probably would. This is going to work, Angel, I swear. It's gonna be so hot."

"I..um." Angel furrowed his brows, seemingly at a complete loss as to how to respond.

"It's kind of romantic, don't you think?" She continued. "That it was all leading up to this, I mean."

Angel swallowed reflexively, unnecessarily. "I don't know, I-"

He stood up from the porch swing they were sharing and looked out across the back yard with unseeing eyes. Brittany studied him, but said nothing.

They remained in comfortable silence for a few moments, Brittany rocking herself gently on the porch swing and humming a soft tune while Angel pondered.

"So both of them are important after all," Angel finally said, his back still to Brittany.

"Of course they are. But don't worry, you're important too."

Angel turned around and gave her a small smile. It quickly turned back to a frown as his eyebrows knitted together in thought. "But what about...we don't know how it's going to affect me, Brittany. We can't risk letting Angelus out."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Brittany answered brightly. "You're not that important. If that happens, I've got Rachel and Mercedes and Ms. Pillsbury and that scary witch lady and Kurt's dad to help me kill you. Santana and Spike will probably be here by then too, and you're no match for all of us together."

"Oh. Uh...good. I'm glad you...uh...have a plan for that."

"You're welcome," Brittany said, kicking her legs up slightly on an upswing and beaming at him.

"Wait. How do you know Santana and-"

"She is not setting foot in this house, and that is final!"

"They're here!" Brittany squealed in response to Burt's booming, rage-filled voice from inside the house. Angels's eyes went wide.

Brittany leapt to her feet and ran inside, Angel following close behind.

They reached the front hallway to find a red-faced Burt, angrier than Blaine had ever seen him before, glowering through the open door at a man and a woman on the front porch.

"Burt, take it easy. You'll give yourself another heart attack," the man was saying. He was blond and sounded British (he also sounded sexy, but Blaine tried not to notice).

"I told you-" Burt continued as if he hadn't heard, leaning past the man to jab a finger in the woman's face - "that if I ever saw you again I would kill you. You're not trying to make a liar out of me, are you?"

"Yes, Burt, actually, I am. Because I'd really like to see you try." Her voice was cool and calm, but lacked true venom. Blaine peered around Burt's shoulders to look at her. She was beautiful; there was something classic and almost untouchable about her, as if she belonged in some other time, some other world altogether. She was captivating.

And there was something...

Blaine was startled from his thoughts when he felt Kurt's weight abruptly leave his side. Biting his lip against a wince of pain, Kurt strode purposely toward the wooden bench by the doorway that doubled as a storage chest. He opened the chest and pulled out a stake, and then stormed past Burt, lunging at the woman.

"Kurt!" Blaine and Burt called out almost simultaneously. Kurt's aim was perfect, and if her reflexes had been the minutest bit slower, the woman would have found herself very thoroughly dead.

Or – so it appeared – very thoroughly dusted. Kurt's attack had caused her to reveal her vamp face, and she moved so fast she was nearly a blur. She grabbed his wrist and twisted the stake free, but the whimper of pain that came from Kurt didn't seem to slow his reflexes either. He landed a hard kick to her stomach (in bedroom slippers, ouch), and the woman stumbled back with shock, falling backward over the porch's railing and landing with an audible crunch in the rhodedendrons. Kurt managed to wrench the stake back from her hand in the process, and promptly scaled the railing to jump down beside her.

Blaine, Burt and the blond man ran out after them, ready to jump into the fray the second it seemed necessary. They stopped several feet from Kurt, none of them wanting to incur his wrath for stepping in too soon and implying that he couldn't hold his own.

"How dare you come here?" Kurt screamed. His voice was shrill and edged with hysteria. "Killing my mother wasn't enough for you, is that it? What do you want now? My friends? My father? My Slayer?"

"I didn't know it was your house, Summers," the woman growled, rising to her feet with liquid grace and brushing crushed leaves and petals off of herself. "Angel just said help was needed." She continued to sound calm and cool, her face lovely and human again, but the glare she tossed Angel made the hairs on the back of Blaine's neck stand up.

Kurt laughed bitterly. "Oh, is that so?"

"Yes, I did," Angel confirmed from behind Blaine. Blaine turned and stared.

He wasn't sure when Angel had joined them on the lawn. Brittany was standing beside him, her eyes huge and round, looking as overwhelmed by the situation as Blaine felt.

"I didn't mean for you to...you guys are early. I meant to, uh...ease them into the idea. Spike was supposed to send me a message when you guys were near the Helmsworth mausoleum."

The blond man shrugged. "Blondie here seemed to think things were a bit on the desperate side," he said, gesturing to Brittany. "We would have ended up here anyway, what's the difference?"

"You told her to come here." Kurt was staring at Angel now, and Blaine hoped he'd never give cause to have that particular expression directed at him.

"Kurt, this is serious. There's a hellmouth that's about to open, Sylvester and Albertson and their cronies will be coming for us again with reinforcements, and we need all the help we can get. You know how valuable Santana will be in a fight."

Kurt laughed bitterly. "The next thing you're going to be saying is that we can trust her."

"We c-" Angel stopped in mid-sentence when the blonde man grabbed his shoulder and gave him a pointed look.

"Looks like you managed to weave this one into a mighty clusterfuck already, Angel. What say Santana and I go find ourselves a nice hotel, put it on your credit card, and let you sort out this little mess, hmmm?"

Angel growled in frustration. "Spike, if you had just gone to the mausoleum like I told y-"

"Sure. Blame it on Spike. Looks like that game never gets old, hey? Come on, Santana, clearly we're not wanted here."

The man – Spike – walked over to Santana and began to pull her gently toward the driveway.

Kurt stepped in front of them. "No."

Kurt's mouth was in a thin line and his eyes were the most intense ice blue that Blaine had ever seen. He was staring unblinkingly at Santana.

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Problem, Nibblet?"

"Get out of the way, please, Spike. I'm going to kill her."

Santana smirked. "Are you, now? You are aware of how incredibly cute that is, aren't you?"

She pushed Spike aside and began making slow, deliberate strides toward Kurt. "You want me, Summers? Well, here I am." She spread her arms out, leaving her chest open and unguarded, before allowing her features to shift out of their human mask once again. "Stake me already."

Kurt raised his stake.

"Santana, no!" To Blaine's immense surprise, Brittany darted between Kurt and Santana, blocking them from one another. "Don't kill him, please!"

Santana looked at Brittany with a mixture of shock and-

and something else. Something soft. Something Blaine was pretty sure he didn't like.

"Britt, I wouldn't. I was just going to-"

"Excuse me," Kurt interrupted. "I believe I'm the one holding the stake here."

Brittany reached over and snatched the stake from Kurt's grasp before he even seemed to register that she had moved.

"Stakes kill, Kurt," she said seriously.

"They're supposed to kill!" Kurt grated. "Brittany, I don't know if you noticed, but this woman is a vampire. We stake vampires in this household."

"But she's got a soul!"

"What's the difference? She's still a vampire."

"Ouch." Blaine tore his eyes away from Kurt to glance at Spike, who looked downright offended. "So that's how we feel is it, Little Bit?" He asked. "I'll have you know I saved your life on more than one occasion. I taught you to do a proper roundhouse kick. I changed your nappies, for fuck's sake."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I'm not talking about you, Spike. You know that." He folded his arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes as Brittany slipped an arm around Santana's waist.

"Yeah, well, we're the three bloody amigos, whether I like it or not," Spike said, looking appraisingly from Angel to Santana. "Judge one and you judge us all, I'm afraid."

"You didn't kill my mother," Kurt said sharply.

"No, I believe it was your father that did that," Santana cut in.

"Santana," Angel said, his voice a soft warning.

"What?" she snapped. "I'm sorry, were you attempting to put a muzzle on me, Angel? Wild creature that I am?"

Angel simply stared at her for a long moment, and she held his gaze. Nobody spoke.

Finally, Santana sighed. "Whatever," she muttered, casting her eyes to the ground. Brittany gave her a squeeze.

"Kurt, we've got to-" Angel began.

"No."

"Kurt-"

"No." Kurt threw his hands up and stormed up the porch steps. He paused and turned back to the small, tense crowd on the lawn. "If she sets foot in this house, I'll...I'll burn it to the fucking ground, okay?"

He turned and stormed into the house quickly.

But not so quickly that Blaine didn't see the tears in his eyes.

"Burt-"

Burt shook his head. It wasn't until that moment that Blaine realized he'd been silent for almost the entire confrontation.

"It's asking too much, Angel," Burt said softly, his eyes on his shoes. "Do what you gotta do to get the best group of fighters you can. I'll fight beside whoever I have to. But don't ask me to invite that thing into my home."

He lifted his head, and the strength of his gaze actually caused Angel to take an unconscious step backward. "And don't you ever pull a stunt like this on us again either. Now excuse me, but I gotta go see if my kid's okay."

And with that, Burt quietly retreated into the house, closing the door firmly behind him.

Blaine had barely moved a muscle since joining Kurt and Santana on the lawn. Staring at the front door, he chewed his lip and considered before glancing over to Angel. "Do you think I should go talk to him?" he asked. "I mean-"

Angel shook his head. "Give them a few minutes," he murmured. "Burt's the only one who can talk to him when he..." Angel closed his eyes and sighed. "Just give them a few minutes," he repeated.

"What's the story with this one, then?" Spike asked suddenly, and Blaine realized with a start that Spike was looking right at him. "Some poor mutt pappa Kalderash dragged home?"

"This is Blaine, Spike," Angel said distractedly, glancing up to where the light had gone on in Kurt's bedroom.

"Riiiiight," Spike responded with a smirk, and began to circle Blaine. "So let's have a look at the little chip off the 'ol block, shall we?"

Blaine narrowed his eyes at the man as he continued to look Blaine up and down while he walked. Blaine was almost certain he was a vampire, and he wasn't sure how on board he was with yet another vampire seeming to reside in Kurt and Burt's inner circle.

"Who are you?" Blaine asked. Spike chuckled.

"You know, if the bleeding council had decided to be half as generous to me as they did to the boy wonder over here," he began, gesturing to Angel, "you wouldn't be asking me that. Written out altogether, I was. Not like I did anything important, though, only saved the ruddy world."

Angel rolled his eyes. "Spike, you saved the world one time. What do you want, a parade?"

"All I'm saying is that a little recognition wouldn't hurt. You haven't been the only ensouled vampire on the block for a long time, mate, but the way the council goes on about it-"

"I don't write the history books, Spike."

"Maybe not, but you seem perfectly happy to see them rewritten," Spike muttered.

Blaine raised an eyebrow and glanced back and forth between them. "Are...you guys exes or something?"

A peal of sharp laughter split the night, and Santana clutched onto Brittany's shoulder for support.

"Oh, that's priceless. I like this kid already."

Blaine turned and looked directly at her for the first time that night. "I'd prefer it if you didn't talk to me," he said coolly.

Santana blinked, and the faintest glimmer of what looked like actual hurt shot across her face before her features hardened into a sneer.

"What, you think not talking to me will get Summers to grab his ankles for you?" She snapped.

"You're disgusting," Blaine replied tonelessly. "You're the one who – you ruined his childhood. You killed his mother and almost got his father killed in the process, you kidnapped him and almost killed him, you stalked and terrified his family, you...why would you show up at his house like this? I thought you were supposed to have a soul now. I-"

"Not that it's any of your concern," Santana spat, "but I didn't know he lived here. All I did was-"

"Well you know he lives here now," Blaine cut in, his voice rising in both pitch and volume. "Why the hell haven't you left yet?"

Santana simply glared at him for a moment, and Blaine felt himself itching for an excuse to fight her. To stake her. To make her scream with agony for everything she'd ever done to Kurt's heart before he ended her completely.

"You know what, dwarf?" She asked, her voice unsettlingly calm and quiet. "That is an excellent point."

Brittany clamped down on Santana's arm as she moved to leave, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. "No," she whispered. "Don't...Blaine, she didn't mean to. It wasn't even her, it was the demon that took her body when her soul went away. She didn't kill Kurt's mother, I swear she-"

"Brittany, let go," Santana said softly, not meeting the other woman's eye.

"But Santana, we need you for this, I need you, I-"

"No one needs me," Santana cut her off sharply, wrenching her arm free. She turned and stalked off, heading toward the densely wooded land across the street from the house.

Brittany bit her lip and looked back and forth between Blaine and Santana. She walked up to Blaine and hugged him. "Be careful," she whispered. "Just do what Angel tells you, okay?"

Blaine swallowed. "I...Brittany, don't. She's a vampire and you don't know her, and-"

"I'll be careful if you will," Brittany murmured into his neck, giving him one last squeeze. "Promise me, please?"

"I'll be careful," Blaine whispered.

And before he could say anything else, Brittany was gone.

"Well, I see you haven't rescinded my standing invite. Way to make a bloke feel welcome."

Kurt looked up at Spike with red-rimmed eyes from where he and his father were sitting on Kurt's bed.

"How could you?" Kurt asked, staring at him. Spike swore under his breath and turned his head sharply.

"Put those eyes away, would you?" he muttered. "They remind me too much of–" he sighed and scrubbed a hand across his face. "Look, Nibblet. You know how much I cared for your mum, and I'm not excusing any of it, so understand that. But Santana didn't kill her. The creature that killed her is gone."

"Don't talk to me like in my first year of Slayer school," Kurt muttered irritably. "I know that, I just – how could you bring her to our house, Spike?"

"I wasn't-" Spike sighed and stopped himself. "I'm sorry."

Kurt and Burt raised their eyebrows nearly in unison. Those were not words one heard Spike utter often.

"I didn't really think things through. Brittney joined up with us and she was prattling on like Drusilla on a bad day, and then she took off saying that you were in danger, and someone was going to kill you, and I just-" Spike's eyes softened as he looked down at Kurt. He put his hand on Kurt's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I didn't think things through," he said again. "I was too worried that something might have happened to you, all right, Nibblet?"

Kurt reached for a tissue from the box on his night stand and dabbed at his eyes, nodding. "All right," he answered softly. "But I can't – I don't want her here."

"We could really use her help, bud," Burt said gently, and Kurt sighed and looked down at his lap. "And I wouldn't say that if things weren't serious. But it's only a matter of time before Sylvester and her cronies find out that Blaine-"

"I know," Kurt sighed.

"She's not coming inside," Burt added, his voice still soft but his tone fierce. "So you don't have to worry about that, OK? I would never give her an invitation. None of us would."

"I don't know that that will be an issue anyway," Spike added. "Your Slayer had a rather spectacular go at her, and she ran off into the woods. I get the feeling she doesn't feel particularly welcome around here."

"She isn't," Kurt said coldly. He glanced back up at Spike. "But Blaine...Blaine really...what did he say?"

Spike shrugged. "Well. I believe he called her disgusting. Said if she really had a soul, she wouldn't have shown up here. That sort of thing."

Kurt couldn't fight back the tiniest of smiles. "Oh," he said.

Spike arched an eyebrow at him with a slight smirk. "Oh, so it's like that, is it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Spike," Kurt said primly, sitting up very straight.

"Don't bother, Bit, I can read you like a book. Someone's gone soft on his Slayer, hasn't he?"

"You're insane," Kurt answered with a glare. He glanced at his father, who seemed to be suppressing a smirk of his own. Kurt glared at him too. "I'm done talking about this," Kurt announced, standing up. "Now drop it, Spike, or I'll rescind your invitation as soon as the sun comes up."

Spike smiled and ruffled Kurt's hair until Kurt swatted his hand away with a yelp. "There you are, Nibblet," he said. "I knew I could wrestle a bit of snark out of you if I tried."

When Kurt finally emerged from his room with Burt and Spike in tow, the first thing he saw was Blaine standing awkwardly in the hallway, wringing his hands together.

"I didn't...I wasn't sure if you wanted me to come in, so I-" he swallowed nervously. "I just. Are you okay?"

Kurt smiled and walked over to Blaine as Burt and Spike ascended the stairs. "I'm fine, Blaine, thank you. It was just a bit of a shock, seeing her."

Blaine bit his lip and nodded. "Well, she's – she's gone now, so – well. She's gone."

Kurt smiled. "Thanks to you, I hear."

Blaine blushed. "I didn't – I wasn't sure what I should – god, are things always this complicated around here?" Kurt laughed and took his arm.

"Oh, Blaine," he answered fondly, "of course they are." He started to lead Blaine toward the stairs to follow Burt and Spike, but Blaine gave his arm a gentle hug.

"Actually, Angel's waiting in my room. He said he needed to talk to us."

Kurt tried not to notice how much he loved the feel of his arms wrapped around Blaine's body. He tried not to notice how warm and firm and perfect he felt.

He really did try. He just wasn't necessarily successful.

Blaine shifted gears when they hit a particularly long, empty stretch of road, and Kurt tried to force himself to focus on anything other than the fact that he had just tightened his arms around Blaine as they picked up speed.

"You need to leave," Angel had said. "Both of you."

He had been infuriatingly vague, which was certainly nothing new, but it seemed that Brittany had had a vision.

Tammy Jean Albertson knew that Blaine was the descendant of the last lone Slayer, a fact that Kurt himself hadn't been privy to until that very night. Tammy Jean Albertson, Undersecretary to Julius Wolfram, Chief Minister of the Mid States. And she appeared to be working with Sue Sylvester, a woman with the Council in the palm of her bony hand.

Their combined resources were truly staggering.

Kurt and Blaine had both argued with Angel – they didn't want to run, they wanted to stay and fight, it didn't make any sense. But Angel had been adamant: This wasn't just about Blaine. This was about The Change. This was about preserving Willow Rosenberg's gift to humanity, no matter how little humanity may appreciate it. This was about all Slayers, everywhere.

Angel had been decidedly less clear on the subject of why Kurt needed to accompany Blaine, but he had been just as adamant. It hadn't helped that Burt had leapt at the chance to keep Kurt out of harm's way.

Finally, Burt had pulled out his ace card: "You boys need to go somewhere they can't find you, can't get to you no matter what tricks they've got up their sleeves. There's only one place like that I can think of, Kurt, and you know Blaine can't get there without you."

Kurt had been on the verge of shooting back "you could bring him," but he didn't. He just...

Well. He just didn't.

Kurt couldn't rid himself of the pangs of guilt that still shot through him. He probably should have insisted that Burt take Blaine instead. Burt was far older than Kurt and had a heart condition, even if he was a stronger warlock.

Back at the house, Kurt knew the people he loved were readying for battle. He imagined Puck and the pack would join them, as well as Will and Emma, Rachel and Mercedes, Shannon and Lauren and Artie.

And, of course, Jeremiah.

Kurt tightened his arms around Blaine's waist even more.

Everyone else was readying for battle, and Kurt could only hope that they survived. And he was running off to hide in the woods like a coward.

Alone. With Blaine.

As they approached a familiar intersection, Kurt leaned in so that Blaine could hear him over the wind whipping past.

"Turn left here," Kurt told him, his lips hot on Blaine's ear.

Blaine turned onto the old road, potholed and bumpy and devoid of artificial lights.

And Kurt held onto him as they surged forth, allowing the night to swallow them whole.