The Source of Our Power: Chapter 17

When Kurt awoke he was alone.

"Blaine?" he called.

There was no answer.

"Blaine!" He felt his voice rising in panic, which he knew was ridiculous, because Blaine was probably just in the bathroom or something.

Kurt climbed out of bed, shivering in the cold night air, the fire in the hearth long since burned to ashes.

He winced at the flare of pain in several muscles at once as he stood up, and then smiled when he remembered why he was so sore. He didn't care if it hurt. It had been so worth it.

Kurt clicked on the floor lamp closest to the futon, squinting against the too-bright flood of light it produced. He pulled on the sweat pants and button-down flannel shirt that had been discarded on the floor, as well as the thick wool socks he had never gotten around to putting on the night before.

"Blaine?" Kurt called softly, heading toward the bathroom. The door was slightly open and the room was dark and silent. There was no light coming from the kitchen or any of the bedrooms either.

Kurt frowned. It was still pouring outside. Surely Blaine hadn't -

Kurt didn't bother to think too hard on why Blaine going outside in the middle of the night made no sense at all. He just found his boots, cringing when he realized how wet they still were, and pulled them on.

Kurt grabbed a flashlight from a cabinet drawer just inside the door, and flicked it on. He opened the door and stared out into the night.

"Blaine?" Kurt called loudly over the pouring rain.

Kurt was about to go back inside and undergo a more thorough search – surely Blaine had just fallen asleep somewhere else in the cabin for some reason and was sleeping soundly. Surely-

Kurt gasped when his flashlight beam illuminated a familiar crumpled figure on the ground in front of the cabin.

"BLAINE!" He screamed, and ran down the steps and into the storm.

~000~

Angel had gone completely still. Santana watched him warily, trying to keep Brittany in her line of vision as well. She had no idea which one of them might become dangerous first, but she didn't want to take any chances.

"It is done," Brittany said again, and this time she was looking right at Santana. Santana raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah, I kind of heard you the first twelve times you said that, Brit. But unless you want to explain what is done, exactly, you may as well go back to speaking in tongues, because-"

"The curse. It has run its course. The rift has been healed. The offense is forgiven."

"The...curse?" Santana asked nervously. She glanced over at Spike, who looked no more comforted by this news than she was. "The curse that gave Angel a soul? That curse?"

Brittany stared at Santana for a long moment. "All curses may be forgiven," she finally said, still in that strange, low voice that did not belong to her. "If it is earned."

And then Brittany promptly collapsed into a heap in the grass.

Angel moaned quietly and began to move.

"Angel?" Spike asked, pulling a stake out of his belt and throwing Santana a meaningful look. "You 'right? Need any help, mate?"

Angel pulled himself up onto his knees, his back to the other two vampires. "No," he answered, his tone unreadable. "The pain is gone."

"You sure?" Santana asked, wrenching Spike's sword from the body of the fallen grappler demon.

"Yeah" Angel replied, and turned to face her. "I feel...The curse."

Spike and Santana tightened their grips on their weapons.

Angel stared between them both, looking a bit dazed and apparently unaware that they looked ready to strike. "The curse is gone," he said.

Santana looked dubious. "Does that mean you're Angelus at the moment? Because frankly, I'm kind of disapp-"

"No," Angel answered, shaking his head and seeming to snap into some sort of awareness, as if finally waking up fully from a heavy sleep. "No, there is no more Angelus. He's gone. It's all..." he turned to face her completely, his face a mask of shock. "I think I'm allowed to be happy now."

~000~

"Blaine," Kurt pleaded as he approached Blaine's immobile body on the ground before him. It was too soon for this, it had only been a handful of hours since the first time he had seen Blaine lying unconscious in the rain. Kurt suddenly had a cold, horrible moment in which he wondered if he had imagined his night in the cabin with Blaine. Maybe he had had some sort of grief-induced break from reality. Maybe Blaine hadn't made it after all. Maybe-

"Blaine, please!" Kurt cried, hot tears mixing with cold rain on his cheeks. He flung himself onto the ground beside Blaine and threw his arms around him.

Blaine groaned softly. "Kurt?"

Kurt laughed, maybe a little maniacally, with relief.

Blaine opened his eyes and slowly sat up, blinking into Kurt's eyes through the darkness.

"Something happened," he said. "I don't...I'm not sure..."

Kurt didn't care what had happened. He pulled Blaine to him as tightly as possible and breathed a deep, clean sigh of relief.

"Can we talk about it inside?" He asked. "At this rate we're going to dirty everything in the cedar closet in one night."

Blaine laughed weakly and nodded, and they climbed to their feet and made their way back into the cabin.

~000~

One must be very careful when dealing in curses.

Once upon a time, a particularly cruel and sadistic vampire was cursed with a soul, so that he might suffer with the knowledge of all the horrors he had committed. And if his suffering should ever truly diminish – the curse decreed – if he were ever to experience true happiness, even for a single moment, his soul would be lost again.

The curse itself was nothing out of the ordinary, as far as curses go. But curses are simple things. They do not fare well when faced with complexities and paradoxes.

After many years, the vampire did more than merely suffer. After many years, the vampire began to redeem himself. Without expecting any sort of reward or absolution, he became committed to the fight against evil in all its forms.

Over time, he became a champion.

To deny true happiness to a champion amongst women and men, to curse one who will die to save an innocent creature or the world itself – such magic becomes dangerous and unstable. Such magic will infect not only its intended target, but the very world in which he lives.

This is why one must be very careful when dealing in curses.

The infection began as a small current, almost unnoticeable, almost too small to affect a single blade of grass.

But as the effect of the curse grew, so did the infection grow. For the curse was broken and restored, manipulated and changed, and its existence broke not only the heart of the vampire champion, but the heart of a girl. A girl who was also a champion.

And the curse was not intended to shatter the hearts of champions.

The scales tipped out of alignment, and the world descended slowly into darkness. The girl died, and the vampire champion remained alone. Perhaps forever alone.

But the story does not end there.

Because once upon a time, two champions – two soulmates – were given the chance at love that their ancestors were denied.

And once upon a time, and many times before and after that, it was love that fixed what was broken in the world.

~000~

When Brittany awoke, she was herself again, though a bit wiser. She knew the entire of the prophecy by heart ("I don't know how, I just do"), and when she recited it, Angel couldn't help but smile.

"A witch's curse that blends dark with light, demon with champion, shall decide the fate of the world. The final rift is healed from the blood of two vampires, wombs of three Slayers, the power of the first demons to roam the Earth. A man amongst women. Innocent. As death begins the curse, a fertile love ends it. As she who could not hold his love is vindicated, a soul is awarded, and justice will bloom anew."

"This prophet sounds like he might have gotten into the sauce before he came up with that – is it supposed to make any kind of sense?" Spike asked, still eyeing Angel suspiciously.

"Oh, it makes sense," Santana said with a lascivious grin. "It means that those two pretty ponies went and fucked the curse right out of you, didn't they, Angel?"

Angel looked thoroughly unimpressed. "There's no need to be so crass. This isn't about sex, it's about love."

"It's about sex too," Brittany pointed out. "'Cause that's how you broke the curse that one time."

"That wasn't about sex either!" Angel snapped. "Well, I guess it kind of was. But not just...not just sex. It was about the connection."

"Gross," said Santana, sounding slightly bored. "Look, this is a beautiful moment and all, but we should probably go help out those guys," she added, motioning toward the still-raging battle in front of them.

"Yeah," Brittany agreed with a broad smile. "because now we're actually going to win."

~000~

As with most changes the world, it really wasn't one big thing at all. It was thousands of little ones.

In a cabin in the woods on a rainy night, two boys make love and share the kind of happiness that their ancestors were cursed never to have.

In a field on the edge of a battle, a champion finally earns his soul, with absolutely no strings attached.

In expensive houses behind locked gates sprinkled throughout the Mid States, several lawmakers awaken in the night, wondering why the ethics committee to investigate the methods of one Tammy Jean Albertson was unceremoniously disbanded all those months ago without protest.

In London, England the Watchers' Council arrests ten spies that have been working to destroy the Council from within.

And all ten begin naming names.

At the Sylvester School in Pennsylvania, a group of teenaged girls fells the last of their jailers and escapes into the night, their victory cries ringing out around them.

And in that cabin in the woods, the two boys take a hot shower together and build another fire, nestle their naked bodies close beneath a mountain of blankets and melt into one another, knowing – knowing – that they aren't going to lose each other anytime soon.

"I don't know what it is," Blaine said, "But I think we can go back soon. I think...I think it might be safe."

"Mmmm," Kurt agreed, already on the edge of sleep once again. "But we should sleep first. And Blaine?"

"Hmmmm?"

"I don't want to wake up alone again."

Blaine lifted Kurt's head from his shoulder with gentle hands and kissed him again and again and again.

"You never have to wake up alone anymore," Blaine whispered.

~000~

Jeremiah blinked, dropping the golf club before jerking sharply.

"Stop me," he said urgently. Artie didn't need to be told twice. He was already halfway through an incantation, and it was mere seconds before a nearly invisible wall surrounded Jeremiah on all sides. He sighed in relief and sank to the ground. "Thanks. Jesse – he – he got inside my head, and he seems to still have a foothold."

"What the hell did that mofo do to you, anyway? Bind you to his will?"

Jeremiah sighed. "I think so."

"Yeah, well I hope Angel gets here soon, because your ass is not coming out of that cage."

~000~

Angel felt utterly invincible. It was as if his movements were even smoother and faster before, like the rest of the world had slowed down slightly and he could anticipate every move each opponent could possibly make. He killed his way across the yard, staking and beheading and snapping necks.

He imagined that this must be how Spike felt. He wasn't just one of the demons anymore, and he was more than an invited guest amongst the living. Because now he was allowed to seek happiness just like the rest of them.

Now he was allowed to truly live.

"Angel!" Rachel was breathless when she ran onto the porch and spotted him. "Artie and Jerry need you now. They think they might have something!"

"Where's Lauren?" he asked immediately as he moved toward the house.

"She's...um..." Rachel's face was crestfallen.

"She's feeling like shit and she probably won't be able to cast a decent spell for weeks, but she could be a hell of a lot worse," came a voice behind Rachel. Rachel whipped around to see Lauren, looking pale and tired but most definitely alive.

"Lauren! Oh my god, you're alive! I can't – that's so – I'm going to hug you now, okay?"

"Try it and I'll burn your hair off," Lauren snapped.

Rachel looked unamused. "I thought your powers were depleted."

"I have matches."

"Uh...hey...attic?" Angel reminded them.

"Come on," Rachel said, enthusiasm returning. She grabbed Lauren's hand and tugged her along, ignoring the exasperation in the other woman's eyes at the gesture. "Artie thinks they might have found something!"

~000~

Santana was having a bit of trouble concentrating on the fight. Brittany was beautiful, unusual, creative and wise, though few would ever really understand, let alone appreciate it. So of course she and Santana would fight like a well-oiled machine, anticipating one another's every move as if they had spent months choreographing their movements.

It was too much. Too perfect. It brought Santana dangerously close to thinking about a future with Brittany, and that was something she knew she couldn't have.

In fact, it was something she really needed to nip in the bud.

"I..." Santana swallowed. "We should probably split up. See who needs backup."

Brittany looked at Santana thoughtfully, casually staking a vampire to her left as he charged. "Well, we are a pretty killer ladyfighting team, but I guess you're right. Most people here aren't as awesome as us."

Santana bit back a smile and took off toward the house before Brittany could hug her or – even worse – kiss her again.

On the roof she spotted two figures locked in fierce battle, one of them getting backed further and further toward the edge.

Redemption.

Santana ran faster.

~000~

Lauren sighed heavily at the text Artie had handed her. "How the hell did we miss this before?" She asked, sounding both frustrated and resigned.

"It's a little outside the box," Artie pointed out. "It might not even work."

"It would work," Lauren responded grimly. "Damn it."

Angel glanced over toward the door to the attic. Rachel was stationed on the other side, fending off attackers. "What's the problem?" he asked.

"We need Blaine, is the problem," Artie explained. "The spell would alter the Lehane bloodline just enough to make it useless in the ritual Albertson has planned, or any other ritual like it. It would completely preserve The Change."

"Didn't Blaine say he had family nearby?" Lauren asked, looking thoughtful. "I'm surprised Sylvester and Albertson haven't thought of that, actually."

"He's adopted," Angel replied. "And that's something Sue would probably know from his enrollment records." Angel's eyes drifted back toward the door.

"Well, fuck." Artie took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes.

Angel sighed. "Rachel's blood would work," he offered after a moment.

"It's a nice thought, but we can't just use any Slayer's bl-" Lauren began. Angel shook his head.

"I know. But Rachel's will. Can you just...trust me on this one?"

Lauren crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. "That's kind of a tall order given the circumstances," she replied.

"I know. But it really isn't my secret to tell, and we're wasting time."

"All right, what he hell. I'll try anything at this point," Lauren conceded, throwing her hands up. "But," she added, looking squarely at Jeremiah, "first things first."

~000~

Burt had managed to maneuver Tammy away from the attic window, but she had in turn managed to maneuver him far too close to the edge of the roof.

He barely even remembered making his way up there. He frankly couldn't believe that he was still alive. And if Tammy hadn't used so much magic up fighting Lauren, he almost definitely wouldn't be.

For an old guy with a bad heart, he could still hold his own in a hand-to-hand fight. Well, up to a point.

The truth was, Burt never expected to survive this battle. But this woman, or whatever she was, had tortured his son. Had planned to bleed him dry in order to make the world suffer. This woman was part of the political machine that kept his son vulnerable even outside the fold, a second-class citizen in society at large.

And Burt would be damned if she was going to be the one to kill him.

"You think you can stop this?" she hissed as Burt ducked a jab and managed to kick the small dagger she held out of her hand. "You think your ridiculous little band of misfits can even make a dent?"

"Yeah," Burt answered, dodging a stiletto to the eye. "You may have the government and half the council and god knows how many demon overlords in your back pocket, but we've got something you'll never have." He managed to kick Tammy in the knee, causing her to stumble backward slightly.

"What? Love?" Tammy sneered.

Burt gave her a bitter smile. "Truth," he replied. "The truth will always be on our side."

Tammy smiled back. "You want some truth?" she asked. "The truth is, you've got less than a minute to live."

Burt's eyes went wide as Tammy's hands glowed green, her fingernails extending and thickening into bright pink claws with needle-sharp tips. He took a step back, bringing him even closer to the edge of the roof.

"I believe the man just told you," came a voice from behind Tammy, "That the truth is on our side." Tammy whipped around just in time to see Santana's fist moving swiftly toward her, far too fast to avoid.

~000~

Brittany thrust her stake firmly into the heart of the vamp in front of her. He had been both broad and tall, which explained why she hadn't noticed Sue Sylvester standing directly behind him.

"Well, well," Sue said with a hard smile. "If it isn't the worst Slayer I have ever had the displeasure to try and educate in my twenty-nine years of life."

"Are you counting in dog years or something?" Brittany asked, cocking her head to the side. "Because I don't think you're doing it right."

"You know, I almost decided that I wasn't going to kill you. It would be kind of embarrassing, really, like killing a crippled child. But then I –excuse me," Sue snapped indignantly as Brittany aimed a kick at her midsection mid-insult. "I wasn't done!"

Brittany shrugged, dodging an uppercut. "You're mean and boring and I wanted to kick you."

Sue sighed. "Impulsivity always was one of your shortcomings, Miss Pierce. If I have taught you nothing else-"

"You taught me a lot, actually," Brittany said, her face growing serious. "You taught me to think about things that make me angry when I fight. You taught me to pretend the things I was killing were the people that have been mean to me. But with you, I don't have to pretend."

Sue moved quickly, but Brittany caught her fist before it could connect, and squeezed it hard. Sue's eyes widened with shock at the true extent of Brittany's strength.

"This," Brittany said, kneeing Sue hard enough in the stomach to momentarily knock the wind out of her, "is for making me brush the toilet with my tooth brush. And this-" Brittany took advantage of Sue's weakened state to flip the older woman over her shoulder and slam her to the ground "-is for making me sand down your plantar warts. And this-" Brittany drew her stake out of her belt and advanced on Sue. But as she moved to plunge the stake into Sue's heart, Sue's arm shot up to grab Brittany by the wrist. She pushed Brittany hard, sending her tumbling to the ground.

Both women leapt to their feet and began circling one another. "Blame me all you want, Goldilocks, but you really have nothing to blame but your own stupidity. If you'd been worth any Watcher's time-"

"I'm not stupid!" Brittany very nearly screamed. "I'm just different!" She lunged at Sue, her rage seeming to make her movements more crisp and precise rather than less, and she managed to strike several blows in a row while blocking each of Sue's.

Panting, Sue glared down at her. "It doesn't change the fact that no one wants you. Except the Council, that is, and they can't wait to lock you up."

"I want me," Brittany said simply, bringing her arm back and plunging the stake into Sue's heart so fast the movement was barely perceptible to the naked eye.

Sue froze, staring at Brittany as if seeing her for the first time before the light went out of her eyes completely. She didn't crumble to ashes – she wasn't a vampire, after all – but Brittany hadn't expected what did happen either.

Rather than simply falling to the ground, she seemed to almost melt, her skin sliding from her body, revealing organs, muscles and bones that almost glowed with how bright green they were. As her skin slid to the ground, the sound of sizzling grew louder and louder. Her bright green innards lost their shape and form, becoming a dark, sickly green and turning to jelly as they sunk down onto the pile of discarded clothing and flesh on the ground. The smell of decay grew so strong that Brittany very nearly gagged.

Brittany stared at the remnants of her former headmistress and wondered why she wasn't more surprised.

Behind Brittany, two vampires stopped in their tracks as they watched their former boss melt into a pile of rotting ooze before their eyes. Unlike Brittany, they were surprised.

They were still frozen in place when Brittany turned around. "Hey," she said with a smile, raising her stake. "I remember you guys!"

Tina and Quinn exchanged a meaningful glance and then turned and ran.

They didn't stop running until they reached the Lima city limits.

~000~

Rachel shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I can't believe that all you needed to prevent this whole mess was Slayer blood all along," she said, but held her arm out obediently so that Artie could sterilize her skin as Lauren prepared a syringe. "You...you are qualified to do this, right?"

"Qualified enough," Lauren said with a shrug, and smoothly inserted the needle into the crook of Rachel's elbow.

Rachel winced slightly but didn't flinch as Lauren drew the blood, moving to stand next to Angel once the syringe was full so that she could watch the others work.

"Really, though," Rachel stage-whispered to Angel (it seemed to be the only kind of whispering she was capable of) as she pressed a cotton ball to the wound. "I thought Lauren was supposed to be the best Witch in this part of the country. If all they needed was Slayer blood-"

"It's a very old text," Angel answered, ignoring Lauren's glare. "Very obscure. One of the volumes that was thought to be lost when the council was bombed before The Change. It's almost blind luck that Artie found it at all."

"Well, I certainly hope it works," Rachel replied, inspecting the inside of her elbow, where the wound was already mostly healed.

"You and me both," Lauren muttered, ignoring Angel's frown.

The spell itself took less time than anyone expected. Lauren's powers were still quite depleted, but she had successfully helped Jeremiah to sever Jesse's access to his mind, and with that problem resolved, he and Artie were able to provide the actual power for the spell while Lauren guided them.

"All right, now that part should be recited in Latin, and this clause should be in the tongue of the Last Lone Slayer. Which, luckily for us, is modern English. That should close the loophole you were concerned about, Artie."

Rachel and Angel looked on in fascination as a soft indigo light began to settle around Lauren and the two Warlocks, their chanted words soft, almost murmurs, until the last words rang louder and louder as they were repeated, the light around them growing darker and denser, making the air in the attic seem to crackle and spark with life.

"The blood of the last lone slayer now rests with her soul. The circle is closed. The blood of the last lone slayer now rests with her soul. The circle is closed. The circle is closed. The circle is closed."

A strong wind rushed through the attic, sending papers flying. The three inside the ring of indigo light began repeating the last phrase louder and louder, rising above the howling of the wind and the shaking of the floorboards until with one final cry of The circle is closed, the light exploded around them, filling the attic and shooting out into the night, shattering the one small window in the attic and shaking dust free from the wooden beams above them.

And just as quickly as it had happened, it was over. Lauren looked up from the text in front of her, breathing hard. "It worked," she said, giving Angel an incredulous look.

"Hells yes!" Artie cried out, fist-bumping a shocked Jeremiah.

~000~

Burt scrambled out of the way when Santana's blow sent Tammy stumbling backward toward him. Tammy made a noise that sounded far too much like an actual hiss for Burt's comfort, and she lunged at Santana, swiping at her face with freshly-sprouted claws.

Santana managed to dodge the claws and slam Tammy down, but stopped short with a scream of pain as Tammy dug the talons into the flesh of Santana's calf. Taking advantage of her position, Tammy kicked Santana hard in the ribs and slashed across her collarbones, blood flowing freely down her chest. Tammy leapt to her feet with unnatural grace, and Santana managed to shove her away roughly before she could get another swipe in. Tammy stumbled and then lunged, and Santana managed a high kick to her throat followed by a skillful dodge that probably kept her from getting her eyes clawed out.

Burt watched the two women with wide eyes. Santana wasn't letting Tammy hold still long enough to summon her magics, which was smart thinking – they were pretty evenly matched without it, given the claws, but if Santana let Tammy bring her powers into the mix, things would be ending pretty fast.

Tammy was about to land another bloody blow when a flash of indigo light erupted from the attic below them, audibly shattering the pretty stained glass attic window.

Burt couldn't help but grimace. Kurt loved that damn window.

Tammy's eyes went wide at the flash of light and she screamed with rage, her eyes flashing indigo and green, her body jerking as if experiencing some internal conflict.

"NO!" She screamed, clutching her head and apparently in pain. "No, no, no, no, no!"

Santana immediately lunged toward her, forcing Tammy to block a series of blows as Santana maneuvered the woman toward the edge of the roof.

"Why are you helping them?" Tammy demanded desperately once Santana had backed her to the very edge. "God did not create vampires tohelp sinners. You are here to cleanse the world of sin!"

"Well, if that is why I'm here, I guess I shouldn't feel bad about doing this," Santana replied, pulling Tammy's own discarded dagger from her belt and plunging it into the woman's heart before giving Tammy a firm push off the edge of the roof.

Tammy fell with a scream, catching two of her claws on the edge of Burt's pant leg on her way down.

Santana's eyes went wide as both Burt and Tammy tumbled over the edge. She ran to the edge of the roof, relief flooding her veins when she spotted Burt's fingers curled over the edge of the gutter that sat just under the roof.

Tammy lay crumpled on the ground far below.

"Itzamna, Burt, you scared the shit out of me," Santana said, reaching down to take Burt's hand and pull him to safety.

Burt looked up at her through unsoftened eyes, tightening his grip on the gutter. "What are you doing?"

"I'm – just take my hand, okay?"

"Like hell am I going to accept any help from you." How Burt was managing to look that proud and stubborn, even as his grip began to slip ever so slightly, Santana couldn't even begin to understand.

"Damn it, Kalderash, falling to your death will prove nothing, not to me or anyone else. What do you think Kurt would want you to do? What-" Santana paused, willing her voice not to shake. "What would Elizabeth want you to do?"

Burt glared up at her for a long moment before finally prying one hand from the edge of the gutter and allowing Santana to pull him to safety.

Once back on his feet, Burt took a deep breath and looked Santana squarely in the eye.

"I know you don't forgive me," she said softly before Burt could open his mouth. "And I know you probably never will. I'm not asking you to. But...I owe you and Kurt, and I'm done running away from you just because of how much it hurts to think about what I did. I killed your wife, I killed your son's mother, and nothing I will ever do can make that okay. But...saving your life was a start. It's the least I can do. And I am...I know it doesn't mean anything, but I am sorry."

Burt studied her thoughtfully. "You know, that's the first time you've ever admitted to being the one that killed Lizzie."

Santana nodded, unable to meet Burt's eyes any longer. "I know."

"You're right about the forgiveness part. I don't know that I'll ever be able to get there. But...thank you, Santana."

Santana bit her lip and tried not to let him see how much his words affected her. That simple thank you had felt better than anything she had experienced in a good many years.

~000~

Jesse St. James watched Tammy Jean Albertson's body land on the ground with a sharp thud. He poked his head out from behind the bushes where he had been hiding and glanced around nervously.

Things weren't looking good.

He hadn't counted on the skill level of those they were fighting, especially without the boy Slayer and his Watcher to contend with. No one was giving up any information that might help them find the boy, and the bodies that littered the ground were more demon than human. The lawn was also getting quite dusty.

On top of all that, there had been some discussion of Rachel in the attic, that her blood might be used to block the possibility of the ritual. But then Jeremiah had (probably with Lauren's assistance) managed to sever Jesse's connection before he could figure out how on earth thatwas going to work.

And now Jesse had a massive headache, and his one ticket out of this life of subservience and mediocrity was lying motionless in the grass.

Jesse gave another quick look around before running over to Tammy to see if she was actually as bad off as she looked. He couldn't help but wince as he approached her; her blouse was soaked with blood, a dagger buried in her heart. Not only that, but her head was lying at a disturbing angle, her neck quite clearly broken. With a heavy sigh, Jesse knelt in front of her, leaning closer to inspect the damage. Maybe if he-

Tammy opened her eyes.

~000~

When the group convened in the tattered remains of the Hummel-Hudson living room, it was with hearts too heavy to truly appreciate their victory.

How could they celebrate, after all, when they hadn't even gotten the chance to bury their dead?

The death count for their side was small but profound. Emma was absolutely inconsolable over the death of Will, while Rachel appeared to simply be in shock, as if the fact that her Watcher truly had been a mortal man was simply too much for her to process. The pack had also sustained a few losses, Mike Chang among them.

Santana had disappeared soon after the fight ended. She knew she wouldn't be invited inside.

Grief can cloud the vision of even the most astute warriors. As they sat together, somberly discussing what needed to happen next, no one at all seemed to notice that Tammy Albertson's body was nowhere to be found.

~000~

Kurt groaned, burrowing into the warmth of Blaine's neck as the morning sun hit his eyes.

Blaine hummed sleepily, moving his hand to lightly run his fingers through Kurt's hair. Or at least that was the plan.

"Hey!" Came Kurt's muffled cry of protest when Blaine accidentally smacked him in the face instead.

"Sorry," Blaine muttered sleepily, prying his eyes open and looking around him.

Kurt laughed softly, shifting back so that he could see Blaine properly from where he lay. "S'okay. I had the strangest dream."

Blaine made a questioning noise, moving onto his side to properly face Kurt.

"Yeah, it's...I don't even know how to explain it. It was so strange and, you know, dream-y. But I think – I think it was about Angel's curse. And you. And the prophecy."

"Mmmm," Blaine replied, stretching. "A witch's curse that blends dark with light, demon with champion, shall decide the fate of the world."

Kurt's eyes widened and he spoke the remainder of the prophecy along with Blaine: "The final rift is healed from the blood of two vampires, wombs of three Slayers, the power of the first demons to roam the Earth. A man amongst women. Innocent. As death begins the curse, a fertile love ends it. As she who could not hold his love is vindicated, a soul is awarded, and justice will bloom anew."

"The prophecy," Kurt said softly.

"The prophecy," Blaine agreed. "I don't exactly know what it means, but I can't help but feel like it's a good thing."

Kurt nodded. "It felt...it was like I could feel the whole world shifting. Like the whole world was shifting because of us."

Blaine grinned. "See? I told you we should have gotten together sooner."

Kurt rolled his eyes and smacked Blaine gently on the chest.

"Hey," Blaine said, catching Kurt's hand between their bodies and lacing their fingers together. He kissed Kurt's knuckles and smiled at him. "I love you."

Kurt's smile in return was nothing short of brilliant. "I love you too. But do you love me enough to kiss me even though I've got horrible morning breath?"

"Absolutely," Blaine confirmed, grinning into a lingering kiss, their bodies slotting together instinctively.

They broke apart when a soft breeze began ruffling their hair, and Blaine looked up in wonder as a swirl of translucent butterflies fluttered around them. Kurt laughed softly.

"That's a signal from my father. It's the all-clear signal. "

"So it's safe to go back?"

"Yeah," Kurt said, running his hand up Blaine's chest. "But I'm not in any hurry."

"Me neither," Blaine agreed, pulling Kurt even closer. Because the rest of the world could definitely wait.