The Source of Our Power: Chapter 4

Dear Blaine,

I think Kurt likes you. But you have to be nice to him. I don't feel like people have always been nice to him. I had a dream about him last week and he was a little boy and he was crying because none of the other little boys would play with him. It was really sad.

I have a new roommate but I think she's strange. She never trains with us and she spends lots of time in the labs with the witches. I threw her a box of animal crackers the other day and she didn't even catch it. It hit her in the eye and she got mad at me.

I don't think she's a Slayer and I don't know why she's here.

I asked Ms. Sylvester about it yesterday and she made me clean her toilet with my toothbrush. And then she made me brush my teeth. Her toilet water is blue so I thought maybe it would taste like that blue Kool-Aid, but it doesn't.

Blue toilet water tastes bad, Blaine. Like, really bad. Don't ever put your toothbrush in it.

I miss you. You're my best friend, and I don't like being away from you. Things feel weird here and something bad is going to happen soon, but whenever I talk to anyone else about it they just tell me I'm crazy.

Maybe I am crazy.

I'm going to try to do better in class so I can talk to you on the computer. I like watching you smile because it makes me smile too.

Smile, Blaine. You're a real Slayer now, and you have a nice family to live with, and you're fighting evil for money. I'm proud of you.

Love,

Brittany

xoxo

P.S. I dreamt about my vampire lover last night. I think I might have caught gay from you, but I don't care because she's really pretty. I hope I get to meet her soon. Maybe if I bring my camera to bed with me tonight I can send you a picture.

Being the newest Slayer in western Ohio meant that Blaine got stuck with some of the least sought-after tasks on the Slayer roster.

After living with the Hummels for almost two weeks, the full moon was upon them and Blaine was assigned to werewolf patrol at the Puckerman estate.

Blaine was familiar with werewolf history, particularly over the past hundred years, from his classes at the Sylvester School. It used to be that most werewolves either roamed free, posing a threat to society, or thrashed about in cages, causing long-term mental and emotional problems, when the moon was full. When the Council began to reorganize itself after The Change, the issue of how to handle werewolves was a complicated one. They weren't demons; they were living mortal creatures with souls. They were, essentially, still human. But the danger had to be contained.

As the conversation continued, several strong, charismatic werewolves emerged as leaders and advocates for their kind. They began organizing themselves into packs, a practice that had been lost for centuries. Soon they allied themselves with the council and established territories in which they could roam free and safe during their change.

The Puckerman estate was one such territory. Eliza Puckerman was a wealthy widow whose only son had been bitten at a young age. She had taken it upon herself to see that he have the best life a young werewolf could have, and she had spared no expense. The Wolf Park was about three hundred acres of lush forest and grassy meadows, located on the outskirts of Lima. On the three nights surrounding the full moon each month, every werewolf within traveling distance would be there.

Including Finn.

It hadn't exactly come as a surprise; Kurt's constant threats and jokes concerning silver bullets and silver knives and basically all manner of injury to Finn's person with silver weaponry of any kind had tipped Blaine off, as had Finn's increasingly agitated mood as the full moon approached.

At first Blaine couldn't understand why it was such an unpopular assignment. Werewolf tracking and suppression had been one of his favorite assignments at school. It was an opportunity to practice his Slayer skills without actually killing anything.

By one o'clock that morning he understood perfectly.

The Wolf Park was surrounded by a three-foot-thick brick wall that was easily fifty feet high. The entirety of the Puckerman Estate was well-equipped with trained guards toting tranquilizer guns. Blaine's job was essentially just to be there as back-up in case the shit really hit the fan.

And apparently, the shit never hit the fan.

And if the boredom wasn't bad enough, Kurt was trying to make him learn to read in some fucked-up demon language that hurt his eyes to look at for more than thirty seconds at a time.

The wolves, on the other hand, sounded like they were having the time of their lives.

Blaine let his head fall back against the wall with a heavy thunk. He groaned and glanced over at Kurt. Kurt was absorbed in his own book, and didn't look up from it until he felt Blaine's stare heavy on his neck.

He sighed.

"Yes, Blaine?" Kurt asked, carefully inserting his bookmark before closing the volume.

"This sucks."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Yes, well, I told you it was an unpopular assignment."

"Not that. This." Blaine gestured to the book in his lap. "It isn't making any more sense than it did an hour ago, and it's starting to give me a migraine."

Kurt sighed heavily and leaned his head back against the wall as well, turning to face Blaine.

"Blaine, pushing through the discomfort is the only way you'll ever learn to read Kaaruguin. Once you achieve the proper level of concentration and receptivity it should arrange itself into something that makes sense to you."

"Kind of like a magic eye book created by sadistic demons in a hell dimension?"

"Actually, that's not a bad analo-"

"Kurt."

"Blaine." Kurt mirrored his impatient tone.

"Can we put the books down, maybe have a conversation?"

Kurt shrugged and carefully placed his book into Blaine's backpack, which sat between them on the ground. "All right. What do you want to talk about?"

Blaine gave a deep sigh of relief, putting his book back in the bag along with Kurt's. He smiled.

"Tell me about yourself."

Kurt cocked an eyebrow.

Blaine wrapped his arms around himself defensively and stared at his feet.

"Come on, Kurt," he muttered softly. "We're supposed to have, like, a relationship here. Isn't that the whole point of me living with you and your family? We can't be willing to take risks and die for one another if it comes down to it if we're no more than colleagues. We're supposed to bond. Or at least...that's what they taught me at school anyway." Blaine felt his cheeks flush at the naked admission, and began fiddling with a blade of grass. He could feel Kurt's eyes on him.

"Blaine, do you not...you know that you have six weeks to reject your assignment before your contract officially begins. Are you saying that maybe this isn't..."

"Damn it, Kurt!" Blaine snapped, surprising himself with both his tone and volume. Several wolves howled nearby as if in response. When he turned to look at Kurt again, he was staring at Blaine and looking pretty surprised himself.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, forcing himself into a semblance of calm. Blaine knew his temper could sometimes get away from him if he didn't reel himself in in time. "I just...God, you're so cold, Kurt. I barely know anything about you. I mean, your Dad practically treats me like I'm his Slayer outside of training and studying, and all you do is-"

"Well, I'm sorry but the great Burt Hummel is retired, so I'm afraid you'll just have to settle for me," Kurt snapped.

Blaine stared at him for a moment before allowing his lips to curl into a partial smile.

"Ah."

Kurt narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"Well, at least this is a start. So you're afraid you won't live up to your father. That's definitely a start."

Kurt rolled his eyes and muttered something to himself. Blaine didn't catch anything outside of the word "ridiculous."

"All right, fine," Blaine continued. "I'll tell you some things about myself, maybe that will help. You haven't expressed an interest, sadly, but I'm going to tell you anyway."

Kurt opened his mouth as if to argue, but Blaine cut him off quickly, increasing his volume slightly.

"I'm gay. Did you know that?"

Kurt shrugged. "Yes."

Blaine stared at him. "Oh. You did? Most people tell me I'm not that obvious at first. I mean, not that there's anything wrong-"

"I know a lot about you," Kurt explained. "I've done my research. I'm not just going to take any old Slayer, and especially not a controversial Slayer, without knowing what I'm getting myself into."

"All right," Blaine rolled his shoulders. "What have you gotten yourself into then?"

"Pardon?"

"Tell me what you know about me."

Kurt gave him the slightest hint of a smile. "Well. I know you used to go to Dalton Academy. I know you were sent there because you were being tormented in public school and your parents could afford it. Which makes you very lucky, by the way. I know that you barely speak to your parents, and they don't approve of your sexual orientation. Or the fact that you're a Slayer, for that matter. I know that you've had a rough time of it at the Sylvester School, and you were treated like an outsider. I know that you were one of the top three students in your class academically, both at Dalton and the Sylvester School."

Blaine raised his eyebrows. He knew that was true of him at Dalton, but he was fairly sure that Kurt was sorely mistaken about his performance at Slayer school.

"Your grades may not have been at the top of the class, but I know that you were not graded fairly, because sadly your teachers at the Sylvester School had their judgment clouded by their own prejudices and presumptions. But I asked Sue for records of your work before I took you on, Blaine, and if you had been a girl you'd have the best Watchers in the country clawing each other's eyes out to take you on. You're an excellent fighter but you rely too much on your raw strength and some of your other capabilities are underdeveloped as a result. But you are a very quick learner. And..." Kurt looked like he was going to leave it there, but then he continued, tripping over his words slightly.

"And...well, you seem like a genuinely good person. A kind soul. I may be a cold, heartless bitch, Blaine, but I tend to read people very well."

"Hey, I never said you were a heartless bi-"

"No," Kurt cut him off with a sigh. "But I suppose you struck a nerve anyhow."

Blaine simply stared at him.

"I'm gay too, you know," Kurt added after a moment of silence.

Blaine forced himself to suppress a smile.

"Oh...um, really?" He asked, trying his hardest to feign shock. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Oh, knock it off. I know I probably didn't even need to tell you, you've got eyes and ears, after all. I just figured that...well, since you told me..."

Kurt's arms were hanging over his bent knees, and he brought his hands together, interlacing his fingers. He stared at his hands as if they were the most fascinating things he'd ever seen.

"It hasn't been easy for me either, you know," Kurt continued softly. "I know what it's like, not to fit in anywhere. People were horrible to me at school, and the Council certainly wasn't going to pay for private school. It's a big part of why I pushed so hard to become a Watcher so early. I got my G.E.D. When I was seventeen so I could start Watcher training. Or at least that's what I told people."

"You...didn't want to be a Watcher?"

Kurt snapped his head up. "Of course I did. Actually, if you must know, I wanted to be a Slayer. But my mother disabused me of that notion quite early on. My parents' Slayers let me train with them, though. They taught me a few things."

Blaine smirked. "A few things? They taught you enough to put an arrogant Slayer in his place, I'd say that's more than a few things."

Kurt allowed himself a small smile. Blaine felt a tingle of pleasure race through him at the tiny treat that was a grin on his Watcher's face.

Kurt cleared his throat slightly and looked back down at his hands again, something very much like a slight blush seeming to color his cheeks. Blaine studied him for a moment before he realized what Kurt had said.

"Wait- your mother was a Watcher too?"

Kurt paused for a moment before responding. "Yeah. She was. Right up until the end."

Blaine opened his mouth to respond, when the walkie-talkie on his hip crackled to life.

"Slayer to gate seven. We have a breach. I repeat, we have a breach."

"Shit," Kurt muttered, jumping to his feet. He grabbed one of the tranq guns and tossed Blaine the other. They began walking quickly toward the gate.

Before long the voice on the other end of the walkie-talkie returned, sounding more panicked.

"Damn it, hurry! Man down! MAN DOWN!"

"We're on our way!" Blaine called into the device before he and Kurt broke into a run. As they got closer to the gate, they began to hear yelling, growling yelping and the unmistakable firing of tranquilizer guns. Blaine was so focused on getting to the gate that he almost didn't notice the large shape out of the corner of his eye, barreling directly toward Kurt.

Blaine had the wolf by the hindquarters just as it crashed down on top of Kurt, his Watcher falling to the ground with a scream. Blaine managed to wrench the creature away entirely before tossing Kurt his gun.

Hand-to-hand with a werewolf was not an easy task, but there was no way Blaine would have been able to get a decent shot at such a close range. He managed to land a roundhouse kick into the wolf's gut, gaining some temporary distance.

The creature snarled, flattening its ears and circling Blaine slowly. Blaine moved in sync with its movements, attuning himself to the wolf's movements, its stare, the feral energy rolling off of it.

He heard Kurt cock the gun.

The wolf heard it too.

Blaine dove for the animal as it started moving back toward Kurt, pinning it to the ground as it writhed and snarled, teeth snapping dangerously close to Blaine's exposed throat. He heard Kurt swearing under his breath at the missed opportunity for a clean shot.

It would have been so much easier if Blaine could just hurt the werewolf. But this was a human being – this could possibly even be Finn – who didn't know what he or she was doing. Werewolf suppression was delicate work, even more delicate still when there was another person to defend.

Blaine managed to gain some traction, and he leapt to his feet so that he was squarely between the wolf and Kurt. Off in the distance was more yelling and howling, and panicked-sounding nonsense was spewing from the walkie talkie that had fallen off Blaine's belt earlier in the scuffle.

Blaine kept his eyes open, but he breathed in deep. What had Kurt told him last week? Chess. Sometimes it was like chess. Blaine had rolled his eyes and figured that Kurt just wanted an excuse to play chess with Blaine in the middle of the afternoon instead of studying or training, but suddenly it made a lot of sense. Blaine considered his strategic options.

Kurt had the gun.

Kurt was also still on the ground, which could mean he was injured.

There were more wolves at the gate, people seemed to be in distress, and they had to put this wolf down fast before more surrounded them.

"You should always be thinking at least three moves ahead, Anderson," Kurt had said smugly after winning his fourth straight game.

Blaine turned around to face Kurt. Kurt's ankle looked twisted unnaturally, and his pale face was shining with cold sweat. His arms were shaking slightly as he tried to hold the tranq gun steady.

Kurt's eyes widened. "Blaine-"

Without moving a single other muscle in his body, Blaine kicked one leg back hard, slamming the heel of his boot into the wolf's snout hard enough to hear a sickening crunch. The human inside might be stuck with a broken nose, but that would just have to be collateral damage at this point. The animal yelped and staggered backward. Blaine flew forward and reached for the gun, which Kurt tossed to him without being told. Blaine turned swiftly and fired two tranquilizer darts into the wolf's side before throwing the gun down and scooping Kurt up into his arms. He heard the wolf hit the ground as he reached a large oak tree.

"Kurt can you- are you all right?" Blaine asked, setting him down gently at the base of the tree.

"Yeah. Yes. I just- I hurt my ankle when it landed on me, but I should be fine."

Blaine crouched down in front of him and turned, presenting Kurt with his back.

"Climb on."

"What?" Blaine could almost hear Kurt raising an eyebrow critically behind him.

"Climb on. Hurry, Kurt, I need to get to the gate. But first I need to get you somewhere safe, and I figure up there is as good a place as any." Blaine gestured to the tree.

Kurt was silent. Just as Blaine was gearing up to insist some more, he felt Kurt's arms wrap around his neck They were still shaking a little, but he managed a firm grip regardless. Blaine reached back and hoisted Kurt up as he stood.

"Wrap your legs around me," he instructed. "Tight." Kurt did so, and Blaine leapt up to grab hold of a low-hanging branch.

If he had been on his own he easily could have swung branch to branch, nimble as a monkey, but he couldn't risk dropping Kurt, so he moved carefully. He tried not to think too much about how impressive Kurt's thigh muscles were, to be gripping against his sides like that while Blaine climbed steadily higher.

When Blaine had located a branch that seemed thick enough to be comfortable and high enough to be safe, he eased Kurt onto it.

"Well, wolves can't climb trees, so you should be all right up here. Just...try to blend into the tree, I suppose. I'll be back for you as soon as I can."

Kurt nodded and gave him an enigmatic smile. Blaine quickly began scurrying toward the ground.

"Blaine?" Kurt called, just as Blaine was on the last leg of his descent.

"Yeah?"

"That was some quick thinking. I'm impressed."

Blaine dropped to the ground and looked up at Kurt, smiling. He didn't even care that it was probably one of the biggest, silliest grins that Kurt had ever laid eyes on.

Blaine took off toward Gate seven as fast as he could after retrieving his tranq gun and walkie talkie. The yelling and howling and yelping had actually died down, replaced by a stillness that made Blaine's gut scream with panic.

Blaine approached the gate cautiously, his back pressed firmly to the wall. He moved as noiselessly as he possibly could.

The gate was shut.

There were bodies littering the ground in front of it, but the heavy iron gate was firmly and irrefutably closed. Blaine furrowed his brow. Nothing about this made any sense.

The bodies on the ground were both human and wolf. Blaine knelt down to inspect them.

There were five humans and two wolves. And they were dead, all of them. There was a fair amount of blood, and some of the humans looked a bit mauled, but there was something else.

Blaine gingerly pushed the hair away from a female guard's neck. He had never dealt with death like this before, though he had known it would only be a matter of time. He felt oddly detached, though a hard ball of something dripping with fear and sadness and anger sat heavy in his chest. It sat there as if dormant, and he knew that when (if) he was back in his room, snuggled under the blankets and nestled deeply in the illusion of safety once again, it would open like a toxic flower and let pain and guilt flow through him.

But now was not that time. Now his nerves were thrumming with focus and precision.

And now it was sinking in that this woman had not been killed by a werewolf. Blaine saw the two distinct marks on her neck revealing the true culprit.

But how had the wolves gotten out? What had-

Kurt.

Oh, God.

If there was a vampire around – or, by the looks of it, more than one vampire, Kurt would hardly be safe in a fucking tree. In fact, it would only serve to make him all the more deliciously helpless. Blaine cursed his own stupidity.

Blaine was back on his feet in a flash. His only thought was getting to Kurt, but his hand whipped out instinctively and caught a pale, slender wrist just as it made a grab for him.

Blaine whipped around to face the owner of the arm. He would have known she was a vampire even if her wrist hadn't been ice-cold and lacking a pulse.

She was beautiful, really. She had delicate features, a pale complexion, shoulder-length blonde hair and eyes like green ice. She was dressed beautifully but conservatively, a small gold heart on a delicate chain around her neck.

She looked as sweet as poisoned pie.

She struggled against Blaine's grip, looking more puzzled than concerned.

"Interesting," she murmured. She looked Blaine in the eye and smiled like sunshine. "What's with the strong grip, pretty thing? Were you afraid I was going to hurt you?"

"I was afraid that the thing that killed all these people might be coming back for more. Turns out I was right."

She laughed sweetly before calling out, "Tina, sweetie, you have to come see this. Dinner's talking back and it's just adorable."

Kurt sat nervously on his branch.

Something wasn't right, he just knew it.

He could hear the telltale sounds of werewolves howling and barking, but the sounds seemed to be coming from the enclosure as always. Closer to where he sat, leaves rustled in the wind and owls sang their low, haunting songs. But there were no voices. No more commotion.

Something wasn't right.

And Blaine had run off alone because Kurt had managed to get himself hurt. Blaine, who was fresh out of school and only two weeks into his training. Blaine, who Kurt should be with right now instead of sitting in this tree like a helpless child.

Kurt sighed and fumbled in his pocket for his phone. He frowned when his fingers didn't close around the ear-clip. He must have lost it when the wolf attacked him. Fabulous.

He let his head fall back against the rough trunk of the tree and sighed loudly. This was supposed to just be routine werewolf patrol. It was supposed to be a boring night. And he and Blaine had started talking and it had been...

Kurt smiled to himself for the briefest moment before his face settled back into a frown. He had let Blaine down. The very first tenet of the Watcher credo was keep your Slayer safe. The second was, Never let your guard down and always be prepared.

Kurt sighed again, his frustration at his own incompetence growing.

Beneath him he heard a soft chuckle.

Kurt froze, but let his gaze travel down to the grass below.

A cold jolt of terror raced through his veins, and Kurt gripped at a small branch beside him to keep from losing his balance and plummeting to the ground.

Because looking up at him was the source of more nightmares than Kurt could count.

Looking up at him was the one being that Kurt feared more than any demon, werewolf, or creature of otherworldly power that he had ever conceived or encountered.

Another chuckle. Kurt felt like he was going to either vomit or pass out. Possibly both.

"Hey Hummel," David Karofsky said, looking up at Kurt with a cold, hungry smirk. "How's tricks?"