The Source of Our Power: Chapter 6

By the time Rachel dropped them off, Kurt was angry. He bid Rachel a quick, sharp goodbye before slamming the car door behind himself and hobbling toward the door to the house as fast as he could manage with his hospital-issue aluminum cane. Blaine thanked her with an apologetic smile before hurrying after Kurt to help him.

Kurt had not wanted to go to the hospital. Unfortunately, the two uninjured Slayers in the car with him had had other ideas.

"Look- do you want- your ankle seems pretty bad, Kurt. If I just carried you-"

"I'm fine," Kurt snapped, trying to disguise his wince of pain.

Blaine sighed and wrapped an arm around Kurt's waist to support him. "Here. Let me at least-"

"Keep your hands off me!" Kurt shrieked, spinning out of Blaine's grip and then stumbling. He gave a loud cry as he started to fall, and Blaine caught him.

"Kurt I'm not- you're hurt. Please. You've got to let me help you."

"I'm fine," Kurt insisted again, his voice shaking. But he didn't push Blaine away this time, instead leaning on him heavily as they shuffled toward the front door.

Burt was standing in the door, white-faced and stricken, before they even got to the porch. As soon as they reached him he pulled Kurt into a tight, rough hug.

"OW! Dad...my shoulder..." Kurt's words were muffled against Burt's chest. Blaine saw a hint of tears in the man's eyes.

"Sorry." Burt pulled back slightly and touched Kurt's sling gently. "I just got off the phone with Scheuster. Thank God you're okay. Thank God he had sense enough to send back-up for your first assignment. I should have...I'm just so damn glad you boys are okay." Burt looked up and met Blaine's eyes then, and Blaine began to lower his gaze, shame creeping over him. He had almost gotten Burt's only child killed. What if Burt didn't want Blaine living there anymore? What if he wanted Kurt to get a real Slayer instead of an imposter? What if-

Blaine gave a slight yelp of surprise as Burt reached out one of his arms and pulled Blaine to him as well, knocking Blaine awkwardly into Kurt's uninjured shoulder in the process.

When Burt finally pulled back, Kurt sighed and shuffled forward, allowing both Blaine and his father to help him. They moved into the living room, and Burt eased Kurt into the recliner that was generally reserved for Burt himself. He propped Kurt's ankle up on an ottoman and studied him critically.

"It sounds like you had a pretty bad scare there, bud."

Kurt sighed. "No. I'm fine. Really, Dad. I think Rachel must have exaggerated the story for dramatic effect- you know how she is."

Burt frowned. "It wasn't just Rachel, Kurt. I spoke to Mrs. Puckerman as well. She's the one that assured me that Finn wasn't among the casualties."

Blaine let out a sigh, remembering when she had confirmed that for them as well before they left the estate. Once able to speak properly, Kurt had insisted on staying until they knew for sure that Finn was all right. Oddly, Rachel seemed just as determined, and her sigh of relief was almost overwhelming to behold when she heard that Finn remained safe inside the enclosure.

"Well, I'm fine," Kurt insisted. "It was just a vampire, Dad."

Burt eyed him skeptically. "Well, it sounded pretty bad to me. All I have to say is thank god Blaine was there."

"Yes, I would have suffered the indignity of a properly aligned shoulder if it weren't for Blaine," Kurt said, his voice pure ice. He turned his gaze to Blaine, and Blaine shivered when he saw that Kurt's eyes matched his tone. "Thanks for that, by the way."

Blaine gaped at him. "Kurt, I was trying to save you from-"

"I didn't need your help!" Kurt screamed.

Blaine was incredulous. "Kurt, he was biting you!"

Kurt closed his eyes. "Blaine, just...shut up. Just shut up and leave me alone," Kurt said, quiet and cool.

Blaine bit his lip and felt tears prickling behind his eyes and he didn't know what to do or say. His anger was battling his hurt, and it just felt like Kurt had squeezed all the blood out of his heart.

Suddenly, he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

"Blaine," Carole said, her voice gentle and warm. Blaine hadn't even noticed her come in. "I think Burt may need a moment with his son. Why don't we go sit down in the kitchen, have some tea, and just try to relax?" Burt glanced over and gave Blaine an apologetic smile, and Blaine smiled back at him shyly before allowing Carole to lead him to the kitchen.

When they reached the kitchen, Blaine instantly urged Carole to sit at the table while he busied himself preparing the tea. He put the kettle on, and went to the cupboard where the teas were kept.

"What would you like?" He asked.

"Camomile would be lovely, Blaine, thanks. And help yourself."

A few minutes later, Blaine walked back to the table with two steaming mugs of chamomile tea. He sat down beside Carole and stared into his cup.

"Kurt hates me," he heard himself blurt out before he could stop.

Carole reached across the table and placed her hand gently on top of Blaine's. "Sweetie, of course he doesn't." She sighed at Blaine's miserable expression. "Let me guess. Something happened, and Kurt ended up terrified and helpless and so you helped him, and then before you know it he's spitting venom at you like you did something wrong."

Blaine stared at her. "How did you..."

Carole laughed, squeezing his hand. "Sweetie, that's just Kurt. He spent a lot of his life being bullied and picked on, and there were always stronger and more powerful people swooping in to save him. It's a sore spot for him. He put a lot of time and energy into learning how to fight back, and when he feels like he's being put in his place, like he's back in high school, it just does a number on him."

High School.

"The vampire that had Kurt...he said he knew Kurt. From before. He said he knew him from high school."

Carole stared at him. "Do you remember his name?"

"Um...Dave? The others were just calling him Dave."

"Dave..." Carole murmured. She rolled her eyes upward, searching her memory.

"He..." Blaine swallowed and shifted uncomfortably. "He, um, seemed pretty interested in Kurt." Carole looked at him in question.

Blaine sighed. "I mean...romantically. Or, uh...s-sexually." Oh God, this could not get more awkward.

Carole's eyes widened. "Not Karofsky. Was he a big guy? Tall? Built like a football player?"

Blaine nodded.

"Oh, God, Kurt," Carole gasped. She leapt to her feet and ran out the kitchen door. By the time Blaine reached the living room Kurt was once again yelping in pain as Carole threw her arms around him.

"Oh sweetie, you must have been so...did he do anything to you? Did he...oh, Kurt, sweetheart, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Kurt muttered, much of the fight from earlier gone from his voice. "It was just a vampire, Carole, I don't know why everyone keeps-"

"Kurt. It was Karofsky, wasn't it?"

There is no point in trying to deny it, not after Kurt's intense visceral reaction to Carole's question. He pulled back from her sharply, his face draining of color and his eyes wild.

"Fuck!" Burt belted out, standing up sharply from his kneeling position beside Kurt. "That son of a- so he got vamped and now he's coming back for you? That goddamn-"

"Burt," Carole said, her voice a soft warning as she glanced at Kurt's horror-struck face.

"No. I'm- I'm sorry, son, I know how horrible this must be for you, but I thought we'd been through this before. You told me you weren't going to withhold stuff like this from me anymore. No more, Kurt. This ends."

Kurt looked up at his father and bit his lip.

Burt began to pace, rubbing his face. "All right. Well, there is one good thing about that bastard getting turned. Now we can kill the motherfucker like I always wanted to."

"Burt." This time Carole's tone was a bit more forceful.

Burt sighed deeply. "Sorry. I just...all right, Blaine. Now, I know I'm not your Watcher, but your number one priority right now is to find this vamp and destroy him. I'll call Scheuster and Bieste, get them to send their Slayers too. This is it. He is not going to cause this family any more pain."

Blaine glanced at Kurt for confirmation. As much as he wanted to destroy this vamp, based both on what he had seen tonight and what he was gathering from Burt's tirade, Kurt was still his Watcher. And no matter how unreasonable Kurt might be behaving, he didn't want Kurt to send him back to school or unload him on another Watcher. He wanted Kurt.

Kurt sighed and gave Blaine a slight nod. "He's right," Kurt said softly. "I...to be honest, I don't think I'll be able to sleep until he's dead. And I know that might make me weak, but-"

Burt, Carole and Blaine's voices tripped over one another in their haste to object to Kurt's statement.

Kurt shook his head and laughed slightly. Blaine felt his shoulders relax noticeably.

"All right. Where do we start?" Blaine asked. "I can start tonight. I'm really not tired. And I bet someone around here has seen them. They're a fairly noticeable trio."

Kurt stared at Blaine like he'd grown an extra head. "You can't be serious. Blaine, it's four o'clock in the morning."

"So?"

"So, you're exhausted, whether you've let yourself realize it or not, and no one's going to get out of bed to answer your questions about strangers in Lima, and you can't take on three vampires alone. Not yet. Shall I continue?"

Blaine scowled. "No," he muttered. "I just...I feel so fucking useless right now."

"tell me about it," Kurt muttered, lifting his cane dramatically.

Burt seemed to have calmed down a bit and had finally stopped pacing. "Well, for a start, why don't you tell us about the other two vamps? That would probably help."

Blaine shrugged. "They were female, both of them. One was white and blonde and I'm pretty sure the other was Korean. They were both small, both pretty. Seemed old. I mean, their power felt old. Especially the Korean."

Burt nodded, a strange look in his eyes. "Did you catch names?"

"The blonde one went by Quinn. The other was called Tina."

Blaine sensed the shift in the room before it happened. Carole gasped, eyes wide and a hand flying over her mouth.

Blaine didn't catch Burt's expression. But he was quick enough to catch him when he fell.

The commotion that had followed left Blaine even more confused and restless than he had been already. Burt had recovered from his fall and started wildly attempting to convince everyone to pack a bag and get into the car. Blaine couldn't understand much of what he was saying, but the words new life and new identities were thrown into the mix more than once. Carole had had to essentially force Burt to take a sedative while Kurt pleaded with him about his heart. After he had calmed down as much as it seemed like he was capable, Carole led him upstairs to their bedroom, insisting that he needed sleep, and that we can discuss new identities in the morning, Burt.

Blaine was left sitting on the living room couch, stunned, staring at Kurt in the recliner to his left. Kurt was frowning in concentration.

Blaine didn't even know where to start. All he knew was that there were a lot of secrets in this house, and nothing seemed simple.

"Blaine?"

Blaine blinked, and looked at Kurt. He was looking at Blaine almost nervously.

Kurt fiddled with the handle of his cane. "Blaine, I- I'm sorry. The way I behaved earlier was inexcusable, and you didn't deserve that."

"I really didn't," Blaine agreed, but he kept his tone gentle. He really wasn't angry anymore, just confused and hurt.

Kurt sighed. "I know. I was just- I was so angry at myself for letting things spin out of control like that, for not being prepared, for not-"

"Kurt, it wasn't your fault."

Kurt quirked his mouth into a half-smile, but his eyes were sad.

"Blaine, it really kind of was." His tone was firm but kind. "You handled yourself beautifully. You thought on your feet, you maintained focus, you- you saved my life."

"Only because Rachel Berry showed up," Blaine muttered, looking at his feet.

"Yes, we are very lucky that happened, a fact that I am sure Rachel will absolutely never allow us to forget. But if I had done a better job preparing you, you wouldn't have needed to rely on Rachel. And that was- it would have been difficult to prepare for something like that entirely. It wasn't as if there were some random vamps at the Wolf Park. They planned this, Blaine."

Blaine looked up at him. "But why?"

Kurt chewed his lip. "Well, I'm not entirely sure. But I think..." Kurt paused to give Blaine a hard look. "Blaine, you've only been with us for a little while. Normally I wouldn't be telling you any...sensitive information at least until you'd finalized your contract."

"Kurt, I'll sign it right now. I want...I want to stay with you. I don't want another Watcher. You don't have to tell me anything yet if you'd rather not, but I- I want you to know that I'm definitely staying."

Kurt's smile was slightly shy. "Well, I'm certainly pleased to hear that, but now I think it's my turn to ask you why. I think I demonstrated tonight that I'm hardly the best Watcher in the fold."

Blaine shook his head. "You're just kind of new. But – I mean, you know what you're doing Kurt. And you see potential in me, and not a lot of other people have. You told me you could make me into an incredible Slayer, and I believed you. I still believe you."

Kurt laughed mirthlessly. "I don't know if I believe myself. You don't need me to be a great Slayer, Blaine, you've got-"

"Kurt."

Kurt closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

"Blaine," he said softly, opening his eyes. "There is sensitive information that it is perhaps too early to tell you. But at the same time, I don't think I can ask you to make any kind of commitment to me or this family until I tell you. Dave and I have our...our own history. But what I don't understand is how he met up with those two. Or why. They...I wasn't sure it was them until I saw my dad's reaction, but he didn't leave any room for doubt. Those women have been looking for us for a long time."

Blaine simply stared at him, willing Kurt to continue. "You may not want to stay with me after all once I've explained, and I'll understand if you want to leave, but I need you to promise me that you won't tell anyone what I'm going to tell you. I don't care how much you trust them, you can't tell anyone, all right?"

Blaine nodded, eyes wide. "Yes. Of course."

Kurt nodded. "Okay. So..." Kurt's face took on a look of concentration. "So, I imagine you've heard of the curse of Angellus."

"Blaine nodded. "Yeah. He was a vampire, a particularly vicious and dangerous vampire, and he killed a gypsy princess or something and was cursed with a soul."

Kurt's lips curled into a tiny smile. "More or less. He was cursed to live as a vampire with a soul, knowing full well what he'd done all those years as a soulless demon. He had to live with himself every day with that knowledge, and with the knowledge that if he ever had a single moment, however fleeting, of true happiness, he would lose his soul all over again."

Blaine shivered slightly. "God. Those Gypsies do not fuck around."

"No," Kurt agreed. "We don't."

Kurt took a moment to allow his response to sink in. It didn't take long. Suddenly, Blaine's eyes widened immensely.

"Wait. What? You- I- what?"

"The people that Angellus was unfortunate enough to cross were the Kalderash clan in Romania. They had some...unique magics that are generally assumed to have been lost. But...the family itself never lost them."

"And you...?"

"My mother was a Summers. And my father is a Kalderash."

Blaine stared at him. "So...where did Hummel come from?" The question sounded stupid to his own ears, but he couldn't think what else to ask. He didn't even know where Kurt was going with this.

"It's an assumed name. My father relocated us, gave us new identities. I've been Kurt Hummel for the past thirteen years. But I was born Kurt Summers-Kalderash. A bit of a mouthful, but it sounds rather distinguished, doesn't it?"

Blaine just nodded.

"Well, so, you already knew I can do some spellwork, though I'm not powerful enough to really be a proper warlock. My father, on the other hand, is. He was well schooled in all the family magics, and he's good at what he knows. And he loved my mother very much."

Kurt wasn't sure how he was able to remain so calm. He had never told anyone this story. The story that had controlled the last thirteen years of his and his father's life. The story that almost led his father to reject Carole, until Kurt had found them arguing loudly on the front porch during a thunderstorm, Carole yelling that she didn't care about being safe if it meant losing he and Kurt, his father falling apart in her arms in a way that had made Kurt's eyes go wide.

He had carried it like something fragile and heavy, trying desperately to live the version of normal that others in the fold were living while constantly looking over his shoulder, living with a secretly packed bag under his bed, ready to run.

But as he began to tell Blaine, he was amazed at how much lighter and sturdier his secret began to feel. And as Kurt spoke, Blaine got up off the couch and sat down on the floor beside Kurt's recliner.

"My mother had a Slayer named Eva. And there were these three girls- vampires. They called themselves the Unholy Trinity. They were smart and dangerous and they kept Eva and Emma and my parents on their toes. God, they even summoned this enormous sluggoth demon once that came right up through the floorboards of our living room. I was probably only three or four, but I still remember my mother grabbing me and running out of the house and-"

He was rambling and he knew it, but Blaine was paying rapt attention. He didn't appear the least bit fidgety or bored, didn't seem to be humoring Kurt with his interest. Before he knew it, Blaine was sitting with his chin resting on the arm of Kurt's recliner, gazing up at Kurt like a small boy listening to a bedtime story.

And so Kurt told him everything. He didn't skim over the details or hold any of it back. He told Blaine about the leader of the Trinity, the Mayan princess-turned-vampire who was one of the most bitterly vicious creatures ever to touch his life. He told Blaine about how the former princess claimed to be in love with Kurt's mother, the way that she sent his mother jewelry stolen from dead women and flowers stolen from funerals as gifts, the way she vowed at every opportunity, whether screaming from the back yard or whispering across the windowsill or writing a note in the smeared blood of a neighborhood pet, that she would have Elizabeth Summers, that she would destroy everyone she loved until she, the dark princess, was the only one left that she could love.

The trinity had tried to get Kurt. They had tried to get Kurt a lot. One time they even did it, and he spent the night in a cold crypt crying for his mother before Eva saved him.

He never did find out why they didn't just kill him that night.

Kurt remembered the princess standing just outside their front door, speaking to his father in a low, calm voice that made Kurt shiver.

"I'm going to kill you," she had said, "but first I'm going to break you."

And broken him she had.

What she hadn't expected was for Burt Kalderash to break her right back.

Blaine's throat had gone dry. He couldn't stop listening, but he honestly wasn't sure he even wanted to hear the rest of the story. He could see the pain mounting in Kurt's eyes, and he wasn't sure he could bear to see it crest.

"She killed my mother," Kurt said softly. Blaine inhaled sharply, and murmured "Oh, Kurt." Kurt looked down at him, expecting pity, but was greeted with nothing but a look of heartbroken warmth. He felt his chest tighten at the openness in Blaine's eyes.

"She killed her and then she turned her, and-" Kurt closed his eyes and heaved an enormous, shaky. sigh. Then his face fell into the hand on his uninjured side, and he was crying softly.

"Kurt," Blaine said so quietly it was almost a sigh.

Kurt wiped his eyes and Blaine caught Kurt's hand in his own on its way back down to Kurt's lap. Kurt gave him a surprised look, but squeezed his hand gently and smiled at him and didn't let go.

"Blaine, it was my fault. I know I was a little kid, but I was raised to know about vampires. I should have known better. But she just- she'd been missing for days, and I didn't even realize that I was inviting her in, I mean, it was her home. She lived there."

Blaine tightened his grip on Kurt's hand.

"I can still remember the look on her face when my father staked her," Kurt whispered.

And then he was crying in earnest, because suddenly the memory of that look was all he could perceive. That look of shock and rage and then – maybe? Possibly? A tiny glimpse of the real her, a tiny glimpse of grief and sadness and love-

Blaine was up on his knees and doing his best to hold Kurt. It was awkward; he was being careful to avoid Kurt's injured shoulder, and Kurt was still slightly stiff in his arms, but the comfort it gave them both was palpable.

They held each other quietly for a few moments before Kurt continued the story.

The Mayan princess had been enraged. She had not wanted Elizabeth to go without her to see her husband and son, but the princess hadn't had such people in her life when she had been turned. She didn't understand the maddening desire of a new vampire to shred and destroy everything that tied them to being human, to having a soul.

And now she was gone, and the princess had not had her for even a day.

She set their house on fire. She killed Eva. She almost killed Emma. And she forgot, utterly forgot, that Burt was a Kalderash.

But Burt hadn't forgotten. And the princess wasn't the only one thrumming with heartbreak and rage. She wasn't the only one who's world had narrowed to a simple thirst for grief-stricken revenge.

The curse of Angellus had not been laid in hundreds of years. It was strong, dark magic and there was no guarantee that Burt would even survive it. Emma begged him not to do it, but he simply gave her instructions to keep Kurt safe if anything happened to him. Kurt remembered sobbing into Emma's skirt while his father pulled out of the driveway, convinced that he was going to lose him, that he was going to be an orphan at the age of eight.

"He survived it, obviously, but it took a toll on his body. He developed a heart condition, and he even had a heart attack a few years ago, which was utterly terrifying, let me tell you."

Blaine settled back onto the floor, but didn't let go of Kurt's hand. "Wh-what happened to the princess?"

Kurt shrugged, wincing at the pain in his shoulder as he did so. "I didn't see her again. My father said the curse was successful. To be perfectly honest, I hope she's suffering. I hope she suffers forever." He glanced at Blaine out of the corner of his eye. "That might make me a horrible person, but-"

Blaine shook his head. "Of course it doesn't. I...of course it doesn't. After what she did to you, I don't think anyone could blame you for that."

Kurt gave him a tiny smile. "Well, the other two members of the Trinity- and I'm pretty sure they were the two that we dealt with tonight- they absolutely swore vengeance. And they weren't the only ones. Staking is one thing, but the curse- that curse is considered the worst thing that could ever happen to a vampire. We may as well have had a bulls-eye painted on our front door. So the Council relocated us. We got new names and new identities, they moved us to the Mid States, which I wasn't thrilled about even when I was eight, and put us in a work-house. Emma...well, she and my father stayed close, worked together under the radar, but he wasn't her Watcher anymore. She moved to the Eastern States for awhile, just to throw people off our tracks. When she finally moved here..." Kurt smiled. "It was nice. We missed her. I missed her."

"Was she the last Slayer your father had?" Blaine asked.

Kurt frowned and nodded. "He was an amazing Watcher. If you ask anyone old enough to remember about Burt Kalderash and Liz Summers – they were kind of like a celebrity couple of the Slayer world. But he just...he couldn't do it, I suppose. After losing my mother and Eva like that, he was different." Kurt shrugged slightly, wincing a far bit less this time. "Only a few people in the Council's inner circle know who we really are. He's stayed in the fold because he's a warlock and runs a work-house and can give people the appearance of legitimate employment at his garage. We had hoped Quinn and Tina would have forgotten about us by now, or at least given up on looking. Or I did, anyhow. I don't think my father ever really thought that was going to happen."

Blaine swallowed. "But now it has."

"Now it has," Kurt agreed.

"But what about the ritual they were talking about tonight?"

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows. Blaine willed himself not to think about how adorable it was. It was entirely inappropriate to be thinking about Kurt's frequent displays of adorability during such a serious conversation.

So he only thought about it a little.

"I really don't know. It's the first I've heard of it. I would ask my father, but-" Kurt rolled his eyes. "I don't think he'd be a very helpful source of information tonight."

Blaine sighed deeply. "Yeah. No kidding. What a night, huh?"

Unexpectedly, Kurt burst out laughing. "Oh my God, that may be the biggest understatement I have ever heard!"

Blaine couldn't help but laugh too. He was pretty sure he had never experienced so many emotions in such a short period of time. At least not since he had found out he was a Slayer, that is.

"So," Kurt said pointedly as his laughter subsided. "What now, Mr. Anderson?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, now you know everything there is to know. Are you still determined to stay in this madhouse?"

Blaine smiled and shrugged. "Well, yeah. I mean, madhouse or no madhouse, I feel like I belong here."

Kurt bit his lip to contain his smile. "You definitely belong, Blaine. But staying with us isn't going to be as safe as-"

"As what?" Blaine cut in. "As any other Watcher household where I would be sure to piss off other vampires and demons and live in constant danger anyway? It's not like I'm an accountant, Kurt. This is a dangerous job. It's going to be dangerous no matter who I'm working with."

Kurt arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Touche," he said with a smile before stifling a yawn.

"It's really late," Blaine observed, ignoring Kurt's no shit, Sherlock look in response. "We should probably get to bed."

Kurt sighed. "Go ahead. I'm not going to be able to sleep anytime soon. I'll probably just stay up and read."

"You need to sleep, Kurt. Do you want some tea? I could make you some chamomile-"

"That's sweet, Blaine, but no. I just...I'm feeling..."

"Is it Quinn and Tina?" Blaine asked softly. Kurt shook his head.

"Is it..." Blaine eyed him nervously. "Is it the other one? Dave?"

Kurt stiffened noticeably, his hand clamping down hard on Blaine's. "I..."

"You don't have to talk about it," Blaine said quickly. "But if it would make you feel more, um, relaxed, you do have that couch in your room. I could sleep there."

Kurt's cheeks went pink. "No, I couldn't ask you to do that. It's just – I'm just being ridiculous. It's not like he can get in the house, and anyway, he's just a vampire. Nothing I should be losing sleep over, really."

"He's obviously not just a vampire to you, Kurt. And I really don't mind." Kurt opened his mouth to protest, but Blaine hurried to continue. "Look. I'm a Slayer, which basically means I'm a glorified security guard with superpowers, and I sleep like a cat. Are you seriously trying to tell me you wouldn't feel safer with me in the room?"

"Maybe a little," Kurt conceded, looking away from Blaine.

Blaine gave Kurt's hand a gentle squeeze and stood up. "Come on. I'll help you up the stairs."

Kurt rolled his eyes but accepted the help.

Outside the Hummel-Hudson residence, Dave watched the guy Slayer help Kurt out of his chair and practically carry him toward the staircase. A moment later a light went on upstairs in Kurt's bedroom. Dave knew it was Kurt's bedroom, because he had spent enough nights holding his breath while he watched Kurt through the window, doing homework at his desk or smearing some kind of fancy gay lotion shit on his face or plucking his eyebrows. A couple of times Kurt had even forgotten to pull the shade down when he got changed, and those memories had featured prominently in Dave's nights alone, twisting in the sheets of his bed while he jerked himself off.

Dave climbed the tree outside Kurt's window with much more speed and grace than he ever had as a clumsy human teenager. Inside the room, the guy Slayer was helping Kurt get his shirt off while navigating around the cast. Kurt was blushing, and then he said something and the Slayer nodded and went over to the window and pulled down the shade.

A few moments later the light went off in the bedroom. Dave gritted his teeth and looked around for something to kill. He couldn't find anything, so he settled for ripping a branch from the tree where he sat and throwing it as hard as he could. He heard it hit the roof of a neighbor's house with a distant thump.

So the girls didn't trust him anymore. Fine. Fuck those bitches. It made things easier, actually, because they weren't going to let Dave have Kurt the way he wanted anyway. He was sick of that bitch Quinn always telling him what to do and calling him stupid. He didn't want to just tag along with older vamps anymore, he wanted a companion. He wanted someone he could hunt with and feast with and have sex with under the moonlight, their bodies smeared in warm human blood. He wanted to watch Kurt suck a pretty boy dry while Dave fucked him from behind. And he wanted to turn him. He wanted to drink Kurt's life and watch Kurt die and then come back to him. Come back for him.

Dave climbed down from the tree and began prowling around the edge of the house. Maybe he could slip under the porch- that didn't really count as going inside the house, did it? Or maybe there was a shed or something- all he knew was that he didn't want to go far. He wanted to lie in wait. He needed Kurt, and he couldn't believe that it had taken him this long to come back to Lima for him.

Also, he really wanted to kill that fucking Slayer. That short-ass prettyboy Slayer who had pulled Kurt off of him and kicked him out of a tree. That little bitch was probably fucking Kurt right now. Oh, yeah, Dave was definitely going to kill his ass. He wasn't even sure he was going to bite him. Well, he probably would, really- Slayer blood and all – but the idea of wrapping his hands around that fucking midget's neck and just squeezing the life out of him-

Dave had to stop and adjust himself. He was getting really turned on. He was about to continue exploring the yard when he was hit with an overwhelming presence.

There was someone here. Someone of the demon variety. Someone old and powerful.

Dave didn't even have time to turn around before he was slammed against the side of the house, one hand around his throat and another pushing against his chest. He couldn't move.

It was another vampire, and Dave hadn't been wrong about the old and powerful part. He could feel it with just as much solidity as he could feel the hands on his body.

But there was something else too. Something...off about this one. Dave couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"You stay the hell away from them, you got it?" the vampire hissed in his ear. "If I ever catch you lurking around here again, I will kill you."

Dave just stared.

"Got it?"

Dave couldn't even access his anger at being put in his place like this. This vampire was stronger than any he'd ever met before and he was scared. He nodded emphatically.

The vampire released him. "Good. Go."

Dave took off like a shot into the night.

The older vampire stood and stared at the house, eyes travelling up to the window where the Slayer and his young Watcher slept.

By the time the sky began to lighten, the yard was empty.