CHAPTER 5: Questions

Bright light assaulted Kurts eyes when he had opened them once more. He blinked a couple of times before his vision completely cleared and found himself staring at a harsh fluorescent lamp directly suspended high above his face.

"Mr. Hummel? Oh good, youre awake now. Your friend would be relieved." Kurt noticed the mild female voice as belonging to Shanna, the school nurse.

"What –what happened?" the junior tried to push himself up from the uncomfortable lying position he was in. The nurse was immediately beside him.

"Mr. Anderson said that youve fainted. I believe you did –he carried you all the way here –"

Kurt found himself suddenly flushing at the thought of fainting in front of Blaine of all people , and then having the dark-haired boy carry him all the way to the clinic.

"Where is Blaine?"

Shanna smiled.

"Just outside, waiting. I tried to shoo him off to his afternoon classes, but he wouldnt budge. Ill inform him that you are already up –Im sure he will be greatly relieved," she winked at him as he stepped outside the sterile space. Kurt just nodded as he started tidying himself up while the nurse went to see Blaine.

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Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Blaine cursed himself as he sat on the empty plastic bench just outside the school clinic. His hazel eyes were closed –but if he did open them at that point, one would find it glowing scarlet.

Stupid! You could have gotten him hurt! When will you ever learn?

Blaine clenched his fists tightly. He was damn right pissed off at himself –the stark white knuckles on his hands were proof enough.

Of course, of all the stupid things he could do… He turned up his supernatural abilities to be able to locate Kurt quickly when the countertenor had stormed out. It had been a while since Blaine used his powers, so of course, hed forgotten to block them off again before touching Kurt. Now Kurt was passed out, presumably hurt because Blaine did not protect him from himself. Ugly history repeating itself, Blaine placed his head in his hands and sighed. Please, not again.

The dark-haired demon/young man contemplated on the incident. Kurt had passed out at his mere touch –he wondered if it was his empathic abilities or his clairvoyant ones that the human boy had tapped into. He had hoped that it was neither –for Kurts sake and his own sanity as well –but he knew that was just wishful thinking.

Never again. Blaine told himself. This had been the exact same mistake he had made that cost him Celestine. But he will not allow it to happen again. His thoughts were interrupted when the door to the clinic opened. The nurse, who told him to call her Shanna smiled at him.

"Hes awake."

Blaine let out s sigh of relief as he stood up and followed the school nurse into the room.

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When Kurt saw Blaine, an inexplicable surge of warmth enveloped his lithe body: Blaines lips curled up into an easy smile upon seeing him, but the smile did not reach the gorgeous hazel eyes.

"How are you, Kurt?"

The countertenor frowned. He could not determine any outright change in the other boy, but he felt that something was off –almost as if he was cut-off from Blaine –blocked. It was quite an odd sensation. The warmth instantly departed Kurt.

"Im fine." The blue-eyed man said plainly. "Im sorry about –"

"No problem," Blaine waved him off, his smile still half-way there. "Im just glad youre okay." The dark-haired boy moved to touch Kurt, but at the very last moment before they connected skin to skin, he seemed to have changed his mind with a barely-there wince. It wasnt noticeable for the regular human, but Kurt did see the flinch. His heart gave an curious jolt –as if in pain, before resuming its normal rhythm. He forced a smile. "Thank you, still. Youve done a lot for me today, more than you could ever imagine."

The words seemed to have a magical effect on Blaine however, as the smile that he was curtailing broke free of its restraints. "It was a pleasure to have met your acquaintance, Kurt." He said rather formally, with half-a bow to boot. "I do hope to see you tomorrow." Without another word, Blaine turned on his heel and left, leaving a baffled Kurt in his wake.

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There was a knock at the door to Principal Figgins office. Dona, his secretary, was out for lunch.

"Come in."

The door swung open, revealing an auburn-haired, blue-eyed young man, wearing a crisp black button-down and acid-washed jeans. His wavy bangs covered most of his left eye. A gold pendant shaped link an ankh hung from his neck and glinted in the soft fluorescent light.

"Good afternoon, sir." A pair of dark eyebrows rose.

"And you are?"

"Morris, sir –Chandler Morris. Im a transfer from Georgia." Figgins frowned in confusion. "Im sorry Mr. Morris, but we certainly arent expecting –"

Chandler smiled cryptically and raised his right hand. Figgins eyes slid out of focus momentarily, before returning to its place, ushering in a look of realization on his distinct features. He handed the strange young man a piece of paper. "Ah, Mr. Morris, well, here is you class schedule. We hope you enjoy your schooling here at McKinley." Chandler reached for the proffered sheet with a wry grin.

"Thank you, Sir. Im sure I will."

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Kurt sighed as he emptied his locker for the day. A signed slip from Shanna earned him an excuse to skip the rest of his afternoon classes. And to be honest, he wouldnt be having it any other way. He felt downright exhausted for some reason. Since lunch time, he had felt an inconsiderable drain in his energy level –his trip to the clinic was just the coup de grace.

I fainted! I fucking fainted –I NEVER FAINT! The glasz-eyed junior slammed the locker door shut and gripped the strap of his leather mailman bag tighter…

And there was that weird vision involving Blaine.

And what the HELL was that? Blaine… he must think that Im loony, Kurt mused. I mean, what else would make him all of a sudden become distant and disappear on me like that? Crap. The very first friend that I really like a lot –and I scare him off –all in a span of one day too!

Kurt reached the parking lot in record time, despite his mind still caught up floating elsewhere. He was then fumbling for his car keys absent-mindedly, when somebody bumped into him from behind, causing him to drop his things.

"OWW! Watch where youre –" Kurt spun around to confront his assailant, but before he could even make a quarter turn, forceful hands shoved him against the side-door of his Navigator repeatedly.

"OWW! STOP! Stop it! What –"

The countertenors cries did nothing; the hands continued to ram him into the car doo. And after about the 10th shove, the same rough hands grabbed Kurts perfectly coifed hair, pulled him back, before guiding the rest of his head towards the side mirror.

THUD! CRAAACK!

It took no more than three minutes –and Kurts pristine car was covered in blood splatters, its owner lying amongst the nearby bushes –barely conscious and bleeding to death.

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Blaine stepped on the brakes of his Camaro abruptly. He almost missed his own house. He reversed and backed up a bit until he was parked, right in front of a quaint-looking two-storey suburban house. A thick growth of ivy crept up the low cast-iron fence surrounding the red brick property, giving it an eerie look from the outside –almost giving it a feel of being unlived in. He switched the engine off and pulled the keys from the ignition.

Im messing things up again even before I have the chance to start again.

His forehead connected with the padded steering wheel with a dull thud. It certainly took more than that to cause him pain, but as soon as he hit the wheel, Blaines head exploded in pain.

"ARGHHHH!"

Then, his insides decided to twist and wrench itself, it seemed.

"AHHHH –FUCK!"

His hands immediately flew to his front and sides to try and soothe the pain…

That was when his chest –his non-existent heart –started to pound madly.

"WHAT –WHAT –AHHH –THE –HECK –"

Blaine clenched his teeth as he tried to ride the pain that was surging through his whole being. It must be how it felt to have your nerves fried in hot oil, he briefly thought until his whole consciousness succumbed to the inevitable.

In about five minutes since the first wave of pain assaulted him, a dark-haired, hazel-eyed demon who went by the mortal name of Blaine Anderson, had passed out inside his 1967 Black Camaro, oblivious to his surroundings and the onslaught of peril threatening him and his other half.

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"Khalil, what brings you back so soon?" A sharp male voice asked from behind a veil. Blue eyes shone in the otherwise dark, cold room and bowed.

"I have located and identified Leos new burrow, sir." The blue-eyed Khalil said respectfully, a hint of pride showing in his quiet voice. "I have yet to see him, but I got a read on his signature early today. It seems that he is becoming more careless as the decades go by."

"The Source was correct then?" The veiled voice asked again. Khalil nodded. "Precise, sir. It is Leo. We finally have him again." The veil shifted but did not reveal the face of the one behind it. "And what of the… human?"

Khalil sighed.

"I have yet to initiate contact –but I am 100% affirmative that it is the human who had caused Leo to become careless." The veil moved once again. "Very well, carry on with your task."

"Yes sir," Khalil nodded and bowed out of the room. He bit his lip as he felt his features shifting as he left the dark room. He had about a hundred different faces, quite literally, but this last one was by far his favorite. Who knew he looked good with read hair? He ran his fingers through his tousled waves as he made his way towards his ride: a steely, shiny motorcycle.

He had his orders. He will be the one to end this farce. He will finally kill that bastard Leo, get back what was his and forever be glorified by his kind.

"You will never get Celestine –in any way, shape or form," Khalil, a.k.a Chandler Morris smirked as he revved up his bike and snapped on his helmet. "I will follow you both in every lifetime you will ever live –and make sure of that."

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A gentle-looking woman with long, deep blonde hair and kind green eyes stood, watching a swirl of cloudy water as it began to spin faster like a vortex and take form. She wore a light silvery dress, seemingly made out of nothing but wisps of smoke. A heavy, ornate key of brass dangled from a chain around her delicate neck.

"It is time,"

The woman turned to the voice that spoke behind her and nodded once, before resuming watching the vortex, which now formed an archway above a locked wooden door. She slipped the chain off her neck and pushed the key into the hole provided for it. She turned it once and the door creaked open, bathing her in blinding light…

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Back in the realm of mortals, one Kurt Hummel was waking up on a hospital bed for the second time that day. But this time, gone was the calm serenity on his face…

On his delicate features was a look of pure shock.