You see, Kurt had never lived in a house. He'd never lived in one town, nor had he ever truly been to school. It was to late now, of course. But he would give everything to go to high-school...to be a regular kid.

Then again, sometimes he felt differently. This was one of those times. Sure, he was pretending, but this was the closest he was ever going to get.

"Hey, Kurt! How was that-oh jeez, what was it? Oh, knitting club!" Kurt smiled as he set down his keys on the table, and shuffled into the kitchen. There his best-friend stood, trying to make an omelet.

"Rachel, you do understand that it's eleven o'clock at night, don't you?" he laughed, hugging her from behind, and spinning her around in a circle. Rachel laughed, and hit his shoulder playfully.

"Well, yeah. But I was bored waiting up for you, yeah I know, I'm such a rebel, so I decided to try cooking." Rachel shrugged, the spatula still in her hand. Kurt rolled his eyes, and relieved the burning pan of the burnt eggs, and plunking it in their tiny sink.

"Well, I doubt I'll be going back; should have seen the looks on all those tiny, old ladies' faces. I'm content with my job, I see that now." Kurt seemed to be convincing himself as he poured a glass of wine. Rachel sighed, and smiled sadly at him.

"I'm sure, sweetie." Rachel finally said. "Well, now that I've seen to your well-being, I'm going to go to sleep. We've both got work in the morning."

Kurt nodded at Rachel, and she kissed him on the forehead as she journeyed to her room. Kurt smiled at her, but as soon as he was gone, his smile faded, and he sighed semi-contently. Yeah, this sort of life would never, ever be perfect, but it was hell of a lot better than his real one.

Just before Kurt was off to bed, and after he'd finished his second glass of wine, he heard creaks of the floorboard. He closed his eyes with frustration, and let out the softest of sighs.

He silently pulled out the gun he kept hidden under the kitchen sink, and slinked into the living room. He heard more rustling, and saw a shadow pass by in the neighboring hallway.

Then, before he could investigate further, a person appeared in the room, and without a second thought, he thrust his body at it swinging.

He heard curses, an expected crunch, and then he was being flipped over and pinned to the ground. Kurt spat at what was on top of him.

"Well, someone's outta practice." Someone huffed. Kurt smirked in recognition, flipped them over, and ground his knee into the person's chest. The person cursed again, and let out a gust of air. "Or not."

"Finn, what are you doing here?" Kurt growled, getting up and holding a hand out to his brother. His brother took it, and hoisted himself up. Kurt flicked on the light, and couldn't help but smile at the trickle of blood running from Finn's nose.

"Well, it's Dad." Finn began, however, before he could explain, Rachel tripped into the room. Kurt saw Finn gulp, and something all too familiar twinkle in his eyes, and rolled his eyes.

"What about him?" Kurt asked, patting Rachel's shoulder to reassure her. The worried look in her eyes flickered away, and she turned to Finn with a smile.

Finn sighed. "This talk would be better if it was private." Kurt ground his teeth.

"No, whatever it is, Rachel has the right to hear it. She's my best friend." Kurt said sassily. Finn rolled his eyes, and ran his hand through his hair.

"Fine. Dad hasn't been home in a few days. Now, I usually wouldn't come to you in these situations, but there is something big going on in Minnesota, and I don't have the time to go and find Dad. It's up to you." Finn said. Kurt sighed in relief.

"Oh, I'm sure he'll stumble in a few days. Whatever pie eating contest that's in Minnesota can wait. Just stay a couple more days at the hotel you were in. He'll show up." Kurt advised. Finn groaned.

"He was on a hunting trip, Kurt. It's been three weeks." Finn said. Kurt paled, and his hands clenched into fists.

"Oh. Rachel, if you'll excuse us."

................................................................................................................

"This is so typical of Dad. God, I was so close." Kurt argued, reluctantly following Finn outside, his bag under his arm, and Rachel's goodbyes, and good lucks echoing in his ears.

"Yeah, I know. But Will called pretty frantic last night, and as much as I'd love to go find Dad, it seemed pretty important. Anyway, he's your real dad, and despite how long I've known him, you still know him better than anyone, and if someone was to find ol' Burt Hummel when he doesn't want to be found, it'd be you." Finn informed. Kurt nodded, and then got a gleam in his eyes.

"Did you bring my-," Finn laughed before he could complete the question.

"Your baby? Of course." And with that, the two immerged onto Rachel, and Kurt's yard. Sitting on the curb, was Kurt's Navigator. It was gleaming in the moonlight, and just being the light at the end of Kurt's ever-looming tunnel.

However, something interrupted his view...as in a person leaning against it with their head down.

"Finn, who the hell is that?" Kurt asked, looking at Finn with a raised eyebrow. Finn flinched, and threw his hands up in surrender.

"Look, I couldn't just let you go alone. He's another hunter, one of Will's friends. Pretty much pulled him out of his ass at the last minute. Will didn't have time for my wining, I guess. Just...I don't trust him, but if Will does, he's good enough for me." Finn admitted. Kurt hissed, and hit Finn on the shoulder. "Shit! Ow!"

"That's what you get, Finn. Now, just go. God, you're insufferable." Kurt pointed behind Finn's shoulder, where he could see Finn's own clunky trunk. Finn smiled, and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

"I'd say good luck, but you don't really need it." Finn grinned, and then with a pat on his back, he was off. Kurt breathed through his nose, and with it, his entail frustration melted away. Though, as he looked back at his 'partner' a whole new level of it surfaced.

He headed in the direction of his car, and as he got closer, the person leaning against his car raised his head. Kurt's steps faltered a little, but he quickly shook it off. Granted, this guy was damn attractive, that didn't mean he wasn't an asshole, and if he was a hunter, than yeah, he probably was.

Kurt planted himself in front of him, and the two looked each other over.

"You've got to be kidding me, right? You're a hunter?" the man gasped. Not in a rude way, surprisingly, but more in simple awe. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Yes, for about...hmm, I don't know, forever? So, how about you shut up, and accept that. No need for questions, I don't owe you my life story. We're going to find my dad, and I'm never talking to you again." Kurt said bluntly. The man blinked at him, and then smiled. Kurt cursed internally at how cute he was.

"Now I know what your brother meant. Crazy, from what I've heard about you, I would've never guessed you'd look like this. I mean, we've all heard the infamous Kurt Hummel was unorthodox, but we've never actually known what that meant. No wonder." The man continued to be kind, and Kurt was beginning to think he wasn't the unorthodox hunter here.

"Yes, well." Was all Kurt said, and he went ahead into his car.

The man followed him. "Hey, isn't this like super crazy? It's just like the Winchesters' story. Wait, you've met them, are they...are they really-,"

"Extraordinary? The best hunters you'll ever meet? Absolutely. Being this talented does have its perks, but I tell you, they get super cranky when they time travel. Saved my ass, though. Guess I'm special or something. At least, that's what they said." Kurt finished. The man raised his eyebrows, which were triangle shaped, and looked so ridiculous, they managed to make Kurt actually giggle. He made it out to be a cough, though, of course.

"Wow. So, my name is Blaine Anderson, but everyone just calls me Anderson. Sometimes Andy, which I kind of loathe." He said, running a hand through his curly, black hair. Kurt smirked.

"Well, let's get going then, Andy."