“You dont extinguish fire by adding more fire, you need water.” - Pope Shenouda III

Kurt counted in his mind as he looked over the discovery in the cargo bin.  Fourteen.  There were fourteen ears of different colours and sizes that had been sewn together on a chain.  All fourteen from The Others with their outrageously pointed tips, which meant that the small man who up until this point had looked as threatening as a puppy had potentially killed fourteen of The Others.

Pulling an arrow from the pack on his bag, Kurt gingerly hooked the chain on the tip of the arrow and lifted it out of the cargo box for everyone to see - not wanting to actually touch the thing with his bare hands.  A hush fell over the crowd gathered, and then responses varied from gagging to hushed ‘Ohmygods' and a lot of looking between Blaine and the ear necklace.

“It's not… unheard of.” One voiced piped up among the others, and Kurt looked up, seeing it came from a middle aged woman who had joined the community a couple years ago with her family after being on the road since The Tides.

Blaine nodded in agreement and knelt down to pop the lid of the second cargo box, immediately digging into the back left of the box and pulling out another chain of ears and holding it up without any noticeable concern about how gross the thing was.  “It's how you can trade with certain groups.”

More quiet and then Kurt dropped the ears back into the cargo bin and put the arrow back into his pack as he stood back up.  “Uck… fine…”

“Fine?” an incredulous voice asked of him and Kurt saw it came from the same man who had asked about searching Blaine's things earlier.  “He has dismembered body parts and it's fine?”

“They can't hurt us, and they're not human.  I didn't see any bombs or weapons or anything else concerning aside from the fact that he needs better clothing to survive the winter here.” Kurt stated simply, eying the man up and down.

Blaine seemed less concerned with the fact that people were watching him warily with the discovery of the ears, and more concerned with Kurt's last point.  “What's wrong with my clothing?”

Kurt didn't get a chance to respond to that question because Beth spoke up again from where she stood between her parents.  “Why do you have a necklace made of ears?” she asked of Blaine.

Blaine sighed and tossed the ear chain he was holding back into the cargo bin before looking first at Beth and then at the group awaiting a response before him.  Kurt could see it in his eyes - Blaine was uncomfortable, and worried for himself.

“It's… we need them to trade for resources with certain groups.”  He offered, hands spread to either side with his palms up as he responded to everyone even though it had been Beth asking the question.

“It's true.”  The woman from earlier spoke up, eyes turning onto her.  “I never had them but we were told by a few groups we couldn't trade with them unless we proved our humanity with one of those things.”

“Prove your humanity?” Quinn queried then, looking between Blaine and the woman.

Blaine just shrugged but the woman seemed to have an answer and spoke, “Renegades will only trade with you if you've killed Others.”

More silence, and then slowly eyes went back onto Blaine, Kurt's included.  Had this small man actually managed to kill Others?  With what would he have even done that?  The contents of his baggage would suggest the only way he could have killed them would be throwing old cell phones at them or reading them to boredom.  How was it even possible?  Everyone here knew that if The Others came, you ran, you didn't fight.  You wouldn't stand a chance if you fought.

At least, that's what Kurt had been led to believe.  They'd never met anyone who'd survived an encounter with a close encounter with an Other.  The closest they had was a senile old man who swore he looked one in the eye.  That was the same man who Mike had to heavily sedate several times a week because he had freak outs, or as Mike called them ‘Anxiety Episodes'.  Mike did have the tendency to make everything sound clinical.

No one asked Blaine if he had actually killed Others though, so after a moment Tina spoke up and told Blaine that she could show him the apartment Mercedes had delegated her to ready for him.  He looked grateful for the exit excuse, and grabbed one of the cargo bins as he followed her.

That's when people started talking.

“How many were on there?”
“Do you think he actually killed them?”
“I'll bet they're faked.”
“How do you even kill one of them?”
“Someone should ask him.”
“What if he's dangerous?”
“Maybe he'd make a good guard.”
“Why do you need ears to prove you're human?”
“Do you think he'd trade them for stuff?”
“I really don't want him sleeping that close to us.”

Kurt started tuning out the voices around him as they all gossiped freely.  A lot of questions were directed to the one woman who had vouched for Blaine by admitting ear necklaces were a legitimate thing, and she became increasingly agitated as it became clear that her knowledge about the object in question was limited to the fact that she hadn't been able to trade with some groups because she didn't have one of those things.

The voices all stopped though when Blaine returned to get more of his gear, glancing around nervously as everyone watched him and were clearly holding off on talking again until he was out of earshot.

By that point the family groups had left and it was only childless individuals around.  Bit by bit though, that group dispersed too as the need for sleep overcame the need to gossip about the community's latest additions, leaving Kurt alone outside of the clinic where Mike, Carole, and the midwife were still working on Trent.

Kurt was leaning against the building, when Blaine returned, and since all his gear was gone, Kurt assumed it was to check up on Trent.

“No word yet.” He said towards Blaine on his approach.

Blaine nodded and looked to the door of the clinic, moving a hand up to the back of his neck and rubbing it there as he waited for a moment as if someone would come out of the door in that instant and tell him how Trent was doing.

Instead Blaine ended up leaning against the wall too, a good meter away from Kurt, and making eye contact with the ground.  He had to be tired, Kurt thought as he looked over at the man whose dark circled eyes and slumped demeanor suggested little else.   And while Blaine stared at the ground, Kurt couldn't help but keep his eyes on him.  He had been so eager, so happy, when Kurt and his people had arrived to help Trent, and had almost seemed boyish.  Now he looked more akin to Kurt's age, if not older, worn by the trip and the inquisition he had just experienced at the hands of the community, and worried about his friend in the building behind them.

He was smaller than Kurt, but broader too, and did not seem to lack for muscle tone if the outlines under his T-shirt suggested anything.  His curls were haphazard and there was a faint echo of Kurt's younger self that demanded that those curls be trimmed down from where they hung around his chin where he had about a week's worth of facial scruff poking through his face.  Beards were commonplace these days in men, and Kurt was one of the few men who kept himself shaved down since he couldn't seem to ever grow a proper beard anyhow.

Maybe, in another time and place, Kurt would have found him beautiful, but too many crushes on straight men over the years and his need to remain aloof meant that now Kurt was largely disinterested in such things.  Blaine was likely just as straight as everyone else was around here, and Kurt wasn't a teenager with time for silly little crushes anymore.  

Still, Blaine was reminiscent of Kurt's fantasy men and with that in his mind, Kurt zoned out a bit until the sound of a throat clearing brought him back to the present and he saw that Blaine was now looking at him instead of the ground.

“Trying to figure out if I'm dangerous?”

Kurt let the corner of his mouth twitch up into a smirk as he heard the question.  Really, it should have been exactly what he had been looking over Blaine for given what had just occurred.  He should have been sizing him up and trying to figure out how someone so small could have killed one of those tall, pointy-eared demons.  But instead, Kurt had been recalling a fantasy image he had once had of having coffee in a little coffee shop with a fantasy boyfriend who looked a lot like Blaine.

“Are you?”

Blaine sighed and looked away from Kurt, his eyes falling back onto the ground.  He was quiet and Kurt presumed he didn't want to talk about it until a moment later Blaine spoke up while looking away still.  

“I'm not.”

“Good.” was Kurt's simple response and they went back to coexisting in silence.  Kurt didn't know how he had gotten stuck with babysitting this new guy.  Everyone had left and seemed to have forgotten that Blaine was there even though they had just all been talking feverishly about him.  Kurt couldn't just leave Blaine alone, especially in the night, and especially when they still didn't know much about him.  

Night patrol guards strolled past every so often and nodded to Kurt, who nodded in return out of politeness.  Kurt could have just left Blaine under their watch he supposed, but the worst case scenario was that if Blaine could kill an Other, than he could easily take care of a patrolling guard if he so desired.  Better to have numbers on their side just in case.

For another hour, they lived in their silence.  Periodically Kurt would fall back into his daydreams and had to give himself a mental slap and remind himself he needed to be on his game if curly over there tried anything.  But Blaine was nothing if not well behaved, and when Mike came out of the front doors of the clinic, Blaine immediately perked up and looked at Mike with an intensity that told Kurt that even if Blaine was dangerous, he was clearly here for his friend first.

“So we opened up the leg, followed the textbooks, and pinned it up, cleaned out the infection, set the leg, stitched him up, and put on a leg brace until it looks good enough to put a cast on.” Mike immediately said as he saw the look in Blaine's eyes.

Of course though, Blaine had to stick onto one part of that whole play-by-play.  

“Followed… the textbooks?  You haven't done this before?”

Mike looked past Blaine for a moment towards Kurt, who gave him a shrug, before looking back to Blaine and nodding.  “We don't have vehicles here anymore that could crush our legs.  We're trying to help the best we can.”

Blaine ran his fingers up through the hair on both sides of his head, curls stretching out and then bouncing back in place as he made a low whine.  “Oh my god… we're trusting in a textbook….”

“Our nurse, Carole, has seen it done before, and she felt confident we did everything as perfectly as it could be done.” Mike offered.  

Kurt could have let Mike try and calm down Blaine, who seemed to be rapidly unwinding before their eyes, but it was clear if there was one thing Mike needed to improve on, it was bedside manner.  Kurt stepped up and set a hand tentatively on Blaine's shoulder.

“I would rather have Mike work on me than any old world doctor.  He knows his stuff.”

Between the hand on his shoulder, which Blaine looked at curiously for a moment before looking up at Kurt, and Kurt's words, Blaine seemed to relax a little.  He certainly stopped fidgeting with his hair, which relieved Kurt's inner fourteen year old to no end who definitely wanted to style that hair.

“Thank you Kurt….” Mike said slowly, as if he couldn't believe Kurt had said it.  Had it been so long since Kurt had paid anyone around here a sincere compliment?

Blaine had honey eyes then, Kurt realized as if it were an epiphany.  They were looking at him and somehow Kurt had managed to miss them up until now.  It wasn't just that they were brown, or hazel, or somewhere inbetween.  No, they looked like honey complete with the glossiness.  

And then those eyes were off of Kurt and looking towards Mike.  “Can I see him?”

Mike nodded once and called for Carole, who came out wiping off her hands with a rag.  He introduced Blaine and Carole and then asked Carole to take Blaine to Trent, explaining to Blaine that Trent was still sedated and probably wouldn't be awake for awhile yet.

That left Mike and Kurt alone outside.

“So his real prognosis?” Kurt asked once Blaine and Carole had left.

Mike sighed and glanced over at Kurt with his more mundane brown eyes.  “We don't know.  We did everything right as far as the books and Carole are concerned, but each injury is unique and no textbook can cover all the possibilities.  He seems to be stable though… but… I really don't know if he'll be able to walk properly ever again.”

Kurt snorted derisively, “Well his leg got crushed.  We both saw it.  He's lucky to be alive.”

“We might need to take him in though longer than just the winter Kurt…”

“Oh.”

So Mike had considered how his bird gang might not be able to take care of someone with a gimped up leg, or that Trent may not even be able to use a quad again - not that Kurt would blame him if he never wanted to get on one again after that.  In addition, physical rehabilitation would probably take longer than just the winter months.  

Without realizing it, they had just decided for the community to take on a new member, and a high needs one at that.

“Anyhow… you should probably get to bed.  We've both been up far too long.” Mike said.

Kurt shook his head, needing to ensure Mike knew before he left.  “Mike…. You all were inside working on that kid, but when we went through their stuff -”

“- You searched their things?”

Kurt nodded to Mike, who looked largely unimpressed by what he must have thought was some kind of invasion of privacy.  Regardless of Mike's ethical issues on the matter, Kurt continued.

“Anyhow, they have these… chains… strung with ears… from Others….”

Kurt watched as Mike's face went pale and he saw him processing that information through his eyes and what it meant, or at least implied, about their guests.

“So you can imagine I'm not really alright with leaving you guys alone with him if he has the potential ability to harm you in some way.” Kurt added after a moment.

“Holy hell….” Mike said with a shake of his head in disbelief.  “I mean, there's one side of me that's immediately curious about the ears and potentially dissecting them and gaining some insight about The Others….”

Kurt couldn't help but smirk at that admission.  Mike was nothing if not predictable.

“... but neither of them really strike me as the type who could go and kill Others… I mean… Trent.  Trent is not at a healthy weight or build and he's lucky he's young because otherwise he'd have nothing going for him in the healing process.  I really have a hard time seeing him as a killer… and Blaine just seems far too nice…”

Kurt snickered, “Well maybe being a soft sweetie pie is how one kills an Other.”

“Doubtful.”

They chuckled briefly and then stood outside for awhile, Kurt just waiting.  He expected Mike to say something to him, given how Mike always shot him those looks like he wanted to say something to Kurt, but nothing was said, instead, Blaine was led out by Carole after a few minutes suggesting that he get his rest and come back in the morning to visit Trent again.

Blaine seemed much more at ease now that he had seen his friend, and nodded obediently to Carole.  “Yes.  Absolutely.”

“Mike, you too.  I can stay up with him tonight.  You look like you'll pass out at any moment.” Carole ordered, shooing them off with a wave of her hands before returning to the inside of the makeshift clinic.

“Well the boss has spoken.  I'll see you in the morning I imagine Blaine.” Mike said with a nod before departing back to his own suite just a couple doors down from the clinic.

Once again, that left Blaine and Kurt in silence together.  Blaine looked over at Kurt and smiled weakly, “Thank you again… for picking up.”

Kurt let out a sigh and rolled his eyes up, earning him a curious arch of Blaine's oversized eyebrows.  “One of us would have after we had decided to respond.  It could have been Mike or Noah or Santana just as easily.”

Well, probably not Santana Kurt thought to himself.  She'd be the one most likely to sever the connection somehow to avoid having to leave Brittany for any length of time.

“Still… it was you… and your voice gave me hope.  So thank you.” Blaine reiterated before turning and leaving Kurt there, wondering if he should follow after Blaine just to ensure he was actually going to his designated apartment and not going to steal supplies.  However, a guard strolled by then, and in the same direction that Blaine was going, so Kurt opted to head back to his home and let sleep take him.  If the community was on fire when he returned, well, he had done more than his part in this matter.

He didn't even start a fire in his pit when he got back to his shack.  Kurt just fell onto his bed and was out.  Here was the only place he felt he could sleep safely.  No one ever came to bother him here and he had enough snares and traps set up around that no dangerous animals could get by.  Not that anything dangerous was often seen.

When he did awake, the sun was already at its peak and Kurt had barely moved an inch in sleep.  He discovered he was sore when he got up, no doubt the result of being on a horse for a day and a bit, and chopping down that tree so ferociously.  It didn't matter though, the best cure for sore muscles was moving them again so they didn't stiffen up more.  He washed his face with the last bit of water in one of his water bottles, collected all the empties, and made his way back to the community after relieving himself behind a tree near his home.

It was harvest time so all the workers were out taking care of the crops they had.  They grew a lot of wheat, oats, barley, rye, and other grains which seemed to grow well in the soil here.  In addition they had a good crop of potatoes, carrots, onions, zucchini, lettuce, beans, tomatoes, peas, peppers, and cucumbers.  Mercedes had even managed to have some of her people set up a raspberry garden.  Fruits were the hardest to come by this far north, so the raspberries, cranberries, and blueberries were especially special to everyone.  Rhubarb also grew easily in the climate, but was so tart that it usually had to be mixed with something sweet to temper the flavour.  Kurt would kill these days for a real peach or orange.

Most of the food would be preserved in some manner, to last them through until the next harvest in the next year, but they always had a bit of a feast once all the food was in - a sort of Thanksgiving time celebration.  

So far, they hadn't had to worry about drought up here.  There had been enough rain since they started planting crops to ensure the plants grew.  No one ever spoke though about the possibility of a dry year because they knew it would be the end of them and this community.  

Since the workers were out, guards were helping with water distribution.  Kurt turned in his empty bottles and collected his ration for the day, putting them into the backpack he had on in place of his arrow pack.  Then he was off to the clinic.

On a typical day, Kurt would have gone out to see if his snares and traps had caught anything, but the overwhelming curiosity hit him as soon as he woke up - he wanted to see how their guests were doing and if anything new had occurred since last night.

Laughter is what he heard first when he walked in, certainly not the sound he was expecting.  He walked towards it, into the room that must have been set up for Trent's recovery.  The man he had only seen whimpering and laying down up until now was sitting up a bit in the bed and talking animatedly with Blaine who was sitting on a space on the edge of the bed and laughing at whatever had been said.  Hovering over them both was Mike, who seemed to be checking Trent's vital signs as he held onto one of his wrists and counted the pulse rate under his breath.

Their conversation stopped though when Kurt walked in and Trent looked at him curiously.  Awake now, Kurt could see what Mike was talking about.  Trent definitely did not look like someone capable of killing Others.  He was stocky and baby faced, with eyes that looked at Kurt with fear.  

“Afternoon Kurt.” Mike greeted as soon as he was done with Trent's pulse and had jotted it down on his clipboard.

Blaine too, smiled in his direction and gave him a nod of greeting.  He still looked exhausted and Kurt wondered how well, if at all, he had slept last night because he looked completely worn and in this moment, even Trent looked healthier.

“Hey guys.  Just checking in.”

Blaine looked to Trent and noted, “Kurt.  The one who picked up the call.”

That seemed to trigger a memory in Trent, and Kurt watched as his face relaxed and an all too cheeky smile filled the lower half of his face.  “Well I guess I have you to thank for my life  Kurt!  Thanks!”

Kurt's eyebrow crooked up and with a quick shake of his head he dismissed the gratitude.  “I didn't do a damn thing.” Regardless, he took a few more steps forward.  “You look better.”

It helped that Trent's leg was currently covered up by a blanket so Kurt didn't have to see it, though it was evident by how much bulkier one side of the bed was compared to the other where the injury was.  

Trent smiled again.  Actually it was more like he beamed and Kurt wondered if the guy knew that he was in here because he almost died and was now separated from his group because he looked positively joyful.  “I'm happy to be here and not in a hole in the ground that's for sure.  Thanks to you and Dr. Mike and -”

“Again.  I'm not a doctor.” Mike noted as he continued to make notes on his clipboard.

“- and the other women who work here as MEDICS…” Trent put extra emphasis on the word that the community had approved of for their medical personnel to let Mike know that he had been listening. “... and Canary here to help me get better.  I'm sure I'll be fine in no time!”

Kurt's eyebrow remained up as he glanced towards Mike who gave him a look back.  So Mike hadn't given him the full prognosis - at least not yet.  And then of course, there was the name ascribed to Blaine.  “Canary?”

Blaine and Trent chuckled together as Kurt questioned the name and in the next instant, Blaine was shrugging off his jacket to expose his arms, the one facing Kurt had a black tattoo of a bird, probably a Canary, and the actual word Canary in a banner which the bird was perched upon.  “It's my Warbler codename.”

“Warbler….?”

Mike snickered a little and walked out of the room, giving Kurt a pat on the back as he left, “You're going to love hearing all about this.”

Kurt glanced to Mike as he left and then back to Blaine and Trent, waiting for the explanation.  It was Blaine who gave it.

“Well… our group - we're the Warblers.”

“That's… unique.” Kurt said, trying to keep his eyebrows from lifting off his forehead.

“Anyhow… we all have a name of a songbird.  I'm Canary, Trent here is Chickadee…” As if on cue, Trent turned slightly so that Kurt could see that he had a similar tattoo on his left bicep - though of a different bird and with his declared name written beneath it. “And Nick is Robin and Jeff is Bluejay and…..”

“I get it.  Why birds?” Kurt cut in.  Really, knowing which of their friends was which bird was useless information to Kurt since he didn't even know the names of most of their friends.

“Well when we formed our group… we noticed that so many groups were trying to create this badass image.  You know how many groups have called themselves the Wolfpack? It's beyond cliche.” Trent started in on the explanation now.

Kurt snickered a little.  He could imagine.  Why any group would need a special name though was beyond him, but because he hadn't been away from this community since they settled here, he didn't know how other humans were living since The Tides, so he certainly wasn't going to question the necessity of a special name.

“Anyhow… most of us were in a school called Dalton and part of a group called The Warblers there.  Blaine and I were only looking into going though at that point, we never actually were a part of the original Warbler school group.. anyhow.  With all the Wolfpacks and Bearpacks and Sharks and Lions out there… we just decided to be a little bit more unique and go with Warblers.”

Kurt nodded.  It made sense he supposed - if not somewhat still ridiculous.  “Which is why your quads had bird names all over them.”

“Precisely.” Blaine noted with a grin and a nod, pulling his jacket up over his arms again as he shrugged it back on. “Anyhow.  We ran into this guy who had been in a prison and did tattoos for the guys when he was in there and he agreed to give us all our own tattoos a few years ago in exchange for some goods.”

Kurt didn't know that he would let someone who had been a prison tattoo artist touch his arm, but clearly these guys didn't have the same reservations.  He just nodded in acknowledgement of Blaine's words because, really, what could you say to someone who had just excitedly spoken about how he had let some old world criminal ink up his skin forever with a bird since he was a part of a group named after songbirds?

Luckily Trent chuckled as he recalled the memory Blaine spoke of and added his own take, “I remember we got soooo drunk to get them done.  Some of us were so worried that women would take one look at them and decide we weren't worth their time with silly birds on us!”

More laughter from the pair and Kurt had to refrain from rolling his eyes.  While he was fighting for survival in this community, along with everyone else, this Warbler group was more interested in body modification and getting some action.  It really was surprising one of them hadn't had a stupidity induced accident earlier.

“Why bother to get them done if you had second thoughts and needed the alcohol?” Kurt asked then, finding a spot on the wall to lean against.  They really needed to get a chair in here for guests.

“Oh… well… Wes, David, and Thad… our leaders, decided on it.”

“Indeed.”

“Speaking of which….” Blaine sat up and off the bed, stretching a little in place before turning to Kurt.  “... I was hoping you could take me to whomever is in charge of this place.  I need to thank them for letting us in and also figure out what I can do to not get in the way and also get our own food.  I brought as many canned things as I could to start off, but I'm going to have to scavenge or hunt or something to make up for the rest…”

Kurt smirked a little.  “We don't have traditional leadership here.  Everyone votes… usually.  Your situation was a little different.  It was urgent, according to Mike, to get to Trent quickly if we were going to help him and most people were in bed by the time we picked up your call.  Besides, you're both temporarily here.”

“So… I have to talk to everyone about….”

Kurt shook his head.  “No.  We'll take whatever canned food you have to the chefs and let them determine how much more you need to bring in to cover for yourself and Trent.  As far as thanking people, just make sure you do your part around here and don't get in trouble.”

Blaine nodded and Trent spoke up from behind him.  “Are you sure about this Blaine?  I don't want to be the source of your troubles… I mean… I'm so grateful for what you've done for me, but this is going to be so much harder for you than it will be for me and -”

“Shut it Chickadee.” Blaine snapped back gently, and grinned towards his friend.  “We joined together, we leave together.  I know you'd do the same for me and I'm happy to do it for you.  You alright if I let Kurt take me to get the food I brought along for us and take it to his chefs?”

Trent nodded and Kurt's brow furrowed as he thought back to the last minute.   He was pretty sure he had only just described how the food situation would work, not volunteered himself as Blaine's escort around town.  Regardless, better him than Mike.  Mike was not a fighter if the need arose and Kurt would make sure Blaine knew his place here in the community.

Kurt pushed off the wall and turned to leave, Blaine giving Trent a rushed goodbye as he followed after Kurt into the community.

As they walked to Blaine's apartment, Kurt definitely noticed all the eyes on the new addition, and it was clear Blaine noticed too as he avoided everyone's glances by looking down at the ground and walking with Kurt as quickly as his feet would let him to the apartment suite Tina had made up for him.

It wasn't much, but single people couldn't expect much more than a single room anyhow.  One of the single mattresses they had pilfered from an old furniture store years ago lay on the floor with a sheet and a blanket which confirmed that Blaine hadn't slept last night given the unused state of it all.  Blaine's luggage was all off the side, sitting open and he had clearly been trying to organize what he had brought better.  One of the backpacks and one of the cargo bins was now entirely filled with canned goods, ready to be delivered to the chefs.  

“Would you mind helping me?” Blaine asked of Kurt with a weak smile.  He had already picked up the cargo bin when he asked and so Kurt was left with the slightly lighter backpack - though he was sure the seams on the bottom were strained to the max with all the weight it was carrying in it now.

“Shit.  You boys really like the old world food…” Kurt grunted out with a grimace as he pulled on Blaine's pack over his own - which only had his water bottles in it anyhow.

“Well it's convenient since we're on the go most of the time… though we have had to talk about changing things up since it's getting harder to come by all the time.”

Kurt walked out ahead of Blaine, trying not to let the bag on his back weigh him down as he led Blaine to the food storehouse.  “You always carry this much food on you?”

“No…  We usually have extra fuel in our cargo holds which takes up a lot of the space but I traded the guys our fuel for more food.  Most of them were happy to help out.”

“And the others…?”

“A few of them want to change things up…” Blaine admitted pensively as he followed Kurt, every now and then adjusting the weight on his hands which no doubt were strained themselves.

“Hmm.” Kurt wasn't actively trying to get more information out of Blaine, but seemed easy enough to do so, and it was probably better he learned more about this man and his friend. “In here.”

Kurt pushed open the door and held it open for Blaine who thanked him under his breath as he shuffled in with the load.  He glanced over the eyes all taking in stock of the Blaine in the warehouse until he saw Brittany. “Brit!”

The blonde bounced over, eager to take a break in counting their inventory like they did everyday to make sure no one was stealing. “Kurt!  New guy!”

Brittany also didn't have the wariness so many other people had.  She just saw people as people without any negative assumptions, which meant she wouldn't be staring at Blaine the entire time as if he were an axe murderer about to cut into her.

“Blaine's fine.” The man beside Kurt set down the cargo bin and extended one of his now very red hands to Brittany who eagerly took it and shook it back.

“Nice to meet you.  What can I help you guys with?”

“Blaine here has a bunch of canned food he's submitting to cover his and the guy in the clinic, Trent's, food.  Will you figure out how much he has and how much more he'll need to get through the winter?”

Brittany looked down at the cargo bin, and towards the backpack Kurt was happily stripping off his back before kneeling down and opening the bin to peek at it's contents. “Ooo!  Spaghetti-O's!  I remember having those as a kid! Pineapple… you have pineapple!”

Kurt salivated immediately on hearing that and had to swallow it back as several other chefs came running over to take stock of what Blaine had brought, making notes on items that were rare and in demand.  He leaned over to Blaine and whispered.

“Any peaches?”

He got a curious look in response and then a nod, which nearly shot his heart right out of his chest.  Peaches.  Real peaches.  Sure they had to be overly syrupy being stuck in a can for so long, but they would have the flavour.

“I'll bring in five rabbits in your name if you give me a can of peaches before they can inventory it.”

It was more than a good deal, and Blaine, despite not being a part of this community and not knowing how things worked, seemed to figure that out on his own.  He unzipped the backpack, which hadn't been touched by the chefs yet, dug into it for a moment, and pulled out a can of peaches - holding it out to Kurt who greedily grabbed the offering and hugged it to his chest.  He was going to treat himself tonight.

Brittany chuckled as she noticed the action, the only one of her people that wasn't totally engrossed in looking over the new foods, and then shooed them away.  “I'll let you guys know.  In the meantime, I didn't see either of you at breakfast or lunch so you should go grab something.”

Blaine's stomach growled then in perfect timing, causing an exchange of laughs between himself and Brittany while Kurt carefully put the can of peaches into his own backpack before nodding to Brittany and walking out with the other man hot on his trail.

“So you haven't eaten or slept.  How exactly are you on your feet right now?”

Blaine shrugged up his shoulders.  “Sheer willpower I guess.”

Kurt didn't respond to that and led Blaine into the kitchen, going behind the counter and grabbing a couple of leftover meals.  He then walked back out and sat down at one of the tables, watching as Blaine looked around curiously before joining him.

“This is like.. one of those old timey western places.”

Kurt smirked and gave him a nod.  The kitchen, as they called it now, was built over the old saloon and still had the look of a saloon inside - complete with swinging doors and wooden bar.  The actual kitchen wasn't in here, but it's where people came to get food and eat together, so it had acquired the name.

Kurt bit into the sandwich he had before him hungrily and tried to ignore how Blaine watched him eat for a moment before finally succumbing to his own hunger and picking up his sandwich to eat as well.  Most meals were either served on bread of some kind since they didn't have the excess water to wash plates and it also meant less clean up.  Kurt had grabbed a couple of tomato and cucumber sandwiches for them to eat along with some wedges of cooked potatoes on the side.  

“Oh god… this is really good.” Blaine moaned over his sandwich before eagerly digging into it again.

Kurt licked over his lips to save some of the juice of the tomato that had slipped there and nodded, “They do a good job.  I can't imagine living off of canned foods like you've been.”

Blaine shook his head.  “I can't imagine it either now that I've had this.”

“Well I can imagine your stomach might complain when you rejoin your bird friends in the spring.”

“Mmm… yes.  They're going to be so jealous when I tell them about the food here. We sometimes run into other groups that are settled and have their own small farms, but nothing this big or organized.  There must be no access to any major waterways around here.”

Kurt just nodded his confirmation to Blaine, continuing to eat as he did.  Kurt was a neat eater and chewed his food thoroughly between eat bite to savour the flavour.  Blaine on the other hand didn't seem to have the patience to fully chew his food, or at least was really just that hungry, because he tore into the sandwich like it might run away on him, spilling tomato juice all down his fingers which he sloppily sucked and licked off.

“You eat like a five year old.”

Blaine chuckled at that.  “Sorry.  I really was quite hungry but didn't want to be rude about asking.  I didn't even bring a can opener with me despite having all those cans of food.”

Kurt shook his head. “I guess I'll give you a tour once you've finished up.  Or at least once I've finished up since I image you'll be done before me.”

Another chuckled erupted from Blaine and sure enough, he finished well ahead of Kurt who took his time despite Blaine fidgetiness across from him.  

When Kurt was done, he explained to Blaine how meals worked - three per day, anything more you had to hunt or gather for yourself.  If you went scavenging, you were expected to give at least 90% of your findings back to the community.  100% for Blaine since he was also expected to help take care of Trent's food.  When there were dishes to be washed, you had to use your own water rations.  

Blaine nodded as Kurt explained, not speaking at all, and so Kurt led him out then for a tour of the community.  He showed him where to get his daily water rations, where he could trade for non-essentials - like extra clothing, soaps, spices, and even little trinkets.  Kurt made a point of suggesting to Blaine that he could even get a razor there if he wanted, to which Blaine shrugged.

“I need to give everything I can to the community so Trent is taken care of.”

Kurt snorted a little at that. “No one is going to care if you trade for a razor.  In fact, it might even improve your standing.”

Blaine rubbed over the black scruff on his face.  “Really?  You think?”

“You look like a hobo.”

Blaine laughed once again and Kurt knew then that this man was easily amused.  “Everyone tends to look a little homeless when our planet has been overrun by Others and our homes are no more.”

“Still.”

Blaine continued to follow along after Kurt like a puppy, taking in the sights and avoiding the suspicious eyes of other members of the community.  He. thankfully, didn't push Kurt into awkward conversation and only asked the odd clarifying question as Kurt showed him where the workers office was, explained what they did, explained the guard situation, and how most people in the community had an assigned role.

“What's your role?”

Kurt shook his head. “I started off as a kind of worker.  My dad had an auto shop so I did mechanic work - but that got slow after the first couple years once our vehicles died and it was decided we didn't want to attract any unnecessary attention with the noise they make.  Then I took up hunting to help our food supply.  Turns out I'm a decent hunter so I do a bit of that, help out with guarding, fix our solar generators when they need attention, and go on scavenging trips.”

Blaine grinned at him. “So you're the local jack of all trades!”

“You could say that.” Kurt said with a shrug.  Really he didn't fit in well in any specific group so, just like he was before The Tides, he stayed on the periphery.

Kurt then showed Blaine where the invalids and elderly lived, in that old brothel that always gave him an involuntary shudder when he passed by it.  He didn't say anything to Blaine, but Kurt suspected that Trent might end up in there if they couldn't get him walking.  

“What do you do out here for fun?”

Kurt looked back at Blaine, seeing it was a genuine question by how he waited for Kurt's response with rapt attention. “There's a decent board games collection, some people have instruments they play, there's a group of women that have made it their mission to decorate their homes with their do-it-yourself crafts, every now and then they hold a dance… but for the most part, we just live day by day.”

“I meant… what do YOU do.” Blaine reiterated, holding his gaze on Kurt.

“Ah…”  Kurt had to think a moment about that.  What did he do for fun?  What was fun even for him?  “... I don't.  I keep myself busy.”

“Sounds boring.”

Kurt felt his chest tighten up and he whipped his head around to look down at the other man.  “It SOUNDS like I'm making sure I stay alive out here and help others do so as well.  You have no right to judge how boring or not my life is.”

Blaine's hands shot up, palms out in surrender.  “Whoa.  Okay.  Sorry.  Didn't mean to upset you.  Sorry.”

Kurt huffed and looked back ahead as they walked, “In the future.  Keep your opinions to yourself.”

“Sure thing.”

Kurt kept the rest of the tour quick and ended back at the clinic, dropping Blaine back off to spend time with Trent while he went to go check his traps and snares.  For some reason the simple question of what he did for fun was upsetting him and he couldn't figure out why.  It shouldn't have been an issue, except that no matter how hard he tried to think, he couldn't come up with an answer.  Fun wasn't in his life anymore and he couldn't remember the last time he considered something being fun.  Sure the world had changed for him and everyone else, but he still saw other people occupying themselves in their free time with hobbies and friends.  Kurt, however, had nothing else.  He was good at hunting, but he didn't really enjoy it any more than he enjoyed eating or washing himself - it was just something he did to exist.  Beyond that he just worked and slept.  

The fact that fun was no longer in his vocabulary meant that Kurt wasn't living anymore, he was just simply, existing.