"Ugh, Blaine, just once I want to stay in a five-star hotel with feather beds!" Kurt groaned as he fell back on yet another nondescript motel mattress. He closed his eyes, pretending he was at the Ritz in some huge city and taking a quick break before heading out to a date. The scratchy sheets sort of killed the mood, though.

Blaine flopped down next to him so their sides were almost touching. "Next time," he promised, turning his head and smiling at Kurt. Staring at hazel eyes, Kurt returned it. Blaine winked mischievously. "I promise that when we go to a big city, I will risk our lives and try to swindle their scary security so Kurt Hummel can have a feather bed." He laughed when Kurt smacked his arm.

"Damn right, you will!" Kurt tried to glare, but failed. Blaine was just too damn adorable to stay pissed at. He schooled his face into a stern look, but Blaine stretched his arm out to grasp Kurt's hand. Kurt stayed quiet and looked down at their entwined fingers on the ratty comforter.

It felt right; holding hands with Blaine. He slowly stroked Blaine's skin with his thumb, feeling content and perfect and happy. He looked up to see a beautiful face staring back with love in his eyes. Kurt never wanted to kiss Blaine as badly as he did right then.

The lighthearted moment passed in an instant when Blaine's face changed from loving to somber. Kurt's heart thudded in his chest at the nerves in Blaine's eyes.

"Hey. Kurt?" His voice was soft and careful. "Listen, I—"

The door to the room slammed open, startling Kurt. He bolted upright, automatically clutching Blaine's hand and fumbling for a weapon. He felt Blaine doing the same only inches away. A weapon. Kurt needed a weapon, needed something to protect Blaine because that's what he had to do. Kurt needed to protect Blaine, but their bags were gone and Kurt's knives were missing, all of them, which made no sense because Kurt knew for a fact there used to be one in his boot that was now gone. A quick look at the door, and Kurt saw sinuous dark shadows hovering in the doorway menacingly. They twirled around each other, pulsating. Blaine cursed next to him, still trying to find a gun or something while one-handed.

Before he could scream, dark shadows grabbed Kurt's arms and ripped him away from Blaine. Kurt kicked wildly as his arms were pinned to his sides. "Blaine!"

"Kurt!" Blaine dodged a shadow and dove for a gun, but it vanished before Blaine could put a hand on it. As Blaine stared at the floor where a firearm should have been, Kurt saw a shadowy tendril loop around Blaine's arms as well. Blaine shouted and struggled uselessly as the shapes dragged him next to Kurt. They were both facing the now closed door. Blaine looked up at Kurt, eyes wide with terror.

The shadows solidified into vaguely human shapes, but their faces were obscured. Kurt couldn't explain it; it was like his eyes involuntarily slid over their faces and refused to register anything other than a skin-colored blur where eyes and noses and mouths should be. Their grip, though, was iron and Kurt couldn't move an inch. He felt angry tears threatening. Kurt had dreamed of a thousand ways to die over the past few months, but never was Blaine involved. This had to be real.

The room was silent other than Kurt and Blaine's heavy breathing and the tension began to build as they stared at the plain door.

Kurt knew who was going to walk through it the second the door began to open.

"Hello, sweetheart."

The smug voice washed over him. Kurt stayed silent, but glared deeply into those green eyes. He held his chin high, tears forgotten.

Sebastian chuckled. "Pride. You know that's one of the Seven Deadly Sins right? Perhaps you belong with us more than you think." He winked at Kurt's scowl and strode confidently towards the two captured boys. "The silent treatment? How very mature." Sebastian let out a put-upon sigh and turned to Blaine. "How you deal with his mood swings; I'll never know."

To his credit, Blaine kept quiet, but he shot confused glances at Kurt every few seconds. However, Kurt was too busy trying to figure out how the hell Sebastian had found them to notice.

"Anyway, time is short." Sebastian stepped in front of Kurt and crossed his long arms. Kurt calmly gazed up at him. "Have you thought about my offer?"

"The answer is still 'no. Kurt whispered. Sebastian's 'offer' was something Kurt would never consider.

Unconcerned, Sebastian shrugged. "Fair enough." He snapped his fingers and suddenly Blaine was next to him, the shadows still holding Blaine's arms behind his back. Blaine eyed Sebastian nervously and Kurt suddenly realized exactly how exposed Blaine's chest was in that position. His heart dropped.

"No, no, please don't Kurt screamed as Sebastian plunged a knife into Blaine's sternum and tore down, organs and blood spilling out onto the floor. Blaine's eyes filled with shock and pain before turning dull and Kurt could only hear his heart pounding in his ears and Sebastian's cruel laugh and could only see blood so much blood oh my god oh my god Blaine no no no nononono

"NO!" Kurt shouted, bolting upright and nearly falling out of bed.

The sheets tangled around his legs and Kurt fought his way out, a feat that took a few extra seconds as the room was still dark. Finally freed, he stumbled over to Blaine's bed, nearly hysterical and body still shaking from adrenaline and terror. The lump under the covers stirred a little, but Kurt didn't wait before ripping the covers off and scrambling up next to Blaine and forcing his shirt off.

"What the—Kurt? What?" Blaine blinked in the darkness trying to figure out what was going and why Kurt was tearing off his shirt. Not that he really minded Kurt tearing off his shirt; it was just that he had imagined that to happen in a somewhat more well-lit area and not while Kurt was sobbing so hard he couldn't breathe. Kurt's hands felt around his stomach as if searching for something and Blaine struggled not to squirm under the freezing fingers. Evidently he didn't find it as Kurt suddenly drew back, chest heaving. Blaine could barely see him in the dark, so he reached over to the night stand and flicked the lamp on, glancing at the clock. 4:23 in the morning. Only two hours this time.

He sat back, looking at Kurt. The other boy had almost completely calmed now, though he'd retreated to the foot of the bed and had drawn his knees up to his chest. Blaine saw that Kurt was covered in sweat and still trembling, so he waited a few minutes before speaking. This wasn't the first time Kurt had woken him up with a nightmare, though it was the first time Kurt had woken up first.

"Kurt?" he finally ventured.

"I'm sorry," Kurt wiped away a few stay tears. "I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sorry I woke you up."

"It's fine." Blaine sighed when Kurt didn't answer. "Hey. Come here." He reached out and pulled Kurt up to lay next to him. Shockingly, Kurt allowed him too. His moods after the dreams were volatile at best. Sometimes paranoid, sometimes scared, sometimes angry. Very rarely was he cuddly. But Kurt pressed up close to Blaine and squeezed his hand. "Don't apologize for waking me," Blaine said soothingly, stroking Kurt's hand with his thumb. "D'you want to talk about it? They're getting worse; I can tell. We're going to be at Sam's tomorrow, it won't be too long before we can put these behind us." Of course, Sebastian was kind of a problem but that was for another time.

Kurt swallowed, but met Blaine's eyes. "It's getting harder to tell what's real," he whispered. Blaine waited, but that was apparently all Kurt wanted to say on the subject.

He really hoped Sam had a solution.

What'soever I've feared has come to life
What'soever I've fought off became my life
Just when everyday seemed to greet me with a smile
Sunspots have faded
And now I'm doing time
And now I'm doing time
Cause I fell on black days

Blaine absently tapped out the beat on the steering wheel, humming faintly. Kurt stared out of the window.

They'd barely spoken since that morning, and Blaine was convinced Kurt hadn't slept since the nightmare. He studied the boy next to him in short glances. The jeans were definitely looser than they used to be and Kurt's cheekbones stood out sharply. Dark circles under his eyes made Kurt seem even paler than usual. The kid just looked exhausted.

'He's just…searching for any way to break me and… he's winning…'

What Blaine couldn't figure out was how; even when he looked to be on the edge of breaking; Kurt was beautiful. He desperately attempted to focus on the road, but his eyes were continually drawn to the brown-haired, blue-eyed angel next to him. Blaine felt like punching himself in the face.

God help him, he was falling for Kurt Hummel.

Which was definitely not something Kurt needed to deal with at the moment. He had enough on his plate. Hell, his father had died only a few months ago and now he was being stalked by a vicious demon that invades his dreams. Besides, Kurt couldn't feel the same. Though they did seem to be sharing the same bed more often than not lately…no. Blaine pushed all non-platonic thoughts of Kurt to the back of his head. He'd think about everything after the dreams were resolved. Yeah. That was a good plan.

They were only about two hours from Sam's place. With any luck, the walking blond encyclopedia would know how to fight against these dreams and maybe even what that demon was up to. Blaine thought about alerting Sue. She had a soft spot for him, for some reason, and apparently Kurt as well. Maybe he'd talk to her if Sam couldn't help. He should probably put Santana on notice too. The girl was headstrong and crazy, but also fiercely loyal and Blaine had a feeling that loyalty was going to count for a lot in the coming months.

I'm a search light soul they say
But I can't see it in the night
I'm only faking when I get it right

Kurt certainly had been faking before, but he finally reached out for help. And yeah, things looked pretty grim at moment; what with Kurt having daily nightmares and being stalked by a psychotic demon, as well as the 'coming storm' that every hunter kept mumbling about, but things would get better.

They had to. Somehow, despite all the crap Blaine had grown up with, he remained an optimist.

So don't you lock up something that you wanted to see fly
Hands are for shaking
No, not tying
No, not tying

Blaine reached over and grabbed Kurt's hand, smiling at the other boy's sudden surprise. Kurt relaxed after a second and smiled faintly.

"You're cuddly lately," Kurt remarked, smirking.

Shrugging, Blaine risked death by taking his eyes off the road to shoot a playful look at Kurt. God knew the kid didn't smile nearly enough. "Don't even pretend like you don't like it, Hummel." Kurt just raised an eyebrow, but squeezed Blaine's fingers a little tighter before looking out the window again. Blaine drew in a breath. This was a bad idea. This was such a bad idea, but now or never right? "Do you want to talk about last night?" he asked quietly.

But I fell on black days
How would I know that this could be my fate?

As he expected, Kurt didn't reply. Blaine sighed and switched the radio off. It was a commercial anyway. Kurt jumped at the sudden silence.

"Please, Kurt. You were terrified. I've never seen them that bad." But Kurt kept looking out at the Montana countryside. Blaine sighed in frustration. Kurt could be so damn stubborn. Sometimes Blaine felt like screaming at him to drop the act and stop pretending everything was alright when it so clearly wasn't and—

"I didn't know it was a dream until the end." Kurt turned tired blue eyes to Blaine. "All the others, I always knew. And it was always only me. Me and Sebastian." He laughed bitterly. "He's trying a new tactic now."

Well, that didn't sound good. "A new tactic." Blaine repeated.

Kurt nodded calmly. The look in his eyes was starting to make Blaine nervous. It was so blank and numb. Nothing like usual. Kurt's eyes were usually so expressive; holding a million emotions at once. Not like this.

"What tactic?" Blaine asked, a little afraid of the answer.

"You." Blaine frowned, confused. "Instead of hurting me, he hurt you." Kurt fiddled with his jacket's sleeves. "And I had to stand there and watch as he ripped your chest open and danced in your bloody organs." Blaine shivered, but he heard it. A slight tremor in Kurt's voice. He wasn't completely lost. And this would explain why Kurt felt up his torso the night before. He wanted to be sure Blaine was alive and not missing his heart and lungs. Unconsciously, Blaine rubbed at his chest through his shirt.

"Kurt…"

The other boy shook his head. "You better hope Sam can help. Because I can feel myself going crazy and I don't think I can last much longer." He stopped speaking for the rest of the trip.

Sam Evans was exactly what Kurt needed. Dorky, friendly, and smart enough to not openly worry over him like Blaine had been doing for past three days. Kurt loved the curly-haired hunter; he had for awhile; but Blaine could so overbearing Kurt had to fake sleep sometimes in order to breathe. Not Sam. The blonde boy, who was actually younger than Kurt, took one look at Kurt, smiled, shook his hand, and immediately asked for his opinion on Avatar while guiding him through a house that was the wet dream of every nerd in the country.

Posters of obscure sci-fi TV shows and movies covered the walls and figurines of superheroes decorated every available surface. Stacks of comics lined the walls, and a huge flatscreen TV took up a whole wall in the living room. Even Blaine raised his eyebrows at the number of movies and video games his friend seemed to own. When Kurt mentioned how much he liked Nathan Fillion in Firefly, he was pretty sure Sam considered proposing right there. Although honestly? Nathan Fillion and Sean Maher plus a young Zac Efron? Every gay guy should be obsessed with that show.

Sam's house was actually a small, old ranch. It looked ordinary from the outside with its wooden sides and brick chimney, but inside, it was outfitted with the latest securities and electronics, as Kurt saw when Sam led them down the stairs and into the basement.

It was like walking into the Enterprise. Several computer screens were set up, one showing a map of the continental United States covered with red dots and another scanning codes. Huge servers stood in a corner. In stark contrast to all the modernity on one side of the basement, the other could have come straight out of a 17th century hunter's home base. Old papers and maps were scattered on a huge table and a whole wall was covered with every kind of weapon from scythes to swords to machine guns. There was even a huge cabinet that gave off slightly bitter fumes that Kurt suspected held herbs for spells. Books were piled around the room, ranging from old to so ancient Kurt though they'd crumble to dust when he touched them. A bookcase took up yet another wall.

"Welcome to my humble abode!" Sam spread his arms wide, grinning widely and obviously proud of his collection.

"Holy shit, you're like our Lucius Fox." Kurt laughed, amazed by Sam's workspace. It was incredible.

Sam gaped at him for a few seconds before turning to Blaine. "Marry him."

"I—we're not dating!" Was Blaine blushing? Kurt privately smiled to himself as he inspected Sam's impressive gun collection.

"Doesn't matter. Marry him." Sam waved his hand dismissively and leaned against the table, shifting some of the papers. "Anyway. Kurt."

"Hmm?" Kurt crossed his arms nervously. Sam's tone wasn't inspiring a lot of confidence. Blaine was at his side in an instant, mirroring Kurt's apprehensive gaze.

"I've been doing research on demons. You said Sebastian has white eyes, right?" Sam asked. He opened one of the thicker books on the table. From what Kurt could see, the book looked to be in Latin with a few graphic pictures of monsters eating humans.

Kurt nodded jerkily.

Sam sighed and ran his fingers through his blonde hair. "Look, I'm going to be honest with you. We actually don't know a lot about demons." Kurt felt Blaine's hand on his shoulder, steadying him. This was not what Kurt wanted to hear. Sam continued. "There's a lot of lore about demons but it's difficult to tell what's real and what's not, you know? And going up against a bloodthirsty demon with an experimental tactic is downright suicidal. Also, demons are actually quite rare."

He tried to repress a snort. He really did. But seriously?

"Well, they used to be rare," Sam amended quickly. "Maybe twenty or thirty possessions a year."

"But now…" Blaine said quietly.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Now. We're already up to fifty known ones in the past two months. Kurt, we just don't know how demons work. I've been through every book I have," Kurt suddenly noticed the faint shadows under Sam's eyes. "And there's nothing to suggest that demons can control a human's dreams."

The news hit Kurt hard. He hadn't realized how heavily he'd pinned his hopes on Sam stopping the dreams until Sam said he couldn't do it. "So that's it then? I'm screwed?" Kurt smiled sadly. He was stupid to think he'd ever escape Sebastian.

"I didn't say that."

Kurt jerked his head up and stared at Sam, who looked quite pleased with himself. Blaine frowned.

"Sam, what are you talking about? Can you help Kurt?" Blaine voice turned hopeful with the last sentence.

The blond boy repressed a smile. "Nope. I can't help him." He paused. "But I know someone who can!" He bounced a little with his outburst.

Kurt wondered if he was going to kill Sam or hug him first.

Apparently, Blaine was on the same wavelength because the hunter growled and glared at Sam. "Quit talking in circles, Evans, and spit it out!"

With a pout, Sam crossed his arms. "You guys are grumpy." He pouted. "Brittany."

The name sounded familiar. Kurt glanced at Blaine, who looked confused.

"Britt? Santana's girlfriend?"

Oh. That one. But wasn't she…

"That's the one." Sam nodded. "You know how Britt was always a little spacey? Well after the werewolf attack, she cleared up a little. Turns out she's a psychic."

A noise from upstairs interrupted Kurt's confusion. Sam looked at the ceiling and grinned when a female voice called out. "Speak of the devil." He grinned.

Brittany Peirce was exactly as Kurt pictured her and at the same time, completely different. When he walked up the stairs, a tall, thin blonde with sweet eyes and a blissful smile waved from behind a man in a wheelchair with an unfortunate sweater vest and glasses.

"Artie," he said, holding out a hand to Kurt. He watched Kurt with a hesitant expression and Kurt tried to hide his nervousness as he shook Artie's hand. Brittany barely waited for him to drop her boyfriend's had before she pulled Kurt into a surprisingly strong hug.

Kurt caught Blaine's eye over her shoulder. The hunter just smiled fondly, so Kurt gingerly returned Brittany's embrace. Though Blaine was always touching him—clapping his shoulder, holding his hand, hugs—Kurt generally shied away from human contact. Too many bad memories. But Brittany was…different. Not like Blaine, because Blaine was Blaine and Kurt suspected that the boy craved the feel of another person (and maybe liked him—just a little, though, like a brother), but Brittany's touch made him feel warm. Tension drained out of him and Kurt felt his shoulders relax. He pulled away to see Brittany looking at him expectantly.

"Wow," Kurt croaked out.

Brittany giggled. "Feel better? It's not healthy to carry all that meanness and sadness around. It makes everyone else sad too and I don't want my unicorns sad." She squeezed his hand and winked at Blaine, who laughed.

"God, Britt, I missed you." Blaine walked up and threw his arms around her, holding her close. And—was that jealousy that just flared up in Kurt's chest? Fuck. He needed more sleep. Brittany quietly asked about Santana.

"She misses you," Blaine whispered back.

Brittany smiled sadly but let go of Blaine and pulled Kurt with her to Sam's couch. Blaine sat on Kurt's other side, sitting closer than normal. Sam took the armchair and Artie wheeled himself as close to Brittany as possible. The way he looked at Brittany—as if she was the only thing that mattered—Kurt hoped he have that one day. If this thing with Sebastian ever gets cleared up…maybe with Blaine.

But Brittany was staring at him, her head cocked to the side. Kurt quickly wiped his mind free of Blaine and waited, hands still held by the psychic.

She released one hand and pushed back a strand of hair off his forehead, resting her hand there. She closed her eyes and, under the cool touch, Kurt did the same. Calmness flowed from Brittany's hand into his body and Kurt breathed deeply. He hadn't felt at peace like this since before his father's death.

Something pushed at his mind. Kurt relaxed when he realized it was Britt, and he knew instinctively that he'd have to let her in if he wanted her to help him. Slowly, Kurt allowed her to slip behind his defenses and braced himself for what she would find.

Dad's funeral so sad wish he was here rain rain hazel eyes thank god for Blaine otherwise I'd go crazy…

Want to help can't let people die and sit around doing nothing I just want to help let Blaine understand…

Adult I'm not a child I can take care of myself why can't Blaine listen needs to get over himself I'm not a child…

The road driving calming Blaine next to him strumming on the guitar and singing a pretty song and smiling just for him god he's beautiful and I don't think he realizes how perfect he is but he is he's perfect and sweet and maybe one day he'll be mine and I'll be his if only if only…

Dreams dreams don't want to sleep scared don't like them can't tell Blaine yet he won't understand he'll leave me and i don't want to go not yet they'll go away i can deal with it icandealwithit

Pain pain pain blood no screaming oh god oh god it hurts so much make it stop Sebastian Sebastian stop it no no no I won't do it I won't I won't stop it stop hurting him no Blaine please please stop —

Kurt jerked away from her hand, breathing hard and blinking away tears. Blaine's arms instantly wrapped around his waist and he whispered words of comfort in his ear. God, that more intense than he was expecting. So many feelings. How could he feel all those things at once? No wonder Kurt felt like he was going crazy. But Britt—that was so much, could she handle it? Kurt forced the panic down and finally met Brittany's eyes.

She must have jumped away from him because she was sitting in Artie's lap watching him and Blaine with tears running down her face and Artie rubbing her back soothingly.

"My dolphins," Brittany whispered. Kurt winced at the pain in her eyes. It was his fault. He should have just dealt with the dreams on his own. He saw Sam get up in the corner of his eye.

"Coffee," the blonde boy muttered as he walked out of the room.

Sam's coffee was awful, but Blaine choked it down. Next to him, Kurt sipped at his herbal tea, holding the cup with both hands. Blaine saw the tremors, though.

Brittany still hadn't spoken since coming out of the weird trance she'd been in with Kurt, but she still looked like she was about to cry every time she looked at Kurt. No one else was talking either.

Blaine put his mug down and sighed. "Britt, can you help us?" He asked, slipping his hand into Kurt's under the table. Kurt stared at him, but allowed his hand to be held as he looked back at Brittany. Blaine didn't miss the small gleam of hope in his eyes.

Instead of answering, though, Brittany turned and whispered to Artie. Kurt's hand stiffened in Blaine's and the tension practically rolled off of the exhausted boy.

Finally, though, Brittany stopped whispering and smiled at them. "I can block the dreams." She giggled at the relief on Blaine and Kurt's faces. "It's going to take some time though. I have to get the ingredients and Artie's going to help with the casting so it'll be a few days." Blaine winced at the thought of Kurt suffering for even longer, but Kurt was nodding.

"I can handle a few more days," Kurt said quietly.

"Good!" Brittany clapped her hands. "Oh, and Sam doesn't know it yet, but he's going to get a case in a few minutes so you two dolphins can deal with that while you wait, ok?"

Kurt glanced at Blaine, obviously not sure if she was being serious. Blaine just grinned. "Wait for it," he whispered. He'd always noticed Brittany's little flashes of clairvoyance so if even Sam acknowledged her abilities, Blaine wasn't about to doubt her.

Sure enough, Sam excused himself to check his programs, and was back several minutes later with a sizable file and a bemused expression on his face. He tossed the pile of papers at Blaine and sat back down, staring at Brittany.

"You're amazing," he said.

Brittany giggled and snuggled into Artie's arms. "I know," her boyfriend said.

Thumbing through the file, the thrill of a hunt thrumming through his body. It wasn't too far away; just into Washington state. "You up for a haunted house?" Blaine nudged Kurt with a smile.

"'Course." Kurt smiled back and stood up. "I'm going to go check the car. I think the brakes were making some funny noises on the way over. Sam, can you show me where you keep your tools?" Blaine watched as Kurt and Sam drifted outside before putting the file down on the table and sighing.

It was such a relief to know that in a few days, Kurt would be alright.

"You care about him," Brittany said, fingering Artie's bowtie. It wasn't a question, but Blaine found himself answering.

"Yeah. A lot."

Artie nodded. "We could tell." When Blaine frowned, he continued. "You don't need to be a psychic to notice how you look at him."

Oh. Blaine hoped he wasn't too creepy. Did Kurt notice?

"No," Brittany lifted herself from Artie and sat on Blaine's lap, winding her arms around his neck. "Kurt's not thinking about that. But he likes you more than he liked Jesse." Brittany began playing with his curls. Blaine couldn't stop the small seed of hope from sprouting at that statement. Jesse had been Kurt's boyfriend so if he liked Blaine more than him, then there was hope, right? Blaine sighed and squeezed Brittany tighter. "It's going to get bad for him," Brittany said sadly, still running her fingers through his hair. "He's gonna need you. And you're gonna need him. Please don't leave him, Blaine." Blaine jumped when she suddenly hugged him tight, her face buried in the crook of his neck. "Don't leave him."

"I won't." Blaine promised.

I can't.

I think I love him.

-Glenwood, Washington, Laurent Estate, 1904-

The elegant woman set her crystal glass down on the mahogany table and sighed deeply, fighting back despair. This was supposed to be their shot. Their time. She turned her head to the great window that overlooked the estate's magnificent front lawn. The sun was long set and the moon cast a silvery light on the grounds. Absently, the woman fingered a lock of golden hair and briefly considered lighting a candle. But she couldn't bring herself to care about sitting in the dark. Lord knows she's spending most of her time there anyway.

"The moonlight is gorgeous, isn't it sweetheart?"

Her heart leapt into her throat as the deep voice spoke. She turned her green eyes on her husband, automatically standing, smoothing her hair and fixing her dress. Jonathan Laurent did not take kindly to anything less than a perfect appearance.

"Eleanor? When I ask you a question, I expect an answer." His voice was hard.

"Yes, sir." Eleanor whispered. Her heart pounded and she prayed her husband would be satisfied with her answer. She couldn't see his expression as he stood in the shadows but she could picture his dark hair slicked back and his neatly trimmed beard. And his deep brown eyes, which had once looked at her with such warmth but since moving West had become cold and angry most days.

She wondered how it had come to this: she and her children tip-toeing around the huge house Jonathan had built for them, terrified of setting him off. Anything could do it these days, from a too-loud giggle to a wrinkled skirt. More than once she had to usher her daughters upstairs into their rooms while Jonathan raged below them, breaking dishes and throwing chairs. Sometimes, she heard him talking to invisible people, long arguments that left him exhausted and emotionally drained. After his episodes, he often sought her out and cried into her arms as he begged her to stay and forgive him; that this would never happen again. But it always did.

Eleanor thought about taking Marie and Claire and leaving on the next train back to New York more often. Tonight was one of those times.

Instead, she hung her head demurely and silently prayed that Jonathan would let her be in peace.

A slim finger under her chin lifted her head up at she stared into her husband's eyes. "You think about leaving me," Jonathan said, his voice calm. A cold tendril of fear wound up Eleanor's spine.

"N—no," she stammered.

"Don't lie!" Eleanor cringed at his shout, bracing for a hit. When it didn't come, she looked up cautiously. "Tell me the truth, my love," Jonathan smiled, stroking her hair gently.

Eleanor swallowed hard and lowered her eyes. "I she stopped when the moonlight caught her husband's suit. His whole front shone wetly with a dark liquid. "J—Jonathan?" She reached out slowly to touch his suit. He remained still, allowing her to pull her hand back and inspect her stained fingers. "Why…why are you covered in blood?" Eleanor's voice shook as she stared at the deep red liquid on her hand.

"I suppose it's from when I slit our daughters' throats a few minutes ago."

She jerked her head up in shock. Jonathon smiled back at her, a content expression across his face. "You aren't allowed to leave me, my love." He lifted a bloodstained knife.

Eleanor screamed and choked as the sharp blade bit into her skin and pain blossomed in her neck.

"You're never allowed to leave me."

-Present-

The Laurent Estate was the most enormous house Kurt had ever seen and had it not been boarded up and covered in ivy, the manor might have been the most gorgeous as well. But the wood was old and rotted and the roof had patches of tiles missing and uncovered windows were mostly broken panes of glass. Only the bright yellow crime scene tape across the front door showed any signs of modernity.

Blaine pulled the car around to the side of the house where it would be hidden from the road and parked next to a sludge-filled in-ground fountain. Judging from the amount of algae and muck accumulated in the foot-deep pool, Kurt guessed it hadn't seen a cleaner in decades. He eyed the empty windows that loomed above the courtyard. The file detailed a violent and bloody history for the house and Kurt shivered at the thought of how many deaths this ground had seen over the years. It felt like the house was watching them.

"Creepy, isn't it?" Blaine leaned over to look at the Laurent Estate through Kurt's window, his breath tickling Kurt's neck. Kurt just nodded. "Looks like rain too. Come on, let's get everything inside before it gets too dark and I'll see if I can get the power on." Blaine patted Kurt's knee and smiled before getting out of the car. Kurt swallowed a deep sense of foreboding before following.

Inside, they dumped their bags in the dusty living room. Most of the rooms still had old furniture, which Kurt found odd. Wouldn't everything of value have been sold or stolen over the years? He picked up an old vase, inspecting the delicately painted flowers. This had to be worth a decent amount.

"Hey Blaine?" He called out. Blaine looked up from where he was searching one of the duffels for wire cutters. "Why is all this stuff still here? Shouldn't robbers have gotten it a long time ago?" The file said the house had been empty since at least the seventies so they certainly had enough time.

Blaine shrugged. "I've seen it before in some other haunted house cases." He finally found the wire cutter and grinned triumphantly. "Carry these for me?" He handed Kurt a set of jumper cables. "Usually it's because of rumors surrounding the house," he continued as he led Kurt into the basement. It smelled dank and musty and Kurt wrinkled his nose in disgust. Squatting absolutely sucked. "Stories and stuff. 'Steal from this house and the ghosts will kill you. Blaine deepened his voice and Kurt giggled. God, it's been awhile since he'd done that. And Blaine looked pretty happy too.

"So we just willingly walked into a house where the locals are too afraid to even steal from because of murderous ghosts?" Kurt raised an eyebrow as he gingerly leaned against the grimy wall.

Blaine pretended to think as he opened the circuit breaker. "Yeah, pretty much." He winked and began stripping the wires. "Hey, pull on that light bulb next to you will you?"

Kurt yanked on the thin chain dangling near his head. The bare bulb remained off.

Once the wires were stripped, Blaine began doing…something to them. Kurt just watched Blaine attach the wires to each other and the jumper cables in some complicated manner before—

POP—CRACK

Kurt jumped as the bulb crackled and sparked before glowing softly. Blaine grinned, looking at Kurt as if he expected approval.

"My hero," Kurt drawled, hiding a smile. Blaine frowned until he caught Kurt snickering.

"You're an ass," Blaine lightly punched Kurt, following him up the stairs and back to the living room, flicking on light switches as they went. Weak light pulsed from ancient bulbs, but it was enough that they could see in the quickly fading dusk.

The house smelled musty and most of the surfaces were covered in a thick layer of dust. Blaine dug out two flashlights, tossing one to Kurt, along with a container of salt. Kurt wandered over to the kitchen, ducking under the yellow plastic caution tape. The lights in here were mostly broken, so Kurt carefully trained the flashlight along the floor, taking in the dark stain and white chalk outline.

"Damn, that's a lot of blood." Kurt whistled softly.

"Beatrice Kennings, age eighteen, bled to death two days ago by means of a sharp object to the throat." Blaine recited, coming up behind Kurt. "Wow, that is a lot of blood." He knelt down and inspected the dried pool. Kurt nodded and kept exploring the kitchen.

It was unpleasant, with the linoleum peeling and the wallpaper hanging down in strips as well as the thick stench of old blood permeating the air. The counter was coated in dust except for one rounded circle where the faded blue counter shone through. Kurt stared at it for a second before opening the cabinets above the counter. Yep. There must have been a plate on the counter. Maybe it had gotten broken when Beatrice was killed.

Kurt froze. "Did you hear that?" he hissed.

"Hmm? Hear what?" Blaine stood up, training the flashlight around the room.

"That!" Kurt pressed close to Blaine, eyes wide. Muffled thumps and a hushed curse came from the entryway. "Blaine, do something!"

"What?" Blaine groaned. They still had no idea what was even in this house. He heard the front door open and he swore softly, motioning for Kurt to hide next to the doorway. Kurt did so, flashlight switched off and handgun ready, while Blaine did the same on the other side. From the other room, Kurt heard two voices: one he was fairly certain was a woman's and the other high and stuttering. He caught Blaine's eye and mouthed what the hell? Blaine shrugged in response, equally confused. They didn't sound like ghosts.

"Israel! Quit your whimpering and get the camera out!" A loud smack and a whimper followed the woman's voice.

"B-b-but it's dark in here! W-wait, is that light?"

Kurt silently cursed to himself. The kitchen opened into the living room, so of course the intruders would be able to see it. He tightened his grip on his gun.

A flashlight beam switched on and shone through the kitchen doorway. Kurt tensed, but the beam could catch him from where he stood. Across the doorway, Blaine caught his eye and motioned for Kurt to wait. Kurt nodded slightly, pulse thumping. Booted feet crept forward and Kurt heard the man hyperventilating as the woman pushed him forward. Kurt kept watching Blaine, who held up three fingers and began to silently count down.

They were almost through the door when Blaine reached one and jumped out, Kurt close behind and switching on his flashlight.

"FREEZE! HANDS UP!" Blaine roared.

Kurt almost laughed at the screams from the two intruders. The skinny man with an enormous red afro shrieked and leaped back onto the dark-haired, heavy-set woman with thick glasses behind him. Kurt caught the man's video camera before it hit the ground while Blaine kept his gun trained on the terrified pair.

Within seconds, the woman recovered and shoved the man off, smoothing her dark hoodie. "Who're you?" she asked bluntly. Afro-Boy hid behind her.

"I have the gun. I'm asking questions." Blaine snarled. "What the fuck are you two idiots doing? Don't you know what this place is?" He glared at them.

'Fro straightened up, casting a haughty look at Blaine. "Of course we know where we are. The Laurent Estate, aka, 'House of Death.'"

Kurt and Blaine exchanged looks. That particular name hadn't turned up in their file. The man misinterpreted their confusion and let out a put-upon sigh.

He dug around in his pocket and pulled out two dark business cards with a superior attitude. Kurt smiled thinly as he took one, Blaine gingerly accepting the other. He read the card, squinting at the light lettering against the black paper.

Spectral Spies
THE BEST GHOST HUNTERS IN BUSINESS
(not trademarked, there's a space)

Kurt raised an eyebrow at the pair, flipping it over.

Spectral Spies is:
Lauren Zizes (expert and editor)
Jacob Ben Israel (cameraman and blogger)

A website was also listed.

Oh joy. Amateur hunters. When Kurt looked up, Blaine motioned for him to follow him.

"Excuse us for a second." Blaine smiled tightly at Lauren and Jacob and pulled Kurt back into the kitchen. "What the fuck do we do?" He hissed to Kurt.

"What? What? Why the hell are you asking me, Mr. Expert?" Kurt whispered back, smacking Blaine's shoulder lightly. "Don't you have experience with this kind of shit?" He looked back at Lauren, who was texting while Jacob was inspecting his camera for damage. Jacob took a step back and promptly tripped over himself, landing with a heavy thump. Lauren rolled her eyes and took a picture of him with her phone.

Blaine groaned and rubbing his face. "No, most people aren't this stupid." He watched Jacob stand up and sneeze. "Oh Lord. Ok. Um. Let's try to get them to leave." Kurt nodded in agreement, revolted at Jacob currently wiping his nose with his sleeve. "Alright, game time." Blaine sighed.

When they walked back into the hallway, Lauren wasted no time.'Kay. Who're you two amateurs?"

Kurt blinked. "Um. Amateurs?"

"Yeah. We're professionals." Kurt stared at the woman. "We're here investigating the house."

"To put the tortured souls to rest!" Jacob interjected, video camera up and running. He pointed it at Blaine. "Please state your name and occupation for the internet."

Blaine glared at it for second. "Blaine. That's Kurt." Kurt raised an eyebrow but otherwise ignored the camera.

"Well, Blaine. Kurt." Lauren acknowledged them both. "This house is not any ordinary house." She paused dramatically. Kurt waited, arms crossed. Lauren lowered her voice. "There has been much death in this house. Israel?"

"Yes!" Jacob turned the camera on himself. "Hello fellow Spies! We're here at the House of Murders, also known as the Laurent Estate after the original owners. Built in 1902 by Jonathan Laurent for his wife and two daughters, he moved here from New York for a new life. Sadly, he went insane by the end of two years and killed his family with an axe." Jacob fumbled the camera as he took an old and worn photograph out and held it in front of the lens. "This is the wife, Eleanor, isn't she like, really really hot?" Jacob giggled until Lauren smacked his head. "Right. Anyway, the next owners were Richard and Madeline Strode and their daughter, Laura, in 1919. Madeline shot herself after a year and the husband and daughter moved out. But that's only the beginning," Jacob grinned.

Kurt felt a little sick at his complete lack of compassion. He had heard the history of the house before; it was detailed in the file Sam gave him, but these people deserved some respect. He didn't like hearing the deaths being rattled off like a shopping list.

"In 1934, the house opened as St Peter's Home for Children. The priest claimed the orphans were demons and managed to murder four of the boys with a knife before the nuns stopped him. Then in 1959, the house was bought by the Takagawa family. Do you see a trend here? The father shot his wife and son and tried to burn the house down, but was caught and sentence to life in a mental institution. The last owners were the Cassels' in 1972, a family with two children who lasted 3 months before leaving and shutting up the place forever. Until now." Jacob turned the camera around and pushed through Kurt and Blaine into the kitchen. He focused on the chalk outline on the floor. "Two days ago, Beatrice Kennings entered the house on a dare, but did not walk out." He turned the camera on himself again. "Who killed her? Why are there so many ghosts here? Can we put them to rest and save the town? We. Will. Find. Out." The camera flipped to Lauren, who held a thumbs up. "We are the Spectral Spies!" Jacob grinned at Kurt and Blaine, waiting for praise.

They were silent. Blaine tried to open his mouth, but was at a loss for words. Kurt stared very judgmentally.

"We're spending the night so if you two could clear out, that'd be great," Lauren opened a bag of M&Ms and began munching. Kurt noticed the sleeping bag by her feet. The statement seemed to snap Blaine out of his shock.

"Ok. No. You guys have to leave. You are way out of your league." Blaine began pushing a resisting Jacob out of the room. "Go, get out while you still can He froze. The flashlights were flickering.

Puzzled, Lauren smacked hers, but the beam continued to waver. Blaine let go of Jacob, looking pointedly at Kurt. They both readied their guns, eyes darting everywhere.

There. Behind Jacob. A thin blonde woman, her back to them, stood, shaking. Kurt recognized the blue dress as a style from the early 1900s. She was crying softly.

"Israel—the camera!" Lauren hissed. Jacob hurriedly brought the camera up, the light shining on the woman.

She flickered—disappeared—reappeared in front of Jacob, who screamed and scrambled away. The woman—Kurt thought she might be Eleanor Laurent—had red eyes from crying as well as a mangled and bloodied throat. She gestured wildly, mouth opening and closing but only small grunts coming out.

"Blaine…" Kurt muttered. "I think she's trying to tell us something."

Eleanor was practically sobbing with frustration when all the lights went out and Kurt heard the unmistakable sound of locks engaging all over the house.

"Fuck."

"Everything thing's locked." Blaine scowled as he walked back into the living room. The flashlights were working again, but he and Kurt had scrounged up a few gas lanterns from the basement that were set around the room. Jacob was huddled on the floor, shaking while Lauren casually ate her way through another package of candy. Blaine rolled his eyes at them and turned to Kurt.

"Phone's are out." Kurt sighed. "Lauren's been trying ever couple of minutes since you left but there's no signal."

"Awesome." Blaine muttered. He knelt down and opened one of their duffels. At the very least, they were probably dealing with a ghost. Or multiple ghosts. Either way, getting out of this house alive tonight would harder than Blaine expected and now he had to keep two idiot civilians safe as well. Shaking his head, Blaine grabbed the salt and tossed it to Jacob, who barely caught it.

"What's this for?" Jacob sniffed at the container suspiciously. Blaine closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe deeply. And not rip that Jew-fro out of the kid's head.

Luckily, Kurt answered first. "Salt can keep some ghosts away. Just like iron. If a ghost comes into contact with it, they lose their hold on our world for a little while." Kurt took one the guns Blaine was holding and checked the bullets. "Or salt can be used as a barrier to prevent a ghost from attacking you." Satisfied, Kurt stuck the gun in his coat pocket. "I thought you guys were ghost hunters. Don't you know about this?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. These two wouldn't know a ghost if one came up and bit them in the ass then tap danced across their nose.

Jacob stared at Kurt. "Wait so you guys are like, ghost hunters?"

Kurt shrugged. "Among other things."

Blaine ignored them as Lauren and Jacob began arguing with Kurt about the finer points of tracking a ghost. Enough. They needed information. This house had to have some answers about how to put the ghosts to rest.

"Alright. Shut up!" Blaine glared. Jacob and Lauren fell silent while Kurt raised an eyebrow, obviously amused. Blaine ignored him. "We need to know more about what's going on in this house if we're going to make it out of tonight alive."

"Alive?" Jacob paled and Lauren smacked his head again.

This was like working with children. "Yeah, alive. Clearly the last guest didn't go over too well," Blaine stared pointedly at the entrance to the kitchen next to Kurt. Lauren shifted closer to Jacob. Blaine sighed. "Since it's obvious that you two have absolutely no idea what you're doing, I think we should split up. Kurt, you and Lauren can search the upstairs and I'll take Jacob and check the basement real quick." Blaine shot a you owe me look at Kurt. "Then we'll join you upstairs. There's nothing else on this floor, but if the basement and the upstairs are clear we can search this again."

Jacob raised his hand. Blaine rolled his eyes. "Yes, Jacob?"

"Um, what are we looking for?" Blaine blanched. Even Kurt looked interested.

"Uh, anything that has to do with the deaths here. Papers, things that might have human remains. Like hair or blood," he clarified. "Anything out of the ordinary."

Kurt uncrossed his arms and patted Lauren's shoulder. "Sounds good. Come on, Zizes. Adventures await." He guided the girl out of the room and into the foyer.

Watching them go, Blaine silently prayed for the strength to not strangle the boy next to him.

"Guess it's you and me, buddy!" Jacob grinned. Then sneezed and wiped his nose with his hand.

This was not going to go well. Kurt owed him forever. And the kid was taking out the camera.

"So, Blaine Anderson, what is your relationship with Kurt Hummel?"

Blaine stopped on the stairs and glared at the camera, wincing a little at the bright light shining in his face. "That's none of your business." He turned and kept walking, Jacob following with the camera.

"So you like him?" Blaine didn't answer. "Does he know? Did you tell him yet?" Good lord, this kid never shut up. "Are you gay?"

"Yes." Blaine shined his flashlight around the basement. It was dark and dank, with cement walls and floor and cardboard boxes piled in every corner. He pulled a few times on the light bulb string but the bulb remained stubbornly dark.

"Top or bottom?"

"Seriously?" Blaine yelped. "I will shoot you. Don't test me." He narrowed his eyes at Jacob, who gulped and nodded. Blaine grabbed one the boxes at glanced inside. Children's toys. He put it back.

Jacob filmed him searching a tall metal cabinet for a few minutes before getting bored. Blaine kept rubbing his forehead for some reason. Jacob considered asking about it, but Blaine's earlier threat made him think twice. Instead, Jacob decided to wander around the basement to possibly get more footage. The ghost from earlier had been amazing, and he knew traffic from the web would skyrocket once the video was uploaded. Plus Lauren might let him touch her boobs.

But this house had to have more ghosts and he'd seen the pictures of the murder victims and some of the ladies were hot. Jacob shifted; his pants slightly tight. Just because they're dead doesn't mean he couldn't admire, right?

The camera's light illuminated more boxes. He couldn't see Blaine anymore but he heard the man's mutterings. Jacob rolled his eyes. What a douche. Him and his partner. He knew what salt did to ghosts; he just forgot. It wasn't his fault.

Jacob stopped. Was that…crying? He peeked around a stack of boxes and nearly dropped his camera. There, in the middle of the space, was a slime brunette with beautiful brown eyes. Her arms were wrapped around her thin frame as she sobbed. "Help me…" she cried, reaching out to Jacob.

Hot. Damn. Jacob quickly tried to smooth his hair down, which refused to cooperate. But whatever. A sexy lady was reaching out to him for help. Jacob couldn't believe it. Take that, Blaine Anderson. He stepped closer to the woman, not noticing the gun in her hands.

When Blaine looked up from the musty files, it took him a moment to realize Jacob wasn't hanging around with the damn video camera. He looked around, grabbing the flashlight and pointing it all around. Nothing.

Shit.

Where the fuck could the kid go? Blaine began walking, working his way through the maze of boxes stacked in the room. God, he's so annoying. When I find him, I should just shoot him and put him out of his misery. Blaine stopped and blinked. Where had that thought come from? A stabbing pain erupted behind his eyes and Blaine winced, pressing the heels of his hand to his forehead. He had no idea why these headaches suddenly decided to start. But they seemed to stop just as quickly. Maybe he'd grab some Tylenol or something after he found Jacob. Blaine sighed in relief when the pain subsided. He looked around another stack of boxes, No Jacob. Just before Blaine was about to panic, there was a high-pitched scream followed by a loud bang.

"Jacob!" Blaine shouted and bolted down row of boxes. He couldn't tell where the screams came from until there was a second, and moments later Blaine stumbled into an open space.

A beautiful woman in a slim cream dress and a bob cut stood over Jacob, a gun in her hands. Jacob lay on the floor, clutching his left arm. His shirt had a growing red stain. A few feet away, his video camera sat on a box, though it looked unharmed.

The woman looked up, startled, but Blaine raised his shotgun and fired. She vanished in a hail of small flames. Jacob was incoherent at this point, delirious with pain and fear. He babbled on and on the woman, who Blaine recognized as Madeline Strode, while Blaine carried him back upstairs to the first aid kit. Jacob clutched his video camera and moaned.

Blaine didn't like this. The ghosts here could interact a little too well with the material world for comfort. And this was the first time he'd ever heard of a ghost shooting someone.

Hopefully Kurt was having better luck.

As it turned out, Kurt was not.

The second floor was dark, with a thick carpet that muffled Kurt and Lauren's footsteps and creepy portraits on the wall that seemed to follow them. Kurt had already walked through several cobwebs which was not okay because spiders? No. Lauren wasn't helping either. She had moved on to gum and was currently chomping on it loudly and blowing bubbles. Good. Lord.

"When are you gonna tell Anderson you're in love with him?"

Kurt whipped his head around and stared at Lauren in shock. She winced at the light from his flashlight but otherwise looked bored. "Excuse me?" Kurt managed, blushing.

Lauren blew another bubble. "I don't have to be psychic to know you got it bad for the guy. And I'm gonna assume he's gay by how he looks at you too." She opened one of the doors and peered in. "So. When are you two gonna get it on?"

Kurt rolled his eyes and pushed past her into the room. It looked like a child's bedroom. Two twin beds sat next to each other with a dresser between them. A toy chest was under the window and Kurt could see toys strewn across the floor in the faint moonlight. Surprisingly, the mirror above the dresser was still intact. Kurt touched the comforters; they had a princess pattern on them. Lauren hit the light switch just in case, but to their surprise, the lamps flickered to life. Though the room was dusty, dirty and abandoned, Kurt could see how it must have looked with two little girls living in it. Full of life and happiness. Instead of cold and dark and abandoned. He sat on the edge of one of the beds.

"We're not going to 'get it on.' Blaine's my friend." He finally said in answer to Lauren's question.

Lauren sat on the opposite bed, eying him up and down. Kurt fought the urge to shiver.

"Blaine likes you too. I don't get it." Kurt had to admire how she said whatever she wanted. He wished he could too. But he couldn't.

"I can't be with Blaine." The words hurt his chest. Kurt kept his eyes downcast.

He felt Lauren rolling her eyes. "Why not? Do you even have a good reason?"

Because I have a crazy demon stalker who wants me to do things and he'll kill Blaine if he thinks it will help me break. And I can't put Blaine in that kind of danger.

"I just can't!" Kurt snapped, shoving his thoughts aside.

Lauren stared at him but Kurt ignored her in favor of examining the dresser. He yanked the drawers out roughly, shoving them back in with they were empty. Lauren opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it and wandered over to the toy chest. They worked in silence for a few minutes before the lights began flickering. Kurt turned around, slowly drawing out his gun. Lauren edged her way closer to him.

Kurt focused on keeping the gun steady and glanced around the room, not sure what to expect. Suddenly, two little girls stood before him, holding hands.

The girls looked to be around eight and six respectively; both wearing braided pigtails and plain white nightgowns. Their eyes were sunken and dark, staring at Kurt and Lauren calmly. Kurt recognized them.

"Marie and Claire." Kurt breathed. The two daughters the original owner murdered. The girls flickered, appeared coated in blood and cuts, and reappeared clean. The older one laughed.

"You're going to die in here." She told Kurt, her voice echoing slightly.

"Everyone does." The smaller one said sadly. The girls vanished.

Kurt stared at the spot before turning to Lauren. She looked slightly queasy. "Come on," Kurt muttered, beckoning for her to follow him. Before they could leave, however, a little boy blocked their path.

Jumping back, Kurt nearly knocked Lauren over but she kept him on his feet. The little boy sniffled, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his school uniform. It was cut and Kurt saw the boy was still bleeding from wounds all over his tiny boy. He cried while Kurt and Lauren watched.

"You have to leave!" The boy sobbed. His huge blue eyes focused on Kurt and Lauren. "He doesn't like you and you have to leave, now!" He appeared to see someone over Kurt's shoulder and his eyes widened before the boy vanished, leaving an open doorway.

Lauren pushed Kurt from behind. "I don't like this. I want to find Blaine." Kurt had never heard a better idea in his life. They bolted from room, nearly tripping over each other as they raced to the stairs. Before Kurt ran down, he looked over his shoulder and almost fell over.

At the end of the hallway, in front of the huge window, a dark shadow stood. As Kurt watched, it lifted a hand and waved mockingly.

Kurt hated haunted houses.

They found Blaine patching up Jacob with one of the first aid kits Kurt had packed. Blaine was almost done wrapping Jacob's arm but the scowl on his friend's face made Kurt wonder what the hell Jacob did to piss him off so much.

"What happened to you?" Lauren asked Jacob. The kid launched into a story about a ghost that had shot him and how Blaine had rescued him. He was clutching his video camera like a lifeline and as soon as Blaine finished with his arm, Jacob scooted as far away from Blaine as possible. Kurt frowned.

"Hey. You alright?" Kurt asked quietly, touching Blaine's shoulder.

"Fine." Blaine twisted away from Kurt's hand. Kurt raised his eyebrow. What the hell was that? Blaine was a like a junkie when it came to human touch. And he never shunned Kurt's. But at the look on Blaine's face, Kurt decided to drop it. He noticed Blaine rubbing his forehead.

Lauren waved the video camera. "Yo, Hummel. Get over here. Israel says he got the ghost on camera." Blaine didn't appear to care, but Kurt walked over and leaned over Jacob's shoulder. As Jacob rewound the tape, Kurt felt Blaine come up next to him.

"I'm sorry," Blaine muttered. Kurt looked at him. Blaine had a miserable expression and was pale in the screen's light. "I just keep getting these awful headaches and Jacob and his shrieking wasn't helping." Jacob was about to protest but was cut off by Lauren elbowing him sharply in the ribs.

"It's ok." Kurt said. "Just don't do it again. I'm not the enemy here." He turned back to the video camera's screen. Blaine stepped close behind and Kurt's heart fluttered. Bad thoughts, bad thoughts…

The screen showed a thin woman Kurt thought was Madeline Strode. She had her arms wrapped around her waist and tears poured from her red-rimmed eyes.

"Help me," sh e said, reaching out with one pale hand.

The picture shook as Jacob walked closer and put the camera down on a nearby box. The angle showed Jacob walking towards the woman, hands out. The woman suddenly winced in pain and put her head in her hands.

"Hurts…" she whimpered.

"What's going on? You alright? You're really hot." On-camera Jacob licked his lips.

Kurt grimaced and looked at the real Jacob, who flushed. "Just keep watching…" the boy muttered.

"My head! It hurts, make it stop!" Madeline dodged Jacob's hand and turned away from the camera. She started up a steady stream of muttering. Lauren reached over and turned the volume up all the way. Kurt could only hear a few words. "…hurts…no…I don't…can't…hurt them…please don't make me hurt them…kill…shoot…tear…rip…blood…" She started giggling, high and hysterical. Video Jacob looked terrified but he still reached out.

"Madeline?"

The woman turned around, a large bullet hole in the center of her forehead. She smiled serenely, as Jacob screamed, then she lifted the gun in her hand and shot Jacob. When Jacob clutched his arm and collapsed, she frowned, obviously upset that she missed. Jacob screamed again, and a few seconds later, Madeline looked off-screen, surprised. Another bang; and she erupted in a shower of flames. Then Blaine was there, helping Jacob stand and grabbing the camera.

Jacob paused the video.

Kurt spoke first. "Rewind it a little." He frowned, eyes narrowed. Jacob did as he asked until Kurt started. "Stop." He pointed. "See that?" Everyone leaned closer to the small screen. It was hard to see but right after Madeline shot Jacob, there was a dark figure behind her. Lauren gasped.

"That looks like…"

"Yeah." Kurt looked at Blaine. "We saw that shadow upstairs. After the Laurent girls told us we were going to die in this house and a little boy warned us to get out because someone doesn't like us. Blaine, are you sure you're alright?" The last sentence was said with concern as Blaine held his head in his head and let out a small moan of pain.

"Fine. Fine, I'm fine, it just hurts…" Blaine stumbled away and sat down on the threadbare chair. Kurt rooted through the first aid kit and grabbed some pills as well as a water bottle. He handed them to Blaine. "Thanks," Blaine tried to smile as he tossed back the painkillers. "God, these migraines suck."

"They look like they hurt." Jacob put in.

"Well no shit, Jacob!" Blaine yelled. Jacob paled and stepped back. Blaine glared, but let Kurt rub his shoulder and slowly relaxed.

Kurt frowned and caught Lauren's eye, but shook his head. The girl wasn't stupid; she had to be thinking the same thing his was. But this was Blaine. They must just be headaches; it didn't have to be related to the house. She didn't look happy, but Lauren stayed quiet. Jacob was clueless as ever, but was terrified of Blaine.

Kurt decided he was going to keep an eye on Blaine the rest of the night. This could just be a stress thing. And Kurt was pretty sure Jacob was enough to make anyone homicidal.

He just hoped this wasn't the house working on Blaine.

Lauren sat on the floor next to Jacob while Blaine finished making a large circle of salt around them. Kurt reloaded Blaine's shotgun while he waited.

"Remind me why I have to wait here while you and Kurt get to go off and have fun?" Lauren glared at Blaine.

"Because Jacob is injured and refuses to wait by himself. And Kurt actually knows what he's doing and I trust him to have my back." Blaine flashed a smile at Kurt before turning back to Lauren. "Now I mean this. Stay in this circle and you'll be safe. Not one toe goes over this line." He pointed at the salt. "That goes for you too, Jacob. And turn that damn thing off!" Blaine swiped at the video camera but Jacob yanked it out of the way. "Fine. Whatever." Blaine rolled his eyes.

Shoot him. Kill him. And the girl. No one would miss them and you'll be able to protect Kurt better without distractions.

Blaine rubbed his forehead. God, the headaches hurt. The painkillers hadn't helped at all. He saw Kurt looking at him with worry in his eyes, but Blaine turned away. He didn't need pity. Blaine took the shotgun Kurt was holding out and began walking up the creaky stairs. Kurt told the two kids to stay there and recheck the files while he and Blaine checked the rest of the house before joining him on the second floor.

They didn't find anything in any of the rooms at first glance. Just lots of dust and cobwebs and a few mice. Kurt seemed jumpy after walking into a spider web.

"I just don't like spiders," he said.

Blaine decided not to tell him how many spiders he'd encounter as a hunter. He winced as he felt another headache building.

"Blaine? Are you—"

"I'm fine!" Blaine snapped, then immediately felt bad at the hurt look on Kurt's face. "Shit. Look, I'm sorry, it just—"

"—Hurt's really bad, I know." Kurt finished. "Stop yelling at me. I'm just worried."

Then stop bugging me. "I know. I know, I'm sorry." Blaine inhaled sharply when the pain intensified. So annoying, never leaves me alone, look at him, so pale and skinny could probably break him like a twig and then I'd be free and Blaine stumbled, Kurt grabbed him before he completely faceplanted. What the fuck? Blaine shook his head trying to rid his mind of images of Kurt dead and bloody. He stared at the blue-green eyes, full of concern and worry. Shit, why he thinking about killing Kurt? He loved Kurt. What the hell? He let Kurt guide him to the wall and he leaned gratefully on the plaster. God he must be going insane.

"I'm going to look in the attic alright?"

Blaine nods, wincing at the motion. His head felt like something was stabbing his brain over and over. He saw Kurt reach up and pull on a string, opening the attic door. He unfolded the ladder, and stepped on the first rung. Kurt was half-way up when the flashlights began flickering. Dread crept up Blaine's spine and he pushed himself away from the wall and towards Kurt, who had stopped climbing.

"What was…?"

Blaine opened his mouth to reassure Kurt when something grabbed his shoulders and yanked him back onto the ground with a yelp. He hit his head on the floor and groaned, pain blossoming behind his ever present headache.

"BLAINE!" Kurt shouted. Blaine looked up just in time to see Kurt's terrified face just before the ladder zipped itself back up and closed the door, Kurt still on it.

"KURT!" Blaine roared, jumping to his feet. He pulled on the flimsy cord, but the door remained closed. He heard Kurt pounding on the other side and crying out. Shit. "Kurt, I'm coming, hold on!" Blaine pulled the cord again, but the damn thing snapped. Blaine stared at the broken string and looked back up at the smooth white door. He realized Kurt had fallen silent and fought back panic. "Kurt? Kurt, answer me!"

Silence. Blaine cursed and turned to look for a ladder but was met with four young boys. All had the same blue uniform on and were bleeding from various cuts on their body. The youngest locked eyes with Blaine and put a finger to his lips. Blaine nodded slightly, swallowing the scream that almost burst out at the sight of the boys. The boy slowly pointed at a room. Blaine recognized it as the master bedroom. Blaine glanced at the group quizzically, but all four inclined their head.

Blaine had no idea what they were trying to tell him, but he had a feeling it could help Kurt. He carefully pushed open the bedroom door and walked in. The room had a king-sized bed with a tattered canopy, a vanity with a shattered mirror and a beaten dresser. Faded paintings hung on the peeling wallpaper and the window showed a view of the courtyard. The moon shone into the room, casting everything in a bluish tint.

A tiny Japanese boy appeared in front of Blaine, but he remained calm. God, there were so many ghosts here. A sharp pain suddenly ripped through his head and Blaine whimpered, but the little boy slipped a cold hand in his and the pain faded. The hell?

The boy stood next the bed and stared at Blaine intently. Blaine cocked his head, confused. The kid was trying to tell him something, but…

With another significant look, the boy flickered out of existence, leaving Blaine staring at an empty space. Blaine noticed something he and Kurt had missed earlier and dropped to his knees. Next to the bed, some of the floorboards were a different color. Blaine felt around the edges of the board until…there. He wiggled one of the boards, loosening the dust caked in the grooves. He finally got one free and lifted it, setting the board to the side. He removed two more, leaving a decently-sized hole in the floor. Blaine shined the flashlight inside. There was a bloodstained knife, which Blaine avoided and a leather-bound book. Taking it out and opening it, he realized it was a journal.

All thoughts of Kurt gone, Blaine began reading.

"I'm bored." Jacob announced.

"Shut up," Lauren said. She flipped through another page of the huge file Kurt had left them. She was worried about Kurt being alone with Blaine. Something was off with the curly-haired hobbit. But Kurt didn't seem too worried, though he was in love with the guy. Lauren squinted at the fine print on the page before giving up and shutting the whole thing.

"This is boringgggggggggggg." Jacob moaned, drawing out the last syllable. Lauren just rolled her eyes.

She couldn't remember why she did the website with that creep. Oh wait. Yeah, she did. She wanted to be famous. Lauren glared at the gloom where Kurt and Blaine had left about fifteen minutes ago. She shined her flashlight on Jacob, who winced at the bright light.

The flashlight began to flicker and Jacob shot up and clutched her arm within seconds. Lauren muttered a curse and smacked the flashlight, but to no avail. Jacob suddenly whimpered and Lauren looked up.

Eleanor was back. She stood outside the salt circle, still crying. Her neck bled profusely.

"Stay inside the circle," Lauren hissed to Jacob, who looked ready to bolt. Oddly enough, Lauren felt calm. Eleanor didn't seem malicious. Before, she seemed to be warning them away, not trying to kill them. "Do you know what's going on?" Lauren asked. Might as well try, right?

Jacob jumped when Eleanor nodded jerkily.

"S-she can hear us!"

"No shit, Israel, she's a person, not a dog." Lauren scoffed. "Anyway, sweetie, wanna tell us what's up in this freak show?"

Eleanor lifted a pale arm, one finger outstretched. She traced letters in the air.

"H…u…" Lauren read. "s…b…husband?"

Eleanor nodded. She began tracing another word when there were shouts and a bang from upstairs. Eleanor gasped and wrote quickly in the air.

"M…mad? Murderer?" Lauren tried to make sense of her flying finger. "Your husband went mad and tried to kill you? Me? Your husband is trying to kill me?" Eleanor nodded frantically but kept writing. "H…e…help…help you? 'Help us'? Who's 'us,' the other ghosts? Don't get snippy with me woman!" Lauren met Eleanor's glare with one of her own. Eleanor tugged at her hair and bit her lip. Her face changed to terrified and she beckoned for them to follow her.

Jacob tugged on her sweatshirt. "Blaine said not to leave the circle!"

"I know what Blaine said!" Lauren snapped. She looked at Eleanor with suspicion. The woman stamped her foot in frustration and pointed at the stairs. She jabbed her finger again, wordlessly telling them to get up there now!

Lauren heard Blaine yelling for Kurt once more before stopping. Hummel was in trouble. That changed things.

For some reason, Lauren liked Kurt. He seemed like a cool dude. And she wanted him to have sex with Blaine. Why? She didn't know. But she definitely wanted Kurt to live and she had a feeling that if she told Blaine what Eleanor communicated to them, it would help him save Kurt. With a deep breath, Lauren stepped out of the salt circle.

Jacob was not a fan. "No, no, no come back! Don't leave me!" He whimpered.

"Come on, we gotta find Anderson and help him save Hummel!" Lauren grabbed Jacob and threw him over her shoulder. Wrestling in high school came in handy. When she turned around, Eleanor was gone, but Lauren wasn't worried. She made her way up the stairs.

Blaine shut the journal just as Lauren burst into the room with a crying Jacob over her shoulder.

"It's the first dude," She said quickly. "Laurent. He's psycho."

"I know," Blaine said. He stood up and tucked the book under his arm. Lauren seemed a bit put out by his casual response.

"You…you know?"

Blaine pushed past her and walked down the hallway. "Yep. Read his diary." He motioned for Lauren to stand underneath the attic door where a short rope still hung. Lauren put down Jacob, confused at Blaine's actions. He put his hands on her shoulder and lifted a foot, waiting. After a second, Lauren realized what he wanted and laced her fingers together. "Jonathan moved here from New York, hoping to find some relief from his growing migraines and visual and auditory hallucinations. Soon, though, he descended into full-blown insanity and killed his family and then himself. But," Blaine hoisted himself up until he stood on Lauren's shoulders. "He wasn't done. He decided to stick around." Blaine looked down and grinned at a nervous Lauren. Jacob cowered off to the side, still filming. "See," Blaine felt around the edge of the door and pulled. Unlike before, it opened easily, the ladder unfolding with little effort. A wave of musty air hit Blaine's face and he coughed. "People go mad in this house." Blaine stepped off of Lauren and onto the ladder.

"So it's all Jonathan? Everything in this house stems from Jonathan?" Lauren held the ladder steady for Blaine.

"Yeah. And he was into the occult. He decided when he built the house that he wanted to be a part of it forever." Blaine shot Lauren a look.

Lauren wasn't stupid. She actually read, and so was aware that ghosts were tied to the mortal world by human remains. So if Jonathan was sticking around, he probably had some remains of his body hidden in the house. "So you mean…" she started to say slowly.

"Yeah. He hid a lock of hair in the attic. So I'm going to find it and burn it." Blaine said. His eyes flashed. "I'm not letting him take me," he said under his breath.

"Blaine…" Lauren was suddenly nervous. "Are you sure you know you're doing?"

"Of course." Blaine smirked. "I'm gonna save Kurt and burn Jonathan."

Dark.

The attic was really dark.

Kurt huddled against the wall of the attic, throat sore from yelling and hands bruised from pounding on the door. That damn door that closed on him and cut Blaine off. Kurt glared in what he thought was the general direction the door was in. He'd dropped the flashlight when the door shut and it rolled off somewhere in the darkness.

No, Kurt decided to be quiet long after Blaine stopped shouting.

There was something in here with him. The hairs on his arms stood up as Kurt drew his knees up to his chest. Fuck, but he wished Blaine was here. He had his gun, which Kurt held with the safety off. Every so often Kurt caught the sound of another person—a quick breath, a cut-off giggle, a sigh. But with no light, he couldn't exactly shoot. And without knowing exactly what was in there with him, Kurt didn't want to fire the gun in case he hit something that would deflect the bullet.

Simply put, Kurt was alone, in the dark, and terrified.

Then the whispers began.

You're pathetic.

Kurt jumped, looking around and seeing only pitch black.

Blaine doesn't give a shit about you.

Not true! Kurt thought, squeezing his eyes shut. Blaine cared about him. Maybe it wasn't love, but Blaine cared. He had to.

He sees you as a child. Something that needs to be protected from itself. He's going to leave you when he finds out how crazy you really are.

Kurt whimpered. "I'm not crazy!" he whispered.

Yes you are. Kurt felt dank breath at his ear and the voice giggled. You're as mad as I am.

"I'm not!" Kurt swung his arm out and hissed when he only hit the wall. "I'm not mad!" Kurt held his arm to his chest. He really needed Blaine. "Blaine, please come back," Kurt whispered, hating himself for sounded so weak.

The voice kept talking and poking at Kurt's insecurities for so long that Kurt eventually stopped fighting with it. He almost didn't notice when the attic door opened.

Kurt looked at the gun, noticing the smooth metal. He turned it so that he was looking down the barrel.

It would be so easy.

So easy.

To stop the voices. The dreams. Sebastian. Blaine. His father. Jesse. Murdoch.

A tear slid down his cheek.

"Kurt?"

Kurt blinked. "Blaine?" His voice was quiet. Blaine couldn't be here. Kurt was trapped in the attic, alone because the door wouldn't open. He blinked again, staring at the gun.

The gun.

Because he could see.

He looked up at concerned hazel eyes and curly dark hair. Wordlessly, Kurt gaped at Blaine. The gun was tugged out of his hand but he allowed it, because in the next second he launched himself at Blaine. Kurt almost cried at feeling those strong arms wrap around him.

"I thought you were dead," Kurt whispered.

A chuckled rippled through Blaine. "Nope. Just had to figure something out."

"Yo, Anderson! You got your boy toy yet?" Lauren called from the attic door.

"Shut up, Lauren!" Blaine laughed. He pulled Kurt up and pushed him towards Lauren, but Kurt stopped. He could hear…

"Blaine! Move!" Kurt shoved him to the side just before a tall man swung a knife where Blaine used to be. The man winked out of existence.

Blaine scrambled to his feet, pulling Kurt up with him. His eyes darted around the room constantly, cursing the darkness. His elbow throbbed where he'd hit it falling down. He cried out and clutched his head when a stabbing pain ripped through his brain.

Feel that pain?

Why yes, Blaine did feel that pain. He heard Kurt shouting through the pain-filled fog, but could barely make out his words. Oh fuck, this hurt so much. Blaine whimpered.

This is his fault.

This wasn't Kurt's fault. It was…what was his name? "Jonathan," Blaine muttered, a new pulse of pain running through his head.

Kurt was yelling again, holding Blaine's hand and guiding him to the floor. What was he saying? Lauren. He was telling Lauren to find something, but what?

That little bitch. That fairy. Coming in here and taking control like it's his goddamn right.

The voice was in Blaine's head and Blaine hit himself. He just wanted it out, because he didn't think those things about Kurt. Kurt was just worried. He cared about Blaine…

The voice laughed, and Blaine thought he heard shots and more cries, one sounding like Jacob. Kurt cares so much. That's why he lied to you for weeks

No, Kurt was just scared, it's understandable…

He let you suffer.

Blaine wasn't suffering!

If he had only listened to you all the time, you'd be alright and sane. But Kurt came along and is infecting you with his crazy. This pain is from him.

He gasped. The pain spread from his head to his whole body, everything feeling sore and throbbing and Blaine thought he was going to black out for a second. Something hard pressed itself into Blaine's hand.

Are you ready to stand up for yourself and make the pain stop?

"Yes!" Blaine was standing on his feet. When did that happen? He didn't remember getting up.

Raise your hand.

Blaine's arm lifted before Blaine was aware of it. It felt heavy. Why was it heavy? No. Kurt stood in front of him, hands held up in surrender and eyes wide and scared. He was saying something. Blaine frowned. Why couldn't he hear him? Oh God, his head. Blaine screwed up his eyes and rubbed them with his free hand. The pain hurt so so bad…

Kill him.

What? No, Blaine didn't want to kill Kurt. Blaine loved Kurt; he didn't want to shoot him! Blaine realized his finger was squeezing the trigger. Oh God, no…

The gun went off with a sharp bang, and Blaine saw Kurt jump, but then Kurt was tackling him and kicking the gun away. Blaine realized he actually shot the floor, thank God, but his body was struggling with Kurt and shit he just punched Kurt in the face and oh Kurt was bleeding. He tried to apologize but his mouth wouldn't make the right shapes or sounds. Kurt was stronger than he looked, actually and Blaine found himself pinned to the floor, Kurt's full weight on top of his chest.

His limbs weren't responding. Why couldn't he move? Why couldn't he talk? No wait, Blaine was talking, but his mouth was spewing out horrible things and no, this wasn't Blaine, it's not me don't listen to a thing I say it's not me!

Through the fog of pain, Blaine saw Lauren waving something triumphantly, Jacob next to her holding a lighter. He felt Kurt's chest shift as he shouted something. Lauren took the lighter from Jacob and suddenly Blaine was absolutely mortally terrified but he had no idea why.

The woman produced a flame and Blaine's body immediately began jerking and struggling even harder than before but Kurt kept him restrained and then the pain got a hell of a lot worse.

Fire spread over every inch of his body and Blaine was dimly aware of himself screaming, but then everything went white and he slipped away into a blissful abyss.

Blaine woke up and promptly leaned to his side and puked.

A cool hand felt his forehead while another rubbed soothing circles into his back as Blaine dry heaved a few times into the bucket someone had thrust into his face.

When his stomach stopped trying to force itself up through his throat, Blaine collapsed back on the scratchy fabric and opened his eyes. Kurt smiled back at him and handed him a wet washcloth.

"You feeling better?" Kurt said, sitting on the floor next to Blaine's head. Blaine wiped his face with the cloth, sighing at the cool dampness. He turned to look at Kurt and gasped.

"Holy shit, what happened?" Blaine gaped at the discolored bruise that marred Kurt's face. Kurt touched it faintly, but didn't look worried.

"Well, let's just say you've got one hell of a right hook." He smirked.

Blaine frowned. "What? Wait, I did that?" Wouldn't he remember punching the hell out of his best friend? Oh, his head…

He gratefully accepted the pills and glass of water Kurt suddenly put in his hands. Without thinking, he tossed back the two pills with a swig of water. He sighed deeply. "Kurt what happened? The house is really fuzzy…" Blaine closed his eyes, trying to remember last night. "Where are those hack-jobs? Lauren and Jacob? And where are we?" He opened his eyes.

Kurt sighed. "So many questions. Well. You were possessed. Jonathan Laurent went a little crazy right before he died, and it carried over when he left his hair in the attic." Kurt shook his head. "If that wasn't a tip off to his insanity, I have no idea what would have been. Anyway, he's been driving residents of the house mad for decades. Obviously. And this time I guess he chose you to have fun with."

Blaine frowned at the images suddenly flying around his brain. "I…I shot you."

Kurt shook his head. "No. I mean, you tried. Well, Jonathan tried. I assumed he was possessing you in the attic. But you made him miss, so thanks for that." Kurt winked. "Lauren and Jacob found the hair while I kept you busy and she got it to burn. Then you passed out."

"How long?"

"About a day. Jonathan was pretty powerful."

Blaine fell silent, thinking. He looked around the room, seeing the comic books and huge TV. "We're at Sam's?"

Kurt nodded. "Yeah. I kind of panicked when you didn't wake up so I drove us back here. Also, just so you know…" He shifted uncomfortably. "I kind of had to—"

A microphone was suddenly thrust under Blaine's nose. "So, Mr. Anderson, what was it like to be possessed by a psycho?"

No. Blaine glared at Kurt, who looked apologetic. "Seriously, Kurt?" He shoved Jacob's microphone away, and the kid stumbled backwards, though he kept filming.

At that moment, Lauren walked in, popping Raisinets into her mouth. "Yo Anderson, 'bout time you joined the living." She smirked. "You gonna make out with Hummel already?"

"I couldn't just leave them…and they saved your life." Kurt leaned in closer and Blaine ignored how his heart fluttered, instead sticking his tongue out at Lauren. Juvenile, yes, but oh so therapeutic. "Sam's been ready to kill them ever since Lauren said he looked like a blonde Beiber." He whispered in Blaine's ear.

Blaine groaned. "Awesome." He looked at the Spectral Spies. "Um. Thanks for saving my life. I really appreciate it. And um…good luck on that website…thing." He finished lamely. Lauren smiled and yanked Blaine to his feet, drawing him into a bone crushing hug.

"I like Hummel. You take of him, yeah?" Lauren said cheerfully.

"Yeah, yeah, I will, promise," Blaine managed to get out. He coughed when she released him and moved on to Kurt. Jacob held out his arms like he wanted a hug too, but Blaine took one look at the arm pit sweat stains and held up a finger. "No."

Jacob pouted but held out a hand, which Blaine gratefully shook. "Thanks for saving me too," Jacob said, pushing up his glasses.

"No problem." Blaine released his hand and stepped back next to Kurt. "Just stop going in haunted houses ok? Just…I don't know; make up stories about sleeping in one or something."

Jacob looked affronted. "The Spectral Spies have a duty of truth to their viewers! We do not lie like hacks and phonies!"

"Yeah yeah, whatever, you guys do whatever you want, just get out of my house!" Sam cut in. He stood by the door, wiping his hands with an oil-stained rag and looking more frazzled than Blaine had ever seen them.

Lauren pulled Jacob away from Blaine. "Our car fixed?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, oil's changed and brake lines are replaced. Now go hunt ghosts in Antarctica or something." He pushed them out the door. Literally.

"See ya, Hummel! Anderson!"

"Bye Lauren!" Kurt waved. He laughed at the look on Blaine's face. "Oh come on, they weren't that bad." He nudged Blaine's shoulder as they watched Lauren toss Jacob into the beaten station wagon from the porch. "They were…interesting."

"They were insane," Blaine snorted. Lauren yelled at Jacob for a minute before waving at the house again and driving off. He turned to say something to Kurt but stopped. Kurt looked beautiful in the setting sun, the gold light reflected off his hair and skin so he seemed to be glowing. And he'd wanted to kill this angel?

Kurt shifted and met Blaine's eyes. He flushed—looking even more gorgeous—and touched his cheek. "Is there something on my face?" he asked.

Blaine just grinned. "Nope," he said happily.

Sam snapped them out of it. "Come on, lovebirds." Blaine opened his mouth to correct him but Sam continued. "Britt's got the spell ready."

Next to him, Kurt inhaled sharply and grabbed Blaine's hand.

"Are you ready Kurt?" Blaine asked softly.

Kurt nodded. "Yeah. No time like the present."

The nightmares were gone.

Supposedly.

Kurt still had to test out the spell, but Brittany seemed optimistic. Coming back from the Laurent job, Brittany had almost tackled Kurt in her excitement. The actual spell was pretty straightforward from Kurt's point of view: a weird symbol Kurt had to stand on, a bunch of pungent herbs that had to be burned, a long stream of foreign sounding words and some blood. Blaine wasn't too thrilled about that last bit, but he shut up when Kurt threatened to make him to wait in the car. Britt said the spell would block the dreams and Artie even came up with pendants that would hide them from tracking spells and other magical means of location.

In short, Britt and Artie were amazing. Leaving them and Sam was actually harder than Kurt expected. After losing everyone, having friends that knew his secrets was scary, but Kurt felt freer than he had in weeks.

In the meantime, he sorted the bag of laundry he'd gotten washed on the motel bed. Blaine was sitting on the other bed with his guitar, plucking random chords. Kurt purposely had his back turned. He did not need to see Blaine Anderson looking adorable in a plain white t-shirt, semi-tight grey sweatpants, and messy hair.

Did love always feel like this? Like it physically hurt to not be next to the person you loved all the time? It hadn't felt like this with Jesse. But all Blaine had to do was smile and Kurt's knees felt weak.

But he couldn't. Blaine didn't deserve to be with someone that was borderline insane. Not to mention the danger that followed Kurt at every turn.

Kurt laughed softly. What a change from a few weeks ago. Before the nightmares and Sebastian, Kurt never would have contemplated leaving Blaine. But now, it might be his only choice. Even if it felt like his heart was tearing itself into pieces.

He folded another shirt.

Blaine changed his playing. Kurt frowned, almost recognizing the song. He turned around to see Blaine looking back at him intently. He was breathing as if he was scared, but his face seemed happy. Then he started to sing.

"The dawn is breaking,
A light shining through,
You're barely waking,
And I'm tangled up in you, yeah,"

Kurt felt his breathing hitch. This could not be happening. Blaine wasn't supposed to be singing him a fucking love song like he meant it. Blaine was supposed to be his stupid dapper and flirty self and Kurt was supposed to get over his stupid crush like always but that would be impossible when Blaine was looking at him like that. Kurt could tell Blaine was pouring real emotion into every word and Kurt hated and loved him for it.

"Even the best fall down sometimes ,
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme,
Out of the doubt that fills my mind,
I somehow find, you and I collide,"

Blaine's voice cracked a little on the last note and Kurt gave up on folding his clothes. Fuck it. He stood up and sat next to Blaine, drawing his legs up to his chest and resting his chin on his knees as he watched his best friend sing a beautiful song to him. Blaine was surprised, but didn't miss a note. He twisted on the bed so he was facing Kurt, and only broke eye contact to check his hand's position on the guitar neck.

"I've found I'm scared to know,
I'm always on your mind ,"

Kurt smiled faintly. Those lyrics were truer than Blaine knew. Kurt watched Blaine's fingers pluck out the notes, the way his arm muscle flexed with each strum, how his neck changed with each word. Kurt knew he was crying, big thick tears running down his face and probably ruining his complexion, but he didn't care. Blaine was singing. To him. With every lyric, Kurt knew this could end beautifully or really badly. He remembered Blaine's lecture when he first started out. Hunting was dangerous, especially for couples. Kurt couldn't imagine something happening to Blaine. And he knew he wouldn't survive it. So how could he put Blaine into even more danger?

"Out of the doubt that fills your mind,
You finally find, you and I, collide,"

But Kurt knew Blaine wasn't stupid. He knew the risks of getting into a relationship with one Kurt Hummel. And it was condescending of Kurt to make these kinds of decisions for him, wasn't it? Besides, Kurt knew what that felt like. Blaine had tried that with him already. And Kurt was still here. Somehow, a small thought made itself known. Maybe…maybe Blaine was worth it. Kurt stared into Blaine's eyes and he finished the song. And he only saw love.

"You finally find, you and I, collide,"

Blaine let the last note trail off. He set the guitar off to the side, but didn't break eye contact with Kurt. The room was silent.

"You asshole." Kurt finally said, his voice cracking. Blaine looked hurt at first until Kurt continued. "I told myself I couldn't love you." Kurt wiped at his cheeks. "It was too soon after Jesse and dad; then you didn't feel the same way; then Sebastian came along and I couldn't put you into even more danger than you were already in." Kurt shook his head wonderingly. "Now here you are singing me a sweet love song? Fuck, Blaine, what am I supposed to do now?" Kurt pressed his hands against his lips.

Blaine swallowed. "I'm not sorry, Kurt." He whispered in a choked voice. He looked ready to cry, but Blaine pulled Kurt's hands away from his mouth and held them tightly.

"I'm a bitch." Kurt suddenly said. Blaine looked at him in confusion. Kurt took a shuddery breath and continued. "I'm a neat freak, am OCD when it comes to hygiene, and I have authority issues. I also have a temper and a jealous streak and I'm way more emotional than I should be." He voice lowered. "And I'm dangerous. I'm so dangerous and I don't think anyone realizes what I'm capable of."

"We stopped the nightmares. Sebastian can't hurt you." Blaine whispered back, pressing his forehead to Kurt's.

Kurt shook his head. "Damage is already done, Blaine. That's the magic of psychological torture." He laughed humorlessly. "And Sebastian is going to be so pissed when he realizes what Britt did. I'm scared. I'm scared for her and Artie and Sam but most of all I'm scared for you, Blaine. Because when he finds out what you mean to me, nothing is going to stop him from using you to hurt me."

"I know." Kurt looked up. He knew Blaine knew, but it was another thing to hear it. "I know Sebastian is going to try to hurt me to hurt you, but I don't care." Blaine laughed. "I don't care! You know why?"

"Why?" Kurt whispered.

Blaine leaned in and slowly, so slowly, met Kurt's lips. Kurt gasped into Blaine's mouth, his lips moving instinctively. It was amazing and beautiful and so perfect, Kurt felt like crying because it couldn't last. Almost reluctantly, Blaine pulled away from the kiss and rested his forehead against Kurt's.

"'Cause I love you, Kurt Hummel."

Silence. Then—

"I love you too, Blaine Anderson."