Blaine braces himself before lifting his fist to knock on the heavy wooden door of Finn's house. There's silence for a beat too long and it makes him wonder if maybe he's got the wrong house. He looks around himself. The street sign is right next to the house, sticking in the corner of the small yard the house sits on and it says that he's is in the right place. Though, Blaine's not sure what to believe at this point.

There's a quiet shuffling on the other side of the door that he can just make out before seeing the curtain that hangs over the window being pulled aside. The door opens slowly, but Blaine is met with a smile from the man on the other side.

"I was pretty sure you'd show up," Finn says with a grin. "I tried to tell Kurt, but he never was very good at looking on the bright side of things like this…"

Blaine's not sure what to say and his hand finds its way to the back of his neck, rubbing awkwardly. He must look as sheepish and lost as he feels because Finn is laughing again and stepping aside. "Come on in, Blaine. Kurt's asleep."

The inside of the house is paneled with rich, warm oak. It feels homey and comfortable in a way that only seems to come from old houses. He follows Finn into a similarly decorated living room and takes a seat when Finn suggests it. He folds his hands in his lap awkwardly and Finn laughs again.

"I'm not gonna bite you, kid," he says with a small chuckle, and Blaine finds himself nervously returning the laugh due to the sheer irony of his words.

"I'm sorry, sir—"

"Finn."

"Right, I'm sorry, Finn," Blaine apologizes before taking a deep breath and looking around. "So, you said your family owned this house before you did?"

Finn nods. "Yeah, we moved in here after mom and Burt got married. Lived here since about 1939, I believe."

"Wow," Blaine breathes. Because, wow. A thought occurs to Blaine and before he thinks about it, he hears himself blurt, "What was it like?" He receives a confused stare so he continues. "Losing your brother."

"One of the worst things I've ever had to live through," Finn answers solemnly. "Kurt was—Kurt was one of a kind. I knew that he was destined for bigger and better things than Lima, Ohio. He didn't belong here. He had this dream of going to New York and being on Broadway—and he damn well could have, too. I felt guilty because he enlisted 'cause I did. And when he got shot, it felt like the world had ended. He had so much life in him, so much potential." Finn shakes his head sadly. "It killed us to lose him. Then Burt had his heart attack and it was just mom and I again. He never said anything about it, but Burt was never the same after we got the letter saying Kurt was dead."

"My grandpa thought it was his fault, because Kurt got shot trying to protect him," Blaine says, thoughtful.

"He was never quite the same either. He and Kurt were inseparable and losing Kurt changed him. When he came home, he started to drink for a while. His parents were worried sick, but he wouldn't talk about it. But he snapped out of it eventually. None of us could figure out why, but I guess I know now," Finn finishes with a secretive smile.

Blaine says nothing in response to Finn's words, unsure of how to continue, and they lapse into silence.

"Blaine," Finn prompts, his voice quiet. Blaine looks up to find Finn's eyes on his own. "Kurt would never hurt you. He loves you more than you know."

Blaine's answering voice is whisper quiet. "I know. I love him, too."

"The Kurt that's asleep upstairs after crying his eyes out until dawn is the same Kurt I knew in 1942. He hasn't changed a bit, and I can promise you, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you don't need to be afraid of him. I get that it's weird and there's a lot of stuff that neither of us know, but I'm not afraid and you shouldn't be either."

Finn takes a deep breath and turns until he's better facing Blaine. "I'm gonna tell you something. Growing up, Kurt had it rough. He's always been unique and, growing up in the time we did, that wasn't necessarily a good thing. He was tortured in school. I'm sure there were kids we went to school with who were gay, but they never said anything. They kept it a secret. With Kurt, there was never really the option of keeping it a secret. He's always been exactly the way he is now and a lot of people had a problem with that. I'll admit that I was one of those people at first, but we worked it out. I could admit that I was wrong, but no one else seemed to realize that what they were doing was wrong.

"But Kurt has always been the strongest person I've ever known. He took everything kids had to say to him and it never seemed to break him. He just kept right on being himself. And that is one of the bravest things I've ever witnessed." Finn's voice is earnest and quiet toward the end and he takes a deep breath.

"He is the most compassionate person I've ever known. One of the guys who made his life a living hell had a problem—he never told us what it was, but I have a pretty good guess—and after tormenting and threatening Kurt for years, Kurt still went out of his way to make sure that that guy was okay, because that is who Kurt is. He's not some horror movie monster. Even after everything, he's still Kurt." Finn smiles sadly. "He's taken this whole thing in stride somehow and has managed to come out unchanged. And I would hate to have you both get hurt because of some misguided fear, because there is nothing about Kurt that you need to be afraid of."

There are tears in Blaine's eyes that threaten to fall, but he blinks them back. Finn is sitting, quiet and thoughtful, beside him and Blaine looks up from where he has his eyes cast to his lap to meet Finn's. "May I go talk to him, please?" he asks, voice rough with unshed tears. "I just—"

Finn cuts him off, smiling softly. "Upstairs. First door on your right." Blaine stands up to leave and makes it to the foot of the stairs before he hears Finn say his name. He turns to find deep concern in the man's eyes. "Please, don't hurt him."

"I love him," Blaine answers simply, because it's true. "I promise. I won't hurt him."

Finn nods sagely and Blaine turns back toward the stairs, climbing them in silence.

He wants to knock on the door, but somehow, it feels like an odd thing to do. Forwardly, he turns the doorknob and lets himself into the room. Kurt is asleep underneath a patchwork quilt, curled in on himself. He looks so young and Blaine feels a pang of sadness as he remembers that Kurt cried himself to sleep. The evidence is still there in the tightness of his face, not relaxed even in sleep. He crosses the room silently, unthinking, and sits down on the edge of the bed, unconsciously brushing a stray lock of hair from Kurt's forehead.

"Kurt," Blaine prompts softly. "Honey…"

Kurt's eyes slide open before widening as he takes in Blaine. "You're—You're here," he breathes as though incredulous that Blaine is real.

"Yeah. I'm here." Blaine takes a deep breath and brushes more hair from Kurt's forehead in a soft gesture. "I'm so sorry, Kurt. I—I didn't even think yesterday. I should have given you a chance to explain." They're silent for a moment as Kurt sits up. Blaine takes his hands and squeezes them gently. "But I'll listen now."

There are actual tears streaking tracks down Kurt's cheeks and Blaine lifts a hand to wipe them away with a small, encouraging smile. "I love you, Blaine," Kurt says in a breath, shaking his head and swallowing thickly. "I love you so much."

Blaine thumbs away a tear on Kurt's cheek. "I know, sweetheart. I love you, too."

And Kurt starts to talk, words pouring out as though he's saying them is actually alleviating pain. "I'm sure your biggest question is whether or not I kill people." It's not a question but Blaine nods anyway. "A long time ago, when I was new at this, I did. Once. It was my first feed and I couldn't help it. I needed it. I will hate what I did for the rest of my life, but there's nothing I can do to fix it."

"Who was he?" Blaine asks, morbid curiosity getting the better of him. "Do you know?"

"He was an officer. A German. When I woke up after my transformation, I was scared of the craving I was feeling. I have never been a violent person, and everything in my body was screaming for me to drink. So I ran. I held out for almost three days. I was starving. I felt myself getting weaker and I had resolved to see what would happen if I just starved myself. I was hoping I would die. It was better than the alternative of being a monster for as long as I lived—which even then, I was pretty sure was going to be forever.

"I ran through the woods to avoid as many people as I could, but eventually I ran out of forest to hide in. It was dark when I made it into this little town. God, what I saw there was—I don't even have words to describe it. This officer had a woman by the hair and was dragging her down the street. He was going to kill her. This rage just came over me and I ran to him and pulled him off. Even when I was weak and hungry, he was no match for me. The woman ran away and the officer turned on me and started shouting vile, hateful things, and I snapped. I killed him and fed from him.

"He was a miserable excuse for a human being, but that doesn't mean he deserved to die. I knew that I couldn't go around playing god and saving the day by killing villains, but I at least gave myself some measure of credit that I saved her life."

"You did, Kurt," Blaine cuts in, sliding his thumb over the knuckles of Kurt's hand. "You saved her life. Not that he deserved to be killed, but it was almost self-defense."

Kurt sighs deeply. "That's what I tell myself. I don't regret it, because he was going to kill her, but I knew it could never happen again. I'm not a monster, Blaine. I refuse to let that side of myself come out. The other day in the parking garage when those guys were threatening you, that was the closest I've ever come to snapping again. I felt the same rage I felt that night," Kurt explains slowly.

"If you don't kill people, how do you eat?" Blaine asks. He's surprised by how calm his voice is. It's as though he's talking about the weather.

"I'm very sneaky when I want to be," Kurt says with a sly smile. "In a big city like Columbus or New York, a few bags of blood a month are easy to steal, but when I can't do that, animals work in a pinch." Kurt's nose scrunches up in distaste.

"And that works?" Blaine inquires. It doesn't fit the whole Dracula theme he's been constructing in his head. "What about having to only drink the blood of a virgin? Is that just…" Kurt shifts anxiously and casts his eyes to their clasped hands. "What?"

Kurt looks up toward Blaine sheepishly. "Yes, animal blood and blood from a bag does work, but I get kind of sick afterwards. That's why I don't stay over at your house as much as I'd like. I've been feeding more so that the cravings aren't as strong, but you smell really good…" Kurt's expression goes from sheepish to embarrassed. "Sorry."

"What do you mean it makes you sick?" Blaine asks, his brow furrowing in confusion. He hates to think of Kurt having to be sick on his own, which is essentially the picture he's describing.

They're silent for a moment and it seems as though Kurt is debating with himself, so Blaine adds, "Kurt, tell me."

"I'm not supposed to live off of bagged blood or animals. It gives me enough nourishment to get by, but it also makes it easier for people to tell that I'm different—in addition to making me feel awful for about twelve hours after I eat." Kurt's words are reluctant and it seems as though he wants to stop there, but Blaine encourages him to continue. "Human blood is different. If I drink human blood, I can be stronger, faster, and I can stand the sunlight better than I do now. Plus, it helps keep my body temperature closer to a human's."

Blaine's face screws up in thought. "So, where did that rumor of vampires can only drink the blood of virgins or they'll die come from?"

"I think that someone way back started that rumor because, while we don't have to have it to survive, the blood of a virgin does smell better—I've heard it tastes better, too, but I wouldn't know for sure." Kurt laughs quietly. "Think of it like this. You love vanilla ice cream. I've seen you sit down and eat two bowls of it in one sitting before." There's a small smile on Kurt's face. "Now, think about if I put chocolate syrup on it and gave it to you. You don't need the chocolate syrup in order to love the ice cream, but it makes it ten times better."

"So, virgin's blood is like chocolate syrup on ice cream?" Blaine asks with a quizzical expression. "Is that why you're always smelling my neck?"

Kurt laughs and leans in to press a kiss to Blaine's lips. "No, sweetheart, I'm doing that because you smell amazing. Not because you're a virgin or anything. It's just how you smell. I love it."

"What do I smell like to you?" Blaine asks curiously. He's pretty sure he's beyond being freaked out by this point.

"You smell like Blaine." There's a soft smile on Kurt's face. "It's something warm and rich about you with that underlying touch of innocence. It's like nothing I've ever come across before. I knew you were something special to me the first time I caught your scent."

Blaine swallows thickly. "Is it—I mean—Is it hard for you to not drink my blood?"

Kurt lifts a hand to rest on Blaine's cheek and shakes his head softly. "It was once, the day I realized I needed to feed more so that I wasn't as tempted, but other than that, no. I love you, Blaine. The last thing I ever want is to hurt you. And the thing is, you smell delicious, but it's easier than I ever thought to be close to you, because when I'm with you, I'm distracted by how much I just want to kiss and touch you. Feeding off of you doesn't even register in my brain."

There's something Blaine has always wondered. It's a stupid question borne out of watching one too many vampire movies, but he hears himself ask, "Would it hurt?"

The question seems to stagger Kurt for a second, but then he's shaking his head with an unreadable expression. "No. It doesn't hurt."

"How can it not hurt? There are fangs—There are fangs, right?" Kurt nods. "Then how can it not hurt if there are fangs piercing through your skin?"

Kurt straightens up and looks Blaine in the eye. "Well, that's sort of a funny thing, actually. When a human gets bitten by a vampire, there's something that triggers a response in the human's brain and makes it feel—um—really good." Blaine is pretty sure that if Kurt were able to blush, his cheeks would be bright red right now.

"Oh." It's all Blaine can think to say. He wasn't expecting an answer like that. He shifts slightly in his spot and meets Kurt's eyes. "Can I see your teeth?"

"I—I'm not sure, Blaine," Kurt hedges. "I don't want to scare you—"

"You won't scare me. Please?" It's pure curiosity, but it's something he really wants to see. "Kurt, I love you, and I'll love you no matter what. You don't have to hide from me anymore."

Kurt sighs and squeezes Blaine's hands. "You're sure?" Blaine nods and Kurt leans forward to press his lips against Blaine's softly before pulling away with a wary expression. He licks his lips quickly, a nervous habit and closes his eyes as he opens his mouth.

Sure enough, where there had once been two delicately small canines, there are now slightly extended razor sharp points. They don't quite look like any of the ones Blaine has seen in movies, because they look almost proportionate to the rest of Kurt's teeth. He watches as they recede back into the smaller points of Kurt's regular teeth and Kurt opens his eyes.

"I'm not afraid of you," Blaine says with a small smile.

A beaming smile flashes across Kurt's face and he wraps Blaine up in his arms. "You don't have to be, Blaine. I'd never hurt you."

Blaine believes it completely. "Will you come home with me?"

"Of course," Kurt chirps, his voice brighter than Blaine has ever heard it.

"No, I mean, get your things from the hotel in Columbus and come stay with me for as long as you can stay here," he clarifies.

There's quiet worry on Kurt's face and he's shaking his head softly. "I don't know, Blaine. I'm not so sure that would be—"

"Kurt, if you want me to trust you, then I want you to extend me the same courtesy. No more hiding or lying. That's all over now. I'm not going to run, Kurt. I'm here for good." Blaine's voice is honest and sure, but Kurt still looks a little wary and he takes a little time before nodding his agreement.

—

"Kurt, sweetheart," Blaine's mother prompts, leaning over her plate of spaghetti toward where Kurt is beaming across the table. "You have to tell me where you got the recipe for this sauce. It's delicious!" she gushes, a wide smile on her face.

"I'll write it down tonight and give it to you. It's an old recipe my mother taught me when I was small." Kurt smiles politely toward Mrs. Anderson. "She was a fantastic cook."

"I'd say so, if this sauce is anything to go by," she adds before they all lapse into comfortable silence as she clears the table.

Blaine's father speaks next and Blaine feels Kurt's hand squeeze his under the table. "Blaine, you've barely said a word to me in two days. What's the matter?" There are so many things he wants to say, but he can't bring himself to do it. Instead he shrugs and feels Kurt's hand tighten once again in response. "I mean it, Blaine. Talk."

"Dad, do you remember what you did yesterday?" Blaine swallows thickly before continuing, willing his voice not to shake when his father explains about his trip to Columbus to take his wife shopping. "There was something else you were supposed to do yesterday, something important…" he prompts. His father just shrugs and it's all the answer and motive Blaine needs. "You were supposed to take me on the campus tour of Ohio State yesterday but you forgot about me. Just like you always do."

"That's not fair, Blaine. I forgot one thing—"

"Just like you've forgotten every other thing we've been supposed to do? Dad, you forgot my birthday this year. You and mom went to Venice on my birthday, and I didn't say anything." Kurt stiffens at his side, because Blaine hadn't told him about the birthday incident, but he presses on. "Dad, I have done every single thing I could do to make you proud, but it just seems like nothing I ever do is enough to make you remember me, so I'm done. I just can't do this anymore." His voice is even in a way he's proud of. It's much surer than he expected, so he tries to milk this wave of courage for all it's worth.

"I don't want to be an accountant, dad. I want to study music and I don't know what I want to do with the degree. I guess I'll figure it out when the time comes, but I'm sure I don't want to be an accountant. I can't live for you anymore, dad, I just can't. I need to do what makes me happy now," he says, his voice strong and confident.

His father says nothing at first, only nods once and watches Blaine appraisingly. Finally he asks, "Is that right?"

Blaine nods. "Yes, sir."

"Well then." The man stands up and sets his napkin down on the table. "I see you have your mind all made up. Best of luck to you, son." He nods once toward Kurt before leaving the room entirely, leaving Blaine to deflate and sag against Kurt's side.

"What did I just do, Kurt?"

There's a sad smile on Kurt's face and he rests his hand on Blaine's cheek. "You stood up to your father, honey. I'm so proud of you!" He kisses Blaine quickly on the lips and brushes his thumb over Blaine's cheekbone. "He'll come around. How do you feel?"

"I'm—I'm not sure," Blaine answers honestly, his voice sounds a little flat from shock.

Kurt checks his watch. "Do you have any particular curfew?" Blaine shakes his head. "Alright. Good. Let's get out of here for a little while. We can go back to where we had our first date and get away from everybody."

"That sounds perfect," Blaine breathes out.

—

For the next few days, things are amazing. Most of the days are spent in Blaine's bedroom, because Kurt finally confesses just how bad his headaches are when exposed to the sun.

"It's like, no matter where I look, it feels as though I'm staring directly at the sun. The headaches are almost crippling," he said, rubbing his temples. "Sunglasses help to dull it, but it's still awful."

They talk about everything now that Kurt is free to really open up. Mostly Blaine just listens as Kurt talks about his life and all the things he's seen. It amazes him to listen to Kurt recount how he went to see the Sound of Music its opening night on Broadway or when he watched the Beatles play at Shea Stadium in '65. He's halfway through listening to Kurt's account of being in Berlin the night they started tearing down the wall when he realizes that he's pretty much staring open-mouthed at Kurt as he speaks. There's light and excitement in his eyes and Blaine can't help but get lost in it.

He jumps when he hears Kurt laugh before settling back into his arms with a sheepishly mumbled, "Sorry."

Kurt laughs again and kisses him on the forehead. "Don't apologize. I think it's adorable."

Blaine flushes and nuzzles closer into Kurt's side. "You've led such an amazing life, Kurt. I can't even imagine it. All the changes you've seen and adapted to."

"It has been interesting. Sometimes, a lot less now than I used to, I regret that I got changed. I was really bitter at first, because I should have died. It seemed like a cruel joke that I couldn't get to go see my family. They had to mourn me as though I was dead and there was nothing I could do about it. But as time went on, I realized that wallowing in self-pity wasn't getting me anywhere, so I started doing things. I traveled the world and saw things I only dreamed about seeing, and I realized that, if I had died when I did, I wouldn't have gotten to see all of the amazing things I've seen. When I was your age, before I got changed, I used to lie in my bed at night and dream of the day that I might have the right to fall in love and get married. I never thought it would be anything but a dream that I kept locked away where no one else could see it. But look, states are already legalizing it.

"I've gotten to watch the world grow, Blaine, and it's been scary sometimes to see the way it's going, but there are other times that just make me so thankful that I'm here to see it. And then I met you—" He pokes a finger into the tip of Blaine's nose and smiles. "I traveled the world searching, when all I had to do was come home and there you were."

"Here I am." A bright smile crosses Blaine's face and he leans in to kiss Kurt, sighing against his lips and letting Kurt take control, letting himself be kissed until his head is spinning with it. Kurt's lips trail along Blaine's jaw and down to his neck. Blaine tips his head to allow for better access. Kurt kisses and sucks lightly over where his pulse is fluttering rabbit-quick beneath the skin and Blaine whines softly and threads his fingers into Kurt's hair.

Kurt's lips feel amazing against his neck, pressing gentle, cool kisses over the heated skin and making little contented sighs fall from Blaine's lips, but suddenly, Kurt's mouth is gone from his neck and Kurt is pushing off and rocking up to rest on his knees, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Blaine sits up, resting on his elbows to get a better look at where Kurt is resting over his waist.

"What's the matter, Kurt?" he asks, concerned, as he sits up and extends a hand. He lets it drop immediately when Kurt pulls back and shakes his head.

"I'm sorry," Kurt apologizes roughly. "I've got to go—"

He throws his leg over Blaine's waist and is on his feet in an instant. It hits Blaine then what's wrong and he's on his feet behind Kurt, reaching out to grab his arm before Kurt can pull away. "No, talk to me. What are you feeling?"

Kurt pulls his hands away from his eyes and his eyelids flutter open. Blaine has to fight the urge to take an automatic step back as a shudder of pure fear slides down his spine. The soft blue of Kurt's eyes is now icy and piercing in tight rings around blown pupils.

"You need to feed, don't you?" Blaine asks and Kurt hesitantly nods.

"It's been too long. I shouldn't have let it get this bad…I could have hurt you…"

Blaine takes a daring step forward and puts his hands on Kurt's shoulders. "But you didn't. Because you're much stronger than that." A small, tense smile touches Kurt's face and Blaine continues. "I want you to go and eat, but then come back here. You're not alone with this. If you're going to be sick, I'm going to take care of you." It's an order and it has Kurt shifting anxiously.

"Honey, that's not—"

"I don't care. I love you, Kurt, and I'm going to take care of you if you're sick." Blaine rests his palm on Kurt's cheek and Kurt turns his head to dart a kiss to it, making Blaine's lips twitch up into a smile. "Now go. Hurry back."

Kurt tries a wary smile and chances a darting kiss to Blaine's lips before pulling back and saying, "I love you."

Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt's body and returns the words before all but pushing him out the door.

—

When Kurt comes back an hour later, Blaine is almost asleep. Kurt changes silently into his pajamas and slides into bed beside Blaine. It's when Blaine wraps his arm around Kurt's waist that he notices the full body trembling that's seizing Kurt's body.

"Kurt," he asks, alarmed.

His body is colder than usual and shivering violently. "I—I'm fine."

The words sound almost tortured as they tear out and the trembling intensifies until Kurt's tremors are shaking Blaine's body as well. Barely visible in the dim light filtering in through the curtains are tear tracks down Kurt's cheeks and the fact that his eyes are screwed shut.

"Kurt, talk to me," Blaine orders, the words firm but soft. "I need to know what you're feeling."

"H-Hurts," Kurt chokes out. "It feels like it's burning, but it will stop soon."

"How soon?"

Silence.

"Kurt?" Blaine's voice is stern now. "How soon?"

"Probably about six or seven hours. I didn't drink much." Kurt's voice is shaking with the intensity of his pain and Blaine reels for a way to make it stop, his thoughts cut off by a barely muffled cry from Kurt. "You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't see this…"

He pulls Kurt tightly against his side. "Yes I should be. This involves me too now."

There's a pained whimper from Kurt and he unconsciously clings closer to Blaine's body.

God, is this what Kurt puts himself through in order to avoid human blood? Torturous fire burning its way through his body and barely giving him what he needs to live? He's sacrificing and suffering to avoid hurting another human being. If Kurt drank, he would be strong and able to truly live. He'd be warm and able to go out into the sunlight without crippling pain.

Another pained cry pulls him out of his thoughts and he glances down toward Kurt's face, twisted in unfathomable agony. All of this to avoid being a killer.

Suddenly, a thought occurs to Blaine. "Kurt, do you think if you drank from a human, you'd be able to stop before you killed them?"

Kurt looks up, trying to comprehend through the pain. "Y-Yeah. I mean, it would be hard, but I—" Realization dawns on Kurt's face and he's shaking his head. "No. It's not worth the risk. Absolutely not."

Blaine thrusts out his forearm. "Kurt, it will stop the pain. Please, Kurt. I can't stand to see you in pain, and if you drink a little, it will take the pain away."

There's honest pleading on Kurt's face and his eyes are glued to Blaine's wrist and he licks his lips unconsciously. "Blaine, what if I can't—"

"You can, Kurt. I trust you." Blaine strokes his fingers through Kurt's hair and holds up his wrist. "Please, Kurt."

Kurt swallows convulsively and presses a kiss to Blaine's wrist. "I love you so much, Blaine."

"I love you, too, sweetheart," Blaine says, his voice soft.

After one more kiss to the fluttering pulse of his wrist, he feels a warm exhale before an overwhelming sensation crashes over him like a tidal wave that makes his toes curl into the sheets. He can see Kurt drinking from him, making small satisfied sounds of pleasure as he does but there's no pain. All Blaine can hear over the rush of blood in his ears is his own keening moans as he twists his fingers tightly into the back of Kurt's hair as his back arches off the mattress.

His hips stutter weakly off the bed once more and he hears his own voice crying out loudly in ecstasy before his eyes roll back in his skull and everything goes black.