--

The baby was coming.

Kurt lay back on the bed, his hands knotted around sweat-damp sheets, writhing in pain. There was a clock nearby, ticking loudly, the noise somehow great enough to pound in his head, over and over and over. Tick tock tick tock tick tock. He was all alone-- No one was there to help him, and the baby was coming, and he had no idea what to do.

"Help me," he cried. "Someone, please--"

"I'm here, little sparrow," came a voice nearby.

Somehow Blaine had materialized beside Kurt's bed, a shadowy figure in the darkness, standing terribly still. His eyes were bright red, demonic, piercing through the black around them. His grin was too wide, stretching across his face, baring rows of terrible sharp teeth.

"Go on," he growled. "Give me my child. I simply cannot wait to crunch its bones in my teeth..."

There was a sudden ripping sound, and Kurt sat up in alarm and stared down at his belly in horror. Something was moving inside him-- He watched, paralyzed with dread as the clock ticked louder, pounding in his brain. Tick tock tick tock tick tock--

Suddenly, horribly, tiny claws pierced the skin from inside his body. They pushed up hard through his flesh, lingered just a moment, then raked five long gashes along Kurt's torso, ripping the skin to shreds.

Blood gushed everywhere, and then Kurt couldn't stop screaming.


The halls of Dalton were bitterly cold. Blaine sat near a fireplace, watching the flames intently while Sam sat nearby and practiced playing guitar. The music was pleasant enough, but after a while it grew jarring, and Blaine turned his head sharply to glare at his friend.

"Enough," he said sternly. "I cannot hear myself think."

Sam frowned but set the guitar down, squinting thoughtfully at his leader. He went to sit beside him, grabbing a poker to absently stoke the fire as he chose his words carefully.

"What has you thinking so intently?" he asked finally.

Blaine's eyes were fixed on the fire. "I fear for Kurt's health," he said easily. "This winter is bitterly cold. He sleeps now, under the blankets I was able to find for him. Perhaps I will go into town and get more. We must make certain he is kept warm."

There was a pause, and Blaine turnned his head slightly to find Sam grinning at him.

"What?" he demanded, frowning.

"Nothing!" Sam insisted, raising his hands in surrender. "It's just that I didn't think it possible."

"Didn't think what possible?"

"For you to fall in love."

Instantly Blaine's hackles were raised. He glared at Sam and shoved his shoulder harshly, knocking him off balance for a moment.

"Don't be an idiot," he snapped. "I--"

He was cut off quite suddenly by the sound of screams.

In an instant he was on his feet, completely forgetting about Sam as he scrambled across the hall toward Kurt's room. It was lucky, perhaps, that he didn't see the smug expression on Sam's face as he went immediately to Kurt's aid.

The human boy was trashing in bed, drenched in sweat, clearly in the throes of a nightmare. Blaine went to his side immediately, catching Kurt in his arms as the other boy bolted upright with a shrill, agonized shriek.

Blaine held him close, his grip firm as he tried to stop Kurt from flailing. Eventually the other boy stilled, sagging in Blaine's arms as terrified sobs shook his frail body.

After a few moments Blaine deemed it safe to let Kurt go, and the first thing Kurt did was lift up his nightshirt to look down at his belly. He exhaled deeply in relief to find it very much intact, his hands moving over the swollen bump which had grown significantly over the last three months.

"Oh thank God," Kurt breathed, falling back against his pillow. "Thank God..."

Blaine bit his lip as he watched Kurt, uncertain. Looking at Kurt never failed to make him see images of his past self, at a human whose emotions were so easily within reach, now miles away from him. His humanity was so frustratingly buried, and he wanted to dig it up faster, wanted it within the palm of his hand so badly it frightened him.

Instead, all he could do was place a hand on Kurt's forehead, feeling for a temperature.
"Are you ill?" he asked.

"No," Kurt said softly, turning away from the touch. Blaine drew his hand away quickly.

"What do you need?"

"Go," said Kurt, his voice hollow. "Just leave, please."

Blaine felt like something with sharp edges had slid across his heart. He nodded, then slowly turned away, taking one last lingering look at Kurt before he left. He saw the other boy roll onto his side, facing the window, surrounded by white light from the snow outside. Then he closed the door and turned to lean against it.

He needed to dig deeper.


Later that day Kurt left Dalton to go into town with Kitty and Marley. The city was bustling even during the winter months, alight with movement underneath the softly falling snow, and Kurt allowed the energy to infect him. Marley was her usual self, enthralled by everything around her, spinning and twirling happily under the snowflakes.

Kitty watched her wordlessly, looking prickly as usual as they walked the cobbled streets. Kurt watched a mother pass by, clutching her child close as she eyed the vampyrs warily, and he felt a knot tighten somewhere in his gut.

"Kitty?" he said softly, and got a small grunt of affirmation in return as she examined some cooking utensils for sale. "Might I ask you something?"

She grunted again, lifting a beautiful embroidered napkin and examining it.

"Has a human ever given birth to a vampyr's child before?" he asked bluntly, his voice tense and urgent. "I mean--to your knowledge."

Kitty looked over at him then, her mouth tight. "I do not know," she replied. "You'd be better off asking one of the older vampyrs."

Kurt sighed, moving closer to her side so he could look at the seller's wares as well. He examined them idly as he spoke, careful to keep his voice down.

"I had a nightmare," he confessed. "The child within me tore my womb asunder. It--it was a monster. And for all I know, my dream could very well become reality. It... My child isn't human, is it?"

"No," said Kitty lightly, looking vaguely disturbed. "I suppose it isn't."

Marley broke the tension then, as she was wont to do, thrusting a toy bear in Kitty's face. Kitty sighed heavily and took it from her to purchase it from the vendor.

Kurt wandered away from them then, lost in his thoughts.


Later that evening, Kurt called for Blaine.

Blaine went to him immediately, those his demeanor was tentative. He knew he was treading fragile ground, and he was careful to micro-manage himself, fearful of being rejected again. It was truly pathetic, he thought-- Though Kurt didn't seem to feel the same.

Instead, the human boy wondered if the Blaine he knew had been entirely a fictional construct, and that he was meeting another man for the first time. Late at night he'd find himself wondering just what to do with the history of Blaine's cruelty--whether he should bury it or carry it in his hand like a weapon to use whenever he needed it.

Now, though, Kurt couldn't care less about Blaine's complicated nature. He sat across from the vampyr on one of Dalton's many extravagant furnishings, holding his belly in one hand as he chose his words carefully.

"I wish to see a doctor," he said plainly.

"I will take you to one," was Blaine's immediate response. "Though I must warn you, we will not be well-received. The humans are even more wary of us than they were Sebastian's men."

"That won't matter," said Kurt. "I need to see someone who has experience with the supernatural. I-- I cannot do this alone, even with my magic. I'm afraid. I have no idea what resides within my womb, Blaine."

What monster I have planted there, Blaine thought, but he did not say it.

"I will find someone," Blaine told him firmly. "Even if I have to go to distant lands. I promise you."

The corner of Kurt's mouth turned up in an amused half-smile and he shook his head. "I wouldn't have you travel too far," he pointed out. "I want you nearby, if only to defend your family."

My family. Blaine's stomach felt oddly tight then, and he felt a sudden, desperate need to touch Kurt. He wanted to hold him close, but as always he feared crushing him.

"Give me a week," he said instead. "I will find one who can help you."

"Thank you," said Kurt, and then he held out his hand. "Help me to bed, please. I'm quite fatigued."

Blaine nodded and took Kurt's hand to help him up, then swept him into his arms. Kurt gasped softly in surprise, but held on without comment, allowing himself to be carried to bed.

It was strange how normal it felt. Most things were strange these days.


Days passed, and the nightmares continued.

Kurt thrashed on the bed, whimpering as visions tormented his dreams, of the baby within him ripping his body to shreds. He woke up as always, drenched in sweat and screaming--and as always, Blaine was there to catch him and hold him tight until he calmed.

It happened late at night when Blaine was feral, so few words were exchanged. Blaine merely held Kurt until he stopped crying, then slowly lowered him back down onto the bed and curled around him protectively until he deemed it safe to pull away. After a while, however, he simply took to shutting himself in the room with Kurt at night, hiding in the darkness and watching over the sleeping human until the pale hours of the morning.

His vampyr brethren weren't pleased. The nighttime hours were the ones in which they needed their leader the most, and yet he spent them locked in the bedroom with Kurt. No one dared speak a word of it, though-- Any words that Blaine deemed insulting to Kurt were met with severe hostility, and Blaine had become incredibly unpredictable in general.

Their leader was changing in a fundamental way, and it wasn't something anyone could control.

It was a bleak, frigid winter morning when Kurt slowly woke, groggy from lack of restful sleep, only to discover that Blaine was sitting in the room with him.

He sat up quickly. "Have you been watching me all night?" he demanded, his voice croaky.

"I had to," Blaine insisted, surprised by Kurt's indignant tone. "You've been having nightmares--"

"Of course I am," Kurt snapped, standing and tugging on his dressing gown. "How could I not, with you looming over me all night like a ghost?"

Blaine bit back the wicked retort that rose to his tongue, so hard it drew blood. He watched Kurt silently, boiling inside, fighting the demon inside him that would never have taken no for an answer.

"I found someone," he finally said.

Kurt turned to look at him from where he was seated at the vanity, brushing his hair. "Pardon?"

"A doctor," Blaine clarified. "He's here in the city."

Just like that, Kurt's salty demeanor evaporated. He set down the brush and clasped his hands together, looking at Blaine with a mixture of disbelief and deep gratitude.

"Thank you," he said earnestly. "Thank you so much. When can we see him?"

"I'll take you to see him today," said Blaine quickly, pleased that Kurt no longer seemed to be upset with him. "At your leisure. Do you need-- Shall I get you breakfast?"

"I can manage, thank you," Kurt replied softly.

Blaine turned to leave then, but Kurt stopped him.

"Wait."

He turned immediately to look back at Kurt.

"Thank you," Kurt repeated, his beauty almost painful to behold. "I mean it."

"You're welcome," said Blaine.

He left Kurt then, to join the other monsters.


A steady flurry of snow surrounded them as Kurt and Blaine walked the city streets, heading down a road Kurt had never seen before. It was filthy and nearly desolate, much like the roads that surrounded the cathedral where they now lived. Blaine steered him along until they reached a small alcove, where Kurt could see a small wooden door and a sign that simply read 'The Star Child'.

Blaine opened the door for him and Kurt stepped inside, and he was immediately reminded of the lair of the Unholy Trinity. The faint, heady scent of perfume surrounded them, and there were strange artifacts and spell ingredients everywhere.

"I thought you were taking me to a doctor," Kurt hissed at Blaine, both disappointed and apprehensive.

"Witch doctor," came a voice nearby.

Kurt turned to see a young man step out of the shadows. He was tall and very good-looking, and was dressed in the most bizarre assortment of clothes Kurt had ever seen. His entire body glittered like an insect, and he wore a top hat and thick black makeup around his eyes.

"Witch doctor?" Kurt repeated, squinting.

"Oh hello," said the young man, grinning at Kurt. "Are you my patient? Aren't you lovely." He took Kurt's hand and kissed it, and Blaine scowled.

"You said you could help him," Blaine reminded him, his voice a low growl.

"Ah yes," said the young man, clasping his gloved hands together. "First, an introduction. I am known in this city as the incredible Star Child, but you may call me Elliot. I was trained as a doctor, but then I discovered that the worlds of medicine and magic are much more alike than you may think."

"You practice healing magic," said Kurt, crossing his arms, clearly unimpressed. "I can do that."

Elliot seemed amused by Kurt's reaction. "A white witch?" he said with interest. "Interesting, interesting. Do you perhaps know that the world of magic isn't strictly divided into black and white? That there are spirits other than God and the Devil?"

"Get to the point," Blaine growled, growing irritated. "Can you help him?"

"Of course," said Elliot, focusing on Kurt. "First, however, I'll need your trust."

He stepped very close then, and Kurt swallowed nervously.

"I don't know," Kurt said softly. "I'm very afraid."

Elliot's expression was very kind. He took Kurt's hand again, ignoring the way Blaine glared at him from a few feet away.

"I will not harm you," said Elliot. "I already know what you've been through. You've been hurt badly, and you fear that your soul is corrupted. Am I correct?"

Kurt stared, speechless, and nodded.

Elliot smiled, then turned away. "Come with me."

Blaine started to follow, but Elliot stopped him.

"Just Kurt," he said, and led Kurt away, much to Blaine's chagrin.

Kurt followed the witch doctor to the back room, nervous and uncertain. He felt no fear, however-- Unlike the lair of the Unholy Trinity, this place didn't reek of dark magic, of unspeakable crime and evil spirits. Instead there was an air of something playful and mysterious, a world of magic that Kurt had never touched before.

"Have a seat," said Elliot, gesturing to a chair in the corner beside a large, glowing cauldron and what was plainly an examination table.

Kurt obeyed, resisting the urge to peer into the cauldron and examine its contents. Elliot was moving around the room, moving objects around and gathering spell components so quickly Kurt could scarcely tell what he was doing. When he returned, he held out a cup for Kurt to take.

"Drink this," he said. When Kurt frowned at him, he shook his head and grinned.

"You know what it is," he teased softly. "Smell it."

Kurt took a whiff and relaxed. "It's chamomile."

"Enjoy," said Elliot, then continued working. He lit a few candles then shook a bundle of herbs in the air, spreading a richly colored smoke around the room. It made Kurt feel instantly relaxed, even more than the tea did.

"Now," said Elliot at last, facing Kurt. "I'm going to examine you. Will you come lie down on the table here?"

Slowly Kurt obeyed, feeling pleasantly warm and relaxed. He lay back, resisting the urge to close his eyes and fall asleep. Indeed, even when Elliot was tugging down his pants and examining him in his most intimate areas, he didn't feel frightened at all. It was as if Elliot knew exactly what trauma he'd been through and had cultivated the room to suit his needs exactly.

"You're doing so well," Elliot murmured after a while. "Would you like to see your child?"

Kurt's eyes widened. "I-- I can see it?"

"In a way," said Elliot. "Sit up for me?"

Kurt propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at his belly. Elliot had laid his hand upon it, and a faint glow appeared beneath the skin, vaguely in the shape of a fetus. Kurt gasped.

"How did you--? What magic is this?"

"My very own," was all Elliot said.

He fell silent then as he continued to examine Kurt, then helped him down off the table once it was done. Kurt dressed quickly, then turned toward the witch doctor, wringing his hands.

"I must know," he said, and finally voiced the anxieties that had been plaguing him for months. "Is my child a monster? It is the offspring of a vampyr. When I give birth to it, will it--"

"Kill you?" Elliot finished for him. "Probably not. You're forgetting; the child is human, too."

Kurt didn't seem convinced. Elliot sighed, then waved his hand swiftly through the air. A white rose materialized and he caught it in his hand before handing it to Kurt.

"Everything will be all right," he said soothingly. "I cannot be certain what the child will be like once it is born-- Only time will tell. But I know that you--your goodness, your white magic--will be an influence on this child's life. I am sure of it."

Kurt took a sniff of the rose, taking in its sweet scent, and finally relaxed.

"Kurt?" came Blaine's voice from the other end of the store. "Are you all right?"

"He's fine," said Elliot, leading Kurt out of the back room. "He is quite healthy. Everything is going well."

Blaine visibly relaxed, putting his hand possessively on the small of Kurt's back.

"Thank you," said Kurt, giving Elliot a grateful smile.

"Come back and see me soon," said Elliot in reply.

Blaine steered Kurt away then, leading him back into the snow outside. They walked in silence back to the cathedral, the air between them much less tense than before. Kurt felt like the snow, in fact-- Much lighter, swept up by the wind, fluttering to somewhere unknown.

But he wasn't afraid.

--