--

The fear in Kurt's heart eventually slept, and what was left was boredom--horrible, itching, aching boredom. He had nothing to do but lie in bed and stare at the wall, hoping that the next time he closed his eyes he'd open them to see his bedroom. It made his heart sick to think of his father and the others worrying about him, but it was all he had to dwell on. The pillow beneath his head was damp with his tears, and he drifted in and out of sleep, slowly willing the pain away.

Night fell, and Kurt grew restless. The pain in his legs had abated enough to walk slowly and carefully, and with a swell of reckless courage he decided to at last leave his room and explore the inn beyond. It was empty and hollow, so the noises from outside could clearly be heard through its thin walls. Kurt could hear shouting from outside, and could see orange light from a bonfire trickle through the cracks in the boarded-up windows.

He wandered closer, listening, and gasped as something heavy hit the outside wall off the inn. What was going on? He could hear cheers mixed in with the shouts, the sound of breaking glass and skin slapping brutally against skin, and his curiosity was driving him mad.

His eyes darted about until they settled on the back wall of the inn. The windows had all been boarded up, but the back one had a gap big enough for him to slip through. He hoisted himself up carefully onto one of the barrels below the window and wormed his way through the hole headfirst, careful not to make too much noise. Unfortunately the fall was steeper than he'd anticipated, and he let out a startled yelp as he landed headfirst on the cold, muddy ground outside.

Fearfully he looked around-- No one had heard him. He pushed himself slowly to his feet, wincing as his hands stung from breaking his fall. His feet pressed into soft mud as he walked around the edge of the inn, pressing close to the side of it as he peered around at the scene before him in the town square. His jaw dropped.

The vampyrs were tightly gathered around a roaring bonfire, whooping and shouting as a vicious fight raged before them. Kurt could see that one of the fighters was Puck--eyes wild and teeth bared, bare chest glistening in the firelight as he stood back and grinned at his fallen opponent, a younger man with brown skin streaked with dirt and blood. Puck licked at a gash near his lip as he stretched his neck muscles, watching as the younger man struggled to get to his feet from where he'd been face-down in the mud.

"Come, little brother," Puck goaded loudly. "You aren't done yet-- Come at me! Or has your soft heart accepted defeat?"

The younger man growled from his position near the ground, his expression murderous. Then with the loping grace of a wild animal he lashed out, , grabbing Puck around the midsection and forcing him down into the mud. The surrounding vampyrs cheered and egged him on--all except for the wild-eyed girl from before, who was wringing her hands and watching Puck's little brother anxiously.

In a savage display the two brothers fought, beating and tearing into one another like a pair of rabid wolves. Kurt's stomach turned as he watched--but strangely, he found himself far more disgusted by the recreational aspect of it all than by the violence itself. Was this their idea of entertainment?

Puck's younger brother was putting up a hell of a fight, pinning Puck down in the mud and scratching deeply into his flesh. As he pulled back his hand to deliver an open-handed slap, however, Puck managed to grab him and throw him off-- Kurt saw the wild-eyed girl shriek and clutch at her face as Puck flung his younger brother ruthlessly to the ground, pinning him with one foot while the other delivered a series of punishing kicks to his abdomen. The younger man gasped for breath and curled in on himself, rolling onto his side, and after three seconds of agonized struggling he finally went still.

Grinning savagely, Puck let out a roar of victory and raised his arms as the spectators around him screeched with sadistic glee. Kurt saw the wild-eyed girl break from the crowd and drop to her knees in the mud, crawling forward to gether the fallen vampyr into her arms. She cooed and stroked his coarse hair as the rest of the vampyrs gathered around Puck to congratulate him, pressing around him adoringly. Two of them wrestled through to present Puck with what Kurt was appalled to see was the severed head of a deer. Puck tore a chunk off of it with his teeth and raised the mutilated head high in the air, letting out another victorious cry.

Kurt had seen enough. He tore his eyes away and turned around--

--only to come face-to-face with Blaine.

The leader of the vampyrs seized him roughly by the wrists and effortlessly pinned him against the wall of the inn. Kurt's veins went ice-cold and taut with utter terror as Blaine closed in, his red-yellow eyes staring him down like a predator sizing up its prey, following every drop of cold sweat that slid down Kurt's brow.

"I've got you, little sparrow," Blaine murmured.

"I'm sorry," said Kurt in a tiny voice. "I'm so sorry. Please don't--"

Before he could say another word Blaine's head descended, and once more sank his fangs deep into the flesh of Kurt's neck. Kurt howled in agony as he was fed upon, sratching helplessly at the wall behind him, tearing up strips of old paint and splinters of wood that cut deep into his fingertips. It wasn't long before he passed out cold, and his body slid sideways down the wall before Blaine held out an arm to catch him.

Blaine stared down at the pitiful creature in his arms--small and beautiful and so completely breakable--then hefted him up and carried him back inside.

--

The little boy walked up the hill, a basket of flowers over his arm. He knew he'd wandered too far away from the house, but the flowers mother loved best grew here, and he wanted very much to make her happy. His little legs grew tired, however, so he made his way back through the old cemetery, where a thick layer of fog had settled.

He had to stop to take a break. In doing so he heard a strange noise--a dog in pain. Curious, he followed the sound to the other side of a mauseleum, and found a wild dog lying there. Was it a wolf? A coyote? He wasn't sure, but it looked like it was starving.

The little boy reached into his basket and somehow found a piece of raw meat that had not been there before. He held it out for the dog and watched as it weakly accepted the offering. It ate as if it had never eaten before, as if nothing had ever tasted so good.

The dog looked up at him with big brown eyes, and though dogs couldn't talk, the little boy knew it meant 'thank you'.

The little boy smiled.

--

Sunlight fell on Kurt's face, and he slowly opened his eyes to find himself back in bed--and not alone.

A young woman with dusty blonde hair stood beside him, cutting up what looked like a pear into quarters, and he blinked up at her bemusedly. His eyes wandered over her clothes, which were tattered and distinctly wench-like; she wore a corset that left little to the imagination, and Kurt could see scars very much like the ones Blaine had covering the upper part of her pale, round breasts. She had the distinct air of someone who ought not to be trifled with, and Kurt was quiet for a few moments before he decided to speak.

"Who are you?" he croaked, his hand falling to cover the stinging bite marks on his neck.

"Katrina," the girl replied. "Everyone calls me Kitty, so you're quite better off using that. Here, eat this." She pushed a quarter of pear into his hand.

Kurt still felt nauseated from loss of blood, but he forced the food down anyway. It was certainly much better than anything else he'd been fed in this place.

"I assumed you'd take better to that than to age-old bread," Kitty said dryly as she continued cutting. "Blaine and the others haven't been human for a long time. They've forgotten what it's like."

"And you haven't?" said Kurt, slowly sitting up as he chewed the pear. It wasn't quite ripe, but it was a far cry from the moldy bread and the mushy apples from before.

"I was human until quite recently," Kitty explained simply. She was quiet after that, and Kurt realized suddenly why her scars looked so much fresher than Blaine's.

Suddenly the door opened, and in walked the girl with the wild eyes, her arms clamped around what looked like a bundle of red cloth. She looked terribly young, Kurt thought distantly, and wondered why all the vampyrs he'd met seemed as though they were little more than teenagers.

Kitty's lip curled at the sight of her. "Your legs are as slow as your head, Marley," she scoffed. "Drop those there. The human needs to eat before he can sew anything."

"Sew?" Kurt's brow furrowed.

"Did you expect we'd leave you here lying in bed all day, completely useless?" Kitty drawled, rolling her eyes. "You're to sew and repair those cloaks. The party taking you to the city is to wear them, as part of the offering."

Kurt dropped the pear he was holding, no longer hungry. "I refuse," he said darkly. "I'll not be a part of--of whatever you're planning, any of you."

"Fine," said Kitty, utterly apathetic to Kurt's confusion and anger. "Lie around and be useless, then, and go mad from boredom. We frankly could not care less about the state your head is in, and neither will the city leader. Isn't that right, Marley?"

Marley just looked vaguely frightened, wringing her hands anxiously. Kitty rolled her eyes again and ushered her out of the room.

"Go on and tend to Jake," she told her, and it occurred to Kurt that she must have been talking about Puck's younger brother. Kurt thought about the fight from the night before, what a bloody and vile display it had been--and then what had followed, the look in Blaine's eyes as he trapped Kurt yet again, feasted upon him--

'I've got you, little sparrow.'

Kurt's eyes wandered down to the pear on the table beside him, at the knife that rested nearby. It was so close, and yet Kurt couldn't imagine it serving as much of a weapon against the vampyrs. His mind wandered to darker places, places he'd undoubtedly return to when he was left alone again that night, but for the moment he tore his eyes away and looked instead at the pear.

An idea spread through his mind, blossoming like a flower, and adrenaline began to trickle through him and shake his nerves awake.

"Do you know of any other plants that grow in this area?" he asked Kitty suddenly, who looked vaguely unimpressed as plucked the knife from the table and tossed it back into her basket. "Nettles, in particular?"

"I suppose," she drawled. "Why?"

"I'm in pain," said Kurt quickly. "I won't be able to do any work for you if I cannot heal."

"And nettles will help with that?" Kitty replied skeptically. She didn't appear to know much about herbs, though, so she just shrugged. "I'll fetch some, then, and bring them back with your needle and thread. But don't expect me to keep running errands for you."

"I won't," Kurt assured her. His excitement grew, but he kept it carefully under wraps as Kitty left and returned minutes later with the nettles. He waited until she and the other vampyrs had cleared the inn completely, and then he began to work.

It was difficult to do a proper spell with so few ingredients, but Kurt had managed with less before. He knelt before the fireplace, stoking the flames until they were spreading their wild light over the walls and dancing like a chorus before him. At his knees lay the nettles and the pear seeds, resting in the soft bed of ash before the fire, and using the fire poker he began draw gracefully curved shapes and symbols.

With a small stone he'd found downstairs he began to mash up the nettles and seeds, pressing them deep into the bed of ash. His heart pounded all the while; he'd never attempted a spell like this before, and the fact that it came close to violating the laws of his kind was the least of his problems. Nonetheless he lost himself in it, murmuring words as memories wove in and out of his mind, sweet and fleeting. He continued grinding up the plants until they made a crumbly paste, then wove the ash around it, drawing a circle with the poker in one swift, fluid movement.

It was done. He opened his eyes and reached over to grab the small bag Kitty had given him earlier, dumping out the sewing supplies within so he could fill it instead with the enchanted ash. He could only fit a few handfuls, and he prayed it would be enough.

He took a deep breath, screwing up his courage. It was time to get out of here.

--

It was late afternoon when Kurt decided to put his plan into action. His heart hummed relentlessly in his chest as he slipped down the stairs of the inn, crossing the foyer to peer out the front window. The vampyrs outside were mostly scattered, forming clusters about the village, and Kurt studied their movements carefully. Once he was sure he wouldn't be spotted he moved to the window he'd used the night before, hefting himself up and slipping out onto the muddy ground outside. He pulled himself to his feet, and as he circled the inn he kept his hand inside the pouch, fingers closing around a handful of the ash inside.

He was certain that once he cleared the town square it would be a straight shot into the woods, and he wouldn't have to use the enchanted ash at all. As he waded through the mud outside the inn, though, his foot sank ankle-deep into a wallow--creating a loud squelching noise that would have been easily heard by human ears, let alone vampyr ones.

Sure enough, the cluster of vampyrs near the well spotted him immediately. Kurt cursed struggled to yank his foot free from the mud as they splashed toward him, and sprang free just in time to fling a handful of ash in their direction. It instantly exploded in a cloud of thick black smoke, utterly obscuring the area around the well, engulfing the vampyrs. Kurt turned and ran and didn't dare look behind him, but he could hear the vampyrs crying out in pain as their noses and eyes were flooded with the foul-smelling, stinging substance he'd created.

Now that he was spotted Kurt had no choice but to run as fast as he could. As he made his way toward the woods he heard pockers of pursuers from all sides--he kept on flinging the ash, creating a trail of opaque smoke behind him, until a cloud had formed so dense and sprawling that he could slip past the forest limits unnoticed.

He didn't stop. He kept running until his lungs burned and his legs threatened to buckle, and after what felt like a lifetime he fell onto his hands and knees, sobbing and gasping for breath. It took him a moment to pull himself together--and once he did, all he could hear were the muted sounds of the woods, closing around him and cradling him like they once did.

I've lost them.

Unwilling to relax just yet, Kurt slowly pushed himself to his feet and kept walking. The sky was thick with dark clouds, and a distant roll of thunder gave way to raindrops tumbling down from above. With nothing but the flimsy tunic Blaine had given him to wear, Kurt could only wrap his arms tightly about himself for warmth as he scaled the woods alone and with no clear knowledge of where he was going.

He walked for what felt like hours. His legs ached badly; his body had not yet recovered from the abuse of the days prior, and he feared he'd collapse if he didn't find the path to the village soon. Tears blotted his vision as he quickened his pace, stumbling on the uneven ground, cold and frightened and overwhelmed with relentless pain.

The rain blotted out most of the noise around him, but as he approached a steep incline he could have sworn he heard footsteps nearby. He froze in place, listening hard--and sure enough, s twig snapped from what sounded like only a few yards away.

Kurt sucked in a horrified gasp and started to run, flinging himself through the brambles and thickets and branches that covered the incline, tearing into his skin. He couldn't bear to think of what the vampyrs would do to him if he were caught--of what Blaine would do--but he was all but certain he wouldn't come out of it alive. The enchanted ashes were gone; all he had were his own two feet and mindless determination, a wing and a prayer that he'd make it back home alive, and he could only run for his life.

There was no way of knowing what direction he was running in--all he knew was that he had to get away. Blinded by rain, he threw himself forward until he found himself colliding with something warm and solid.

He let out a choked scream as he was seized and dragged against a broad chest, and he struggled with all his might, striking out with his fists and twisting violently in the stranger's grasp.

"Let me go!" he shrieked. "Let me go, let me--"

"Kurt!" he heard a familiar voice as the person holding him grabbed his wrists, stilling him. "Kurt, calm down! Good god--"

It slowly occured to Kurt as he fought that the voice belonged to someone he knew--and sure enough, when he opened his eyes he could see Adam's rain-streaked face looking at back at him with concern.

Relief and confusion swept over him, and he didn't have time to speak before Adam pulled him forward into a crushing hug.

"Good god," Adam said again, sounding breathless. "I thought... Everyone thought..."

"I'm all right," Kurt croaked, speaking at last, and let himself reach around Adam and hug him back. "Adam."

Relief slowly spread through his body. Despite the confusion he felt about his feelings for the other man, he would always make Kurt feel safe. He'd protected Kurt ever since he was a child, when the other little boys would throw sticks and rocks at him. Adam would always chase them away, then hold Kurt until the tears stopped.

After a long time Adam pulled back again and quickly examined Kurt's face and body. His thumb traced over a cut on Kurt's cheek. "God, what have They done to you, darling?" he said in a strained voice, guilt marring his handsome features. "Oh god, Kurt, I must apologize. My behavior that day, I-- I should have asked your permission, it's no wonder you ran away, I feel completely responsible--"

"It's all right," Kurt assured him quickly, and urgently took his arm. "Listen, Adam-- We must keep moving. They're out there, Adam, and They'll be after me."

"Right," said Adam, pulling himself together, and he stood so he could hoist Kurt up to his feet. "The village is back this way. Everyone has been looking for you, Kurt, your father included. We've all been worried sick about you."

"Is he all right?" Kurt asked immediately, holding onto Adam's arm for support as they turned and started to walk.

"Yes," Adam replied hastily. "Yes, he's fine." There was a pause as Adam seemed to wrestle with something. He took a deep breath as if steeling himself. "Listen, Kurt. I--"

He was cut off by the sound of a large branch snapping in two. The sound was muffled by the rain, but it had to have been nearby. Kurt's eyes widened in terror and he tugged hard at Adam's arm.

"Run."

Once again the forest became a blur. Kurt pushed his body harder than he'd ever had to before, and he clung to Adam as they stumbled the rest of the way down the incline. On the way down Kurt tripped and pitched forward, sliding down a few feet before Adam could reach him and pull him back up. Mud surged up and splashed all over Kurt's face, and he spat out a foul-tasting mouthful, pushing himself weakly off the ground. As he struggled to get his bearings a pair of feet stepped into his line of vision, and he could feel someone standing over him.

He looked up, blinking out the rain, and his blood turned to ice.

Blaine.

Adam slid the rest of the way down the incline and immediately moved to shield Kurt's body with his own. "Stay away!" he shouted. "I'll not let you take him again!"

In a fraction of a second Blaine's hands were on Adam, wrenching him away from Kurt and flinging him to the ground. Kurt screamed as Blaine handled Adam as if he were little more than a rag doll-- As soon as he landed Blaine was on him again, yanking him up off the ground to toss him against a gathering of rocks near the mouth of the stream below. Kurt watched in horror as his friend's body collided and fell, a broken pile of limbs crumbling at the edge of the water.

Adam lifted his head, coughing. Blaine moved toward him again and Kurt let out a strangled "No!", straightening his limbs as he tried to push himself to his feet. His body screamed with pain but he fought through it relentlessly, desperate to save his friend from almost certain death. As he tried to get closer Blaine reached for Adam again, seizing him by the scruff of his neck and hauling him up off the ground. He held the other man at face level, examining him as if looking at a rather interesting specimen of animal.

"Look at you," Blaine said softly, appraisingly. "Such a handsome face. Did you think you could take my little sparrow away from me?"

He punctuated his words by headbutting Adam with a sickening crunching sound that made Kurt's heart roll out of his chest.

"Stop!" Kurt screamed. "Leave him alone!"

Adam's head lolled listelessly to the side, his eyes unfocused as blood trickled down his forehead. Blaine looked over at Kurt at last, still holding Adam by the collar, one hand poised to strike him. Kurt reached out a hand as if to stop him, but the blow fell, hitting Adam brutally on the side of the face--Adam's head twisted to the side, thrown by the punch, and it didn't stop there. Blaine dropped Adam into the shallow water of the creek and kicked him around like a child might, laughing with sadistic glee at his victim's slowly dying moans of agony.

Utterly helpless, Kurt fell to his knees, clutching at his face as tears gathered in his eyes. "Stop," he sobbed. "Please, you're going to kill him..."

Blaine looked over from where he stood ankle-deep in the water, raising an eyebrow. The rain fell in a delicate mist over his bare skin, and he peered through his wet curls at the human kneeling before him.

"Why?" he said simply. "He's weak, isn't he? All of you are. Fragile, like little dolls. Here, I'll prove it." He waded over to where Adam lay writing in the shallow water and seized him by the arm. Kurt barely had time to scream before Blaine twisted it upward and, with a sound that split the air like a gunshot, broke it.

Adam's scream carried far above the treetops, ringing overhead like a siren. Kurt pushed himself to his hands and feet, fingers clawing through the mud as he crawled into the water. He could feel Blaine's eyes on him as he dragged himself foward to drape his body over Adam's now-unconscious form.

"What are you doing?" said Blaine dryly. "You really think you can protect him?"

Kurt ignored him. With all his strength he dragged Adam closer to shore, trying to get him as far away from Blaine as possible. He could only manage it for a few yards before his body gave way from exhaustion and he could only hold his friend close, shielding him with his body as the rain continued to cascade over them.

"I can kill him," Blaine continued, hands in his pockets as he waded over to them. "You really can't protect him from me, little sparrow. You can't even protect yourself."

Kurt was quiet for a long time. He stared at Adam's pale, bloodied face, stroking the matted blonde hair, paralyzed with grief. He came for me, he thought suddenly. Even after finding out what I am. He came for me. He protected me...

Blaine's footsteps got closer, and before Kurt knew it he was standing over them, reaching down to seize Adam and drag him out of Kurt's arms. He saw Blaine open his mouth, saw his fangs lengthen, and didn't hesitate another moment.

His voice cracked as he cried out, "I'll go with you!"

Just like that, Blaine stopped. His head turned just slightly, his expression unreadable as silence cut the air around them. The rain continued to fall in a delicate mist, settling in a soft fog on the forest floor. Blaine hadn't let go of Adam yet, but his eyes were fixed hard on Kurt.

"What did you say?"

"I'll go with you," Kurt repeated, his voice softening. He reached down to tug the small cloth bag from his belt then thrust it at Blaine. "Here. This is what I used to escape. I-- I won't make anymore. I'll never try to escape again, I promise. Just please...please don't kill him."

There was another long pause, and Blaine frowned. "Some of the others have lost their sight and smell," he said quietly. "It's more than likely temporary, but incredibly painful."

"I know," said Kurt desperately. "I can heal them. And I--I'll sew for you, and I'll go with you into the city, and I'll be yours. I promise." There was a moment's pause that seemed to contain an eternity, and then he added, "Forever."

Silence fell once more. For a long time it seemed as though Blaine wasn't going to comply, his stature rigid, still beneath the steadily falling water. Then slowly, miraculously, he lowered Adam's body to the ground, laying him down on the wet leaves below. Adam's body was utterly still, splayed like a forgotten doll, and Kurt thought quickly.

"There are medicinal herbs here," he said suddenly, eyes fixed on Adam--or Adam's body. He couldn't be certain which. "All around the bank. Let me heal him enough to go back to town, and then--then we can go home."

The word home physically hurt to say, but it seemed to be enough for Blaine. The vampyr leader nodded, then moved across the bank to lean against a nearby tree. Kurt took that as his cue to get moving, so he pushed himself to his feet and set about gathering the herbs. He could only yank flowers and weeds from around the bank, and he collapsed on his knees before Adam so he could perform a haphazard spell.

It was completely unorthodox, and Kurt had no idea if it would work. He could feel Blaine's eyes on him, hot needles pricking the back of his skull, but he focused as much as he could. Please come back, he thought as he lay the flowers over Adam's chest. Please don't be dead.

At last Adam's eyelashes fluttered and he groan, stirring on the ground. Kurt exhaled and took his friend by the hand, stroking it soothingly.

"Kurt?" Adam groaned when he came to, and Kurt shushes him.

"Adam, listen," Kurt said clearly. "I'm going away for a while. Maybe a long time, but--but I'll be safe, all right? You can't come looking for me anymore." His eyes welled up with tears, but he refused to let them fall. "Go back to the village and tell everyone that for me, all right? And..." He held back a sob as it crawled up his chest. "Tell my father I love him."

Adam blinked, weary and confused. "Kurt, wha..."

Kurt leaned down and kissed Adam's cheek before drawing away. "Goodbye."

"Kurt--" Adam pushed himself up, reaching out." Kurt!"

Unable to linger a moment longer, Kurt got to his feet. The rain had stopped, and Kurt could see the gold light of the sunset weaving through the heavy clouds. Without another word he turned and left, unwilling to look at Blaine or Adam. For some reason a strange thought kept appearing in his mind--a memory or a dream, a little boy in a red hood running off with the wolf, leaving his home and his humanity behind.

"Kurt!"

The forest closed around him and the clouds moved, shutting out the light as he and Blaine left for the vampyr village. They walked until the stream and Adam's voice could no longer be heard, and Kurt at once collapsed with exhaustion. He felt Blaine lift him up onto his back, and he held on tightly for the rest of the journey, eyes closed as he finally let himself cry.

--