~ CHAPTER 2 ~
The Warblers


Jack "Andy" Anderson had another crowded day in his store house—mostly the people referred it to as Hillstore, the only best grocery market in town—as he re-reread the list of items yet to be delivered. Lack of packed cakes and donuts was an acceptable set back, people could live without them, and they could bake them or buy it from Unique's Bakery. But the sever lack of coffee, eggs and sugar was a floodgate of worries. For the time being, just a worry for him. But soon the small grocers down in town will use up their last stock. They would come here to him to buy new stock. That's when the floodgate would burst.

He heard slow shuffle of bare feet behind him and turned to find his son, Blaine in the warehouse doorway. He was in his pajama bottoms and tank-top, his curly hair rumpled up in an adorable way. He was rubbing his eyes even as he tried to walk toward his father.

"Why are you still here, Dad?" he asked sleepily.

Andy hadn't realized how late it was. The reassessment of his last, insufficient delivery had left him occupied. "Did I miss dinner?"

Blaine gave him a disapproving look. "You even missed the night cupp'a. It's nearly midnight, Dad."

Andy sighed and set aside the clipboard. "We should get back to bed then."

But Blaine eyes had followed the clipboard and were still glued to where it sat on the table. "More problems with the deliveries?"

Andy usually discussed the business problems with his son. Blaine was just as intelligent and levelheaded as his late mother—a skill that made him an effective leader of the Warblers. But the usual discussion was a result of minor setbacks—a delivery item or two missing from the stock. Andy wasn't sure if he could tell Blaine about this latest mishap. His son will get troubled for no reason. Or for a good reason if Andy knew his son well enough.

"Oh, just a few items didn't get send here. The movers may have made some mistakes."

As always, Blaine caught up on his Dad's lie. "How many items?"

"A few."

"You wouldn't lie to me if it were just a few items, Dad."

Andy resigned with a sigh. "If a rough guess suffice, we have no sugar, no dairy and no coffee—along with some other thirty items. What would happen when they come here to buy at sun up?"

Blaine stood stock still, his eyes wide, all traces of sleep gone. "But that's impossible! That would mean we have just a quarter of our share of items delivered to us!"

"Yes, that's what it is. I didn't notice it before but, this is by far the major setback we've had in last three months."

"And you didn't tell me?" Blaine reprimanded him with an angry glint in his hazel eyes. "Dammit, Dad! We could've done something about it!"

"Like what, Blaine?" Andy countered, sighing in frustration. "Kidnapping the deliverer? Beating out the truth from him? You now we can't do that."

Blaine shrank back a little. "That's not what I meant, Dad, and you know it. I just meant we could've complained or something. You know how much our supplies mean to this town. People depend on it."

"I just hope that people don't blame us when we fail to deliver to them in the morning," Andy said with discouraging look in his eyes. "Come on, we should go back to sleep."

The father and son locked the warehouse securely and headed to the mansion house just beyond a stretch of garden. The Dalton house was dark and silent, except for two people standing guard on the roof.

Andy looked up at Thad and Kevin. "Everything clear up there, boys?"

"Yep, Andy," Thad said softly, his voice carrying down in the silent night. "You look bummed."

"It's the deliveries again," Blaine said evasively. He couldn't let his team worry any more tonight. "Where's Nick and Jeff?"

"Already headed to Hummels as planned," Kevin replied and then went back to examining the Dalton grounds.

"Good," Andy said. "Keep us safe tonight, boys. Good night."

There were more mumbles of Goodnight and then they both entered the silent house.

"Dad?" his voice barely a whisper.

"Yes, Blaine?"

"Why do we have to keep the new Hummel safe?"

"Because it's the only way to earn Burt's allegiance. And also because we need them. Burt control the oil and petrol of this town, his association with us can be valuable."

Blaine nodded, waiting for more information. He already knew about the position of Hummels in Hilltown.

"And also because the new kid has talent. Burt believes that his mother may reappear to claim in again. We can't let that happen, you know why."

Blaine needed no more explanation. "The Smyths will ruin him."

"Exactly," Andy said with a smile. "Do you have any errands tonight or are you hitting the hay?"

"No, I will stay in tonight. Nick and Jeff will keep watch on Hummels."

"Good night, then, son."

"Good night, Dad. Love you."

Andy gave him a tired, sleepy smile and both men returned to their rooms for the night.
~~

I find this undecided mood of Hilltown's weather kind of irritating. Hot, muggy days and chilling nights. What is this place, really? If I was a superstitious sort, I'd blame it on some stupid curse.
This is the fifth night that I wake up shivering like an old man. Carole, good on her, keeps the soft new blanket folded at the foot of my bed now. It is almost a relief when I yank the blanket on and cuddle with my pillow. My body heat building and calming me.

If the autumn is like this, Hilltown's winter must be unbearable.

Sleep takes some time in coming. My thoughts wander of their own accord.

Puck was taking me to the fields in the morning, to introduce me to my weekend job, he said. The word "field" still rattled me. And to think that half my friends work outside, farming in the lands everyday in this bullshit weather, was unnerving.

Burt had agreed easily when Finn explained Puck's—in his opinion—genius plan. In fact, my uncle looked almost thrilled at the idea. I tried to protest and explain what sun did to my poor skin, but no use.

"It's always cloudy here, Kurt," Burt had said. "Besides, you can't stay idle. Everyone here has to work in some way. You'll be drawing a lot more attention if you stood out by doing nothing."

In other words, you have to serve because you belong to serving class. I still wasn't sure about how this worked, but I was planning on making it easier on Burt. He already has done so much for me.

He talked to Sheriff Motta about the way I got treated in school. The Sheriff hadn't looked really thrilled but he made necessary announcement in the school assembly, as was law. The announcement, instead of dragging away the attention, had increased the looks that I was starting to get. But people—and Trinity and team—had left me well alone after that. They still sneered at me, but avoided me for most part.

My dress sense had gone from simple to absolutely bogus. I had to borrow a few of Finn's old clothes. I looked a sight in his oversized, smelly and bland clothes but they were practical and passable.

Puckpeople—as Puck liked to call his and mine friends—were constantly on watch for me. A fact that I found both endearing and irritating. First few days of having Rory and Rider following me around to classes and locker, and then I broke out on Finn. Now, the Puckpeople stayed out of my way. But I can swear I see Mercedes and Tina hovering around me, Sam and Jake sometimes leaned around the hallways, their eyes glued to me and my immediate surroundings. Joe had made a habit of passing me in the hallways frequently, sometimes stopping by to say hi.

This evasive security bothered me more than when they used to walk with me. At least then it felt like we were friends hanging out. Now it feels as if they really are keeping an eye out on a vigilante.

It isn't until yesterday that I understood the real reason of their watch keeping.

I was just getting out of the French class when Azimio stopped me. "Oh, Kurt...can you help me with my assignment?"

This was the first time he had talked to me as a person, rather than swearing at me or sneering while we partnered up in lessons. I looked at his face and saw only worry and nervousness.

"Uh, sure, yeah. I can go through some points with you, but the rest you'll have to do on your own."

He looked relived at that and smiled. "Thanks! I can meet you in basketball court, then? Shall we say, in the break?"

I found myself agreeing to his plans. He left me with a lot more friendly attitude than before. I was still suspicious as to why he chose the basketball court; it was empty during the break to the best of my knowledge. But then I decided that he wouldn't want to be seen by his Trinity friends while he worked with me.

Later on, I almost told Rachel Berry about my plans. But fortunately, Rachel was talking away in full fledge mode about her new glee solo and a new plot twist in that sitcom.

I made my way to the basketball court, avoiding my silent security guards on the way, and entered the deserted court. I nearly left, but waited for a few minutes, when Azimio came.

But he wasn't alone.

"I told them that you were helping so I brought them too," he explained hurriedly. "Don't worry they won't hurt you." The casual way he mentioned that set me off a little. But the boys made no move to hurt me.

Karofsky, wearing his haughty sneer, put down his book and sat down on the floor. Lauren plopped down beside him and started typing on her iPhone, ignoring me completely. While the other boy just stared at me, his face calculating and calm.

I started the lesson slowly, waiting for the break out. But surprisingly, none of them did anything. In fact, after a couple of minutes, they were immersed in my translation and even asking me random questions when they didn't get the meaning.

Just as the lesson was about to end, I realized I hadn't seen the slim boy before. His face was handsome, but there was look of pride in his brown eyes that ticked me off. With I jolt I realized that he didn't even study here.

"Who are you?" I asked him. "I mean, do you have any question?"

The others stiffened a little and looked at the boy with repressed expressions. They almost treated him like a leader figure.

"Sebastian Smyth," said the boy, a smile fracturing his face.

I tried not stare. He really was handsome and quite charming when he smiled. But his eyes still made me wary. There was something dormant in them, something dangerous.

"I don't believe we've met?" he held out his hand.

After a moment, I shook it. To my surprise, he bent over and kissed my hand, gentleman style. He chuckled at my stunned expression, the same proud wave washing over his features.

"That was a really good lesson, right guys?" His friends nodded. "We should do this again."

"You don't even study here," I protested weakly.

He laughed a little. "But I can come and go as I like. And I really enjoyed listening to your voice as you speak French so beautifully. I will like to do this again."

"No," I refused. Mainly because his open (and flirty, I think) behavior made me edgy. I was trying to pass as a straight person. "I just promised to help in this assignment. You can do the rest on your own."

I got up to leave and Sebastian's hand grabbed my wrist, stopping me. His hold was tight and I winced when it got tighter still.

"Let go."

"Sit down and decide calmly," he said, his demeanor changing rapidly from handsome to terrifying.

"No. Let me go." I reeled in my tears somehow.

At that moment, Sam and Mr Schuester of glee club burst in the door. They looked at Sebastian holding my wrist and my pained expression and leapt into action.

Sam knocked Sebastian's hand away and dragged me out of the way. Mr Schuester grabbed Sebastian from his collar. The others got ready to fight but stayed back at a signal from Sebastian.

"What are you doing on school premises?" asked Mr Schuester. "You aren't allowed here, Smyth, or have you forgotten?"

Sebastian only smiled. He looked disgusting when he did that. "I would let go if I were you, Will. Or have you forgotten what we did to Terry?"

Will went still, his eyes popping in rage and pain. But he let go of Smyth and said, "Out with you, you filthy maggot! Or I will call the cavalry."

"Whatever you say," said Sebastian. He and his friends walked around Will and toward the door. Sebastian leaned closer to me as he passed us. "See you around, beautiful."

Then we were alone.

Sam let go of my hand with a huff and Will turned on me angrily. "You were supposed to be in caf�!"

I stammered as I explained about the French assignment. Will frowned when I told him that Azimio was my class partner.

"I can't believe Kelly let him be you partner! What was she thinking? Sam, take him back to your friends. I will talk to Figgins about Kelly."

Sam had then led me to caf�, looking at me with disapproving expression throughout the way. "You shouldn't have done that," he said at last as we entered the noisy caf�. "We are trying so hard to keep you safe and you go right into our enemies' lap!"

"Enemy?"

"Sebastian Smyth. Son of Edward Smyth. The Mayor."

Meaning head of the ruling class. I internally cursed myself and we sat down around the table.

"Where were you?" asked Mercedes.

"He needed to go to the men's room," said Sam evasively. "I think that Hilltown's water didn't suite him well."

There were soft sniggers around our table, Rachel handed me a tablet saying, "This will make your stomach settle, Kurt." It evoked more laughter.

But out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Sam lean close to Puck and speak softly. Puck's features turned sour but he only nodded once. The rest of the lunch had gone without incident.


A blush of humiliation crawls up my face as I rethink on today's events. It was stupid of me to trust Azimio at all. Yes, the lesson had gone without trouble. Yes, they hadn't hurt me. But that Smyth boy still gave shivers. Both good and bad kind. But I was ashamed at how my body had reacted to him.

I groan into my pillow as I try to sleep. But my mood is bitter and I am sure I'll have a headache in the morning.

I get out of my bed and decide on having a shower and a thorough moisturizing routine (the products were courtesy of Carole.) If I have to spend the whole weekend out in fields, I might as well get extra precautious. I grab my towel and have a quick shower. I wrap my bathrobe around me and settle in front of my mirror.

Just as I start up with initial layering of lotion, a flash of light gleams in my mirror, reflecting off it, and into my eyes that I have to close them. My room is relatively dark, with just a lamp on near me to help me see what I am doing. The rest of the room is plunged in semi darkness, not enough to be seen through thin curtains of my window.

A globe of light appears in my curtains again, reflecting off the mirror once more. I sit still. Either there's a car outside or a security guard on his night petrol—but someone is checking into my room with a flashlight.

I get up slowly and make my way to the window. I check the street but it is empty, Burt's jeep sit silently in the driveway. There's no other car for as far as I can see in the street lights. Then a flash of movement catches my attention and I look straight at the house in front of us.

There's a stretch of two lawns and a street between us, more than hundred feet, I assume. But I can easily see two men standing on the roof of the other house. They stand close together, sometimes walking or talking. But unmistakably, these are two men I know, sort of. One of them is a fake-blonde and the other is dark-haired. They wear casual jeans and shirt that can pass for undershirts easily. They both have heavy, dark jackets on.

They are the same boys I saw from my window the first night. They were from the group that had walked home alone.

What are they doing here? At this time? I check my clock and, yes, it's nearly 4 in the morning. How long have they been here?

And most importantly, why are they outside our house?

The answer presents itself to me slowly, but firmly. With my extra secured life in school, and sometimes in house, it only makes sense that they would keep eye on me in the night as well. But I feel angry suddenly. This is beyond normal and I needed explanation.

If Puck thinks he can treat me like a wild animal than he was about to have a piece of my mind. I will tell him what's what when he comes to get me this morning.

With this resolution, and anger, I finish my moisturizing routine, throw on a new pair of boxers and a dark grey tank top and climb into my bed. I sleep fitfully for the remainder of night.
~~

"How much time left?" Nick asked quietly, scanning the area once more, for the hundredth time that night.

"Oh, two hours till sun up," said Jeff. He was looking a bit tired now.

"Why, Sterling? Already tired are you?" Nick teased. "We had just one night of watching. There's gonna be a lot more later."

Jeff grins evilly, scooting closer to Nick. "Is that an invitation, Duval? Because you know when it comes to fun I don't get tired."

Nick shook his head in defeat. "Only you, Jeff. Its already unbearably cold and you still want to irritate me."

"I can help warm you up, if you like?" Jeff moved in closer, breathing his hot breath near Nick's ear.

Nick shivered visibly and stepped away from him. "Manners, Jeff. It's not right."

"Why not? Just because I'm not gay doesn't..."

"Please, don't." Nick sighed again and turned on his flashlight. He thought he saw something move beneath the tree in Hummels' lawn. It turned out to be a cat only. He dragged the beam of his flashlight up to the second window, just above the front porch and front door.

"The new kid's room, right?" Jeff said casually.

"According to what Andy told us, yes."

They both hum in agreement. Nick turns off the light after checking a second time. Nothing out of ordinary to report.

They drift into uncomfortable silence. Jeff sneaked a few glances in Nick's direction but the boy ignored him, keeping his eyes trained on the street and surroundings.

Nick Duval was the only openly gay person in the entire Hilltown, and it's the reason why he smiled rarely or why he lived at the Dalton house. His parents had kicked him out in the streets, calling him vulgarities and beating him till he had ran away. He hid most of those first few days in a deserted warehouse near the Hill Tavern.

Blaine and Wes had found him there one night after they had a late night meeting with Sue and Riley Puckerman. It had taken him a while to convince them that he was a sworn family member but his parents had kicked him out due to some reason. He hadn't come out to them at that moment. For some reason, Blaine had sympathized with him and offered him to stay at Dalton. After a while, Andy had him sworn under his name so that everyone else will leave him alone.

The moment he had entered the Dalton crowed, he had fallen for Jeff Sterling, the blonde joker and charmer, and fallen hard. But Jeff was straight and prone to making fun of people, without realizing how much he hurt them with his words.

Nick had come out to his Warbler friends after a few heavy drinks of beer and a rowdy night out on their usual hunts. The warblers had initially reacted with shock and silence—especially Blaine who looked as if somebody had knocked him down—but then accepted him without protest. They had even tried to make him comfortable by trying to introduce him to some lesbian girlfriends they had. To talk and adjust. He was grateful to be a part of their family. His life was much easier now.

Jeff had, surprisingly, became one of his close friends. They even shared a room in Dalton. But Jeff had a way of getting flirty at inappropriate times, teasing Nick about his sexuality and trying to make remarks that made Nick uncomfortable. Jeff didn't know what Nick's true feelings for him were.

If only he knew, Nick thought. If only he knew how much I want him to be like me. But to Jeff, it was all fun and games. It hurt Nick more than he could explain.

So they stood guard silently. Nick tried to control his emotions and violent urges to throw himself off the roof or in Jeff's arms. Jeff tried to make amends. He knew he had hurt Nick but he didn't know how to undo his stupidity.

In the end, he just said, "Hey, Nick? You know that I love you anyway. No matter if you don't like me."

Nick sucked in a deep breath and smiled slightly. "Yes, I don't like you. Because you are an asshole. But, thanks."

Jeff, thinking that he won, silently cheered, mock punching Nick and gazing across the street.

If only he knew, Nick thought again and stayed silent.


They abandoned their post as the first rays of sun hit them. They walked/ran toward the Hill in empty early morning streets.

Just as they reached town square, the door of a private bar banged open and a group of really drunk teenagers came out. On instinct, Jeff and Nick hid behind a parked car. Another look confirmed the identity of the teenagers.

Santana, Quinn, Brittney, Azimio, Sebastian and Jesse St. James. They were completely drunk and wobbly, laughing raucously and heading toward their expensive cars.

Jeff looked at Nick meaningfully, fishing in his jeans pocket for something. But Nick shook his head furiously.

"We weren't ordered to do any of that!" he hissed.

"But they are vulnerable," said Jeff resolutely. "We can take them!"

"And tell Blaine what? What do you think Andy will do when he finds out?"

Jeff had to admit that Nick had a point. So he kept himself controlled. They waited till the Trinity girls and the teens drove away in their cars.

"I wish they'll get crashed driving on their drunken asses," Jeff muttered hopefully.

"Knowing our luck, it'll never happen."

"Sour puss."

"Shut up, Jeff."

They made their way around the marked tracts that led up the hill. Blaine had chosen another, slightly secluded part for them to climb uphill so that they could escape notice. From this side, only the industrial part of town was visible. The trees grew wild and the roads were mostly deserted except for the workers and industry busses.

They emerged on top of the hill behind the Dalton house. Jeff fingered open the crisscrossing fenced gate and swung it open. The creaking sound echoed throughout the back yard. A few moments later, a person appeared on the roof, peering down at them.

"You saw them?" asked Thad without preamble.

"Yes, the drunken bullheads," Jeff said offhandedly. "Anyone up?"

"Wes, maybe. It was his turn to make breakfast, right?" Nick made a guess. "Are you guys coming down, yet?"

Thad shrugged. "Get Blaine up. We'll be there."

Inside the Dalton house, the rich wooden texture and elegant furniture was slightly aged and dirty with use. But it was the most beautiful and elegant house in the entire Hilltown. And for its residents, it was nothing short of heaven.

Nick ran up the spiraling staircase, the sunlight pouring in from the huge, round skylight overhead. He ran through hallways, not being silent, and stopped in front of Blaine's room.

"Blaine!" Knock. Knock. Knock. "Get your ass up. Rise and Shine!"

His voice carried through the hallways, for sole purpose that everybody hears it. A few moments later, a very agitated looking Blaine threw open the door.

"You're back," he nearly barked in irritation, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

"And Wes better be making something by now," Mick replied. "I'm starving!"

As he made his way down the hallway, a few more doors opened and the rest of the residents of Dalton house started to appear. "Morning everyone," said Nick as he saw them. "Another day has dawned and we are free for the weekend!"

There were sleepy Good Morning all round and the boys started to get dressed, showered and fresh.

Andy opened his door too and peered at the rising boys. "Good morning, Nick. How did it go?"

"Great. But please make sure Jeff and I don't have to go together again."

"He was being shitty again, wasn't he?"

"Yes, exactly."

"I'll keep that in mind."

In the next half an hour, the whole Dalton house was full of life. The Warblers were crowding the kitchen, sitting on the dining table and bar stools. Wes was busy making a huge stack of pancakes and Trent was filling mugs with coffee and handing them around to everyone.

The Warblers chatted amongst themselves or as was tradition, hummed or murmured the lines from "New Morning" around the table. Before long they were busy eating and comparing notes.

"All right, what's our status?" asked Blaine, assuming his leadership as he ate his caramel dipped pancake.

"Clear," said Jeff, stuffing his face. "Hummelsoodow."

"What?"

"He means, Hummels are good for now," translated Nick, rolling his eyes at Jeff fondly. "And we didn't see any of the enemy watchers around his house so that's good news."

"But we did see them last night and then this morning," said Kevin. "They went to Scandals and got drunk the whole night. They got out just as Nick and Jeff came back."

"We had clear sight of them," Jeff asserted, pausing his eating. "We could've taken them."

"No," Andy said sharply. "We can't touch them directly, don't you know that?"

Jeff looked pissed but said nothing else.

"As long as they are within rules," Blaine said placidly, "we can't touch them. But if they tired anything with the new kid, we can take them. But not now."

"Which reminds me," said David wisely. "We are supposed to meet Puck in the fields today. He is initiating the new kid in his farmers, I think. And he had to tell us something too."

Blaine looked thoughtful for a moment. "Okay. You and I will go to meet them before sunset."

Andy let the Warblers decide their course of actions for the rest of the day. He got up and bade them farewell. "There are going to be some pissed customers today, so I better get going. Call me in if something happens."

Andy rumpled Blaine's unruly curls, and planted a kiss on Cooper's cheek, who was his youngest son and the youngest of the Warblers, on his way out.

Blaine spent the rest of the day with usual tasks. Appoint new duties for Warblers. Drop Cooper off to middle school. Get Trent and Greg to visit Millie Rose down in the Tavern to deliver flour. Round up the Warblers again for three hours of lessons in library. Then spend some time in his room to revise the melodies and notes he had thought up of previously. Practice his martial arts in the gym with the others. Pick up Cooper from school. Then sleep a few hours more.

By the time the evening came, David and Blaine walked down the hill side through the marked tracts. They went to the shed at the foot of the hill and got inside their pick-up truck. By any luck, they will have made some progress with Puck and the new Hummel when they returned for their dinner.
~~

Finn gives me an extremely awful shirt this morning. He explained in his broken words that the work in fields gets dirty and he wouldn't want my clothes to suffer.

In the house I still wore my own clothes. I still took care of my hair. Carole almost treated me as she would a daughter, delighted whenever I asked her opinions about color matching etc. My guess was that Burt had fessed up about my sexuality, and from her cheerful behavior, I think she doesn't hate me either.

I have no idea if Finn knows but he has been rather cross-eyed at my double personality for a while. I could almost hear the gears clicking in that head of his whenever he saw me rush upstairs and come down looking like a supermodel. If he thinks or suspects something, he hasn't mentioned it. But he was being careful with me too, and his gesture of the awful-shirt was almost sweet in the strange Finn-way.

We say our goodbyes to Burt and Carole. Finn and I wait in the front porch. Puck shows up in his second-hand convertible, blaring the woofers with some rap-song.

"Get in, ladies," he swags. "We are gonna have one sweaty start of barley plantation today."

Wow. Plantation. I officially step into middle-age as I sit in the backseat.

"I don't know anything about the plantation, Puck," I confess at once. I obviously thought they would gag and tell me to run off. But I thought wrong.

"Nobody does, man," he says, putting the car in the fastest gear and burning rubber as we go off. "But I'll teach you, no probs."

Great. There's no way out.

I sit silently as we make our way out of the town square and toward the check post where the very-alert guards stand. Finn and Puck keep up constant chatter, throwing some field related words here and there, but ignore me.

"I suddenly remember why I was angry at Puck. "Hey, Puck, why are you setting tails on me?"

"I don't get you man?" he says, looking at me in the rearview mirror.

"Why were your 'security guards' outside my house this night?" I make air quotes.

Puck honest to God frowns. "What guards?"

"The ones that stood watch all night—poor souls—because you must have told them! They were out there, on the roof of the house in front of us. And it was cold in night, if you didn't know."

Puck says nothing. He doesn't deny, which tells me he knew about it in some way. When he still doesn't say anything, I shake my head in shock. Well, if that's what he wants, he can do it. And besides, I will complain to Burt about those poor kids and he will surely do something about it.

But Puck remains silent and thoughtful the rest of the way. He even whisper talks with Finn. He says, "I thought they wouldn't do it."

"Good thing they are meeting you today," Finn whisper-talks back.

I just fume in the backseat because, obviously, none of it makes sense to me.

When we stop by the road beside a few other pick-ups and cars, I almost reel in confusion. This is really a farming town.

There are more cars around and the fields are busy with people tolling in the ground and, well, farming. Puck and Finn greet a lot of people by name and walk into the small tracks that connect fields with each other. I follow dumbly, staring at the world around me.

Then I spot a few familiar faces and—bodies.

Sam, Rider, Jake, and Joe are shirtless and covered in sweat. They all have picks and spades in their hands and they seem busy. They look at us when we come and cheer in happiness.

"About time, we thought we were gonna work here alone today," said Jake.

"As if I'd do that my people," says Puck. There is almost a possessive and tender tone to his voice as he says that. He really does take care of his people.

From the far side of this field, Rory and Mike run toward us. Mike is also shirtless but Rory wears a tank-top that's soaked in sweat.

"Where is you wife, Mike?" asks Jake at once. "We are falling dead here."

"She called that she'd be late," says Mike. Then seeing my confused expression, he explains, "Tina and Marley are on duty to refresh us with food and stuff. They are supposed to be here now, but today there was some work at the Tavern."

"The Garglers were supposed to deliver flour to Rosa, right?" Puck asks, boss like.

"That's what Tina said was taking so long," confirms Mike.

"Good. They are supposed to meet me," says Puck, checking his watch. "This evening. Now let's get you sorted, Kurt."

Jake produces a pitchfork from somewhere and hands it to me. Rory calls me closer and says, "You and I can team up, buddy."

"Now start taking out your fury on that dry patch of land till it's all wet and tender," says Puck, a glint in his eyes. "You may begin, Kurt. You are now one of the Puckpeople."

"That's it?"

"That's it," he confirms.

Now Finn comes forward and says to me, "Good Luck, Kurt. I'll come back when you guys are done. I'm kinda late for the Station anyways." He slaps my shoulder with some affection (ouch) and walks away.

Puck starts giving orders to some of the other young people I haven't met. He takes charge for a short time, examining the work of everyone and then sheds his shirt too, and joins us.

I follow Rory's lead in silence. Rory gives me pointers to use my legs as leverage to upend the earth. I do as he says. At first, I tire easily, my body soaks in sweat rapidly. But then I get the knack of it and my arms start working autopilot. It calms me, amazingly, and I let my thoughts wander.

Before long, I shed my shirt too till I am in my tank-top. I realize that the boys had done it out of heat and necessity, and not because they wanted to make me uncomfortable as I had previously imagined. And I establish a silent bond with earth and the people around me. We sometimes pause and look around, examine the hard work of others. We sometimes catch each other's eyes and smile encouragingly, or ask silently if anyone needs rest or help.

I have only one moment of weakness when the heat got too much for me and my eyes stopped seeing. I reeled on the spot and Mike ran up to steady me. He took me under a shade of tree wordlessly, and gave me a bottle of chilled water to drink. I drank and came to, and they let me sit a while. Then I started working again.

This companionship and bond between us all was overwhelming to me. I nearly tear up when they treat me as one of their own, calling me over when Tina and Marley finally arrive with refreshments.

Tina (who is Mike's wife) and Marley (Millie Rose, Tavern's chef's daughter) are here to give us a bit of heaven. And by us, I mean, all the farmers of Hilltown. Everyone from every field comes over to their truck and the girls give us Styrofoam lunchboxes and Coca-Colas and Beers. A few lucky ones get their hands on two boxes but nobody minds. We sit down in groups under the shadows of trees and some even in their cars, cranking up the AC for a while.

This feels beautiful. Ryder and Jake joke around constantly, teasing Mike about his wife. Tina is pregnant, from what I gather. And Mike is nothing short of blissful. He blushes a while and then tell the two jokers off. Sam and Rory pay attention to their food, smiling over at the three boys.

Some distance away, Puck sits on the hood of a car, eating his burger and surveying the land with the eye of an emperor. There is a smile on his face that makes me conjecture at his standing in these people. Clearly they love him, mohawk or no. But I wonder what earned him this level of respect and love from almost all of these people, that is almost the entire town.

After an hour, when finally everyone is well fed, we take up the work again. Tina and Marley leave the cases of Beers and Cokes near a car and drive away between the chorus of many Thank Yous and Love Yous and It Was Delicious etc.

Puck announces that the fields looked good and required another upending before they were good for sowing. The farmers cheer because this was really a good day's work. And then they work extra hard to get it done sooner.

"When do we go home?" I inquire Jake who has partnered with me this time.

"Before sunset. Puck usually let us off before that but today it has been great. He wants to get more work done."

"It's amazing how much you people care for this stuff," I remark. "In California nobody was that into farming."

"You aren't in California now, Kurt," says Jake, there is bitter note to his voice. "We have to produce crops because we have to pay our dues to Mayor and we have to get money to pay bills and taxes. This isn't just work and fun for us. This is our food, money and blood. Land is everything for us and we love it so it loves us back."

Unconsciously, as if he had done it more than he could recall, he looks up at the sky. I follow his lead. Hilltown's sky remains, to this day, cloudy as ever. But the heat persists and clearly the rain was never going to fall. I realize why Jake looked up. Even if we work our asses off on this land, it would be useless if it doesn't rain soon. And if what Jake has told me is true, these people would have nothing left without rain.

I resume the work, pouring my hopes into the land I was tending.
~~

Blaine and David reached the fields well before the sun went down. Some of the farmers had already left but he knew that Puck would be here as he'd promised.

They walked toward the three fields that Puck's grandfather, Old Riley, owned. Puck stood near Sam and Joe, looking over at a few of his boys who were finishing up the work. They made their way towards him.

"Puckerman," Blaine said in a way of greeting.

"Anderson," said Puck, looking at them with a tight smile. "Good of you to come on such short notice."

"What do you want?" Blaine asked, cutting to the chase.

Blaine wasn't a hater of Puckermans, not really. He admired the way this town treated these men. They worked hard for the good of everybody. What he disliked was the fact that Puck never extended the same kind of respect toward him and his Warblers. Because what they did was also for the good of town's people, even if their methods were a bit bloody.

"I was informed that you have taken charge of keeping Hummels place secure," said Puck. "Thank you for that. I can only spare so many boys and keep the crops in order at the same time. It was nice of you, really."

"You called us here to thank us?" Blaine asked, sounding surprised. Because a Thank You from Puckerman would amount to an I Love You, in his opinion.

"I did," said Puck sincerely. "We don't know what Kurt is capable of yet. We intend to find out. But the priority is to keep him safe for now. Smyth already has tried to make a move on him."

Kurt, Blaine thought, must be the new Hummel kid. "He has?"

"Yes, he got in our school this Friday," said Sam. "I am amazed Kurt didn't break his wrist."

"He's stronger than he looks," Joe muttered warmly.

With Puck's permission, Sam recounted the whole event of last Friday in school. Blaine frowned, feeling worried. If this Kurt was as talented as his father and Burt suspected, it would be a folly to let Smyth try anything again. They would have to do something about this, and soon.

"Well, that's a cause of worry," remarked Blaine when Sam said his piece. "What do you suggest we do now?"

Puck looked at Sam and grimaced uncomfortably. This wasn't their desire but they had no other plans than this.

"I know Burt hasn't answered you satisfactorily, yet," said Puck slowly. "And I know why Anderson wants to ally with Hummels. But, I propose, for Kurt's safety, to form a temporary alliance with the Garglers."

"Warblers," Blaine corrected automatically.

The alliance with Puck, connected as he was, could be of great use. He could think of endless possibilities and freedom that would allow him and the Warblers to go about town and places that weren't welcoming to them before. He knew his father would trust his judgment and accept whatever he decided. His Warblers, he was sure, would follow his lead to death. So he did what was obvious.

"All right. We can ally. But how temporarily?"

Puck pursed his lips and looked back at the working boys. "Till he knows what's going on. Till we know what he is capable of doing."

"That makes sense," said Blaine, feeling that the meeting was drawing to a close. "If that's all..."

"No, wait," said Joe. "You should meet Kurt. He should know you and your a team if we are to ally."

"That makes sense, too," remarked David.

Puck then called aloud, "Kurt! Can you c'mere a moment!"

As Blaine watched, a boy stood up straight, letting his spade fall to the ground in his feet. He was tall and the only word Blaine could think of to describe him—beautiful.

His jeans, that were dirty and faded, hugged his waist snugly and hung a bit low, showing a strip of smooth, pale stomach as he walked. The white tank top he wore was drenched in sweat and muck, hugging the contours of his torso with sculpted care. His brown hair, which must have been previously well kept, were ruffled due to warm wind and disturbed as if he had run his hand through them a lot. Sweat ran in rivulets along his—luscious, Blaine thought—neck.

Then there was his face. The pale face that looked curious and a bit puzzled as he walked toward them. And those lips, that were red and full and admirably shaped. And his nose, a bit up tilted, was perfect. But it was his eyes that held Blaine's gaze. He couldn't just put a name to his eyes. Green? Blue? No, wait a minute; they were Grey a moment ago!

Kurt walked toward them, looking at the two new boys in turn. His gaze fell on the shorter one and he frowned. Have he seen this boy before? As he went closer, he realized that yes, he had. This was one of those late night visitors. The boy with curly hair.

"Yes?" he asked Puck as he stopped in front of them.

Blaine nearly gasped. Even his voice was mesmerizing, and that's only when he sounded confused.

"Kurt this is Blaine Anderson and David," Puck introduced. "They live at Dalton House; maybe Burt would have mentioned it."

Recognition shone in Kurt's eyes. "Oh, the house on the hill! Yes, I have seen it. So you live there?"

Blaine faltered. Kurt was addressing them directly and he suddenly had no words. "Yes," he managed.

"They just wanted to say hi," said Puck. "They may be coming down to work with us sometimes. So I thought you should meet them."

"It's nice to meet you," said Kurt modestly. Then he held out his hand.

Blaine took his hand and marveled at how soft it was. Then he remembered that Kurt was holding a spade a moment ago. He silently cursed Puck to let him work like this. It would get his hands hard in no time.

Then Blaine mentally shook himself. What was wrong with him! Why was he acting like Nick! He let go of Kurt's hand as if it had jolted him.

Mystification flickered in Kurt's eyes a moment, but then it cleared away. "Well, that is, Puck?"

"Yes, that's it! In fact, call the others; we should wrap this up anyways."

Kurt looked at Blaine and David one last time and walked away to call his friends.

Blaine watched him all the while. He was still confused at his feelings and the way his breath hitched when Kurt had talked to him directly. He just had a rough day, maybe. He will be fine when the novelty of Kurt and his "gorgeousness" wore off.

He was so immersed in his thoughts and Kurt that he missed half of what Sam was saying.

"...to make the alliance official. It would be like a celebration. What do you think?"

"Huh? Sorry, I didn't..."

Sam gave him a funny look. "I said that you guys can join us for the dinner at Tavern. We are headed that way."

David raised his eye brow at him. Blaine wet his lips and said, "Are you sure?"

"Yes. It would give us a chance to learn more about you," said Puck. "And about how you work and how we work. Think of it as preliminary dinner, or something."

"Well, then, yes," said Blaine, smiling dazzlingly. "We shall most certainly join you."

Of their own accord, his eyes fell on Kurt as he came back toward them with others. Yes, Blaine thought, he would love to join them.