~ CHAPTER 8 ~
Heartbeat


It had been hard. Telling the Warblers. They'd all shook the whole house with their cries when Nick and Thad had finally managed to choke out the news. Cooper had run away to lock himself in his room. Blaine had stayed a whole hour outside his door, begging him to come out.

Now he was in the main hall. His brothers all formed a tight circle around him, clutching each other, staring in the distance. They'd talked away for some time. Thought up of what to do now. Jeff and Wes has raged tearfully to avenge Andy's death by carrying out a coup, thus ridding Hilltown of the Smyths once and for all.

The Warblers had responded to that but Blaine had refuted the point. He had to explain again the importance of keeping control. He explained again about Santana's warning and the part Kurt could possibly play in their salvation. They had calmed down after that and lapsed into total, gloomy silence.

Blaine stirred now. "We need to rest. Everyone to bed. No need to keep watch. I'll lock up. I don't think that vampires are gonna try anything today. It's going to be sunny outside soon. Which means we'll sleep in peace."

The boys dragged themselves up and away. The Warblers who had rested last night went to the library for some reading distraction. The ones who had slept fitfully or the ones who went on Hunt went straight to bed.

Blaine had stayed in the living room for a long time after that. Then he suddenly sighed and said, "You can come out now."

From behind one of the sofas, Cooper peeked his head out. Seeing that Blaine was alone, Cooper made his way to his brother. He hesitated a second before throwing himself in Blaine's arm. He didn't cry, he'd done a lot of that in his room. Besides, Cooper was tougher than he looked. He was being brave for Blaine's sake. And Blaine knew that.

"What are you gonna do now, Blainey?" asked Cooper finally. "What are WE gonna do?"

"What we always do, Coop. We'll survive this. Somehow. I don't know what we can possibly do besides that. We'll just have to be brave."

They tumbled in silence again. Then Cooper said with a tremble to his voice, "I miss him."

Blaine tightened his arms around his brother. "I miss him too...but...we'll carry on what he started. We'll get the store running. We'll keep the town safe."

"I'll help too."

"I know you will, Coop."

Cooper fell asleep in Blaine's arms like that. Blaine scooped him up and went upstairs to put him in bed. When he finally went to his own room, Blaine broke down completely. His legs gave out form under him and his whole body shook with silent sobs.

He had no idea how he was going to take care of the Warblers now. He had no idea if he could keep the town safe! He had no idea how to go on now that he had no father figure to look up to. How could he survive? How was it even possible...?

As he lay on the floor, crying silently, he realized what a selfish bastard he was! To think he was the only one who'd lost a parent? What about all the other people who lose a family member to vampires everyday? What about Kurt...? He'd lost his father a month ago and he was braver than Blaine had ever guessed him to be!

Before he even realized what he was doing, Blaine doused his head under water, rubbing away the muck and not bothering with the gel. When he felt lighter and cleaner he started to change into cleaner clothes. He wore a light tank top and threw on a navy blue button-down shirt. He pulled on a pair of light blue trousers.

Then arming himself with a ankle knife only, he toured the whole house. He locked up as he'd promised his boys, then he snuck out of the house and locked the door behind him. The last faint drops of rain were falling. From his high perceptive from the hill, Blaine saw the far way parting of clouds in the sky, and blue strip of pure heaven.

He jogged down the hill, hailing a few people, who were unsuspecting of night's event still and going about their day with vigor, as he passed by them. He jogged toward the suburbs and found himself outside Hummels street.

He hesitated a while outside the Hummel house. Was it even rational to come here? What was he even thinking? Why would Kurt even want to help him figure out what to do when you lose a father?

But too late. His body was moving before he could even command it. He checked his watch and it said 8:30. He was certain the Kurt must be sleeping by now. Or what if he was still with Mercedes? He'd seen him go there when he reached Dalton House with his boys.

Only one way to find out. He started climbing the tree near Kurt's window and then jumped on the eaves as came level with it. He grabbed on for dear life and pried the window open. Then he slipped inside soundlessly.
~~~


Burt was right. Sleep will help me much more than anything. I think back on the last time I had slept...after my drinking stunt at the Rain Celebrations. That hadn't been peaceful. Nightmares had plagued me of Karofsky attacking me again and again. In fact, now they will be worse. Because now I knew who the monsters were.

I take a shower first. I smell like mud and blood and dirty rags. And my poor skin is itching in various places. Then I pull on a soft t-shirt that's too short on me now, but who cares, I'm going to sleep anyways. And a pair of pajama bottoms.

I just apply a single lotion over my visible skin, too tired to go through the whole process and crawl inside my bed. A groan escapes me when I lie flat finally. My body is aching in several places. My bruised jaw, head and knee where I had fallen after Mr Jones pushed me are throbbing. Great. How am I supposed to sleep with so much pain? And possible nightmares.

I roll on to my stomach and burry my head under the pillow, trying to block out thoughts. But they don't go away. I think of Mercedes. Poor, poor girl. She was so heartbroken. And I think of Blaine. Of the way he'd looked so empty and dead when he had left us this morning. I wanted to reach out to him, to touch him, to tell him that this, too, shall end. But in front of everyone, that wouldn't have been wise.

Then I hear the scraping sounds. I jump up into sitting position in my bed and look around. I hear my window open. And I see a shadow trying to climb in.

It takes everything in me to not go into overdrive and start screaming like a girl. And then the shadow is inside my room. And even before he turns, I know who it is.

Blaine gasps slightly when he sees that I'm awake and staring, with my mouth hanging open, at him. He looks flustered and agitated. Suitably so, considering what he must be going through.

"Hey," he says at last.

OK. "Hey," I say also.

"I didn't...I thought you must be sleeping and..."

"And what?" I try to joke and make him at ease. "Then you would have stared at me like a creep while I slept away?"

He suddenly looks away, as if he can't bear to look at me anymore. "No I just...I thought..."

I look at him closely. His clothes are a bit damp by the sprinkle of rain. His hair is wet too, but clear of all the vestiges of hair gel. I can spot the curls beginning to appear even as his hair are starting to dry. There's a fine line of goose bumps on his arms visible through half pushed-up sleeves.

I've never seen him like this before. He looks so—pathetic, yes, that. But not just pathetic, he looks as if he doesn't know what to do anymore. Which is the worse look ever.

I get out of bed and stand in front of him. "Blaine...it's OK. You can tell me whatever it is." I take a leap of faith and boldly garb his hands in mine, half expecting him to push me away.

But he doesn't.

He instead closes the distance between us and buries his face in my neck, sobs breaking out of his chest. I tighten my arms around him, finally understanding what he was trying to say. He needs someone to hold him. Someone who understood what he was going through.

He needs me.

A thrill goes down my spine at the thought. But I push away my flimsy corporal thought. I simply hold him. When I can't stand with him leaning all over me, I stumble backward until we both flop down on my bed. I gasp as our bodies come flush together.

I wait breathlessly for him to feel disgusted and shy away. But he surprises me again. He shakes out of his boots and yanks me with him, up the bed till we are lying side by side. I don't even have time to gasp or squeak in surprise. Seriously, his Warbler speed and tactics were kinda scary. And thrilling.

I shiver at the thought of us both in bed. My bed! But also due to the wetness that clutched Blaine's shirt, soaking into me.

He notices me shiver, and then sits up a bit and starts opening his buttons. I try to look away because—Holy God!—he's taking his shirt off. In my bed! But I can't. He throws the shirt blindly behind him and lies down again. He's wearing a tank top beneath. The goose bumps travel all along his arms and even the spare bit of hair on his chest are raised. He must be cold.

I yank my gaze away form his body and meet his look.

He is looking at me with his wet eyes, a silent plea in his gaze. This is the first time I'm seeing him up close. His jaw is sprinkled with the one day old stubble. The curve of his lips and mouth is so, so delicious that I uncannily lick my lips. Then I realize I'd been staring at his lips and look up in his eyes in embarrassment, my skin flushing red. He doesn't look bothered. He is studying my face too with so much intensity in his gaze that I go red again.

"Kurt..." he whispers and his breath ghosts over my face.

"Y-yes?"

"May I...may I hug you again?"

I can't speak. Hugging him while standing up was sorta appropriate. But while we were in bed like this...?

I just nod.

Once again he surges forward and closes the distance between us. His whole body curls up against mine, his face presses into my neck again, and he inhales deeply and I feel his shoulder relax at the contact. He shivers slightly as our bare arms rub against each other, mine warm, his cold. But the opposing sensation isn't the only thing I feel. This is the first time I was bodily touching Blaine. And it is much, much more awesome than I'd ever imagined.

Hesitatingly, I put my arms around him again; half scared that he'd yell at me. But he doesn't. Of course, he doesn't!

To me this meant something else. A boy (on whom I have a huge crush) was hugging me. The gay-me. This meant to me a whole lot more than words could tell.

To him, it was just a hug. From a friend. Who was also orphan. That's that. To him it was nothing more.

The thought saddens me, and I close my eyes. I resign myself to enjoy this closeness while it lasted. Because that's as good as it is going to get for me. No way is it ever gonna happen, that Blaine Anderson would feel anything for me. No way will he ever blush at a slight touch from me. He'll never dream about me. He'll never crave my touch. In short, he'll never feel all the things I felt for him.

He'll never love me as much as I...

My eyes fly wide open. Did I just think that? That I—that I LOVE him? No. No, that's insane! I knew so little about him. And he can't be gay anyway. Falling for him was the worst thing I could've done, including all my poor crushes back in middle school!

But I feel tears forming up in my eyes all the same. There's no denying it anymore.

As I feel him here, with me, so close. His warmth enveloping me like a blanket. His face against my neck, his warm breaths against my skin. His strong arms around me. His legs almost tangled with mine. His strong, steady heartbeat against my chest. As real as he is to me right now, as real as the sky is, I knew.

I was in love with Blaine Anderson.

And he was never gonna be in love with me.
~~~


Blaine woke up quiet well rested much to his astonishment. In the deep recesses of his mind he remembered the events of last night vividly. So it was a shocker for him to wake up so warm, calm and rested. He'd been sure he wouldn't be able to feel peaceful for years to come, at least.

But here he was...calm as he ever could be.

Then he realized that he wasn't in his own room. That there was a warm body pressed against his own. And with a jolt, the memories of this morning, when he'd walked/jogged here to Kurt's house, into Kurt's room, came rushing back in his mind.

With a strange feeling of dread—and intensity—he turned his head slightly and found himself face to face, inches apart, from Kurt. He didn't know what he was supposed to expect. Or do. But it most certainly wasn't what he was feeling right now.

Kurt looked so pure and peaceful sleeping this way. His red lips parted slightly, warm breath escaping his mouth and ghosting over Blaine. Kurt's eyelashes made brown, feather-brushed crescents over his pale cheeks. His hair rumpled up so adorably that Blaine unexpectedly smiled.

Blaine moved even closer to the sleeping boy. Till their noses rubbed in gentle Eskimo kisses. He inhaled and smiled again. He loved the smell of Kurt. The faint citrus of Kurt's soap, the sweet scent of his moisturizer, and underneath it all, the musky, warm scent of Kurt himself.

Blaine placed his hand, as discreetly as possible, on Kurt's chest. He realized he loved the sound of Kurt's heartbeat too. In fact, he'd be surprised if that wasn't the reason why he fell asleep so peacefully. Because Kurt's heartbeat lulled him to sleep.

The light blue bruise on Kurt's jaw and a slight whip of a scar on his check was the only flaws Blaine saw. And he had to control the sudden anger these scars ignited within him. With a measured hand, he grasped Kurt's left upper leg and watched in suppressed worry as Kurt whimpered in his sleep. Blaine had noticed when he entered the room, how awkwardly Kurt was bending his leg—and how clumsily he had stood up when he talked to Blaine. He also knew that was why Kurt had tumbled down on the bed, because his leg had been hurt. Now Blaine knew it was more than just hurt. He knew there might be another purple scar on Kurt's leg. The thought angered him more.

Kurt stirred slightly in that moment, and encircled his arms around Blaine, pulling him closer in half-hug, like hugging a teddy bear. Blaine smiled again. He had no objections. In fact, he'd never felt more at home, or more alive.

Without any conscious thought or warning, Blaine's mind started up the usual ritual whenever he thought about Kurt. That melody, the one that teased him in his most precious dreams...dreams of a pale beautiful boy, dreams of green-blue eyes...that melody started up again. But this time, it was stronger than ever before.

If Blaine had denied to himself the inspiration before, he couldn't do it any longer. It was Kurt. He was the reason. He was the melody in Blaine's heart. And now, while he was so close, Blaine could hear the melody clearly as if someone was writing it down for him.

He softly began to murmur, and hum. Careful not to wake up Kurt. But all the same, the pale boy smiled faintly in his sleep, as if he could hear the melody in his dreams too.

Slowly, the melody began to from words—words that Blaine never dreamed to utter to anyone in his life. But here it was. The moment of clarity. There was no more confusion now. He knew finally.

Blaine had never dreamed of having a relationship or a family. Ever. With what his job entitled, even considering such a thing was a folly. At most, he'd thought, if he ever got married it would be to extend his family roots, or to make sure that Warblers thrived for years to come. But never had he imagined such a thing as 'being in love.'

And sexuality hadn't been a problem for him either. He was, after all, a Warbler. His whole life had been devoted to slaying the Vampires who terrorized the townspeople. He never had a chance to date any girl. To explore the possibility of what his sexual preference was. Although, he had been attracted to many people over the course of his life. PEOPLE. Not just girls. He remembered being attracted to Puck back when he was still a junior in McKinley. But that had lasted for a day. He remembered being attracted to Jesse St James, even Sebastian before he'd realized what he actually was—that had been years ago, he wasn't even eight at that time. But he also had been attracted to Quinn Fabray back when she was still human and a Church going girl. Santana Lopez had haunted many of his guilty dreams.

But all that had passed. Like a fad. It had all been inessential.

He wasn't so sure now. What he felt for this boy before him, it was beyond anything he'd felt for any of the people he had been attracted to. He'd ignored the pull, the magnetic force with which he was attracted toward Kurt the first time they met. He'd thought it would fade with time. But it hadn't.

Over the passage of time, it had become stronger. So, so strong that he could tell, without looking where Kurt was in the room. When he entered a place or when he was anywhere near him. At first Blaine had blamed it on his Warbler training. But then he'd started noticing how Kurt's face lit up when he was truly happy, or how it remained wary when he was faking happiness. How Kurt's eyes expressed his emotions better than his words. How Kurt got passionate and determined to such an extreme level all of a sudden that he took Blaine's breath away every time. That can't be just training, can it? And not to mention, he knew the way Kurt smelled, the way his body felt pressed against him, the way his lips were so, so soft like petals...

No, these weren't normal feelings to have.

As the melody in his mind became complete, became a song, Blaine realized something he'd been trying to disregard for days.

He was in love with Kurt Hummel.
~~~


Jeff didn't go to sleep. Not when Nick left him like this. Not when he finally knew what Nick was going through.

"He loves me," Jeff whispered in awe to the silent night.

He had said this to himself over and over again since Nick left. He'd waited for the shock, or disgust, to settle in. But none of it had happened.

Instead, every time he said these words, a tug went up in his heart. Like someone was tying it into knots. The painful feeling wasn't devoid of thrill and a wave of pleasure behind it. He felt dizzy. Giddy. Each time he uttered those words the pleasure/pain was more intense.

What could it mean? Was Jeff in love with Nick too?

"He loves me."

Jeff gasp at the sensation these words caused in his entire body. He threw himself in bed and stared at the ceiling. Lost in the majestic world of feelings and thoughts. When he closed his eyes, he saw Nick's smiling face, Nick's bashful laughter, the blush that sometime adorned Nick's face whenever Jeff teased him.

But then the night had come to an end. And the real life had interrupted.

Andy was gone. Forever. And Nick wouldn't even look at Jeff anymore. He pretended as if Jeff was all but invisible.

Jeff's heart had made a leap of joy when he finally saw them coming back today. But then he'd noticed how sad they looked. Then they had told them the horrifying news. And then he'd seen the way Nick ignored him.

For the first time he understood the phrase 'heart ache' because his heart felt as if it was shattering in his chest.

When all had been said and done, Jeff had followed Nick to their mutual bedroom. Nick still wouldn't look at him.

They just laid in bed.

What was going on? Jeff thought. Why am I feeling so wretched? What's wrong with me?

And then, with surprise, he understood something. Experimentally, he mouthed these words to himself. "I'm in love with him."

The same feeling of pain and ecstasy rippled through his body. A sob broke though him as he realized what that meant. It meant that Nick never would be alone again. It meant that he could now, finally, make Nick the happiest person in the world. It meant that he was in love.

He looked over at Nick's bed where he lay silently. He knew that Nick wasn't really sleeping. Who could when they were so miserable?

So Jeff silently made his way to Nick's bed. And then forcefully turned Nick over till he was facing him.

"Jeff...what are you doing?" Nick chided hoarsely.

"What I should've done a long time ago."

And Jeff leaned in and kissed Nick. Nick's whole body froze. His breaths stopped.

Jeff pulled back a little, looking in Nick's shocked and wondrous eyes. Then with careful slowness, he went in for another kiss.

This time, Nick inhaled sharply and kissed him back. Their mouth clashing with each other in a soft rhythm. Until they were no longer holding back. The heat built and after a while when they broke apart for air, they found themselves in a tangle on Nick's bed.

"Whoops," Jeff muttered.

A giggle escaped Nick at that. His eyes shone so brightly, half with happiness, half with tears. His face was flushed and Jeff had never seen him look so beautiful.

"I love you too, Nicky," Jeff whispered. "I have been for a while but—I was too stupid to realize what I was actually feeling."

Nick's eyes brimmed over again. "As I said before once—you're an asshole."

They kissed again. And again. And they ended up sleeping together in a tangled mess, both with smiles on the faces.
~~~


Quinn Fabray knew what she was doing was going to get her killed. Really and actually killed.

But she no longer cared. Her whole life she'd done as her father wanted. When Russell Fabray was turned into Vampire by Edward, her family had no choice but to automatically become Vampires as well. Because it was the only way they could co-exist. Because it was her father's decision.

She missed being human. She missed the warmth of skin. She missed the sunlight. Sometimes she missed it so much that she'd find herself near a door, or window, about to step outside in daytime, before stopping short. She missed having friends, she missed going to Church on Sundays.

But then Edward had solved all the problems by winning the elections. He'd made it so that Hilltown always remained under the cover of dense cloud. He had done it by the help of some witch in San Francisco. No matter how humid it grew inside the town, or how much the humans suffered, and how much they longed to see the sky—as long as the clouds remained, Vampires were allowed to be free.

She had enjoyed that freedom fully, at first. She had stayed outdoors three whole days. She had looked at everything in awe, how beautiful it appeared in daylight, how clearer due to her new Vampire vision. It had been like a dream.

But she still didn't have any friends. Her skin was still cold and she couldn't be near humans for long. Not without the need to tear them apart and gush in their warm blood.

Later when she'd been teamed up with Santana and Brittany, her life had become better. She had friends now. But then Edward had made them the Trinity. The punishers.

If she could sleep like she used to, she'd have nightmares. Even so, she remembered every "punishment" she'd ever carried out in the name of Edward's law and "justice". She remembered the harmless humans, pleading, explaining how desperate they were to break the law.

But Andy's death had been different. It had shaken her to the core. It had made her reprioritize her life. It had made her see reason. Edward's law wasn't "the law". It was tyranny under the stamp of official approval.

And she'd do anything she can to change it.

So that's how she ended up outside the infirmary in Smyth Mansion. She waited till the nurse was gone for her coffee break, and she snuck inside.

Jack Anderson was in a cot in the very corner of the small ward. She made her way toward him softly. He was almost changed. He was going to wake up soon. But he was not, as everyone else was, going to be one of Edward's servant. This time, Quinn was going to defy Edward all out. Because it was needed to be done.

The nurse came back inside and gasped as she found Quinn in her face.

"Oh, Miss Quinn!" she squeaked with a laugh. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry Dorothea, I was just visiting Anderson. He's mine."

"Oh, so you sired him!" Dorothea said with interest. "I think it was wise. He's a good man."

Quinn saw the hidden pain in Dorothea's eyes. The nurse was elderly, retired form Hilltown Memorial Hospital several years ago. Edward had forced her to work in the infirmary by having her son Changed and established in his personal guard. Poor woman had no option but to work for him now. She would be just as sad as everyone else at Anderson's death—Warbler reputation or no. Anderson had been a valuable citizen. A nice man on the hill who provided things.

"I can help him," Quinn said, trusting the nurse with a great risk to herself. "I can help everyone, if you'd let me."

Dorothea looked at her sharply. "How do you mean, Miss Fabray?"

Quinn leaned closer and whispered to Dorothea her plan. The old woman gasped and then smiled trough her tears.

"Good Lord, Miss Quinn! You'd do that? For us?"

"I have to. I can't let it go on any longer!"

"Then you must. Now." The old woman bustled toward the door. "I'll keep watch. Go on. Do it!"

Quinn smiled at her thankfully and went back to Anderson. He was stirring.

"Open your eyes, Andy," Quinn commanded softly.

His eyes, black eyes, snapped open. He focused on her face with a blank expression.

Quinn's eyes went black as well, as she stared into his eyes. "Say after me, Andy. You are my Master. I'm your servant."

With clear voice, Andy repeated, staring deeply into Quinn's eyes. "You are my Master. I'm you servant."

"I'll learn restraint and not kill needlessly. I'll do everything you tell me to. I'll pretend in front of Edward that he's my Master. But I'll serve you, and the people of Hilltown with all the cunning and power that I have."

Andy repeated it all.

Then Quinn looked away. Andy gasped as his eyes turned their former hazel color. He blinked several times and then looked at Quinn, puzzled.

"Am I dead?"

Quinn chuckled. "Sort of. Do you remember what we told you in the forest?"

It took him a moment to remember. His eyes went wide. "You gave me a choice. To live as one of you so that I can help...Blaine. Oh, my boy! What would he do to me when he find out I've become a monster!"

"Calm down, Andy! You are not a monster. I'll make sure that you never become one." Quinn looked back at where Dorothea was still standing guard. "Now we don't have much time. You remember what I said to you when you woke up?"

Andy frowned. "I'm gonna pretend in front of Edward."

"Yes. He'll be here shortly. Go back to sleep. And when he comes to you—do as I told you."

She turned to go but Andy called, "Quinn..."

"Yes?"

"My throat hurts. And I feel hungry."

She smiled. "You're craving blood. Don't worry as long as you keep to the supplies you won't kill anyone. I'll have Dorothea get some for you after Edward's gone."

Andy made a disgusted face. But he seemed assured too.

When she told Dorothea about the blood, the old woman surprised her with a hug.

"I knew you were kind, Quinn. I knew that the girl that I remembered from Sunday Church would be deep down in there somewhere. I'm proud of you."

Quinn eyes stung with tears. "Thanks, Dorothea. It means so much to me."

"Oh, and Quinn...can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Is it true, about that new kid? Is he really gonna be our savior?"

Quinn pursed her mouth in thought. "He's certainly different. But I can't be sure. Although, if Edward is so scared of him, it must mean something. Don't give up just yet."
~~~


Santana took off toward the forest after the confrontation with the humans. She needed to feed. And she could only feed from the humans who were not Sworn. And those were the Deserters. And they dwelled in the forest.

She was lost deep in thought. Thinking. About what Edward had said about the new kid. About what she's seen of Kurt so far. About her "talk" with him today.

She wondered if it had been a wise thing to do—telling them about Edward's plans. But then she remembered how Kurt had defended her when that mob of humans could've easily killed her. He'd defended her, and listened to her even though she was a killer.

And that's how she knew she'd made the right choice. She was going to give Sebastian an answer finally.

Speaking of, she might do it right now. As she could feel someone following her. She was certain it could only be him.

So she stopped in the middle of a trail, and turned around, waiting. He appeared cautiously at first, but then noticed that she was waiting. So he walked over with his proud gait, a smirk lighting up his face.

"Santana Lopez," he drawled. "Come to hunt after defying her Masters. How fickle."

"So you saw me?"

"With Hummel? Yes. And I saw that lovey-dovey deceleration you made for them. How do you know I won't tell Dad you have betrayed him so that he can change his plans?"

She smiled serenely. "Because I would tell him where you—and a large part of his guard—were last night. He was pissed, you see. He was furious that you weren't answering your phone. Just imagine, Seb? What would he be more furious at...My betrayal, or the betrayal of half of his guard and his own son?"

A growl ripped form Sebastian's throat. "You wouldn't dare."

"Which is why I want to give you a formal answer, if it wasn't clear by my betrayal?" She said with her signature smile. "I won't help you get Kurt. In fact, I'll see him trained and blossomed against Edward's pathetic rule. I'll make sure that Hilltown's government is ruined so that I and Brittany can leave in peace. So that everyone can be in peace."

"That's impossible to achieve and you know it!" he snapped. "Kurt alone can't help you in that."

"He can, I'm sure of it. And so I have a proposal for you."

Sebastian waited with a furious glare.

"Join me. Join me in bring down your father's rule and we both go free at the end of it." She held out her hand.

Sebastian glared at her, and her hand, for a long while. Then he smirked.

"I'm going to have to think about it. Then I'll give you my answer."

"Be sure it's the right one."

Sebastian came closer and looped his arm around hers, like a chaperon. "Let's hunt, shall we?"

She smiled. "We shall."

They found the man hiding under a roughly dug out cellar house. The only reason they located him so easily was that the recent rains have made his home watery and he was outside, busy drying his home.

He didn't even yell as Santana overpowered him with her gaze and mind, and started drinking his blood via small cut on his neck. When her hunger pains subsided a bit, she pulled away and slapped the man gently until he was conscious again.

"Now run along. Go back to your house cleaning," she murmured to him.

He glared at her blankly, before cursing her in harsh language. Then he got up and got busy in his work. Santana left him like that.

But then his scream sounded and she turned around in alarm. The man was in Sebastian's clutch as he drank nosily. Sebastian didn't even bother to overpower the man's mind, to make less the pain. He just drank, and drank.

Santana lunged at him and freed the man for Sebastian's cold grip. But it was too late. Life was ebbing away even as the man fell on the ground. She heard his heartbeat stutter to a stop.

She bit back an anguished yell and turned to Sebastian with rage in her heart.

"What kind of lowly monster are you?! You could've at least used mind control! He could've died in peace!" she yelled.

Sebastian smirked. "He was going to die anyway. Who cares. No one's going to miss him!"

I'm gonna miss him, she wanted to say. He always cursed me when I used to drink form him. He always went back to his work without fighting. He always kept the scar on his neck unhealed because he knew I would need to drink again. He was just that human, even when he knew he was letting a monster drink from him.

But she didn't say that. She looked away, wiping the tears from her eyes. She hadn't even known what was the man's name in all those times she drank form him. What a shame. What a waste.

"You are just as evil as your father. You have no heart."

And then she ran away from him. The rain was stopping. The sun will be out. She needed to be with Brittany.
~~~


I wake up suddenly, gasping as the images from my nightmares vanish and my own room comes into focus. It is just a dream, I tell myself. Sugar isn't mauling you right now!

And then I remember everything. I remember Mr Jones. And I bite back a whimper.

A finger brush the tear away from my face with a soft touch. I bite back another scream as I turn.

Warm, honey eyes envelope my whole vision. Blaine.

I remember how he came to be with me. And I blush. Great. Leave it to my fate that I break down due to a bad dream in front of Blaine. Awesome.

"Are you OK?" he asks me in a soft early-morning voice.

"I think so," I say. Then I mentally shake myself. He's the one who lost his father. I should be asking him that. "Are you OK? I mean—how are you feeling now?"

He gives me a sad smile. And God, from this close it's the most magnificent thing ever.

"I've been better. But I'll be fine." He looks away with a little color in his check. "I'm sorry about my breakdown this morning. I just didn't know who else to talk to...You were the only person I thought of and..."

I was the only person he thought of? That's...wow.

"It's OK. I understand. And it's no big deal. I won't tell anyone about your breakdown, I promise." Stop stammering Kurt, right now. Do you even hear yourself?

And we are still in my bed. Should I take away my arms? Should I move so that he can release me? I mean, we are fairly cuddling. Is he even noticing it? Can he even hear how fast my heart's beating? Or is it his heartbeat? There was no way to tell.

"What time is it?" I ask instead. Ten points to me for my steady voice.

He looks back at me and says, "I think its after 3 o' clock. After noon."

My eyes go wide. "Damn how long we slept?"

"Long enough."

Now would be the proper time to move away and get up. In fact, he should totally get out of my bed and put on his shirt. Because he's still in his tank top and—why the heck am I wearing my smallest t-shirt? I knew it wasn't a good idea, but see, laziness has gotten me into his awkward situation.

Awkward because our skins, or arms, are still touching and brushing as we breathe. Or in my case, pant.

"I think...I should get up," I say finally, because seriously, I don't want to. Who knows when I'll be able to feel Blaine this close to me again? "We have a funeral today so..."

He doesn't move away as I thought he would. His arms tighten just a teensy bit around me.

"I don't want to," he whispers as if confessing to an offense.

And now I actually look at him.

His beautiful eyes are wide, pupil blown wide. His lips are slightly parted. There's look of such an utter vulnerability on his face, in his yes that I fear for him. With a lot of patience, I touch his face with my fingers like he had. I see as he close his eyes at the touch, sighing at the contact.

"Blaine..." I say till he is looking at me again. "I know this is confusing to you. I know it is gonna be hard. It was for me as well. But, I got a family now. I have an Uncle who loves me even though I'm—" gay "—different. I have Finn. And Mercedes. And friends. And now," I show him the bandage on my arm, "now I'm Sworn."

He is listening to me with so much trust in his gaze that it takes everything in me not to kiss him right now.

"My point is..." minus five points because my voice breaks now, "I found a home even when I was sure I never would be able to go on without Dad. You are not alone, Blaine. You have Puckpeople. You have your Warbler brothers. You will have a family someday, a wife, kids," my voice cracks horribly at that one. "You have...me..."

Not that he cares. I mean, I'm nothing special, right?

"I do?" he says with a stunned expression.

"Yes. All of us are with you Blaine. You'll never be alone. I promise." I take his face in my hands now, because it feels OK to do that. "I will never ever let you be alone. I promise."

He blinks and tears fall from his eyes. "Promise?" he chokes out.

"Pinky promise." I hold out my pinky and he chokes again, with laugher.

I wipe his tears and smile again.

"Can I hug you again?" he asks me suddenly.

I bite my lips as I blush. "Of course, you can. You're my friend Blaine. You can, form now on, hug me whenever you like."

And he does. He hugs me tightly, burying his face in my shoulder again. I burry my nose in his curls, inhaling his scent. Pine, musk, earth, and warmth. We stay like this a while.

Then I feel a tensed sort of feeling in my stomach. At first I ignore them as nerves. But then the feeling grow so, so stronger that I feel like I'm on fire. Blaine's breathing becomes raggedy too. Like he's suffocating.

And then I understand with a shock what it was. And I try to inelegantly push Blaine away from me—before I embarrass myself epically.

His eyes are still wide and blown out, but as he hugs his arms close to his own body, scooting away from me a bit, I see another intense emotion on his face. Another inexplicable flick of his eyes.

So, if I ever had doubts before...I didn't have any now. I was definitely, absolutely, very much gay. And close to a ridiculous turn-on just because Blaine held me close. Shame.

"K-Kurt...?" he says but I don't look at him. How can I? What if he knows? What if he's disgusted by me?

"K-Kurt?" I feel his breath on my face.

I open my eyes and he's really close. Again I find myself slipping in the warm, welcoming olive-splashed-honey of his eyes. And then our noses brush. I'm not the only one panting now.

"Kurt..." this time his voice is urgent. Growly. Sexy. "Kiss me."

Just as I gasp at this demand, he surges forward and attacks my lips. I freeze for just a moment. And then its like the dam inside of me just bursts forth.

I yank him close, smashing our lips together. My hand knots in his curls, angling his head so I can better taste him. My other hand clutches his shoulder, pulling him closer still.

Then I feel his tongue on my lips and I open my mouth. With a growl—that emanates from deep within Blaine's chest and I feel its vibrations in my own body—Blaine tangles our tongues together.

With his left hand, he grasp the back of my neck, pulling me off the pillow and tilting my head sideways, plunging even deeper into my mouth. With his other hand, he displays another exciting Warbler skill. He rolls us over so that he's straddling me and I wrap me legs around his waist, without any ignominy now.

That's when my mind starts to go blank. No! I scream in my head. No, not now! I didn't want to faint this time. This was happening. And I wanted all of it! Fainting was a no-go.

He feels the need to breath too, I think, for he groans again. And with a loud smacking sound—as if for intends and all purposes our lips were glued together—he breaks apart from me. I gulp in a huge breath of air.

When I open my eyes I want to scream. In joy.

He's so beautiful. There's a trickle of sweat on his brow. His eyes are all dark and wide in lust. His lips, still wet from my clumsy kissing, are swollen and red. There are bright spots of red on his cheeks and he's panting as if he'd run a mile.

And then pain finally sets in. My jaw. Ouch. I surreptitiously try to pinch myself, just in case. Ouch, again.

He sees my pained expression and frowns. "That's not good," he says, and ohmygod, his voice so raw like he's thirsty.

I want to kiss him again. And again. And never stop. But wait—holy shit—we just KISSED!

The realness finally sets in. Wake up, hon, you are NOT dreaming, I tell myself with a shock. This really happened. Because a) the pain in my jaw, and b) you just pinched yourself.

"Blaine...?" I breath.

What the fuck. I want too say. What just happened. Why would you do that? Are you gay? Of course, he isn't idiot. Stop hoping!

"Kurt," he says, and he sounds very steady. Then he touches my jaw with the softest touch possible. It still sends fire into my veins and I shiver. Oh, and he's still on top of me. "Does this hurt much?"

"Um...not sure," I squeak. "Maybe. I don't know. Why?"

"Because-so-help-me-Kurt-I-want-to-kiss-you-again-but-I-don't-want-to-hurt-you."

We-ell. When he puts it that way. I think I manage my signature sarcastic smile, but it must've come out as a grimace. "It doesn't hurt that mmmnuph!"

He already was in my mouth. And this time, it was even more intense than the first kiss. It was as if its his last chance. His tongue travels all over my mouth, stroking, caressing every inch, taking in every single thing.

I do the same. Not knowing if it WAS dream or reality. I wanted all of him, as much I could have. We explored away. His free hand was everywhere and suddenly I don't mind my small t-shirt. It meant it was tight. And his hand and touches had better effect. I un-looped an arm from around him and took advantage of this tank-top wearing Adonis. My hands travels all over his bare arms, he shudders underneath my touch.

Then all at once, his shoulder tense and with another smacking sound he pulls away from me, my arms fall floppily on my sides. Now, he has that look. The one I'd been dreading. Horror.

But when he gets off of me and across the bed to the extreme other side of the room, I realize what he is doing exactly. There are heavy footfalls outside in hallway. Someone is coming. The relief in my mind is so mighty that I huff out my short breath and fell back on the pillow.

Finn throws open the door in his usual clumsy way.

"OH MY GOD, KURT! YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS IT'S...Ohhh..." he trails off when he sees I'm not alone.

I prop myself on my elbows, very aware of my boner and flushed, sweaty state I am in. But I think of unpleasant things hurriedly. All at once, Sugar's beastly face flashes across my eyes—and I'm good to go. At least these Vampires were good for something.

"What is it, Finn?" I demand in a bored (and breathy) voice, like I'm used to having visitors—correction, BOY visitors—in my room all the time.

His gaze is still in a loop, on me, on Blaine, then repeat. He blinks a while then says, "The news, they've found...you better come down, Kurt." He makes moves to go away but looks back at Blaine. "You as well, Blaine. You of all people need to see this."

Blaine who was studiously standing by the window, red faced but ignoring everyone with morose silence, looks at Finn in interest. Then follows Finn wordlessly.

I take a few seconds more, trying to catch my breath, and then jump out of the bed. I take a hurried look at myself in the mirror, and it's hopeless. I have that look. The one that says "very hormonal, recently kissed and just about to faint."

Its in the den that I find Blaine, Finn, Burt and Carole together. They all seem to have frozen or something. They wear same expressions of nausea mixed with pain and sadness. They have their eyes glued to the TV screen where a charming but industrious voice is sharply saying something.

I join in the silent gathering and focus on the TV. There's a man wearing an expensive, stridently cut suite and tie. He looks sort of young, but has an Elvis like aura to his personality. He looks kind of familiar too...but I can't pinpoint exactly how I know him.

Then my eyes find the headlines running along the screen, huge white letters against blood red of channel's standard motif.

PEACE TREATY—MAYOR'S NEW TRADE REGIME FOR TOWNSPEOPLE.

Now I focus on what the man, the Mayor?—damn he's Edward Smyth—is actually saying.

"...very generously and respectably accepted this offer. I can't begin to thank him, not only on my behalf, but on behalf of the whole town for which he had provided his services for so long—and shall provide them for many, many years to come." The Mayor gives a flirty smile to the camera. "So in front of the entire town, for the first time in Hilltown's history, I propose a Peace Treaty and an Alliance with yours only, Jack Anderson."

The Mayor slips aside from the podium with a flourish and gestures with his elegant hand toward the next man who takes his place to speak.

"No!" Carole gasps. "This is impossible..."

I look around at my family quickly. Finn looks as if he wants to throw up, he keeps staring at the screen stupidly. Burt looks a mask of anger and horror, but the dominant emotion is sadness. Then Burt meets my eyes, the blue softening rapidly and his gaze fell away from mine, to Blaine.

Blaine looks as if he's made of stone. The face that was just about smashed into mine a few moments ago, is now a facade of stone. There is nothing in his expression. At all. And for the first time, I feel scared of him.

Then I look back at Jack Anderson. I remember him form that first night. The tall, nicely built man with dark hair, and hazel eyes. Jack Andersons' eyes aren't quiet wide or expressive as his son's but I can tell the similarities with painful acuteness. But there's something more about the man on TV than I remembered of him since the last time I saw him. He's more...confident. More un-humbled. More....well, more.

Then it dawns on me, and his words finally start making sense.

"...was a tough decision to make. To having to choose this way of life. But, I feel that for the betterment of everyone, I've chosen wisely. With the Mayor's help, I'll be able to run my store again. I'll be able to fulfill all the shortages we've been seeing these past few months. I'll be able to help the people with their fears of the band of orphans at the top of the hill." The crowd on TV murmurs in unison and shook. "Yes—I'll be able to get rid of the Warblers. They are a menace to this town. They have been known to have been secretly in league with a few banished rouge Vampires, who are reported to have been hiding in the forest, aided by the Deserters as well."

"The FUCK...?" Finn yells angrily.

"Shhhh...listen!" Burt snaps.

"Mr Anderson, are you saying that you'll go after your own son?" A reporter asks, thrusting her mike in Jack's face.

"Blaine has been...a disturbed child ever since his mother died due to some unfortunate run in with a few rogue ones," says Jack, his voice is smooth and so convincing. "He's been weird ever since that. He started gathering orphans and anyone who wasn't taken care of—or you might as well call them Deserters—into his care. He trained them to be killers. But should I ask you? Can't he kill easily, the humans as well? As you saw this morning we found fifty-three vampires dead, mauled or in ashes. He was behind it, him and a few other, unwanted people in the town who would rather cause trouble than fix things. Ask yourselves this, if he's capable of killing so many vampires, stronger than him even, would he let you humans live if things didn't go his way?"

With this ominous note, the reporters fall silent. Some of them look furious at this accusation. Some look kinda convinced.

"So, I hereby announce my alliance with the Mayor. I promise, I'll provide for everyone. Thank you."

And with that Jack and Mayor are shaking hands, posing for pictures, smiling away.

Burt turns off the TV.

We all turn to Blaine. He looks strange, like he'll vomit but not food...fire. He looks in a rage.

"Son," Burt steps close to him, "I know this seems cold but—he is under Mayor's influence. You see that. He'll never say such things about you...he's just confused that's all..."

"Yes," Blaine snaps through his teeth. "Yes, I realize that. But he's gone. He's dead. He's one of them now. Nothing left to do anymore." His tone sounds final.

"What are you going to do now, about your brothers?" Carole asks kindly but she looks pained as well.

"I'll protect them. As I always have." He turns to the door and yanks it open, the afternoon heat seeping inside the breezy den. "I should leave now. The funeral will be starting in a while."

I watch as he leaves me, without looking back. My family starts speaking in murmurs about "poor Blaine" or "Poor boys, what a pity" but I don't hear any of it. I run after Blaine.

He's almost two houses away when I call him, "BLAINE!"

He stops at my voice, and turn around. I run up to him and for the first time, I see how much it hurts him. How much he was hurting even if he believed his father was under influence. And I feel a rush of joy. He's showing his real emotions to me alone. Me.

"Blaine...I—are you going to be fine? Are you...?"

But he's already too close to me, his nose rubbing against mine as he inhales deeply. "Kurt, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have kissed you."

"Wh-what? I don't understand. I thought you..." liked me?

"I was confused and lonely and I needed to..." Blaine looks away, his eyes shimmering brightly in sunlight. "I shouldn't have taken advantage of you like this when..."

I shake my head in disbelief. He is scared that I would be pissed? That I'll MIND that he kissed me? Oh, Blaine Anderson, if you only knew!

I close what gap is left between us and our lips ghost over each other. He stiffens, the same way I had before when he was the one kissing me.

"Nothing about this is wrong, Blaine..." I whisper against his lips. "I'll never be sorry that we kissed. Ever." And I kiss him once, softly, just to prove my point.

When I back away, his eyes are a sea of emotions. Gratitude, relief, sadness, pain, and intensity. "Kurt, I...?"

"No, we don't have to talk about this now. You need to go home." I start walking away. "I'll see you at the Funeral."

"I'll see you then," he says softly, but I hear him.

I watch as he jogs toward the hill when I close the door of my house. My family is still here, and Finn's face looks exceptionally red. So I guess they must have seen Blaine and me together. But I don't even feel scared. I just meet their gazes, not even bothering to analyze what they are thinking of me. And I go upstairs to get ready for the Funeral.