“Dad wouldn’t just leave that behind,” Blaine pointed out, ‘It has everything he knows in it.”

Blaine reached over and took the journal from Cooper.  He absentmindedly flipped through, revealing hundreds of yellow, tattered pages covered in smudged pen marks and drawings.

“I don’t understand,” Kurt said, “Why is the journal so important?”

“Dad’s kept this thing since he started hunting,” Cooper explained, “He’s written down everything he knows and has learned in here.  It’s basically our supernatural guidebook.  I mean, we know the basics, but it would take a genius to have everything about every kind of monster memorized, ya know?”

“So why do you think he left it behind?” Kurt questioned.

“He would never just leave it,” Blaine repeated, shaking his head, “This pretty much confirms that he left against his will.”

“No so fast, squirt,” Cooper interrupted, “This time I think it might have been left on purpose.  I think he wanted us to find it.”

“What?  How do you figure that?” Blaine asked.

“Check this out,” Cooper said.

He flipped to the last page of the journal that had been written on.  The page was completely blank aside from five numbers: 35-111.

“’35-111’,” Kurt read, “Is that a code for something?”

“Coordinates,” Blaine said, “It’s how our dad used to communicate with us discreetly when he wanted us to meet him somewhere.  So where do they point to?”

“I hadn’t gotten that far,” Cooper admitted, “I came straight back here once I found them, but before we do anything with Dad we have to take care of the situation here in Lima.”

“Of course,” Blaine agreed.

“So,” Kurt chimed in, “How exactly do we go about doing that?  Blaine told me salt can get rid of a spirit temporarily, but how do we–‘

“Whoa, Kurt.  We?” Blaine interrupted, “I’m relieved that you’re being so…. accepting of all this, but I don’t expect you to actually fight any of this stuff.  Cooper and I can take care of it.”

“Well, I can help,” Kurt supplied, “I know I’m new to all of this, but I want –“

“Kurt you don’t understand,” Blaine continued, “You could get hurt –“

“Am I having déjà vu or did we have this conversation already?” Kurt snapped, “What was the point of you teaching me all that stuff before if you don’t want me involved?”

“So that you can protect yourself, Kurt!  I won’t let you –“

“You won’t let me?” Kurt scoffed.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly as Kurt’s glare burned straight into Blaine’s eyes. 

“If you won’t tell me….” Kurt turned to face Cooper, “Cooper, how do you kill a ghost?” he asked.

Cooper looked sheepishly between the couple, seemingly unable to decide where his loyalty lay.

After hesitating for another moment Cooper said, “Well first you need to find the bones of the –“

“Cooper!” Blaine reproached.

“Oh come on, Blainey,” Cooper said, “You know better than anyone that once you’re in this stuff you can’t get out.”

“Which is exactly why I don’t want him involved in any of it!”

“Blaine,” Kurt said, “I’m already involved in this.  And this thing almost killed one of my friends.  It almost killed you twice.  I’m helping whether you like it or not.”

Blaine looked desperately at Kurt, willing him to change his mind.  The idea of Kurt being tied up in this stuff for the rest of his life was awful to him and the fact he was the one that got him into it flooded him with guilt.  However, if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that his boyfriend was one of the most stubborn people he knew.  If he decided to do something he was going to see it through, his way.

Blaine shook his head in surrender.  Cooper and Kurt seemed to accept the fact that Blaine had been defeated and Cooper continued with his explanation.

“First you have to dig up the bones of the victim.  Then you have to salt and burn the remains.  After that you should be good to go.”

“….That’s it?” Kurt asked.

“Well…. yeah,” Cooper said, sounding slightly deflated that Kurt wasn’t impressed, ‘What exactly were you expecting?”

“I don’t know really,” Kurt admitted, “You guys call it ‘hunting’.  I thought it would involve more action than just lighting something on fire.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Cooper said, sounding deeply insulted, “It takes plenty of brawn to kill a ghost.  When was the last time you dug up a 6 foot grave?  The people on those stupid ghost hunting drama shows make it look easy, but that shit is hard!”

“And it’s actually not as simple as heading down to the cemetery in our case though,” Blaine pointed out, “We don’t even know who the ghost is.”

“It’s gotta be the first victim, Michael Fairweather,” Cooper argued, “Ghosts have been known to attack and kill in ways similar to their own death.”

“So you’re saying that the first victim actually was a hit and run and now it’s doing copycat killings on the rest of the victims.” Kurt surmised.

“Wait that makes no sense,” Blaine interrupted, “Where’s the motive?”

“I dunno,” Cooper supplied, “If I was killed in a hit and run, I’d be pretty pissed.”

Blaine rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, well I’m not convinced,” he frowned, “I think we need more evidence before we go breaking into a cemetery and defiling Fairweather’s grave.”

“Well, then,” Cooper said, “Let’s go talk to the family.”

*

The three if then pulled up in front of the Fairweather’s home around dinnertime that evening.  Cooper turned around and gave the two teenagers in the back seat a once over. 

“This would be so much more legit if you two weren’t so baby-faced,” Cooper groaned.

“Oh, relax, Cooper,” Kurt assured him, “It’ll be fine.”

Cooper made snort of disbelief before rummaging through the glove compartment and taking out a police badge, jacket, and tie.  The police badge contained the name Harvey Newton.

“Maybe he’s right, Kurt,” Blaine said, “Maybe we should just stay in the car.  We don’t have fake identities or anything.”

“No way!” Kurt sounded scandalized at the suggestion, “I want to hear this for myself.”

“Alright, fine, just play it cool guys,” Cooper warned as he fastened the tie around his neck and shrugged the jacket over his shoulders, “Don’t blow our cover.”

The three of them sauntered up the front lawn and Cooper rang the bell when they reached the front porch.

A short, round woman answered the door, “Can I help you?”

“Good evening, ma’am,” Cooper answered, “Officer Newton.  Are you Mrs. Fairweather?”

“I am….” the woman answered slowly, “What can I do for you?”

“I’m hear to ask you a few questions about the events surrounding your son Michael’s death a few months ago.”

At the mention of Michael the woman’s eyes glossed over and she became visibly upset.

“But the investigation ended months ago,” she insisted, “My husband and I told the police everything we know.  We’re in the middle of dinner…. why do you need to ask more questions?  And who are these two?”

She seemed to have finally taken notice of Blaine and Kurt who shifted awkwardly at the “officer’s” side.

Kurt spoke up first.

“Gregory Samson,” he said as he outstretched his hand, “And this is Roy Camrey.  We’re high school students looking to get involved in the force.  We’re shadowing Officer Newton for the day.”

Mrs. Fairweather took Kurt’s hand.

“It’s very nice to meet you boys,” she said quietly, “But I’m not sure-”

“I’m so sorry about what happened to your son,” Kurt interrupted.

He kept hold of Mrs. Fairweather’s hand and kept it in his own.

“My mother was killed in a hit and run accident when I was seven,” Kurt said soothingly, “It’s such an awful way to lose a loved one; At the hands of someone else’s recklessness.  As you are probably aware, several more incidents have taken place near the site of Michael’s accident.  Officer Newton just needs a bit more information about Michael’s case in order to prevent anyone else from getting hurt as well.”

Blaine was somewhat shocked.  Kurt hardly ever spoke about his mother’s death so openly, and hardly ever with strangers.  Blaine couldn’t help, but admire Kurt’s ability to connect with the woman so personally, after only knowing her for a few moments.

Mrs. Fairweather seemed to consider what Kurt had told her and looked at him sympathetically.

“Well,” she replied, “If my husband and I can be of any help in preventing other accidents like Mike’s, we’d be more than willing to help.”

“Thanks so much, Mrs. Fairweather,” Cooper smiled.

When she had her back turned Cooper mouthed, “Nice one!” to Kurt and nodded enthusiastically.  Kurt rolled his eyes as they followed Mrs. Fairweather inside her home.

They entered the kitchen to find a taller man with graying hair sitting at the kitchen table.  He was tired looking and reading a newspaper as he shifted pasta around on his plate.

“Who was at the door?” he asked without lifting his eyes from the paper.

Mrs. Fairweather cleared her throat, causing Mr. Fairweather to look up and notice that his wife had not returned alone.

“This man is a police officer.  He’s here with two students.  They’re here to ask some questions about Mike,” Mrs. Fairweather told him.

“I thought we told them everything already,” Mr. Fairweather replied gruffly.

“I know, and I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” Cooper spoke up, “But I promise we’ll get this over with as quick as possible so that you two can get back to your dinner.”

“Alright,” Mr. Fairweather sighed, setting down his paper, “Have a seat.”

The five of them moved into the living room and sat down in the various armchairs.  Blaine noticed several photographs of a kid not much older than he was perched around the room.  One was obviously a class photo, another featured the boy kneeling with a soccer ball resting on his knee, and others seemed to be from various family outings.  This was Michael, Blaine realized with a pang.  The only photos Blaine had seen of him previously were post-accident, looking mangled and bloody.  Seeing photos of Michael smiling brightly all around him while sitting in the same room as his obviously still grieving parents caused him to feel a sudden uprush of shame for bringing up the incident to them, on a night when they had been enjoying a perfectly innocent dinner together.

“What would you like to know?” Mr. Fairweather asked.

“If you could start by going over the details of what happened that day,” Cooper said.

Mr. Fairweather sighed and glanced over at his wife, who took his hand gently.

“Mike was driving home from the paper supply store,” Mr. Fairweather started, “He was picking up some notebooks and things he would need when he went away to school in August.”

“He texted us saying that he was close by,” Mrs. Fairweather continued, “He said he would be home in a few minutes, but it had been an hour and we still hadn’t heard from him.  That’s when one of your people down at the station called us and said that we should head to the hospital.  By the time we arrived….”

“It was too late,” Mr. Fairweather finished.

“What did the police tell you about the accident?” Blaine asked.

“They said it was a hit and run, but that the other driver had been able to flee the scene.  There aren’t any traffic cameras in that area and no witnesses so they haven’t been able to catch the bastard,” Mr. Fairweather explained.

“The force has been doing everything we can to track down the one responsible for this incident,” Cooper assured them, “Now, how would you describe Michael?  Was he particularly…. Angry?  Did he have a temper?”

Blaine shot a glare at his brother.  Really, Coop? he thought.  His brother was an excellent hunter, but his people and subtlety skills could definitely use some work. 

“What does anything like that have to do with your investigation?” Mrs. Fairweather questioned.

“Standard procedure, ma’am,” Cooper answered, “Did he have a tendency to act vengefully?”

Blaine had to restrain himself from the strong desire to smack Cooper across the face.  Out of the many ways he could have gone about questioning the Fairweathers to find out whether or not their posthumous son would have been likely to manifest in the form of a vengeful spirit, Cooper has decided to go about it in the most disrespectful and unsubtle way possible.

“None of the other officers made these kinds of accusations,” Mr. Fairweather growled, “What are you insinuating?”

“Absolutely nothing, sir,” Blaine said quickly, “He didn’t mean-“

“And I don’t need some kid coming in here and interrogating me either!”  Mr. Fairweather scowled.

“Paul!” Mrs. Fairweather pleaded, “They’re just –“

“We’ve been through this story a hundred times!”  Mr. Fairweather insisted, “Why can’t we just mourn our son in peace?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Fairweather,” Kurt said calmly, “We completely understand how hard this must be on the two of you.  We just need you to tell us a little bit more about Michael’s personality.  The investigation needs to be as thorough as possible.”

Blaine held his breath.  Although Mr. Fairweather still looked disgruntled he seemed to consider what Kurt had said.  The room in the air was tense as Mr. Fairweather took a slow breath.

“Look,” he said, “My son was a great kid.  He was an honor student, he had lots of friends, he was on the soccer team…. He even spent last summer working with kids in Tanzania.”

He gestured to one of the photographs of Michael posing with a group of other volunteers at a children’s school.

“I don’t know what any of this ‘angry personality’ crap has to do with your investigation, but I can assure you it doesn’t apply to my son.”

“Thank you, Mr. Fairweather,” Cooper said gratefully, “Now I just have one more question and then we’ll be out of here.  Where was Michael buried?”

“Buried?” Mrs. Fairweather said, “Well…. he wasn’t.  He wished to be cremated.  His ashes were spread at the soccer field where he practiced.”

Disappointment was etched clearly on Cooper’s face.

“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Fairweather for your hospitality,” Cooper sighed.

*

After exiting the Fairweather’s house the three of them piled back into the Impala. 

“So, if Michael’s bones have already been burned….” Kurt said slowly.

“It means he’s not the one doing the attacks,” Blaine finished, “So, now what?”

“I don’t know,” Cooper admitted, “I thought for sure it would be the first victim.  Nothing else fits.  We must have missed something.”

“Maybe,” Blaine said as Cooper pulled back onto the road, “We should look over the police reports again.”

“We’ve looked them over a million times!” Cooper protested.

“Well as much as I would love to join the two of you,” Kurt interrupted, “When we left this morning I told my Dad I would only be gone for a couple hours.  So, you guys should probably drop me back at my house before he starts freaking out.”

When they arrived at the Hummel residence, Blaine got out to walk Kurt to the door. 

“So, today was…. eventful,” Kurt smiled.

“You could say so,” Blaine laughed, “You were really great today.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow at him.

“I mean, with how you handled everything,” Blaine explained, “Not just learning about all this supernatural stuff, but back at the Fairweather’s too.  That lady was about to slam the door in our faces, but you were able to convince her not to.  And you were able to get them to answer our questions even after Cooper acted like an ass to them.  You’re so great at connecting with other people.  I love that about you.”

“Well, I’m glad you appreciate my manipulation skills,” Kurt rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious,” Blaine argued, “I don’t deserve to be lucky enough to have someone like you.”

“Blaine,” Kurt sighed, taking his boyfriend’s hand, “I want you to stop being so hard on yourself.  You’re everything to me.  I don’t ever want you to think you don’t deserve this.  Over-gelled hair, Katy Perry-fetish, crazy brother, secret Ghostbuster abilities; I accept all of it.  I will never say goodbye to you.”

Blaine continued to grasp Kurt’s hand, but was staring down at his shoes.  Those kinds of responses were exactly what he meant by not deserving someone like Kurt.  Suddenly Kurt captured his lips with his own and was pulling Blaine closer towards him.  Kurt’s arms were around his neck as he rested his hands low on Kurt’s waist.  Blaine sucked Kurt’s bottom lip as he stroked his hipbone with his thumb.  He could feel Kurt’s smile against his lips.

“Goodnight,” Kurt whispered as he pulled away, “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” Blaine said, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Kurt smiled.

He pressed a short peck to Blaine’s lips before he made his way towards his front door.

“Hey, loverboy,” Cooper called from the car, “The car’s running let’s go!”

Blaine huffed and walked back to the Impala.

“Will you ever stop being so annoying?” Blaine asked Cooper.

“Nope, just like you’ll never be tall enough to ride Space Mountain,” Cooper retorted.

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”