Take No Prisoners

Author: Peanutbutter

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

Authors Note: Completely Au, but hopefully as in character as a story that makes Noah Puckerman and Rachel Berry vampire hunters can be. Hope you like it and if you don't what can I do, not much really. Anyway tell me what you think. All mistakes are mine, obviously, and I only read over this a few times so I'm sorry if it's full or errors. I tried to fix as many mistakes as I could.

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His father was a fucking asshole. Puck pulled his hand back and hacked, the blood spray was enormous and Puck tucked his lips into his mouth in an attempt to keep the ingestion minimal. It really would figure that his dad, the fucking son of a bitch bastard, would leave him with this sort of legacy. Muscle tore and ripped, but the damned head was refusing to leave the neck. This beefy mother fucker was huge and his machete was about four bodies past it's perfect razor sharp edge. Some fathers, he raised his machete and hacked again more muscle tore and the bone splintered, left their sons furniture stores, computer businesses, and home town garages. His father, his arm swung and the head fell with a dull thud and Puck step away from the enormous body and slung the blade sharply sending a spray of blood onto the factory wall, left him blood and guts, sharp teeth, and a mother fucking job that promised nothing but an end in a body bag. Don't get him wrong he loved it, well some days. Puck raised his hand to wipe the specks of blood on his face, but it was saturated with red. Sighing, Puck took the blade and wiped the red onto the bottom of his shirt and across the thigh of his jeans. Damn Shout owned him. There was nothing else out there that got ride of blood stains. Shrugging, he did the same with his hands and stepped over the decapitated bodies toward the still crying girl hanging from the ceiling.

Saving the day wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Sure he got that rush, that 'you are the fucking man' rush but the more blood, and death, and failure and that rush is dulled. His father left him that; depression, and death, and danger pricked with moments of redeeming light that were short lived and far between. His father was a prick.

The girl was still sniveling, her pretty face bright red with tears and snot running out of her nose. Her hair fell in messy brown strings around her face and her clothes were splattered with blood. Hanging next to her, where her friends. Her friends that hadn't made it. She was lucky, not that she'd think that with the nightmares and the fucking survivors guilt that would follow. He knew those things, had seen them over and over, there was no way around it and it was something else his father had left to him. He reached for her, ignoring the flinching and closed blood shot eyes. It was hard to trust the man who just chopped ten full grown men to pieces, while laughing. Sure she was hung there by the ten and he saved her, but he was the one currently covered in blood and holding the knife. It was hard to explain that the men he'd decapitated were vampires and 'he', the psycho with the knife, was the good guy. He'd given up on trying to get tail from grateful victims. Usually he got screams and sometimes they hit him but mostly tears. Sometimes he'd take them out for waffles, hell they always made him feel better, and tried to explain things. Once, for his trouble, he got a kiss on the cheek, but that was the extent of his damsel in distress play.

"Relax babe," he mumbled and gripped her wrists as gently as he could. The skin under his thumb was rough with dried blood and she turned her head away from him as he pulled her wrist to him, making her swing chaotically in his direction. The tie straps were plastic cord and rope attached to a zip line running along the ceiling. This girl was in the middle of a bunch of bled out and dead bodies. Ripping out someone's throat didn't make for a clean kill in any way shape or form. There was a lot of blood at their feet smeared together as he shuffled to set her free.

Puck shoved the handle of his machete in the loop on his pants, reluctant to put the soiled blade back in it's sheath and pulled the pocket knife out and snapped the plastic cord. She fell against him sniveling and crying and clinging to him. The entire factory smelled like blood, and death, and some fucking how urine. He was ready to leave and possibly a little hungry. His system was fucked. He laughed when he was chopping up bodies and the sight of all that blood and the rush of adrenaline always had him starved.

"Let's get you out of here," he mumbled trying to avoid the blood soaked hair and rubbing a comforting circle on her back. "It's over. You can go home now."

She didn't turn immediately, but her sniffling softened and she turned into him. Her fingers clung and gripped his shirt. He pulled her a little closer and rubbed her back, hoping they could leave soon. The police were never far behind and with as much noise as he'd made taking the pack of vampires out there was no way he hadn't been heard. He didn't want to push her too soon; make her scream, but he really needed to be gone. Just as he was pulling away she hauled him closer. She was strong, too strong for a girl that was just hanging from a zip line with a trail of dried blood running down her neck and staining the collar of her floral patterned shirt.

"Oh, uh," he mumbled, "chill out for a sec. Things are fine." Her fingers ran up his arm, running a trail of gripped fabric and nails digging into flesh as her small hands formed a vice on his biceps. Her face, he still couldn't see her, ran along his chest open mouth pressed to his pecs running over his collar bone to his neck. Her finger's tugged, her breathing increased, her teeth scraped over his flesh. Her legs wrapped around his calf, pulling him ever closer. He tried to push her away, but her grip was tight, inhuman. He was fucked and of course it was his fucking father's fault.

"Hey, baby, hey, relax a bit," He tried to pull her hands free, but she growled, low in the throat a rumbling purr of dissatisfaction. Her leg wrapped around his calf tugging until he was falling backward and fuck it he was in trouble. His back hit the floor first followed closely by his head, thwacking it smartly and making black spots dance in front of his eyes.

"So hungry," she lifted her head from his neck, where her tongue was rushing out over his skin, tasting, and damn it had been a while and, shit, he was just a little turned on. Rationally he knew she was licking the dried blood off his body, that her teeth, all of them not just her incisors, were elongating, and she was hungry, but it had been a really damn long time.

"Yeah, waffles," Puck mumbled, "let's go get some." He tried to free his hand, trapped under her body and used the other to push her away from his neck. "I'm hungry too." She lifted, freeing his hand and for the first time he could see her face, her sharp toothed, black eyed stare of a newborn. He wasn't quite as turned on anymore. It probably had something to do with the surety of being eaten.

His hand groped for his machete, or his pocket knife, anything. She was still new to this, didn't understand her cravings and more importantly her own strength. It wouldn't be long before she figured it out and the lithe, once beautiful, but now dead woman was going to rip his throat out and he was going to go out just like his old man. The fucking son of a bitch.

0o0o0o0

Noah 'Puck' Puckerman was hopeless, hopeless and completely incapable of functioning without her. There was a reason she'd stuck around, a reason he'd tried to push her away, leave her at gas stations (in every state) and she was still able to find him, or you know he came back because he felt guilty. She wasn't gullible enough to think that he actually cared about her, that was just stupid and completely counter productive. Rachel Berry dealt in fact, not fiction. Puck needed her to do his job and more importantly to stay alive. As much as he loved to put himself in danger, to tip toe the edge of stupidity and bravery he wanted to live. He had a zeal of life that she had yet to catch. She liked life, just you know in a scheduled, gold star rewarding, end goal kind of way. Not his beer drinking, killing, sex, and sex, and lots of sex, all the time kind of way. They were two different people and she admitted, because she was evolved and civilized, that they needed one another. He, on the other hand, needed to be reminded of her extreme importance on a regular basis.

Walking into the damp, dirty, and dark abandoned factory and stepping over decapitated bodies and tip toeing around puddles of blood, she realized just how wrong Puck had been to go it alone. He'd claimed that he 'had everything covered' and 'calm the fuck down he didn't need a chick for back up'. Clearly it had been untrue. Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and set her foot to tapping on the cement floor. He had been right about a skirt not really being conducive to killing vampires and she was rather small comparatively, especially considering the gigantic corpse Puck and the newly turned vamp, that was hovering over him, was any indication. She should have worn pants, but she was in the middle of cover, one she'd invented herself, and she was trying to infiltrate herself into a group of teens. She was sure the skirt and knee socks were perfect, she'd been kind of wrong, but so had Puck. Admitting they were both wrong and right was something neither were good at. Clearly he needed her help and clearly her outfit looked ridiculous. Everyone had laughed. If she hadn't had years of High School under her belt in which she'd ignored all kinds of ridicule her feelings might have been hurt.

Rachel decided there was no reason to wait for him to acknowledge her. He was struggling, obviously, to reach a weapon and slay the stupid vampire that was undulating her hips against his while she reached for his throat. Her teeth were scraping his throat when Rachel stepped behind their intertwined bodies and grabbed the machete just out of his reach. Sighing testily she drew it back and hacked at soul sucking bitch's neck. The knife didn't slice right through, dulled, probably from over use. She was always telling him to sharpen after every use. There was no way her machete would ever be in this poor of condition. Grunting, she ignored the way Puck screamed, kind of like a girl, and the way the vampire's inhuman screech made her ears ring and put her foot on Puck's chest. She pulled yanking the blade free and came down again. This time the blade made it through the spinal cord and the vampire slumped, bleeding against Puck's chest.

All that stuff about wooden stakes and holy water was pretty inaccurate. Vampires could be killed with a wood stake, or anything wooden through the heart, but their rib cage was to hard to puncture for any normal human being. They had both tried it, failed, and nearly been killed by the attempt. Holy water did work, to burn and distract, but it didn't kill. The only sure fire way to slay a vampire was messy and hard and took a lot of hacking. Decapitating was the best way, maiming helped, but they continued to tick unless the head was removed.

"So you didn't need me at all?" Rachel asked and flicked the blood off her fingers and wondered if it was going to come out of her knee socks. They were new and even though they didn't round out her teenage look she could use them and they were cute. She was going to have to buy more Shout.

"Took your sweet time!" Puck complained and shoved the corpse off his chest and rolled to his feet. His gray shirt was soaked through with blood. There was no way they were getting the stains out. They were going to have to toss the whole outfit. There went more from the budget. Puck was always over running the clothing budget.

"You told me you had it covered and I quote 'I don't have time to wait for you'," Rachel pointed out and held the machete out to Puck.

He was nearly growling as he grabbed it and shoved it through the loop in his pants. "Yeah well when has that been the case. Besides you should have followed me. I got here first."

Rachel rolled her eyes vetoing the parts of the conversation that didn't matter. There something important. "Is that you finally admitting that you were wrong?" Rachel crossed her arms and shook her head. "I might have to get you to say that again, and record it."

"If that's what you got out of what I said, you're crazier than I thought," He surveyed the damage and grabbed her arm to pull her with him. "What was with you making me squirm that chick almost had Puckzilla for dinner."

Rachel shook her arm free of his grasp, ignoring the bloody prints on her forearm and followed. "Puckzilla, really?" He shrugged, grunted, just about his normal response to everything, you know when he wasn't being disgustingly lewd and kept walking machete swinging from his hip in some sort of follow me gesture, a grotesque bloody one. "Besides I know your 'I'm so hot for you' face and that was it. That disgusting blood sucker was turning you on." Puck stopped fixed her with a glare and Rachel continued before he could fire back. "You're gross."

"And your idea to stake out the teen hot spots and getting them to talk about the cool 'rave' parties was fucking stupid!" Puck grumbled and turned back around hopping over corpses with a ridiculously giddy leap that didn't fit in with the blood scene he was skipping through.

"It got me here didn't it. It worked and if you had just waited a bit longer I could have helped you." She pointed out and toed her way over a severed head. "'Puckzilla' wouldn't have almost gotten eaten and I wouldn't have nightmares about the wide screw me eyes you were giving that undead brunette."

"God," he moaned as he stepped into the moonlight, "I'm going to leave you here. I hope the cops pick you up and realize what a freaking crazy person you are. You need to be committed."

She ignored him and rounded on the parked muscle car, Puck's car. It was red and loud and too conspicuous but there seemed to be some unspoken rule about muscle cars and vampire hunters. You couldn't have one without the other. "Aren't you going to ask how my side of things went?" It really was important to recognize her contribution to the team. After all she had never really been a team player before and now she was falling into the roll nicely and graciously. Her humility was one of her greatest assets. It was important he recognize that and give her the credit she deserved.

Puck pulled his shirt over his head as he opened the driver's side door. It was dark but she could see the blood staining his shoulders and chest still wet and fresh. There was a time when the sight would have made her gasp and recoil. Unfortunately, or fortunately it didn't bother her anymore. It wasn't his blood anyway. It was darker than it should be, barely red, more death than life.

"You bring a towel?" He mumbled as he balled the shirt up and shoved it into the plastic bags she'd stashed in the console. She had been making fleeing with little mess a lot easier and a lot more likely they wouldn't be caught. She hadn't gotten a thank you for that either.

"Yeah," Rachel paused and gestured toward the back. "I brought two."

He grunted, standard answer. Rachel launched into her account before she'd shown up at the warehouse and subsequently become Puck's savior. "Well I figured since most of the missing people were teens I would impersonate one and get the information first hand."

"So you donned the catholic school girl look and tried seduce the answers out of them," He tossed the tied plastic bags into the back seat and got in.

"I don't think that was even," He cut her off. She hated being cut off.

"'And I don't want to be arrested get your ass in before the police show up and we're both in jail." He cranked the car. "I don't fucking care what you did just get in the fucking car."

It was a good idea to leave quickly. It had been a loud clearing too many screams and a lot of laughing. She was going to have to discuss his unhealthy love of violence soon. There was no way to explain the bodies and the blood and the reason they had done any of it. No one ever believed it was vampires. People were so closed minded, but she couldn't blame them. She had once been one of them. Leaving and continuing the conversation in the car was the best option but bending to his will was really hard for her. She kind of hated that he was right at the moment.

"We'll discuss it later." He managed, quirked a brow. It was like an apology, sort of. She could take it as one.

"Fine, but you're giving me a full account when we get back. I need to fill in the gaps of my journal and document the vampire movement. There might be a pattern."

They didn't have time to swing by a hotel before they headed out of town. There was too much risk. Rachel rolled her eyes as she secured her seat belt and sent a glare toward Puck in the passenger seat. He ignored her glare and continued to drive, without a seat belt and exceeding the speed limit by at least ten miles an hour. He refused to take any precaution. She tried to not let it bother her and cleared her throat as she pulled her journal out from under the passenger seat.

He snorted. "Whatever. I'm beat. You're going to drive when we get to the first rest stop. I need to sleep."

Rachel looked him up and down. He was blood all over, in his hair, his clothes, across his naked chest. She wrinkled her brow in distaste. "Don't you want to shower first?"

"And miss the chance to gross you out, never," Puck snorted and pushed the gas harder. Rachel was thankful for her seat belt as he wove haphazardly through traffic.

"You really have no," she paused and turned away from him. There was really nothing much to say. He was gross, and crass, and a complete bother but without her he was hopeless. She stuck around because she had to, because without her he'd be dead and as much as he bothered her she didn't want him dead. She owned him too much and somewhere under his incredibly rough exterior was a good person.

"That brunette was hot."

"What?"

"I mean the vampire, before she got all fangy and and blood thirsty, totally hot." He shifted in his seat. "I need to get fucking laid really bad."

Rachel took a deep breath and exhaled heavily through her nose, patience was a virtue, and Noah 'Puck' Puckerman was more than what he said and did. She could over look it.

"You want to help a fellow out," he gestured toward his crotch and made a lewd gesture with his hand.

Rachel opened her mouth and suppressed the scream that escaped her lips. She managed to keep it to a low growl between clenched teeth. "You are disgusting." She ground out. "Don't, don't talk to me until you're ready to pull over."

He shrugged and she turned away. She didn't have to see the look on his face to know he was smirking in satisfaction. He lived to rile her up. She hoped one of the many loose woman he insisted on bedding in every state gave him some sort of terrible STD that made his penis turn black and fall off.