Hello guys. Yeaah I´m back with another story: As if I haven´t got enough. Well it´s exam time at my school so that´s why some of my work may have to wait for around christmas to be uploaded. But don´t worry, not abandoning :D This chapter is rather explanatory, more conversation in the following ones, I promise :D

Explanation: So this story is based on a Tv show I have watched when I was much younger named The Tribe. A virus has wiped out the grown-ups and the kids have to fend for themselfes. That´s the main idea. I will not go along with the plot of the show in other aspects though. I know there is a book with a similiar idea, but i haven´t read it. Basically there are many tribes in this city, one of it is Node. No Directions. Don´t ask where the e at the end is from, it sounded better than NODI :D Blaine is calles ´Ace´ in here at the beginning, so don´t get confused. Also, Blaine is not the overly nice guy, but I swear he and Kurt will get along in the story later on. For now let´s just say, you need to handle a sick and abused Kurt for the sake of the plot. I haven´t been plotting so thouroughly for a long time. I hope I will bring this story to an end and you will support me, because I kinda fell in love with this :D Why this story is called holy ground though, will not be revealed yet.

Warnings: Mention of deaths, slight beatings and sickness. And a half skully face Blaine - only paint, don´t worry haha :D

Chapter 1

28. November 2012

We were the first ones to be informed. It was two days before Kurt's 16th Birthday, when I knew this would be the last one I would see him celebrate. The otherwise quiet room erupted in loud chatters and even screams pierced the congress. I remained sitting at the desk, my demeanor calm, even though my hands were shaking. One year at most. One. And that was only a rough estimate, given my age.

[…] virus that mutates body cells in […] .Bodily functions will shut off[…] .According to studies the process will stretch from seven month to a full year, depending on age and health, before human bodies decease. […] no cure yet.

It was top secret information, not to be leaked to the public to avoid mass panic. I knew that it would only take days, maybe month before someone broke down and sold the truth to a news station, hoping the money they received would safe their asses.

This night, I took the first flight home and got home at 10 pm. Carole smiled a little confused by the sudden heated kiss I gave her, right before I rushed to Kurt. When I entered his room he eyed me though the window, his face moist with some kind of crème he used.

"Is something wrong Dad? I thought you wouldn´t be back until Thursday?" He asked, the worried expression was that of his mom.

"Nothing´s like home. I missed you."

"We ate breakfast together today."

He continued to rub something into his face and I couldn´t help but watch him. His back was so tiny and his skin was fair. When he was younger I dreamed about cheering him on in football, helping him get the ladies or enjoying a beer together. Now I felt myself tear up at what I was about to lose. He wasn´t the son I had dreamed to spend my life with. He was even better.

We would both die.

September 2013

Kurt coughed for the third time in the last five minutes. His skinny hands gripped at his shirt, as if wanting to reach into his lung to calm it. When the coughing seethed, he desperately gulped for the air he had lost. He breathed in deeply once, twice, feeling like no air reached further than his throat. The air tasted slightly sour, making his empty stomach cramp with sickness.

"You alright dude?" Finn asked, walking towards the bed he lay in.

Or rather towards the blankets they used as a compensation for the missing mattresses. A lot of survivors had gotten ill, deceases hung in the air, grabbing a hold of the healthy parts of their bodies. Finn hadn´t been one of them. His big body was as hulky as ever, his skin was still partly tanned and his voice was still intact. Kurt and a few others hadn´t been as lucky. It had started around a year ago, back when the news about AAA came out. Once upon a time he had known the technical term for the virus that caused body cells to mutate. He now stuck to the much easier version: Acid! Acid! Acid!, which was the children's version of that. Whatever it was that had caused the death of millions of grown-ups and few teenagers and children, it had damaged his lungs permanently. At worst times, like today, every breath hurt, every cough was enough to drive him crazy with the pain in his chest. On days like this, speaking was an effort that could leave him drenched in sweat.

"Yeah." Kurt answered breathlessly.

Finn was not the brightest of all, but he knew when someone was sick. He eyed him suspiciously, before he let out a sigh.

"Do you still have your medicine? If not Puck and I could sneak out to find you a new one."

In response, Kurt nodded weakly. He was happy that the inhaler gave no indication of its content. Under the skeptical gaze of Finn, he brought the device to his mouth, pressed the button and fell stale air enter his mouth. It was just a farce, something to ensure that they wouldn´t risk their lifes out there just for him.

"See? All –" Kurt tried to say, but it ended in coughs.

A hand rubbed soothingly over his back, too small to be that of his brother. Through watery eyes he recognized Rachel. A part of him reveled in the touch, as simple as it was. A bigger part cringed, instantly crawling away from her.

"Kurt I wanted to apologize again. What I said was-"

"Rachel I don´t think now is the right moment to discuss this. He is weak. Let him rest until the medicine works." Finn interrupted his girlfriend.

Kurt almost regretted lying to him about the inhaler, since keeping Rachel from him was a blessing. He couldn´t face her after what she had said about his father. Everyday could be the last for both of them, and still, it had cut too deep to be mended by mere words.

"You are right. I´m sorry I´m being overly emotional right now. Just know that I am sorry Kurt."

She then grabbed her boyfriend´s hand and Kurt watched them both walking down the aisle for hair products. Kurt caught them both looking worriedly at him, before turning around the corner, resuming with the life they now had to live. If you could call it living. Most of the days, Kurt resumed in his makeshift bed, listening to mostly Rachel's, sometimes someone others voice and watching the light flicker. It was only a matter of time when electricity would finally shut down. Whoever regulated the services right now was a punctual person. No electricity until sunset, no opportunities to keep food cool for long that way. At 9 pm the yellow lights flickered on in the supermarket, illuminating the aisles and switching on the radio. Today no one could really listen to the report of the Panthers; Kurt´s coughs drowned most of it.

"Shut the fuck up Hummel. Those damn kitties are talking about us." Santana finally snapped, shouting from her bed on the cash desk. Brittany was tugged under the blanket they shared and looked at him. The distance was too great to determine what her facial expression was like. Santana and Brittany weren´t the only one gathering at the once entrance of the shop. Quinn, Sam, Puck and Mercedes sat around the radio, straining to listen to those idiots.

"Santana, he is sick." Mercedes reminded her.
"We all know! It´s not like we could forget with his constant coughing that won´t stop to annoy me. Can´t you die a little quieter?"

Kurt would defend himself if sentences could be formed without making him even sicker. The death of people he loved had roughened him up, even if his body hadn´t.

"That´s not funny!" Brittany suddenly yelled. The girl with the now shorter hair grabbed their blanket and walked over to Kurt's bed.

"Here, you seem to need it. Don´t listen to her, she´s grieving about Artie and Sugar. Lord Tubbington once had the coughs too, so we cut of his cigarette intake. Kurt, are you smoking?"

He shook his head in response, handing her back the blanket. For a short second Brittany looked dazed, like the old her. Her mouth opened to say something, but no words came out, and she walked back wordlessly. She no longer was the rather foolish girl from High School he had once made out with. While still being a little stupid, she was the only person knowing a bit about medicine, as she claimed she knew because of her cat. Following her retreating form, he saw Santana look at him, before standing up to turn up the volume. One hand of his reached up to cover his mouth with his blanket to stifle his sounds.

"Broadcast-time. The Panthers have caught no sight of all of our favorite tribe recently. Frankenteen and Hedgehog have roamed the city last week, but have escaped us just before they could lead us to their little hide out. We know you are listening! You can´t hide forever. The food you stored should be for everyone, don´t you agree? We will find you Node, we will find you and share the food you selfishly keep to yourself. The Panthers are thankful for any hint leading to their whereabouts. Hints will be rewarded with access to the internet and a cup of water. You know where to find us, but we will decide who to trust. Node is the enemy and they need to be stopped."

Uncomfortable silence crept through the supermarket as they processed the words said. The Panthers had somehow found out that they had food instead of a stupid radio station that was able to broadcast from 9 to 11. But this was actually the first time they had tried to incite listeners.

"Node is the enemy. They don´t want to swap a radio station with a supermarket." Sam said suddenly in a bad imitation of the speaker. Brittany was the first one to laugh and clap her hands in joy, already snuggled against her girlfriend again. Others joined, even Kurt did.

"Hedgehog? How do they come up with those stupid names? Damn I´m the Puckosaurus. Why doesn´t that name stick?"

Puck stood up, flexing his muscles as if that would miraculously change the name he was given by other tribes. Some tribes really had chosen to rename the members. Thanks to Mercedes, we could move into the supermarket her Dad had owed, sealed it shut when Burt had told them about the virus and used our own entrance, kept hidden from any passing people. Pieces of metal, cut in heavy triangles, welded together where windows had once been now obstructed the view. And just like the exterior of the Supermarket, the Glee kids had changes and grown-up. Node was just the tribe name that had stuck, even though none of them felt like they had any direction at all. No Direction.

"Let´s listen to some audio-book instead of continuing listening to these crappy cats!"Mercedes said.

She tried to force a happy sound to her voice, as everyone in the market sighed. They had five audio books in here, each of them had been listened to at least twice. Though when she slipped in the Lion King, the room turned quiet. Kurt lay awake, listening to the story he knew by heart, singing along with all the songs in his head instead of aloud. The story was long over, the market filled with silent snoring, as the lights finally flickered out and darkness surrounded him.

Kurt waited for another hour before he slipped on a hoody of Pucks that lay on the shelf they kept their clothes. It was too dark to recognize anything, but after months of staying here, he knew this place without needing his sight. He turned right when he felt the metal of a freezer, then left in the aisle with Hair products and went straight ahead from then on, until he could reach for the handle of the storage-room door. Once inside, a small window in the left hand sight of the room provided just enough light for him to make out the ladder they had screwed into the wall to make sure it never slipped when they climbed up. When coughs threatened to work up his throat, he bid down hard on his lower lip, stifling them to much quieter huffs. Once his body was calmer, he climbed the ladder, opened the window and sat down on the sill. Cold air ripped at the too big hoody and the holes in his jeans as he sat down.

Sometimes Kurt wanted to sit down here and enjoy the air that seemed much fresher in comparison to the stale air inside of the market. But his dangling feet could be much easier to spot, so he never did. Closing the window behind him, he gripped for the sill. He always felt the adrenaline pump thorugh his body on the first step outside of the safe place they stayed. One slip from the brick wall and the ten meters he would fall could be his end. His right food instinctively went right into the hole where a brick once had been, as his left hand left the sill to reach into another empty space inside the wall. They were lucky the window was also hidden by two small corners, making the climb down easier. Step by step, he searched and found the holes to support his weight on the way down. Third brick from the left , left hand, second brick from the right, right foot. He knew every place of the missing bricks functioning as ladder. A quiet sigh left his mouth as he had steady ground under his feet.

It had been a long time since Kurt had been outside. The periods of time he was ill had increased in the last weeks, making hiding rather difficult. And hiding was the only thing that kept all of them alive. Without their hiding skills, they would have all been dead. Artie was the proof of that. He had simply been too flashy with his wheelchair. Someone had killed him before he could make it into the improved market. Sugar had disappeared one night, her whereabouts still unknown. But her loud behavior made her death likelier. No one thought she would return. In the first week she had gone missing, they all had lived in fear of someone breaking in and killing them, if Sugar hadn´t kept their secret. When none of that happened they knew she had taken their secret to her grave.

Right now, walking along the streets of the city was reckless for Kurt. Though he knew most tribes avoided going outside in the night, some of them lurked in the darkness of the shutdown town. They were the reason most tribes stayed inside at all. Kurt should have been asleep by now. Walking down the alley, almost running, even though his lungs protested, while he waited for any noise that would indicate the arrival of enemies, he hoped he would get closer to his goal. Finn and Puck had risked their lifes too often to safe Kurt´s. They had even been recognized and named by the Panthers. He couldn´t let that continue to happen. He would take care of himself. In times like this friendship either run as deep as theirs, or it didn´t exist. Kurt knew it that his death was inevitably. It would happen sooner rather than later. If he found medicine in the Highschool pharmacy he would survive a little longer. If he didn´t, so be it. Why drag his friends into this?

His body grew tired really quickly, he had to rest in alleys and corners to even be able to continue. No more coughs escaped his lung, as his body was too preoccupied with trying to breathe in more. More air, more. The trip that would have taken him ten minutes last year, now took him over twenty minutes, but he was glad he hadn´t been spotted by anyone. His old Highschool loomed in the spare light of the moon, looking quiet and empty, even though he knew someone had to be in there. Schools were common places for tribes to live in, so he had few hopes of the infirmary not being occupied. Still, it was his only chance of finding medicine. Finn and Puck had returned empty-handed last time, saying that all the pharmacies had been robbed. Of course they had. Stifling coughs with the hoody, he took a few seconds to calm himself down, before he walked around the school.

At every window he bend his body low enough to make it impossible to see for people inside. From time to time he looked around, but he couldn´t make anything out in the darkness. At the window leading to the infirmaries he peeked through the window, barely long enough to make sure it was abandoned. He continued to walk to the back of the school, his breaths now too loud in the complete silence that surrounded him. Just as Kurt wanted to look around the corner, he heard voices. They were too low to make words out, so he bit down on the fabric and waited. He should go back to the market. He could die there, surrounded by his friends. Maybe even have a good last meal before he finally stopped breathing. Just when he decided to do just that, the voices got even lower and soft steps told him they were going inside. Sitting down on the cold ground, he waited for a few minutes, before daring to have a peek around the corner.

The entrance was empty as far as he could tell. Holding his breath, he bend down low once more and hurried to the steps, up to the doors of his old Highschool. Kurt knew that going inside he had to make it to the second door that lead to the infirmary undetected. If he did that, stayed quiet while going through the cabinets with medicine and back out, he would survive a little longer. If they would catch him, he would probably be tortured, or end up dead right away. People in these times were lawless. The only law that applied was:

Do anything to ensure your own survival.

Standing out here, Kurt would find too many reasons for him not to risk it, but to go back, so he just rushed in. The doors were open, as if inviting every intruder possible. It should make him happy that they made it easier, but he knew that it only meant they thought they could handle enemies. Not a good perspective right now, Kurt thought, and shoved the thought in the back of his mind. Sneaking in, he eyed the halls suspiciously. His heart beat fast now, just like it did when he sat on the window sill. The first step he did was loud in his ears, almost as loud as his own heart-beat. He expected people to run out of their rooms and spot him. When they didn´t he almost slid his way over to the left side of the hall. Slowly, Kurt passed the first door that lead to a classroom. Just then he had the familiar feeling of his lungs constricting and he bit down harder. One cough could cost his life. To his surprise he made it to the infirmary undetected and opened the door with ease. Once inside, he closed the door gently, holding his breath until it was. Kurt´s eyes would need time to adjust to the darkness of the room, but he didn´t have the time for it. In his mind, he still saw the cupboard on the right side of the room.

Searching for it, he quickly found the knob. He turned it around, but the doors didn´t open. The first thing that was locked just had to be the medicine cupboard. Fuck, he screamed in his mind. Making out the contours of the desk in front of the window, he opened every drawer quickly. Orange pill bottles caught his sight and he shoved them into his big pockets quickly. Whatever they were for, it could only be helpful in the long run. Opening the last drawer and emptying it, he still hadn´t found what he was looking for. He knew that an inhaler had to be in this room somewhere, in case of emergency. Kurt bit down on his lip again, preventing coughs and words of anger. His hands clenched on the surface of the desk as he looked up, right out of the window. The first thing he saw was dark eyes, then the paint on the face. The man looked at him in confusion, before he was gone too suddenly, for Kurt to even blink.

His mind caught up to the situation fast and he reached for the window to open it. He had to run. He could feel the window give in, but only slightly. In desperation, he through his fists against the glass, the window gave in to the pressure, but wouldn´t open wide enough for him to fit through. In this moment, Kurt didn´t think about being quiet. A melodic whistle echoed through the empty halls and shortly after steps and voices could be heard. His fist collided again and again, opening the window a little more every time. His lungs screamed in response, tired of too much action. Light erupted from behind him, the door flew open. A part of him wanted to surrender, just get it over with. The other part still tried to open the window.

Another whistle sounded, this time louder as it came from a few feet away. Finally the window opened fully, and Kurt´s hands reached out for the wall for support just when strong hands grabbed him. Kurt struggled as they forced his hands behind his back and him to bend this way. He still could see the now open window, his life and freedom taunting him. Shortly after, he was turned around and forced down to his knees. Hands pressed down on his shoulders and someone still had his wrist behind his back, as struggling was made impossible for him.

"What tribe are you from?" A male voice asked him.

He looked up to see the one who had spoken. The flashlights some of the people held made it possible to make out every one of them, but his eyes stayed on the boy in the front. It wasn´t the one he had seen outside. This one had half of his face covered in white paint, around the lips teeth had been drawn on that made him look like he had a sinister smile on a far too big mouth. The teeth looked sharp. Around left eye he had black paint, making the whole left side, with teeth and the dark eye seem like a skull. He had dark curly hair that made him look even wilder. In his complexity he looked good, with muscular arms. The thing that brought Kurt back into the dangerous reality was the metal pole in his right hand that gleamed in the yellow light of the flashlights.

"Make him talk!" The boy ordered.

Before Kurt could process what was being said, his lower leg, now resting on the floor was being stomped on by the guy to his left side. Kurt´s high pitched scream pierced the room.

"Let´s ask you again. What tribe are you from?"

"None."Kurt lied.

"You look well fed for a loner. So either you are lying, or you know where food is stored."

The boy then stepped forward, until Kurt´s face was the same height as his leather covered crotch. Calloused finger gripped his chin and forced him to look up.

"So what is it? It would be a pity for you to lose that precious face in your line of work, huh?" The boy said, squeezing his chin.

Kurt knew that the boy implied he was a street whore, the only kind of tribe-less people that weren´t in danger of dying, since teenagers still loved sex.

"Just kill me." Kurt finally answered through clenched teeth.

He could see the smirk on the boys face, making the left side with the skull look more sinister. Then his vision blurred as his lung felt like it contracted again, as coughs shook his body. The boy stepped away from him and he doubled over, trying to get more air. He could feel his hands being released, as well as his shoulders and he had just enough power to embrace himself, as if that could soothe his body. A metallic taste formed in his mouth with every new cough it grew more. After what seemed like an eternity he stopped coughing, his forehead still pressed to the floor and his mouth opened to release some of the blood in it. Tears clung to his cheeks as he panted for air that never seemed to reach his lungs.

"Seems like your body does the killing part just fine without our help. So you were looking for some medicine in here? Still doesn´t answer my question. Where have you gotten the food? Tell me and maybe we could give you your precious medicine."

Kurt knew when he was lied to. Even if he didn´t, in this times giving thieves medicine was never going to happen. He would never betray his friends. They could kill and torture him, he would never tell. Hands pulled him back on his knees and he couldn´t find it in himself to care for the blood and spit that clung to his chin. Unable to form words, Kurt shook his head no.
"No? We really could have saved you."
"Kill me." Kurt whispered again.

Chuckles erupted from all around the room. Kurt was too powerless to look up or to care. He just hoped his assumption his whole life had been wrong and there was a god. Maybe he could find his Mom and his Dad somewhere in afterlife.

"We´re not stupid enough to let you die before telling us. Sooner or later you will break down and tell us where we can find food, otherwise you will starve along with us."

The boy left the room then, whistling a new tune. The other boys in the room followed him. Kurt was lifted as well, and forced to walk down the hall. Whenever he tried to run, or stopped walking, they shoved or beat him. His mind was too occupied with other things, so that he only realized where they were going, when he was inside. The choir room now looked different. The chairs had been replaced by familiar looking mattresses and the trophy-cupboard was empty. The piano was damaged beyond control, a few keys littering the floor. The only things still on their places were the white-board and the desk of Mr. Schuster. This was where they shoved him down to sit. When they handcuffed him to the leg of the table, hands behind his back, he saw one boy without painting laying on the mattress, looking at him with hollow eyes. A shudder ran though his body, caused by the hard, cold floor he was supposed to sit on, and by the strangers stare.

"Let me get this straight. We won´t give you the pleasure of killing you just now You will remain sitting here, being beaten up until you tell us your secret.." The skull boy said, sitting down at the back of the choir room on a mattress. It was the exact same place he had often sat on.

"I won´t!"

Sooo? Was it okay? I hope it was.

Sorry for some grammar or spelling mistakes. I´m from Germany and even though some of my friends mistake me for an english dictionary, I am not :DDD

-I am looking for a Beta that would not only correct those mistakes, but would help me find new ways of expressing what I want to write in better words!

Reviews fuel me. I would love to hear your opinion or plottings :D