A/N So I realized that there are very few Glee/Percy Jackson crossovers on here and decided to change that. Honestly I have no idea how often I'll update this, but I'll do my best.

disclaimer: I don't own Glee or Percy Jackson. Sadly.

Okay, either the brownies he'd just eaten had weed in them-which was not unlikely, as this was Puck's party-or Kurt had officially gone crazy.

Because these Cheerios were definitely not human.

This was all Puck's fault. Before glee club on Tuesday, Kurt had been perfectly content to spend his Friday night at home with an America's Next Top Model marathon. But no, Puck couldn't go just one weekend without throwing a damn party. Or keep his fucking mouth shut.

~Three Days Ago~

Kurt washed the red slushy out of his eyes and looked intently at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He'd done it again. He hadn't meant to, but Karofsky just pissed him off so much that he couldn't help it.

Every day since Kurt walked into McKinley the first time in freshmen year, the jocks have gone out of their way to make his life hell. Most days he could just brush off their hate, but today he just couldn't help it. Kurt tried to clam himself down, he really did.

That didn't stop the pipes from exploding above their heads.

Karofsky and Azimio yelped and jumped out from under the cold spray of water, their eyes wide and maybe a bit spooked. But then they just shook the droplets off their varsity jackets and turned back to Kurt.

"Whatever, fag, we'll let you get away with it this time. But if we see you spreading your fairy dust again then we will be back." Azimio high-fived Karofsky and they walked off.

The good thing about the impromptu shower in the hallway was that it washed most of the slushy covering Kurt's face.

Kurt put away his towel and headed to the choir room. His best-and only-friend Artie was already parked in his chair and Kurt plopped down next to him.

Artie was an interesting guy because even though he was in a wheel chair, he was on the football team. When Artie first told Kurt he had made the team, he figured the guy must have friends on the team who took pity on him. However, Artie was actually terrified of all of the football players and even refused to shower in the locker rooms with them. Sometimes they even picked on him and Kurt would have to step in and stick up for his easily intimidated friend. They already gave Kurt hell for just existing, so what did it matter if he added more fuel to the fire?

The crippled teen also had a strange attachment to his Yankees baseball cap. Ever since Kurt had befriended Artie a year ago, the young male fashionista had been dying to alter Artie's wardrobe (which mostly consisted of plaid shirts and sweater vests). Kurt had convinced him to wear some outrageous outfits in the past, but in all the time they'd known each other, Artie had never taken off that damn hat.

Kurt was playing angry birds on his phone when Puck burst in the door and stood by the piano. Mr. Schue wasn't there yet, so nobody could tell him to sit down. He looked triumphant, like he was about to announce that he'd gotten into Harvard. Or, in Puck's case, like he'd managed to officially sleep with every Cheerio at McKinley.

Kurt rolled his eyes and looked back down at his phone. He was used to Puck's antics by now, seeing as they live together. Kurt's father had abandoned him and his mother when he was just a baby, his mom always covering for him and making excuses. Kurt didn't want to hear the excuses, all he knew was that his father had left and he wanted nothing to do with the man.

When he was four, Kurt's mother died. The young boy knew that it was a car accident-key word being accident-but he couldn't help but resent the world for taking away the only family he had.

Since then, Kurt had gone through homes faster than the glee club switched sexual partners. Every foster family was the same, they wanted him around-or at least tolerated him-for about a month before they figured it out. It was the strange affinity for water, the dyslexia, the ADHD, but most of all it was his knack for bringing trouble with him every where he went. Kurt was a freak, and if you add to that the fact that Kurt Hummel is most definitely gay then you get the recipe for the most undesirable kid in the whole foster care system of the United States.

The summer before freshman year, Kurt was taken in by a lady named Gina who lives in Lima, Ohio. Kurt had been there for a year now and was in his sophomore year at McKinley, which was a new personal record. Usually he'd have gotten kicked out of the home, or the school, or both by now.

It's not like he looks for trouble in either of those places. Trouble just has a way of finding him, no matter how much he moves around the country.

Anyway, Puck is the other guy who lives with Kurt and Gina. Puck has been there for much longer, years even, and Gina officially adopted Puck when he was seven. The both of them probably fully expect Kurt to officially join the family sometime soon, but Kurt knows better. He knows he'll find a way to fuck it up sooner or later.

Speaking of Puck, Kurt realized he should probably pay attention to whatever his kind-of-sort-of brother is talking about, just to make sure his temporary home isn't about to be set on fire.

"…so you don't need to worry about the alcohol because the Puckosaurus has got that covered. Oh, and you don't need to worry about driving home because Mom is gonna be gone all weekend. You can all just crash in the basement or something"

"Wait, what?" Kurt interrupted, because goddammit this sounds like a party and Kurt lives in this house too. There was no way he was cleaning up after a bunch of plastered Neanderthals who torture him on a daily basis.

"Chill out little bro, we're just having a little get-together at our place." Kurt sent him his best bitch glare.

"You couldn't have asked me first? Knowing you, the whole school probably knows by now. So now I have to go along with this obviously stupid idea that will just lead to me covering your ass and cleaning up after a bunch of people I don't even like! How am I supposed to enjoy my evening with all of you people making a bunch of noise downstairs?"

"Hummel, you say that like you're not gonna be just as wasted as the rest of us."

"That's because I have more important things to do then drink until I can't see straight and throw up all over our newly designed bathroom, Noah."

Kurt took a deep calming breath and Puck looked a bit annoyed at the use of his first name. Good, serves him right.

"But Kurt, that's exactly what you need! God damn, you're so uptight all the time. Maybe if you just let go and drink some fucking shots, you'll stop acting like you've got a stick up your ass." Puck smirked. "Or maybe having a stick up your ass would help you."

Kurt went bright red and spluttered in embarrassment. He turned to Artie for some help, but the handicapped boy just looked on with a nervous and entirely unhelpful expression. The rest of the glee club was looking on in amusement and Lauren even handed him a number on a napkin, whispering to him about "a friend of a friend who would definitely be willing to help in that department."

After brushing her off, Kurt admitted defeat. "Fine, we'll have your damn party. But everyone better stay the hell away from my room because I just redid the color scheme of it and if any of my shoes get stained with booze I will end you."

And that's how Kurt found himself sipping on a beer on Friday night, surrounded by people he hated. The brunet searched the crowded living room for Artie, who he'd lost track of about an hour ago.

Artie had told him earlier that he was bringing a friend with him to the party. It was some girl whose name Kurt couldn't remember-Rebecca or Rose or something like that-who apparently went to summer camp with Artie. She was visiting for the weekend from New York, which made Kurt ridiculously because that's the one place he wanted to live that he hadn't moved to at some point.

A Yankees cap was suddenly visible near the kitchen entryway and Kurt headed in that direction. A very drunk football player was dancing on the table and doing an impressive job of knocking everything off said table. A couple of guys had somehow found a baseball hat and were hitting various household objects with it. It seemed like they were taking shots every time one of the objects made it through the doorway on the opposite side of the room. Kurt rolled his eyes and made a mental note to slap Puck for ever thinking this party was a good idea.

Kurt finally made it to the kitchen without any serious injuries. Artie was sitting by the counter whispering with a pretty brunet with a large nose. The two of them were hunched low and talking secretively, like they didn't want anyone to over hear them. Which was ridiculous because you couldn't hear yourself think in that house.

After a moment of awkwardly hovering by the toaster, Kurt cleared his throat, the two quickly jumped apart. Well, Artie didn't actually jump, but you get the idea.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt anything," Kurt shouted over the music.

Artie shook himself and his face morphed into an easy smile. "Not at all, man. I was just wondering where you were. This is my friend Rachel Berry that I told you about." Artie gestured toward the girl, who grinned a bit crazily. Oh, that's right, her name is Rachel. Duh.

"It's so nice to meet you Kurt, I've heard so much about you! Artie told me that you're a countertenor, which is a very unique gift that you should properly exercise at all times. I happen to be an expert myself and could give you some lessons before I head back to New York." She looked expectantly at Kurt.

Kurt took a large gulp of his beer as she talked. This girl seemed nice enough, but Kurt had a hunch that Rachel Berry was best delivered in small doses. He fixed himself a bit of a stronger drink as he considered her offer.

"That sounds great, Rachel, but I'll have to see if I have time. I'll probably spend the weekend cleaning up after this party, but I'll let you know. But if I don't see you again later, it was great to meet you."

Kurt then made his escape into the sea of people. With not much else to do, he decided to search out his brother and make sure he was making good choices.

He found Puck on the couch, surrounded by girls in Cheerio uniforms. Of course.

Something seemed off about these girls, though. Maybe it was the fact that he was positive he'd never seen any of them before in his life. While he wasn't super close with any of these people, he at least vaguely recognized all of them. But these girls weren't familiar to him at all.

Then Puck stood up, presumably to get another drink, and he caught one of their eyes. For whatever reason, Kurt just couldn't look away and the more he looked, the more sinister the girl's face became. Then her eyes turned deep scarlet.

Kurt looked down at the lone drink in his hand, wondering if it was laced with something stronger. There was no way that would have happened when he was sober, but the problem with that assumption was that Kurt didn't feel drunk. Kurt shook his head and wandered to the front door to get some fresh air.

The cold air hit him immediately and he could feel his head clearing. It was still loud as fuck outside the house but at least he could think out here.

He'd almost managed to convince himself that the red eyes hadn't been real when the door creaked open behind him.

Kurt's breath froze in his chest. He knew he shouldn't be scared; it was probably just somebody leaving. When he didn't hear the telltale sound of drunken laughter, he turned around slowly.

The Cheerios from before were looking right back at him from atop his porch.

There were three of them, all of them the cliché pretty blonde you'd expect to be a cheerleader. The one with fake tan and the even faker breasts stepped up. Fake Boobs, who appeared to be the leader, batted her eyelashes and sent Kurt a flirty smirk.

"Hey there, I couldn't help but notice that you snuck off," She pouted and took a few steps closer. "That made me sad. I thought you left before we got the chance to…get to know each other."

Kurt bit his cheeks to keep from laughing at this girl. There was no way she could possibly be serious.

"Um…I'm sorry? I just needed some air." Kurt said truthfully.

"Oh," The girl stepped even closer-she really needed to learn about personal space-and started playing with the collar of Kurt's shirt. Honestly Kurt was getting a bit pissed because this shirt was Alexander McQueen and he'd be damned if some overly promiscuous cheerleader ruined it.

"Well that's perfectly fine with me. We can stay out here and…talk if you want. It would be much more private that way." Fake Boobs fluttered her eyelashes ridiculously once more and her friends both smiled at Kurt in a way that he could only describe as predatory.

Kurt smiled sweetly at the girl and beckoned her forward. He then leaned in and whispered into her ear. "Honey, I'm queer as a three dollar bill. You might wanna try someone else."

Fake Boobs looked murderous. She summoned her army of skanks forward and they crouched down in a defensive manner. Then Kurt saw them change before his eyes in a way that would forever be molded into his mind.

The girls' tanned faces turned deathly pale in a matter of seconds. It looked as though the blood had completely drained from their bodies. Their eyes turned back to that same frightening scarlet from before, which either meant Kurt hadn't been crazy before or he was going even more insane by the minute. How much had he had to drink anyway?

But the strangest thing of all was their legs. Not only were they inhuman, but they didn't even match. Each of them had one leg that had turned completely bronze. The other leg was covered in shaggy brown hair, like a donkey's leg. So, they were cheerleading vampire donkeys?

All Kurt knew for sure was that a) these girls were not human and b) he was so kicking Puckerman's ass for throwing this party.

"We wanted to do this the easy way, but you've left us no choice, demigod." Fake Boobs snarled at him.

"Why so bitter? I guess it must be hard to shop for clothes when you're half brass and half ass." Kurt scrunched up his face in mock sympathy, and then mentally patted him on the back for being able to tear bitched down even when he had no idea what was going on.

Fake Boobs and the army of skanks looked pissed. "You're gonna wish you'd never said that," She then bared her fangs and lunged at Kurt.

Kurt was moving on instinct. He rolled to the ground as fast as he could and rolled off into the bushes. Hell, he stopped, dropped and rolled well enough to make any fire chief proud.

Before he had time to plan his next move the army of skanks advanced on him, hobbling on their mismatched legs.

"Come on, Kurt Hummel," Fake Boobs tried to coo him out of the bushes. "Aren't you willing to experiment a bit? The three of us could make you feel so good."

Before he could make up a witty comeback, the door slammed open, distracting all four of them. A couple stumbled out the door, drunkenly groping each other and moaning loudly. It took Kurt only one mortifying moment to realize that it was Puck and Lauren.

The two finally took an air break and realized they had an audience. Puck didn't care too much and just mouthed at Lauren's neck, but Lauren punched him in the gut and pointed at the gaping cheerleaders. Kurt's head peeped over the top of the bush, a horrified expression on his face. This was one thing he'd never wanted to see.

"What?" Puck whined. "Babe I-oh uh hey, wanna join in?" Puck asked slyly, earning him another punch to the stomach from Zizes.

Fake Boobs smirked evilly. "Well I guess we could always have you as well… after we deal with Kurt Hummel."

Puck stumbled a bit and laughed loudly. "Hey! Kurrrt Kurty Kurt's my bro." Puck smiled widely. "Isn't that so cool? Can you believe it? Brothers!" Then he stopped and got a thoughtful expression. "I don't think he'd wanna fuck any of you though. 'Mm sorry but he only likes dick."

Kurt choked on the drink that he was still drinking, for whatever reason. "Noah, you can't just say things like that!" Kurt screeched, standing up.

It was only when five pairs of eyes turned to stare at him that he realized he just brought all the attention back to him and gave away his position. Shit.

As Fake Boobs slowly approached him again, Kurt looked around fro anything that could help. All he saw was trees, and if he'd had a chainsaw to actually cut down one of the trees and use it, he'd just use the chainsaw. He tried to look to Puck and Lauren for help, but they'd gone back to making out against the front door. Assholes.

One of the skanks was the fist to reach him. With no time to think, Kurt took his beer bottle and smashed it over her head as hard as he could. Since she was still staggering a bit, he jammed the sharpened end of the bottle into her throat. The vampire goat demon thing fell to the ground and transformed into dust.

"No! What have you done? She was a perfectly good servant!" Fake Boobs screeched, baring her fangs even more. Lauren and Puck watched on in horror at the scene before them. Well, Lauren did. Puck was just giggling at everything and trying to dance with Lauren.

For the third time since coming out here for air, the door slammed open. On the porch, there was a panicked looking Artie and a very determined looking Rachel. And then Artie stood up out of his chair and ran across the yard.

Seriously, what the fuck?

"Kurt! Catch!" His crippled-or maybe not?-friend pulled a small object from his pocket and chucked it in Kurt's direction.

Kurt caught it easily and observed the hippo broach that had just been thrown at him. It was a nice accessory, but it didn't really go with his current get up. What the hell was he supposed to do with this?

Then the brunet realized his friend was still shouting orders at him and tuned back in. Artie gestured to the broach and shouted "The button! Press the button in the middle!"

With no time to spare, Kurt pressed his thumb into the center of the broach. He watched in amazement as the accessory turned into a bronze sword. Now if Kurt actually knew how to use this, he'd be all set to take down the HBIC.

Speaking of, Fake Boobs was right in front of him now, baring her fangs. Fast as lightning, she snapped at his neck.

At the last minute, though, Kurt swiped the sword forward clumsily. All he managed to do was chop off some of her hair, which looked like it was on fire and seriously when did that happen? At least she was distracted.

Her face turned even paler and she narrowed her eyes at Kurt. Oh shit, this bitch was in a rage. Not that Kurt could blame her; he'd murder anyone that even touched his hair.

She came at him even faster this time, this time holding Kurt in place with her handsy little paws. She sunk her fake, manicured claws into his sides, effectively keeping Kurt in place. He looked around frantically for his sword, and sighed when he realized he'd dropped it when she grabbed him.

Fake Boobs smirked triumphantly and nosed at Kurt's now-exposed neck. She leaned back, preparing to go in for the kill, when suddenly she fell with a loud clank!

Artie stood-which was the strangest part-above the cheerleader, beating her to the ground with a fold-up chair from the party. She groaned in defeat and crumbled to the ground. Artie then turned to Kurt.

"It's not dead yet. You need to use the sword." Artie tilted his head toward Kurt's jeans pocket. "It should be back in your pocket now."

Kurt knew that was ridiculous because he clearly remembered dropping said sword in the bushes. However, even before he reached into his skin tight jeans pocket, he could feel the metal clasp digging into his thigh.

He pulled out the hippo broach and pushed the button. The sword grew to full size before Kurt lifted it and jerkily jabbed it into the fake Cheerio's chest.

Fake Boobs crumpled to dust before his eyes, and Kurt was almost sad to see her go. Sure, she'd been trying to suck his blood or something, but it was fun screwing with her.

Over near the porch Rachel was taking care of the other vampire donkey monster with a knife. It looked as though Puck and Lauren had left at some point during the ruckus, which was probably for the best. Hopefully they were both trashed enough to forget this whole thing, even if Kurt sadly wasn't.

Suddenly it all hit Kurt like a slushy to the face. He'd just killed someone. No, it wasn't even a someone, it was a something. Oddly, the first coherent thought process that entered his mind was 'There is no way Gina is letting me stay here now.' This was quickly followed by 'Fuck you, Puckerman, for having this damn party.'

Kurt must have fallen to his knees during his revelation, because Artie was helping him up now. Kurt opened his mouth then closed it, trying to figure out what to ask first.

"What the fuck is going on?" Well, that was a pretty broad question, but it seemed as good as any at the moment.

"They've found you," Artie said gravely as Rachel approached them, frowning slightly. They were both looking at Kurt like they were about to tell him that aliens had invaded earth and he was being sacrificed for the greater good.

"Wait, what? Who found me, the cheerleading team from hell?" Kurt asked.

"Those Cheerios were empousai, servants of Hecate. They're just one breed of monster out of many that will probably find you sooner rather than later," Rachel explained.

"They can smell you out by your blood," Artie continued. "The scent of demigod is really strong here, so it was only a matter of time before they found you."

"Demigods? You mean like the children that gods have through one night stands with humans, only to leave them behind and ignore them in favor of their actual spouses and fully-god children?" Kurt asked, trying to remember everything he learned from Latin class, before he switched to French.

"I guess that's one way of putting it, yes" Artie grimaced.

"And what, I'm one?"

"That's about right."

Kurt looked serious for a moment, and then burst out laughing. Artie had to be fucking with him. Kurt didn't even believe in God, so why should he believe in gods, plural?

But even Kurt couldn't deny that it kind of made sense. It would at least explain why he'd never met his father. And why so many strange things always happened to him, because this was not the first sticky situation he'd gotten into.

There was that time in fourth grade when Kurt went to Clementon Park with his old school in New Jersey. All he'd wanted was to go in the water park, but the park managers were having issues with one of the slides. So Kurt figured maybe he could sneak into the water park and take a look at the water controls himself.

He managed to get the water moving again, but how was he supposed to know the whole water tank would explode and wash out the whole amusement park?

Needless to say, he got expelled, and banned from Clementon Park.

And there was the time he'd seen those ghostly spirits in the apartment in Chicago. He may have mentioned it in passing to Mrs. Squires, but he was only six. How was he supposed to know she believed all of that supernatural bullshit and would send him back, claiming he was bringing 'unfriendly presences' into her home?

Overall, Kurt had seen some strange shit in sixteen years of living. Still, that didn't mean that he was a demigod.

Did it?

Finally Kurt just shook his head, partly in disbelief and partly to bring his head out of the past. Artie was looking at him expectantly and Rachel…had disappeared.

"Where did Rachel go?" Kurt decided to distract them both from their previous conversation. It worked as Artie's gaze turned toward the house, where the party was still going hard.

"She went to get something. Listen, Kurt, you can't stay here," Artie said gently.

Kurt frowned. "Um, I live here? Where else would I stay?"

Artie sighed. "Kurt, it's too dangerous. You need to be with others like you. You need to train so you can fight off other monsters. Most of all, you need to get out of this town before the real bad guys find you."

Kurt just shook his head some more. No, he couldn't leave now. What about glee club? They'd won Sectionals, and Kurt was really looking forward to going to Regionals. Mr. Schue even said he might get a solo this time.

What about Gina? She'd been so good to him and always tolerated his expensive taste in clothing. She definitely wasn't his mother, but he cared about her. And what about Puck? McKinley's resident badass might never admit it, but he needed Kurt. Who else would make sure he stayed out of trouble?

And Kurt needed his brother.

Before he could protest, Rachel rejoined them on the lawn. She was gingerly carrying the bird cage that held Kurt's pet bird, Pavarotti. Pavarotti was given to Kurt as a Christmas present last year from Artie. It may seem stupid to other people, but sometimes when Kurt was feeling really angry or lonely, he just sat and ranted to Pavarotti for hours. It was soothing, and Kurt considered the bird one of his friends.

"Okay we're ready to go now," Rachel stated. She then opened the cage, ignoring Kurt's protests, and the bird flew out from the metal bars.

That's when Pavarotti stated to grow. You'd think Kurt would have been used to seeing things transform into other things by this point in the night, but his jaw still dropped as his pet bird grew increasingly larger at a rapid pace.

The bird's feet compacted together to form hooves and its legs grew tenfold. Suddenly, there stood before Kurt a graceful Pegasus, with pure white fur, a swooshing tail and beautifully crafted wings.

Hey, Kurt.

Kurt jumped at the male voice. He looked around for anyone who may've joined in on the fun, but the only people around was himself, Artie and Rachel. Then with a sharp intake of breath, Kurt realized the voice was coming from Pavarotti. And it was inside his head.

God, Kurt really needed to ask Puck what was in these drinks.

"Okay, time to go," Rachel clapped her hands together to get Kurt's attention. "We need to get you to Camp Half Blood right away."

Kurt's face fell. "Wait!" They looked at him expectantly-and maybe a bit annoyed in Rachel's case. "Can I just say goodbye to Puck first?"

Both of their expressions softened. "Of course," Artie whispered soothingly. "We'll be right out here waiting for you."

Kurt nodded in thanks and jogged back into the party.

Everyone was even more trashed now, if that was even possible. The dancing was sloppier, with a lost less coordination and a lot more groping. Some girl was giving a strip tease on the coffee table and a bunch of jocks were wolf whistling and throwing dollar bills at her.

With a brief yet thorough search, Kurt eliminated the living room from his list of places where Puck may be. Kurt took a deep breath as he descended the stair, mentally preparing himself for the monstrosity that most likely would be his basement.

Jesus Christ, it looked even worse down here. Plastic cups and –Kurt shuddered-used condoms littered the floor. Liquid that looked suspiciously like Jack Daniels and blue cool aid stained the carpet and Kurt just knew those stains would never come out.

The music was turned up super loud and people were grinding to the beat. Body shots were being taken off of a Cheerio on the coffee table and this girl Jenna who was in the celibacy club was doing some completely not celibate things with Rick "The Stick" Nelson.

Even more jocks were down here, and they appeared to be playing football with one of Gina's vases. Kurt rushed over, tackled the guy cradling the vase, and took it to hide somewhere else. The guys looked disappointed for a moment before they found something else to entertain themselves in their drunken state.

Puck was finally spotted in the corner, with some girl in his lap as he lounged in a bean bag chair. Kurt stalked over to them and got rid of the girl as politely as he could.

"Excuse me, but I need you to leave so I can have a word with Noah. I promise this won't take long, and then the two of you can do whatever filthy deeds you want. But for now, I need you to close your legs and get off hi lap so I can actually look him in the eye while I talk to him."

The girl pouted, but then ran off to go dance with some other guy. Puck looked pissed for a moment, but Kurt just pulled him out of the chair and dragged him back upstairs.

Once they found a relatively quiet hallway, Kurt let go of Puck's arm. He then looked at Puck for a moment, and fell into his arms, hugging him tightly.

Puck looked confused, but hugged him back anyway.

"Hey, man. Wh-what's…uh…up? Do I ne-need to kick someone's ass?" Puck stumbled over his words. "Cause I-I would…huh. I can't 'member what I was gonna say."

Puck looked upset for a moment but then brightened up when he saw the cup he was holding in his hand. He chugged the rest of it, and then pouted when he went to drink it again and realized there was none left.

Kurt let go of Puck and smiled at him fondly.

"Look, Puck, you probably won't remember this, but I have to go away for awhile." Puck stared at him, obviously confused. Kurt took a deep breath and continued on. "I don't know when I'll be coming back or-or if I will be back. But I just want you to know that even if we weren't the most conventional family, I still consider you my brother. And I just want you to know that I love you, okay?" Kurt looked into Puck's hazy eyes, praying to a bunch of gods he didn't believe in that Puck would by some miracle remember this conversation in the morning.

Puck grinned, looking almost like a child. "Love you too, Hummel." Then he smirked. "That's why y-you need to get laid sometime, okay? Got a friend who c'n help you get some ass…" He trailed off and looked around, as if this 'friend' would suddenly pop out of the hallway closet, complete with drinks fro all three of them.

Kurt smiled fondly and pulled Puck into another quick hug. "Take care of yourself, okay?" Kurt whispered. "Try to stay out of trouble."

With that, Kurt sent him one last glance before heading back out the door, maybe for the last time.

Artie, Rachel, and Pavarotti were waiting in the same place as before. No one said anything; Artie just clapped him on the back sympathetically. Kurt smiled sadly and waited for the next instructions.

"So, what now?" Kurt asked after a moment of silence.

Artie and Rachel shared a quick nod and then Artie…started taking off his pants.

"Whoa, Artie. No need for that." Kurt protested, but then faded off when he saw not smooth human legs, but brown fur followed by hooves. After a moment of Kurt staring, rather rudely, Artie cleared his throat.

"I'm a Satyr," Artie offered as explanation before hopping onto Pavarotti's back. Rachel got on in front of him, leaving enough room so that Kurt would sit in front with Artie taking the rear.

Kurt realized he should probably get used to these types of things happening and shrugged. He mantled the Pegasus, and Pav kicked up his front legs. With one last look at Kurt's home of the past year, he communicated with Pav to get going. They took off, soaring into the air and far away from Lima, Ohio.