A/N: So, I apologize for the long wait, but I needed to figure out how this was going to go. I appreciate all of you that favorited this story! I logged onto my email and saw all of the messages, it made me happy to know that you all are liking it! I also love all of you that gave me insight as to how I am to make this happen, it helped me get over some major questions I've been afraid to ask. I resolved to not necessarily make this a continuous plot, but more of stories while there is some time jumps. I may have two or three chapters that link together, but I will give proper warnings for those instances. I don't know how long this will continue, but I really love reviews. Like REALLY love reviews. This chapter, I decided I needed to give a little more backstory as to the whole basis of Kurt's powers, so that may fill in some gaps. I focused on plot, since I know smut scenes can be a little. . . taxing, at least for me.

Rating: M for more gore and a smut scene. Oh, and another character dies, so. . . if you are not inclined to this, leave, posthaste!

Staring up into the moon, it was so beautiful. It shed transparent light through the slats of the barn's wood walls. It was full, the moon, deep, distant and a glaring eye at the two boys. The both of them sat side-by-side on the windowsill. One was drenched in the smell and dark tint of blood, his eyes blown wide and bulging.

He seemed to be having a staring contest with the eye in the sky, only blinking to turn to the boy beside him. Their hands clasped tightly in the warm air.

"Oh, look, fireflies," the boy next to him said, pointing down to the brush. Very faintly, small lights blinked through the weeds like quiet stars. The bloody boy was astounded, it took him a lot of concentration to see the small things and yet here, his boyfriend of one year, stared nonchalantly into the night.

"Yeah, they sure are pretty," Blaine remarked, running a hand through the chestnut locks before him. Kurt stiffened slightly, the strong and overwhelming scent of blood wafting up his nose.

Since Blaine had showed him that first kill, Rachel Berry, half a year ago, he had assumed it would get easier. He had felt that rush while Blaine kissed him, touched him with those tainted hands. But, lately, he had been warier than ever of his boyfriend's actions. Blaine had been growing increasingly dissatisfied with his victims.

New scars littered Kurt's skin every day, and he was finding it harder to get Blaine to calm down. The wild look in his eyes appeared more and more often. Just now, Blaine had finished off some nameless man, and he had the most crazed look, such a hungry gaze. Kurt was attempting to direct him away from that at the moment.

The loving boy seemed to be fading before his eyes, and it hurt him to see that.

"Kurt," Blaine said suddenly, Kurt's heart jumped at the sound of his name.

"Yeah, Blaine?"

"Let's get out of here, go to my dorm? It is a Friday, so everyone's gone home for the weekend" he said, the need in his voice cracking through the indifferent tone.

Kurt gave a weak nod and went to wait in the air conditioned splendor of the car while Blaine disposed of the body.

In spite of all these disheartening facts, he could not, would not leave Blaine. He was the only human being, aside from his dad, that accepted him, even loved him in spite of it. He still remembered the day when some elementary school ruffians were taking turns shoving a young Kurt into a wall. Each time came harder. His brain rattled and pounded inside his skull painfully. One particularly hard shove grated his hand and lower arm across the stucco siding, causing the boys to stop while the blood and mangled skin became prevalent as Kurt cradled his arm defensively. Through all of the laughter and his tears, he hadn't bothered to cover and hide the mending qualities to his skin. Moments passed, and Kurt stood shakily, rolling the sleeve down on his brand-new, baby-like skin. All the blood still stained his clothes, but the boys had stared with a mixture of disgust or terror. They had backed away, their eyes bulging while they beat a hasty retreat.

No one had told the teachers about his "gift", but Kurt had sworn to himself to never, ever, allow anyone to find out about it.

"They'll dig into 'ya," Kurt remembered his father telling him as he sat on the sofa, crying softly, "You just need to not let 'em get you down. Let your true personality shine through, show them how amazing and talented you are. . .alright?"

A very pregnant pause followed while Kurt sniffled into a tissue.

"Make your mother proud, Kurt."

Kurt only shook his head, giving a reassuring smile while Burt gave a slightly awkward hug.

"She was like me, right Dad?"

"Yes, well. . .you probably got most of you looks from her. . . Oh, your. . .abilities? Yes, she had a particular. . .knack for this type of thing. I tell 'ya, she could even get rid of little scrapes that I had, too. She was a piece of work, that she was," he had had a fond and distant gleam in his eye. Kurt stared back in awe and wonder.

"Wow, she could even get rid of hurts on you? Wow, Dad! I hope I can be as strong as she was," Kurt proclaimed, happy thoughts swirling in his head. But now had a sad expression plastered on his face.

"Kurt, kiddo, I don't want you using you power, except on yourself. I know you want to be like Mom, but I want you to be safe, for now. Can you promise me, Kurt?"

"Yes, Dad," Kurt murmured solemnly, not wanting to cause his father any trouble.

Now that Kurt was under oath, he had to survive through middle school and high school, trying to be as unaware as possible that something was pumping through his veins, coated and embedded in his very DNA that made him differ from everyone else in his school.

Being gay hadn't helped his attempt at normalcy either, to tell you the truth. The caste and hierarchy of high school was absolute. If you don't want to rise to the top, you were destined to sink lower, becoming cemented into some social group or pool of like-minded beings. Kurt was fine, being with the people who accepted him, though he never dared to tell any soul his even deeper secret. There was no telling how raging teenage hormones mixed with the shock of finding out your friend was some sort of healing magician. Kurt didn't bother to guess the outcomes.

Kurt reasoned that being shoved into a locker because of his sexuality was far better than being ostracized for his secret. In the meantime, he could remain happy with his boyfriend. Despite his cravings for flesh.

Kurt was jolted from his lingering thoughts by the hooded figure of Blaine emerging finally from the barn. They couldn't stay here much longer, not if they didn't want to get caught. Out in the country, people either forgot about things quickly, or picked them up just as quick.

Blaine gave a dazzling smile, Kurt contained a shudder, seeing a dab of blood on the Warbler's lip.

Pulling Kurt into a kiss, Blaine deepened it to the point where Kurt broke away with that blood smudged down and onto his tongue. It tasted strangely sweet and bitter, metallic and heated while he swallowed. Blaine chuckled, switching the car out of park and speeding down and out onto the paved road. Blaine kept peering at Kurt from the corner of his eye, Kurt glanced at the windshield, wanting to be lost in thought.

"What're you thinking about?" Blaine asked, a knowing smirk playing on his features. Kurt shifted and lifted his eyes to meet those hazel orbs.

"Nothing. . .us, or everything, actually," Kurt felt his fingers become entwined with Blaine's. The calloused fingers grasping his slender ones.

"That's good, I kind of was, too." Blaine released Kurt's hand and began to fish for something in his pants pocket. Kurt couldn't help but cock an eyebrow as a brass shimmer glinted in the light of the clock and radio.

"It's nothing, really, just a little trinket," Blaine said meekly, putting a brilliantly intricate pocket watch into Kurt's lap. Kurt's jaw hit the floor, remembering Blaine using it occasionally at Warbler's practice. The gift made his heart warm, and he found himself hugging Blaine, his hands cuddling the adorable and irresistible man before him.

"Blaine, I love you."

"I love you, too, Kurt. I love you so much," Blaine said with a sincere look in his eyes, and Kurt could tell that he only wanted to be with this man.

Kurt ground his hips furiously upward into the already unclothed abdomen above him. Blaine moaned and growled into the kiss that was all tongue and passion. In one movement, Kurt's mouth flooded with blood, his tongue continuing to wrangle with Blaine's. The curly-haired boy sucked, making small, happy sounds as the liquid life dribbled down their chins.

Kurt yelped and writhed even more at the painful display, and he tried to calm Blaine, who was currently working off both of their underpants.

Without warning, Blaine pressed a finger hard and fast inside of Kurt, causing the boy under him to absolutely come undone at it. Another finger followed, and Kurt could feel the fight and energy in him draining at the force that was Blaine Anderson. With a flash of white teeth, Kurt's upper neck sprayed and slicked their bodies with the cascading blood. Though Kurt lost consciousness for a few moments, he regained it to find his eyes wide and intense. Adrenaline surging and bucking with all abandon, Blaine cackled into Kurt's neck at the sight. All this time, he had been tearing and drinking straight from Kurt.

Kurt couldn't help it, whenever he'd get injuries this bad, his nervous system sent all of his instincts into overdrive, and he couldn't calm down for hours. Blaine seemed to know this, and used it to his advantage, keeping Kurt in his bed for the duration of the time.

"Oh. God!" Kurt yelped out, feeling the fingers come out and something much harder and thicker replace it. Blaine grunted, directing Kurt to lift his hips, and grasp the headboard. Kurt did so until his knuckles were white with frustration and anxiety.

"Go!" Kurt exclaimed, and with that assurance, Blaine buried him up to the base. Kurt shrieked, the muscles conforming around the thick member.

"So. Fucking. Tight." Blaine said, beginning to slowly thrum and thrust with pleasure, the spilt blood heating up and slicking their bodies anew. Grunts and growls spilled out of Blaine like his own language, conveying all of the words he couldn't say to Kurt. Kurt could only suppose what he was wanting to say.

"I'm so close, babe," Blaine said, thrusting and rolling his hips with sharp snaps as he did it once, twice, and came hard into his lover. A few moments later, Kurt followed with a high whine and all muscles tensed. They collapsed into a sweating heap, the air heated and hazy with lust and fresh blood.

"Baby," Blaine said, cupping Kurt's cheek and watching intently as the wounds he made were disappearing slowly.

"Yeah, Blaine?"

"I want you to come and watch next week again. Meet me next Wednesday? I promise you'll like this one, okay?" Blaine had the sweetest and most convincing gaze that it was almost impossible to say anything at all, let alone something discouraging.

"O-Okay, it's a date, then," Kurt said with a little giggle, trying to cover up the twinge of intrigue of who the victim will be.

That Wednesday, Kurt pulled up to the regular, decrepit barn and felt the butterflies collecting in his stomach. Blaine's car was already there, parked behind a grove of trees and out of the view of anyone that would pull in. Kurt followed suit, parking his car next to Blaine's.

Kurt attempted to calm his fidgeting fingers, wringing them uselessly as he slowly swung the barn door open. The dark shadows inside cloaked the figure of Blaine. The victim was against the beam again, and Kurt strained to see who it was. Blaine saw Kurt and sauntered over, grabbing him around the waist and giving him a small peck on the cheek. The blood was already staining his lips, and Kurt could only imagine how long he had been here. From the whimpers across the room, he guessed it had been awhile.

"Go on, take a look, babe," Blaine whispered hoarsely, guiding him over to the figure. With a slow, sinking feeling, he stared down into the face of Dave Karofsky, who was now blubbering into his torn letterman's jacket. Kurt felt no emotion, only stared densely at the jock.

"Isn't it just exhilarating!" Blaine said almost gleefully, "It took me quite some time, but I finally got him!"

Kurt backed away, clutching his sides with a bewildered look on his face.

Karofsky was really the target? Oh god! What was he going to do?

"B-Blaine. . .I don't want to see this," Kurt said, hoping he didn't offend Blaine too badly. He absolutely despised Karofsky, but he couldn't picture himself killing his bully. Tears beaded the corners of his eyes, and he pulled back further.

Blaine looked slightly confused, the smile was still plastered onto his face, but his eyebrows were scrunched together.

"B-But I thought. . .this would help. Kurt, you've got to be joking, you must not be thinking clearly. Come on, he can't hurt you anymore," the Warbler said, reaching out to take Kurt's hand but finding Kurt unwilling to.

Kurt just shook his head, still looking horrified.

Blaine looked from Kurt, to Karofsky, then his gaze settled on his feet. A dangerous air transpired in the cool summer air.

"Kurt, don't tell me that you feel for this. . .monster," Blaine spat, turning his attention away from the jock and facing Kurt fully, "He's shoved you down so many times and what do you do? Stand back up and ask for it again."

These words stung, but he still said nothing, closing his eyes and hoping this wasn't happening. In that split second, he heard a strangled noise, Blaine giving a yell and the thumping of a body on the dusty barn floor. Kurt opened his eyes, and screamed.

Karofsky's bindings were sawed off, and he was on top of Blaine, yelling and choking him. It was like watching a bear smother a deer, and Blaine scrabbled and yelped in pain. Kurt felt tears pour down his face, his eyes locking on a large Swiss army knife in the dust a few feet away, the tip bloodied and wicked looking.

There were no thoughts going through Kurt's head, except:

Blaine is hurt.

Blaine is hurt.

Blaine is hurting.

Help.

Knife.

Get him.

Get him.

Stab.

The blood flowed and at first Karofsky didn't notice, continuing to press all of his bodyweight onto the smaller boy, who was now making strangled noises out of his crushed windpipe.

Stab.

Karofsky reared back, clutching at his back and shoulders, getting tangled up in the man under him, that he fell over, screaming and yelling for someone. Kurt tried to contain his rage.

Stab.

It didn't work, a grimace contorted his face while Karofsky tried to shield himself, still screaming angrily. Blaine sat motionless, and Kurt brought his hand down harder, faster. He could feel the blood pumping and thrumming in his ears, but his fingers were surprisingly numb. His mind felt distant.

Stab, stab, stab, stab.

With a strangled and angry yell, Kurt brought the knife down one more time. He felt exhausted and out of breath, but Karofsky didn't move or open his eyes. He was laid in a slumped heap, the flesh of his neck mangled and his back still seeping his life into the floorboards. Kurt stared at the knife for a moment, before tossing it next to the body and scrambling to Blaine's side. He understood. Karofsky had hidden the knife in his pocket, and Blaine hadn't been as thorough with his checking routine. Typically Blaine searched his victims top to bottom, but the knife must have slipped by his scrutiny. This was a mistake, a fatal one that resulted in Blaine bleeding and almost crushed on the ground.

Kurt felt the tears come harder, and he wiped hurriedly so that he could address Blaine's injuries.

"Blaine. . . BLAINE! Answer me, where are we right now?" Kurt said, his fingers shaking with the buttons on Blaine's jacket. He lost his patience, and simply ripped until the fabric gave and the wound lay out in front of him. Blaine's eyelids fluttered as Kurt prodded the small incision near his collarbone, seeing a small amount of blood ooze out. Kurt swore to himself.

Blaine made a small noise, cut off and gravely.

"What, what is that?" Kurt was trying to think of what to do. They couldn't take him to a hospital, not covered in Karofsky's blood and half-dead. They would see through any bluff or lie in an instant, it would be suicide. Even if they could, Blaine wouldn't make the trip in this state.

"I-I. . .you, did. . .I'm so happy," Blaine stammered in between shallow breaths, a slightly lopsided smile falling onto his face.

"I know, just stay still," Kurt said with frustration, the wound was too deep. There was no way-

Heal him.

The thought stopped his frantic mind like ice, his eyes still wide and fearful. A heart stopping calm fell over him, every second seemed like an eternity. He gingerly placed both of his hands over the wound, his fingers pressing slowly into the toned skin of his lover. All of the pain and terror he felt collected and dissipated down in his gut. A strange tingling spread in pulsing waves. He didn't know a thing about what to do, but he could only guess that touching the wound had to have some effect.

'Okay, Kurt, focus,' he thought, giving a slight pressure.

He could feel the tingling and the waves building up, damming in his fingers and begging to be let out. Blaine gave a shaky breath, his chest rising less often. Kurt had half a mind to give up, but he knew he couldn't.

'There has to be something,' he exasperated at himself, lifting his hands off of Blaine for a moment.

It happened in a flash. Suddenly, all of those little pricks of pressure flew, flowed out of his fingertips. Kurt arched his back, willing every ounce of his power into that cut. He could feel it working, stitching and restoring every speck of lost blood, flesh and muscle torn or spilled. With a small spark, the wound closed with no sign of it actually being there. Blaine groaned, and sat up, rubbing his eyes. He blinked, seeing Kurt stooped over him, he stiffened, brushing the loose strands out of Kurt's eyes. Sweat poured down his face and he knew he'd used too much of his energy.

"Kurt-"

"You're back, thank god you're back," Kurt sobbed into Blaine's shoulder as he cradled his body while he broke down. He was spent, but he breathed into his, now alive and well, boyfriend, wanting to ingrain his memory and every part of him with the scent of Blaine. Blaine continued to cradle him, feeling the hole in his dress-shirt where the small blade pierced him. He understood.

"You. . .healed me, h-how?" Blaine said slowly, the weariness prevalent in both of their bodies.

"Luck, Blaine, a boatload of goddamn luck," Kurt breathed, feeling the world close around him. Only Blaine seemed framed in his vision while the rest of it faded out.

"No, just enough of you, Kurt," Blaine's eyes locked with his, and everything else blacked out, "It was just you."

A/N: Thank you kindly for reading!