Day 3: charm

The headlights skittered over the Hummel's garage, settling like narrowing eyes as Blaine pulled into the driveway.

He cut the engine like he was pulling a plug, the abrupt silence echoing the drop in his adrenaline not four hours prior.

It had been a rough case.

Blaine's dad didn't like to ask him for favors. He knew Blaine's history with violence, how he tensed when he was approached by groups of three. How he could only lands his fists on a bag, even if the hit was hard and accurate. Blaine's dad knew that his world should be kept apart from his son's. Blaine was best kept to show tunes and blazers and being the front man of an a Capella choir. Blaine's dad wanted Blaine to have that.

But Blaine's dad was Dean Winchester and he couldn't really afford to pass up favors.

"We just need you to watch this kid." Dean had explained, standing on Blaine's stoop on Friday. "We're too old now to be hanging around a sixteen year-old girl but we need eyes on her. Can you help us?"

Blaine had had a date with Kurt that weekend. He'd had plans. But his father had gripped his shoulders and looked him in the eye and asked for his help. How could Blaine have said no?

Blaine lay his head on the steering wheel in the driveway of Kurt's house. He shut his eyes and took deep, steadying breaths.

The girl's mom had been a ruguru. Now she was an orphan. Or she was an orphan again. She was adopted into that family, which is why she was still alive. No danger of her going savage like her mom.

It had been a rough case.

Blaine had had to be the one to tell her. About monsters and her parents and his father who had been the one to torch her mom. She was going to live with her dad's sister now. At least she didn't have to go back to an orphanage.

Blaine took one more deep breath in, collecting all of the fear and grief and guilt into that breath, and then released it. It shuddered on the way out.

He reached into his pocket, his fingers searching for the cool metal chain he'd picked up on his way back to Lima. The links in the chain were fine, but strong. Silver. It was long enough that the pendant at the end would be able to hide under the neckline of even Kurt's lowest tops.

Blaine's next breath was steadier. Kurt.

Blaine got out of the car, careful not to slam the door and disturb the sleepy neighborhood. It wasn't an obscene hour but one of those sleepy Sunday nights when the hours stretch and shrink, teasing the arrival of another Monday. He padded up to the door, his boots not making any trouble of the recently swept walkway. He shot off a text to Kurt, hoping Kurt would get it before he reached the door.

Blaine should never doubt Kurt. As soon as Blaine cleared the steps of the porch, the door was swinging open.

For a moment, Blaine forgot all of the weekend's drama, all of his anxiety, and he grinned. His face lit up like dry driftwood, ignited by the spark in Kurt's own smile and the warmth in his eyes.

"Blaine!" He ran forward and threw hi arms around Blaine's shoulders, burying his face in his neck. Blaine's arms came up immediately, arms wrapping around Kurt and pulling him tighter into his chest.

He'd gotten hugs when he'd said goodbye to his father and uncle after the case. Hugging Uncle Sammy was like being lifted by the warmest, friendliest sasquatch on the planet; his huge body and long arms wrapping fully around Blaine and made him feel safe. Hugging his dad was like the end of Return of the King when the entire kingdom bows to the Hobbits. It game him that same feeling of being praised and loved, like his father was proud of him. Dean didn't withhold affection from his son – he'd grown up with a father like that and he worked hard to overcome his issues with expressing emotion to give Blaine the father he needed – but Dean was better at expressing himself through touch. His hugs were the words of pride he couldn't express.

So Blaine had been hugged, he'd felt loved, not even three hours before. But Kurt's hug was the best. Kurt's hug felt like coming home.

"I thought you were with your dad! I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow," Kurt spoke into his neck, his hands coming up to smooth over Blaine's curls. He'd forgotten to bring hair gel to Cincinnati and hadn't had time to redo his hair before seeing Kurt.

"I know, it's kind of late," Blaine answered, pulling away a bit, hands stroking over Kurt's sides. "But I had to see you."

Kurt's smile softened, resting his forehead on Blaine's. Blaine closed his eyes, just for a moment. Home Home Home Home.

He reached into his pocket, opening his eyes to look back at Kurt. "I also have something for you."

Kurt let go of Blaine in hi excitement, clapping his hands daintily. "A present?"

Blaine chuckled, pulling out the necklace. "Hold out your hands."

He did so and Blaine slowly lowered the chain into his waiting palms.

Kurt didn't say anything, his fingers moving curiously over the etchings in the pendant. Blaine could only watch him inspect the gift for a few seconds before he started babbling.

"It's a protection symbol. My dad made it."

"Is your dad a satanist?"

Blaine laughed, nervously. "The charm is iron to… represent… repelling evil spirits."

Kurt smiled at Blaine, but not in a way that made Blaine think he was taking the necklace seriously. "Blaine, I know we haven't been dating that long, but you know I don't have any outfits to match this with."

Blaine scratched his neck. "Well, it's not really supposed to be seen?" Kurt blanched. "I know! I know, which is why I got gray tones to go with your slate aesthetic." Kurt nodded approvingly. "But it's not really an accessory. It's like a shield. You keep it on you, under your clothes, every day. To keep me close so I can– so I can protect you."

Something in Blaine's tone made Kurt change the way he looked at him. He stepped closer, reaching for Blaine's elbow. "Blaine?"

Blaine swallowed, letting his chin drop to his chest. "When I was visiting my dad this weekend… I met up with a friend. This friend just lost," Blaine's breath hitched. "Both of her parents. And she was messed up, Kurt. She was really messed up. And I couldn't do anything."

Kurt took another step forward, reaching out his other hand to Blaine's arm. Blaine could feel the weight of the pendant through his sleeve.

"I know it's stupid," he said, taking the necklace from Kurt and opening the clasp. "But it would make me feel better if you would wear it. If I knew you were protected." He offered his hands, each holding one end of the necklace, hoping Kurt would step forward for Blaine to put it on him.

Kurt didn't disappoint.

He reached out one hand to cup Blaine's jaw, bringing him in for a brief but firm kiss. "Of course, Blaine. I'd love to wear it." And with that, he turned around, hunching a bit so Blaine could reach.

Blaine's relief was so instantaneous he thought he was going to pass out. Instead, he swung his arm over Kurt's head and reattached the clasp, immediately moving to hug Kurt from behind once his hands were free.

"Thank you, Kurt."

Kurt gripped Blaine's hand, turning back around so Blaine could see the charm.

It wasn't a pretty thing. It was dull gray, like most iron, hanging on a sparkly, fine, silver chain. The carvings in it were crude and shallow, Dean not being the most experienced charm maker. Blaine was hoping it was only temporary. That one day he could tell Kurt everything and Kurt could get an anti-possession tattoo, like the one Blaine had, very small, on the underside of his hip bone.

Until then, the anti-possession charm would have to work.

Blaine took it in his hand, standing close enough to Kurt that it didn't tug on the chain at all, and kissed it before pulling out Kurt's collar and dropping it beneath his shirt. "Now I'll always be with you."

Kurt snorted, his hands once again coming to wrap around Blaine's shoulders. "Yeah, you and your dad."

Blaine laughed, dropping his forehead against Kurt's. "Yeah, well that's not such a bad thing. You will never be safer than when Dean Winchester is with you."