Rosemont street doesn't exist as far as I know. Honestly, it was the first name I could come up with, so I used it.

Also, small warning for rude language.


Kurt bit his lip as he drove towards where he thought Rosemont Street was.

It was the address on the card. He'd vaguely known where it was, but if he were to be very honest, he felt a little lost by now. Not only because of what had happened with Finn less than one hour ago, which had left him lost with what to do with himself, but he was now literally lost as well.

He'd parked his car in a parking lot that must have been somewhere near Rosemont Street.

Not that he knew for sure, but at least now that his car was parked in a shadowy place, he could take a look around and maybe ask someone at the gas station on the other side of the road for help. And although he'd very much disliked those shadowy places ever since the attack, he didn't really think he had much choice. If his father had, by any chance, called the police and if they were driving around, searching for him, the first thing they'd have noticed was his big, black, shiny Navigator.

He hated the way he'd run out on his own father, but they were all scared of him, and even he didn't trust himself enough to know for sure he wouldn't do something like that again.

He'd become too unpredictable for himself, let alone all the people around him.

Kurt leaned his head back against the seat of his car, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, willing himself not to cry for once, just because he was scared. Instead, he turned off his car and got out, locking it as soon as he'd thrown the door close.

Cautiously, he looked around and even carefully checked all around his car and the other two standing right next to his, making sure he wasn't standing there, seconds away from a second attack. Once he was satisfied that it was safe, he turned around…

Only to see a group of disgustingly familiar jocks with red, white and black letterman jackets walking his way. Maybe they hadn't even noticed him, but next to Kurt's car were only two other cars and those guys were walking right at him. He himself was standing in front of the first one of the three, facing the open, empty parking space.

He decided quickly, turning to his left to start speed-walking towards another side of the street, but before he could even turn, he heard an awfully familiar voice, the one that had haunted him ever since the threat.

'Hey, Hummel!'

It was Karofsky, who was the exact one person Kurt wished the least to see right now.

'You looking for some fag to hook up with?'

The guys were approaching fast, and Kurt couldn't move, as if someone had used superglue to glue his feet to the ground. He felt his heartbeat quickening, and his breaths became a little panicked.

Seven or eight guys, two of them being Karofsky and Azimio, surrounded him, making him flatten against the side of the car, looking around at the guys.

This wasn't fair. He'd never, ever done or even so much as said anything wrong to them and this is what he gets for that? A bunch of idiotic jocks surrounding him, coming closer and closer with every second?

He wanted to tell himself that he wasn't going to accept that, but it was no use trying to take even one of them on his own.

This would be it.

He'd end up in the hospital for the second time in only a matter of months and he'd probably be severely bruised. Not to mention that Doctor Kusama would probably ask for permission to get a bit more DNA to do more research. And then, she'd undoubtedly find out what was going on. And who knows where he might end up then? Maybe he'd be used as some kind of experiment. They'd probably do the most horrific things with him…

But he shook his head and when he noticed how close Karofsky had gotten, all those thoughts went away. Karofsky was the only one who had gotten within touching distance, being the leader of the group and also the most threatening.

Kurt knew that, with exception of Karofsky and Azimio, the rest were all talk and not doing much more that locker slams, slushies and dumpster tosses. And while they might have been a little scary, it wasn't as terrible as those particular two.

'What's wrong, Lady? Scared?'

Kurt's eyes widened significantly, but he shook his head. Which was stupid, of course, when it was very obvious how scared he actually was.

Karofsky grinned cruelly, stepping into Kurt's personal space. He wasn't fully touching him at all, but Kurt could feel the heat of the jock's body, not to mention the stifling smell of sweat and an awful smelling cologne mixed, making Kurt almost gag.

Instead, he just swallowed audibly and he saw Karofsky smirk, obviously thinking it was only fear.

Kurt saw Karofsky lifting his hand to his throat and before he could comprehend what he was planning on doing, the scarf that he'd had wrapped around his throat constantly ever since the bandage had been taken off was pulled off his neck so hard that Kurt almost tripped and choked.

He coughed roughly and when he turned around, all the guys were quietly staring at him neck with overly disgusted looks on their faces.

'That's just gross, Hummel.'

It was one of the other guys – Beck was his name – who had said it.

Of course it stung, hearing that, which had been why Kurt had hid his neck so well, especially at school. He had never wanted to hear those words, not from his family, but especially not from people like… them.

They didn't deserve to talk to him like that, but they did either way.

Those damned jocks had always pretended that they were better than anyone else. Azimio and Karofsky in particular seemed to think they could push everyone around that they deemed to be 'less' than them. Kurt had let it happen for several years and although he was fed up with it, it wasn't as if he could do anything about it.

That was the way High School was. Jocks were supposed to treat people like Kurt, who enjoyed Glee Club, singing and fashion, like scum.

He sighed and stood upright, but almost immediately, he was pushed against his shoulder, ending in him hitting the car with a very painful force.

He saw Karofsky's face getting closer and closer and before he knew it, he was spit in the face.

Kurt stood there, intensely shocked and not very much able to move. Around him, the guys almost doubled over with laughter.

'Most pathetic thing I've ever seen…'

'He's sick!'

'Yeah, in his head!'

Suddenly, Kurt balled his fists and stood upright, growling a bit. He wasn't really sure what was happening that very moment. All he knew was that he was angry. Very, very angry. And more than sick of being made fun of.

Karofsky kept laughing, having turned his back on Kurt, instead yelling slurs about him towards his fellow teammates. He had no idea what was happening behind him.

Not a clue.

Until he realized that the other football players had stopped laughing. So he stopped, too. It was only then that he realized that they were backing off slowly, looking nothing short of absolutely terrified.

'Guys? What's up?'

It was that 'Beck'-guy who slowly raised his hand, which was shaking heavily and tried to stutter out something. He was pointing towards Karofsky.

'H-H-Hum-Hummel…'

Then, he and several others turned around and ran away, two of them tripping on their way.

Karofsky frowned as the others started walking backwards as well, all with wide-eyed, terrified looks on their faces.

'For God's sake, dude, BEHIND YOU!' Screamed Azimio, completely panicking before running away with the rest of them.

'The hell?' Karofsky muttered, until he became aware of the heavy breathing behind him, now that the other jocks weren't around to make noises.

He frowned and turned around.

It was Kurt.

But it wasn't Kurt.

No. Instead of the Kurt he knew from school, there seemed to be standing some sort of monster before him.

He didn't differ much from Kurt, though. It was still very much Kurt.

Save for the fact that his mouth was half open, showing off bright white teeth, four of which had grown considerably, especially the ones in the upper row of his teeth. His eyes were a very light blue, almost verging on white and he'd become much paler, which Karofsky hadn't thought was possible. His eyes were wider, the kind that people usually would imagine if they thought about an insane person.

His eyebrows were drawn into an angry frown and because of his paler skin, the blue veins underneath it were very visible around his temples and jaw lines.

He was still breathing heavily, until he hissed lowly and quietly under his breath.

'Asshole.'

Karofsky started to back away, shivering under Kurt's hungry gaze, which wasn't even really pointed at his face, but at his neck. Kurt grinned crazily, stepping forward.

Karofsky screamed when Kurt lunged at him, widening his mouth and almost setting his immensely sharp teeth in the bulky boy's neck.

Almost.

If it hadn't been for Kurt's conscience practically screaming at him to take control of his own body and mind and to control his urge to bite someone, he wouldn't have stopped. He would probably not even have cared if it had cost Karofsky his life and himself his freedom.

But there was still this little, very human voice that told him to stop. That told him he just needed to wait for a little longer, until he'd found help, which he hoped to find in the house of one Mrs. Bella Anderson. The woman who had promised him she'd help. Or at least had offered it, as far as he was aware of the situation.

It was that thought that made him jump back, shut his eyes and take a couple of deep breaths.

When he opened them, he realized that he'd chased away all the jocks, save for Karofsky, who was staring at him with a look that was a mix of shock, fright and disgust. It was as if he couldn't decide which one would suit the situation the best. Kurt couldn't exactly blame him.

'You're sick, Hummel. Completely nuts!' He sneered, before half walking, half running away, looking at Kurt over his shoulder every second or so.

This can't have happened. This can not possibly have been real.

Kurt kept repeating the mantra for at least five minutes.

But in the end, it only made him realize that he was about ten minutes late.

The pale boy shook his head, trying to clear it of every single, scary thought that still seeped through. Every thought he'd had when he attacked Karofsky.

Then, he cautiously looked in the glass of his car, at his reflection, afraid of what he might see.

Everything seemed to have gone back to normal, though. His teeth were normal, there was no abnormally angry frown to be seen on his face, his eyes had gone back to the same colour, he'd gotten a bit more colour in his entire face, it even verged on a bit rosy. His veins could barely be seen, hidden underneath his skin, as they should be.

He scrunched up his nose at the rosy tint on his cheeks, though. It made him look like some kind of porcelain doll, easily to be broken and precious to look at.

No wonder that that was his nickname for Sue.

But he couldn't bring himself to be touched by the nickname. Usually, Sue used nicknames to sneer at people, but for some reason, he was cared for by her. Maybe that was because he'd managed to win Nationals for her during cheering competition season. Or maybe it was because she felt a bit sorry for him, because she knew he was being bullied and because she knew he'd almost lost his dad once.

Come to think of it, his father must be really worried by now. It wasn't like Kurt to run away like that. To drive away from his father, who clearly did not want him to leave.

He loved his father, he really, truly did. He was, after all, the one who put back the pieces in their family when his mother had passed away, even though he himself had been hurting as well at the time.

But Kurt couldn't bring himself to go back home. Not after barely managing to keep himself from ripping Karofsky's throat apart and not after attacking Finn and actually biting him.

So, instead, he pushed himself off his car, which he'd been leaning against, and made his way towards where he'd seen the sign 'Rosemont street'.


About five minutes later, Kurt found himself outside a door, which had a name painted on it.

'Bella and Lucas Anderson.'

Well, at least he had the right house. But he wasn't sure if he had the courage to actually knock on the door, no matter how much he was cursing himself for not bringing a thicker coat or proper shoes. What if he had the wrong house or he wasn't actually welcome at this time?

He shuddered heavily, turning around and had only just decided to forget about it, when he noticed movements out of the corner of his eye.

He turned his head towards the window, where a dark curtain was moving just a little bit, but it was obvious someone had seemingly been watching him. He bit his lip and was about to start walking away when he heard someone unlocking the door behind him. He froze.

'Are you Kurt?'

Honestly, he was a little afraid to turn around, but he had even a greater fear that he might decide to bite someone, whoever was standing behind him.

Suddenly, he felt a hand being put on his shoulder and he jerked away, turning around at last.

His mouth fell open at the sight.

In front of him was a boy, most likely around his age. He was rather short, at least a couple of centimetres shorter than Kurt himself. He was also very, very beautiful.

He had eyes that had a colour that was somewhere between coffee and a tiny bit of greenish brown. Those eyes were pretty big and adorable.

His nose was a little crooked, but in a natural way. It didn't really look like it had been broken or anything, but even though it was a little crooked, it fitted very well in his face.

His lips were a little parted. They were pink and looked immensely kissable.

He had very dark brown, curly hair that looked as if it asked for Kurt to tangle his fingers in. It seemed very soft as well.

Not to mention his body.

The boy had a pretty broad chest, perfectly accentuated by the tight, white shirt he was wearing. His waist, though, was tiny. It made Kurt wonder if the boy had abs or not.

And his arms. Kurt appreciated the way the sleeves were rolled up until the boy's elbow. His arms were tanned a bit, just like his face.

Kurt sighed a little, appreciating the view in front of him.

Until he realized that the boy had been staring at him as well and probably had noticed him staring. Staring very obviously, so, too.

As soon as he could, he ducked his head, choosing instead to stare at the ground.

'Um, are you Kurt?' The boy asked again and it was only then that Kurt realized he'd never answered him.

'Uh, yeah…' He felt so awkward, not sure what to say or do or where to look, but at the same time, he thought it was a little rude to not look the boy in the eye. So he just looked right past him, much too aware of his own cheeks reddening at a quick pace.

'I'm Blaine. Blaine Anderson. Come in, it's much too cold to be standing outside.'

Blaine took a step back and after a moment of hesitation, Kurt stepped into the warmth of a house much like his own, but at the same time, nothing like it at all.

The walls in the hallway were from a light colour of wood. On Kurt's right side, there was a cupboard under the stairs, that began at the end of the hallway, for about two and a half step, before it turned about ninety degrees to the right.

At the end of the hallway, a large mirror in an old-fashioned frame, a sallow kind of yellow. He could see himself, which he was very thankful for, glad he was at least somewhat normal. He could see the boy, Blaine, he was quick to correct himself, as well. So that meant Blaine was normal, right?

Underneath it, there was a simple, yet slightly shabby wooden table, a few shades darker than the wood on the walls.

On it, there were a few items, like keys, a plant, and a phone holder, although the phone that should be standing in it was missing.

Just as Kurt looked at the phone, he realized something.

He was alone.

In a house.

With a boy he didn't know.

Said boy was also ridiculously handsome and his mother was the only one who could possibly help him. How, he didn't even know, but if this was his only chance to get his life back on track as normal as possible, he'd have to take it.

He took a deep breath and almost jumped several feet in the air when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

'Hey, are you alright? You seem very… off. Very jumpy, if you don't mind me saying…'

Blaine trailed off as Kurt looked at him, before Kurt shook his head.

He should really not be so jumpy. He himself was the one that everyone else should be afraid of, yet he was also the one that jumped at every single noise that could possibly be heard.

'I'm- I'm fine.'

Blaine narrowed his eyes. It was so obvious that there was something wrong with Kurt, if his quivering voice was any indication. Hiding his worry and shock over what had happen less than ten minutes ago was useless. The fear of himself was suffocating him. He himself was surprised he hadn't asked his father to lock him up already.

'You're not.'

It wasn't a question. Blaine merely shook his head, smiling at Kurt and not mentioning the fact that Kurt looked immensely scared and nervous.

'Can I take your coat?'

'My- Oh… Um… I don't really know how long I'll be staying, actually.'

'Well, my mother won't be home for another five minutes and usually, she's a little late. So you can wait in the living room?'

Kurt contemplated this for a moment, before taking his coat off, shivering a little. The air that had come in through the door had cooled down the hallway as well. He'd never really paid attention to this, but by now, he was hyper aware of almost every little detail about the relatively tiny hallway. Suddenly, the coat was pulled out of his hands and he turned his head to find Blaine hanging it in the closet under the staircase, closing the door.

'Come on, I'll show you the living room.'

A warm hand was put on the lower part of his back and Kurt gasped, causing Blaine to frown worriedly at him.

'Are you sure you're alright?'

'Yeah… Yeah, just…'

Kurt bit his lip, somewhere afraid of telling Blaine what was going on with him.

'Just what?'

It hadn't sounded annoyed or anything like it. It hadn't sounded bad or disgusted, but just curious.

Only curious, which was something Kurt didn't really get from people who weren't his friends.

But he did not know for sure if he could trust this boy, even if his big, beautiful, hazel eyes begged him to think differently. So he went with the obvious reason for reacting the way he did.

'Usually, people avoid touching or coming near me completely. That's the feeling they give me, at least.'

'Why?'

'… I guess they just want to avoid "catching the gay".'

'So you're gay?'

Kurt nodded, somewhere a little afraid to look at Blaine as he beckoned for him to sit on the brown leather couch in the living room. So he sat down first, before daring to look up at him. He felt the couch dip next to him, when Blaine sat down as well.

But Blaine still had that very friendly look in his eyes. He even smiled at him.

It wasn't any of the judgment Kurt had expected. No disgust, tight smiles or pulling his hands away as if he'd been burned.

'Me too.'

'… You're gay?'

Blaine showed him a full smile, showing off his beautiful, white, straight teeth and his eyes crinkled until the hazel of his eyes was barely visible.

'Very much so. Anyway… I'm a terrible host.' Blaine suddenly exclaimed, jumping up.

'Would you like to drink something?'

Kurt's mouth opened a few times and closed as the only thought of a drink that came to his mind was blood.

Delicious, sweet blood.

But when he noticed that Blaine's smile had faltered completely, he realized it must've been obvious. The last time he'd been thinking about blood, his eyes had lightened. So Blaine had undoubtedly seen this.

What now? Was he going to kick him out? Call the police? Was he going to become just as scared of Kurt as Kurt himself was? As Finn and Carole and probably his very own father were?

'No, thank you.' Kurt said hastily, eager to get his thoughts off the fear of others of him.

Blaine stared at him for a little longer, but Kurt couldn't quite place the look he was giving him.

'Does this have anything to do with those scars on your neck? Are you one of those vampires?'

Kurt's eyes widened as he touched his neck.

His scarf wasn't there. When Karofsky had roughly pulled it off his neck, he had taken it with him. Kurt hadn't even noticed, keen on getting to the house he was sitting in now, hoping for help.

'Kurt?'

Kurt opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He didn't know what to say. He didn't even know what to do.

'I…'

'It's okay.'

Kurt's head shot up and he stared at Blaine, disbelieving.

'What?'

Blaine smiled, but his eyes rapidly changed from colour. Where they had been a light brown, hazel before, they were now verging on black. Kurt's eyes widened as Blaine bared his teeth.

Fangs.


This story always seems to take me much longer than the rest. Somehow, I kind of liked this chapter, although I'm not very happy at all with the ending. Any opinions?