AN: A special thanks to my beta reader SAM ( DareU2Bme ) for all her help with this chapter. All remaining errors whether they be grammar, punctuations, clarity, awkward wording, or continuity are my own. I don't always heed the advice I'm given.

Chapter Nineteen

Death

-Return to Normal-

Days passed and Kurt didn't hear from Blaine. Even though Kurt had half expected Blaine to continue as if nothing had happened, he received no text, email or phone call from the AWOL vampire. So, every evening after Cheerio practice, Kurt went out patrolling on his own. To Kurt's friends and family, he seemed surprisingly unaffected by the rift with his erstwhile ally and patrolling partner. Perhaps they would have been more concerned by his outward veneer of indifference and familiar snarkiness if any of them had been aware of how close the two had become over the past five months.

As he walked down the high school hallway with Mercedes, everything seemed so achingly normal in light of the change in Kurt's life that he wanted to scream. He was barely listening to Mercedes' idle chatter, when they passed Sam and Quinn who were walking arm and arm linked as if they were visiting royalty inspecting the peasants in the fields.

Mercedes paused mid-sentence and that was when he saw it - a quick glance shared between Sam and Mercedes which was hastily followed by guilty, downcast eyes. It only lasted a second, but Kurt caught it and pounced - anything to distract him from thoughts of Blaine.

"Mercedes," Kurt whispered. "What was that?"

"What was what?" she replied evasively with feigned innocence.

"I saw that look! Spill."

"Okay, but you have to promise not to tell a soul!" Mercedes whispered while dragging him to a relatively private spot. "We kissed," she said simply.

"I know that," Kurt said. "Everyone knows that."

"No," she said emphatically. "Another time."

She looked guilty and upset, biting her lip nervously. "We were just talking and it just sort of happened and now we are both cheaters. Kurt, I don't want to be the other woman! I'm not that kind of girl."

"Oh Cedes, you aren't. If you and Sam feel something for each other - well, it isn't like Quinn and Sam are married. They just started dating and maybe he will breakup with her," he tried to reassure her.

"He said he would," admitted Mercedes. "But I don't want to be a homewrecker! I mean I'd be ecstatic if he had before, but now…" she trailed off not sure how to explain her objection.

"But now, it would be like you stole him from her," Kurt supplied understanding her dilemma.

"Thanks for understanding," she said gratefully. "I wanted to tell you, but I din't want to rat out Sam."

"I understand, but you are wrong, Cedes," Kurt said.

"What do you mean?"

"You can't steal a person from another person because that isn't how it works. If Sam wants to breakup with Quinn then it is probably because he isn't happy with her. Maybe he could be with you or maybe not, but they aren't related Cedes even if it seems like they are."

"Huh," Mercedes said thoughtfully. "I don't know if I agree with that, but I guess I feel a little better."

- The Slayer is Alone-

Kurt and Will sat in Will's office going over Kurt's recent slaying encounters. Kurt was leaning back looking supremely distracted and bored which in turn was making Will more annoyed by the minute. Oddly, of all the people in Kurt's life, it was Will who noticed something was off with Kurt when no one else did.

"Now, we need to discuss what to do about the Judge. Under no circumstances can we allow-"

"Already took care of it," Kurt interrupted.

"What?" Will asked taken aback. "Didn't you hear me about the consequence of letting someone reassemble him?"

"Yea, yea, took an army to take him apart, apocalyptical doom and gloom if he's reassembled, no weapon forged of man can destroy him, yada, yada, yada. And I said I took care of it."

Will suppressed the desire to correct Kurt's creative mangling of the english language, - it was hard enough to just keep the boy's attention without wasting time pointing out that 'apocalyptical' wasn't a proper word.

Kurt looked at his nails and pursed his lips in thought ignoring Will's glare.

"Kurt, what did you do?" Will asked pointedly.

Kurt looked up as if just noticing Will was still in the room.

"I took the pieces that turned up in town and pulverized them. My dad knows a guy in construction so it was pretty easy to do. Then I mixed the dust in several separate batches of cement. He's in foundations separated by miles and there is no way he will ever be reassembled. Mr. Shue, really, you need to join the twenty-first century. That whole army to take him apart thing was in the tenth century. Technology has advanced since then."

"Oh," Will said in surprise. "That's actually very clever."

"I'll say," Kurt said sarcastically.

"Kurt," Will sighed rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration, "your attitude lately had gotten even worse and that's surprising because I thought it was already appalling. You are disrespectful to me and frankly I think you aren't even listening to me half that time."

"What was that?" Kurt deadpanned with raised eyebrow.

"Kurt, believe it or not, it is my job to keep you alive," Will said.

"Then why aren't you out there facing demons with me?" Kurt exclaimed angrily. He got up and headed to the door. "I'm doing this alone in case you haven't noticed," he muttered as he stormed out slamming the door behind him.

"I had noticed," Will said softly.

-I'll never leave you-

A stunned glee club sat in silence before tentatively clapping as Rachel Berry flounced back to her seat. Their numbers had returned to their pre-intervention days except for the notable addition of Noah Puckerman who had decided to stay beyond the mandatory period that Coach Beiste had decreed.

"Well," Mr. Shue said, "Rachel that was…" he paused struggling for a diplomatic phrase for her angry solo clearly aimed at Finn Hudson. "Very passionate," he finally finished. "Not really what I was hoping for, but very passionate," he repeated.

"As you all know we need an anthem for Regionals and while that was illuminating, I don't think it really fits New Directions spirit of inclusiveness and teamwork. So with that in mind, let's look at some other options, shall we?" he asked his glee club hopefully.

"Mr. Shue," Finn said standing up. "The guys and I have put together a little something. May we?"

Kurt rolled his eyes at the statement 'the guys', but he didn't protest his exclusion; it wasn't like he had the spare time to help Finn show off in glee club.

"Go ahead," Will said. His voice was resigned and tired and he sat to the side and let Finn take center stage. Puck, Sam, and even Artie joined in. The band guys took their places for backup music and the group sang a very energetic rendition of "Another One Bites the Dust."

"Are they going to do this every week?" Kurt asked Mercedes who just smiled in answer.

"Oh please," Santana said looking and Rachel then Finn when the performance was done. "Can you two just screw out your problems and let the rest of us get on with our lives?"

Will ignored her comment and tried to continue his class.

"Okay, guys, any progress on your original songs?" he asked hopefully.

"We're still working on it," Rachel said confidently.

Quinn smiled and patted the smaller girl encouragingly.

"Only Child was a good effort, Rachel. We'll get there,"Quinn said indulgently.

"Thanks, Quinn," Rachel beamed.

"Get a room," Kurt muttered under his breath causing Mercedes to snort.

"Do you want to hang out at the Lima Bean, Kurt?" Mercedes asked after glee.

"Sure, I could spare a little time to unwind," he admitted. "Just let me stop at my locker and I'll drive."

"How are things with you and Sam?" he asked conversationally as they walked toward his locker.

"There is no me and Sam," Mercedes insisted. "We're trying to avoid being alone together while he works out his feelings for Quinn."

"Oh, sorry to hear that," Kurt said distractedly as he opened the door to his locker. He stared in shock and Mercedes, curious to see what had Kurt so spooked, peered over his shoulder.

"Kurt, you can't bring a sword to school," she hissed. "What if Principle Figgins sees it?"

She paused a second before her jaw dropped when she realized the strangeness of the situation.

"Wait, you threw that thing in the river. How did it even get here?" she exclaimed.

"I have no idea," Kurt said in hushed awe. Then he smiled and said softly. "You came back to me. I'm so sorry I threw you away. I was mad at Blaine and I never should have taken it out on you."

"Kurt," Mercedes said carefully. "You do know that's an inanimate object don't you?" She looked at her best friend's face for signs that he was cracking.

"Seriously, Cedes? It is a magic spelled sword that somehow came back to me after I threw it in the river and you are complaining that I talk to it? You know, Blaine told me I couldn't lose it, but I really didn't know what that meant," he said with wonder looking back at Alexander. He took out his peacoat and put it on, then slipped Alexander into his secret scabbard. Kurt gave a happy sigh to feel the weight of it pulling at his coat.

As they walked to Kurt's Navigator, Mercedes asked, "But how, Kurt? How in the world did it get there? If it just magically zapped itself back to you, why did it take more than a week to show up?"

Kurt just shrugged. He had no idea how the magic involved worked.

Alexander's journey

Walter

Walter had been homeless for more years than he remembered. A combination of alcoholism, bad luck, and an unfortunate economy had put him here, but he had adapted. Winter was always the hardest and in a pinch he spent some of the coldest nights in the homeless shelter. He avoided it unless he was desperate because the holier than thou volunteers tended to preach about his 'lifestyle choices' and require some sort of repentant prayer before he got a meal and a warm bed. Then there were the other residents – he had to keep a watchful eye to avoid losing his hard won prized possessions. No, he liked it much better out here in the open air. Sure, there were demons and vampires to contend with but he found them better company than humans usually. He knew which places to avoid and what precautions to take.

This night he was focused on finding fuel for his fire. The trick to surviving the cold was a sheltered spot, layers of plastic bags, and a fire. He had to be careful, because if he was too obvious the cops would come and arrest him for having an open flame, but he currently had a set up in a primo spot that he had fought a bridge troll for.

It was during his search for flammable material that he spotted the shiny object that was completely out of place. He picked up in wonder.

"A sword? How the hell did something like this get all the way out here?"

People routinely dumped their junk along the river and there were often perfectly good finds among the garbage, but in all of his time on the streets, Walter had never found anything so fine. His first thought was to sell it and buy some good alcohol, but then he realized how much more valuable a weapon would be than cash.

Walter carefully wrapped it in some rags and added it to his basket before heading back to his home under the bridge. He ate a meal of salvaged food from the dumpster behind the local convenience store and wrapped up in a pile of blankets for the night.

Patches

She was an Australian Shepherd mix, with a mottled coat of brown, black, and white. Once she had answered to the name 'Patches', but it had been a very long time since she had heard her beloved owner call her name. She was dog so she didn't dwell on the past or even miss the better days in her life. She focused on the moment and in this moment her focus was on finding food. The smell of roasting meat attracted her, but she stayed a safe distance away until the man had settled down to sleep. Once she would have approached and tried friendly begging to get a meal. She was much warier about strangers now.

She snuffled about the camp until she found the source of the delicious smell. There wasn't much meat left but she crunched the bones of the leftover chicken with relish, keeping a wary eye on the sleeping man.

If she had been able to talk, she wouldn't have been able to explain her next very undoglike action. She was driven by the same sort of compulsion that drove her to chase a ball or herd small creatures. She grabbed the hilt of the bundled sword that Walter had laid by his side and carried it awkwardly away to her own den.

When she arrived, she dropped the sword on the ground and completely forgot about it as she greeted her half grown puppies. She licked and nipped at each one, making sure that they were all where she had left them. She couldn't count, but some sort of instinct allowed her to identify them all and once she was reassured, mother and pups curled up together ward off the cold with shared warmth. They were a hardy breed, but providing milk for her puppies in the winter was taking its toll on Patches. Luckily, she wasn't capable of worry or she would be frantically anxious about where her next meal would come from.

Linda

Linda was surprised to get the call that there had been a report of a stray dog with puppies. It was highly unusual to see puppies this time of year. Unusual and heartbreaking because in the Ohio cold they were unlikely to survive. She shook her head in disgust. What kind of people not only didn't get their dog spayed, but then abandoned them to a life in the wild?

She hated that part of her job. As an animal control officer, she found rescuing animals very rewarding, but dealing with the heartbreak of the condition she often found them in was challenging. She had always a soft spot for animals and wanted to be a veterinarian when she was a child. She had had to adjust her expectations as she grew up, but she wasn't unhappy with her circumstance. Money was often tight and her job had some down sides for someone as tender hearted as she was, but the rewards were great too.

She found the den that the helpful citizen had called about. She'd half hoped there were no puppies as they would be hard to find homes for this time of year, but she could see them clearly peeking out behind their mother. At least four of them, probably about eight to twelve weeks old. The mother was a shaggy long haired shepherd mix of some kind.

Linda spoke to her in soothing tones as she approached carefully with the loop. The dog was defensive and growling so she quickly slipped the loop around her neck. To her surprise, as soon as the loop was around her neck, she sat in a submissive posture and wagged her tail.

"That's a good girl," Linda said brightly. "You were someone's pet weren't you?" she murmured soothingly. She could see the effect of her speech on the dog. She had probably been welled trained once. Linda easily led the animal into the truck and securely into a cage. After that, Linda returned to scoop up the puppies. Once she thought she had them all – five total – she searched the area one more time to make sure there wasn't a runt somewhere that she had missed.

There wasn't, but she found something else that was far more interesting. She picked up the bundle and unwrapped it to find the sword. She had never seen anything like it. Unsure what to do with such a find, she put it in her truck and spend the rest of her day without giving it a thought. If taking a sword she had randomly found home with her seemed out of character for her, she didn't dwell on it.

Tommy

"Oh that feels great," Tommy groaned as his wife rubbed his feet in her lap. She enthusiastically described her day to him as she did it. He smiled fondly at her. He didn't understand how she managed to always be so damned perky, but he loved her for it.

"I brought in a mother dog and her puppies," Linda recounted excitedly. Then she looked up at her husband shyly through her lashes. "It's a shame, really," she continued. "The puppies will probably be placed, but the mother…well, she might end up on death row." She paused as if thinking about this even though she had been planning her next sentence nearly all day. Tommy wasn't fooled. "But we could take her," she suggested with a smile.

"Oh, no we can't," he resisted futilely. He knew there was no use, but he had to put up a good show.

"No, not to keep," she insisted. "Just to foster until she finds her forever home. She is such a sweet well behaved girl, I'm sure it will be no time at all," she promised brightly.

"That's what you said about Killer," he said.

At the sound of his name the ironically named pit bull perked up his ears and looked at them. He was the complete opposite of his name. Linda had rescued him from a dogfighting ring where the submissive sweetheart had been used as a target dog to train the more aggressive fighters. His body was covered with heartbreaking scars and yet he didn't have a mean bone in his body.

"Well, that's different. You know it is impossible to place pit bulls. They have such bad reputations. Which is silly. You're a sweetie aren't yo?"she said to the dog motioning for him to join them on the couch. She babbled baby talk at him while petting his head and making kissing noises.

"I swear that dog gets more action than me," Tommy joked.

"Oh," Linda exclaimed suddenly remembering her other news. "I almost forgot. I found something really weird today. You have to see it to believe it."

She got up off the couch to get the find and returned quickly to show it to her husband.

"Wow," he said examining the sword. "Who throws away a perfectly good sword? Do you think it's an antique or something? It looks practically new!"

"Do you think we should turn it into the police?" Linda asked. "Maybe it's a murder weapon!"

"No way," Tommy dismissed. "I mean, who kills someone with a sword?"

"What should we do?" she asked.

"It looks like it could be worth something," Tommy said pointedly. "And money is really tight these days. Especially if we are going to be the home for wayward dogs, we could really use a little extra cash."

"I don't know," she said doubtfully.

"No, it's settled," Tommy insisted. "I'll take it to work with me tomorrow and during lunch I'll pawn it. I could finally get you something really special for Valentine's Day this year," he finished with a grin.

"I don't need anything but my boys," she insisted giving Killer another pat.

"Well, maybe Killer needs a girlfriend," Tommy said indulgently, knowing that was the way to his wife's heart.

The next day, Tommy took the katana with him to his job as janitor at McKinley High. He didn't make it to the pawn shop as he had hoped though. Those annoying glee club kids decided to give a concert in the lunch room, climbing all over the tables and starting a food fight. Instead of getting a break to sell the sword, he had spent the better part of the afternoon cleaning up after the crazy kids. By the time that he returned to retrieve it, the sword had mysteriously vanished.

Brittany and Santana

The two girls chased each other giggling down the hall. When Santana caught her vampire lover she whispered seductively, "let's go to the Cheerios' lounge and make out."

"No," Brittany answered with a shake of her head. "I know a better place," she continued conspiratorially as she led her dark haired beauty to a door that was usually locked.

The lovers slipped inside the janitor's closet and Santana wasted no time claiming Brittany's lips. It was maddening to spend all day with little more than a few hugs and subtle handholding.

They didn't have time or room for much more than kissing and some quick exploration.

"Have you fed?" Santana asked quickly.

"Jacob Ben Israel told me to bite him, so I did," Brittany answered.

"Good," Santana said with a laugh. "He deserves it. In fact, no one would miss that little creep if you drained him."

"Okay," Brittany agreed. "I'll do it after we make out."

"No, Brit, I was just kidding," Santana insisted hastily. "Remember what I told you? On the wrongness scale, killing people is like a ten. Well, maybe only an eight for Jacob…or a seven. Anyway, don't' kill people."

"Your wrongness scale confuses me," Brittany admitted. "I'm not any good with math."

"Then why did you get an A-plus on your math quiz today?" Santana asked indulgently.

"I wrote an essay on the town where math was never invented," Brittany admitted brightly. "Ms. Peabody said it was the most creative thing she had ever read. She loved my choice of crayon colors."

"Maybe she should give me an A on my next test," Santana suggested slyly. "If you know what I mean."

Brittany's brow furrowed in confusion.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Just tell her how much I deserve it and she'll understand," Santana prompted.

"Oh," Brittany said brightly. "You want me to tell her to give you the A. People like doing what I tell them. Except Kurt. He never listens to me."

"Enough talking, more kissing," Santana suggested, pulling Brittany into a fierce kiss.

Santana's hot hands ran along Brittany's cool, smooth skin as she kissed her long white neck. She put her lips next to Brittany's ear and whispered with hot breathe, "make me come, please. Like only you can."

"Come for me, Amore, come now," Brittany commanded.

Santana's whole body stiffened and she tightened her grip around her vampire lover as the waves of pleasure washed over her body. Panting she laid her head on Brittany's shoulder and held her for a while.

"I wish I could make you come with just my voice like that," Santana sighed wistfully. It was a trick that they had learned early in their relationship, that Brittany could command Santana to orgasm and she would regardless of stimulation.

"You could use your tongue," Brittany purred into her lover's ear.

"Umm," Santana replied appreciatively. There was nothing she would have liked better. "We don't have time, we need to get to glee, but I promise, after." She sealed her promise with several more kisses before disentangling from Brittany.

"We need to go," she said reluctantly.

"No, not yet. I need to find something," Brittany insisted mysteriously and she searched the small space. She found Alexander and gave a triumphant cry.

"What are you going to do with that?" Santana asked with wide eyes.

"I know where he belongs," Brittany explained and headed out of the closet and down the hall. Santana trailed behind her determined girlfriend keeping a watchful eye for authority figures.

When they arrived in front of Kurt's locker, she said, "I'll put him in here."

"It that Lady Face's locker? How will you open it, Brit? You don't even know your own locker code; don't tell me you know his?"

Brittany smiled and said, "I don't need to know the numbers. It doesn't want to be locked so it will tell me."

She closed her eyes and turned the dial, stopping briefly then changing directions. Several quick turns and the lock popped open.

"See?" she said. She placed the sword in the locker and closed the door.

Santana sighed and shook her head. She linked arms with her girlfriend and said, "Will I ever understand you?"

"No," Brittany answered.

-Trouble in Paradise-

Kurt and Mercedes sat at a table in the Lima Bean sipping hot drinks. Before long they were joined by Rachel who just couldn't seem to shut up about Finn. It hadn't come to light immediately, but on the 'Night of Many Indiscretions' as it had come to be known around school, Finn had hooked up with one of the Cheerios and Rachel just couldn't seem to let it go. She seemed oblivious to the hypocrisy and unfairness of holding Finn accountable for his actions given that he had eaten nearly a full box of the spelled candy.

"Oh give it a rest already," Mercedes exclaimed in exasperation, finally exhausted from Rachel's ranting. "If Quinn can forgive Sam for making out with me, why can't you just see that it wasn't Finn's fault?"

Only Kurt noticed the quiver in Mercedes voice when she said Sam's name.

"Seriously, Rachel, you are being a complete hypocrite," Kurt pointed out. "After all you were hitting on Mr. Shue and Blaine, and you practically mauled Quinn that very same night in question. How can you blame Finn for something you yourself were going to do?"

"I know," Rachel nearly sobbed as all of her arrogance and anger melted away. Kurt and Mercedes stared at her in surprise.

"I know," Rachel continued. "But I can't seem to forgive him. I know it isn't fair, but every time I look at him now, all I see is the two of them…" she lowered her voice and whispered, "doing it."

Kurt was so taken aback by her change in tone that he didn't know what to say.

"It's all ruined now," Rachel continued. "I was going to give him my virginity and now he's mated to her instead."

"What?" asked Mercedes looking confused.

"Werewolves mate for life," Rachel explained.

"No, Rachel that isn't true," Kurt asserted.

"It is," she insisted. "Carol told me!"

Kurt shook his head and sighed.

"Rachel, she's a purebred. She was born a werewolf. It's different for Finn," Kurt explained patiently.

"How would you know," Rachel argued arrogantly. "Wouldn't Carol know more than you about this?"

"Rachel, I know Finn. He's been pining after you and nearly every night he has been asking me how to get you back. Would he do that if he had some sort of magical werewolf mate bond with some other girl? Just take him back before he drives us all insane," Kurt begged.

Rachel seemed to be contemplating Kurt's words when Santana and Brittany approached the group. Brittany was clutching a pair of stuffed kissing puppies that had been for sale at the counter in celebration of upcoming Valentine's Day. Santana was carrying a mug of coffee and a bottle of the Warblers' Special. Kurt's eyes widened when he saw it and he shook his head trying to warn the Cheerio of the danger, but she didn't notice.

"Can we join you?" she asked setting the drinks down without waiting for a reply. She grabbed two chairs and the two of them were situated before Kurt could think of a way to salvage Brittany's secret.

Brittany took a swig of the bottled blood and to her credit she didn't get a drop of it on her lips. It didn't matter because Mercedes and Rachel were already staring.

"You can't drink that," Rachel exclaimed in horror.

"Oh my god, she's a vampire," Mercedes whispered.

"What are you talking about?" Santana asked feigning ignorance.

"They know," Kurt said in a hushed tone. "They've seen Blaine drink that so they know. I'm sorry."

Santana glared first at Mercedes and then at Rachel as if daring them to say something to her.

"So, how long have you been a vampire, Brittany?" Rachel squeaked trying and failing for some sort of normal sounding small talk.

Brittany shrugged and said, "I don't know how calendars work."

"It doesn't matter," Santana said sharply. "The whole time you've ever known her so she's exactly who she's always been," she continued defiantly.

Mercedes looked at Kurt and realization struck her as she took in his unsurprised expression.

"You knew," she accused him.

"Yeah," he admitted. "I knew, but it wasn't my place to tell anyone."

After the initial surprise and recriminations against Kurt for not telling them Rachel and Mercedes seemed surprisingly at ease with the knowledge that Brittany was a vampire. Kurt supposed they accepted her more quickly than Blaine because she had been in there lives longer.

After all everyone loves Brittany Kurt thought to himself. Then he looked at Brittany and wondered. Everyone loved her even though she was so strange and out of place in the world she inhabited. She was prone to saying the most bizarre and incomprehensible things and yet…everyone loved her. He thought back to the time that she had wanted him to make out with her and how surprised and annoyed she had been at his refusal. He had been deep in the closet and nearly agreed to the experiment, but in the end had rejected her. He mulled over the implication of that as the girls chatted on. He was fairly sure she had been trying to compel him and that perhaps because of his slayer nature that he had been immune. He made a note to research that. Mr. Shue was no help, but he had other resources.

"…I hear she died of some kind of rare blood disorder," Mercedes said.

"No, it was anorexia," Rachel insisted. "She was like ninety pounds when she died."

"What?" Kurt asked suddenly tuning into the conversation he had missed while mulling over Brittany's powers of persuasion. "Who died?"

"A girl who graduated last year - she died recently. It's no big deal," Santana said. "People die."

"She had a heart attack from loving too much," Brittany explained. "Truefax."

"There you have it," Santana agreed as if Brittany had just made complete sense. "Can we move on to less morbid topics? What's everyone doing for Valentine's Day?"

Kurt's eyes narrowed as he noticed how defensive Santana was. He let it drop, but decided he would look into the girl's death in case it was supernatural.

Brittany smiled and playfully attacked Santana with the stuffed dogs her girlfriend had bought her which sent the usually severe Latina into a giggling fit.

"Probably staying home and eating vegan ice cream substitute," pouted Rachel.

"It's just a commercial holiday dreamed up to sell useless crap and make single people feel bad about themselves," Kurt grumbled.

"Oh, Kurt, how can you be so cynical?" Mercedes asked.

"Easy," Kurt replied. "It comes with the job."

Brittany smiled at Kurt and said, "You'll get a heart for Valentine's Day."

"Really from whom?" Kurt asked indulgently.

"You'll see," she giggled. "If you look too soon it won't be there and all the blood that rains down will only bring tears instead of sunshine."

"Oh-kay," Mercedes said make a quick gesture that only Kurt saw indicating Brittany was sounding a little kookier than usual.

-Dream a Little Dream-

Kurt stood on one side of his double bed and pulled the cover tight. On the other side stood a tall lanky boy with light brown hair and bright green eyes. As they made the bed together, Kurt felt at ease as if they were old friends and making the bed together was perfectly ordinary. It didn't strike Kurt as strange that the bed was a double when he actually slept in a twin bed that he was rapidly outgrowing. In that weird logic of dreams, everything seemed normal.

The boy smiled crookedly at Kurt and looked at the clock.

"Shouldn't you be slaying something?" he asked.

"There's plenty of time for that," Kurt replied lazily as he walked toward the door. "I need a new scarf. Does is seem chilly in here to you?"

"That's because the window is open," the greened eyed boy replied. Kurt turned, and sure enough, the window was open. Also, the bed was a mess and a Brittany's cat, Lord Tubbington was sitting in the middle of the rumpled sheets.

"Now look what you've done," Kurt scolded. "We just made that bed. We'll have to start over."

The cat growled and jumped out the open window. Then the window pane was closed again. Kurt looked at the green eyed boy who was staring at the closed window.

"I am become death, destroyer of worlds," he said brightly and turned to smile at Kurt. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" he asked.

"For what?" Kurt asked. "What am I supposed to be ready for?"

"You think you know, but you don't" the boy replied mysteriously. "You think you know what you are and what's to come, but you haven't even begun."

Kurt opened his eyes to stare at his alarm clock for a few seconds before shaking off sleep and sitting up.

"That was weirder than the slaying dreams," he said to himself.

He wondered who the handsome boy in his dream had been. No one at school, he was sure he would remember such a sexy boy. With that CW hair he was probably an actor or model that he'd seen on TV. He shrugged the dream off as just some meaningless subconscious meandering.

-Priorities-

Kurt grilled Will Schuester about the death of the recent graduate and he wasn't happy with the information he gleaned.

"Kurt, I've looked into it and it is nothing to concern yourself with," Will assured him vaguely.

"What do you mean? Are you saying it was natural causes?"

"The girl was definitely not the victim of an attack," Will hedged.

"But?" Kurt prompted sensing Will was withholding.

"She was anemic, underweight, and covered in what were officially deemed self harm marks, but it is very probable that she was actually a blood whore," Will admitted reluctantly.

"A what?" Kurt asked sharply.

"Someone who sells their blood to vampires. There are blood houses where vampires can go and find humans who will to let them bite them for money. Of course, such practices are dangerous for the humans. Sometimes vampires lose control and kill their victims. Or just decide to break the rules for the thrill of the kill. More often, the people go too often and die as this unfortunate girl did of chronic blood loss."

"Why would anyone do such a thing?" Kurt exclaimed.

"A number of reason, I would suppose. The money of course though it is a dangerous way to make money. Some do it for the thrill of danger. Others go hoping to find a vampire to fall in love with them and turn them as they've seen in so much of the wrong headed romance literature these days. Regardless of the reasons, it is voluntary on their part, foolish and ill informed, but their own choice."

"And this has been going on in Lima and you never told me? Why? People are dying! I should be doing something about this," Kurt insisted angrily.

Will sighed.

"Kurt, it didn't seem to be a priority. After all you were the one who wanted to allow any voluntary behavior to go unchecked. From your reports, there has been a disturbing increase in demonic activity of late. There have been portents and Ms. Pillsbury has been having visions. I'm concerned something truly evil and apocalyptic is on its way. We hardly have time to be tracking down blood houses."

Kurt stood and banged his hand against Will's desk.

"People are dying and it isn't a priority?" he said angrily. "Portents? That's your excuse?" He turned and stormed toward the door.

"Where are you going? We need to discuss what is going on with the hellmouth. I'm telling you something serious is coming this way!"

"I'm going to go track down that blood house. You stay here and pour over your portents," Kurt answered and he slammed the door behind him.

Will was worried for the boy. His anger over this girl's death seem out of portion and given Kurt's increasingly reckless behavior, the Watcher was sure something else was driving Kurt's anger. He wasn't much for field work, but he was determined to keep better tabs on his Slayer.

-Slayer's Wraith-

Kurt burst into the abandoned apartment in run down building that he had been searching for all day. It was filled with furniture that might have been scavenged from dumpsters or curbs. In all appearance, it was shabby and filthy. Several vampires were feeding on humans sitting in chairs and lying on couches.

A vampire, looking like a nondescript unassuming man confronted him.

"What's going on?" he demanded.

Instead of answering, Kurt shot him through the heart with the crossbow in his hand. He quickly reloaded as pandemonium broke out.

"If you're human, leave now," he ordered as the screaming humans were already making for the exits. "If you're a vampire," he paused and smiled, "I'm Kurt Hummel, Vampire Slayer, and you won't be leaving this place."

Kurt surveyed the room quickly and shot another two vampires in succession as humans scrambled past him . He didn't have time to reload when another attacked so he beheaded it quickly then turned and threw a stake at one that had made for the door while he was occupied. The stake missed the heart and the vampire made a classic mistake of stopping and pulling it out instead continuing to run. Kurt used the time to close the gap and pound another stake into the creature this time hitting his mark.

There was one more vampire. She ran toward Kurt as if to attack, but when she reached him she fell to her knees in an unexpected move that left Kurt too nonplussed to react.

"Please," she said allowing her vampire features to fade, leaving behind the aspect of a young woman in her late twenties. She had long dark hair that looked like it hadn't been washed in weeks. Her clothes were a patchwork of mismatched pieces that looked like they had been looted from a salvation army. Taken altogether, kneeling in front of him she looked a pitiful sight.

"I'm just trying to live," she begged. "I don't hurt nobody, I swear. They come here and we feed on 'em. We don't even have to ask. They just seem to know where to come. I swear I never hurt no one."

Kurt knew she that she was lying at least about the never part. Even if she hadn't killed anyone lately, Blaine had admitted to him that there was no such thing as a vampire that had never killed anyone. Regardless of the reality, she seemed so pitiful and helpless.

Kurt raised a stake resolutely then dropped it on the floor. At her expression of relief, his face hardened.

"Get out of here and never come back. And I mean out of Lima - not just this apartment. If I ever see you again, I won't spare you. You tell any vampire friends…"

But he was speaking to air as the vampire fled for her life not waiting to see if Kurt might change his mind. Kurt's pity fled with her and his mood quickly turned black. He kicked over furniture at random and threw every breakable object in sight. When he stopped and surveyed the wrecked room, he realized it wasn't enough. He needed to destroy the place. He didn't understand why, but he just needed to erase its presence from the planet.

-I am Become Death, Destroyer of Worlds-

Will Schuester stood outside of the abandoned building in a very bad part of town. He wrapped his scarf around his face tighter to ward against the bitter cold. His Slayer had entered this building looking determined though Will was at a loss as to what he hoped to accomplish. The building housed a well known blood house where human frequently came to sell blood to vampires. The vampires that resorted to such practices were the lowest of the low on the supernatural food chain. Either too lazy or too incompetent to hunt. Will wholeheartedly approved of removing them, but Kurt's attitude worried him. His actions were growing increasingly erratic and he seemed to be on a self destructive emotional roller coaster.

Will had tried reaching out to the Watcher's council for advice, but they had been surprisingly unconcerned by his reports. Their only advice had been to remind him that slayers were overly emotional and unreliable and therefore it was his job to provide structure and discipline. Vague advice at best and completely unworkable in Kurt's case.

Not long after Kurt entered the building, he came striding out. His long coat was billowing behind him as he walked confidently in the Watcher's direction. Will was relieved to see that Kurt was apparently unharmed. Normally, he wouldn't even be worried about such a low risk operation as this, but Kurt's attitude made him afraid the Slayer was taking unnecessary risks.

Will's relief was short lived as an explosion of breaking glass erupted behind Kurt followed quickly by billowing smoke and finally orange flames lighting the night's sky. Will woke from his shock long enough to attempt to call 911, but he heard sirens approaching in the distance so he aborted his attempt to reach help and focused on the Slayer. Kurt didn't even look back at the towering inferno blazing behind him and Will knew his worst fear was true. Kurt had set the blaze. His Slayer was further gone than he had imagined.

"Kurt," he said grabbing the boy when he caught up to him.

"Mr. Shuester?" Kurt answered in surprise. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be buried in a pile of books somewhere?"

"I'm worried about you. Kurt, did you set that fire?"

Kurt shrugged.

"It needed to be done. Isn't this what you wanted from me?" he answered coldly.

"Arson?" Will exclaimed. "No! Decidedly, no. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that vampires who nest in Lima need to get the message that this Slayer doesn't tolerate that anymore," Kurt replied haughtily.

"Did you even check to make sure the building was clear of innocents? What about the neighborhood? That fire could spread for blocks! Kurt, you are behaving recklessly and endangering the very humans you are supposed to protect!"

"Is that really what I'm supposed to do?" Kurt asked acidly. "Then why is it 'The Slayer' and not 'the Protector'? Seems like killing is exactly what I'm supposed to do. I am become death, destroyer of worlds," he quoted.

"Where did you hear that?" Will asked paling.

"It's a famous quote from Oppenheimer. Shouldn't you know that?" Kurt asked incredulously.

"Yes, yes, of course," Will answered. "Though actually Oppenheimer was quoting an ancient text when he said that. But why would you say that now, Kurt? Has someone said that to you specifically?" It wasn't common knowledge that the quote now attributed to Oppenheimer originated in a very ancient and obscure text that the Watcher believed was part of a prophecy regarding a terrible evil that the Slayer must defeat. Will was disturbed to hear the words from Kurt when he had been stumbling across this very prophecy of late in his research. If it really pertained to this Slayer then they were woefully unprepared.

"No," Kurt lied not wanting to talk about his dream. It was just a stupid pretentious quote anyway and he didn't know what prompted him to say it.

"Kurt, we need to talk. Now!" Will insisted.

"No, we don't," Kurt argued shaking him off. "I need to get some slaying done. Alexander and I are going demon hunting. Those vamps were barely more effort than swatting a fly. I'm sure there is something more challenging out tonight."

With that Kurt left Will behind with his thoughts.

-Poison-

The day after the fire, Kurt was acting normal - for the most part. If he seemed pale, tired, and perhaps a little feverish, no one said anything until near the end of the day. He and Mercedes were in the library with Mr. Shuester when they first noticed something was wrong.

Kurt lifted his bag to his right shoulder and winced in pain. He put the bag down and sucked in air until his head cleared, then switched hands.

"Kurt are you alright?" Mercedes asked.

"Fine, I got poked last night by a demon, but I'm going to be fine I'm sure," he reassured her.

"Poked?" she asked skeptically.

He rolled his eyes at her and smiled.

"It had a long sharp thing coming out of its wrist. It sort of skewered me, but you know I have those slayer healing powers so I'm sure I'll be fine in a day or two. Right, Mr. Shue?" he asked looking at the Watcher for confirmation.

Will looked far more concerned than he expected.

"Can you describe this demon that 'skewered you' in more detail," Will prompted. "Take your shirt off, let me see this wound," he continued.

"Is that really necessary?" Kurt complained.

"Yes," will answered sharply. Kurt complied and Will examined the wound on Kurt's shoulder while Kurt began to list off a description of the demon.

Mercedes looked green and sat down at the sight of the large hole in Kurt's shoulder.

"It looks worse than it is, Cedes," Kurt said cheerfully. The hole was an angry red and there were black striations emanating from it. "I'm going to be fine aren't I?" he asked anxiously looking at his Watcher.

Will ignored the question and Kurt began to worry.

"Mercedes, can you call up a picture for me in that database?" Will asked. He turned back to Kurt and said gently, "Kurt you need to sit down. Conserve your strength."

"Now, you're scaring me," Kurt said with an edge of panic, but he complied.

"What happened to the demon, Kurt? Is it dead?" Will asked sternly.

"No, it got away," Kurt admitted. "Sorry."

"That's okay, I just thought having the body might help us identify is, but I already have an idea as to the identity based on your description," Will replied. His tone was carefully neutral, but Kurt could hear a hint of panic hidden beneath the attempt to maintain an authoritative demeanor. "Mercedes, is there a picture of a Gap demon?" Will asked.

"Give me a second," Mercedes said as she started typing. "Yes, here it is. Kurt is this the demon who attacked you?" She asked turning the screen toward Kurt.

"Yeah, that's it. What does it say?" Kurt asked curiously.

Mercedes began reading without thinking.

"The Gap demon is a rare demon often nesting with a horde of lessor demons. Great care should be taken to avoid the retractable appendage that secretes a deadly poison. The poison is slow acting, but a full dose will kill an ordinary human with in twenty-four hours. A slayer might survive several days before succumbing to a pain…," she trailed off as the words she was reading began to sink in. She looked up at Mr. Schuester.

"There has to be an antidote, right?" Kurt pleaded. "I'm not ready to die," he said in a haunted voice. "I'm only seventeen."

"Kurt, I'm going to call your father. I want you to stay in bed. The less you move the slower the poison with progress. I swear, I'm going to do everything in my power to save you. There has to be something we can do. I'm not going to let you die," he promised.

-Death Watch-

Kurt developed a high fever and refused to eat as he faded in and out of consciousness. Burt, Carole, and Finn took turns sitting at his bed side holding his hand and talking to him.

Meanwhile, Will, Mercedes, Rachel, and Emma searched around the clock to find even a hint of a cure for the poison that was rapidly spreading through Kurt's veins. Will brought over his most promising books and poured through them occasionally sleeping on the couch. A quick call to the Watcher's Council gleaned nothing more than condolences and instructions to inform them when they should be searching for the new Slayer.

Will extensive knowledge of demons had pointed him to identify of the culprit, but gave him no hint as to a cure. In fact, he started out believing their search was futile, but couldn't bring himself to tell anyone that. It was Emma who found an obscure passage that gave them a glimmer of hope, but everyone feared it was too late, especially given the dangerous task of procuring the cure now that they knew what they needed. No one dared voice the fear that it was either too late or the it would turn out to only be speculation rather than a true cure.

"I can do a location spell to find it," Rachel said, "but then what? How do we get it?"

"You let me worry about that. I'd lay my life down for my son," Burt asserted.

"Brave as that may be, it doesn't do Kurt any good for you to get yourself killed and not return," Will argued gently.

"Then what do you suggest?" asked a defiant Burt.

"I know someone who could do it," Mercedes answered. "I just don't know if he will."

Rachel nodded when she realized what Mercedes was thinking.

"He will," Rachel insisted. "I know he will. Someone get Kurt's phone. We need to call Blaine."

Mercedes ran to Kurt's room to fetch the phone.

"You really think that vampire will risk his life for my son?" Burt asked.

"I know he will," Rachel answered. "He broke his own heart to cut Kurt out of his life. Why do you think he did that?"

"I didn't…" Burt managed in his shock. "I didn't realize that they weren't still hanging out together," he finished quietly. "He really did it," the man said in a shocked whisper.

Mercedes came back with Kurt phone. Burt held out his hand for the phone.

"Let me make the call," he said firmly.