Summary: Jacob needs to get as far away from Washington as he possibly can. He doesn't know where he's going, but he finds a very special someone when he gets there. Eventual Jacob/Kurt.

A/N: Sorry I've taken so long to update; after an appendicitis scare (I'm good now, don't worry!) and a spontaneous (and computerless) vacation to Florida because my parents are strange and totally awesome, I really haven't had the time. But I am back now, and trying to get back into the groove of writing, so hopefully I will finish up this monstrosity soon.

Please note: I am giving you guys a long and emotional chapter (coming in at about 3,000 words) to hopefully make up for my prolonged absence; enjoy it now, because there might not be another one for a while. I'm sort of going through a ton of real-life drama, and might not have time even though I'm home now.

Imprint

26: Wounded

Puck made sure to scuff his feet loudly over the floor as he approached the pair, and both looked up at the sound. Jake stood carefully on his three good paws, keeping the injured one held close to his chest as he manoeuvred around Kurt and took the overalls Puck was offering to him in his teeth. Kurt watched him warily as he limped around a stack of boxes to change, apparently embarrassed to be naked in front of his imprintee.

"He's hurt," Kurt said, his voice coming off as being flustered, even as his body slumped against the side of the couch, looking exhausted. Puck nodded, perching himself on the arm of the couch and crossing his arms over his bare chest.

"He got bitten during the fight." Puck stopped when he saw the look on Kurt's face, all wide-eyed and panicked like a deer in headlights. "Don't worry though," he quickly backpedalled, uncrossing his arms and waving them about haphazardly to try and retract the statement. "We're immune to the venom, so it'll heal up alright."

Kurt relaxed slightly after the reassurance, and even more so when Jacob appeared from the other side of the boxes, wearing the too-small overalls that barely went past his knees and cradling his left hand with his right across his stomach. The small trickle of blood over his tanned fingers had Kurt feeling somewhat queasy, but he quickly stood and moved closer to his boyfriend nonetheless.

"There's a first-aid kit in my car," he said, the gusto in his voice failing to cover up the fact that his entire body was gently shaking. His trembling fingers latched onto Jacob's bicep above his uninjured hand and he led the taller teen out of the warehouse, trying to look self-assured in front of a smirking Noah Puckerman; old habits die hard.

"I'll be fine, Kurt," Jacob protested a little once they were outside, but the glare Kurt sent him had him closing his mouth, objections forgotten, as he was pushed unceremoniously into the divers' seat of the Navigator.

The doors on the beautiful car had been left open during the scuffle, and Kurt found himself immensely glad that no one had stumbled upon his baby and tried to take it for a joyride. The keys were even still in the ignition, although Irina had turned off the engine.

Taking deep breaths to calm himself, Kurt wandered around the front of the large vehicle and opened to passengers' side door, climbing in and riffling through the glove compartment. Jacob watched him carefully, as though ready to catch him if he fainted, or had some other major breakdown— but Kurt had always been good during a crisis, and he was still running on a slight adrenaline high.

Kurt pulled unopened red plastic case from his glove compartment, making a triumphant noise as he opened the kit and took out an antiseptic wipe, handily labelled for stressful times like these. Jacob wordlessly offered Kurt his left hand, twisting in his seat awkwardly so Kurt has a good angle to study the injury.

He hissed when Kurt started to wipe away the blood around the bite, the antiseptic stinging more than he had expected. "It's not that bad," Kurt declared happily as he looked at the semicircular pattern where Irina's teeth left marks in that fleshy part of Jacob's hand between his thumb and forefinger. He took a sterile compress pad from its marked place in the kit and pressed it gently to the bite, bending it in half and folding it over to cover the matching marks on his palm.

"Kurt..."

Kurt's head snapped up from where he had been fumbling with a gauze wrap to secure the bandage, hands still shaking. Jacob opened his mouth to say more, but didn't have the heart to tell Kurt what he was doing would probably have no effect whatsoever on his recovery.

When Jacob didn't provide any further words, Kurt went back to what he was doing, unrolling the gauze and starting to wrap it tightly around the pad, taping it in place with medical tape when he was finished.

"You'll want to change that again in the next forty-eight hours," Kurt told him quietly, closing the kit and storing it in its previous hiding spot at the back of the glove compartment. "And you should really considering having a tetanus shot, if you haven't in the past six years." He closed his hands in his lap delicately, staring down at the torn cuffs of his pyjama top in contemplation.

There was a moment of silence where Jacob wasn't sure if Kurt would say anything else, as he looked rather unnerved, staring straight downward.

But then, his words so quiet someone else might have missed it, he mumbled, "What was she?" Because he hadn't heard anyone else say the word before seriously, expect perhaps Principal Figgins.

"My people call them the Cold Ones," Jacob admitted sheepishly, his throat tight with emotion as he watch Kurt's fingers twitch. "You palefaces call them vampires."

"And you... killed her mate?" His voice was a little stronger when he asked the question, though he was biting his lip when he looked up to face Jacob.

"I did. Well, my Pack did. He broke a treaty made by my great-grandfather with their kind; he... tried to kill a very good friend of mine," he explained, turning slowly so that he was no longer twisted around to look at Kurt, instead staring through the clear windshield. Puck was pacing the length of the front of the warehouse back and forth with his head bowed in thought and his feet absently kicking stones off the concrete.

"Bella." It wasn't a question, and Jacob glanced back at Kurt, surprised when the name came up. While Kurt had been caught in the middle of their fight he'd picked up on several key facts, and while all of this seemed like a ridiculously complicated dream (though the sharp pain in his shoulder and the dark bruises forming on his chest contradicted that), he was trying to take it all in stride as best as he could. "Was she the girl you first... imprinted on?"

"What? No!"

His voice came out slightly strangled-sounding, and he wasn't quite sure why. He still hated how his story-line arc with Bella ended (because he sometimes liked to imagine his life as a bizarre movie, everyone does it at some point or other), but he thought he'd gotten over the whole thing. A sigh emerged from him when he realised he really hadn't.

"She was the girl I thought I was in love with, and I mean, I thought I had imprinted on her for a while, but that was because I didn't really know what it felt like to imprint. Irina didn't explain it very well at all, Kurt— it isn't like love at first sight. It's so much more than that. It's like gravity shifts, and suddenly, it isn't gravity that's holding you to the Earth, it's that person. You would die for them."

Jacob had this look of sincerity in his eyes that almost made Kurt want to cry again, but he bit down on the inside of his cheek to hold back the tears. "Who was she, then? The girl you did imprint on?" he asked, because he wanted to know; he wanted to know everything about this world he's been thrust into, because he hated not having a clue what's going on, to the extent that it's even stronger than the hate he harboured for Rachel Berry's owl sweater.

"Her name is Renesmee, and she's Bella's daughter. And she's half-vampire, but that's sort of a long story."

Kurt frowned, because that short explanation really didn't explain much, but he brushed it aside as something that could be dealt with later. "And you were in love with her?"

"No, I wasn't. Kurt, you have to understand something; when you imprint on someone, you become whatever they need you to be. Be that a protector, a lover, or ever just a friend, you become that person for them. It's like a binding contract. I imprinted on Renesmee on the day she was born, but I've never felt anything more for her than the urge to protect her from any danger she might encounter in her life. I imprinted on you the first time I heard you sing, Kurt, and I was drawn to you like... flies to honey? Is that the expression?"

Kurt laughs at Jacob's slightly puzzled expression and nods, despite the gravity of the conversation they're having. His heart was thumping wildly as Jacob continued, moving his hands around as he spoke to try and convey an emotion that you really couldn't understand until you felt it.

"I love you, Kurt, and I don't know how to explain it properly, or how it happened to me twice, but it's like... my whole world revolves around you. I never wanted this to happen to you, and I'm so sorry that it took me so long to figure out what had happened. When I knew you were missing, in danger, I just... I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost you." He tentatively reached out and put his good hand on Kurt's knee. "I would do anything for you, Kurt. I will do anything for you. Even if you ask me to leave and never show my face in Lima again, I'll do it, if that's what you want."

Kurt stared at him, stunned for a moment into complete silence. It was deafening to Jacob, the soft sounds of the wind and the birds awakening and Puck pacing back and forth kicking stones sounding like thunder in his ears as he waited for a response breathlessly.

"Why would I want that?" Kurt asked in his most condescending tone, because he couldn't help it. Why on Earth would Jacob think he wanted him gone?

"You must think I'm a monster," he said quietly, removing his hand from Kurt's knee and turning away from him to hide the tears welling in his eyes. Because he was a man, dammit, a shape-shifter, for god's sake, and men like him weren't supposed to cry.

"I don't know exactly what you are," Kurt conceded, "And I'm pretty sure you've committed murder on multiple occasions, but I don't... I don't think of ou as a monster." He sighed, reaching out to grab onto Jacob's arm to make Jacob look at him, staring into his big, puppy-dog brown eyes (which would later occur to him as being conveniently ironic) and trying not to cry himself. "You're just Jacob to me, and that hasn't changed. You make me feel... complete."

Jacob slowly reached up and removed Kurt's hand from his upper arm, gently entwining his fingers with Kurt's much slimmer, paler ones. "Thank you," he murmured, because he would never have expected so much from Kurt. But Kurt was stronger than he looked, maybe stronger than any of them knew, and he wasn't about to give up his man that easily. What could he say; he was smitten.

A tap on the windshield startled them from their big cliché as-seen-on-tv moment, causing them to look up at a disgruntled-looking Puck.

"I understand that you guys are sharing a moment and talking about your feelings and shit, but we should probably get going soon. Kurt's dad is still in the hospital, and if we want to be there when he wakes up—"

Kurt swore loudly, and Puck grinned, having never heard the usually mild-tempered countertenor use such language before, even in the heat of battle over some fashion disaster.

"Oh God, I completely forgot about my father," he whined, putting his hands over his face. "Is he ok? He's in the hospital?"

"He had a head injury," Puck explained, "It's probably just a concussion, but they couldn't tell me anything because I'm not related to him."

Kurt's head whipped around to Jacob, his eyes wide with concern. "We have to go and see him. What if he wakes up and I'm not there? What if they call the police when he tells them I'm missing?" He was almost hyperventilating, his brain moving a mile a minute.

"Get out of the driver's seat," he practically ordered Jacob, pulling himself out of the passenger's seat and stumbling around the front of the Navigator. "You can have shotgun. Puck, get in the back." He practically fell into the driver's seat once Jacob had gotten out, grabbing the keys and turning the engine over.

A tanned hand reached around the steering wheel and turned the engine back off before Kurt had even started reaching for his seatbelt, causing Kurt to look up in anger. "Hold it right there, Hummel. You're not driving anywhere," Puck said, pulling the keys out of the ignition and taking them away.

"Puck's right," Jacob agreed quietly, his eyes scanning over his obviously-exhausted boyfriend with concern. He had dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, and he was favouring his right side heavily over his left.

Kurt scowled at the two of them, crossing him arms over his chest with a wince. "I'm fine. Give me my keys, Puck."

"No. Look, Kurt, you're exhausted, and you're injured. You can't drive like that, it would be irresponsible, not to mention plain stupid. And Jake shouldn't drive with one hand, either, so you two get in the back and I'll drive."

Puck looked a little too happy over the fact that he was the only viable driver, but all the kids at McKinley had dreamed about driving the Navigator at some point or other, even Puck. There was even an unspoken rule among the jocks that while Kurt himself is fair game, no one touches the car. It was just too beautiful to destroy, no matter who its owner is.

"I wouldn't trust you with my hairspray, let alone my car. You're insane, Puckerman. Give me my keys back!" He snatched at the keys dangling from Puck's hand, but the motion almost sent him tumbling out of the car.

"No."

The two boys glared at each other, like some kind of macho staring contest, and Jacob sighed quietly. Neither looked like they were going to back down, which meant he had to say something, or they were never going to get to the hospital.

"In this one instance, Kurt," Jacob said slowly, emphasising that this was a one-time deal, "Puck is absolutely right. He helped me save your life; the least you can do is let him drive your car." It was kind of a low blow, but if it solved this confrontation, he was willing to risk a mildly angry Kurt later. "We can sit in the back together, and you can get some sleep on the drive."

Kurt gave a huff of annoyance, looking between the two shape-shifters warily. He sighed, the temptation of getting some real sleep after this stressful and sleepless night too great to pass up. Slowly, he eased himself out of the front seat to stand in front of Puck, still glaring him down like he was the bane of Kurt's existence.

"Fine," he growled, "You can drive. But if you put one scratch on my baby, and I swear I'll check, you're paying for it to get fixed."

Puck nodded eagerly, climbing into the front seat as Kurt climbed into the back. Jacob got in on the other side, fumbling a little with his seatbelt with his good hand before finally getting himself strapped in. Kurt had a similar problem, wincing when he tried to pull the shoulder strap over his chest. After a moment, he undid himself and slid into the middle seat, doing up the waist-only belt instead. Jacob didn't mind; now that they were directly beside each other, he could easily wrap an arm around his tired boyfriend's shoulders, careful not to aggravate the obviously sore one.

"You okay?" he inquired quietly as Puck started the engine once more and slowly pulled out of the lot and onto the road.

Kurt nodded sleepily, instinctively leaning in towards Jacob's warmth and laying his head on his boyfriend's chest. "I'll be fine. It's only a couple of bruises. I just really want to know my dad's okay."

"Shh, I know."

Jacob pressed a kiss to Kurt's temple, gently pulling Kurt a little closer to his chest. Kurt snuggled up into the warmth, and after a few minutes on the open road, the familiar buzz from the engine and the vibration from the car lulled him into a light sleep. Jacob kept his arm around him for the entire trip home, keeping him safe.

He would never let anyone hurt his Kurt like this again; and that was a promise.