Halloween: Part 1

2009

A year before the Hudson-Hummels moved in, there had been another family – it consisted of two retired actors named LeRoy and Hiram Berry, and their spoilt teenage daughter Rachel.

On Halloween the year before the Hudson-Hummels moved in, Hiram had been carving pumpkins for the party that they were throwing; he didn't know where his partner had gone, although he had a good idea. Their daughter was upstairs, practicing her singing – she'd said in a rather bossy tone, "I'm clearly not going to get proper lessons, am I?" and decided to keep up her vocal training in her room.

Moments later, LeRoy walked in, head down so that he didn't have to look at his partner. "I'll be home around four," He muttered, heading straight for the fridge to grab a drink. Hiram looked up, deciding whether or not to bite back the bitchy comment brewing in his mouth.

As LeRoy tried to walk away, Hiram stopped him suddenly. "I need help..." He muttered, looking his partner straight in the eye. "...carving these pumpkins!"

"Who is that meant to be?" LeRoy asked, nodding his head at the one Hiram had just been carving into.

Both of them looked down at the pumpkin for a moment. "It's Maria Antoinette. I'm doing a famous French figures theme this year."

LeRoy sighed. "You know what, I'm going to the gym."

As he walked past his husband and out of the room, Hiram cleared his throat. "Well, make sure you wear a condom." He pushed his glasses further up his nose. "And make sure to pick up some Gala Apples...the Golden Delicious I got just look dull and...depressing..." He sighed to himself. "No contrast. Like my life."

Moments later, LeRoy walked back into the room. "Why would I wear a condom at the gym?"

"Maybe because you're screwing that twink trainer of yours," Hiram accused, putting his hands on the kitchen table. "And I need Gourds. I'm planning on hanging them on the trees outside."

"You know what?" LeRoy said, putting his bottle of water down on the counter. "What if I was?"

"Was what?"

"Screwing my trainer," LeRoy folded his arms, trying to appear superior. "It's probably not a bad idea...I think he'd be a great power bottom – he'd love it."

Hiram lifted his hands and slammed them back onto the table. "First of all, please remember our agreement of 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell'. Secondly, is this crazy fantasy of yours meant to upset me? Because at this point, I don't care."

LeRoy's shoulders drooped, and he shook his head as he gave up.

"Oh, and I need some dry ice," The taller man turned around to pour himself a drink. "Have you picked out a costume yet?"

"Why are you doing this?"

Hiram rolled his eyes. "Because there's going to be a party here in a couple of days."

"You know what?" LeRoy started, getting angry suddenly. "I think this is bullshit! We've become bullshit! I don't give a shit about carving pumpkins or dressing up for Halloween!" He sighed angrily. "I want love, Hiram! I want passion, with you! With a man, not Martha Stewart!"

"THEN LEAVE!" He snapped, spinning around quickly. He walked around the counter as he spoke so that he was eye-to-eye with his partner. "Oh, that's right, neither of us can; all of our money is in this house that we agreed to flip and make a mint on, but now we can't because the economy is in the shitter! I mean, do you think I like carving pumpkins?!" He growled slightly. "Sure, it was fun when our daughter was no older than six, but I don't want to get squash guts under my fingernails now!" Hiram sighed. "I'm trying, here. I want this place to be warm, and inviting...and just fantastic. Maybe that way someone will see the house and buy it off of us." He took a step closer to LeRoy. "So carve a pumpkin, get a goddamn outfit and man up."

As he stepped away again, giving them both some space, LeRoy looked down at the floor morosely. "I can't believe this is what we've become...arguing over Halloween decorations..." He grabbed his water bottle, wanting to leave the house, and headed for the doorway. However, he stopped at the last moment to look back at the other man. "What happened to giving our Rachel a brother or sister? We were going to have a baby...this great life..." At this, Hiram looked up with wide eyes. LeRoy shrugged to himself and left, not having anything else to say.

Rachel hated hearing her Dads argue – before the move, they'd been the picture of the ideal couple; loving, they doted on their daughter... And now they couldn't stop arguing over stupid things.

Sighing to herself, she smoothed out her skirt as she checked that her outfit was the right size; if making the house look pretty on Halloween and dressing up was what it took to make her Dads happy, she was willing to do it. It had been a long time since she'd last dressed up – five years, to be exact – and she decided that it would be a good opportunity to practice her acting.

As she spun to admire herself from all angles, she noticed from the corner of her eye that there was someone standing in the doorway. Thinking it was one of her dads, she put on a smile and turned to face them properly. "How do I look?"

The figure didn't answer, instead stepping into the bedroom. Rachel noticed that the person was wearing a Rubber suit of some sort, and she gave a laugh. "Very scary...a bit bland, but..."

The Rubber man kept moving towards her, tilting his head slightly. "You know, if you can't talk then what's the point in wearing that outfit? How are you going to tell me how pretty I loo-"

She was cut off by the figure grabbing her by the shoulders and shoving her into the set of drawers across the room.

Not noticing the commotion from upstairs, Hiram had poured himself a glass of champagne and started drinking heavily. He knew he wasn't meant to, what with his daughter in the house, but he was so sad that he didn't care.

After about ten minutes of drinking his sorrows, he got up to look inside the barrel of bobbing apples. He sighed; even when he was half-drunk, they didn't look right. He sat back down, rubbing his face with his hands. "Red is wrong..." He mumbled, feeling like banging his head straight into the table. "It has to be green."

Someone entered the room, and he turned to look at them; a person in a rubber suit. Hiram blinked before smiling slightly, raising his glass to the figure and taking a sip. "Funny," He muttered, in a better mood now. "It's good, actually...very sexy-scary."

The figure didn't move or speak.

Hiram lifted a paper bat from the table. "How about you come and help me with these bats? We could talk things over..."

The figure tilted their head.

"I'm sorry," Hiram continued sincerely. "I'm sorry for everything; my attitude, my low sex drive...it's probably low testosterone from stress. I'm going to see a doctor next week."

Finally, the figure moved towards him, still not saying a word.

Hiram looked up at them, smiling widely and standing up so that they were able to talk at eye level. "So, did you get apples?"

Without warning, the rubber man threw Hiram across the room, knocking food and utensils off of the shelves. Not giving the bespectacled man a chance to regain his strength, Rubberman bent down and picked Hiram up before throwing him across the table, causing his glasses to fall off. Now unable to see, he stumbled around on the floor blindly, trying to find a surface to pull himself up on.

Rubberman, however, was faster; he walked around the table, grabbed Hiram by the collar of his shirt, pulled him upwards and shoved him into the barrel of bobbing apples nearby. Hiram struggled as the mysterious figure shook him about; in a second, he'd broken Hiram's neck.

Done with him, Rubberman pulled Hiram out of the barrel, throwing him to the side. A second later, LeRoy had walked in wearing a cowboy costume; he halted when he saw what was going on.

Rubberman looked up, locking eyes with him.

2010

"This is unacceptable, Marcy," Carole stated irritably as she grabbed a container full of pasta, slamming the fridge door shut and stalking to the other side of the kitchen. "One person has seen the house in two weeks? And she didn't even stay for the whole tour because she was so spooked out by it."

"You need to do something," Burt agreed, nodding along with his wife.

"Don't but the blame on me here, Mr Hummel," Marcy defended. "This house has an image problem, it's as simple as that. Fix that problem and the property will sell very fast."

Burt and Carole shared a look. "Well, what are we supposed to do?"

"I think we need a fluffer here," Marcy decided, resting her clasped hands on the table in front of her.

Carole raised an eyebrow as she spooned some pasta into a bowl. "A what?"

"Fluffers," The older woman repeated as Carole sat down. "People that we can hire to come in and give a dash...a dash of style to this place."

"We have style," Carole said indignantly.

Marcy raised her eyebrows. "Everybody thinks that they have style, and everybody thinks they're funny. Most people aren't."

I am, Burt thought to himself privately as he quickly took a piece of pasta from his wife's bowl.

"That's why in my business we have fluffers," Marcy explained. "They come in, they rent some accessories, maybe karate-chop a few throw pillows...they make this home look like a magazine spread. It's Halloween; imagine the mileage you could get if you decorate your front porch with divine cheery pumpkins. Lots of happy trick-or-treaters means parents who talk to their friends...it means more looks at the house...basically more PR."

All the time, Burt and Carole had been exchanging confused and unsure looks; they didn't know if they wanted a fluffer, if they were honest.

Marcy leaned forwards, staring straight at Burt. "I heard that you were egged last night, Mister Hummel."

Burt had woken up in the middle of the night, and he groggily looked around to see what could have woken him up. Having been young and a troublemaker himself, he immediately realised that it was the sound of people throwing eggs at the house windows.

He quickly jumped out of bed, heading for the stairs and jumping half of them. He shoved the front door open and headed straight outside, not caring that he was freezing cold. "HEY!" He yelled as soon as he'd spotted the perpetrators – two young teenagers holding boxes of eggs. "GET THE HELL OF MY PROPERTY!"

The tallest one laughed, throwing his whole box at the older man. "Happy Halloween, asshole!"

The two of them ran off, laughing. Burt ran after them trying to keep up. "You little shits!" However, it was clear that he'd lost them.

"Why did you tell her that?" Burt complained, looking at his wife with confusion.

Carole raised her hands in self-defence. "You know what? On this one topic, I actually agree with her." She stood up to put her bowl in the dishwasher. "We have an image problem. I mean, we're on the Murder House tour, for God's sake." She turned to look at the realtor. "Marcy, do you know any of these fluffers? Can you get them immediately?"

"Yes," Marcy nodded. "A wonderful English lady, a real pro...but she's more expensive than the young gay fellow I know."

Carole and Burt both looked at each other. "Let's go with the young gay guy," Burt muttered while Carole said, "Yup, the gay fellow".

"I'll call the fluffer," Marcy finished cheerfully, standing up.

As Sam shoved the chocolate chips into his mouth, he shifted the storybook in his arms and smiled at the teenage girl sat next to him. "Halloween comes from the Celtic holiday of Samhain," He read out, chewing his food quickly so that he could continue. "It commemorated the end of the harvest festival. They celebrated it to ward off their fears. The Celtics believe that on October 31st, the boundary separating the realms of the living and the dead disappeared." He made a face at Becky, who smiled at him. "That's why we wear costumes; to ward off the ghosts."

"No way I'd ever wanna be a ghost," Becky decided. "It's just so sad."

Sam grinned and nodded in agreement just as Sue walked in through the kitchen door with some groceries. "So, what are you going to dress up as this year, Becky?"

Becky leaned in closer to Sam and whispered it; the blonde pulled away, grinning at her. "Are you blushing?" He teased, stroking her cheek with his finger. "Look at you! You know what? I think that's a hell of a costume."

Sue, who had been watching with a sour look on her face, interrupted the moment. "Did I say you could eat all of my chocolate chips?" She questioned, and Sam quickly stood up to greet her. "I was going to make cookies out of those, but now someone's going to have to run to get me some more."

"I'll go," Sam offered, slightly muffled because of the food in his mouth.

There was an awkward moment of silence where Sue looked between Sam and Becky, and the short girl turned her face away, smile disappearing quickly. Giving in, Sue reached into her tracksuit pocket and pulled out a five dollar note, extending her arm to him to take it. "Get me a carton of chocolate chips – without eating them."

Sam took it from her, giving her a wide smile. "Cool. I can use the change to fill up my bike."

He reached to grab his jacket and turned back to the older woman. He gave a small smile at her and took a step closer. Giving in, Sue turned around and pecked his lips quickly. As Sam backed away, he turned to Becky. "Bye!" He whispered loudly, pulling a funny face. Becky smiled at him, going slightly red.

When the door had shut behind him, Sue was on the younger girl quickly. "What the Hell are you doing?" She spat, not looking impressed in the slightest. "You know how to read." Sue raised an eyebrow as Becky looked away. "Please. You just like mooning over him...do you remember what happened to the last one?"

"It wasn't like that!" Becky defended, shutting her eyes. "He was just reading!"

"One minute he's reading, the next his hand is down your pants," Sue sneered, turning back to her grocery shopping.

Becky sat up straight. "He smells better than the last one."

Sue stopped what she was doing and turned to look at her adopted daughter. "What did you say?" Becky didn't answer, instead just blinking. Sue moved in closer, bending down so that they were eye-to-eye. "Now, you listen to me, Becky," Sue hissed, glaring at her. "I have given every inch of my life to look after you and your siblings for the last thirty-something years. I would kill or die for any of you four..." She took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. "But I won't share the affections of the men I bring into this house with anyone, you understand?" Becky looked down, giving a small nod. Sue looked down at the book that Becky and Sam had been reading from and sneered at it. "What is this? Huh...Halloween. What did you tell him you wanted to go dressed up as?" When her daughter didn't answer, Sue added bitterly, "You and your boyfriend keeping secrets now?"

Becky stood up and pulled a piece of paper from her jacket. She walked up to Sue, unfolding it. "I wanna go as her," She stated as the older woman turned to look. "As a pretty girl."

Sue smirked and gave a small laugh. "You can go as Snoopy again." Becky threw her head back, annoyed. "The costume will still fit...if you lay off those chocolate chips."

"I don't wanna go as Snoopy again," Becky complained.

"You'll go as Snoopy, or not at all." There was a long silence before Sue walked to the door of the kitchen to leave. "Now, when the blonde gets back, send him upstairs." She lifted the book up. "And no more of this."

Just as she reached the doorway, however, Becky said something that made her stop. "The dead can walk freely on Halloween."

Sue slowly turned to look at the short girl. "We've always known that."

By now, the doorbell ringing had become a bad omen. Finn mentally crossed his fingers as he opened the door, only to find himself looking at the scarred face of Puck. "Trick'r'Treat!" Puck said cheerfully, holding up a container of sweets and laughing.

Finn rolled his eyes, looked around to check that no one was watching, and stepped outside while closing the door behind him. "What are you doing here?" He asked in a low voice.

"Umm...Trick'r'Treating?" Puck shifted his container, making the sweets inside rattle against the edges. "It's Halloweek! I do the full seven days – it's the only time I can be myself." At this, he gestured to his face. "So...err...just put the thousand dollars in the pumpkin here, and nobody will be the wiser."

Finn glared at the other teenager, and started to shove him away from the house. "Get off of our property now!"

"Or what?" Puck taunted, looking back at him with a smirk. "You'll call the cops?"

"You know what?" Finn breathed harshly, taking a step closer to him. "I just might. I didn't do anything."

Puck raised an eyebrow. "No? Well, that gazebo in the backyard showed up pretty quickly. I wonder, did you get the permit to build it? Maybe somebody should call the City's inspector and have them take a look..."

Finn's shoulders slumped slightly at the realisation, but leaned in closer to the other teen. "What's under that gazebo is what you did-"

"But what's inside what's under that gazebo is what you did," Puck retorted. "That is not my baby in there! If your little girlfriend finds that out, God knows what would happen...Now," He shook his pumpkin container. "Give me my treat. You don't want to see the trick."

Finn blinked before making his mind up; he grabbed the container that Puck was holding, turned away from him, and kicked it to the other end of the garden. The other teenager's mouth fell open. "I'm done talking," Finn gritted out, turning around to go back into the house.

"I've agreed to this meeting because we need to clarify a few things," Burt stated. Blaine nodded meekly. "First of all, what were you doing here during the break in?"

Blaine took a deep breath. "The truth is, I was just hanging around outside...I was throwing a few pebbles at Kurt's window to get his attention...and then I noticed that the door was unlocked and half-open...so I went to see what was going on." He ducked his head. "I'm not proud, Mister Hummel."

"I understand," Burt admitted, shifting so he was more comfortable. "But this is why I don't want you around my son."

"I've tried to be a good person," Blaine started to babble, eyes filling with tears. "I mean, I told you about that job...I helped Kurt and your wife out during that invasion...I was just trying to help."

Burt sighed, feeling guilty all of a sudden. "I can't feel good about it, Blaine."

Blaine's head fell into his hands as he slumped forwards and started shaking with the sobs he was trying to keep back. Burt thought hard, trying to think of something that would work.

"Fine," He gave in, and Blaine's head shot up. "I can meet you for coffee later this week...but you have to promise-"

"I promise," Blaine interrupted, giving a relieved smile as he wiped away the tear tracks glistening on his cheeks. "No more being weird and hanging around, I promise."

Despite the teenager's reassurances, Burt didn't feel at all happy with the plan.

"This is your control panel," The security guy, Luke, said, pointing at the appropriate piece of the alarm system. Carole nodded, trying to remember what was what. "It operates one of the fifteen window and doors sensors." He pointed at another object. "This is an infra-red motion detector; it goes in the foyer."

"And that?" Carole asked, pointing at something that looked like a small remote control.

Luke picked it up. "This? This is your panic button. I'm gonna hide one of these in your nightstand, probably one here in the kitchen too. So if something goes 'bump' in the night, you hit this button and I'll be right there." Carole nodded, suddenly feeling much more reassured. "Now, given what you and your family have gone through recently, I'm expecting a lot of false alarms, so...don't be shy." He gave her a brief smile.

"Alright," Carole said, giving him a smile back. "If you say so."

"I do...questions?"

"I probably have a hundred questions," Carole admitted, looking at everything on the kitchen table. "But I can't think of any important ones right now."

Luke nodded. "Alright. Now, if you get a power-cut, or someone cuts the phone line-"

"Then we're in trouble," Carole laughed nervously.

Luke laughed too. "Yeah. Exactly."

When Carole walked into the Dining Room, she found Santana sitting in one of the chairs surrounded by a pile of pumpkins. Looking over the Latina's shoulder, she saw – with amazement – that the maid had carved a fantastic face into the pumpkin. "Did Marcy bring these pumpkins?"

Santana blinked. "Yes."

Carole smiled at the pumpkin. "Oh, that's nice..."

"Thank you," Santana said, smiling a little. "I enjoy crafts." She paused. "Mrs Hudson-Hummel, a question." Carole turned to look at her again. "May I have Halloween off? I'd like to visit my mother."

"Oh," Carole nodded quickly. "Of course."

Santana seemed grateful as she turned back to her now-finished pumpkin and smiled down at it. "Done."

"I'll put that outside," Carole picked the pumpkin up, smiling at her maid in a friendly way; even though she and her family would be gone soon, she enjoyed the maid's company very much.

Outside, she put the pumpkin down on the floor. Just as she straightened up, she heard voices from the side of the house.

"Ugh!" Someone remarked, and she squinted to see who it was; two men standing with their backs to her. "The roses have whitefly. Jesus, what an eyesore-"

"Hi," She interrupted, and both of the men turned to look at her.

The one who'd been speaking – the taller one wearing glasses – straightened up. "Hi. Love the house. So much potential."

Detecting the sarcasm in his tone, Carole gave a false smile. "Thank You. Are you Marcy's fluffers?"

The two men looked at each other and nodded slowly. "I'm Hiram Berry," The tall man introduced before taking a step forward to shake Carole's hand. He gestured to the man on his right. "And that's my ball and chain, LeRoy."

"You know, this is actually kind of fun," Burt stated, getting easily amused as the five of them – him, Carole, Hiram, LeRoy and Finn - carved pumpkins. "I never got to do this as a kid."

"Why not?" Hiram questioned, not looking up from his pumpkin.

There was an awkward silence. "So," Carole said lightly, tapping Finn on the wrist when he tried to eat some of the pumpkin insides. "This is what you guys do for a living. That's amazing to me...and wonderful, because style is so important."

"It's everything," Hiram scoffed, eyes concentrating on his pumpkin.

LeRoy snorted to himself, and Hiram lifted his head to glare at the man.

"You know what?" Hiram decided, throwing his carving knife onto the counter and picking up his glass of wine. "I'm so glad that we get to help you have the best Halloween ever. I love Halloween...so does LeRoy, because the bars are awash in twinks with six-packs and revealing outfits for you to stare at. Isn't that right?" He turned back to the other couple. "That's where he was going to go last year instead of helping me with the trick'r'treaters."

By this point, Finn's mouth had fallen open, and he glanced around at his mother and Burt to see their reactions. As the older man knocked back his drink, LeRoy raised an eyebrow at him. "Have another drink, dear. Crafting brings out his inner George and Martha."

"So, in addition to Halloween night and making everything inviting – which I get," Carole added quickly. "Do you guys have any other suggestions? For what we might do to the house to make it sell faster?"

"Actually, yes," Hiram stood up and went to look out the kitchen window. "The gazebo's gotta go."

Finn's head snapped up quickly.

"The lattice is wrong."

"I agree," LeRoy said, shrugging slightly.

"But we just put it in," Carole remarked.

Hiram smirked slightly at Burt. "Did you put that gazebo in yourself, Burt?"

Burt nodded. "Yeah, me and Finn did it last week."

"Well, let's get through tonight," Hiram planned gleefully. "And then we can tear it down and put in an...an organic cutting garden of some sort..."

Ironically, Burt ended up slicing the palm of his hand with his carving knife. "Shit!"

"Woah, are you alright, dude?" Finn asked, panicking as his mother and the other two men went to check over the wound.

"I think I'm gonna need stitches," Burt gritted out.

"No, it's okay," LeRoy insisted, looking between Burt and the cut on his hand. "I can fix it up. I just need a first aid kit."

Hiram snorted, stepping away from the group. "My partner here is a practiced EMT."

"I thought you were a fluffer," Carole inquired, looking extremely confused.

"You're hilarious, Carole," Hiram stated dryly. "And I love your hair colour - I can barely see any roots."

Carole grinned. "Oh, it's my natural colour."

"Where's your first aid kit?" LeRoy asked, breaking the moment.

Burt blinked. "Upstairs."

"Look at that," Burt muttered, grinning up at the other man in thanks. "It's a work of art. Thanks."Just as he stood up to leave, LeRoy's hand had moved and was now on his crotch. "What the Hell are you doing?"

"Come on, Burt," LeRoy smirked. "We're the same, I can tell. You play the role of a dutiful house-husband and father...but you like having that cock sucked often and well. I can do that. Four minutes, and no one will know."

"I'm not gay," Burt stated, trying not to remember that this was what his son would probably be doing in a few years.

LeRoy laughed lightly. "Neither was I until I got head from a guy." He bent down to try and undo the other man's pants.

"No!" Burt snapped before he could stop himself. LeRoy stopped and slowly straightened up. "No."

LeRoy blinked, obviously not used to being rejected. He looked down at his feet, ashamed of himself. "Sorry...it's just been a long time for me."

Burt sighed as he walked past the other man, not knowing what to say in this situation.

"Don't tell Hiram, okay?" LeRoy suddenly burst out as he turned around, making Burt pause. "We're not doing well."

Burt raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, no wonder."

"Your son seems very..."

"Handsome?" Carole prompted, sticking her tongue out as she cut out the paper bat.

Hiram shook his head. "Nervous." Carole stopped, her smile disappearing. "I don't know, it's just a...feeling I get...a darkness."

Carole just shook her head and changed the subject. "It seems like you and LeRoy are having problems."

"Yeah," Hiram agreed, scoffing to himself slightly as he leaned across the table to grab his own pair of scissors. "He can't keep his dick in his pants."

"What? You caught him cheating?" She seemed appalled, and he laughed.

"Yeah. I'm a sneak and a snoop." There was an awkward silence between the two for a moment; finally, Hiram leaned across the table, holding out his hand. "Carole, that bat is terrible. Let me finish it off."

Kurt hummed to himself as he touched up his hair in the mirror, admiring how he looked from all angles; recently, he and Blaine had been getting really close, and he was starting to like the other teenager quite a lot, so he'd decided to try and make himself look as attractive to Blaine as possible.

From behind him, there was the creaking of floorboards. Frowning to himself, he slowly turned to see if Blaine had just snuck into his room again – no one was there. Slowly, Kurt took a few steps towards his bed, guessing that the creaking was coming from underneath there. He tilted his head, trying to look for the shadow of someone...

A hand came out of nowhere and latched onto his ankle. He screamed out as the person emerged, and saw that it was Becky. "Trick'R'Treat!" She shouted at him, laughing. "Smell my feet, give me something good to eat!"

"Becky?!" Kurt panted, still terrified from the incident.

"I want to be a pretty girl," Becky stated, pulling herself up on the bed post and taking a step towards him. "For Halloween."

"You want what?" Kurt asked in disbelief.

Becky nodded in earnest. "Make me a pretty girl...like you're a pretty boy, Kurt."

Honestly, Kurt wasn't sure what the hell he was meant to do to make her a 'pretty girl', but he agreed to try. He sat the other teenager down on his bed and started to go through his drawers; he, admittedly, had some make-up, but it was mainly for dressing up for occasions such as Halloween. Because of this, he had to quickly sneak over to his Dad and Carole's room to steal – no, borrow – some make-up from his step-mother.

Kurt had put on the radio so that he could hum along as he started to work on Becky's makeover, and stuck his tongue out in concentration. "I'm actually not very good at this," He muttered as he carefully applied some eye shadow to her eyelids, just in case he did it wrong and upset her.

"I don't care," Becky stated, and opened her eyes to try and peer at herself in the mirror. "I like it."

Kurt smiled and moved her head back into place. "Close your eyes again." He started to do some touch-ups on her eye-shadow, blending the colours together so that they were light and pretty. "So, how old are you, Becky?"

"A lady never reveals her age," Becky stated when Kurt started to root through the stolen make-up bag, opening her eyes again. "Is Blaine your boyfriend?"

Kurt stopped looking for what he wanted and looked at her. "Wait, you know Blaine?"

"I talk to him when he comes here," Becky explained. "He likes you, I can tell. He thinks you're a pretty boy." Kurt blushed slightly at the thought and started to spread some rouge on the girl's cheeks. "Are you a virgin?"

"Yes," He scoffed and picked up a hairbrush so that he could brush her hair through. "Why? Aren't you?"

"Hell no!" Kurt smiled in amusement as he started to brush her blonde hair.

"You know, Becky...you can't keep breaking into our house."

"But I like it here!" Becky complained, now turning to glare at the other teenager. "My friends are here."

Kurt was so confused by that admission that he stopped brushing her hair so that he could ponder what she'd said.

Becky took this opportunity to look at herself in the mirror; her mouth fell open. "Wow!" She gaped, starting to smile happily. "Kurt! I look beautiful!"

As she turned to look at him excitedly, Kurt shook her last comment out of his mind; instead, he grinned down at Becky knowingly and continued to pamper her.

"GODDAMMIT! Come here!"

Becky giggled as she ran through the house and into the kitchen, trying to keep away from Sue and her towel.

"Now, who gave that to your face?!" Sue snarled.

"Kurt!"

Sue growled lowly. "That kid's got another cupcake coming to him, that's what!" Sue threw her towel at Becky weakly. "Now, wash that smut off your face!"

"No!" Becky yelled, getting tears in her eyes. "I wanna be a pretty girl!"

"But you're not a pretty girl, and you know it!" Sue snapped before she could help it; by the time she'd realised what she had said, Becky's face had crumpled up. "Becky..."

Becky didn't listen and darted past Sue, avoiding the older woman's hands, so that she could run away and cry in private.

Kurt shivered slightly as he walked down the basement steps. "Blaine?" He called out, looking around for the other teenager. "Blaine? You said you wanted to meet at Midnight..." He took a deep breath as he headed to his right. "Come out, come out wherever you are!"

As he turned back around, he found himself face-to-face with someone in a rubber suit. He let out a gasp, and the person put their hands on his mouth to stop his screams from being heard. They shoved Kurt back against the wall, hands still on the boy's mouth. Just as Kurt started to struggle, he heard someone chuckling – Blaine chuckling. He let out a sigh of relief as the shorter teenage boy took his hands away from Kurt's mouth, reaching back to unzip the mask and pull it from his face.

"You asshole!" Kurt breathed out, slapping him lightly on the chest.

"I scared you," Blaine laughed, throwing the mask to the ground and taking a step closer to the blue-eyed teenager.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "No you didn't," He eyed Blaine from head-to-toes. "Where did you even get this thing? My dad threw it out."

Blaine grinned, closing in so that their faces were only a few centimetres apart. "Finders keepers," He muttered, and pressed his lips against Kurt's. After a few seconds of initial shock, Kurt started to kiss back in earnest, enjoying kissing this boy. When they pulled away, breathing heavily, Blaine just said, "Really, I didn't scare you?"

Kurt smirked slightly, feeling much more confident after kissing Blaine. "I said no."

The two just locked eyes for a moment. "I bet I can."

Once he'd removed the rubber suit, Blaine lit a candle and looked up at his boyfriend. "You have to put your fingers on the other side."

Kurt snorted slightly from his position on the steps. "I don't believe that those boards work."

"Will's gonna answer all your questions," Blaine remarked loudly, trying to be scary. He placed the needed objects in front of him on the board. "He used to live here."

Kurt stood up and walked over to sit opposite Blaine, deciding to play along with his game. "Is Will going to tell me what happened to those jerks who tried to kill us?" He paused. "What did you do to them?"

"I told you," Blaine answered serenely. "I didn't do anything. I had some help." He reached out his hand for Kurt's and placed it on the Ouija board.

Kurt looked down at the board and back up at the shorter boy. "What's in this basement? I want the truth."

"What I'm about to tell you might scare you," Blaine muttered menacingly. "To death."

The tall boy snorted. "I can take it."

Blaine took a deep breath and started his story. "Doctor Will Schuester built this house. And here, in this basement, is where he worked...Will was a doctor to the stars. But he was also a drug addict."

Will eyed the girl in front of him briefly, picking up his cloth of ether and smelling it before he started his work.

"But his wife, Terri, wasn't about to let that get in the way of her lifestyle. So she set up a little, secret side business; he would take care of girls who didn't wanna be in trouble anymore."

The girl panted harshly, going quite pale as she tried to block out what was happening.

"This went on and on, until one day, a girl couldn't keep the secret to herself...and she told her boyfriend what happened."

The phone rang out, and Terri picked it up. "Schuester residence," She murmured down the phone tiredly. "Whoever this is, it's past ten, you shouldn't be calling at this hour."

"An eye for an eye..." A voice growled out.

Terri's eyebrows furrowed. "Who is this?"

"...A tooth for a tooth..."

Terri shook her head to herself. "I won't tolerate this nonsense any longer unless you-" She was cut off by the dial tone. She quickly put the phone back down on the receiver and turned to her husband, who was nursing a drink. "Will...I've just had the most peculiar conversation..."

And then it hit her.

She quickly ran from the room, ignoring her husband's odd look, and ran up the stairs to her baby's room. When she got there, the windows were wide open, and the baby's crib empty. "Will..." She murmured, feeling as though she was about to faint. "Oh my God...WILL!"

Blaine paused for dramatic effect, staring straight at his boyfriend with a ghostly expression. "The boyfriend wanted revenge. So he kidnapped Will and Terri's baby. Terrified, the Doctor and his wife waited for the ransom demands."

Kurt didn't speak, instead listening to Blaine's tale.

"This is your fault, Will!" Terri called out again, pouring herself a tall glass of wine. Just as she put the bottle down, there was a knock at the door, and her head snapped up to see what was going on.

Will walked up to the door to open it, shoes clicking on the floor. "What is the meaning of this?" He snapped – he stopped when he saw that he was faced with two policemen, one of whom was holding a box.

The second policeman flipped the lid off the box and stepped back, obviously wanting Will to look for himself. Frowning, Will reached in and pulled out whatever was inside; a jar. As he got a good look at it, Terri had creeped up behind him, curious as to what was going on. "Will?"

Will had frozen, horrified by what he'd found. He stepped back in horror, trying to get away from it.

"Will?" Terri repeated, walking forwards to look at the jars. "What is it, Will?"

The second policeman rushed forwards to hold her back. "No, madam! There's no need for you to see this!"

"Driven insane by grief, the doctor used all of his experience in surgical skills to try and cheat death."

"Will," Terri called out weakly, arms outstretched with a baby's christening gown draped over them. "I want to bury our son in this, Will."

Will didn't look up from his sewing, keeping both eyes trained on his work.

Terri stopped in the doorway, and looked around; her face paled as she realised what was going on. "Will?" She started to cry, shoulders shaking as she saw Will hold up a tiny hand. "What are you doing?" He didn't respond, instead pushing the needle through the skin at the bottom of the hand and connecting it to a tiny arm. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO OUR BABY?!"

"What he'd created was un-Godly," Blaine stated, now standing above Kurt. "And monstrous. And even after their tragic end, that thing remained down here...to this day."

Kurt's mouth had fallen open. "Oh my God," He muttered, and the shorter boy smirked. "That is the biggest load of crap I've ever heard!" Blaine frowned. "Forget it. Forget I said anything." He stood up and started to walk past Blaine. "And I'm tired that we keep hanging out in this dark dank place. Why can't we go somewhere? You know...on a real date?"

Blaine, who had been staring at the wall opposite, jumped into action. "Fine," He said quickly, and reached out to clasp Kurt's hands. "Tomorrow night, we'll go out." Kurt smiled widely, clearly pleased with this arrangement. From upstairs, they heard footsteps. "You know, your father doesn't really want me hanging around this house without his permission..."

"Come on," Kurt prompted, tugging at Blaine's hand and pulling him away. "I'll be the look-out."

When they'd gone, the candles flickered out.

True to his word, Burt arranged to meet up with Blaine the day after. He'd sent Blaine off to go and grab them some coffees, and then sat on a bench to watch the children run around in their costumes.

"Wow," Blaine commented, coming back with their coffees in his hands. "There's so many different flavours." He sat down and handed a coffee to the older man. "It's freaky, I dunno half of them."

"What did I say?" Some woman walking past scolded her child, frowning at him. "No eating them until we inspect them at home!"

Burt and Blaine both looked around awkwardly; across the street, Burt spotted a tiny little boy with brunette hair chatting animatedly to his mother. Blaine saw and smiled too. "That kid reminds you of Kurt, doesn't he?" Burt grinned a little and nodded.

"Kurt...come on, little man!" Elizabeth called, waiting for him to come out of his room and show them his costume.

Seconds later, Kurt stepped outside; he was wearing his little Ariel wig and hopped out happily in his little tail. "How do I look?"

Both of the adults gave noises of appreciation. "You look amazing, kiddo," Burt grinned, giving him the thumbs up; he wasn't quite used to his son cross-dressing for Halloween, but if it made his little boy happy, then he didn't care.

"He had to be cute," Burt muttered, completely forgetting about the teenager sitting opposite. "My brave little boy. Just like his Mom, you know? Smart, and...adorable. No need to be like all the other little boys and fit in the crowd." He tiredly rubbed his temples and looked up at Blaine. "The thing was...I was a punk-ass kid too. Kinda like you, Blaine. I didn't do great in school, and didn't expect a lot of myself. Then again, no one else did either. A total shock to everyone when I actually graduated – didn't think I'd do well enough."

Blaine nodded, greatly intrigued as seeing his boyfriend's dad so...so different.

"But somehow," Burt continued, disbelief etched on his face. "I was given this...amazing gift of a family; Kurt's mother was beautiful and smart, and I dunno what she ever saw in me. And then Kurt came along and..." He trailed off, sighing and putting his head in his hands.

Blaine furrowed his eyebrows slightly. "Hey," He tried, and put his hand out to touch the older man's arm. "It's gonna be okay, Mister Hummel."

"I'm sorry," Burt apologised immediately, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes; Blaine hadn't even realised that he'd been crying. "I'm sorry, Blaine."

"Becky!"

Becky didn't answer, and just sat up on the bed.

"Becky?" Sue opened the door and walked into her bedroom, holding a shopping bag. Becky looked away when Sue looked at her, and the older woman's shoulders slumped. "Come on, Becky! Where's your costume?"

"I'm not going this year," Becky stated, not looking at the tall woman. "I'm too old."

"It's Halloween. Everyone gets a chance to be someone else," Sue stated, taking a few steps forwards and sitting down on the bed. The teenager looked up, and Sue gave her a knowing smile. "I thought you wanted to be a pretty girl."

Becky slowly started to smile as Sue held up the bag she was holding; the woman reached in and pulled out a mask with a wig attached, extending her arm to Becky so that she could take it.

"Ta-da," Sue murmured, smiling at the wide grin on her daughter's face. "Now you don't even have to worry about make-up." She tickled at Becky's face. "Let me see that gorgeous smile of yours..."

Becky laughed, and Sue just grinned even more.

"Come on," She decided, standing up and pulling Becky along with her. "Let's see if I've got any clothes that'll fit you...maybe one of the maternity dresses in the attic."

Hiram hummed to himself lightly as he checked that all of the decorations were in place for that evening; he needed everything to be perfect, the costumes, the decorations...everything.

"What is that racket?" He heard Carole ask from behind of him.

"Spooky sounds!" Hiram said in a loud and booming voice, turning around to make sure that her costume was perfect. His smile disappeared quickly. "Really?"

Carole looked down at herself; it wasn't as if any cleavage was showing, and her baby bump hadn't even started to form yet. "What?"

"Let's see," Hiram commented critically. "The first impression anyone's going to have - before they ever experience my meticulously planted candy scare station - is of you going to the front door in that; some sort of witch outfit...Ugh!"

To make matters even worse, Burt had come down the stairs dressed in his vampire costume at that moment, and stopped when he noticed the argument that was going on.

"But never fear," Hiram joked sarcastically. "Count Dracula's here to really add some class."

Burt raised an eyebrow at him. "What's the matter?"

Carole looked between the two of them, just as confused. "I don't think he likes our costumes."

As she stalked off to check on the apple-bobbing station, Hiram sighed. "Well, there's nothing that can be done about it now – the doorbell's going to be ringing, and we still have to decorate the bobbing station properly."

"What do you think I'm doing?" Carole snapped, and he spun to look at the barrel of water and apples.

He froze up completely.

"What the Hell is this?" He spat, not moving.

From behind him, LeRoy appeared. "Hiram, please..."

"Gala apples," Hiram stated, leaning forwards to look properly. "We specifically talked about Granny Smiths."

Burt snorted. "They didn't have any of those in the market."

"Then you drive out of town to look," Hiram snarled, glaring at him and taking a menacing step closer. "Where the Hell is the effort?"

Burt and Carole shared a look. "I think you're overreacting a little bit," Carole said, frowning at him.

"Why? Because I'm the only one who gives a shit?!" There was a long silence before he spoke again, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "I think you and your family should just leave."

"You think we should leave our house?" Carole asked, outraged at such a thing.

Hiram and LeRoy both glared at the other couple. "It's. Not. Your. House. We know it, you know it, and the house knows it. Frankly, you don't deserve it."

"Get out!" Burt snarled, getting angry now.

"Just leave!" Carole agreed.

LeRoy snorted. "We are not leaving this house-"

This was when Carole lost it; she straightened up and yelled at them, "GET OUT! GET OUT NOW!", moving forwards and knocking the decorations over.

From the corner of Hiram's eye, he spotted a figure in a rubber suit watching what was going on. "You shouldn't have to watch this," LeRoy murmured quietly, and Hiram willingly let his partner lead him away.

Once they had gone, there was an awkward silence. Burt just stared at his wife shocked at her outburst. "Are you okay?"

She just nodded, breathing harshly.

"Well," He mumbled, scratching his head and looking utterly ridiculous in his costume. "You shouldn't really be stressing...because of the bab-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Carole had doubled over in pain. "Oh God."

"What?" He asked, panicking. "What is it?"

She shook her head in disbelief. "It...It feels like the baby's kicking..."

"Kicking? Carole, it's only eight weeks old!"

She didn't respond, instead clutching at her stomach. Making a quick decision, he started manoeuvre her towards the front door by her shoulders. "Come on, we gotta get you to the hospital."

"What's going on?" Finn asked, coming from upstairs. "I heard yelling and crashing...woah, Mom! Are you alright?"

"Does she look alright?" Burt snapped, and Finn paled quite a lot. "Look, you and your brother just stay here and don't answer the door-"

"No way!" Finn argued just as Kurt came down the stairs too. "I wanna come with – it's my Mom, and my baby brother or sister in there!"

"And what do you mean, don't answer the door?" Kurt asked, having caught the last ten seconds of the conversation. "It's Halloween!"

"Look, let me come!" Finn pleaded, ignoring that his mother was obviously in pain. "I don't like being left home alone-"

Burt sighed. "Fine, fine. You get her to the car!" Finn nodded, and started to help his mother out the door. Burt turned to his son. "Kurt, you stay here until we get back, alright?"

Kurt blinked, not a hundred percent sure about what was happening. "O-Okay...text me to say what's going on, alright?"

To try and ease off the unease he was feeling at being home alone, Kurt had retreated back to his bedroom and put his earphones in as he listened to his iPod. He'd left a dish full of candy for any Trick'R'Treaters to have, and wasn't planning on being disturbed.

Outside, Becky had dressed up with her mask and one of the dresses that Sue had in the attic. She'd been ringing on the doorbell for a couple of minutes, wanting Kurt to see how pretty she looked. "Trick-Or-Treat!" She called through the door.

A group of tall and attractive teenage girls dressed as a group of sexy zombies walked up to the house and took a handful of candy each to put in their buckets. They looked at Becky and started to laugh. "Ha! It says take one," The leader pointed out, smirking at her. "Can't you read?"

Becky blinked. "I'm a pretty girl! I want Kurt to see!"

The girls looked at each other and giggled. "Short bust," A second one teased, and the group turned away to go to the next house.

Becky started to walk after them, clearly wanting to be a part of their group. "Hey!" She called, hoping that they'd stop. When they didn't, she started to jog towards them. "Wait for me!"

She didn't look as she ran out into the road; she didn't hear the car coming.

As the group turned to look at her, a car raced down the road and hit her straight on, knocking her down and running over her. The driver didn't stop or turn back.

As Becky lay there, not dead yet but dying slowly, people started to scream as they realised what they had just seen.

"No, no!" A nurse pleaded, pulling her colleague away from what appeared to be a man's bloody face. "That's a mask! No, he broke his leg!"

Honestly, Burt hated hospitals; even more so on Halloween, because hospitals were just full of people who'd had too much fun and injured themselves.

"It's gonna be okay, Mom," Finn repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time. "It's gonna be okay."

"Sorry to keep you waiting," A round-faced nurse apologised, smiling at them as she drew the privacy partition and sat down. "Are you presently feeling any pain in the abdominal area?"

"I just feel really sick," Carole admitted, trying not to wince when the nurse lifted her dress so that she could get to her stomach. "I haven't been feeling any of the kicking since we left home a half an hour ago."

"Well, I'm sure it's not kicks that you're feeling," The nurse said reassuringly, starting to squirt gel onto her stomach. "After all, the baby's only the size of a kidney bean at eight weeks..."

Carole bit her lip. "I know. That's why I'm worried; I think that there's something wrong with this baby."

"Well, I'm sure it's just gas, but we'll take a look and make sure that everything is perfect."

Burt and Finn looked at each other; Burt reached out to clasp his wife's hand, and Finn put a hand on her shoulder reassuringly, starting his "it's gonna be okay" mantra again under his breath.

The nurse stared at the screen, trying to see what was going on in the picture. She frowned at them slightly. "And you're sure about the timeline?"

"Yeah," Burt muttered confidently. "Eight weeks."

"Well, the baby seems a little bigger," The nurse reported, going back to looking at the screen. "Okay, here we go..."

There was a very long silence that hung in the air as she gazed at the screen; the other three looked around at each other nervously.

And then the nurse collapsed backwards.

Carole shot upwards, eyes widening in horror. "Oh my God!"

Finn quickly moved, crouching to get a look at the nurse. "She's knocked out cold."

Burt rolled his eyes slightly. "Thanks, Finn, we didn't quite realise. I'm gonna go and get some help."

Soon, the ambulances had started to turn up. A crowd had gathered to watch in horror as medics pulled out a folded up gurney from the vehicle.

Sue, who had see the flashing lights from her bedroom and feared the worst immediately, pushed through the crowd and found herself faced with a mother's worst nightmare. "Oh…sweet Jesus." Tears started to pool in her eyes and she put a hand to her mouth as if trying not to vomit. She got onto her knees besides Becky, checking for a pulse just as an EMT did the same thing. "What happened?"

"She just walked into the street," A young woman said helplessly, tear track glistening on her cheeks.

"It was a hit and run," A cop informed Sue, giving her a pitying look.

Sue let out a choking noise as she looked down at her daughter. "Is she d-dead?"

"We're doing everything we can, m'am," The medic opposite said, getting ready to lift Becky's body.

Sue shook her head. "No! We've gotta get her to the lawn! Over there, while she's still with us." As she struggled to reason with the EMTs, the cops and bystanders watched with tears in their eyes, none of them quite understanding why Sue had made her request. "IF YOU CAN'T HELP ME," Sue yelled, pushing them away from her and silencing the men. "THEN GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

With that, she started to drag Becky's body away from the crowd, half-crying-half-yelling in desperation. "Come on, Becks…we gotta get you home! W-With all your friends! J-Just hold on a little longer…"

The EMTs looked around at each other, at a loss for words.

"Just…Just a little further!" Sue pleaded, nearly on the grounds of Murder House. "Just a few more feet-" Sue collapsed on the grass by the house, out of breath. Acting quickly, she got onto her knees besides Becky to check that she still had a pulse…

She didn't.

"No…" Sue whispered, a rebellious tear streaking down her cheek. "Becky…" She leaned down and rested her head on Becky's for a moment, dry sobs starting to take over her body.

Santana tried not to squirm as she walked through the hallways of the nursing home, the stench already overwhelming her nostrils. As she walked to her mother's room, she passed an elderly man with a drip in his arm. Looking down, Santana saw that a tube was poking out from under his trouser leg, leaving a trail of urine on the floor. Taking a deep breath, she walked a little faster.

When she found her mother's room, she felt a pang in her heart; the older woman was lying in bed, weak, with a machine attached to help her breathe. Santana blinked the tears out of her eyes and sat down by her bedside, running a hand over the other woman's. "Oh, mother…you always had the most beautiful hands."

Now they were wrinkled with age, veins prominent along them and her arms. "What have they done to you?" Santana whispered to herself in horror as her eyes fell on her mother's face. She reached her free hand to gently touch it. "This is all my fault…I-I wasn't there for you…" Unable to hold it in, her face crumpled up as she tried to keep back the tears. "I-I'm so s-s-sorry!"

That was when she made her decision; she eyed the machine pumping oxygen into her mother's body, and how ancient her mother had become. Santana looked around quickly, not wanting to be caught. When she saw that the coast was clear, she gently put her mother's hand down onto the bed again and stood up so that she could see what she was doing. Hands shaking, the Latina maid slowly touched the plastic hooked into the old woman's mouth, and gently pulled it out. Oxygen started to whoosh out, and Santana collapsed backwards again, unable to stand it.

The bleeping heart monitor briefly quickened…seconds later, it went flat. Santana bit her lip, trying not to cry again as she moved to sit on the bed next to the older woman's body, taking her hands again.

"Come with me, baby" She heard her mother plead from behind her, and Santana lost it.

"I want to," She cried, tears splashing down her cheeks. "I want to, mother, but I can't! I-I c-c-c-can't!"

When she turned to face her mother's ghost, she was gone.

Kurt had been reading when the doorbell went off. He'd turned his music off a while ago, and was now trying to relax a little more. His eyes flickered to the doorway of his bedroom briefly, wondering whether or not he should answer it.

What if it's Dad and Carole? He asked himself as the bell went off again. Sighing to himself nervously, he rolled off his bed and stood up. He couldn't help but feel terrified that the home invaders had come back, and he slowly made his way out of his bedroom and downstairs.

As Kurt descended the stairs, that was when he heard the yelling. "GODDAMIT, I WANT MY MONEY, FINN HUDSON!" Kurt blinked as the person continued to pound on the door, and slowly walked up to the door. "I WANT MY THOUSAND DOLLARS!"

Kurt quietly peeped through the peep-hole, curious as to what was going on. Standing outside there was a tall teenage boy with a Mohawk; he was also scarred badly on one side, and didn't look too pleased.

"FINN HUDSON!" The guy yelled, ringing the doorbell again. "Dude, open the fuckin' door! I'm not leavin' here until I have my thousand dollars! SCREW YOU! YOU OWE ME!"

From behind him, a group of small children had come running up to the door.

"Oh! Here…take one…AND GO!"

Kurt felt goose-bumps on the back of his neck rise as the children screamed, running away. Making a quick decision, he backed away from the door and pulled his phone out of his back pocket. He quickly dialled his father's mobile number, terrified.

"Hey, Kurt," Burt said, putting the phone to his ear. "Everything o-"

"Dad," He heard Kurt interrupt. "There's some scarred guy at the door asking about money."

"Money?"

"Yeah…is he a friend of Finn's?"

Burt coughed. "Let me ask." He leaned forwards, looking at his step-son to do the same. Finn blinked. "Were you having friends over tonight? There's a guy at the house who keeps asking about money."

Finn paled considerably. "N-No."

Burt didn't believe him, but put the phone back to his ear. "Kurt, just keep the door locked. We'll be home soon…just keep the door locked."

Kurt nodded to himself and hung up the call.

"Ooohhh…" The person on the other side of the door said quietly. "Is that your father? Or your brother?" He banged on the door again. "OPEN UP!"

The doorbell rang. It rang again. And again.

On the fourth ring, Kurt didn't see the rubber man walk to stand in the doorway, right behind him.

The figure tilted his head and took a small step forwards.

Burt had driven home at top speed. He didn't even bother shutting his car door as he jumped out; to his dismay, the candy that they'd left out was all over the floor, and no one was there ringing the doorbell. Finn seemed relieved, but the three of them immediately became concerned for Kurt's well-being.

"KURT!" Burt yelled, shoving the door open. Carole followed behind him, distraught and disorientated. "Kurt! Where are you?!"

"He probably can't hear over the alarm," Carole guessed, heading to go upstairs. Finn quickly rushed to silence the house alarm, typing in the code quickly. "Kurt?! Sweetie?"

"Kurt!" Finn called, heading for the kitchen. "Kurt, dude! This isn't funny!"

Carole bit her lip as she scanned his bedroom. "Burt, he's not here!"

Burt stiffened up as he searched the Living Room. "S-Someone call his cellphone!"

At that moment, there was a knock at the door. Thinking it was Puck, Finn hurriedly yelled an "I'LL GET IT!" and jogged to open the door.

When he yanked it open, however, he found himself face-to-face with none other than Quinn Fabray. She gave him small smirk, her hair messy and eyes dark.

Finn slammed the door shut in her face.

Reviews greatly appreciated - no, really, I have no clue about what I'm gonna do for the next chapter.