That day, Kurt went home right after sixth period, too shaken from the earlier events to even think about let alone see Blaine once more. He could just get the notes and homework from Mercedes anyway. Glee club could wait as well.

Surprisingly, when he arrived home, he found his father's truck parked in the driveway. Upon entering the house, Kurt had found him lounging on the couch engrossed in a recorded football game from the previous weekend.

"Dad? What are you doing home so early?" Burt paused his game and turned to face Kurt who was standing in the doorway.

"Finished up in the shop early today," he said with a shrug.

"Okay, well I was going to start dinner in a bit, have any requests?"

"No, whatever's fine." He turned back to the TV, but paused before he could start it up again. "Ain't you supposed to be at school right now?" Kurt froze and stiffened. He couldn't tell his dad about Blaine. About what happened that day. The man would surely be killed. As much as he feared the vampire, he didn't want him to be killed for what he'd done. He could have done much worse, and for that, Kurt was thankful.

"Um, yeah. But I wasn't feeling well so I decided to leave a bit early, is all. Flu season and all that." Burt grunted in response, already engulfed in the world of football once more. Kurt smiled and shook his head. Men.

He ran down to his room to drop off his things and change clothes before heading back up to the kitchen to start dinner. After looking in the fridge and the cabinets, he decided on a chicken Parmesan bake with Caesar salad on the side. It would take him a little while to make, thankfully. He could use the time to clear his head of the day's events.

He lost himself in cooking, letting all the worries from the earlier day be wiped away from his mind. His thoughts eventually wandered to the day before when he was cornered by Karofsky and his friends. He replayed the scene over in his head, wondering what the light that sent them all flying through the air was. Maybe his dad would know.

He decided to bring up the topic in the middle of dinner an hour or so later.

"Dad, can I ask you a question?" he asked hesitantly. Burt set his silverware down and turned his attention to his son.

"What's up, bud?"

Kurt didn't know how to phrase his thoughts, so he asked bluntly.

"Do we, Seelie, I mean, have some sort of powers? Or magic?" Burt sighed at his son's question. His mother was supposed to be the one to explain this kind of stuff to Kurt, not him.

"First off, where is this coming from? Did something happen that you're not telling me about?" he asked with his protective dad face on.

"Um, kinda? That's not important though, since I don't actually know what happened," Kurt answered slowly.

"To hell it's not important, Kurt! If something's going on I want to know about it!" Burt ground out.

"Dad, please," Kurt begged, "If something was going on I would tell you about it. I promise." Burt sighed but nodded reluctantly.

"Well, why don't you tell me what you think happened and we'll go from there," Burt proposed, taking off his cap and running his hand over his bald head. Kurt then set down his silverware.

"After school yesterday, some kids were… agitating me and I went off on them. I got really angry with a few of them and started screaming, and this bright light comes out of me and sends them flying to the ground. I don't think they were hurt or anything, though," he finished, hoping his story was far enough from the truth that his father wouldn't suspect anything bad.

Burt blew out a large breath once more. "You wanna clean these up and we can move to the living room to talk?"

Kurt nodded and set to work. Once the dishes were in the dishwasher and leftovers in the fridge, he made his way into the living room to find Burt clutching a time-worn envelope in his hands.

"This should explain some of it, I hope," he said, handing the envelope to Kurt. The boy took it gingerly and sat in the couch opposite his dad's chair. He opened the letter and the room was instantly filled with the familiar scent of his mother's perfume. It was handwritten in her loopy feminine script.

My Dearest Kurt,

Because you are receiving this letter, I assume you are having questions about who you are. I hope this information can be of help to you.

The Seelie are a race of fairy, as you obviously know. We began a much larger group of people in the lands of Yeats. We were prosperous and thriving. We were the greatest race since the Beginning times. But the humans learned of our existence somehow and sought to destroy us. Since the dark ages, our numbers have greatly diminished, but our reputation certainly has not. We are known to be happy and mischievous, especially towards humans. In the roots of our society grow magic and charm, attracting the even the poorest and sickest of people to see us in action. But, during those times when we were hunted for our powers, the magic locked itself away deep within our souls. It is said that only the purest of hearts are able to access it, and only in times of pain and need. I myself was lucky enough to have this privilege, and I suspect you will as well. If my assumptions are correct, you should begin to develop your abilities near your eighteenth year. At first, you will only be able to access small amounts of magic that only come in the greatest times of need. Over time, you will be able to train yourself to access the deeper reserves of power and use them to your advantage. The abilities of each fairy differ depending on your life's course and what the gods suspect you will need most. In my dresser, if you so happen to have it still, is a book that has been passed down throughout our family for thousands of years. Read it. It will help you.

I advise you to be wise with these powers, my dear. Using them too much or using them for reasons of evil can completely change your soul into a dark, malevolent version of yourself. Be careful, my child. With power comes responsibility. Do not forget that. I love you, my boy. Have a great life, Kurt.

With love,

Your mother, Elizabeth K. Hummel

"Thanks for giving me this, Dad," Kurt whispered as he finished reading his mother's words.

"She told me to give it to you if you ever had questions, and I thought you'd appreciate it."

"I do, so much. Is there anything else important I should know?" he asked with a huff of a laugh.

"Actually, I think there is something she left out of the letter you might want to know," Burt answered with an uncomfortable smile. Kurt was surprised. He hadn't actually meant it, but hey, if he was able to gain info on his kind, why not?

"And that is?"

"I think you're old enough by now to know that all supernatural beings have… mates, of sorts."

"Mates? Like, friends mates or mates mates?" Kurt asked, already knowing (and dreading) the answer.

"The last one. Other's call them soulmates, Companions, Promised Ones, the list goes on. Fairies, we just call 'em mates. Weres are most known for having mates, at least in the human world, but all of us do. The thing is, we only can be mates with other super naturals. And the Seelie are different from the rest of them. We can tell right away if a person is meant to be our mate. We can pass magic, if you have it, to your mate at the first touch. It leaves a bit of a tingly feeling behind wherever your skin touched. Even if neither party has magic, the spark is still there. Your first kiss with your mate is when you really know. It's totally magical. Some species don't have that ability, most don't, which is what makes faeries special and lucky.

"Your mom and I were mates. I remember when we met, it was during a concert in the eighties. She tripped over someone and landed right on me. Her magic flowed through me and I instantly knew that she was meant to be mine. We spent the rest of the night at some 24-hour dinner just talking about ourselves." He smiled at the memory. "But that's not my point. My point is, you need to be prepared when you meet your mate. It's the gods' way of matching you with your other half, the person who completes you. You're stubborn, Kurt. I know that you probably want to find love on your own, without the guidance of the gods. I was the same as you. But trust me, they're worth it. Meeting your mate is one of the best things that can happen to you, whether you want one or not. They were made just for you, accept that. You can't choose your mate, but know that they were made especially for you. You might not know it as soon as you meet the person, but one touch and you just know. It's one of the most magical times of your life, no pun intended. It's a great experience Kurt. Don't ignore it." He blew out a breath. "I think that's about it. Now that that's over, you want to finish watchin' the game with me?"

Kurt smiled but shook his head. "No thanks, Dad. It's been a long day, I just want to sleep. Thanks for everything tonight, really. Goodnight."

"Night, bud."

Kurt traveled down to his basement bedroom and all but collapsed on the bed face first. He read and re-read the letter his mother had written, emotions slamming into him at full force. Right then, he wished for his mother to be there to comfort him, to tell him that everything was going to be okay. His talk with Burt reminded him of why he came home in the first place. The shock that went through his body when he touched Blaine's hand sounded suspiciously like what his father was describing. No. They couldn't be mates. They were basically mortal enemies. Kurt refused to believe that that was possible. The gods wouldn't be so cruel,

But oh, how wrong he'd been.

A week later found Kurt learning the ropes of his magic. Everything his mother had said in her letter seemed to be true. He'd also found the old book in his mother's dresser that explained everything and anything he needed to know about magic and his kind in explicit detail. The book had to be hundreds of thousands of years old; it was leather bound, worn from so many reads, and the pages were a deep yellow color, but it did its job well. He kept it with him at all times, using any spare time he had to try to make a dent in the giant book.

With the book he'd been able to learn basic procedures, like healing small cuts or fixing small broken objects. It was quite fun to learn, he thought. The only downside was that there was so much to learn. He couldn't possibly use everything in the book in his short life time, so he skimmed through most of it and intensely studied what he thought might be useful.

He'd avoided going to Blaine's room third period the rest of that week and the next, choosing instead to hide in the bathroom to read the book. It wasn't that he was still scared of the man for what happened last earlier in the week, no he'd gotten over their incident by know. But he just wanted some alone time to read as much as possible. He knew he'd have to go back eventually, but right then he was more focused on the book and his magic than anything else.

Exactly two weeks since Kurt's incident with Blaine found him in the vampire's room once more. It was just after second period, thankfully meaning that the classroom was empty. He'd been shoved against the lockers by Karofsky again, but the jock didn't walk away like he normally would. Kurt could sense that something was up, just like during their last altercation, and bolted down the hall. Without thinking, he found his way to Mr. Anderson's room. He twisted the knob forcefully and slammed the door behind him before locking it. Blaine jumped out of his seat in surprise.

"Kurt? What are you doing here?" Kurt had his back up against the door, heavily breathing from over exertion. For as much as he ran from people you'd think it wouldn't be an issue.

"Kurt! You're hurt. What happened?" Hurt? What did he mean hurt? Just then Kurt felt something warm and wet trickle down his cheek. His hand instantly flew up and touched it. Blood. His cheek must've caught on the locker grate when Karofsky slammed him.

"I'm fine. It's just a cut. I can heal it," Kurt told him. Blaine's eyebrows scrunched in confusion, his gaze unconsciously fixated on the wound.

"Heal it? What do you mean heal it?" Blaine asked confused. Kurt smiled somewhat proudly.

"I'm a faerie, remember? I have bits of magic, apparently. I can heal it. Watch." Kurt closed his eyes and focused all his thoughts on the cut, just like the book instructed him to. He pictured it closing up and returning to its previous state, and he felt his magic bubble up to the surface from deep within himself and heat his face while it sealed up the slice. His magic receded back within his soul once it was finished doing its job. He opened his eyes once more to find a shell shocked Blaine staring at his face.

"Okay, that was cool," Blaine said in awe. Kurt giggled at his tone, walking towards the desk. He grabbed a tissue from Blaine's box and used it to wipe the remainder of the blood off his cheek.

"Thanks." Kurt smiled.

They stared at each other for a tense moment before Blaine cleared his throat.

"Um, Kurt can we talk for a sec? Just like, two minutes and you can go back to what you've been doing these past few weeks?" He asked, wringing his hands in front of himself.

"Yeah, sure what's up?" Please don't be about the mate thing. Please. You can't know about that.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry. For what happened the other week, I mean. I hope you know that I'm trying my best to make you as comfortable around me as possible, honestly, and I feel like what happened then set us back to the beginning. I never want you to feel uneasy around me. Ever." Kurt sighed.

"I appreciate that, I really do, but Blaine, no matter what you do or say, I think I'll forever be terrified of you. It's starting to get old, being afraid of you everytime I see you," he laughed dryly, "but with our families' histories I just can't help but feel that way. So I'm sorry about that. I know you just want me to feel comfortable around you, and trust me, I'm trying, but you're right. We were kinda sent back to the start. But you shouldn't be sorry for the other week. That was completely my fault and I freaked out. Don't blame yourself, please." They'd gravitated closer to each other by the end of Kurt's spiel. Blaine nodded before looking down at the floor.

"Thank you. You trying is all I could ever ask for," Blaine murmured, even if he still had no idea why he felt that way.

"Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something? Something I'd really like the answer to?"

"Anything."

"Why?" Blaine looked back up at Kurt, confusion etched into his expression. He shook his head slightly as if to ask, "Why what?"

"Why do you not want me to be afraid? Why are you trying to make me comfortable?" Blaine looked to the floor once more, thinking of how he wanted to formulate his response. He clenched his eyes shut before whispering his next words.

"Because I know what it feels like to be terrified of someone that could kill me without breaking a sweat" he admitted, "and I wouldn't wish that feeling upon my worst enemy. I know what you're going through with me, and I guess I just want to make your life a little easier by trying to help you realize you have nothing to be afraid of. I'll admit, at first I just wanted you on my good-side so that you or your family wouldn't do anything to me, but I realized how wrong that was early on. I just want you to feel in control and know that I will never do anything to harm you as long as we know each other," he promised. Kurt sighed and shook his head.

"My mind knows that your intentions are pure and that you would never harm me, if what you're saying is true, but my body and soul aren't really on the same page. I've had ten years of fear ingrained in my soul, and it's not easy to get rid of that in the drop of a hat. It's self-preservation, really. If I'm scared of something I stay away from it to protect myself and the ones I love. But I don't want to be afraid anymore. Trust me when I say that I'm making progress, though. Or at least trying to."

"Again, thank you." Blaine blew out a breath. "Did you want to go back to whatever you've been doing these past few weeks now that that's said and done?" he asked. Kurt shook his head slightly.

"I'd rather just stay in here for the rest of the period, if that's okay with you," Kurt said. He didn't want to risk another run in with Karofsky. "There's only ten minutes or so left in the period anyways."

"Of course you can stay in here. This is where you're supposed to be, anyways," he teased. Kurt smiled.

"About that, I promise I'll start coming back here when I'm supposed to. I just needed some alone time to catch up on some things. Besides, I'm sure you're completely dysfunctional without me here. And we wouldn't want that, now would we?" Blaine smiled and shook his head.

"But, of course not! I'd be at such a loss without my trusty faerie assistant," he said with a hand over his heart. Kurt laughed and crossed his arms.

"Gods, you're such a dork."

"Aw." Blaine mock frowned, causing Kurt to giggle once more. "That's mean," he pouted.

"But true."

"Maybe. But that just makes you as much of a dork. Or more. You started it."

"Fine. We can be dorks together."

"Well, don't I like the sound of that."

Over the next month and a half, Kurt and Blaine developed a system of sorts for their third periods together. Kurt would come in as the last bell rang and would sit in the middle of the room so that he was within equal distance to just about everything. On his desk every day was a stack of papers and detailed instructions on what to do with them. Blaine did this so that they didn't have to talk or interact, they could just be. He wanted Kurt to be comfortable, and if that was something he had to do at that moment in time, then he would.

When Kurt finished his work, he had the option to stay and just hang out until the period ended, or he could leave if he felt like it. Some of the time when he only had tiny amounts of work, he would run to the Lima Bean down the street and pick them up some coffee to keep them awake in the silence. They occasionally spoke, but at Kurt's request it was only little bits to allow him to become acquainted with the man by just his presence.

They were able to stay in their harmony for longer than either expected, and it helped them each be at ease with the other.

So after weeks and weeks of the same routine, Blaine was slightly worried when Kurt didn't show up with the bell the day before Thanksgiving break. He shrugged it off at first, deciding that Kurt was just running a little bit late and that it was absolutely nothing to worry about… right?

Ten minutes into the period, he started to become antsy. Did he have to make up some work? No, he hadn't missed any classes recently, a quick check with the computer told him. Was he on a coffee run? Maybe, but he would've checked in first, right? Was he skipping school? No, the computer says he's here. Did another teacher need him? No, most of them already an assistant they could call on. Was he in the nurses' office? That seemed plausible. Maybe he was just feeling a bit under the weather. It was flu season after all.

Satisfied with his answer, the teacher returned to grading the huge stack of tests that he took on since Kurt wasn't there to help him.

Twenty minutes later with no word from anybody was when Blaine became truly worried. The nurse should have let him know by now if she had Kurt in the office.

So where was he?

He completely abandoned his work for the time being to instead let his mind fill with worry over the boy.

He could be anywhere. No amount of wondering could bring Blaine to an answer that seemed right. Fed up with the worrying, Blaine stood from his desk and walked out of the classroom.

In an instant, a familiar metallic scent filled his nose. Blaine stopped dead in his tracks.

Blood.

More specifically, Kurt's blood.

And judging by how strong the smell was, there was a lot of it.

Blaine was sent into a frenzy. How could he have let something happen to Kurt? More importantly what happened to Kurt? And why?

He closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose, letting the sweet metallic spice lead his way. He followed it, barreling down the hallway.

As he got closer and closer to the source, the scent became stronger and stronger. Blaine wanted to cry. They boy couldn't possibly be alive with the amount of blood he had to have lost.

Blaine rounded one more corner and reached his destination, the source of the overpowering smell: The boy's locker room.