It was getting progressively harder to go to school each day. Bully Whips had cost him most of his friends; the prank at prom had led to plenty of hushed jokes at David's expense (though no one actually believed David was gay. It was just fun to make fun of the school's biggest bully-turned NARC) and now this thing with Kurt. His one saving grace was that he and Kurt had absolutely no overlapping aptitudes; they had no classes together.

That first day, seeing Kurt in the full throes of late pregnancy, had broken something inside of him. He couldn't deny it anymore; he liked Kurt. Not just as a mentor or a friend. There was something about Kurt that made Dave feel light headed and heavy chested. But Kurt had gotten his wish; he had won his prince and whether Blaine liked it or not, he was stuck with Kurt. Even if Kurt and Blaine eventually split, they would still be bound for the next eighteen years by dint of their child.

With his favorite class – Calculus II – over for the day, the rest of the day was looking bleak. He didn't even look forward to football practice. He didn't really care all that much for sports; the exercise was the only reason he stuck with football. Exercising solo was hit or miss; sometimes the excuses not to exercise were more enticing than the reasons to exercise. Organized sports worked well through peer pressure; if he wasn't pulling his weight, everyone rode his ass and harassed him about it. If he didn't show up, everyone rode his ass and harassed him about it. He needed to stay in shape though. His future career depended on it.

xoxoxo

He really hated people sometimes. They were judgmental, cruel, prejudiced, you name it. Sometimes Kurt thought teenage boys were the ones who should be registered with the Bureau of Human Subspecies and confined to Redzones when they were in one of their asshole modes.

As it was, teenage boys were the ones society considered normal; their actions were generally justified as "boys will be boys." How did people not realize that the idiom led to the issue, not the other way around?

Kurt's back hit the lockers again. This time a combination lock hit him just below the shoulder blade. He tried not to grunt too loudly; he didn't want them to get the satisfaction of hearing him in pain.

"Just a goddamned whore. You suck him off while he sucked your blood?"

Kurt braced himself as they shoved against him again. "Clever; you Google that all on your own?" He landed on the floor with an unceremonious "oomph." One of the jocks pulled his leg back, making to kick Kurt as he laid on the floor. Kurt curled in on himself: his knees pulled up against his stomach, his arms wrapped around his midsection. Normally, he'd wrap his arms around his head, but he couldn't afford to leave his stomach exposed in any way. There was a loud thump, but nothing struck Kurt. Even still, he pulled in tighter on himself, curling up like an armadillo.

xoxoxo

David saw red. He had never thought of the saying as being literal, but he really did seem to see red. If he were thinking logically at the moment he'd assume it had something to do with the adrenaline causing an increase in blood flow causing the hemoglobin near his corneas to become visible. Or perhaps it was a form of synesthesia; when something in the brain short circuits causing senses to become mixed up. Or perhaps the saying was just so ingrained into the cultural language that his perception of a red-tinged world was psychosomatic. Either way, like an angry bull, he saw red and charged. It was like something primal in him had been unleashed. The only thing he cared about right now was protecting Kurt, protecting Kurt's baby and throttling the two jocks shoving him around.

He tackled the one about to kick Kurt. He couldn't begin to control himself as he pulled back his fist and just startled pummeling. He wouldn't have stopped if the second jock hadn't pulled him off. Instead of retaliating though, the second jock grabbed his fallen comrade by the arm, pulled him up and the two fled down the hall. David probably would have chased after them if Kurt hadn't chosen that moment to peek out and murmur "Dave?"

That tiny little voice pulled Dave back to himself. It was like he had been having an out of body experience: completely out of control and just watching from somewhere else as he acted. Kurt's voice anchored him, though. "Are you ok?"

Kurt slowly unfolded and pushed himself into a sitting position. His eyes were wide and slightly panicked. "I think…I think my water broke."

Now David's eyes went wide. He looked Kurt over; sure enough, Kurt's pants were wet. Either his water had broken or he'd pissed himself during the fight…not that David could blame him if it were the latter. "Ok…um…ok. Let's get you to the nurse." David placed one arm under Kurt's knees, the other under his arms and picked him up as he stood.

"No! Not the nurse, please!" One of Kurt's arms was slung around David's neck and David could feel it grip tightly at him.

"You need help, Kurt."

"Not the nurse. She'll make me go to the hospital. Bad things happen to unhumans at the hospital."

David stopped short. He had been headed in a straight line towards the nurse's office, but Kurt was right. Everyone knew it; no one denied it. Unhumans that went to the hospital were three times more likely to not come out than normal people. What better time to destroy the creatures than when they were already weak and vulnerable? Unhuman babies were especially susceptible to fatality at hospitals. It was so easy for something to go "wrong": there would be no inquest. Even if there were, the investigation would get buried under more "priority" cases or completely tossed out. "Ok…so what do we do?"

"Behind the stage, there's a costume room back there. It's quiet and away from everyone else. I can do this on my own."

Trust Kurt to be stubborn and think he didn't need anyone else. "You can't do this alone. I'll help." Where the hell had that come from?

Kurt chuckled softly before grabbing his stomach and wincing. When the contraction had passed, Kurt mumbled quietly, "You really were a boy scout, weren't you?"

"Never wanted to give it up." They kind of frown on scouts that turn into hairy, snarling monsters during camp-outs, though. In the costume room, there was an old couch and a plastic chair. David placed Kurt in the plastic chair and ripped the cushions off the couch. He placed the cushions side by side on the floor. There were a few bolts of fabric on a shelf nearby. He took down a roll of pale green cotton. It was similar to the mint-green that surgeons often wore. David unrolled a few yards over the cushion, trying his best to focus on what he was doing, rather than delay things by stopping every time Kurt groaned in pain: as tempting as it was to hold him and comfort him. David tore the fabric and then ripped off another few yards to cover Kurt. He'd seen this done in movies and television shows, but had never paid too much attention. He remembered the birthing scene in Farewell to Arms, the last book he'd read…he wished Hemingway had been as long-winded describing the birth as he was talking about alcohol. "I'm pretty sure the sheets are supposed to be boiled and sterilized," (they always said that in movies, didn't they? 'Go boil some white sheets') "But we're going to have to make due."

David scooped Kurt back up and placed him gently on top of the cushions. Kurt was already struggling out of his pants as David covered him with the second sheet. David did his best to avert his eyes. "Thank you, David."

David wasn't sure if Kurt was thanking him for not staring at him, for helping him, for being there or what. So rather than respond, he asked the question that had been driving him nuts since he found out Kurt was pregnant. "I'm sure this is tactless of me to ask…but will the baby be born craving blood?"

Kurt groaned. Not in pain, but exasperation. "Blaine isn't the father; the baby's not a vampire."

David narrowed his eyes, "Then what…?"

"The baby is a werewolf."

Pain shot through David's heart. Of all the disgusting, filthy, horrible, evil creatures for Kurt to sleep with…David hated werewolves.

Seven years earlier

David was falling asleep in the backseat of his mother's Corolla. It was getting late; it had to be at least nine at night. The sun was setting earlier and earlier as the fall turned to winter. His mother was driving him back from the movies. It was a monthly thing with him and his mom. He and his dad had sports, he and his mom had movies, the three of them had scouts.

"What the?" His mother pulled the car over to the side of the road. "Don't move, sweety. Someone's on the side of the road…I think it's a hit and run."

Yeah right, like David wouldn't go to look. David undid his seatbelt, pushed the door open about a foot and poked his head out, looking through the window to see a man lying in the gutter on the side of the road. His mother kneeled over the man, pulling out her cell phone, as she looked him over. She was probably going to call dad. Dad was a doctor; he'd tell her what to do.

The man's arm shot out and grabbed at his mom. David fell out of the car he moved so fast, but froze when the man started to change. His arms got longer, his shoulders got bigger and his face warped. It stretched and pulled in strange ways. His skin got darker…no, not his skin. He was growing fur.

David was in shock. He couldn't move, could barely think. His mother let out a choked gurgling; the beast had its clawed paw wrapped around her neck. It slammed her into the ground, silencing the sounds of pain coming from her. It rolled on top of her and began biting and clawing at her. All too soon, his mother was quiet and had stopped struggling. As it occurred to David that his mother was dead, an animal like squeal came from David. It wasn't a cry, wasn't a scream, but it was enough to get the monster's attention. It looked up from its kill...David couldn't think of that lifeless body as his mother; that would make it too real. Something David vaguely recognized as entrails hung from its mouth as it met David's eyes with its own. Growling, it dropped the bloody viscera.

It lunged at him, faster than anything David had ever seen before. David crawled back into the car, trying to pull the door closed behind him. He could feel sharp, thick teeth digging into his calf. He kicked blindly with his free leg and found purchase against the creature's nose, stunning it long enough to release its grip on David. David moved to the far side of the car; the werewolf was too large, too broad to fit in through the door. David pulled the little knob at the top of the seat and felt the seat collapse forward. Half crawling, have dragging himself, David clambered into the trunk and pulled the seat back into the upright locked position. He huddled in the dark, crying as the werewolf pounded and scratched at the hood of the trunk.

Presently

Blood. So much blood. But it was done. David held a furry, wet ball of slime in his hands. Kurt looked on the verge of passing out; he was drenched in sweat, his normally perfectly coiffed hair lying in disarray against his forehead. He was flushed with the effort of pushing and panted as he recovered from the excursion. The baby was a disgusting mess to David, even if it hadn't been an unholy hell-spawn, but Kurt looked at it like the most precious thing he had ever seen. David handed over Kurt's baby. "Congratulations…I have no idea what gender it is." Kurt happily took his baby from David and cuddled it against his cheek, kissing the top of its head without any care as to how gross it was. David grit his teeth seeing that kind of affection for the werewolf pup, but said nothing.

He hated werewolves, but he loved Kurt.