a/n: Sorry for making you all wait so long for another update, but I hope you enjoy this one! This chapter focuses heavily on Kurt and his mother's past (note the title) so I'm immediately going to apologise to the shippers. I promise the next chapter will see some development of Faberry/Bantana. Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! You guys are awesome!

Debra Schuester didn't look how Kurt imagined her. When he imagined Mr. Schue's mom he thought of someone cheerful. Jolly. Curly-haired, probably. In reality, her gray hair was brittle and unmade. She wore ankle boots and corduroys and a loose-fitting sweatshirt and the first thing she did when she led the two teenagers into her home was pour herself a glass of scotch that had been sitting in a clear bottle on top of her liquor cabinet.

Kurt and Tina stood awkwardly in her front room, wondering if they should take a seat on her worn-in brown couch. Her outdated TV set was turned onto Judge Judy. There was no bowls of hard candy or Hummel figurines like in the houses of other old ladies. There were old books and dirty dishes and stains in her shag carpet. A stench of cigarettes clung to the house. Tina kept glancing around anxiously. Kurt could tell she wanted to leave.

Debra took a long gulp of scotch and stared at Kurt over her glass. She silently stared for too long and Kurt wondered if she was drunk.

"Mrs. Schuester-"

"God, you have her eyes," she exhaled, not exactly sounding sober.

Kurt blinked, stunned. "Um, yeah. My dad tells me."

"Your dad. Do you two still live in Lima?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"What are you doing all the way in Cleveland?" she raised a dark gray eyebrow.

Kurt shuffled slightly in his designer boots. "Um... I wanted to talk to you about my mother."

Debra nodded. "Yeah. I imagine. How'd you find out?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You wouldn't be here looking so curious if you didn't know about... what she was."

"A slayer."

Debra grunted and looked Tina up and down. "You should be Melissa's, then. Christina."

"Tina," the teenager corrected timidly, "Yeah. Melissa is my mom."

"And you're here, because...?"

"I wanted Tina to come with me," said Kurt.

"Well, I hate to disappoint you two kids after you came all this way, but I don't think there's anything I can tell you about Elizabeth that you couldn't find out from Burt or Melissa."

"You were with her when she died," Kurt said abruptly.

Debra stared at Kurt for a moment. "And you want me to tell you? About that?"

Kurt nodded quickly, staring back at Debra with wide eyes. "I need to know."

"No, you don't," Debra frowned sternly, "Nobody needs to know. And I'm not interested in telling you that. Sorry you had to come all this way for nothing, but I think you should go now."

Kurt's mouth fell open in protest. "What, but-" he stammered, "I came here to find out-"

"I know why you came here. When she left you, she left a hole in your heart, but you're not gonna fill that hole by finding out every detail about her life," frowned Debra, surly, before she drained the last of her scotch, "Now I think it's best if you leave."

Kurt pursed his pink lips and clenched his pale fists. "I'm not leaving until you tell me what I need to know."

Tina's eyes widened as she glanced between Debra and Kurt, waiting for someone to break the ice that had frozen over the living room. Debra just stared back at him, her face slowly thawing with resolve.

"It's not gonna make you feel better," she said, slight concern in her drawling voice.

"I'm not expecting it to," answered Kurt with a level of defiance still in his voice.

Debra smirked and poured herself a second glass of scotch.

"Well, sit down," she said, sauntering towards her polyester armchair, "It's a long story."

2000

She took some warm clothes and weapons and one family picture. Her thoughts were too muddled to think of what she really needed. She was just throwing random things into her duffel bag, leaving far too much of herself behind. She took her perfume, though, her favorite one. Lilac or lavender. She could never remember. The kid had picked it out because it was purple and had a picture of Paris on it.

"Can you please stop? Can we talk about this?"

"We've talked about this. We can't keep talking about it. We'll end up talking until it's too late and somebody gets hurt."

"Nobody's getting hurt-"

"Everyone's getting hurt!" Elizabeth dropped her duffel bag and stared wide-eyed at Burt, her face getting red and tears glistening under the dim light of the ceiling lamp in their small bedroom, "God, I can't keep doing this!"

"So you're just gonna leave forever?" Burt asked, raising his voice, "And what about me and Kurt? Do we get a say?"

"No. You don't!"

"You're being selfish-"

"Selfish?! No, what's selfish is sitting around playing house acting like everything's fine when I'm this close to getting the people I love killed!"

"We are fine. You are the one who protects us, Elizabeth."

"You wouldn't need to be protected if it wasn't for me," Elizabeth shook her head, tears falling down her cheeks, "Darkness follows me wherever I go. And it'll follow my family."

"Stop it," Burt frowned, "You shine brighter than anyone I've ever met. I need you. Kurt needs you."

"Kurt doesn't need this!" Elizabeth cried, "He's gonna have that scar on his arm for the rest of his life to remind you and me of the danger I put him in."

"And you think that if you leave Lima that danger's gonna go away?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "They have watchers set up around town. If anything gets too hairy, they'll call me. I'll only be in Cleveland. Two hour drive, right?"

"So, what? You'll come back when the town needs you but you won't stay for your family?"

"I'm leaving for my family. You can't see that now but you'll see it later."

"The Hell I will."

"I have to do this, Burt! You know I do. Don't hate me."

"I could never hate you," Burt sighed, and opened his arm for Elizabeth to fall into. She breathed in his scent of aftershave and motor oil, her tears dripping onto his blue button-up shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"Tell the kid that I love him," she sniffed.

"You're not gonna say goodbye?"

"I don't want to wake him up," Elizabeth shrugged, "And I'm not good at that. I wouldn't be able to say goodbye to him if I tried."

"What am I supposed to tell him?"

"Um... I don't know. Make something up."

"I'm not a good liar. You know that."

"You can't tell him the truth. You can never tell him the truth. Promise me."

"Lizzy-"

"Please, promise me," she said, looking up at Burt's face through teary eyes, "I don't want him to think that he has to be like that. That there's darkness in him, too."

Burt frowned. "Okay. I promise."

"Thank you. I love you."

"I love you, too."

"I have to go," she said, looking resigned as she wiped the tears from her blotchy red face.

"Right now?"

"I have an errand to run before me and Debra head to Cleveland."

"What is it?"

"Nothing, just... I want to make sure that the kid has all the protection he can get."

Burt raised a skeptical eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"Don't worry about it, Burt. Just... Let him know that everything I did was for him. And that he's the most beautiful person in the world and..." she sniffed, trying with all of her willpower not to cry again, "Let him know that he is so loved. If he ever thinks he's too different or... or not different enough. He's loved and he's beautiful and he matter. More than anything else."

xxx

"You're late."

Debra had her arms folded over her sweater and the long cross necklace that hung from her neck. She stood on her porch looking as stern as ever.

"I had an errand to run," said Elizabeth, getting out of her Impala and leaning against the door in her oversized leather jacket.

"What errand?" Debra asked, walking down to the car.

"Don't worry about. Tying up loose ends and all that stuff. Are you ready?"

Debra nodded and gestured to the small suitcase she was pulling behind her. "What errand?" she repeated.

"Don't worry about it."

Debra raised a stern eyebrow. "Elizabeth..."

Elizabeth sighed irritably. "I had to visit Shelby."

"Corcoran?"

"That's the one."

"Elizabeth..."

"I just needed a favor."

"That's the last thing I want to hear. A favor from Shelby Corcoran? The magicks that girl practises are on the precipice of the dark arts-"

"Deb, come on. It's not a big deal. She's moving to New York, she needed money. She was willing to help me with something."

"Help you with what?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Debra!" Elizabeth pleaded, looking desperate, "Please, let's just get out of Lima."

Debra looked imploringly at her. "You're right. We should get going."

"You don't have to do this, you know. You don't have to leave Lima with me."

"I have nothing to stay for."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "What about Mr. Schuester? What about Will?"

"My husband and I split up."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was irrelevant."

"Irrelevant? Deb-"

"Elizabeth, please," Debra raised her hand, "You're going through enough already."

"William will be with his father. He'll be fine without me."

"It's not fair. You shouldn't have to leave your son because of me."

"You'll always come first, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth knitted her fair eyebrows at her watcher. "Even before your son?"

"I'm a watcher," said Debra, "I made an oath that my slayer would always come first."

Elizabeth pursed her lips and looked at her watcher with her arms folded. She didn't know if she could ever put anything before the kid. Anything.

"Let's get going, then," she said, and opened the passenger's seat of her Impala for Debra. She got into the driver's seat and closed the door with a tinny bang.

"Let me buy you a new car, Elizabeth," Debra wrinkled her nose, "This tin can breaks down bi-weekly."

"No way," Elizabeth sternly pointed at her watcher, "This is my pride and joy."

Debra rolled her eyes. "Don't be one of those people who gives their vehicles female names and refers to them as 'she'?"

"Steve is a he," smirked Elizabeth.

"Steve? You're the reason Burt Hummel decided that fixing cars was a legitimate career."

Elizabeth smiled sadly and turned the key in the ignition. "He makes good money."

"Not the kind of money he would have made if he finished business school."

"He's happy," Elizabeth stressed, "He was happy... He'll never forgive me."

Debra's mouth was pulled down in a concerned frown. "Of course he will. He loves you."

Elizabeth bristled as she pulled out of the driveway. "Don't remind me."

Present

"Rachel? Can I talk to you?"

Rachel looked up from a library book she'd been reading in the choir room to see Buffy standing in front of her, looking anxious.

"Of course," Rachel smiled with mild surprise, "What's the matter, Buffy?"

Buffy threw down her backpack and slumped into a seat beside Rachel. "Are you still doing that couples' counselling?" she asked.

Rachel closed her book and shook her head. "I decided I wasn't the best choice to give relationship advice after everything that's happened between me and Finn."

"Right. Well... there was something I wanted to ask you about because... well, I still think you're the best choice."

Rachel blushed. "Well, thank you, Buffy. What did you want to ask?"

Buffy exhaled deeply. "Let's say... You're a girl."

"I'm with you so far."

"And there's this person. This really cool, complex, mysterious person who you've known for a while now."

Rachel blinked. "Yes?"

"Let's say that you came to realize that this cool person has feelings for you. Serious feelings. Romantic feelings."

"Okay," Rachel replied softly.

"And even though you've always liked this person because they're cool and sexy and everything you always wanted to be... You never really tried to think of them like that. But now that you know that the possibility of something more than friendship is out there... you think maybe you could like her back."

"Her?" Rachel implored.

"This is just a hypothetical situation, Rachel."

"Right."

"So, maybe the idea of you two together excites you, because she's really... great, you know?"

"Yeah."

"You do?"

"I mean... I can imagine."

"So... what would you do?"

Rachel smiled. "I'd follow my heart. I'd take a risk. For love."

Buffy smiled sentimentally. "Of course you would."

Rachel shrugged. "I'm a romantic, Buffy."

"What if there was a problem with the scenario."

"What kind of problem?"

"What if there was a boy in your life. A boy who would keep you and this cool person apart. A boy who... you actually care about, even though you'd rather be with this other person."

Rachel knitted her brow. "I think... It would be worse of me to stay with this boy and not truly love him than to set him free to be with someone who belongs with him."

Buffy nodded sadly. "It's just hard to hurt people."

"I know," Rachel shrugged, and put her hand over Buffy's, "But you have to be with the person you love."

Buffy looked conflicted as she stared down at the tiled floor. "What if I don't know yet? What if I'm not sure who I love? What if this cool person is really exciting but this boy is the one I'm meant to be with?"

Rachel sighed. "I think if there's someone you're meant to be with, you'll just know."

"But I don't know."

"Then you'll have to make a choice."

Buffy frowned. "Everyone keeps saying that."

"Everybody?"

"Well, you and Blaine."

"You talked to Blaine?"

"Yeah. I mean, Tina and Kurt are gone on their road trip thing-y so I thought maybe I'd take my hypothetical situation to Blaine."

"Uh huh? What did he say?"

"The same thing, basically. Only more squirmy and less words. There's one more hypothetical problem."

"What is it?"

"This cool person who likes you; what would you do if your best friend kind of... hated her?"

Rachel smiled sympathetically. "I would want my best friend to support me no matter who I choose to be with."

Buffy grinned at her friend. "I would support you."

"I would support you, too, Buff."

xxx

"Do you think she passed out or something?"

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "No, she just... needs a minute."

Debra had excused herself and headed upstairs before her story had really even started, leaving Kurt feeling anxious.

"What if it was really horrible?" he wondered aloud, "Her death?"

Tina frowned awkwardly. "I can go wait in the car... if you'd rather be alone."

"No. I'd like it if you... stayed here." Kurt put his hand on Tina's, sitting up, stick-straight, on Debra Schuester's couch.

They waited silently until Debra trudged back into the room, her unsettled eyes on Kurt.

"Are you sure you wanna hear the rest of this story?" she asked, her arms folded.

"Yes," Kurt nodded, his voice cracking with uncertainty.

"Doesn't have a happy ending."

"Didn't expect it to."

Debra pursed her lips and stared at Kurt, as if mulling something over. "Your mom was in a bad way by the end. Leaving you and your dad... It was the hardest thing she ever did. But she knew she had to do it. There was no way out. That scar on your arm..."

Kurt nodded. The one that reached from his elbow to his shoulder in a jagged line.

"A vampire did that to you."

Kurt winced. Somehow, he'd known. Maybe something in a dream had reminded him of the repressed memory. "How did it happen?"

"It was a vampire your mom had met and battled too many times. One she just couldn't find the opportunity to kill. He was looking for blood. Slayer blood. He got to you first. That was when she left, the first time."

"The first time?" Kurt repeated, barely a whisper.

"She wanted to keep you safe, but she couldn't stay away. She needed to be with you and your father. Without her family, she felt like nothing. It broke her heart to leave, but two years later, Spike came back."

"Spike?!" Tina gasped, and then blushed at the outburst.

"Spike," Kurt murmured, "William the Bloody?"

Debra's eyes widened. "You know him?"

"We helped fight him," said Tina, "I mean, with the slayer. The new slayer. She goes to our school."

Debra put her hand to her temple. "Of course she does," she said, and then mumbled under her breath, "Kid can't escape that life. Not if he lives on the Hellmouth."

"So this is his fault," Kurt sneered, "He terrorised my mother a-and drove her away from her family... This is because of him, isn't it?"

Debra sighed. "It wasn't just Spike... She was a slayer. Evil was all around."

"Did he... Did Spike kill her?"

Debra shook her head. "No. No, Spike wasn't... Don't go looking for him. He's powerful."

"He's dead," Tina said quietly.

"Dead?" Debra repeated, in shock.

"Buffy, the slayer, she killed him," said Tina, "Well, with the help of Sunshine, the... other slayer."

"Other slayer?" Debra raised a thin eyebrow and shook her head, "I've been out of the Watcher's Council's loop for too long."

"What killed her?" Kurt asked impatiently.

Debra sighed heavily and fell hard into her armchair. "She did," she said, her eyes welling up, "She killed herself."

Kurt exhaled in disbelief. "No, she... She couldn't have."

Debra stared longingly at a bottle of clear brown liquid on top of the liquor cabinet, but didn't make a move to get it.

"Her body was drained of blood," Tina said quietly, earning the curious stares of the other two, "When Blaine researched slayers, he told Buffy that Elizabeth's body was... drained of blood."

Kurt looked back at Debra, panic in his glassy eyes. "Well?"

Debra bristled. "She's right," she said quietly, and stood up to pour herself a drink.

"What happened?" Kurt asked impatiently.

"Are either of you familiar with what is known as a Bite Den?" Debra asked dryly over a glass of scotch.

Kurt looked imploringly at Tina, who had her brow knitted with worry.

"Places run by vampires, where people go to... give blood."

Kurt frowned. "Why would people voluntarily let vampires drink from them?"

"Thrill seekers," Debra glowered, "Occult worshippers. Morons."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "My mom...?"

"Was none of those," Debra said certainly, "But sometimes Bite Dens... disguise themselves."

"What do you mean?"

Debra sighed heavily and sat back down, scotch in hand. "Your mother was different when she left you and your father. She was depressed. She was like a ghost. Like a shell of herself. She wasn't even as strong as she used to be, in Lima. It's like she was gone. The only time it felt like she was alive was when she was angry. We fought so often, about going home, about our sons. I would get mad at her for being so morose and she would get mad at me for not being morose enough. Sometimes I felt that she hated me. Like I was the reason she had to leave her family.

Her drive to slay was virtually gone and yet... I would find her sneaking off at night again and again just to walk. She just couldn't sleep. She couldn't eat. A couple times during the year she would return to Lima to check on you and your father from afar, and every time she came back to Cleveland, she would feel even worse. She started turning to magic to give her... energy. Moments of false happiness. But she didn't have the power or the practise to do much.

I don't know how she caught wind of it - probably from demon connections - but she found some kind of service. Run by a Djinn."

"Gin?" Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"Djinn," Tina answered, "God-like beings. They can travel through alternate realities."

"They can transport other people, too," said Debra, "Well... their souls. Not their bodies."

"I don't understand," said Kurt, "What does this have to do with my mother?"

"Your mother... was desperate. For a way out."

Kurt's eyes widened. "To an alternate universe?"

Debra sighed. "It was a scam. It was... a trick. Like I said, the Djinn can transport your mind, but not your body. They sent her to a place where she didn't have to be chosen. Where she was unburdened by destiny. But her body remained in their captivity."

Tina looked grave. "For vampires."

Kurt's eyes looked dewy. "Is that what happened?"

Debra nodded. "She bled out. Drained. Before I could save her."

"She didn't..." Kurt stammered, "She didn't kill herself."

"Kurt-"

"No. Vampires killed her. That... that Djinn killed her. She did not kill herself."

"She let it happen."

Kurt clenched his jaw. "You said she was desperate!"

"She wasn't the only one who was desperate," Debra scowled, "And what she did was... selfish. And weak."

"No! You do not get to blame her for being weak!" Kurt stood up and yelled shrilly, "She was the strongest... She was stronger than any of us, and just because, in her most desperate moment, she did something weak, it doesn't mean that that's how she's going to be remembered."

Kurt balled his fists and strode out of Debra's house, Tina following him meekly. He stomped down the rickety porch and stood at the curb, breathing heavily.

"Kurt..." Tina said softly.

"I'm angry, okay?"

"I can see that-"

"I'm angry because she gave up," Kurt shook his head, "I'm angry because... Mrs. Schuester is right and she was weak and I'm angry because of how hypocritical that is. She left to keep us safe and to keep everyone safe and no-one should blame her just because she put herself first for once."

Tina wrung her hands together in the chilly breeze. "...I know."

"I have to be strong for her," Kurt said calmly, turning to Tina and holding back tears, "I have to be strong because of her."

Tina held out her hand and Kurt took it in his. She smiled sadly. "My middle name is Elizabeth. I never really thought about it before, but now it's obvious why. And I'm proud. She wasn't weak. She was a warrior... who did one weak thing."

Kurt blinked tears out of his eyes and pulled Tina into a hug. He was just tall enough to rest his chin on the top of her head and watch Debra Schuester step out onto the porch.

"Kurt," she called to him, something small and silver in her hand.

He let go of Tina and they both turned to Debra.

"I'm sorry," she said, her brow creased sternly, and held out the silver thing for him to take. It was a key attached to a leather bracelet.

"What's this?" asked Kurt, wiping his eyes dry.

"Elizabeth would have wanted you to have it. It's been parked in my garage all this time and I don't go out much, so..."

She tossed him the keys and in a pair of ratty slippers, led him and Tina to the garage. He widened his eyes at the car inside. He'd heard about his mother's prized car, but didn't really remember it in all its glory. It sat like a sleeping beast; a pitch black '67 Chevy Impala with rust on the edges.

Debra smiled at it, a hint of sadness in her blue eyes. "She called it Steve."

Kurt circled the car and opened the driver's seat. Steve smelled like lilacs and his leather seats were smooth and soft. Despite his dad being a mechanic, Kurt had little interest in cars, but this was something else.

"It's so... her."

"Mm. Arrogant muscle car," Debra said under her breath, but loud enough for the teenagers to hear, "Very Elizabeth."

Kurt just smirked at the comment.

"Well, Impala is a word from the Zulu language of South Africa, meaning gazelle," Tina explained shyly, "So, um, I think the name suggests strength and... grace."

Kurt put his hands on Steve's roof and smiled at Tina. "Debra... can you give us a minute?"

"Sure," Debra nodded, and walked away from the garage.

Kurt slid easily into the driver's seat. The seat adjustment suggested he was just as tall as his mother had been. Tina nervously scooted into the passenger's seat.

"Male Impalas are especially assertive, even though they look so... cute..." she added awkwardly.

"How is it that you know so much about African gazelles and yet we can't have a conversation about the season finale of Grey's Anatomy?" Kurt teased.

"S-Sorry," Tina stuttered, "Um... I watch Teen Wolf."

"Ooh, Scott or Jackson?"

"Stiles."

Kurt grinned, leaning his head back. "I have even more questions than I did before."

Tina raised an eyebrow. "You do?"

"My mom ran an errand before she left Lima. An errand with Shelby. Shelby Corcoran."

"Rachel's birth mom."

"What did she need from her?"

"It was probably nothing."

"Maybe," Kurt said, looking restlessly out of the window, "Another thing... that Djinn thing. You say that it... it sends your mind away. Your soul. But not your body."

Tina nervously widened her brown eyes. "You think... that her soul is still..."

"What if she's still in that alternate universe?" Kurt asked quietly, "What if her soul just needs a body to come back to?"

"Kurt-"

"It makes sense, though, doesn't it?"

"Maybe," Tina knitted her eyebrows, looking pained, "But I don't think-"

"What if there's a way we can bring her back?"

"Kurt... I don't think new slayers would have been called if your mom was still alive..."

"But it's not really the same. I mean, her body is dead and her soul is in an alternate universe. I mean, that's basically what dead is, right? Your body is gone and your soul is somewhere else. Right?"

"Maybe," Tina shrugged nervously.

"Tell me if I sound crazy."

"No, it's just... I'm a little... doubtful. A-And even if you're right, if her soul is trapped in an alternate reality... I don't think any of us have the kind of power to bring her back."

Kurt nodded, disappointed. "Yeah... It was a stupid idea, anyways."

Tina frowned. "Wherever she is... I bet she's happy."

Kurt forced a smile. "Yeah. I hope so," he said, gripping the steering wheel. He winced as a dull ache struck through his head.

"Are you okay?" asked Tina, as Kurt put his hand to his temple.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine, I just-"

Kurt gasped as a much more striking, searing pain bolted through his head like lightning. He leaned forward, clenching his eyes shut, until they were forced wide open. An odd weightlessness rushed through him as he realized he wasn't in the Impala anymore. He furrowed his brow in confusion to see that he was at the Bronze. Tina and Blaine had a table together and were speaking French to a monkey. They waved enthusiastically at Kurt.

What the Hell is going on?, thought Kurt, Now is really not the time to be having a dream.

Kurt turned, searching through the mass of dancing teens. He quickly spotted his mother. She looked like she did in the last dream he'd had. White dress. White hair. She was looking straight at him.

"I see you," she said telepathically, "I see right in here."

Kurt frowned. "What does that mean?" he said out loud. His voice was harsher and realer than anything else in that moment. He realized that this was the first time he could consciously interact with his visions.

"What is this?" he asked, quieter.

"This is a warning," she said without moving her lips.

Kurt shook his head in confusion. "I don't understand. Are you... Are you still alive, somewhere?"

His mother disappeared. Kurt spun around, looking for her, but across the room, he saw Buffy. She waved at him, a smile on her pink lips. Kurt started to walk towards her, but before he could cross the almost impenetrable wall of adolescents between them, Kurt saw Santana approaching from behind Buffy, a fire in her red eyes. With nimble hands, she cracked Buffy's neck in one swift movement.

Kurt gasped as Santana leered hungrily over Buffy's dead body. She was soon joined by Spike and Drusilla, whose lithe, pallid figures felt as real as ever.

"Happy birthday," Drusilla smiled fiendishly.

Kurt gasped and lifted his head from the steering wheel. He looked around nervously to find he was back in his mother's car and Tina was shaking his shoulders.

"Kurt!" she gasped, "Are you okay?! You passed out!"

Kurt stared at her for a moment. "How long was I out?"

"Just a second. What-"

"Tina," Kurt said breathlessly, "Spike and Drusilla are alive."