So, here's the next chapter. It's nice and long for you guys who have been so patient the last semester. I hope you enjoy it. I was worried about the pacing, so please let me know if you think it's moving too slowly/too fast or what. I also want to remind you that the events of New Moon and Eclipse still happen, but since Kurt won't be directly involved in most of them, I won't be going into detail about them.

Have a wonderful weekend.

To Fix You

By Koinaka

When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
—Coldplay, Fix You

Chapter Eight

It didn't take long for Kurt to drive the short distance from his aunt's house to Jacob's house. He pulled in behind an ancient looking red truck in front of the small red house.

"It's Bella's," Jacob said in explanation when he saw Kurt looking at the truck.

Kurt lifted a brow. "Does it actually run?" he asked.

"Not well," Jacob admitted. "I've done a bunch of work on it, though. Rebuilt the engine and everything."

"He and Bella rebuilt some motorcycles, too," Quil added helpfully. "Kurt probably knows as much about cars as you do."

"Really," Jacob said with an appreciative look. "Later I can show you my Rabbit. I built her from scratch. Maybe we can—"

Kurt cut him off, his voice sharper than he intended, but he couldn't think about any of this without thinking of his dad, and he definitely couldn't do that. "I don't work on cars—not anymore."

He ignored the look that passed between Quil and Jacob, grabbing his bag out of the backseat before anyone else could. They were walking up the driveway when he noticed the same slender girl that had been with Jacob at the beach before standing in the doorway.

Quil grabbed his arm before they reached the house. "Hey, I'm sorry…I know that…just—I'm sorry."

Kurt attempted to give Quil a reassuring smile, but it fell flat. "I know."

He followed Quil into the small house. It seemed to have the same layout as both Millie's house and Quil's though it looked more lived in and messy than either. Probably because it was only Jacob and his dad living there. Both Millie and Quil's mom were almost impossibly clean people. Kurt doubted there was a dust particle to be found in either house.

The front room of Jacob's house was very homey and warm. It held a large worn looking couch and a leather arm chair that seemed to be in the same state as the couch. Both the couch and the chair were angled towards a medium-sized television that was squished in the corner of the room next to a rack of VHS tapes and a few DVDs. It reminded Kurt of his living room back home. It had been the only room his dad refused to let him touch. He still cringed when he remembered the ragged couch his dad would never agree to part with. It was now sitting in storage. Kurt hadn't been able to part with it either.

Quil nudged him bringing him out of his thoughts. It was only then that he realized they were all staring at him.

"Kurt, this is Bella," Jacob repeated, an easy smile on his face. "Bells, this is Kurt, and I'm sure you remember Quil."

Bella's eyes widened comically as she took in Quil. "Whoa," she mumbled before shaking her head and turning to Kurt. "I think I've seen you around at school. You're a junior, right?"

Kurt didn't doubt that. Forks High didn't exactly have a large student body. Less than 400 people, probably, and that was if he was being generous. Of course, Dalton's student body had been small as well, but that was due to their exclusivity. McKinley, on the other hand, had a fairly large student body.

"Sophomore," Kurt corrected. "Technically, but some of my classes are junior level. The curriculum at my old school was fairly advanced."

"Kurt's really smart," Quil bragged. "If it wasn't for him, I would've failed my English test last week. And I managed to get a C on my Algebra test. He's like a miracle worker. Mom's ready to adopt him for the homework help alone."

"Well," Kurt said dryly. "Who would have thought that actually reading—and doing— the assignments would work wonders?"

Jacob guffawed, and even Bella cracked a small smile.

Quil, on the other hand, was unaffected. He just shrugged. "Where's the fun in that?" he quipped, flopping down on the couch and pulling Kurt, who had been standing awkwardly in the doorway, down next to him.

Once they were sitting both Bella and Jacob moved to sit down as well, Bella perching on the edge of the armchair as if poised to move at a moment's notice and Jacob sprawling out in the floor with his long legs stretched out in front of him.

Between the radiator next to the couch and the heat emanating from both Quil and Jacob, Kurt was feeling warm for the first time all day.

No one spoke for several minutes. Bella tried to look everywhere but at another person while Quil's and Jacob's eyes were locked together almost as if they were having a conversation entirely without words. Kurt, however, was attempting to subtly observe Jacob. He had never noticed before, during their brief interactions, but Jacob was actually really attractive with his sharp cheek bones, square jaw, full lips, and dark eyes.

The silence was broken after a minute or so by Kurt's cell phone going off, indicating a new text message. He pulled it out of his pocket and deftly deleted the message, but not before he saw that it was from Blaine. Sighing, he turned his phone off.

"You okay?" Quil asked as Kurt tucked the phone back into his pocket.

"I'm fine," Kurt answered automatically.

Quil, like always, didn't seem to buy it. He gave Kurt a dubious look. "You're gonna have to talk to them eventually, y'know?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kurt said, his lips thinning and his eyes narrowing slightly.

Quil scoffed. "Your friends. From Lima. You know, the ones who text and call you almost every day? Those friends. Eventually, you'll have to talk to them."

He raised his hands in surrender when Kurt glowered at him. "Sorry, sorry," he said hastily before grabbing Kurt's bag from where it was sitting in the floor. "Let's watch a DVD, okay?"

Kurt relaxed slightly until he felt the weight of Jacob's eyes on him. He was careful not to return the gaze, but just knowing that he was looking at him—and the way he was probably looking at him—was overwhelming.

Quil ruffled through the DVDs in Kurt's bag before grabbing one and tossing it to Jacob. "Put this in, Jake, will you?"

Jacob caught the DVD easily. He frowned as he looked at the case. "West Side Story?" he asked skeptically. Kurt didn't miss the way his eyes flicked over to Bella who had gone pale at the title of the DVD.

Quil shrugged. "Kurt loves musicals," he said as if that explained everything. "And this one is way better than some of them. Trust me."

"Says the boy who cried during Les Miserables," Kurt reminded him earning a scowl from his friend.

"I told you—I had something in my eye."

"Yes," Kurt drawled. "Tears."

Jacob chortled as he put the DVD on. Then he stood up, stretching as he did so. Kurt's eyes were drawn to the russet colored skin that was exposed when his t-shirt rode up. Jacob caught him staring and grinned, one of his eyebrows raised. Kurt fought off a blush and turned back to the television.

"I'm going to go check in with Sam. See how things are going," Jacob told Quil, leaning over so that his lips were close to Quil's ear, his voice so low Kurt could scarcely hear the words.

He straightened up then and turned to Bella who was looking rather wan and drawn with one of her arms wrapped around her middle. She was making an effort to look anywhere but at the television.

"You okay, Bells?" he asked worriedly, the skin in the middle of his forehead puckering slightly as he frowned.

"Yeah," she said, a little breathlessly as though she had been running. "I'm good. Don't worry about me. Go. Check with Sam."

Jacob hesitated but after studying Bella's face for a minute, he left.

After Jacob left, Kurt relaxed slightly. He was unnerved by the other boy's presence, but not only was he unnerved by the boy's presence, he was unnerved with how aware he seemed to be of Jacob, aware in a way he had never been before. Kurt pushed the thoughts of Jacob out of his head and, leaning against Quil's warm shoulder, allowed himself to get lost in the fight between the Jets and the Sharks.

Between the heat in the small room and the rain falling outside, however, it didn't take long for Kurt's eyes to become heavy. He hadn't slept well the night before, and he had gone through more in one morning than he had in weeks. He was fast asleep before he was even able to hear Tony and Maria serenade one another with "Tonight."

He slept for a long time. At one point he was vaguely aware of people talking over him, and then at another point, the motion of being moved, but still he slept.

When he finally did wake up, he was in an unfamiliar room and in an unfamiliar bed. Startled, he shot straight up only to nearly fell out of the bed. He was caught in the nick of time by a pair of very warm hands.

"Careful there," a husky voice told him as the warm hands righted him.

He squinted through the dark and found himself face-to-face with Jacob.

"What time is it?" he asked looking out the small window above the bed at the dark sky.

His eyes widened when Jacob said, "After midnight."

"W—what? Why didn't Quil wake me up? I thought I was supposed to go over there."

"He didn't want to wake you up," Jacob said after reaching over and turning on the overhead light. "He's with Sam learning how to run patrol anyway."

"Hmm," Kurt said. He took in the room he was now in. It didn't take long to realize this must be Jacob's room. "Is there any particular reason why I'm in your bed?"

Jacob's russet-skin flushed. "Oh! Well, my dad came home and brought Charlie—that's Bella's dad—with him. I didn't want them to wake you up, so I just moved you in here," he paused before adding, "Sorry."

Kurt's eyes suddenly narrowed. "You weren't watching me sleep, were you?"

Jacob shook his head. "I wouldn't do that!" he said, his eyes wide and his expression sincere. "I just heard you moving around, so I came to check on you. I didn't want you to wake up and freak out. You know, 'cause you didn't know where you were."

Kurt eyed him for a moment before nodding. "Thank you."

"Are you hungry? We just ordered pizza for dinner, but there's plenty left. Quil said that you were vegetarian, so we got one of them half veggie."

"That would be good, thank you," he hesitated before asking. "The bathroom?"

"Oh! Yeah, sure. It's right across the hall, can't miss it. Your, um, bag's in front of the bed. You know, if you wanted to change." Jacob backed out of the room. "I'll just…I'll be in the kitchen."

While he was wondering what to make of the situation, Kurt took his bag into the bathroom. His clothes were wrinkled beyond help, so he didn't worry with folding them just stuffed them into his bag and pulled on his pajamas. He hadn't brought all of his skin care items, but he did wipe his face off with a warm washcloth. He blinked when he noticed the color in his cheeks. He had blushed more since meeting Jacob that he had in years. He placed his bag back in the small bedroom before walking down the short hallway and into the kitchen.

"Have you heard from my aunt?" he asked Jacob, sitting down in one of the battered mismatched chairs.

Jacob's look turned somber as he sat down a plate with a slice of pizza down in front of Kurt and then sat in the seat across from him. "Yeah," he said finally. "Harry passed away this afternoon, so they'll be gone all night probably. You know, helping Sue, his wife."

Kurt wasn't sure what to say. The entire situation was just a little too close to home for him. He stared down at the pizza. He let out a shaky breath before taking first one bite and then another. Finally, after a minute or so had passed in an uncomfortable silence, Kurt looked back up. As he expected, Jacob's eyes were on him.

"There are other legends, besides those about the werewolves, yes?" he asked in an attempt to redirect the conversation.

Jacob nodded. "Yeah. Loads."

Kurt's heartbeat accelerated. He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. "Will you tell me…about the cold ones?"

"I thought Quil told you the legends," Jacob said with a frown.

Kurt quickly shook his head. "I only wanted to know about the wolves."

That seemed to interest Jacob. "Why?" he asked.

"I saw two wolves my first night in La Push…only I didn't think they were wolves because they were really big. When I asked Millie, she said I must have imagined them, but I couldn't stop thinking about them."

Jacob looked hesitant. "So, you want to know about the cold ones?"

"I—no. I don't want to know, but I think I should know. Otherwise, I'll just imagine the worst."

"We call them the cold ones, but other people—you pale-faces—call them vampires. Not much to say about them. They're a bunch of blood sucking leeches, and if it wasn't for them, none of this would even be happening right now!" Jacob took a deep breath, and Kurt noticed that his hands were beginning to tremble slightly. He closed his eyes and kept taking deep breaths until all the trembling stopped.

"And they're real?"

"Oh, yeah. Killed one just last week. Hopefully we'll get the other soon."

"Are they…." Kurt paused. "Are the myths true?"

Jacob's brow furrowed. "What myths?

"You know, can't go into the sunlight, burned by crosses and garlic, killed by a stake, basically the whole Buffy thing?"

Jacob laughed, but it wasn't a happy laugh. It was bitter and there was a hard edge that made Kurt nervous. When Jacob spoke again, his tone was completely flat. "Hollywood doesn't get much right. They can go out in the sun, as long as no one else can see 'em, and the only thing that can kill a vampire besides another vampire is a werewolf. They're the only reason why we exist—because they do."

"Oh," Kurt said and turned his attention back to his mangled pizza. He didn't know Jacob, not really, but for some reason his obvious unhappiness seemed to chaff against Kurt. He didn't like it, and added with everything else that was going on, Kurt felt like he was holding himself together by a string.

Jacob's voice was full of concern when he asked, "Are you okay?"

Mechanically, Kurt nodded, but when he opened up his mouth to speak something completely unexpected came out because even though he was definitely not okay, he hadn't had any intention of saying that, so he was quite surprised when his traitorous voice said, "Actually, no, I'm not."

Jacob's expression didn't change. "You don't have to tell me what's wrong, if you don't want to, but if you did, you know, want to tell me, I'd listen."

Kurt was an immensely private person. Partly because he didn't enjoy confiding to other people, and partly because he had never really had anyone who cared enough to really listen before. He had friends, yes, and they would listen, but they wouldn't really listen—not the way he needed them to—and even if they did listen, they wouldn't understand. How could they when they had never gone through some of the things he had? All of the bullying, all of the isolation he felt, none of his friends at McKinley would have understood. They had been bullied, but not to the same degree that he had. They had been targeted because they were in glee club. Kurt had been targeted because of who he was—something that was intrinsic, something he couldn't change. That was why he had confided in Blaine though he hadn't even known him at the time—Blaine understood. He knew what Kurt had been going through. He had gone through the same things.

But this was different. Jacob didn't know him, didn't know anything about him or the things he had gone through—the things he was still going through. He said they were soul-mates, and maybe they were, but they were strangers. So why should he confide in him—confide in him when he had avoided talking about these things to even Quil?

He sighed, and when he began to speak, the words fell out of his mouth without his permission. "My dad died a month ago, and now my life is just a mess. I had to leave my friends, and everything I knew to live with an aunt I never knew I had. And even though I miss my friends, I can't call them because I can't stand to listen to them offer me platitudes and tell me how God has some great big plan for my life or that my dad's in a better place. Mostly, I know that talking to them would make me think of my dad, and I really can't do that.

"I feel cold all the time, like I've been covered in ice, and the only time I feel half-way normal is when I'm with Quil, and even then I don't feel like myself. And now I've discovered that there's this entirely other world out there that I never even knew existed where pretty much the only thing that I've ever really been afraid of is not only real but is also parading around near where I live. So, no, Jacob, I'm not okay."

When he was finished, his breath came out in a whoosh. He was completely and utterly mortified. "I can't believe I just told you all of that," he said, covering his face with his hands. "I mean, I don't even know you, so why is it that I just told you everything that I've been holding in for weeks?"

Before he could do anything more to embarrass himself, he practically threw himself out of the chair and fled the kitchen, the bedroom door—Jacob's bedroom door—slamming shut behind him.

Kurt woke up the next morning to the sound of voices talking in the next room. He did not move right away, instead he waited and listened to the conversation.

"So you just left her there with the leech?" an incredulous—an incredulous and unfamiliar—voice said.

It was Jacob that spoke next, Jacob sounding tired and resigned. "Yeah. What else was I supposed to do? I wanted to stay, but we're not supposed to be on their land, remember?"

There was a pause. "Oh, yeah, the treaty. I forgot." Whoever it was laughed then. "Plus, you were probably in too big a hurry to get back home—to him."

"Be a little louder, why don'tcha, idiot? He's still sleeping!"

"Sure, sure, Jake," the other boy said, laughing.

"Out! Get out of my house and off of my land. Aren't you supposed to be on duty anyway?"

Kurt could hear the sound of scuffling before he heard a door open. "Jeez, Jake, chill, I'm going, I'm going. Besides, it's not like Sam'll even notice. He's got his hands full with Leah and Seth, you know, and—"

Whatever the other boy was going to say was cut off when a door shut abruptly.

Kurt waited until he heard the television cut on before finally getting out of bed and leaving the bedroom. He entered the room to find Jacob sitting on the couch absently watching cartoons while he shoveled cereal from a heaping bowl into his mouth.

"Morning," Jacob said to him after swallowing a large spoonful of cereal.

"Hello," Kurt replied cautiously. He was still mortified by the way he had acted the night before, and he hoped that Jacob wouldn't mention it. He wasn't sure what he would do if he did. Not only had he told Jacob some very personal things—things he hadn't even told Quil!—he had then yelled at him and stormed out of the room.

Thankfully, Jacob did not mention the night before at all. Instead he asked Kurt, "You hungry?"

"A little," Kurt admitted. He had hardly eaten anything the day before which Jacob more than likely already knew.

"There's some cereal on top of the fridge. I know you're a bit of a health nut, but there should be some of my dad's cereal up there, too. He's a diabetic, so he has to be careful about what he eats. There's still left over pizza, too, if you don't want cereal. I'm not that good of a cook, but I could make you some eggs, maybe, if you wanted those instead," Jacob said, frowning.

"Cereal is fine, thank you," Kurt told him before going into the kitchen.

Like Jacob said, there was a plethora of cereal on top of the refrigerator. It took him a minute to find a lone box of shredded wheat cereal that was pushed behind boxes of Fruity Pebbles, Cap'n Crunch,Apple Jacks, and two boxes of Cocoa Puffs.

He wasn't sure why he was surprised, considering the amount of cereal there was, to open up the refrigerator and find not one or two but three gallons of whole milk

"There should be some skim milk in there, too," Jacob said, coming up behind him. "That's the kind with the pink lid, right? I'm pretty sure that's the kind my dad uses."

There was, in fact, a small pint of skim milk shoved in the corner of the refrigerator behind two gallons of orange juice.

Halfway through eating his bowl of cereal, the front door opened and two men came into the house. One of the men was Billy, Jacob's father, and the other man was someone Kurt didn't recognize. Both men looked somber and as if they hadn't slept in days.

"Hey dad, Charlie," Jacob said when he saw them.

"Jacob," Billy said, after a moment's hesitation he added, "Kurt."

Billy Black unnerved Kurt more than his son did. There was something about the older man's ancient eyes that made Kurt feel wide open, as if everything about who he was was bared to him.

The other man, Charlie, apparently, didn't even seem to notice Kurt. "I should go," he said after saying hello to Jacob. "Alice Cullen is there with Bella, but I still don't like leaving her alone all day. I'm just going to check on Sue one more time before I head back to Forks. I'll be back in the morning."

Billy's lips pursed at the mention of Alice Cullen, but he didn't speak about it until Charlie was safely away from the house. Even then, his didn't say much. "I assume that Sam has been informed that the Cullens have returned."

Kurt watched as Jacob's expression turned wary. "Yeah, Dad, he knows."

Billy gave Jacob a searching look before wheeling into the kitchen where Kurt was still sitting at the table. "Millie wants you to stick around over here. Her and Rebekah will be real busy for the next couple of days helping Sue out, and she doesn't want you to be alone," he told Kurt.

Kurt's eyes flitted over to where Jacob was standing with his arms crossed over his chest before nodding. "I'll need to go back home and get a few things."

"Sure, sure," Jacob said. "We can go whenever you're ready."

Kurt opened his mouth to tell Jacob that he didn't need an escort—because he definitely did not—but something about the way he looked, a mixture of anxious, tense, and angry, stopped him. Instead, he just nodded.

He went back to Jacob's room to get dressed after finishing his cereal. When he came back out, Jacob and Billy were having a whispered conversation. The moment they saw him they both fell silent.

The drive back to Millie's was tense, and it was only when Kurt pulled into the driveway that he made the connection as to why.

He had heard the boy earlier say that he left her—and Kurt was fairly certain that the her in question was Bella—with the leech. Then the man, Charlie, said that Alice Cullen was with Bella. The same Alice Cullen that Jacob had told Sam, who was obviously in charge of something if the way he had subdued Quil the day before was any indication, had returned.

Jacob's words the night before echoed through his head. "They're the only reason we exist—because they do."

And he had called them leeches.

Leeches, bloodsuckers, cold ones, vampires—Cullens.

The Cullens—whoever they were—were vampires.

"Oh!" he breathed out, gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white. "Oh," he said again. "Alice Cullen is a vampire."

Jacob looked a little surprised, but he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, she is."

"I thought—the legends…aren't the werewolves supposed to be protectors? You said that werewolves can kill vampires, that you had killed vampires. But not this one, not Alice Cullen?"

The tense, angry look was back. Jacob's lips were pressed into a tight line. When he answered Kurt, it was through his teeth. "Not the Cullens," he agreed though it was reluctant and begrudgingly that he did so. "We have a treaty with them."

"A treaty," Kurt said. "A treaty with vampires?"

"Yeah, I know. Stupid, huh? It was my great grandfather that created it. I'm just stuck going along with it."

"But why?"

"Well, supposedly, they're different. They don't kill humans. They eat animals. Drink, whatever. Bella says they call themselves vegetarians. Still…a blood-sucker is a blood-sucker. To me, anyway."

Kurt's eyes widened. "Bella knows they're vampires?"

Jacob snorted. "Oh yeah. She knows—"

Kurt cut Jacob off with a wave of his hand. He took one deep breath and then another. How was it possible that in the duration of a single day everything he had ever known had changed? How was it possible that he had been thrust into a world filled with supernatural beings?

It was all a little too much. He needed some time to think, to process all of this, to just do something normal.

But what could you do when you realize that all of the myths are real?

"I should cook something," he said at last. "For Sue and her family."

He couldn't deal with all of this now. But cooking...that he could deal with.

Jacob was silent, so Kurt continued. He knew he was rambling, but he couldn't stop. "Unless that's not done. I'm still not sure about Quileute traditions. I've done some research on the internet since I moved here, but I don't think I've read anything about that."

Jacob stopped him by placing a very warm hand on his arm. Kurt turned to look at him and found that his face wasn't quite as tense anymore. In fact, Jacob was even smiling a little. "Hey, don't worry about that. You've seen how much we eat. Food is always welcome. I know that they will appreciate it. I hadn't even thought of that. And if you have any questions, you know, about Quileute stuff, you can ask me. Or my dad."

When they finally did go inside the house, Kurt was feeling a little better, mostly because his mind was busy thinking of what to make. He needed something he could make a large quantity of, something that normal people would eat. Quil and Jacob had liked the hummus, but he thought that was probably the exception and not the norm, so he needed to find something that wasn't too eccentric. Casseroles were probably the way to go.

Jacob followed him as he moved through the house to Kurt's bedroom after first peering into the refrigerator and cabinets to see what ingredients they actually had. Both Rebekah and Millie cooked mostly what Kurt would classify as traditional home-style cooking. Like his dad, they enjoyed stuff like meat loaf and mashed potatoes or steak and baked potatoes. And fish—lots and lots of fish. Since Kurt had moved in, they were always considerate enough to make sure they had things that he would like as well, but for the most part, they ate much heartier food than he enjoyed.

"You can come in, if you want," he told Jacob as he sat down in his desk chair and turned his laptop on. "It won't take long. I just want to look up a recipe or two."

Jacob, who had been standing in the door way looking decidedly uncomfortable, startled at the sound of Kurt's voice.

"This is your room?" he asked, his eyes flitting around at Kurt's vanity, his bed, and finally at his entertainment center that contained his television as well as his DVD and CD collection. The majority of his music was now on iTunes, but he still had a lot of CDs from before.

"You have a lot of stuff."

Kurt nodded absently as he scrolled through casserole recipe after casserole recipe. "I suppose. We had to put most of it in storage though because there not much room here."

Silence lapsed in the room.

"No allergies I should know about?" Kurt asked after a couple of minutes had passed.

"Uh...not that I know of."

"Good." That would make things easier at least. "You can turn on the television if you want. The remote is probably on the nightstand or on the floor near it, knowing Quil."

He jotted down a list of the ingredients he would need for the recipes he had found while he was waiting for the recipes to print. When he was finished, he turned back to Jacob. He was sitting on the edge of Kurt's bed looking at the digital photo frame on Kurt's nightstand as it shifted from picture to picture. "You said before that your dad was diabetic. Does he have any other dietary restrictions? Low-sodium or anything?"

"Huh?" Jacob asked, finally peeling his eyes away from the digital photo frame that was currently on a picture of Kurt and Blaine in their Dalton uniform.

"Your dad. Does he have any dietary restrictions besides his diabetes?"

"Oh. Nah. Just, yanno, that."

"Do we have to go back to your house right away?" Kurt asked as he moved to his closet to gather clothes for the next day.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to go to the funeral—if he could go, actually—but he thought that he ought to go. Millie had done a lot for him in the short time they had known one another, and so had Rebekah. He just had to keep telling himself that it wasn't the same as before.

"I guess not. Why?"

"Well," Kurt said, pulling out an outfit that he thought would be appropriate for a funeral and laying it across the bed. "It would just be easier to cook over here, so I don't have to take everything I need over there."

Before Jacob could respond, they heard Quil's voice calling down the hallway. "Hey, you guys back there?"

"In my," Kurt started to call back but before he was able to finish his sentence Quil appeared in the doorway.

"Hey Jake, Sam's waiting for you."

Jacob frowned, his gaze moving from Quil to Kurt.

Quil saw the movement and rolled his eyes. "I'm on Kurt duty for now. You can go."

Kurt scowled at the both of them. "I don't need a babysitter," he said, struggling to keep his voice even. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Sure, sure," Quil said, flopping down in the chair on Kurt's desk and pulling the laptop towards him.

Jacob didn't look pleased, but he finally sighed and left after gaining assurances from both Kurt and Quil that they would only leave the house to go to the store.

"Don't be so hard on him," Quil said as they pushed a shopping cart through Thriftway.

Kurt, who was staring intently at his shopping list, looked up at his friend, confused.

"Jacob," Quil clarified. "Don't be hard on him. I've seen in his head how he feels about you. The thought of you being in danger terrifies him."

"I'll keep that in mind, but he can't expect me to never be alone or to follow me around all the time."

It was one thing for him to stay over Jacob's house because his aunt had suggested it—and he wasn't sure that was the entire story—but it was another to have a guarded escort whenever he was at home.

Quil sighed and grabbed a box of cookies off the shelf as they passed. "I know, I know, but until," he paused and lowered his voice, "until we catch the…you know…you can't expect him not to worry. This imprinting thing is hard to describe. I know he told you about it, but I've seen it in his head. It's like…every single thought he has, everything he is revolves around you. It's not romantic or anything, not right now anyway, he just… he wants you to be happy, for you to be safe, and everything he does, everything he says, is all geared towards that."

"What? You saw into his mind? Are you telepathic now, too?"

Quil shrugged. "Sometimes. It's a wolf thing."

Kurt didn't know what to say. The idea that Jacob's entire world revolved around him was a little overwhelming. "But he doesn't even know me."

"Doesn't matter," Quil told him matter-of-factly. "Look…just give him a chance. Get to know him. Jake's been my best friend since we were in diapers. He's great. I mean, I know I said some pretty bad things before, but that was because I thought he'd ditched me to hang out with the 'hall monitors gone bad' like he used to call them."

Kurt sighed. "I am giving him a chance, Quil. I just…I don't like to be told what to do."

"I'll talk to him, okay? Get him to back off a little, so long as you promise to actually give him a chance."

"I said I would already, didn't I?" Kurt snapped before sighing once more. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't snap at you. Come on. We've got a lot of cooking to do."

"We?" Quil asked, bemused.

"I suppose not. Me, then. You, on the other hand will stay out of the kitchen."

"Sure, sure," Quil agreed easily. "I'll stay out, if you make me more hummies."

Kurt made a disgusted noise but didn't even bother correcting him again. "Aren't you tired of them yet? If you eat anymore hummus, you're going to turn into a chickpea."

At Quil's pout, Kurt scowled. "You're shameful. Fine, I'll make some to take along to Sue's, but we'll need more chickpeas. I'm not sure anyone besides you will even like them, but if they do, you'll just have to share."

Knowing not to press his luck any further, Quil didn't protest when Kurt sent him off to find the ingredients.

When they got back to the house, with enough groceries to feed a small army, Kurt was surprised to find Millie actually at the house. She looked harried and tired and definitely surprised to see him.

"I thought you were at Billy's?" she asked. "And what's all this?" She pointed to the grocery bags, all of which Quil was carrying.

Kurt paused, suddenly hesitant, before speaking. "I thought I would make something to take to Sue's house."

Millie's eyes widened and she pulled Kurt into a tight hug. When she stepped away, her eyes looked suspiciously bright. "You remind me so much of your mother, Kurt."

She turned to speak to Quil then. "When you guys are finished, take everything to Sam and Emily's. Most of the younger kids are meeting there. It's just too crowded at Sue's, and she's honestly not in any shape for a lot of loud company. I left Becky with her long enough for me to run back and grab my contact solution, but I don't want to leave them alone for too long."

"Are you sure we shouldn't bring something to her house for her to eat?"

"You're sweet," she told him, patting his cheek. "She's got plenty. Just take it to Sam and Emily's. I'm sure Emily would appreciate it. Those boys practically eat her out of house and home."

With that, Millie left.

"Sam is the Alpha," Quil said at Kurt's questioning look. "Emily's his fiancée. I met her yesterday. She's really great."

The two boys spent the rest of the morning and afternoon in the kitchen. Kurt made the hummus for Quil's sandwiches before making the four casseroles to take over to Sam and Emily's and another to take over to Jacob's while Quil sat at the kitchen table, playing around on Kurt's laptop and chattering nonstop. He told Kurt all about being a wolf.

"It's awesome," he crowed. "And you should see how fast we can run."

"Aren't you afraid of," he hesitated before saying the last word, "vampires?"

Quil scoffed. "No way. I've seen in Sam's head how easy it is to kill one. They don't stand a chance against us." His expression softened when he saw Kurt's anxiety. "Don't be scared. Nothing's going to happen, okay? We're made for this."

Kurt nodded, but he was still doubtful. He liked the idea of Quil going after vampires about as much as he liked the idea of vampires in general which was to say not at all.

It took them two separate trips to carry all of the food and Kurt's things out to the Navigator. Quil had complained and gripped because he wanted to carry them by himself all at once, but Kurt insisted on them being careful in case something happened. Finally, however, they were back in the Navigator headed towards Sam's house.

Like Jacob's house before, it didn't take long to get to Sam's.

"What's wrong?" Quil asked him when he hesitated before climbing out.

"Nothing," Kurt said quickly, his mind on the fact that both Quil's grandfather and Jacob's dad didn't seem to particularly like him even though he wasn't sure why.

"Cool. Come on. We'll just take this stuff in to Emily and go back to Jake's. We can watch a movie or something till Jake comes back."

Quil paused before they made it to the front door. When he looked at Kurt, his face was troubled. "Don't stare at Emily, okay?"

Even though he didn't know why, Kurt agreed at once. "I won't."

Once he met Emily, however, tt was obvious what Quil had meant. Along one side of Emily's face were three deep red lines that covered the length of her face and disappeared beneath her clothing and then continued along her arm and hand. "What do you have there, Quil?" she asked, stepping aside so that Quil and then Kurt could enter the house.

"Kurt wanted to make something for Sue, but they said to bring everything over here."

"Oh!" she said, surprised, before turning to Kurt. "That's great! Thanks! I know the boys'll appreciate it. You can just set them on the table."

They made quick work of bringing everything inside the house, telling Emily as they did what each individual casserole.

"I hope these are okay," Kurt said. "I wasn't sure what to make, but I wanted to bring something."

Emily gave him a bright, warm smile that set him at ease at once. She placed her not ruined hand on his arm. "I'm sure they'll be fine. Really. Don't worry about it; trust me. I've yet to find something they won't eat."

They stayed until the door open and a tall—taller than Jacob, even—man walked in.

"Hey Sam," Quil greeted him.

The man, Sam, nodded at Quil before looking at Kurt. Unlike Billy or even Quil's grandfather, though, the look wasn't unfriendly, only curious. "You must be Kurt," he said after a minute.

"I am."

"It's nice to meet you. I'm sure I'll be seeing a lot more of you," Sam said. He turned to look at Quil. "Jacob is probably at his house by now. I'll see the both of you in the morning.

Quil muttered something beneath his breath and then chortled. "Yeah, yeah. I got it. Come on, Kurt."

Jacob was, in fact, waiting for them when they got back to his house. Billy, however, was noticeably absent.

"He's over at Sue's," Jacob said when he noticed Kurt looking around.

Kurt relaxed but only infinitesimally. He was a little nervous about being around Jacob after what Quil had told him.

It turned out his nerves were for nothing. After eating the casserole Kurt had brought over, the three boys settled into the living room to watch a DVD. One DVD turned into two, and before Kurt knew it, he was going into the bedroom that used to be Jacob's older sisters to sleep, and Quil was heading back to his house.

"You'll be fine," he said before leaving Kurt in the bedroom. "He's not gonna bite you or anything, and I'll be back in the morning. You're going to the funeral, right?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I'm not worried about that." And he wasn't, really. "And yes, I'm going. Obviously," he said, nodding towards the outfit that was hanging on the front of the closet door.

The truth was, honestly, that Kurt was very aware of the fact that he was alone in the house with Jacob. He showered and did his skin regime standing in Jacob's bathroom while he listened to Jacob move around in the house. He thought about maybe going in there and talking to him, but he wasn't quite sure what to say. Especially after what Quil had told him that afternoon.

"Every single thought he has, everything he is revolves around you."

So instead he just crawled into the bed and tried hard not to think of what lay in store for him tomorrow—Harry Clearwater's funeral. He didn't know the man, had only met him briefly several days before his death, but he knew that it would still be a difficult day for him.

It was strange to think that only a month ago he had been burying his father.

Just the thought took his breath away.

He was always so careful not to think about his dad, but sometimes not thinking about his dad hurt more than thinking about him. And sometimes—like at that very moment—he missed his dad so much he ached, missed his obnoxious laughter, missed the way he always drank milk straight out of the container, missed how oblivious he always was to the difference between organic and non-organic foods, missed the way he would spray beer or soft drink out of his nose when he tried to drink and laugh at the same time, missed how he had always been there for him, even when Kurt wasn't the easiest person to be around.

It almost didn't seem real to him some days that he would never see him again.

He wasn't sure when the tears began, but it had been so long since he had cried, been so long since he had allowed the memories to wash over him, that he didn't even bother try to stop them. He just let them come and roll down his face.

Once or twice he heard the shuffling of feet outside of the bedroom door, but they never knocked on the door or anything else.

It was late when he finally fell asleep, his tears still wet on his face, but for the first time in weeks, he felt a sense of relief.