Glee 1. Chapter 1

_**I wrote this so it could simply end as a one shot, though that is not my intention. It's a dark idea and I will freely admit that this idea sprang to life in my mind after reading some of Anne Rices books. My last three attempts at writing glee fan fiction have failed horribly and I'm hoping that this one will, hopefully, grab reader's attention as the others have failed to do. I know it sounds like a plea for readers, however I'm going to be truthfully honest and say that if you're not interested then please don't read. However if you enjoy this chapter and want more then reviews are greatly appreciated and as anyone will tell you, incentive to continue writing. **_

_**I have no beta, as the one person I would trust to tell me that I have no skill as a writer is currently swamped with actual books that could possibly be published works. I couldn't possible expect her to take time out of that to correct fan fiction. I hope you enjoy this.**_

_**(I don't own Glee)**_

Dark Places

If ever there was a place that Puck dreamed of being it was in the light with Kurt. The Dark, at first was perfect. He could forget about what he was doing and enjoy the sensations alone. Change was good. He didn't need to see the body; he didn't need to have a visual reminder that Kurt was in fact not a girl. The only time he would touch Kurt was for leverage, carefully avoiding certain areas of the body that would remind him of those enormous ramifications, as he was having sex with another male.

He didn't pretend that Kurt wasn't a boy, he didn't even think about it. He had given in to simple temptation and had found a notch that worked for him. He didn't care about what Kurt had thought about it. It seemed, to him, that the darker it was the more Kurt seemed to enjoy it.

Kurt had only once tried to touch Puck with those genteel hands. They rest on Puck's chest in climax. The warm and comforting hands, delicate as any lady friend he had before, sending a perpetual shock wave through Puck's body that left him both enraged and longing. Puck had quickly brushed them away, even though the pressure was indicating for him to stop or slow down. If there was any hurt in Kurt's eyes Puck couldn't see it, just the thin outline of a human body beneath him.

The days drew on with out a simple shred of acknowledgement from Kurt and vise versa. They bantered back and forth as they always did. Though Puck would have flashes of the sensations; the sensual deep moans or the strong and full legs that would snake there way around his hips in certain moments where their position allowed it. These memories he had during their rendezvous the nights before. It was with memories he would seek Kurt out in the dark once again. He would follow him waiting for the darkest place that the boy would stumble into. Much like a vampire would stalk its prey. Puck's favorite dark times were the thunderstorms that would knock out the power to there quaint little town. He found it rather amusing that he would find the front door to Kurt's house unlocked at these times, late at night, only to hear the door lock on his way out as Kurt followed him. They never spoke during these times. They really had nothing to talk about.

Yet, Puck now longed for the smallest bit of light so that he could perhaps see the look of lust in Kurt's eyes or the look of pleasure that filled the boys face and body. He was aware of Kurt's movements. Puck could always tell when he was in to it and when he had given it because there was really no other option that Puck was leaving him. It wasn't rape though. Kurt knew this as well as Puck. Kurt wasn't the type to bend to the will of another with out some form of protest, a trait that Puck greatly admired and envied. It was all his of his choosing. There were nights that Puck would become frustrated for Kurt would stay in the light. He would lock eyes with Puck at some point, Puck like a predator shocked as he was hiding in the shadows watching his prey. He would never wave him off or even smile. He only did it to let Puck know that he was aware of his presents. Always sticking to the street lights as he walked on those nights. Puck never confronted him. If he was in the dark it was because he wanted to be there. There was even one section of the small quite town where there were no street lights at all and Puck would watch the small boy sprint as fast as he could. The thought of chasing him down had always come through Puck's head. If to chase him for nothing else then to get Kurt's heart racing a bit more. Kurt's staying in the light had become more frequent and if he was in the dark he was with friends.

Puck most certainly detested this blatant act of refusal on Kurt's part. There was the slightest hint of guilt that built in Puck as the nights passed on. That maybe Kurt felt that Puck wouldn't accept no as an answer to his lust. Puck would have. It would have been the first time that they had ever spoken on the subject.

The days at school now filled Puck with a deeper longing. One that he was certain would become all too apparent to those around him. He no longer traded insults with Kurt as they had before; no longer shut his locker on the boy as he had just opened it. Puck had changed the dynamics of their relationship, if they had one. He would find himself staring at the boy for long moments. Watching him spin the pencil in his long delicate fingers as the teacher incessantly drowned on and on about George Washington or the difference in writing styles between Anne Rice and Stephen King, none of which mattered to Puck. All that mattered was the lithe boy setting four rows away from him in the front row. It was the desk nearest the door for a quick escape into ravages that awaited him in the hallway.

In his heart a small crack had formed with a thunderous explosion. The boy for so long had been avoiding those who had tormented him, that he had devised the perfect means. To have means of escape and avoidance that allowed him his lavish cloths and to be seen with out being seen. When these creatures he ran from caught him, these Neanderthals as he so eloquently referred to them, it was because he had faltered, spending an extra few minutes on his hair, or ensuring that there wasn't a single wrinkle on his beautiful clothing, maybe even taking one to many gulps from the drinking fountain.

Now it had become apparent to Puck as to why Kurt had enjoyed the darkness as much as he had. Kurt was having sex with his greatest tormentor. The person who sought him out now and tormented him in new, unspeakable ways.

While the cracks in Puck's heart bleed for the boy a new fire burned with in Puck. The callous unforgiving monster grew louder in his desires to see the boys face. To touch the small fragile body that it had so desperately tried to avoid for so long. If Puck were stronger then perhaps he would have noticed these desires and squelched them on the spot. Yet, that wasn't Puck's nature. He was no different then the Vampires that Anne Rice had written about. Perhaps he lacked there refinement and class, but it was the same concept. To find some one, seduce them, make them love you, as you loved them and then destroy them, or take them for your own. Puck's mind raced with the latter, to have Kurt with him loving him through out all the torment he put him through. The monster begged for this from Puck, but Puck was content with the idea of simply seeing Kurt in the light. So that the boy might face his tormentor with a new found respect and love.


	2. Chapter 2

Confronting the Boy

Puck had become accustom to endearing sites of Kurt in the light. The nearly non-existent lines on his soft porcelain like face, the subdued shadows that his nose and cheek bones created, giving such depth to that child like appearance Puck so coveted and Kurt was so proud of.

Kurt moved differently in the light as well, as if he were free. His movements so defined and yet graceful, like a ghost moving through the street or the halls, his jovial, girly giggle echoing cadences' where ever he was. It was a laugh that carried on the wind like leaves playing in the cool breeze of an early fall day. This laugh, this strange song that fell from his strangely full lips, gave Puck pause when ever he heard it. It held a power and like any air born pathogen was infectious to all those who heard its eloquent tenor.

In the light he could see the physical power the boy exuded as well. As if he were capable of inflecting great pain and suffering if only given the chance, yet, as most men of Kurt's distinction, this gift was wasted and forgotten. Kurt had chosen a sharp devil like tongue, with intelligent knowledge to underscore his enemies whose only defense was to humiliate him with physical absurdities. He was more then a match for most of the cruelty he had endured. Kurt had become a verbal warrior. A phoenix rising from its own ashes, a wraith sent to act out its revenge for wrongs done to it. Thus making Puck draw closer to him, seeing him now as the ultimate prize to be taken and cherished.

As many times before Puck followed Kurt through the halls, waiting patiently for the boy to be left to his own devises. These were the times when Kurt was at his weakest, when he had no one to protect and no one to protect him. Still a formidable foe, for a wolf with out a pack, is still a wolf.

Puck himself had come up with a new plan to corner his prized consort. For unless they directly spoke, Puck wasn't sure if Kurt was aware of his presents as he was of it at night, or in the darkest places, which Puck found Kurt avoiding at all cost. Pucks brow crested in longing for him to go to the dark and not to be afraid of the monster, the demon that found its comfort with him in there.

As always Puck stalked far behind keeping his eyes locked on the elegant figure that seemed to dance its way through life, directing the flow of humanity around him with out the basic knowledge that he was doing it, and like always neglecting the admiration that followed behind him. From the beautiful girls who dearly loved him for his uniqueness, and the men who tried to find the pride and distinction that had come naturally to Kurt. It was never more then glances mind you. Only some one who was paying attention would notice these things.

Puck's blood heated with ever glance thrown Kurt's way. Even though no one knew of there meeting in the dark places, the look in his eyes dared some one to try to take his prize from him. They may not have known what the prize was and even then no one would dare.

Kurt had waited for the foot ball team to head to practice as he always did. His little pattern to keep himself safe was working. Puck could almost see the list of his tormentors running through his brain. The jack asses like himself who thought they were better because they were bigger and more popular, more… masculine.

Puck was waiting for Kurt to enter the locker room to change. He always took laps around the Gym while the cheerios practice their routines, as Sylvester yelled obscenities at them that even Puck found un-tasteful, also yelling them at Kurt who couldn't hear her because of his Ipod blaring songs in his ears, his surprisingly large feet hitting the floor in the rhythms of the song as he ran.

Puck enjoyed this time. Going to the gym to watch as Kurt rounded the corners of the gym with a grace that begged him to be taken, demanded it in fact. The un characteristic ball cap turned backwards to keep the hair out of his eyes, that normally was soaking wet with the sweat that his body so effortlessly produced. Something Puck new that Kurt despised though he had never spoken of it, almost as much as he had despised the smell of his own body. It was one of the more lingering memories that Puck had of Kurt. It was a strange and oddly intriguing smell of a man coming from such an elegant body, mixing with his own, and the added scent of lust filling the small areas that they occupied.

Though today, Puck wasn't going to watch him run, if Puck had his way the boy would be leaving his scent on him again. Puck didn't care where, or even if roles were changed, just as long as it was in some form of light so that he could see the face of the boy he so admired now.

He had never been in there when he was changing his garments of high end fashion to a K-mart special of un flattering grey shorts and a black wife beater that only did more to enthrall Puck's ideas of the boy. Wondering what he looked like naked. Even Puck had found that cold and callus. This boy like God was meant to be worshipped, touched, and teased with finger tips.

Kurt had already placed the small white earphones in his ears, not singing but humming lightly with the music that was playing. Kurt was bending down tying his shoes, with the small of his smooth creamy white back showing. Not a hint of a freckle, or beauty marks. It was flawless skin that Puck couldn't help but let his fingers trace down. The warmth of it left his finger tips tingling as if they had just been shocked. They were such amazing sensations that this boy, this man, had given him.

He couldn't hold back the dark laughter as Kurt jumped and pulled his earphones out with a sharp tug. His eyes wide with shock at first and then overcome with slight fear. Puck had to acknowledge, now as he was forced to look into them, that Kurt's eyes were a dazzling array of colors that would perhaps remind him of the Mediterranean Sea if he had ever laid his eyes upon it, or as it were the Mediterranean Sea would remind him of Kurt's eyes for the rest of his life.

His eyes were so deep and changing in the colors of innocents and rage, of Fear and Contentment. His desire to simply place his lips gently over the eye lids was just as strong as his desire to hold the boy so tightly that bones could break, or to see the expressions on his face. The monster with in was screaming for him to take the boy now. Something in Kurt's eyes told Puck that he wouldn't object to it at this moment. Like a secret fantasy coming to life in the boys' eyes, sex in the boy's locker room that reeked of nothing but testosterone and power, with the bad boy of the school, sporting a Mohawk that for all intensive purposes screamed sex.

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, or hours, Puck had lost track of time in the filthy room. His fingers still burning from where he had touched Kurt's back, his mind racing with how easily it would be to lay Kurt down on the bench or how easily it would be to let Kurt go. To keep playing this game of cat and mouse which he so enjoyed, and so wanted to keep playing.

Kurt looked around the room as if trying to assess the quickest way around Puck, and to the door. He could almost see the defeat of the attempts as he played them through in his head. Puck was the most assured that of the little he knew of Kurt, the one thing that was a given, that was unfaultable, was that Kurt was smart, a master of retreat and hiding, and planning. Puck had him cornered. Lockers on each side, that even if the boy could some how manage to scale over the top of, would just lead him in to a second small row of lockers that went to the back wall. Puck would simply just have taken a couple of steps as he waited, amused, for the boy to climb over and have him cornered again.

The idea of Kurt trying to force his way past was even more futile then climbing over the lockers. Puck was stronger, faster and could just as easily hold him steady as he tried to leave. Kurt was a fighter though and Puck thought that if he did try to run he should just let him go, but he needed to speak with him, to ask him certain things that he needed to know.

"Umm, Puck I didn't hear you come in. I was just um, changing so I could go take a little jaunt around the gym you know, stay healthy and all." The sentence was followed by an uncomfortable, charming laugh. Puck had heard it before, years before, when he was going to dump the small delicate body in to a dumpster. Trying to make it seem like a game, to which it was. However Puck was always the winner and Kurt's comments became more snide and cruel. Kurt hadn't used that laugh until today.

Puck couldn't help but allow a small smile to force itself upon his lips that were like a brush ready to paint the boys lips and body with forceful, needful kisses. To cover him with the moisture of his mouth and to watch the goose pimples rise on the flawless skin as the air cooled it instantly.

"I didn't mean scare you. I was hoping to talk to you about, well, about what we have going on and why you have been avoiding me." Puck had placed the back pack, that held his books that very seldom left the dark confines of there little bag, on the floor and placed both his legs on the sides of the bench. Kurt watched as the powerful legs relaxed and yet how the jeans still managed to cling to the skin. He watched as Puck placed his hands just inches in front of his groin and leaned forward on them. Puck was uncomfortable about the situation. It was the darkness where he was comfortable, where the monster could be relaxed and where Kurt couldn't see it.

Kurt expression had grown darker as he fought off words that were no doubt scornful and laced with venom. It was in that look that the words he wanted to hear lay dormant, the words that would greatly ease or enrage the monster more.

"I just haven't felt like it." Kurt said coldly as he returned to tying his shoe, letting the ear phones dangle from the inside of his shirt where the Ipod rested securely in the waste of his shorts. Puck had wondered if the boy was tempted to place them back in his ears to exact some kind of revenge or power over Puck, and to let him know that in fact the conversation was over with such brief and lonesome words.

"How can you not feel like it?" The words passed through Puck's lips more forcefully then he had intended which gave the boy short pause as he finished the second not in his shoes.

"Maybe I don't feel like being your play thing Puck?" The rage behind the tenor's voice made both Puck and the monster that he was controlling now with great effort wanted to growl in passion.

"We're both each other's play things Kurt. That's what was so great about it, so hot."

"Hot? Yeah at first it was. Now it's the same old thing over and over again Puck, when ever you feel like it. It also doesn't matter if I want it or not, that maybe when I have an itch that I can't call you on the phone and have you come scratch it. It's only when you have an itch that you come and look for me and god forbid it I actually try to touch you."

With such a quick rant Kurt had summed up everything he had ever wanted to say to Puck. In a single paragraph he had bared his feelings and resentments, and yet, Puck to had taken notice of the painful fact that Kurt had never mentioned the darkness. He had never once mentioned the need to see Puck. Perhaps he had wanted to touch him, but not to see him, not in the way that Puck so ultimately desired.

Gracefully and slowly Puck rose to his feet, Kurt taking a step back from him in fear and hopefully anticipation. He very carefully approached Kurt. He could feel the passion burning in his eyes, and just as well he was positive that Kurt could see it. The boy swallowed with his Adams Apple moving up and down the confines of his long beautiful neck. He saw it to be a sign of the highest caliber. It wasn't a sign of fear as he perceived it. It in fact was a sign of longing and lust. Puck couldn't smile though, as this was suddenly not so much about his power over the boy, but the power the boy had over him. The monster lay quietly inside of him. The raging yells silenced with the prospect of touching the boy. Puck's thoughts were now merely his with that hell forged creature, with its tail wagging, waiting, like a good dog to get its treat.

Kurt's back was now to the front of the cold unforgiving lockers. The rattle of them as he carelessly back into them made him utter a small sound of shock. If it was possible Puck could have heard Kurt's heart pounding in his small chest. Puck was simply inches from Kurt's face, the boys head raised up so that he could look in to his tormentors' eyes and the tip of his nose had begun to turn read in a blush. Had this always been happening in the dark places, this hint of arousal that was making the monster inside Puck grow restless again, though staying quite?

"I want you to touch me Kurt."

Now Puck could see the building anticipation in the boy, in his Kurt. His eye's shinning with hope now, perhaps even with the prospect of forever love. If only the damn boy would touch him! And so he did, like an angle breathe, so light, he felt the tender fingers grace the soft skin of his wrist. The nerves sending the feeling to his brain and it was nothing more then a tease, a seductive tickle that made the monster whine in protest. Then the touch became more fulfilling, as his whole hand ran up the length of Puck's arm. Puck let his eyes close and memorizing the sensation the first true touch of there love that was now never ending.

The other fragile hand now laid on his waist and Puck curse the thin cotton shirt that separated his skin from Kurt's. Then, the lips, trembling with fear pressed to Puck's, an unexpected surprise that was so welcoming. Kurt's scent of a woman, with the underlain fragrance of a man filled his nose, a scent that was so much more appealing then the sent of the other tormentors that filled the small cramped locker room.

There was no stopping the sensations, not even if they broke apart would Puck ever not feel the full pressure of Kurt's lips on his. Lifting his hands and arms slowly and genteelly so not to startle the boy, his raised the black wife beater just enough so that he could place his hands on the warm smooth back, tempted to throw the Ipod to the ground in frustration as it too was impeding this moment of nothing but sensations.

Kurt moaned as Puck pulled him closer, the monster now being force back into its corner where it would stay satisfied for now. Puck now satisfied that Kurt was locked into his grip, his loving, and never relenting grip.


	3. Chapter 3

**_I know the coaches name is spelled differently. I just wrote it. So please enjoy and review. It helps alot! Thanks_**

_I stand amid the roar  
Of a surf-tormented shore,  
And I hold within my hand  
Grains of the golden sand -  
How few! yet how they creep  
Through my fingers to the deep,  
While I weep - while I weep!  
O God! can I not grasp  
Them with a tighter clasp?  
O God! can I not save  
__One__ from the pitiless wave?  
Is __all__ that we see or seem  
But a dream within a dream?_

_Edger Allen Poe: 1850_

Mine is Torment

The months had passed with only the sensations of bliss and contentment to occupy Puck's thoughts. It was so strange to him at first, the feelings of warmth being so closely pressed to him. The beautiful site of Kurt under him, as they constantly encouraged their love for each other, which made Puck all the more receptive to be with him any time he asked. His favorite times were just before dawn in those warm summer nights, with the approaching morning sun giving Kurt's white skin more meaningfulness as the hues of pink and orange danced over his graceful body.

Puck had thought himself an idiot when he first saw Kurt in the light. It wasn't the sun, or the moon that had cast light upon the boy, but candles that Kurt had so delicately set up around his room. It wasn't intentional, there was no romance such as that in there relationship, it was because of a storm, and the power had once again been knocked out, and the small town was dark and quite. They had sat on the couch watching a movie, his father some where for the night gave them the opportunity to actually hold one another as they had hopped. Their relationship kept secret at Kurt's request. Puck was more then willing to stand up in front of the crowd's of his tormentors and announce that Kurt was now his and anyone who threatened him, or hurt him would answer for it most dearly. It was all so amazing what candle light can do to some one.

They had undressed each other slowly as this was most defiantly an impromptu session. Puck had become accustom to the needs of Kurt, and to know what the looks in his eyes had meant. This was a need for intimacy, for wanting, and love. Puck enjoyed those looks.

When the last troublesome bit of clothing had fallen from Kurt's body, and the when the flames casted shadows danced across Kurt's body as if it was a stage that they commanded, Puck once again fell in love with Kurt. It was nothing as he thought it would be. His ideas of the disgusting thought of a man. The organ, that on his own body he was so fond of, and on other so disfigured and unwanted. There a man stood before him. Delicate and strong, with a magnificent display of what makes a man a man. Puck didn't find it disgusting, nor did he shy away from it. The monster with in him wanted to touch it and when he did, when the sensual hiss escaped Kurt's mouth, when the girth of it surprised Puck, and when it throbbed in his hands, his inclination, no, his _need_ to put a kiss to the soft warm skin drove him to do so. And he kissed deeply.

With Kurt's hands finding the back of his head only intensifying the moment and desire. That was the first time they had actually acted on their love. It was a first of many things for Puck that at one point in time he found so revolting, so beneath him. Now, it was all he could dream of.

Then again he could dream of Kurt sleeping on his chest, the warmth of his breath cascading over his torso, and his soft gentle snoring that often sent Puck in to silent controlled laughing fits so he wouldn't wake the boy from his deep beautiful sleep. Puck dreamed of these things as well.

This was all so perfect for him, laying there with Kurt, kissing him, holding him. All the things that Kurt desired and all the things that Puck was more then willing to give. The Monster only screaming when there was a need with in Puck to eliminate its pain and at time's Kurt answered that call with enthusiasm and a certain fever that only engorged the monster more until it fell silently in to the darkness. A long forgotten memory on the way home, or through out the day, or when ever it had been silenced until its return.

It had been going great for so long. Puck had written songs, poetry and sweet little words that on occasion he would put in Kurt's car, locker, or bag, but only those that were worthy of Kurt's admiration. It was like this for a better part of a year, a great distance yet to go for the forever mark that Puck had so greedily set his eyes upon. The day was coming though, the day that Kurt would finally be his, and the monster long forgotten would rest at last and Puck and Kurt would be together with out interruption.

That's how it was supposed to be. Puck had dedicated everything to that one moment in time. He had been working on the letters to their parents, of course Kurt was more then allowed to write his own, but Puck had written his none the less. It was an unthinkable possibility that Kurt, his beloved, wouldn't want go with him, still he had written it just in case the boy need some help in making that bound of eternity.

The most difficult part, the hardest for both the Puck and the Monster, was to turn a blind eye to the cruelty of the school. Kurt always brushed such instances off with the dignity of a man who never cared what others thought of him. Other problems began to arise, that he had expected but never once thought it would be so difficult to control. It was so simple to a lot his friends time with Kurt. These people that made him happy, perhaps not as much as Puck did, but those lingering thoughts that he loved them more then he loved Puck acted like candy to the disgusting beast that now was starting to rage in a different way, one that empowered Puck to protect Kurt.

This was an amusing game to Kurt, one that Puck did not deny him the right to play. When he knew Puck was watching he would trace his fingers over Finn's shoulders which made the behemoth of a sixteen year old child tense with fear, and as his mind tried to sort out the strange and pleasant sensations that had just been created by another boy. Oh, did the monster rage at these moments. But Puck had found ways to quite the monster in him, to keep it chained to its little corner in the back of his mind. Sometimes a simple "Shhh" would have it retreat back. Puck would make his mocking glare at Kurt who would just return it with an incorrigible smile.

Then there were other times that Kurt wouldn't be aware of his actions and these were the moments that Puck had a harder time keeping the monster at bay. When he would be helping Mike with is math homework and when the beautiful and nearly delicate Asian would make a mistake Kurt would lightly place his hands over the boy's wrist to stop him from going any farther. Mike had become accustom to this action, as had everyone. It was just Kurt's way, but Puck couldn't stand the thought of him touching another man, another person, unless it was simply to tease him.

Then his tormentors… those unrefined monsters that lacked the simple intelligence that God had given a Pig. They were the damndest instigators. Puck could barely control himself at those horribly humiliating times. Puck had only been teased and tormented a couple of times since he had joined that motley crew of a choir, Kurt's hardships only increased.

After days of long torment, ruined garments that Puck had become so use to seeing that he could tell you who the designer was, being scrubbed carefully and gently by Kurt who looked at them sadly. Kurt loved his unusual clothing and Puck loved listening to the excited boy explain to him how certain designers seem to pull from their souls the cloths that he wore. Each thread meant something beautiful and empowering to him.

Or he would watch as Kurt rummaged through his closets for the right shirt to go with the right shoes, trousers, and tie. Sometimes this simple act taking hours. His eyes filled with the exemplary beautiful delight as he contemplated each single item. Puck smiled at this as he watched while he did his home work in his room, how sometimes Mercedes would be there to help him. She had been told about there little secret as Kurt had also insisted that she was trust worthy. Puck and the monster didn't mind this. Two reasons of course allowed them both to set back and enjoy the two argue over fashion. One was simply because if he asked Puck's thoughts, he would simple point out that being naked was okay, and two he understood the fiery passion that he himself knew nothing of, or cared nothing about.

Yet, with all his love for Kurt the boy's eyes could simply hold him steady as the rage warred with in him to smash the face of his tormentors to a disgustingly slimy pulp with his history book, or fist. This was normal for Kurt and as he had told Puck he was going to have to become accustom to seeing.

Puck savored Kurt's little pep talks, with a child like giddiness. It calmed the monster that Puck could not and the innocent kisses on the cheek as he finished was nearly as intoxicating as the moments of deep passion that on occasion would follow soon after.

However, it was a single day, moment, millisecond that destroyed all this for Puck. Not because of his stupid actions, but because of Kurt insensitive way of dealing with it.

All day that had been watching and smiling at each other. They had been texting each other random lovely sayings. Kurt from memory and Puck, well Puck had to steal a book from the library of love poems, and Shakespeare, of whom Kurt had been tutoring him. They were even stealing quick touches as they passed each other in the hallway. Oh this was perfect. It was a glorious day despite the cold weather outside.

Then as there eyes were locked in a loving glance, no more then usual, one of his tormentors appeared quickly and with out warning. Puck was already on the move the monster inside letting out a roar that was so reminiscent of a battle cry. He was too slow and dear Kurt too distracted by the sudden movement of Puck. The locker door swung shut with a swift and angry motion. The small delicate fingers that rested on the frame didn't even have a chance to move. The cry of agony and the even quicker sight of blood sent the monster in to frenzy. The tormentor buckled under the weight of this monster now controlling Puck's body as he his fist pounded relentlessly at the face, chest, and neck. His shouted out in rage to the point that his voice was hoarse and sore.

Powerful arms had pulled him away from the tormentor, who despite Puck's best efforts would be able to torment Kurt again. His only reprieve was that while he was still breathing, he wouldn't be able to do it for weeks or for months.

The monster was still there, Puck could almost see it's breath in the coldness of his mind, bathing in the hatred. The coach and Mr. Shue had him firmly in their grip and when Puck met Kurt's eyes they were filled with horror and shock, but that wasn't what had mattered to Puck at that moment. It wasn't that Kurt was so afraid of him that the beautiful Mediterranean pools that were eyes, eyes that threatened to over flow the banks with is tears. It wasn't that at all, it was Finn. His hands' holding tightly to Kurt's whose blood flowed freely on Finn's fingers.

There was a twitch in his muscle and Shuster and Coach Beast quickly applied more strength to hold him as he lunged forward. Finn was going to meet the same fate as Kurt's tormentor, but Puck didn't the chance. He was being held back. The only way to quite the monster, to stop him or weaken him was to shout.

"You mother fucker don't you touch him! Take your fucking god damn hands off him! I'm gonna kill you Hudson! You're dead! DEAD!"

That was all he could say before he was dragged away into an office some where, he wasn't sure which one, but Finn hadn't let go of Kurt in fact Kurt squeezed to Finn his other hand snaking behind his back. He couldn't see the smiles on there faces, or hear their laughter but they were laughing at him. Puck's beating heart stopped, and shattered, lost in unbelievable emotions that were following, emotions he couldn't dare to describe. He saw the monster for the first time, and it wasn't anything like he had expected. It wasn't the disgusting Pig, Lion, Dog hybrid he had envisioned. It wasn't a winged demon that the bible had mentioned. This monster of which had feared and yet controlled looked just like him. Puck had retreated into his mind and he faced this creature, and it looked just like him.


	4. Chapter 4

_**This is kind of a short chapter. I was having a hard time writing it. Maybe because every time I thought about it, I thought of Bella in the New moon movie and how stupid I thought it was that she was screaming all the time… and that's kind of how I was doing it. So three re-do's later, here is the product I'm happy with. Please read and review. Also I still didn't feel like looking up how to spell coach beast name, so she is still coach beast, even though I kind of like her in the show. She freaks me out and all, but I like her.**_

_**I don't own Glee! **_

Chapter 4

The Broken Boy

A week's suspension, and possible expulsion, with his mother at first so enraged that the Monster who looked like him, and even spoke like him coward back. He had held his composer with such strength and determination as Figgins simply looked at him, not even bothering to lean back in his chair as he normally did. Shuster, Beast, and Sylvester all stood in the office looking slightly afraid and sadden. Even Sylvester didn't have the right words to speak. There were no insults or an accusation about Shuster's teaching ability, or hair.

Figgins had tried to ask him questions that were so stereotypical and unimportant. Not one of them would have understood his rage, hatred or his love for Kurt at the moment.

He was being strong, till his mother burst through the door and started shouting at him. He didn't want that, with all his being he didn't want that. He stood and looked at her, with a face contorted and red that softens suddenly. He was damning himself in his mind, the Monster still quite. The tears that had been building broke freely when he simply spoke.

"Mom." Oh there was such a pleading in his voice, a broken child turning to the last place he could, the last place that any child turns, to his mother.

He lowered his head and his knees bent a little so that he was shorter then she was, and the warmth of her body, her hug, and her love surrounded him and he wept. He was nearly screaming in aguish in to her shoulder. Her hands firmly and lovingly placed on the back of his head, brushing the soft delicate hair of his Mohawk, rocking him ever so slightly that he might fall asleep.

He had never had a broken heart, never allowed it. His mother knew what this was as did everyone else in the room. Even the hideously ugly foot ball coach had been heart broken in her day. There was a sudden revelation in the room, an understanding and quietly they spoke hushed whispers that Puck couldn't hear. He looked at them over his mothers shoulders, and the four of them knew, knew that he had done it for Kurt, that he loved him. There was such sympathy in their eyes.

His mother held so tightly to him, as he held to her. He could feel a little of his fear and sadness fall in to her. Something that ever mother has the ability to do. They're extraordinary creatures, mothers. Who even the evilest of men cry for when they are being taken to the electric chair, or the mothers that can hear their child call for them on a battle field when they are half a world away. Oh mother's can do anything to comfort their child and will, even those mothers who don't love there children, and there children know it.

She ushered him out of the school, his head bowed down in shame, he spotted Kurt standing with the rest of his friends who were looking at him with anger and sympathy. His tears returned again, his mothers arm around his waste and her head on his shoulder did comfort the pain, but not take it away.

It was so well known now about Kurt and himself. It surely had spread through the school like wild fire cascading like the truly destructive force that a fire is. Of course because of Puck's actions, his brazen statement to the world. Kurt would be fine until he returned.

It was that night though that his world truly crashed down around him, that the stable ground that he had finally rested his feet upon and stood proudly, crumbled like the ashes off of a cigarette. Kurt, his love, his meaning for living and dying had left him. He wasn't sure if Kurt was crying or not, he probably couldn't hear it over his own despicable tears, tears that tasted of salt and vinegar. Everything that he had been striving for, everything that he would continue to strive for ended with an earth shattering silence on the other end of the phone.

"I'm sorry Puck. You could have killed him. You were going to kill him. I think it would just be better if we stayed away from each other. Go back to the way it was before we… well… Before everything started." Kurt's soft profoundly beautiful voice echoed painfully in Puck's ears.

"I won't do it again. I promise! I love you Kurt, please don't do this. I need you. You know I need you."

"Puck, you've never needed anyone. Maybe that's the problem, something you're going to have to fix. You knew this wouldn't last forever." Now more pain from the delicate voice. The Monster in side him clawed in to his brain yelping like a wounded dog, or was that him making the sounds. He couldn't tell.

"It was going to last forever, it has too. You love me."

"I don't think I do. You were more like my best friend; my companion. I never even called you by your name."

"Yes you did. You called my name so many times. I've heard it. You love me Kurt."

That's when the silence came… a long deep silence that scared him and the Monster. A silence that was making his body tense, the phone in his grip groaning in protest of the pressure that his hand was now exerting on to its hard plastic coating. Then there was the click, the other end of the line now was dead. Kurt was gone. Puck found his bed as he stumbled on to it. His hands slowly sliding under the pillow was he rested his head gently on the cold fabric.

He closed his eyes and saw the monster looking at him. It's tears red like blood, but they were still tears and it looked at him pleading, like a sorry dog. His mind started to race.

"I'm Noah Puckerman, and I always get what I want." Tomorrow night was it. Eternity had come and he was going to prove to Kurt that he loved him, and that Kurt loved him in return. It might not have been the fairy tail ending that Puck had been hoping for. The Romeo and Juliet of there day, it still felt too soon. Puck had planned on letting him see the world as he had so hopped to do. To become a famous Broadway actor, and to see Rome, Paris, and some place called Malian. He wanted to dance with him at Prom, take him dancing on a yacht in the Mediterranean, explore the pyramids, get one of those dogs that don't shed, buy a house, cars. Everything before eternity, but apparently eternity was greedy and Puck was going to have to take the jump before Kurt and him were truly happy.

Tomorrow night they were going to die together, and forever wouldn't be an issue anymore. The Monster perked up and let lose a gleeful roar as did Puck.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Sorry guys. This chapter is kind of epic long. I would have split it up but I hate doing that when two parts just seem to flow in to each other. There is going to be another Authors Note at the end of this chapter. As always thank you for reading and please review. PS it's 11 pages long… YIKES!**_

Chapter 5

The Damned

Puck's hands were shaking with anticipation as he laid the letter that he had written for Kurt on Kurt's kitchen counter, the envelope simply saying "Dad". It was typed and Puck had done his best to sound like Kurt in the letter. The words were from his written reports at school, e-mails, and love letters to other boys that Puck had found in his room months back. They were all dated well before Puck found his love for Kurt, and while the monster growled angrily in protest Puck read them and found them sweet and honest. Most were to Finn whom Puck was certain didn't have any interest in Kurt, which anger him all the more. How could some one not love Kurt? Kurt was the epitome of love. That's why Puck had to do this, to protect him because no one was going to love Kurt as much as Puck. Even if Kurt didn't think it was possible.

He had gone down in to Kurt's room and laid out the perfect outfit. He wasn't sure if Kurt was going to need cloths in eternity, but he was going to make sure that if he did it was the best outfit, his favorite, and most expensive. He had never worn it because there was nothing important enough to ware it for. Puck was elated and proud that he was going to be the one that gave Kurt a reason to. He was certain he would look like a prince of the greatest family. The European blood that pumped in his veins would some how find a link to its nobility some where and he would stand with Puck, holding him as they slipped off in to the peace that awaited both of them.

Puck wanted Kurt's initiation in to the ever after to be more intimate. Kurt was naturally going to go first and Puck would follow him shortly after. Puck had to look on the internet to see what most lovers did at times like these, and what was the most intimate and loving way of starting eternity together. He actually found a letter that explained it all. A young man, older then he was, but just as in love, wrote that he would take the pill just before he strangled his girlfriend. Minutes after she had left him, he would join her. He knew she wouldn't understand until they got to where they were going. The word strangling didn't seem to fit what this was for him and Kurt. No of course not. That sick, deranged, fool had murder his girlfriend and then killed himself, and Puck wouldn't use the word strangled. He would call it something more appropriate. He might have to make up the word, in which he knew wasn't possible. It was just the act of him lovingly wrapping his hands around that delicate neck and kissing the full lips to reassure Kurt that he was there with him. He knew that no matter how much Kurt loved him, his body, his brain would fight his soul. There would be a struggle naturally, but that was to be expected.

He had already placed his letter on his desk for his mother to read when she got home from work. In it he had explained to her not to feel sorry and there was nothing that she could have done. This was his destiny and she should be happy, ecstatic that he had found his one true love so early in life. He did feel a slight bit of guilt for leaving his mother like this. They had talked for hours about what had happened at school and despite her strong beliefs she accepted Puck's love for Kurt with only a little hesitation.

Puck couldn't blame her. After all no one wishes their child to end up like this. To be hated and ridiculed for what they are, what they were meant to be, no matter what the bible or religion says. It's true that Puck had thought about God's reaction to this, but he remembered that some one had once told him, when he was young, that God was all powerful, all knowing, and above all else loving and forgiving. So how could he not know that some would be different, that some would be hated? He knew how many hairs were on Puck's head, he knew how many blades of grass covered the planet, how many rocks, and how many sub atomic particles. He knew this, and they say he didn't know that his children, when he created them, would be abominations? No, Puck didn't think that possible. No one should doubt the love of God, just as no one should doubt his love for Kurt.

Now everything was in place, everything was perfect. He would convince Kurt to be with him again, explain to him what he planned to do. Kurt would appreciate it, he was the romantic type and this was indeed very romantic.

Kurt would be home very soon and all the better Kurt's father, perhaps one of the biggest obstacles, was out for the night. This made Puck smile thoughtfully. Fate was on his side, on their side.

The house was dark so he wouldn't alarm Kurt. After all Puck and the Monster so did enjoy the darkness and Puck thought it fitting that Kurt would see him in the dark. Perhaps it was the monster he would see first, and then when he turned on the lights, with its unforgiving glow and warmth and he would see him, Puck, Noah, smiling. With him wearing the shirt that Kurt had bought him, the jacket, and the trousers. Puck had also never warn these garments that he found tasteful, yet not him. No, he was a t-shirt and jeans kind of guy, but for Kurt he would ware anything, do anything.

At first he paced, the Monster pacing with him. The butterflies in his stomach would actually make him giggle or laugh powerfully. His muscles would tense. He would jump up and down in the living room to burn off some of the extra energy. He would crack his neck, knuckles, rub his knees. He laughed at himself. It was like he was getting ready for a foot ball game, or just before he would perform in front of the club. This was going to be the happiest moment of his life. What made it even more perfect, which made him actually believe and feel that a higher power was with him and encouraging him was the sudden crack of lighting and thunder. Just like the first night that had been together. It seemed fitting that it should come. The Monster seemed to manifest its self and Puck could see it now. It was standing before him, and then with another crack of lighting it was gone. That's when the head lights appeared in the window. Now the butterflies danced, jumped, even galloped. His hands began to sweat, his knees feeling like the preverbal jello.

He sprinted to the window clearing the couch to see, shaking slightly and smiling. Oh just a simple glimpse of Kurt was all he needed to ensure that he was doing the right thing.

Kurt pulled himself gracefully out of the car with a little hat on his head protecting him from the cold air that the on coming storm was bringing. The light from the porch was casting the glow on his face like an angle, shinning and flawless. As always he was dressed perfectly and at the same time strangely. Puck's only thought was if there was anyone who was perfect, it was his Kurt.

Then Kurt laughed and looked back inside the car. The other person emerged from the passenger side. The tall lumbering figure, Kurt's "Knight in shinning armor" as the love letter had quoted. Finn!

This was absolutely unacceptable. How could he have been so stupid? They were holding hands just the other day weren't they? They were cuddled up next to each other as Puck was dragged away to be expelled. The Monster cried out again, the same cry before the tormentor almost met his fate. Now Finn was in the way.

Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could wait; Finn was too good to try something so soon, too noble. No he would leave and Puck would get to Kurt. He just had to wait.

They started to walk for the door, slowly, lost in a conversation. They were like two brand new lovers leaving from a good first date, taking as long as they could to get to the door, and Puck sprang to the kitchen to grab the letter, there was no time to get the cloths from the bed. This couldn't be happening, something had gone terribly wrong. It had to be tonight, there was no waiting for it. Even if Finn didn't take his leave of Kurt, even if they… Kurt would see the cloths. He would know some one was in the house, they would call the cops.

Kurt was eccentric, but he was also dramatic, even if he knew it was Puck he would call the police. It would done and over with. A restraining order that Puck couldn't follow, or they would move, the Hummel's would move! Puck would lose him in the sea of humanity that waited just out side there little town swallowing up everyone who ever left. They never returned, not even for the holidays, or for… loved ones.

Tears were stinging his eyes as he ran up the stairs to the second story of the large house. Creeping in to the bed room that at one time had been Kurt's when he was younger, now filled with odd's and ends of their life. Knick-knacks they had no room for, old toys that his father held on to for some sentimental reason, his mother's cloths. Puck had thought of it once as the room of forgetting. Simply disregarded memories of there past found their place in this room. It was dark, always dark, and smelling of dust and mildew. Puck hated hiding in this room. There was a genuine, terrible fear that it would devour him, he would be lost amongst the boxes and bags. He'd be forever roaming trying to find his way out, trying to get to Kurt. As a precaution he left the door cracked just a little. His hand placed just behind the other side of the door so that it couldn't slam shut and lock him in.

He heard the front door shut quietly as the two made there way in to the house. The light from the ground floor trickled up to the forgetting room searing pain in to Puck's already tear soaked eyes. He feared that the light would be like watch dog and warn them of his presents, the estranged lover whom no one understood, hiding waiting to do "terrible things" that only the darkness understood.

He took a deep calming breath. The sent of the house out side the room drifted in to his nose and it relaxed him almost instantly. He had to think right now, he had to focus. It was already getting late, Finn would have to leave, and his mother would worry. His mind drifted to the lovely woman who was Finn's mother. Had he known that Finn would be here he probably would have written a letter to her as well explain why he had knocked out, or killed her son. Kurt was that important.

Puck listened carefully to the boys talking down stairs; bits of thunder obscuring the conversation, yet Puck could piece it together. They were speaking of him, in such a way that seemed mournful and loving. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He could hear the love in Kurt's voice. It sent a seductive vibration through the house. Puck could feel it start at his feet through the high dollar uncomfortable shoes and move up his legs, through his groin and stopping at his heart where it burned its memory into the pumping rhythm. Kurt's voice was now in his blood, giving him more power, more love to accomplish his wanted mission. Finn needed to leave.

"How long had this been going on? You and Puck, cause nothing seemed to change at school very much." Finn asked innocently.

"It's been almost a year, well the intimate part of our relationship for a year, the dating part… about six month's maybe." Kurt responded quietly.

"Oh. So do you think he was just having a bad day or something? Cause I know when I have a bad day I feel like punching things."

"Or kicking over chairs."

"It makes me feel better."

"And you do it so elegantly as well."

The two chuckled. Puck took another deep breath. It was a flirty, friendly chuckle, one that Brittany had perfected. It was innocent but there was underlining meaning to it. It was uncomfortable but inviting. Puck grabbed on to the handle of the door, hoping that it would keep him locked in to place, something to feel besides blinding rage. Damned, all three of them were damned.

"So do you think he actually loves you? I mean this is Puck we are talking about. I know he is capable of it, but I don't think he knows what it is." Finn asked again so innocently. It was appropriable to the conversation. Finn was treading in to territory he was unfamiliar with and frightened of. How could he think he was worthy of Kurt. He was a coward, taking advantage of the petite boy while his one true love fought for his honor.

"I do, but some times when he would look at me… In certain moments I…"

"You what?"

"It felt like it wasn't him. I know he is the self proclaimed badass and all, but what he did to that guy, that is a prime example of what I'm talking about. It was like there was some one else inside of him."

The Monster became uncontrollable with excitement as did Puck. Kurt truly knew him and loved him. No one else had noticed that, not ever. He recognized the Monster and it was a glorious moment for them both. If it were possible they would have high fived, hugged, and probably kissed.

There was a long silence now and then the most pivotal question of all, the one that Puck wanted to hear even if he already new the answer. Finn was becoming useful after all, and with his quite child like innocents Kurt would answer anything he wanted. Puck lowered his head waiting for the answer.

"Yeah, I do love him." Kurt answered.

Those were the most beautifully elegant words that Puck had ever heard his boy speak. There was a deep insistent desire now to be with him. To be with him just one last time in the flesh of the bodies, to feel him quiver under him, to taste the most delicate parts of his skin, to lash out in ecstasy. Yes, after Finn left, after he had explained the plan to Kurt that's what they would do. Maybe only his body would struggle, the natural human reaction to not having air, but Kurt wouldn't fight it. He loved Puck, and Kurt wanted this just as much as he did. He was sure of it.

"Kurt look," Finn started again, there was a tone in his voice that made Puck's celebration halt just as quickly as it had begun, "I know I've said things to you that… well that didn't make much sense to either of us, but I… I think that I …"

Puck's blood was boiling, he knew what was coming, and Finn was going to try to take Kurt! How was this possible! He always did this! First he took Quinn, Rachel, Santana, now his Kurt. His one true love Finn was going to try to take from him! The Monster let out a blood curdling cry, adding to the adrenaline pumping through Puck's veins. He wanted the smell of Finn's blood, he would to rip the beating heart from his chest and feast upon it with a wild hunger. He would pluck the eyes from his head and mail them to his mother! Oh and his tongue which he would tear out and throw it in a blender. No more lies would leave that mouth, nor more adorable innocents would beat in his chest, and his eyes would never again see Kurt.

Finn however, never got to finish his sentence. Fate had intervened at the most opportune moment. A crack of thunder and the protective light that was holding Puck at bay disappeared. Now the three of them all set in darkness, the place where Puck thrived, where the monster did its worst.

"Damn it! Not again." Kurt swore and Puck started his slow exit out of the door. He was moving slowly just like cat would prey on a bird, or a mouse. His fist clinched tightly, his eyes so much more acute in the dark it seemed. He could see there shadows dancing around below him. The light from a candle only amplified the shadows.

"Do you have any flash lights?" Finn asked.

"Yeah my dad took his big flash light up stairs in to the spare room. He as looking for a picture I think. Should be setting right by the door."

If ever there was a smile of evil that was pure, if ever hatred had found its place in the world, if vengeance was ever going to be righted it was in this moment, and it was all for Puck.

He slunk back in to the room. He found the flash light, the one he could hear Finn stumbling up the stairs to get. His awkwardly long legs, his poor eye sight, his less then human inelegance all gave Puck the advantage. He wrapped his cold callus hands around the cold black steel of the police style flash light, with its heavy weight feeling so perfect in Puck's hands. He gripped it tightly and stood just in front of the door, far enough away so that when it swung open Finn would see Kurt's angel of love and death.

Moments like these seemed almost as special to Puck as his moments with Kurt… almost… Where everything went his way, and God, or Gods, or higher powers smiled down upon him. Love was their power of course and Puck's love was absolute, and unwavering. Finn, the idiot, thought he could take it all from him. There was no way, and Puck was going to prove it. Murder it seemed flowed just as easily in Puck's body as love. "Such a strange combination," Puck thought to himself as he heard Finn approaching the door. He could hear the large hands of the boy tracing his fingers along the wall trying to find the door to the forgetting room where he would be swallowed up by the memories that the Hummel's no longer wanted, so he didn't pass it. Like a blind man with a cane he moved slowly, unknown of the dangers that awaited him. The years of frustration at his golden boy image, the hatred of stealing his girls, of trying to steal his man, the hatred of him being so damn perfect and everyone who loved him that snubbed Puck to the side. No idea that it would all be force out with the blow of a flash light, a crude blunt instrument like Finn's innocents that everyone loved. Finn was more dangerous to every one any ways. He stumbled through life, like a drunken giant child, that crooked smile and genuine concern for everyone. He did more damage to people then Puck's flash light ever could. He deserved this, and Puck deserved Kurt.

The knob on the door of the forgetting room trembled as Finn's clumsy fingers tried to find their mark. Puck could see the copper turning in the light as Finn went to open the door. Not as bold as Puck was in the darkness. He was slow and cautious just like every other human. No matter what they believed they moved slowly in the dark, even if they could see.

He listened to the latch give way, the room of forgetting ready to take its next memory to be lost. Puck's body straightened giving him almost another inch in height. Still nothing compared to the incomprehensible sixteen year old leviathan that was about to be coming through the door, yet an inch is an inch.

Then the door swung open and Finn looked right at Puck. It was the preverbal deer in the head lights look. The eyes glossed over in the small amount of light that poured through the window behind Puck. Perhaps Finn had thought of him as a stack of boxes that looked human, or perhaps he didn't see him at all because of the flashes of the lighting. Puck didn't know, nor did he care to ponder the idea.

"What the hel…"

Finn, once again, didn't get to finish his sentence. Puck swung the flash light like a small club. His adrenaline making Puck so much stronger and faster then Finn that the poor child didn't have a chance to think before the cold black steal connected with the side of his head.

To a normal person, whom Puck thought he was, this would have been a disgusting realization to what they had just done. Yet it was a satisfying crack, the vibration from the impact sending sweet, succulent sensations through his arm in to the rest of his body. The Monster seemed to jump up and down with the delight of a child in Puck's head, as he watched the giant fall, like David had done to Goliath.

The massive limp body plummeted into the wall knocking over boxes. The noise was Earth shacking and Puck wanted to scream in frustration. He lifted his flash light again. One more blow. The boys head had no where to bend to now. He was lying on his side and the unforgiving floor would let Puck smash his skull like a watermelon. The Monster continued to dance in his mind. The raised flash light was in one hand above his head. His muscles had tensed for the final blow. It was the end of the golden age, the end to the Knight in shinning armor who had fallen to the mighty beast!

"Finn are you alright!" Kurt was coming up the stairs in a hurry. Puck clicked on the flash light and answered with a hurried yes as he shinned it out the door of the forgetting room preying that his voice would be muffled by the walls and that Kurt wouldn't hear his voice accurately.

"I probably should have warned you about all the junk in there." The foot steps stopped and Puck hastily rose to his feet and away from Finn's body which he had already forgotten about.

His dear sweet Kurt was just on the other side of the wall. The forgetting room now didn't have the power to hold him. His last obstacle in his quest for immortal love had been killed, or at the very least, put out of commission. Now it was just him and Kurt, the way that it had been intended from the very beginning. He knew he was going to frighten Kurt. There was no stopping that. Hell, if he was expecting Kurt and Finn had walked out he probably would have jumped and screamed a little too.

"Puck! What are you doing here? How'd you get in!" Kurt's voice was louder then normal now. Puck smiled at him though Kurt probably couldn't see it.

"I came through the back door, like always." Puck couldn't help let the happiness pass his lips as he spoke. Kurt made him so happy, no one could ever make him this happy, could never make his heart, soul, and body feel the way that Kurt made him feel. It was impossible. Just the sight of the delicate, passionate boy could make him dance and sing. When he was with Kurt he feared nothing, and thought of nothing else. It was with out him that he became lost.

"Puck, where's Finn?" Kurt asked slowly. His tone of voice wasn't the welcoming serenade that Puck had been hoping for, but then again the night hadn't gone according to plan.

"He's… okay. I just hit him with the flash light that's all. Kurt I need to talk to you."

"Oh God Puck, did you kill him?"

"Maybe, not that it matters, he was in the way."

Kurt's large graceful feet took a step back towards the stairs. He looked at the flash light in Puck's hands. Puck looked down at it, which was the first time he had paid any mind to it at all. It was just an instrument, his weapon to put an end to his best friend. A boy he had known since fourth grade. Kurt should have been smiling because that's how much he meant to Puck. Granted never had this thought crossed Puck's mind, nor did the monster acknowledge that its best friend had been slain. Kurt wasn't acting like he was happy.

"You killed… you killed him?" Puck raised his thick dark brows in an almost mocking shock at Kurt's blatant statement. His sweet tenor voice cracking as tears began to lightly cascade down the soft white skin that was glowing in the light of the flash light. The pristine angelic boy that Puck would die for, of course he had killed Finn.

"He was going to stop us from being together Kurt. He was going to get between us. I couldn't let that happen. I love you to much for that. He would have tried to stop us."

"He would have tried to stop us from what?" Oh this was the moment when the tears would stop, and he would jump lovingly in to Puck's arms. Kiss him with his sweet lips and caress him with those fragile hands that would warm as his body reacted to the news. This was it. Finn would be the last thing on his mind. Puck would consume his thoughts just the way it was supposed to be. Puck looked at Kurt smiling lovingly and endearingly.

"He would have stopped us from going in to eternity. He would have tried to stop it because he couldn't understand, no one can. We're going in to eternity tonight Kurt, you and I."

There was a moment's hesitation as Kurt processed what Puck had just said. His mind racing with what it could mean. He had no idea how delicate a thread his life now rested. Only beginning to comprehend the terrible monster that stood before him, the horrible thing that loved him and then it struck. So much fear, like nothing Puck had seen in his beloved. In fact Puck had never seen fear like this in anyone. He took a quick step forward. He had to comfort the boy; he had to explain that it wasn't a horrible thing. It was destiny, it was fate.

With speed that even Puck never knew he could possess Kurt disappeared down the steps. Kurt's heavy feet skipping steps as he sprinted down three at a time. His balance so perfect that he wouldn't trip, he wouldn't falter. It struck fear in to the heart of Puck. What if he ran to the front door, what if Puck couldn't grab him before he called for help? They would take him away from Kurt. He would never see Kurt again of that he was certain and which he couldn't have.

Puck bound down the stairs after him calling his name like a pleading child. Unlike Kurt he stumbled, tripping down the last few stairs and hit the soft plush carpet with such force that it almost knocked the wind out of him. Kurt was there, standing at the kitchen with his phone in his hand looking at Puck saturated in fear.

"Please I need help!" Kurt screamed in to the phone. Puck was on his feet so quickly, standing before Kurt in the blink of an eye. He slapped the phone out of his hands. The hard plastic device flew through the air, twisting and tumbling until it hit the opposite wall shattering.

There wasn't hesitation as Puck slammed Kurt in to the wall. The boy let out a soft grunt as the air was shoved from his body. The plaster behind him cracked and he instinctively had placed a hand on Puck's chest trying to keep him at as much of an arms distance as possible.

How could he call for help! It was unthinkable and yet he had done it with out thought.

"THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE OUR TIME!" Puck screamed into Kurt's face. The boy, the child like God, cowering as if his body might actually slip in to the crack of the wall, that the scream was causing him pain. Puck's hands were firmly planted on his shoulders. So firmly in fact that Puck was able to count the beats of Kurt's heart, feel his shuttering scared breaths, feel the soft delicate skin bruise.

"This is our moment." Puck said as tears filled his eyes. He was so terribly hurt, so much it pained him to know that Kurt hadn't listened and had acted stupidly. Puck knew from experience that cell phone traces took time, it would be 20 minutes before they could locate where the cell phone call had come from, 15 minutes to respond to the call. It was to fast. They had to skip everything, but Puck knew he had time for the explanation to make Kurt understand him. He brought his hands away from the graceful shoulders and cupped them just under Kurt's jaw.

"You ruined it Kurt. It was going to be perfect, even Finn wasn't going to stop it from being perfect. I wrote the letter to your Dad just incase you couldn't find the words; I mean you can still write it, I would like that. I laid out your favorite suit, the one you've never worn, because I wanted you to look good. We would be in each others arms, holding each other so that when we died and forever came we wouldn't get lost. I love you so much; I wanted this to be perfect." This was not a pretty sight. Puck's face was soaking wet with tears of betrayal and the monster inside him wallowing in his mind, screaming in agony because it too had wanted this to be perfect.

Kurt slowly brought his hands up to Puck's face and more loving then any lover had touched another and ran the shaking fingers down the side of Puck's face.

"Puck, you need to let me go okay. We need to help Finn and we can lie to the cops, tell them it was a joke, tell them that I had thought you were some one else." Kurt was sobbing. Puck's heart was breaking more by the minute, a small section at a time. Kurt was more concerned about Finn's well being. It seemed like he didn't care about Puck at all, what Puck wanted or desired.

"Then, when everything is taken care of, and we know that Finn is okay we can…" Kurt leaned forward and with trembling lips put them to Pucks. Puck knew this was a lie. The meaning of his life was lying to him, trying to convince him that he would go through with it, Kurt was trying to distract him. Kurt had to understand. Puck pulled away from the kiss, though close enough he could still feel the heat from the boy's mouth on his. He still had the velvet face in his large hands and so not to startle the boy slowly moved them down, carefully until they were near his neck.

"Kurt… You're lying."

Both the massive hands circled around the small, feminine neck and squeezed. Kurt's eyes widened in fear and he slapped at Puck's arms trying to get them off of him. It was so futile, so pointless. Nothing he could have done would have pulled Puck away from the moment. It was here. Eternity was upon them. He could feel it closing around them like a warm blanket that was fighting off the cold, unforgiving thing called life.

Kurt's face had gone red and his slaps and punches were coming slower and slower, weaker and weaker. Like a flopping fish out of its bowl of water.

"It's almost over baby, just a few more seconds, just a few more, it will be okay. You'll see. I won't ever hurt you, and pretty soon no one else can. No more tormentors or rude remarks. It'll just us, forever."

Kurt's beautiful eyes widened even more and Puck was ripped away, pulled, and eternity disappeared around him. He fell to the floor with another body on top of him, massive and powerful. It wasn't possible, he was sure Finn was dead, he was sure he had killed him. The Monster screamed in terror and Puck fought to get the thing off him, this ghost, or demon, what ever it was. It couldn't have been Finn. It couldn't have.

They struggled for a while, grunting and Puck, always aware of Kurt, saw him run down stairs. Maybe he had realized finally, maybe he had seen it, seen eternity and was welcoming it. First, he had to dispatch of this other type of thing that was holding him down, hitting him, before he could go to Kurt. To resume what they had started. He brought his fist up, the Monster pushing everything it had in to a cry of anger and his fist connected with the chin. The head of this thing fell backwards awkwardly, and it rolled off of him, sprawling out on the floor. Puck got to his feet and screamed at the demon. How dare it possess Finn's body, how dare it defile it, and how dare it stop him and Kurt's assent in to forever.

He began kicking at it, stomping it, with all the might his body would allow. He could feel the soft muscles give and the body being tenderized like his mother use to do to steaks. This thing tried its best to protect its body, folding up in to a little ball, covering Finn's head, but eventually after the brutal and relentless attack it began to faultier. The Monster inside screamed with jubilation and in victory, even Puck threw his hands up in the air. The body of Finn was broken and bleeding, and the demon was gone. Perhaps these were trails to see if Puck was worthy of Kurt. Perhaps the powers that be were testing him, trying to figure out if he could protect Kurt in the after life as he was planning on doing and sent a demon to stop him, to see if he could do it, and he had, he had kicked its ass.

He turned and started for the basement slowly. His ankle felt like it had been sprained, his hands felt swollen and clumsy, his face felt funny like he had a black eye maybe. He only hopped that eternity would allow him to look like he did before, they way Kurt had loved him, the way he had loved himself.

His ankle protested as he slowly made his way down the stairs. His mind was hopeful that Kurt was dressing himself in the suit. If he was, they were going to have to hurry. The police would be on there way shortly. They needed to go and quickly. Puck's idea of the sleeping pill was now gone. They could save him from that if they got to him in time. No, Kurt's death would be as elegant as he was, but Puck's now had to lose its charm, its romantic idea of falling asleep with the fallen lover. No, his death would have to swift and quick, he was just happy he would go out with a bang.

He saw his Kurt, he was holding up the jacket letting his fingers trace down it. Puck had stopped at the foot of the stairs and Kurt looked at him over his shoulder. He was glad that Kurt was here, in his room with Puck blocking the way. It would have been very painful to chase him down. Kurt's eyes locked with Puck's and his lips twitched in a smile. His boy was so beautiful.

"You still have time to put it on," Puck said as he slowly crossed from the stairs, "We were going to be the two best dressed in the ever after, that was the plan anyway." Puck said as he looked down at the tattered and torn jacket. Kurt crumbled up the jacket in his hands and threw it back on the bed. His neck was bruised now and it probably burnt like fire.  
"It doesn't matter does it? You're going to do this if I'm dressed or not. If I want it or not?"

"You do want it. You said you loved me. I heard you say it to Finn. You said you loved me so you want this. It's forever babe. I'm forever yours faithfully." Kurt simply glared at him, and Puck's silly smirk lifted. "Guess you're not in the mood for musical quotes huh?"

Kurt rubbed his neck and looked at Puck. The tears in his eyes were holding steady just on the brink of his eye lashes. The rain outside could be heard in the basement.  
"Is there another way? I don't want to die like this." Kurt asked. One tear slipped down as he made his way over to the vanity and placed his hands on it. The creams, lotions, and other products Puck couldn't identify scattered on the floor.

"We really don't have time for another way baby. I'll make it as quick as can. I promise."

"How… how are you going to follow me?"

"Your Dad's gun I guess. It will have to be quick because I don't want you to go with out me. I want you to fight to stay here so I have to be fast, and pills would take to long. If we could have talked about it tonight like I wanted we could have chosen. Now we don't have time."

Kurt gave a little nod of his head and Puck slowly inched towards him. Kurt never broke eye contact and when they were inches from each other, and Puck brought his hands to Kurt's neck once again, one finale time, but he kissed the sore red skin gently and looked back at Kurt as he brought his hands up to his neck, and he pulled Kurt in to a kiss as he squeezed. Kurt didn't resist this time. Just like it was supposed to be. Puck pinned him to the wall as they kissed, so that when his body tried to stay alive he would be able to hold him there. But he wasn't focusing much on that. He was thinking about how this was the last kiss as humans, their last kiss of the flesh.

There was such finality to this kiss. It was the last one, that was for sure and he savored the moment. It was every single second he absorbed into his memory. Then something odd happened. He felt Kurt jerk, awkwardly in his arms, and Kurt had grunted. Then an even stranger sensation as Puck pulled away from Kurt's kiss. Kurt's eyes were showing sympathy, love, and perhaps sorrow. What was happening? Had they both passed into eternity, cause that's kind of what it felt like was happening. Then he felt something trickling down his body and he put his hand to his stomach just to the left of his belly button, and pulled it away. It was covered in blood, thick and warm. It was almost comforting on his hand. Then he saw the scissors, the ones that Kurt had used to trim his Mohawk so that it looked more fashionable, and even. With Kurt ever thing had to be even.

The blood was flowing quickly now, and he stumbled away from Kurt instead of going forward like he had planed. The Monster was growing quite as it fought to keep him moving, but even that wasn't working. He collapsed to his knees, Kurt collapsing with him as if they were one, a single body that was separated. The scissors fell from his hands, and those delicate fingers covered in the thick red substance that looked awkward and wrong.

"I'm sorry." Kurt whispered with his face contorting in to pain and sorrow.

"Are you going to come with me?" Puck asked. Oh so innocent was this question. Like a small child asking his best friend if he was ever going to come back.

"No." Kurt said as the tears once again flowing freely from his Mediterranean eyes.

"That's why you needed to go first. I'm going to be lost with out you. I need you with me. Please! I love you Kurt!" Puck's head was spinning and he fell back on to the floor. His bloody hand, ruining the bright white carpet, as it used its last bit of strength to keep him from tumbling over, but it was quivering and about to give out.

"I love you too." Kurt said as he fell back farther on his knees and cried. Then absolute and total darkness surrounded him. The Monster had fallen silent and suddenly Puck knew and understood peace, but above all that, above everything he understood love. He would wait for Kurt if the well known tunnel of light came for him. Maybe Kurt was supposed to do those things that Puck had planned for him. He was willing to wait for Kurt then, and he would gladly wait for Kurt now.

The End?

_**Okay, so here's the thing. I love the way I ended this, but the question mark is for you guys. In fact I left loose ends in the story so that you can make up your own judgments on them, on what happened or I can tie them up. I would like to continue the story. A quick spoiler, if I get 4 reviews to tell me to continue. Puck doesn't fade into the darkness. However if you like how I ended it then I'm good with leaving it as is. And please tell me what you think of the story before you tell me to continue writing. I was going for the creepy thing here and I kind of want to know if I pulled it off. So please tell me what you thought, and then tell me to leave as is, or go on. Thank you guys for reading. **_

_**Whiskey**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Okay, I guess I didn't make my intentions clear in the last chapter. In my mind I had a continuation of the story, which is what this is. I personally enjoy writing this story and didn't want it to end so quickly. Sorry, but I am going to continue with the story, as you've probably all guessed because I've added another chapter. Oh look at that I've done repeated myself. (PS I don't know Puck's middle name so I just came up with the most Jewish one I could think of. David) Please review again. I kind of think I might lose some people in the next couple of chapters so please bear with me. It will all come together.**_

Chapter 6

3 months after the attempt at eternity…

Columbus Institute for the mentally ill

Case File 44356: Noah David Puckerman,

17 year old Male

Caucasian

Attempted Murder first degree

Attending Doctor

James Bushfill

"Noah seems to have rare attributes of a basic schizophrenia, which leaves me some what baffled. This young man has many of the traits of the illness; however they seem to work in reverse. For instance, he is very goal oriented; something that his mother has mentioned that he never was before, and an A typical schizophrenic is not. He has no signs of Physical Symptoms, while showing emotional symptoms of hypersensitivity to criticism, insults or hurt feelings, growing infuriated if something is out of place, or said improperly. Yet while he expects this tactfulness from others, he his self does not follow the rules. He has on many occasions in the two days he has been here, refereed to me as a "'Limey Fuck.'"

"He becomes angry, hostile and suspicious of people around him, yet shows no significant changes in his personality, or his cognitive thought process, though his thoughts tend to race a bit more frequently then some one of his age and he has some what obsessive compulsive ideas. If anything I would say that this is a typical teenage boy going through the changes that we all have had to go through. Perhaps if someone one had looked in to his condition more closely they would have spotted different signs, however, most people would have thought of him just a bit below normal, which for a boy of his age is… normal.

"It was his delusions and hallucinations that brought me to my conclusion. I must reiterate the fact that I could in fact be wrong with my diagnosis as this is a rare, perhaps uncharted case as he also shows signs of narcissism, and split personality disorders as well as psychotic, sociopathic, tendencies.

"I am confused and slightly uncertain of how to diagnose Noah. Schizophrenia would be the "best guess" as I have consulted with other Doctors in the Institute and they would agree with me.

"All of Noah's desires, thoughts, and actions are not for him. They are for the boy he tried to murder, his boyfriend, Kurt Hummel. I have heard of cases like this before, yet not with such unselfish thoughts. Then again Noah claims that there is a monster inside of him, it some times controls him and sometimes he can see it. The monster he claims looks just like him, however, never speaks, only makes audible sounds, but Noah and this Monster are connected through emotions. He says that's how he communicates with it. When I asked him how long he had known the monster was there, he states that it has always been there, ever since he was a little boy.

"He believes still, that he and this boy Kurt should die together. He would protect Kurt in the after life with out the restrictions that are placed on him here. He claims there love would bond them after death and they would be truly happy. Yet while his motives are unselfish in this instance he nearly killed his best friend, whom he claims he did, but a demon took over his body, a test that God sent him to see if he would be fully capable of defending his "'beloved'" in the after life. He did this because he initially thought that he was going to try to take Kurt from him. His best friend, Finn Hudson, has yet to awake from his comma, and is still in critical condition after he attempted to stop Noah from strangling Kurt.

"As I can not easily place a diagnosis for this illness I shall treat him as a Paranoid Schizophrenic. It is my recommendation that Noah stay here until such time as he can be released back in to society. It is also my recommendation that he not be allowed any information on the well being, or where bouts of Kurt. I believe that the key to saving him is to keep him away from the obsession and treat the symptoms as they arise. For legal terms as per the agreement of the defense and prosecuting attorneys it is my professional opinion that Noah Puckerman is clinically insane and unaware of his actions as being malicious or wrong."

Dr. James Bushfill sat back in his overly stuffed office chair, removed his glasses, rubbed his eyes and let out a defeated sigh. A man in his early 40's, he stood six feet tall, with a slender yet powerful build, that with his tailored, somewhat expensive suit added to the distinguish air around him. His short hair, that was once a solid auburn, now had dashes of grey, the delicate lines that had begun to fill his face only added to his handsomeness. He was the type of man that women would stare at or become shy around. Smiling at him like idol school girls. His mire presents alone were enough for younger and older women to suddenly go in to a daze as he talked to them. Some claimed it was his thick welsh accent, others say it's his one brown and one blue eye that did it. Either way Bushfill was not a ladies man. Getting his degree in psychology at a young age from Oxford University, and later his doctorate, made it difficult for him to find what he considered to be a proper woman. No matter how much he tried not to analyze them he would find flaws in every single one of them that he could not deal with.

So, he moved to America and after a short stent in New York City, he was offered the position at the Columbus Institute, which was known for its cutting edge break troughs' in the psychological well being of its patients.

James, a straight shooter, as his American counter parts called him, wasn't at all ashamed to tell some one they were crazy. He had discovered early on that while some one might be "wacko" didn't mean they were incapable of understanding. He believed that some where in their brain rested a sane person, with a healthy heart and mind. He always considered that to be his first course of treatment for them. Just like a normal doctor would do in telling some one that they had a Brain Tumor or even something else. It had only failed several times. A disheartening thought that people couldn't get better.

Yet, tonight his mind was locked on this new addition to his insane family. A 17 year old boy who's only idea of love was connected with death. It was strange because most of the people who thought like this had commitment issues. He realized that it was suicide or murder and they had chosen murder over the latter because it was easier to process, and would get them out of there relationship in which the mind had given them no other way out. This was common in teenage girls whom thought that their boyfriends actually gave them a promise ring, or proposed marriage to them because they loved them, any boy would tell you it's to get laid.

This boy though didn't have that issue, in fact after conducting interviews with his mates at school they had all agreed that he was a ladies man, but all the girls he had been with had no misgivings about what he was after, and then there was Kurt, who thought the same way.

Whatever had triggered Noah's behavior was a sudden, terrifying disaster. Whatever had happened to give his "monster" more power was beyond his understanding. He would have to compile a list of questions to ask this boy. The one that would be the key to this would be what had triggered it. Noah would have to tell him what it was, explain it. He knew that was the key, however jogging his memory of that could be difficult.

He once again let out a defeated sigh.

"So much for early retirement," he said to himself as he walked back over to his desk and took a small sip of brandy. Even in his office he could hear the screams of the patients whom had yet to receive there medication so that they could sleep and he could at last go back to his lowly apartment.

Puck awoke slowly and blissfully as if he were waking up in the ecstasy of pure bliss. His whole body tingled; his neck and back weren't stiff like they had been while he slept in the jail house. He was warm, comfortable, and perfectly content as if there were no worries in the world. He hadn't been wakened by the sorrowful cries of the monster, or his cries for that matter.

He had slept soundly, more soundly then he had slept in years. It was tranquility that he was feeling. His mind, body and soul were rested. The only thing that could make this perfect and truly desirable was if Kurt was lying next to him.

The memory of the boy jolted his body from its relaxation and as he had tried to set up quickly he was unable to move. He panicked and fought against the unseen force holding him down; the demon that had infested Finn's body had followed him, trying to exact its revenge. That was the only thing it could be, it had to be the demon. It had followed him and now it had no body to control, no way to defeat it. It was another test from God, another test to show his worthiness for Kurt. Damn these test! The Monster let out the dreadful battle cry. Still Puck couldn't move. He fought fearlessly, as any proud warrior would. Still to no avail, and his perfect nigh of sleep was destroyed in an instant. He was now exhausted, head pounding from the huge surge of adrenaline, and the monster whimpered in defeat.

He looked down at his body thinking he would be able to see the demon, but all he found was a thick leather strap against his chest, like a giant serpent waiting to crush him, then two more on his wrist, then two on his ankles. He sighed in relief. It wasn't the demon. His mind fell back suddenly, as if it had wondered off and he had panicked. He had done that before no, biggie. It was Fight or flight… survival.

He knew where he was now; he growled in protest as his struggles, as pointless as they had been, probably made the whole floor aware of his rude awakening. The pitiful flat white walls of the tiny room didn't help matters much as there was nothing to stop the sound from escaping. Only the bed he lay in and a folding metal chair. The window however was letting in the warming sunlight and he wasn't able to shield his eyes from it as he gave a weak, futile tug at the wrist restraints. So he shut his eyes tightly.

The Monster sighed in relief at the darkness, caught some what off guard at the promise of another great battle with the demon, one the monster was intent on winning. It was with that desire that Puck had fought so valiantly against the non-existent demon. With the threat gone, when it was just Puck and the Monster, it coward back into the corners of Puck's brain. In to the darkest places it could find, away from the light. It sat silent.

There was the sound of feet approaching now. One set heavy. It nearly shook the floor with the purpose of each step. These feet marched instead of walked; they were the sound of power, and duty. They were the feet of something large and power. Behind them a second set, which were elegant and yet determined. The sound of dress shoes, not normal shoes, not what he would ware, clattered on the floor. Yet seemingly more powerful then the first set.

The feet stopped just out side his non-descript room. The lock on the door slid on the out side, the clanking sound echoed and was nearly deafening. It had to be that English doctor, the one that sounded like Giles, but spoke with the elegance of a nobleman. It had to be that snobby prick who wouldn't believe him when he said that he was fine, the snobby doctor that wouldn't listen to him, that he could be let out of the hospital, Finn hadn't hurt him that badly.

The Doctor didn't enter first. In fact the person whom entered first had the monster peek its head out from the darkness and smile, yet sent a wave of fear through Puck.

Never had Puck seen a man of this size, and he admitted this with under laying hurt pride. Finn being taller then he was didn't matter, because he was stronger, but this man, this inhuman creation that walked in the door first was beyond powerful, beyond strong. He nearly took up the entire doorway as he entered. Puck was almost certain he was going to have to duck to get passed the top half of the door.

Yet this man held the face of a cherub, with the eyes of a stupid, yet well taught man. His eyes alone told the story of his life. He had been bullied and weak, and never once sought an audience for his size. He might have been a football player, a good one, but that wasn't what he had chosen. This man had used his anger and frustration to help others by hurting them. He had turned all those negative emotions in to positive ones.

His smooth almost child like skin was a beautiful shade of brown, his hair, the coarse curls that was a trade mark of his African heritage, was trimmed professionally and neatly. Yet, you could tell by the way his cheeks lifted, by the lines that came from the crooks in his nose to the line in his mouth that he had a bright, cheerful smile, and his eyes, those dark eyes held a glimmer of compassion and love. This man was some one you could hug. He would let you cry in to his massive chest, he would hold you with those powerful arms as gentle as he would a new born child, laugh at your jokes, and he would throw you through a wall should you cross a line. That was the man who walked through the door first. A man the Monster wanted to cross.

Then the Doctor entered, the prate, the over educated idiot. He hadn't once explained to Puck what he was still doing in the hospital, or why he had been taken from the one he was in before they put him in jail, then to this one. He hadn't explained that, and Puck detested him. He asked stupid questions that anyone whom had ever been in love could so easily answer.

"Good Morning Noah. How are we today?"

Puck didn't answer; instead he laid his head back down on the pillow with an audible sigh of disgust. He wasn't going to answer anymore of his stupid questions, not again. The silent treatment would do him just fine. He didn't need to talk; he just needed to get to Kurt.

"This is Aries Thomas, he is your orderly, should you try to do something stupid he will be the one to deal with it on my behalf." The doctor said, His prim English accent oozed with superiority. Puck wanted to smack it out of him as he sat himself down in the folding metal chair.

Puck still didn't answer but looked over to the mountain that was named Aries. How fitting a man of his size be named after the God of War. Aries lifted his head, squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest. Oh the look Puck gave him was of course one of challenge. He wasn't going to cower before him. Not ever. Aries let a small smile crack at the corner of his lips. He apparently liked the challenge that Puck had issued. A challenge Puck was more then willing to serve to him. The Monster seemed to laugh in his head. Puck glanced over at the Doctor and smirked.

"More stupid questions or can I go?"

"Noah we have a lot more questions, years of them. You're not going anywhere until I give the okay."

"Years? I don't have years!"

"Yes you do Noah. There isn't much you can do about it as I see it." The limey fuck lifted his glasses higher on his nose.

"Why can't I leave? I have rights!"

"No, you don't. You see Noah; your rights all but disappear the minute that I declared you clinically insane."

The Monster inside Puck growled, but Puck was, for the first time in a long time, lost for words.


	7. Chapter 7

_**I'm going to try to get through this part as quickly as I can. I beg you please bear with me in this. It is vital to the rest of the story and explains so much as to what is going on. Puck is going to be in the institution about 4 chapters spanning the time of 5 years before he gets released. I'm going to try to make it as interesting as I can for you; however I enjoy stories more that have a history behind them. I admit it! Some of the best stories have bits like this in them, and if the author does it right (Which I'm hoping I do) it all comes together in the end and it's worth it. So please review, even if you hate it. I will get back to the creepy goodness! Thanks to my beta who is totally awesome!**_

Chapter 7

2 weeks after being in the institution

Alarms sounded throughout the complex, and James jumped from his chair with the agility of a man half his age. In essence this was a call to arms; all hands on deck, battle stations. The alarms meant that something had gone, or was going, terribly wrong. Either one of the patients had escaped, or a riot was happening in the halls below his office. His shoes, which had never been designed for running, dug into his feet with pain that could only be described as annoying and bothersome. Still he sprinted down the halls, dodging nurses and orderlies as they tried to get the more agreeable patients into their rooms.

Mrs. Johnson, an 80-year-old woman, was demanding to take the checkerboard with her so that she and her husband, who had died 60 years before, could continue to play. The nurse did exactly what he would have done: Picked up the checkerboard and ushered her into her room.

He saw Aries running ahead of him towards the stairwell, yelling something into the radio. For a man of his size, James had to admit that he could move when he had to, even though James was on top of him before he actually got to the stairwell.

"What's going on?" The doctor demanded as he headed down the stairs with the gentle giant who now seemed ready for war.

"It's that Puckerman kid. He's knocked out three of the staff and is going all bat-shit crazy. Apparently, it's like what you see in the movies; no one can get close to him and he has one of the nurses. He won't let anyone close to her."

"Damn it!" James exclaimed, his Welsh accent adding a sophisticated tone to even the most obscene curses. Noah hadn't made very many improvements-not that James could have expected him to-but he had at least stopped calling him crude names, though he still made the mocking comments about the doctor's last name that he had been hearing since he was thirteen years old.

The trip down the stairs seemed to take longer then it should have. Even in the midst of the action and heart-pumping adrenaline, he had wondered if he jumped on to Aries' back, would the man have even noticed the additional one hundred and seventy pounds? Even if Aries did, James was positive it wouldn't falter his step.

They crashed through the door, Aries almost taking it off its hinges, and ran down the hall, the bland-as anyone could imagine-white walls darted past them in a blur, as if they had been running through a cloud. The walls were kept white, without any bright colors, to help-in theory-keep people calm and submissive. Many of his colleagues argued this, including him; even to someone who was not mentally ill, the lack of color, of anything, could often send people into fits of depression or longing. Naturally, the hospitals wouldn't change their minds; it was far easier to clean white walls smeared with blood or other things released by the body.

As they rounded the corner, they could see a group of orderlies and nurses surrounding someone, who he could only assume was Noah. They were shouting, their screams rousing the other, more dangerous, patients into a frenzy. He could hear chairs being thrown around in the rooms. This was going to be a disaster. He and Aries pushed their way almost to the center. It wasn't anything unusual, but it was, in the fact that Noah was coherent; his yells and demands were properly enunciated and, for the most part, grammatically correct. His eyes didn't dance from person to person, but only to those that approached him; it was a natural cognitive function. His mind was in defensive mode and was attaining the threats around him. These were not the actions of an insane boy, only a frightened one.

The only thing that remained odd and even more peculiar was Noah's blatant nudity, with no actions to cover himself, or to use the nurse to shield him from the eyes of others. He held no shame of any regard; in fact, James wondered whether or not he was even aware of his nakedness.

. Normally, even the most brazen, well-built men feel some kind of trepidation when they are in the nude; even being sexually aroused they tend to hide in some kind of fashion, even if it's slightly turning there hips away from prying eyes-even people who get paid for it. Noah showed no such intention, no such hesitation, as he moved the nurse from one side of him to the other, always exposed.

The other thing that the English doctor feared was the syringe in Noah's hand. His thumb resting comfortably on the end, his hand perfectly placed to drive the needle into any part of the body of the nurse, Heather McKerisn.

"I would take it easy if I were you, Puckerman." Aries said; his deep, powerful voice seemed to quiet even the most disturbed patients. His massive body was poised to act the instant he had an opportunity.

"Back off, Blindside!" Noah shouted as he eased back a little farther into the wall. This was a horrible situation.

"Noah. I need you to listen to me, okay? Just put the syringe down and let her walk over to me, okay?"

"Screw you, Doc!" There was a rage in Noah's eyes that caused James to hesitate and think of his next words; Aries saw it, too. For the two of them after years of dealing with the criminally insane, one would start to pick up little tricks of body movement. Noah's body wasn't playing. He had every intention of killing the nurse.

"Okay, fine, then keep the syringe and let her come to me." It was a long shot, but it had worked before. Delusional minds would see the syringe as the seat of power, not the person they were holding. It would be a fair compromise to him. Except it failed; Noah gave him a mocking glance as they locked eyes. It was test of wills now. Noah was slowly sliding the needle into Heather's arm, but had yet to press the unknown liquid into her fragile blood stream. Then, James felt a bit of panic as he realized that whatever was in the syringe had to be medication of some kind, or the nurse wouldn't be so terrified. Adding to his own terror was the fact that the fate of her life now rested in his hands, and the hands of a deranged seventeen-year-old boy.

"Heather, what's in the needle?"

"Morphine." Her tears filled her soft brown eyes as they begged him to talk him this boy down, to save her life.

Morphine is known more for the euphoric feeling it brings on, its pain killing attributes, but it's a narcotic, and like any narcotic is lethal in large doses; the needle in Noah's hand was filled to the top. If he pumped it in to her she would surely die. James felt his heart skip a beat.

"Noah, please, you have to listen to me. You could kill her. You need to pull the needle out, keep her if you want, but take the needle out."

"She needs to die for what she did to me!" He bent the needle upwards forcefully. Heather let out a cry of pain; however, she held perfectly still.

"What did she do, Noah?" The doctor's hands were placed instinctively out as if his will alone would calm the boy, ease the situation. Sometimes he hated instincts like this; they were so pointless. All it did was held Noah's attention. It was at times like this that the geek in him wished he had super powers. That's why he had become a psychologist; because the human brain, in certain times, will weigh all of its options. Even the option, no matter how helpful it would be, that is not possible.

"She touched me, rubbed me! Only Kurt is aloud to touch me! ONLY KURT!"

That's why he was naked, that's how he got his hands on the morphine. She was bathing him, using the drug to subdue him, to make him calm and comfortable. She must not have given him enough, or she took too long; even then he should have been disoriented and sluggish. The only explanation was that he was so enraged, so furious, that the adrenaline his body was producing was countering the effects of the morphine. This made the situation all the worse; now they had a healthy, strong kid hyped up on Mother Nature's own narcotic.

"Okay, Kurt's the only one allowed to touch you. We didn't know that, Noah; she didn't know that." It was the moment of truth, and it only lasted a couple of seconds; the boy's eyes looked down to the floor, widening with realization. Still he didn't remove the needle; he looked back at James, and sneered.

"I'm pretty sure I can scrub my own ass! No one can touch me! Not ever!" The needle now seemed like less of a threat. He was slowly removing it from her arm, a small pool of blood filling the slash in her arm.  
"We can't promise you that, we will have to touch you, for many reasons, but we can let you take your own showers, as long as it is under supervision… Male supervision."

"I'm cool with that." His voice suddenly became soft, and with a single, mighty push from Noah, Heather fell to the floor and crawled away quickly, then syringe hit the floor and shattered.

Aries was on the move in a blink of an eye. James watched as the boy struggled against the massive arms that flung him into a wall and pinned him there. James saw to Heather first to make sure she was all right, and then the other nurses walked her away from the group. Two other orderlies had helped subdue the already subdued boy who was once again screaming in a fit of rage.

"Get him to isolation, and get some damn clothes on him!" James yelled in anger, his British accent taking on a coarse, almost dark, growl. "Aries, don't let him out of your damn sight!"

"Not a problem, Doc. You hear that, Puckerman? You and I are going to be good friends."

"Go to hell!" Noah grunted as he was pulled away from the wall like a child would pull away a doll from a shelf. James thought to himself, "Thank God for big black men."

Puck sat in a room without windows, the smell of urine, body odor, and other odors Puck couldn't identify was the only give-away to a filthy room that looked pristine in every other way.

One of the orderlies had thrown him a pair of the hospital issued pants. Baggy, comfortable, and "bland" as his sweet Kurt would say. He had slipped them on over his naked body, suddenly aware of how cold the room was, though he could hear the heater vents blasting out the warmth those others so craved; the sudden heat sent a wave of goose bumps over his skin making him shudder and sigh. .

The Monster sat trembling with rage in the back of his mind, not at the poor nurse who had made a simple mistake, one that Puck knew he slightly over-reacted about. He could have simply smacked her and told her not to touch him, but apparently Kurt's flare for the dramatic had rubbed off on him. No, the Monster trembled because of Aries. The behemoth of a man barely reacted when Puck had tried to pull away from him; even picked him off the floor with such little effort that Puck wasn't even sure the man felt the weight of his body. It growled at Puck at the thought that the two of them had finally met their match, one and only one other person in Ohio who was their equal or better.

Puck missed Kurt, oh-so-very much. They had stopped strapping him down to his bed as of late, after he had made another deal with the Limey doctor that he would stay in bed unless he had to take a piss. He did, yet most of the time he would lay awake in his little loony bin bed, holding one of his two pillows in his arms and pretending it was Kurt. Sometimes it was just like the nights that Kurt would sneak over to Puck's house just to lie in his arms. They would whisper their conversations, giggle and laugh quietly so they wouldn't wake up his mother and sister. Or physically they would enact their love, which was funny in itself with shushes followed by shy laughing as one of them would moan a little louder then they should have. Other times they just made out, or talked about the music that they had been working on in the club.

Other nights he would have fantasies about how if everything had gone as planned that night and he had wrapped himself around Kurt as he waited for the pills to take there effect, or as they held on to each other because Kurt hadn't resisted him. So they both waited in each other's arms, holding onto one another as eternity took them both, perhaps at the same time.

The scar that had formed, the mark that Kurt had put on him when he stabbed him with the scissors, was the only thing Puck had to remember Kurt by. At least it was something he could see that wasn't in his head; no matter how vivid they had been, fantasies never seemed to catch the decadence that surrounded Kurt. The scar, though, was sensitive to the touch; it was painful sometimes, but sent euphoric waves of pleasure through him, like Kurt did, when he touched it. The scar itself wasn't big, and had only really caused blood-loss and no other damage. It was elegant like Kurt. He even remembered how almost gentle the act of stabbing him was. He remembered that moment clearly. He was going to die and he was going to die without Kurt. He was okay with that, he guessed. Still Kurt had said he had loved him, so the only logical thing to assume was that God had spared his life so that he could bring Kurt with him. Maybe they would stand before God as the two greatest lovers of all time. A new Bible would be written and their story would rival even that of Sampson and his love that had betrayed him.

Those were the thoughts that got him through the nights in the "institution." The Limey Prick hated it when he called it the nut house, or loony bin, and he despised it when he called it parliament. He was certain the Doctor was going to punch him when he saw the old woman playing checkers, then looked at him and, in his best British accent, said, "Trying to save the queen, chap?"

Puck did have to admit that the Dr. James Bushfill, even with a dirty last name such as that, was a good man. Puck could have liked him if he had been one of his teachers, he would have been fascinated by his one brown eye and one green eye. The green one was similar to Kurt's in a way. The brown one was like his, though hazel would be more accurate to describe his own. He still liked the idea of calling them brown, or light brown. It sounded manlier, but Kurt called them hazel, and this doctor called them hazel, so he guessed that it was okay.

And his accent drove Puck crazy. The deep baritone with the pompous, arrogant accent was just sexy. Had he met the doctor before Kurt, he suspected they could have had a torrent love affair. Wild nights of passions as the Doctor gave way to his desire, throwing all his morality and dignity out the window just to be with him, just to touch him, kiss him. Oh, Kurt would have loved that story. It would have been like all those damn chick flicks that he insisted that Puck watch. He would have said it was romantic and sexy. It could have been. It might have been, but that wouldn't happen. Puck was too set in his ways, until Kurt, that is.

Of course, Kurt explained the ideas of school-boy fantasies to him. Even the one he had about Mr. Schuester. Puck didn't agree with it. Kurt said it was about the authority figures. That power is attractive to all men and boys so they all secretly desire it. It was about experience to Puck. What these older men could teach him that their wives couldn't. That's when he heard the Limey prick coming down the halls; his footsteps were unmistakable.

The Monster smiled dangerously and Puck understood exactly what he was thinking because he was thinking it too.

"Seduce the Limey and convince him to let you out so you can go back to Kurt." He whispered quietly to himself.

"Noah?" The Limey's voice had a hard edge to it. God, he liked this doctor; he wasn't all sugar and spice. He was a masculine version of Kurt. It was just as well that he was going to let this man do anything to him to get out. At the very least, Kurt would understand his cheating on him to get back to him. Or he hoped he would.

Puck looked over his shoulder at him, smiling like he would smile at Santana or Quinn. The Limey's face never once faltered.

"What's up, doc?"

"Don't play daft with me! Are you fully aware of what would have happened to you if you had killed her? Are you?"

"No, why don't you tell me?" Puck leaned up against the wall, folding his arms and pouting out his lips. He would naturally admit that this was a tacky, old move to get someone's attention, yet no matter what they thought of it, it never failed, just as it didn't fail now. The stone-cold firmness of the prim and proper doctor cracked, though not as decadently as Puck would have hoped. In more of matter of speaking, the doctor seemed to become more resolute in his speech. He was nearly condescending. He was defiantly mocking Puck. Of course, Puck wasn't one to be easily deterred. He gracefully pushed away from the wall. The Limey ass only straightened his already straight posture. His arms lifted slightly, and Aries started to enter the room slowly. Like two dogs becoming aware of another, sniffing the air, showing their teeth. It was two on two and Puck and the Monster liked those odds.

"You would have been taken to a maximum-security prison and locked up, in solitary. The only person you would have contact with would be the guard feeding you meals, and emptying your piss bucket!"

"Oh, come on, Doc. You like me too much for that. " Puck peered over the Doctor's shoulders to Aries, "Don't worry, Dreadnaught. He's safe."

Aries froze and the Doc turned around and nodded to him. Aries stepped outside, though keeping the door open just in case.

There were times when Puck would walk up up on Kurt with out him knowing; a terrified squeal, hand placed forcefully over his heart, followed by a verbal insult and then a playful hit on the shoulder or chest for scaring him. Those were happy times, fun times. Scaring people was a skill he had learned over years of being the school bully. He was the horrible child that could pounce on a dog because it couldn't hear him, or the cat that wasn't fast enough to get away. His dear little sister often got the worst of it. He knew he wasn't the best big brother, or the best boyfriend, but he always thought that those little moments showed the softer side of him.

The Limey didn't seem to think so highly of it. Just in that couple of milliseconds, that fraction of time that so many humans squander to get something so simple accomplished. . . Puck could move in that time. As if those instances didn't apply to him. In fact, there had been times when he felt like he was moving at his normal pace and the world around himself seemed to slow down to a crawl. It was crazy to think that it had actually happened like that, but to him it had. Even the times when he and Kurt would make love, time slowed for him. Every single kiss, touch, movement was slowed down, every instance savored.

The Limey took a quick step back, with Puck suddenly being a few dangerous inches from his person. Yet Puck followed slowly, of course, as the Doctor's quick steps had him pinned to the wall. It was the perfect spot for someone to be. Even placing one arm in the right spot would give the person the idea of being trapped, with no escape. He had done this to the doctor now. It was awkward, naturally, The Doctor was of course slightly taller then Puck, but still it was refreshing to be eye level with someone when he spoke so close to them.

Puck had never been so close to the British ass before; never had he enjoyed the fine lines in his face, the rough stubble that had formed on his strong jaw line that all but screamed of his masculinity. His eyes, the strangely combined colors; he had never met some one with two different-colored eyes. They were entrancing. Then there was his scent that reminded Puck of his grandmother's house in the fall and winter: He smelled Ginger, cinnamon, and old books. Puck would never mention to Kurt that he had enjoyed it. All relationships had secrets, and this would be one of them.

"You know, Doc, I was thinking that you're always here. A guy like you should be enjoying himself. You've been able to fight off the effects of time; you could have a young lady with you, or maybe a young man. Even a young man who has something to gain by you treating him, doing to him what ever you want, in return, he could… be let free from you at some point."

The Limey was scanning over his face with a look of a psychologist, not a man who was interested in sex. It was almost terrifying to the Monster. What man wouldn't be even remotely tempted, even if wasn't in to guys; how could he resist the prospect of sex? Then, with a swiftness that made the Monster scream in fear, making Puck freeze with no understanding of what was going on, he couldn't breathe, and he couldn't fight off the strong hands that had been wrapped around his throat. The Doctor was killing him.

"This fear, Noah, is what you put your beloved Kurt through. This is what he felt; this is what you were subjecting him to! Now in your mind, locked away," Puck could feel his arms going numb; there was a throbbing pain in his head as the oxygen became less saturated in his blood, his body now started its resistance to dying. Though he could still hear the doctor, he couldn't stop the tears from forming in his eyes. He didn't want to die. Kurt wasn't a thought to him; nothing was except his own survival at this moment. "is some sick romantic notion, and I'm going to find that idea and that little monster of yours, and I'm going to destroy them, kill them both, just like you tried to do with Kurt. So, if you want to get out of here, you will do things my way, and you, for once in your stupid, miserable life, will be happy."

He felt the air rush back in to his body, his lungs greedily filled with the clean life-giving gas and then he started to sob. How could he? He did that to Kurt. How could he have done that to Kurt? Then he heard the door shut, the loud clanking of a lock, and the only person he saw for a week was Aries, who brought his food, and the Doctor Bushfill, whom now he was terrified of.


	8. Chapter 8

_**So this is the chapter just before Puck gets released. Well 2 years before he gets released. Just to remind you, he has now been in the instituted for three years. So there are going to major changes in the way the story is told. Also, Dr. Bushfill's point of view will still be in the rest of the story though it will not be as predominant as it was in the other chapters. In fact he won't be in the story for a few chapters after this. The italics are Puck's thoughts just FYI, and please I'm not a reporter so when you get to that part don't hate on me! Please review and enjoy**_

Chapter 8

Echoing sound

It was winter, three years after Puck had entered into the institution, and the snow had started to fall. It was that fresh, crisp snow with the huge flakes that look like little clouds falling from the sky, covering the ground in a thick blanket of clean, metaphorically warm, pleasing white, the kind of snow that made the world silent and peaceful. The wind wasn't blowing, and the single car that passed sounded like a freight train running through the silence. These were Noah's favorite kind of snowy days. As of late, that is. He and James, whom he still referred too as the Limey only not with hatred, had been talking a lot. James explained the things that he had done wrong, that he could help him with; and he did. It had been almost a year since he had heard the Monster; it had been longer since he had seen it. They had moved him from the ward that was on the lower floors to the ones on the higher levels, which were more like little apartments instead of cells. They had windows that looked out into the garden, pictures hung on the walls, and they were all a warm, pleasing, light brown in color that reminded Puck of chocolate milk, which had now become one of his "healthier obsessions." That was James' take on it. Noah had to have a glass when he woke up. Even though it took James some doing, he got it every day. The patients weren't supposed to have "treats" every day. They normally only served orange juice and water. They also served mashed potatoes every Tuesday. They were way better then his mom's, even if they did come from a box.

Noah had also been helping James with some of his other patients like dear, sweet Mrs. Johnson, whom he had played checkers with until she had died. James always on hand to listen to their conversations, and when Mrs. Johnson had made a huge leap in her treatment, James congratulated Noah on it. She had said, "When my husband was alive."

That was one of the major things that turned Noah's life around. Mrs. Johnson had been his guiding light through the years that he was there. She had been in the institution fifteen years, talking to her dead husband, and she died just starting to see past her clouded fantasy. He had cried when that had happened. He cried because he couldn't play checkers with her anymore; he cried because he wouldn't hear her stories about how great her husband had been; and he cried for himself because he didn't want to die here, the crazy old man who was in love with someone he had tried to murder.

He had realized, painfully, that he had tried to murder Kurt. He still loved him, James said that that was all right, he would always love Kurt, he just wasn't allowed to see him again. Noah didn't want to see him. He wasn't sure he could face the boy… or the man, now, as it were, that he had tried to kill.

Aries had become his friend, his best friend, in fact. It was part of his therapy to have the large man talk to him. On spring and summer days they would go out into the garden to talk about anything Puck had wanted; James, of course, watched to make sure everything okay, and ask what they were talking about. They wouldn't let Noah watch television, for some reason. That was sudden change in his routine; one day he could watch TV, the next day he couldn't. He was upset to the point that they had to inject him with something. So Aries kept him up to date on the sports games, even recording certain ones, but not all of them, that they could watch together. With chips, popcorn, and wearing jerseys from their favorite teams, they got to watch the Super Bowl the day after. It was odd because some of the commercials had been edited out. The Monster was still there during all of this, but he kept it quiet. There were nights, even days, where he would break out in to sweats, his muscles would be sore for tensing up, just to keep it, the manifestation of his mind, quite. He told James about this, of course. James told him some things that would help, like deep breathing, even running songs, musical notes through his head, and gave him some pills. Then, one day, just like that, Puck woke up as Noah, and the monster was gone. His mind was actually quiet and he felt what he should have felt like all those years before. Then his mind started with the memories. He called that "the week of remorse." He would sit in his room and cry. He would scream, even, as the memories of what the monster had done, had made him do, flooded his brain. They were all such painful memories, which he couldn't believe used to bring him joy, even happiness. It was shortly after that they allowed him visitors. Yet none came. No one; not even his mother had shown up. He wrote her letters thinking that maybe she had just missed the calls or whatnot, but all of his letters came back with "return to sender" on them. James was the one that broke the news to him; Aries held him while he bawled in to the comforting chest. His mother and sister had moved out of Lima. They had forgotten about him, disowned him. Aries and James were now all he had left. He wanted to write to Finn. Maybe to convince him to visit, or even Mercedes, Quinn, Rachel; even Jewfro. Yet he couldn't bring himself to send them the letters. He wanted to ask for their forgiveness, but he didn't think they could forgive him. He couldn't forgive one of them if they had done it.

Yet he wrote the letters anyway; James said it would be good for him, and it was. It would have been better if they weren't all in a drawer in his room, though. If they had been read by his friends, that would have been better. He even wrote to Ms. Sylvester telling her about how he was doing, and how she and James should meet.

Though Noah, as changed as he was, couldn't be released. He was now twenty years old, spending what were supposed to be the most exciting times of his life in a mental institution. James was too concerned about how much he still talked about Kurt. Though now it wasn't about his love for the boy, which still burned in his chest. It was more about what he had done and, then again, there was his temper. He would get angry. He would scream, yell, and call people names still. It was actually refreshing to him that it was his own voice. Even Aries made the comment to the Doc that he was just venting his frustrations. Noah agreed with him. He might not have had the Monster within, but he still had Noah to deal with.

He rested his head against the window and looked out over the snow-covered gardens, now dead. No, dead wasn't the right word; sleeping would be better. Sleeping would be a positive way to look at it.

"Doc, do you think I could go sit in the garden later?" Noah looked over at James, who was peering at him over his glasses as the boy sat in silent observation of the world around him. Noah was shocked at how loud his voice was in the office. Even the crackling of a fire didn't seem to register to him.

"Noah, it's cold. Why would you want to set in the garden?"

He shrugged his shoulders a little bit. "It looks beautiful, peaceful. Would it be weird if I said I just wanted to be part of it for a little while?"

"No, not at all." Noah had secretly fallen in love with James, something he would never confess in there time together. James loved to say 'not at all' a lot, but his accent made it sound like atall. It was delightful. Noah had now, because of James, mastered the English dialect and would get roars of laughter from the nurses and orderlies when he would bark out a command and they would turn to acknowledge James, but find that it was Noah. Someone had said it was creepy, but in a good way.

"I would, however, prefer if you took Aries with you; while it is quite beautiful out there, I'm not one for the cold." Noah nodded. "So, it has been a while since I have asked. Have you heard or seen the monster, even a whisper?"

"No. He's still there, though. I can feel him, I guess. I guess you would say he's getting weaker?"

"That would be a good way to say it, yes."

"Sometimes at night, just before I go to sleep, at that point when you're halfway in between, he seems to get stronger, but then I drift off; when I'm out, he's gone. I don't hear him or feel him like I used to. I like waking up alone, without him."

"Why are you referring to the Monster as him and not it? I don't believe I've ever heard you do that before." James sat forward and rested his large hands on the desk, folded neatly and properly, as any gentleman would do.

"You're the one that told me I was the one manifesting it, so what I was calling it was actually a he. So, the monster wasn't a monster at all. It was me. I'm a monster."

James looked almost sorrowful, but delighted.

"You were never a Monster, Noah. You were…" But he was interrupted.

"Please, don't tell me I was sick, or am sick. I'm fucked-up, loony, crazy, mentally screwed. I just don't want to sound like I'm the Plague anymore. So, please call me something else besides sick."

"Do you feel like the Plague?"

"What do you think? I almost killed Kurt and Finn, My mother and sister aren't anywhere to be found, and I can't even send people freaking Christmas cards!"

"That's because you're Jewish, Noah."

Noah looked at him and tried not to smile, "Have you been sampling the pills again?"

James smiled, stood from his desk, and walked over to the window.

"You've come a very long way in a very short amount of time. I'm still working on tracking down your mother, and if you want I can get a hold of anyone else. Mr. Schuester is still teaching at your school. Finn? You need to see someone from your past, Noah."

He pushed away from the window and ran his hands through his hair where his Mohawk had once been. It had been gone for years, since his third week in the institution, in fact. Aries had to pin him down to do it, and the wall that he was ended up with a black eye. Noah had to have a tooth put back in his mouth and now had a delightful little scar on his bottom lip.

"I don't think I can see them. Honestly, what would I say to them? 'Sorry that I tried to stomp your head in while you were trying to protect Kurt from me? OH! And sorry I knocked up your girlfriend.'"

James sat gracefully on the couch, crossing his legs and smoothing out the small wrinkles in his pants. _Kurt_. He had taken on that look. That look he had every time before he said something profoundly relevant to what was being said. That look still made Noah want to smack it off his lovely face. He never told James that. He could chalk that up to a superiority complex that seemed to be a mainstay of his personality. _His personality, not the monsters, but his. _

"It would be a good place to start. You're still very angry with yourself; I thought the letters would help vent that frustration, but it doesn't seem like it is working. You need to talk to someone else, besides Aries and I, Noah. We've seen how much you changed seen, how you've become the boy you should have been all those years. The others, who actually matter, haven't."

That broke Noah's heart a bit. _You do matter. You matter so much, James._ Aries and James did matter to him. He loved them both more then either of them could ever know. They were like his family, putting him in his place when he was wrong, listening to his entire BS without judging him, fighting with him verbally and physically. It was everything he needed to get better and he realized that. They were talking to him about his problems, about what he wanted, and then giving him what he needed. Apparently, Noah had waited too long to answer, so deep was he in his thoughts. That was one of James' other concerns, as Noah could not make split-second decisions yet. Noah, who hated to admit it, still paused for the Monster's input out of habit.

"Why don't you go out to the garden, Noah? You can think about if you want visitors or not. I'll have Aries leave you alone so you're not distracted."

"No, its okay, I like talking to Aries."

"I know you do, but you need to be alone for this. I want it to be your judgment on who comes to visit, and what you say to them. It's your project to work on, not a group effort."

Aries stood at the door to the garden while Noah ventured out on his own for the first time without a shadow beside him. He shivered, but not from the cold; without the wind, it was perfect. It was the alone feeling that had encompassed him. He had grown so used to having someone with him at almost all times. Hulking men in white uniforms, mostly always Aries, but there were others that would walk him around on Aries' days off, always within arm's reach of him, always ready to tackle him, to restrain him.

He paused for a second and looked back at Aries, if only to make sure that his best friend was still there. To make sure that he was only a few seconds away, not because Noah was afraid of himself anymore; it wasn't that. It was just in case he needed him.

The garden was silent, cold, and not as beautiful as it was looking out of the window. There was no way out of the garden. When he was Puck he had looked for a way to escape, but the walls were to high to jump or climb, the trees to far away to make a bound over into the street beside it. In fact, it was always quiet, but now it was a deafeningly quiet. He had never heard it so quiet, ever. He always could hear something, even if it was moaning from the Monster. This time there was nothing. He froze on the spot, terrified of it. He had never heard absolute silence before. He started to shake a little in the cold, yet he hadn't moved.

"Puckerman. Are you all right, man?" Aries' voice shattered the silence in a way that was so welcoming and comforting. The deep bass reverberating through his body, it even seemed for a split second that the snow had fallen faster, as if his voice could shake the heavens themselves.

Noah looked back at him and smiled, nodded his head yes. Aries had turned out to be like that big brother he wished he had never had. Granted, Aries was six feet nine inches tall, about three hundred and twenty pounds; compared to him at five feet ten inches tall that was damn near a foot taller, and twice as heavy. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he was crazy. There was no way he could have taken Aries, even with the monster's help, yet the monster convinced him that they could.

"Yeah, just surprised at how quiet it is." Noah said as he shoved his hands into his pockets. That's when the silence was shattered again, only now not by the comforting voice. No, this was more terrifying, filling not only his mind but his ears, it was so loud even Aries heard it and turned and looked back in to the game room thinking it was the TV. Then he turned back with absolute terror in his eyes. He could hear it.

It was such a joyful, happy, cadence coming from such a girly laugh, with the sweet innocence. Aries shouldn't have been able to hear it why was it so loud; it was too loud, way too loud.

"Puckerman? Don't do it, Puckerman."

Noah couldn't hear him. He was fighting. It felt like his whole brain was shaking. He couldn't hear or see it, but he could feel it. He could feel him trying to break out and take control. No, it wasn't that. It was his mind reacting the way it thought it should have, yet fighting to keep itself in line, through all the memories, feelings that were being stirred up. Yet his mind had made the sound hadn't it? Why did it make the sound? His mind raced again. _Oh, god, a new Monster!_

He turned from the sound, raced through the garden. The cold, now unforgiving, snow was being kicked up in his boots, freezing his feet, his toes. They weren't meant for running in snow; in fact, they were hospital-issued and only meant for quick little jaunts to the vans. He heard Aries come after him, but Aries couldn't catch him; he was too fast. He was running straight for the wall. The bench that set in the middle of the garden was in his way, but seemed small when he jumped over it; Aries had to go around. He screamed in terror and frustration as he heard Kurt start talking to him. He couldn't hear it, and he didn't want to. He had to get away from the sound, and the farther he ran, the quieter it got.

He was approaching the wall, the great wall of the institution, and he jumped, his fingers just barely making the edge of the top. One slipped in the snow, but the other held on tightly, and he pulled himself over and down on to the street. He froze.

On the other side of the wall he couldn't hear anything. It was silent again, except he could hear Aries screaming his name now, angry and scared.

"I'm right here, Aries. I'm right here." He yelled back as he slid down the wall into the cold snow.

"Noah, don't go anywhere, we're coming to get you. Don't go anywhere, don't talk to anyone. Do you understand?" There was relief in his voice now.

"Okay." Noah couldn't fight the tears that were coming down his face, and as he looked around, he could see people walking farther down the street. It was strange for him to be on this side of the wall for the first time. He hadn't ever left; he hadn't needed to. He made an inventory of everything he saw. Starbucks, McDonalds, Wal-Mart. A lone snowplow came screaming down the street.

Then, something caught his eye. A long gray trench coat, like an upper-class English gentleman would wear. In fact, he was, and at the sight of the handsome Doctor, who had stopped and was looking at the crying boy setting on the ground, he began to spout apologizes left and right.

"I heard Kurt in my head, he was laughing at me. I think the monster is back. I think he is going try to get me to go after Kurt. I didn't mean to cross the wall."

Aries was there, too, and he pulled Puck_…Noah, Noah,_ off the ground and back into the institution, where he fell asleep, and not because he wanted to.

He awoke hours later with James sitting beside his bed. He had a few magazines in his hands, and he lightly flipped through them. Noah was too ashamed to say anything except,

"I'm sorry."

James looked up at him and smiled a little.

"It's not your fault, Noah. It's mine. I should have told you a long time ago. I just didn't think you could cope if you saw it."

"Saw what?"

James reluctantly handed over one of the magazines, People, with Kurt on the cover. The title down in the left hand corner read, _**"The truth behind Kurt Hummel's killer roll. **__Page 65.__**"**_

Noah looked at the picture. Kurt had changed over the course of the three years, since that night, since the last time he had saw him. He was still elegantly beautiful, still clearly gay, but he had stronger features now, more man-like and not so child-like, and his eyes, those beautiful eyes, seemed even deeper and more loving, but still the color of the Mediterranean. Puck let his finger brush over the eyes once before he looked at the Doctor.

"I don't understand." Puck said. He was trying to keep his eyes locked on James, to distract him from the image of Kurt in front of him.

"Read the article, Noah."

"_So, Kurt Hummel came out of nowhere. No, seriously, he came out of Ohio! Now, we had to ask the question here at People. How did a small-town gay kid make it all the way to Hollywood, into a major motion picture, and then another one right after that, with more in the lineup? Now, aside from his good looks (which, for the first time in a long time, are actually overshadowed by his acting ability), why are people so drawn to this kid who, in all likelyhood, had no chance in Hollywood? He has a squeaky voice, weird clothes, and is gayer then a packing plant of Skittles, yet he played the horny straight teenager in Campus Cake with almost habitual ease. Now, he is showing his acting chops in the new thriller Alcot Drive. Well, we wanted to know, so we asked, of course, and you won't believe what we found out._

_It seems that our new little gaysweet heart got noticed not because of his acting abilities, but because of his personal life. It seems that when we was seventeen, Kurt Hummel had a stalker. Now, not only did he know this stalker, but it was his own boyfriend who tried to murder him. Gasp! With not so much digging, we found out that it was true. The story, at the time, was all over the local news, but never made it any farther then Columbus, the capitol of Ohio, for those of you who've never heard of it. _

_So, one day, about two years later, Kurt is filling up his car with gas, buying a Diet Coke, and going to work at the local Wal-Mart when he his noticed by none other than Steven Spielberg; not joking, Spielberg! They had a cup of coffee and the rest, as they say, is Hollywood history. _

_Oh, don't worry, Hummel fans! Kurt's crazy boyfriend is locked up for a good long time! _

_So, just to give you all a break on what is in line for Hummel… Need we say Spielberg again? Yeah, that's right, next year he starts shooting with… Speilberg. You'll have to forgive me if your gay author here has a fangirl moment: SQUUUUEEEEE! _

Noah closed the magazine and looked over at James, who looked at him somewhat solemnly, then reached over and took the magazine from Noah's shaking hands.

"Kurt's an actor? A famous actor?" Noah asked quietly.

"Yeah, he is."


	9. Chapter 9

_**This is a very short chapter. I've been hitting a lot of Bunnies, and Road Blocks and a couple of brick walls for the last couple of chapters. Please let me know if I'm losing you guys. After this chapter we will get back to the Purt creepiness! My Beta is MIA so I apologize for any errors minor or major, but it's all good. :-D Alright thank you all fro reading, please keep reading, I think my story kind of rocks and I need you guys to keep reminding me of that so please review even if it's a boring Chapter… Like this one is. I know it is, I feel asleep writing it, that's why it's short. Thanks you all.**_

Chapter 9

A whole new world

James sat across the table from the board of inquiry and two attorneys one representing Kurt Hummel, and the other one Noah. He was uncomfortable setting there looking as the other psychologists looked over his reports, which they had already done. The Attorneys there to represent and if need be argue the points of the two clients that weren't present.

"Doctor Bushfill, you have been the tending Doctor to Noah Puckerman over the last five years is that correct."

"Yes that is correct."

"I was looking over your files and you declared that Mr. Puckerman is a paranoid schizophrenic, however you also stated that he is a unique case. Is that Correct?"

"Yes Ma'am it is."

"Doctor the reason we are here is because you now claim that Mr. Puckerman is fit to lead a normal life with the stipulation that he continue to see a therapist and take mild anti psychotics. If he is a unique case then why is he being released so soon?"

"Noah has made a remarkable recovery in the last five years. He has shown no signs of delusions and we have not had a significant incident with him for over two years."

"I take it you are referring to when he tried to escape from the hospitals care?'

"He didn't try to escape the care of the hospital. He panicked because he thought that he heard what he claims to be 'The Monster' in his head laughing like Mr. Hummel. It is a very common action that people who are getting better feel when something like that happens. His mind was trying to rationalize what he was hearing and when it couldn't he ran from it."

The Doctor across from him leaned forward in her chair and made direct eye contact. James wasn't intimidated; she was setting in the chair that he had been offered many times before she took it. She knew he was a better psychologist.

"You're also asking that this Hospital proved him with housing and help him find a job."

"Yes I am."

"Please explain why."

"Noah came to us at a very young age; he has no high school diploma and no means, or family to take care of him once he leaves the hospital. I believe it would be in his best interest to accommodate these things for him, so that he may adjust better in the world that he knows very little about."

"I trust your judgment James, and we will accommodate Mr. Puckerman to the best of our abilities however, he will have six months before he has to start taking care of his own rent. Agreed?"

"That is acceptable."

Kurt Hummel's attorney jumped to his feet catching everyone's attention. His high powered suit made the public defender look like a popper, yet the public defender also looked at him like he was a tool.  
"Mr. Puckerman is not allowed any where near my client do to the restraining order. Is he aware of that?" The distain in his voice was clear and James stiffened in his chair. The prate was acting like he was in a court of law.

"Yes, Noah is fully aware of that, and believe me Kurt Hummel is that last person he wants to see. Even if did, he is too ashamed of what he did to face the man head on. Also if you would please refrain from speaking Mr. Puckermans name as if it's a swear word. He has turned out to be one of the finest, most intelligent young men I have ever met in my life!"

Puck stood at the window that had been his little apartment for the last three years. He was rubbing the jeans that James had bought for him, feeling the fabric that was now so foreign to him. It was cores and stiff, nothing like the hospital issued pants that were less restrictive. In fact when he looked in the mirror it was hard to recognize him. The cloths, he hadn't worn actual cloths in such a very long time, and he had three whole bags of them.

If there was anything in the world that was more terrifying then the monster, it was this. He knew he was better. He hardly thought of Kurt, even watched him on the Jay Leno show and laughed at his jokes as if he didn't know who he was. Kurt was different too. Not the same boy he had fallen in love with. That made it easier for him to adjust. But he was leaving home, the safety of the hospital, his family.

He had cried when James told him he would be leaving in a week. He had cried everyday since that moment. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to pay bills or to shop for food, or pay his taxes; he didn't even know what kind of milk to buy for his morning fix. Did they serve whole, skim, or two percent at the hospital? Let's not forget cooking. Aries had brought him one of his wife's cook books. It was actually his. It was _Cooking for Dummies._

They had given him a crash course on life in that last week. They had taught him how to budget his limited income from his new job. He was a bag boy at the local super market near his new apartment. A studio that James said was just the right size and when all was said and done was well with in his price range and in a good part of town. They had told him who to call to set up the utilities and told him how to get to his new therapist a Doctor Phillis Marno who by court order he had to see twice a week. Luckily he didn't have to pay for that.

They told him the bus routes around the city, even taught him how to clean, and Aries made up a shopping list of things that he needed to buy right off the bat, and then once a month after that. They were the simple little things that Noah always had on hand when he was at the hospital. Things like tooth paste, toilet tissue, paper towels, soap, sponges for his dishes. A nurse even tried to explain to him the very dynamic science of laundry. Aries simplified it by saying that he only had to separate the whites from the colors and not to worry about anything else.

The worst part, the hardest part, Aries couldn't hang out with him or he would risk being fired. Noah was literally going out in to the world alone. He had always heard that it was un-forgiving, but now he had no one to turn too when it got bad, with just the cloths on his back and a check from the state for eight hundred dollars. It was more then half of what he would make at his job. In fact his first check would go to his rent. He couldn't do this, but James said he had to.

"Puckerman the cab's here."

Noah turned and looked at Aries who was standing in the door way of his little room, Noah had a hard time seeing in to the hall passed his goliath best friend.

"Okay." Noah said as he looked out the window one last time.

Aries examined the boy, his warm deep eyes tracing over the cloths, the brand new white tennis shoes, watching Noah wipe tears quickly away from his eyes.

"You know, I remember this punk ass kid that came in here one time. He had this stupid Mohawk on his head; the dumb idiot didn't have a single shred of fear in his body. Tried and did get in fights with me every single day he was here for at least a year. Now, keep in mind this pain in my ass was one of the craziest sons of a bitches I had ever met in my life, but I admired him. Really I did, but then something happened."

"What?" Noah said with a smile wiping the tear from his eyes again as he looked at Aries with contending glare.

"He got better, got stronger. See, what happened was that he had kept himself in this dark place, but he fought through it. Now, he is one of the most bad ass people I have ever met and I'm proud of him. I know he is going to be okay, because what he accomplished in here, is nothing compared to what he can do out there." Aries lifted his head towards the window and Noah smiled.

"You don't think he is a pansy for crying?"

"Oh a real man will cry, but he keeps going, a coward will cry and hide. Come on Kid. The meters running"

Nothing sounded quite as final as James closing the trunk of the cab with all of Noah's new cloths in them. Like a jail cell being slammed or a gun shot. What ever it sounded like Noah jumped and held on to the straps of his back pack.

"If you have any issues call me. I will send some one to find you, but I don't think that will happen." James said his words bring an ending to the only place that Noah new. They shook hands and that was it. Noah looked out the window as Aries and James disappeared back in to the walls of the institution.


	10. Chapter 10

_**NOW back to the creepy goodness. This is another short chapter. Thanks for those of you who stuck with me through all this. I'm estimating about 3 to 5 more chapters. Please keep reviewing! Pleeeaassee! Happy late thanksgiving**_

Chapter 10

Every where he looked

Noah had been out of the institution for three months now. He was holding his job, though he hadn't made any friends. He had tried, but word spread quickly through the store of the "crazy guy" who was going to be working there. He knew something like that would happen and he was almost ready for it. That's what he talked about the most with his new shrink, who, despite the lack of Welsh accent and the fact that she always wore brown skirts. Noah liked. She was too professional, though. She didn't like to joke around, and, unlike James, she held back.

"Now, Noah, how do you feel about people walking out of the break room when you walk in?" It was stupid questions like that that made him want to stop seeing her, to go running back to his home and tell James that he had heard the monster, that it had been stalking in his mind again, making him think of Kurt in horrible ways. But that was a coward's way out. Noah wasn't going to be a coward. He was going to do what Aries had said and cry, and keep going. It wasn't so bad. He could go walk around late at night if he wanted to. Which he did a lot.

He still found comfort in the cold night and darkness that still crept around in his soul. He could think better then. It had also helped him learn his new home. He now knew where he could buy a car, where the gay bar was-not that he went in-hell, he even found an awesome Mexican restaurant that served some of the best burritos he had ever had.

There was a street though, one that he hated to walk down; it scared him. It was well-lit, but the way the buildings were set up, the way the stoplights would flash yellow after midnight and the smell of garbage wafting through the air would mix with the exhaust of the late bus, the one that ran from Graber Street to the square.

Somewhere, always in those shadows, through the snow, the fog, and the rain he could see someone watching him, always at the same spot, the same alley. He had tried to avoid it, but he was always drawn there and he had tried not to look, but they were always there. It was probably some vagrant, some poor soul, who didn't have anywhere else to go. Perhaps they had found some kind of small comfort in the fact that they weren't the only one alone out there on the cold streets.

There was a chance that it would happen to Noah; he would become some homeless, smelly guy roaming the streets alone. Following some handsome young man who, for whatever reason, reminded Noah of himself, and he was aware of that. He didn't know what good money was, but he sure as hell wasn't making it at the supermarket. Maybe if he started looking into going to school, or getting a guitar, he could make some extra money. He hadn't played in a long time but he had the desire to do it now. He needed something familiar to him, something to make him happy.

He kept walking every night, until the air started to warm, until the checks from the state had stopped coming, until he knew what it truly meant to be on his own. The person still watched him in that alley. The darkest one, but then he started to see him other places, too. He could tell it was the same person, but he didn't think much of it. The warm air probably allowed him more freedom now. But Noah always saw him in the same general area.

Then there was Kurt; he was every where Noah went. The store where he worked filling Magazines, on TV where they would show the trailers for his movies, or interviews with morning TV shows, and, of course, the one other gay guy that worked with Noah was always talking about him.

However, it was the cover of People magazine that set everything into motion for Noah. It was a heart-breaking image of Kurt standing next to some tall, handsome blonde. Noah couldn't help but notice the glint of sadness in Kurt's eyes. That's what it was, of course. Despite the bright brilliant smile and the loving embrace the two held each other in, Noah could see it. Though his hands started shaking when he saw Kurt's hand, so delicately placed over the other man's chest, over his heart, with the still perfect nails shining as if God himself had placed the stars in tight clusters on his cuticles.

Noah put the magazine in the rack, but only because of the sheer pain that cascaded up through the base of his neck to his head. This painful sensation was like nothing Noah had felt before, and it was so strong it brought him to his knees, clutching the sides of his head as if the pressure would push the debilitating pain out, back to where it came from. It was as if his brain had caught fire, burning the flesh into smoldering ashes.

He felt a rough, strong hand placed on his shoulder, heard a voice calling his name. He knew it was his store manager, a total dick, but still, his concern for Noah was slightly heartwarming. Noah looked up at him, his eyes watering from the pain and he looked into the man's eyes. The pain had started to recede, but it was still there. Noah hadn't had a headache in years and was hesitant to admit that it was because of the picture of Kurt. It couldn't have been. He had been seeing him everywhere he looked. It wasn't that. Maybe he was sick; maybe it was just stress. He didn't know but his manager insisted that he go home and call his doctor… Both of them.

Noah had returned home, naturally, taking some painkillers from the store. Nothing overly powerful, mind you, his anti-psychotics had a whole list of don'ts that came with them. There wasn't much he could do for the pain though it was still there, sometimes shooting through his head; it was only seconds of pain before it disappeared back to the dull throbbing of a normal headache. He just needed to sleep to take the pain away. The painkillers would take care of it, and he could lay down in his small little apartment, on his bed, and that's just what he did.

It was when he was asleep, when he was calm, relaxed thoughts of Kurt, the other man, and the pain gone. It was in that perfect moment that he had so come to cherish he felt the warmth of another body pressing up against his back. He felt the strong arms circle around his body, pulling him closer, a familiar smell filled his nose, and he felt his body relax more then he had ever felt it relax before. He smiled, knowing who it was, how Kurt had found him he didn't know, and he didn't care. The boy he had so loved had heard about his release and had come back for him, come to enact their love again, even if just for one night. Even if eternity beckoned them, one night was all Noah wanted.

He turned over, eyes still closed, and felt the warm lips press to his. Noah knew this was a dream, but it was a great dream, vivid and true. He needed this dream. Maybe because he hadn't felt another's touch like this in so long, maybe he was longing for it, and so his mind pulled from the only place that it could that made him feel happy, and Kurt was the option there was.

He wanted a glimpse of that skin, those perfectly maintained eyebrows, that soft curve of the forehead, to touch the small of his back that would make them both whimper as it had done all those years ago.

However, this wasn't Kurt he was seeing. This wasn't Kurt he was kissing, even though his mind told him so, his eyes told him something different. No, this wasn't the Kurt from his past, this wasn't even the Kurt now; it was someone different, someone stronger. Someone with a Mohawk. The Monster! It pulled back from him and smiled a devil-may-care smile and laughed. Noah was pinned beneath him. He couldn't move, couldn't scream, all he could mutter was two simple words, over and over. "Not real, not real, not real."

His real eyes shot open, his body jumped from the bed, and he danced around the small apartment, looking for the monster, looking for any sign of it, any sound that would give him a sign of its presence, but everything was still and silent.

The medication James had given him-he told him to take it if he saw the monster and to call him the minute he had seen it-where was it? He ran to the small bathroom and threw open the cabinet, went through his backpack he carried to work; he couldn't find it. He had put them somewhere he would find them quickly, and he couldn't remember where. He had to call James. He couldn't remember where the number was.

"This can't be happening…" Noah said to himself.

Then a warm, pleasing sensation came over him, like he had been wrapped in a blanket that was fresh from the dryer, after being out in the cold. He closed his eyes. All the fear in his body seemed to melt away, slowly, like an ice cube melting in a glass of water left out in the summer sun. The feelings of longing were replaced with a sensation of fulfillment and sadness.

The man he had seen in the alley all those cold winter nights was his friend, his power that made him who he was. How could he have left him in the cold; how could he have thrown him away, the strength that he gave, the power to love was because of him… because of it. How could he have thought that he was better off with out it? They were meant to be together. They loved each other, they loved Kurt.

He looked in the dirty, small mirror of his little bathroom, ran his fingers through his hair, and smiled. He didn't miss his Mohawk. He could see it now anytime he wanted on his face, on the face of the monster.

The monster in his brain roared loudly, which made him laugh with delight. Oh, how he had missed it. Now, they had work to do. They were going to get Kurt, they were going to bring him into eternity, and there would be no mistakes this time. No rushing it. It would have to be quick, of course, but it wouldn't be hurried. It couldn't be. This was a new Kurt they were dealing with. They needed to know him now, they needed to find out what made him tick, what drove him. They needed to know what he loved most now. Then he and the monster would take Kurt like they always had, then hold him tightly so that he couldn't get away this time. Love like the three of them shared was timeless. He would prove that soon enough.

He smiled. "Welcome back, Puck."


	11. Chapter 11

_**Epic Author's note: In ever single one of us lays a monster, a being that is capable of the most horrendous of things. These monsters are just as much a part of us as the air we breathe, or the heart that beats in our chest. It is because of these horrible creatures that we know the difference between right and wrong. This is because in ever one of us is the opposite of the monsters. Still some times the monsters prevail and in their wake leave nothing but heart ach and despair. PS. My beta is MIA. All mistakes are mine. **_

There was so much to do and so little time to do it. Puck had returned to his former glory. He was working hard to obtain the body he had when he was younger, the one that Kurt loved. The muscles had begun to reform in a frighteningly exquisite manner. More defined and god like then when he was a child. He had to be like this, not just for Kurt, or himself, because there was going to be a fight. He needed to be ready. It would only be a matter of days after he had left his quaint little apartment get to L.A. and take Kurt before James would realize something was wrong and come looking for him. Kurt's people would be notified. They would naturally alert the police and Kurt would have to bring on extra security for his home.

He had to keep motivated, he had to keep strong. He continued to work, neglecting to pay his rent, utilities, and only buying food that he needed, not wanted. He worked harder then ever, picking up extra shifts, and stealing away all the magazines that held Kurt's likeness.

He had placed the word "eternity" above his bed, on the refrigerator, on the ceiling. He had only cut out a few of the pictures of Kurt, only destroyed several of the magazines. They were his motivation. He loved to trace his fingers over them, waiting for day that it wouldn't be the waxing coldness of paper under his fingers, but the warmth and flawlessness of Kurt's skin. The pictures though, helped on the lonely nights, when he would imagine the warmth of Kurt's body, remembering the feeling of being with him, of being in him. Some times it was three or four times. His only reasoning behind this was because he couldn't actually feel Kurt and there fore didn't know if his boy had felt what he had. He would project his thoughts, his feelings, in hopes that the connection between him and his beloved was strong enough that Kurt could feel him where ever he was.

Naturally Kurt would feel him. There was no doubt in his mind. The boy was too connected to the world; he saw things that no one else could see. Even in his cloths he could see the ghosts, shadows, emotions of the designers, could see the monster in Puck when no one else could. He could feel him, maybe not like Puck wanted him to, but oh he could most definitely feel him.

Puck had started to watch his movies. He would laugh almost hysterically at the comedy, Kurt talking in his high pitch voice about boobs and so forth. Puck would smile and giggle, recite the lines word for word, break for break, sentence for sentence. Then he would cry at the other movies, he had yet to see the Spielberg one and that was because he had yet to be released. Yet that would be better for Kurt naturally. Then everyone would go see his last piece of work, his last bit of heart and soul. Kurt could probably watch as his popularity soared even in to the realm that eternity was going to take them. Puck couldn't care about such trivial things. All he wanted was Kurt. There was a burning in him and the Monster felt it as well. There were nights they would cry together looking at the pictures or watching the movies. Puck was raging. He was crazy when he was in the institution. How could he have possibly gone this long with out Kurt? With that soft white skin, the soft delicate body that with little movements would entice everything that Puck loved about him, the laugh, the voice, and the eyes.

At work he would sometimes have to hide some where to cry, to wallow in his despair. He still pretended like he was Noah. Noah, that mild mannered pussy that James had turned him to, so that no one would become aware that he had returned to his true self. Though, small parts of him had shown through the cracks, the ones that he couldn't hide. He had started to talk to people where he worked, they had laughed at his jokes, smiled with him. The bitch of a shrink was damn near ecstatic with him. "Oh Noah you have come so far so quickly." The thoughts of killing her before he left made his dealing with her twice a week bearable. He wouldn't though. It was too much of a risk. It was incompetent things that had destroyed everything with Kurt that night and he wasn't going to do it again. Not ever.

There were of course other desires that Puck had to administer to now that the Monster had returned. Small little acts of violence against people, just like he did in high school, kept The Monster quite and happy. It was like becoming reacquainted with a long lost friend, laughing and giggling about the good ol' days. The people he worked with were catching the worst of it. Oh mind you Puck was being overly careful in his assaults and insults. Everyone had just figured that he wasn't tactful, that he was clumsy, but he knew better and did better.

These childish acts kept the Monster appeased for a while; until they could get to Kurt it would have to do.

Now of course there were certain parts of Noah that still existed in Puck, after all he was Noah, and Noah was him. He wanted to call James, to hear the beautiful man's voice again, even a small part of him wanted to return to the institution. Even though it had made him go crazy while he was in there, the fact that he remained crazy almost a year afterwards should have had some bearing on the decision. He missed the Limey Prick, he missed Aries. He knew that neither of them would approve of what he was going to do. As the thoughts ran through his head the Monster bellowed in protest, so loud was it that Puck's hands started to shake. He ignored it. He denied the monster that much control now, just as he had done before. The Monster wasn't part of him, it had just found its way in to his mind where they had grown accustom to one another. James would do his best to make the Monster leave again, but he didn't want that. Noah… Puck had been alone for too long, after never being alone since he was a small boy. The monster was always there to keep him company. To love him as only a best friend could.

Many a times the two of them would simply stare out the window. It seems that while the monster had been forced into hiding, or expelled from his brain it he found a way to become more powerful, making Puck more powerful. It had learned to talk as a matter of fact. It only spoke simple words mind you, but they were always relevant and profound when it did. While looking at the magazines it would simply shout as loud as it could KURT! This made Puck laugh at its small antics. He could see it more clearly now as well. It hadn't aged a day since he had last seen it. It didn't mirror Puck as he had originally thought, or it had but had learned to control it more effectively now. That's how Puck realized that it was a separate part of him. There were many things that Puck found interesting about this creature he was so fearful of and loved. It didn't have the scar, the beautiful flaw left by Kurt's misunderstanding, it didn't have its head shaved like Pucks, but it was still the Monster in ever sense of the word.

Yet, the best part about this new Monster, with its new found power was how it could manipulate dreams. It could take any dream and make it real to Puck. Puck had been with the monster almost every night, he didn't mind the fact that he had to change the sheets every day, in fact he had started to sleeping naked only so that he would stop having to wash his boxers every day.

It would bend to every fantasy that Puck had. He could feel bodies under him, or when it took on the form of James, in him. They were all such simple delights. Though more often then not the Monster would look like Kurt. It would stay quite as the dream ran it's course, as the dreams seemed to real, but yet so far from the real thing. Puck was as he was in school, a sex shark. He appeased the Monster with violence; the Monster appeased him with the beautiful dreams.

Puck was almost certain that his girl shrink, the evil bitch with the brown skirts, knew something was wrong with him. He had to forcefully control himself not to go on and on about Kurt's movies, or Kurt in general. He cursed himself for having to pause in the middle of one of his fake, despicable stories, to think of the right words, something Noah would say not himself. The shrink always made little notes when he did this. Watching her scribble down what ever she was writing made him what to drive the pen so far into her eye that the he would be able to draw little pictures on her brain. He thought about those pictures, he knew he wasn't an artiest, but the little stick figures of him and Kurt jumping over the small little cracks in her brain was a comforting thought. The Monster liked the idea too and laughed hysterically at the idea of drawing a penis in every single one of her childhood memories. Puck naturally had to fight back the laughter.

It didn't matter though. He had booked a one way flight to L.A which left one hour after there little help session. It seemed almost epic to him, he would be flying non stop, as fast as he could possible go to meet destiny once again. The plane, his horse, and he would be Kurt's Knight in shining armor. The way it was always meant to be, should be.

He had been following Kurt on the internet on the modern day version of Twitter. He would be going to some kind of gathering tonight, apparently was looking forward to it, but he knew Kurt, and if he wasn't the center of attention, a thought that Puck himself could not fathom, then he wouldn't stay long. Of course Puck was counting on that. Of course it didn't matter one way or the other. Puck was going to look everything over, find the darkest spot he could find hide and wait for him to leave. Kurt naturally couldn't see him that would ruin the surprise, yet some how he knew that Kurt would be aware of him. They had always been connected like that. They had always been in love like that. Kurt was going to come with him one way or the other.

As he slowly shut the door to his bitches office, he smiled, grabbed his back pack and left. In forty-eight hours… Eternity would be upon him again. There was no Finn to stop it, no James to bring Noah back, just him, Kurt and the Monster. Nothing could go wrong. Nothing at all.

Aries hated narrow stair ways, he knew that his size was a blessing from God, but all blessings have some kind of draw back. He just hopped the some old woman wasn't walking down as he was walking up, even with him turning side ways she would have had to brush past him, then she would trip and Aries would feel really bad.

This wasn't a social call, though he was looking forward to seeing how well Puckerman was doing on his own. He had labeled this an official visit, which took some doing, but James finally gave in. The reports that Noah's new doctor had sent to James bothered Aries a bit. He could tell the boy was depressed. A visit from an old friend might make things better; in fact he had brought over some old foot ball games for them to watch again. Just something to make him feel better, see the problem Aries had with the reports from the other Doc was that out of no where Puckerman had suddenly made a large number of friends, hanging out with them after work, chilling with them places out side, but when he went to the store no one could confirm that. They said he had opened up, but didn't hang out with them. Aries wanted to know why he was lying. Maybe it was to make her stop worrying about him, which would be so Noah like.

When he got to Noah's apartment there was an evection notice on the door. On top of that, the door was slightly open. Aries pushed it in, thinking maybe Noah was home. He wasn't.

Aries heart started pounding in his chest, sweat started breaking out on his upper lip, and his hands started shaking. Ever single inch of wall was covered with Kurt Hummel, some mixed with pictures of Noah, some had the words eternity written on them, others… others had both there eyes X'ed out. Yet the biggest one, the one that was in the middle of them all, had two pictures of Noah with Kurt. Aries didn't understand it, but all the pictures seemed to flow from that one spot, that one picture. He pulled out his cell phone.

"Doc we've got a serious problem."


	12. Chapter 12

_**I'll be truthfully honest; I'm running low on steam with this story. However thank you all for reviewing and those of you who've stuck with me through it, I will finish for you. I'm spicing this one up a bit. There will be major creepy goodness again thank you and enjoy. BETA still MIA. All mistakes are mine. Don't own glee or red hot chilli peppers... Beta having computer issues, all mistakes are mine. :-D**_

Chapter 12

Monsters

Oh the city of _El Pueblo de la Reina de Los Angeles_. There was a magical feeling to the city, despite the crime, filthy streets, and overly disturbing people who crowded her once beautiful, grand lanes. Beneath it all, through all its faults, Puck and the Monster could see the grandeur of what she should have been. This was where dreams were made, destroyed and then reborn. She had the prestige of New York, with out the flash, the history of Philadelphia with out the significance. Music, Art, fine foods, and beautiful people surrounded him. Let us not forget about the clothing stores, in which he was certain his dear sweet Kurt spent hours just simply touching the fabric, feeling the souls of the creators.

This city moved under his feet. People had become so use to it that they didn't feel it, but there were vibrations that could shake a man to his core. He would stop on his little quest as he walked from street to street. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time. It was an understanding that the city knew as well as he did. This vibration was hope.

He was certain the city was aware of his presents, of why he had come, and was guiding him like any true friend would do. He was never one for the Red Hot Chilly Peppers, but their song, written for the city was stuck in his head. He was singing the surprisingly beautiful yet haunting lyrics of a song written when he was simply a young boy. His guitar strapped to his back, along with bag. He passed for a standard young man looking to make it big. Oh, but they couldn't, wouldn't understand how deep his dreams truly went.

He had hours to kill before the little get together Kurt would be attending. He had time to explore around the grand hotel in which it was been held, he felt slightly out of place, just enough money he had for a one night stay. He had arrived in L.A. with just over a thousand dollars, which were more then enough for what he was hoping to accomplish.

He was of course amazed at this hotels luxury and decadence. From the beautiful white marble, golden hanging chandeliers, gold trimming, and posh employees seemed to add to atmosphere. Of course it was none other the very same hotel that _Pretty woman _was filmed in, one of Kurt's favorites. The people ran around the hotel like frantic demons waiting for the arrival of there Dark Lord. A truly silly notion that was, in Puck's mind.

He could hear the manager yelling at bellhops, receptionist and cooks, or chefs. It didn't really matter. Despite the granger of the hotel, he knew he couldn't stay there long, no, it was too illuminated for what he needed. The whole block it seemed was going to be covered in light. Though he found a dark corner (or it would be when the sun set) that he could pull himself into. No one could see him, but he would be able to see every one. He had no fear of any one accosting him in the night. The hotel was going to be to well covered, too protected by the police. As anxious as he and the Monster were to get to Kurt this was just their re-introduction to him. Let Kurt see them, just a glimpse. Let the love that he felt for Puck suddenly ignite, so that it might consume him. The idealistic thoughts of Kurt running and jumping in to his arms, gave Puck ample time to wait. In fact, he sat in that corner for hours, strumming on his guitar. He was lost in thought of the love of his life, the meaning of death, running to him and kissing him hungrily. Feeling Kurt's soft lips and strong arms wrapping around him would fill that wholly empty void in Puck's life. Kurt would do that. Maybe not that night, but he would do it soon.

As silly as it was, as stupid as it was, Puck had become lost in the music, the thoughts of the beautiful young man whom he had been dreaming of for the better part of a decade, had so clouded his thoughts that the only thing that pulled him from it was the sounds of change falling in to his guitar case, or the strange burning sensation coming from his now un callused finger tips.

What ever broke the beautiful thought he was having was nothing compared to the sheer shock of who stood before him. The Monster screamed in his head and began dancing in his mind like a small child on Christmas day.

"Hello Puck." The sound hit his ears as if an angel were singing to him. He had waited for this moment for he didn't know how long, he had found all the right words, but now he could think of nothing. He was suddenly lost in the Mediterranean eyes of his destiny.

Though something was wrong, something wasn't right. It was how well defined the face had become, how he looked more like a man now then a boy, it wasn't that he also seemed a few inches taller. Now his face, it was bruised, the eyes, those beautiful eyes were blackened. As Puck's initial shock wore off, as the realization that eternity was coming, that his beloved had been hurt, sent him back to reality quickly. Had Kurt not been standing before him, he would have panicked thinking that he had been gone in his own little world for days, would have sent him scurrying to people to see what day it was.

He laid the guitar on the ground and slowly stood. Kurt taking a few steps back from him. Like a dog would do when faced with a new person that it wasn't sure about. There was fear in those beautiful eyes.

"They told me you were released, that you're better."

"I'm the way I should be." Puck said. His voice was matching the beating of his heart as he spoke. To him it sounded like a demonic drum line, beating, thudding against his own ears and body. His voice seemed to echo.

"I don't believe you. You're lying to me again. You have to go back to James. You can't do this." Kurt spoke fundamentally. As if he was peering in to Puck's soul, searching deep. The boy was connected to him most defiantly, and in a most terrifying way. This was not the Kurt he remembered. The look, the voice was the same, but he was so different. This couldn't have been the boy he was in love with.

"I don't want to go back. I want to be with you forever."

"Puck you know that you can't be here. You know that it's wrong. Go back. Please."

The Monster felt it too. This wasn't Kurt. This wasn't, it couldn't be. He was too different. He was expecting changes but nothing like this. Not the strength that was not Kurt's own. It was like he was looking to the past of some one else. Almost a mirror reflection of Kurt, as if he were from a different time or universe. This wasn't Kurt. This couldn't be Kurt.

"I can't go back. I need to stay with you. You love me."

"No, I don't. I despise you Puck. I hate you! Leave go back to James!"

"No."

It was in this moment that Kurt scowled. His beautiful, lovely face contorted in to rage. Puck felt the sheering pain which came with the look. Like he had felt… like Noah had felt… Like they had felt when he was at the store. It started at the base of his neck like before. His eyes watered and he was certain that he was going to scream out in pain, but the Monster reacted this time. The Monster howled in pain, then began to fade into the distance. Becoming a quite roar, terrified as it seemed to dissipate in to the cold reassess of Puck's mind.

"Please Puck; go back to James, to Aries. They will help. They care about you, so much more then I ever will."

That dreadful pain, all consuming, burning, pain just continued to grow. Puck would have fallen to his knees like an angel in prayer had he not thought that Kurt would find it weak, that he would laugh at him. The pain as powerful and unforgiving as it was would not bring Puck to his knees. Not in front of Kurt who needed to believe that Puck was strong enough to protect him from whatever horrors may lay in eternity. His love was stronger then the pain and always would be.

"Go back to the institution Puck! Go back and tell them you're sick. They will help you!"

"I'm not sick! I love you!"

"You're a plague Puck! You're going to kill me! You're sick!"

The word Plague resonated in his mind. It resonated so much that the pain stopped growing.

"What did you say?"

"You're sick Puck." Kurt's eyes were now showing sympathy and compassion. They were not his eyes though. They were wrong. A joyful scream directed Puck's attention back to the hotel. This was so wrong, it wasn't like this. He saw Kurt getting out of a limo, the man from the magazines was with him. The delicate hands, the slightly stronger arms, the un mistakable elegance of Kurt was there. That was the boy he loved, that was the true Kurt. There was a sudden realization, which allowed the Monster, his ally to now be at the forefront of his brain. It was another demon apparently. Yet another test from the powers that be. How could they be so stupid as to think that he wouldn't know his true love, that he would do as it said and run back to that hell hole that for so long he though of as home. They were stupid. He knew better now. They almost had him, but he knew better.

"You're not Kurt. YOU"RE NOT KURT!"

The thing in front of him squared its shoulders and glared menacingly at Puck. Oh that was a challenge if Puck had ever seen one, but before he could react, before he could let the Monster take its control of his body and to destroy the thing in front of him it vanished, in a way that made the Monster jump back in fear, one that made Puck whimper.

The eyes sunk in to its face, the bright red cheeks turned grey, the color of a decomposing body, because that's what it was doing. It was a revelation, the finale act of what ever was trying to stop him. It was showing what Kurt would look like in his coffin, no doubt the most extravagant coffin, but none the less it struck fear to the very core of Puck. Then just as quickly as it delicate bones could be seen, the ragged cloths, the long un kept hair, it fell to ashes at his feet, and then they too disappeared.

He was shuttering, his whole body tingled as the unforgiving pain vanished from his body, the Monster seemed nearly exhausted as it could merely whisper Kurt's name. He was on his hands and knees now. The image of that beautiful face decomposing in front of him would not leave his mind no matter how hard he tried, but he knew he would never see that, he knew that it would happen, but that was just the shell of what Kurt was. What he truly was, the bright light of warmth, love and compassion was inside him. The true Kurt, the real Kurt would be more beautiful in eternity, which was the only thing that made Puck stand up. What ever the thing was had ruined the first sight of Kurt in 6 years, but it couldn't stop the second one. The one were Kurt would be able to see him, and that… That was worth waiting in the warm L.A. air for the party to end.


	13. Chapter 13

_**This chapter is from Kurt's point of view. This will be taking place the exact same time as the previous chapter. It will be short then we will get to the Purt. **_

Kurt was setting in the limo twisting his fingers in his hand; his "boyfriend" was setting on the opposite side of the limo in total silence. Kurt had just fired his publicist and lawyer.

Dr. James Bushfill, Puck's attending Doctor, had been trying to reach him for almost a day with the terrifying news that Puck was coming to L.A. to find him. Finally when he had given up with the repeated calls to the lawyer and to the publicist he turned to the one person who had Kurt's cell phone, Finn.

This was what nightmares were made of, his nightmares in particular. Above him the small spot light in the limo was shinning down on him, his hand tingling, where the lotion he had just placed on it worked to heal the dry cracked skin because he seemed to scrub that one more often then not. The one he had stabbed Puck with, the one that was covered in his blood. He house, constantly illuminated, his back door was more secure then the front and every room in his house had a purpose besides storing things.

Any time that he was in darkness his heart would start to race, his hands would shake and he would run to the light. He knew Puck was in Columbus. He was the only person he knew of that would call to check on Puck, not so much out of caring, but just to ensure that he hadn't escaped.

The large police style flash lights would make him nauseas and ever time he would see Finn, he would break down in to tears, if only for a brief moment. The handsome young boy that had saved his life so many years ago now had a permanent limp, a large ugly scar running down the side of his face. Yet the worst part of all, the thing that broke Kurt's heart more then anything, was that Finn was now impotent. The person whom he loved, whom he still, on some levels desired, had done that, and now it seemed was coming to finish what he had started.

There were a lot of things that Kurt wasn't sure of, like why he hadn't called the police instantly, or why he was still on his way to the party, or why he hadn't told his "boyfriend" William about it.

No, he knew why he didn't tell William. It was because of the bruises that covered his body from the night before, when and they got in to a mild argument over which restaurant they should order from.

Despite his good looks and all American boy personas, William's temper shattered everything that Kurt could have loved about him. They hadn't been "together" for a long while, but for some reason Kurt stayed with him. He had tried to fight him off a couple of times, but it was no use.

There were nights when he would have to call his friends to cover the bruises on his face. Sometimes he would be lying in bed wishing that he had let Puck take him into eternity. Then he would come around. Puck was no better, but no worse then William. At least that's what he kept telling himself.

At least Puck loved him in his own sadistic fucked up kind of way. Love was love however you wanted to look at it. He knew William didn't love him, but he knew that Puck did. That comforted him on some nights, when he would be waiting for William to come home after running around with his boy toys, drinking, doing drugs, all the things that Kurt avoided. They, together, were the first gay power couple of Hollywood. So he stayed with him through all the pain, violence, and torment. Kurt never thought it was really worth it. Had Puck not been so messed up, he could have been living a very different life, one where he would have been happy.

Yet, Puck had tried to kill him, not because he hated him, but because he wanted to spend forever with him and couldn't wait, but up until that point he had been the ideal boy friend. A shutter ran through Kurt at his thoughts of Puck. How could he be so miserable that he was rationalizing loving the man who had tried to kill him? How could he think like that about the murderous boy that his dreams turned nightmares were now made of.

William took notice of the shutter, one of Kurt's little quirks that on many occasions William had said he couldn't stand. When he looked over at Kurt, those cold, ugly eyes that everyone were so enthralled by, burned a hole through him.

"You seem a little distant tonight. It's like you're thinking of some one else." There was malice in his voice that would have made Kurt cry had it not become William's normal tone.

"I am." Kurt said as he looked out the window of the city passing by in a blur. He suddenly wanted to be back in Lima. He would be safe in Lima, only his friends and family would know where he was. Puck wouldn't look for him in Lima. William wouldn't go to Lima.

"Should I be jealous?" Kurt looked over at him and smirked.

"I wouldn't use the word jealous."

"Well then, what word would you use?" The sound of his irritation made Kurt smile a little more then he already was.

"…Destiny. You should be worried about Destiny."

William let fly a small chuckle of mocking.  
"Destiny… Like Karma… I will keep doing the things I do because there is no such thing as Fate. There is only life and what we make of it. Destiny… you're such a Faggot."

"Look Will just because I'm more successful then you doesn't mean you have to be a dick. Oh and don't bother coming home tonight… I'm expecting a guest."

You can only delay the inevitable, you can only slow Destiny down, but in the end, it will catch up to you, just like in the horror movies. No matter how fast you run, no matter how well you hide, the Monster always finds you.


	14. Chapter 14

_**I am terribly sorry for the long wait on this. I'm nearing the end though, and perhaps that is why I'm having such a hard time. I don't want to stop writing this. Please please review. It will help greatly. I hope I brought the creepy this time. Tell me if I need to amp it up. Thanks guys.**_

To Puck the seconds seemed like minutes and the minutes seemed like hours. He had hardly moved from his dark little corner watching as the party raged on. His head still throbbed with the encounter of the demon that had tried to stop him earlier in the night. The Monster had gone quite. He seemed more anxious then anything, afraid. Puck wasn't sure why. He _was_ confident, powerful, and holding it all together.

Of course he couldn't be concerned with the petty feelings of the monster that lived in his brain that made him love Kurt in ways that no one else could. They were to close to eternity now to turn back. They were to close go running back to Columbus and to home… the Institution. That hell hole of a place that made him forget about Kurt; which made him realize that he was stupid to think that he wanted to just murder Kurt. It was so much more then that. They would understand; they all would when it was said and done. It had been more then half a decade and he still couldn't be with out Kurt. The true romantics of the world would see what he had done here and write songs about it, poetry. All the arts crap that Kurt loved and adored would be about him… would be about them. The lovers that time couldn't stop, that the Gods couldn't stop. Had Puck been a song writer he would have been plunking out the songs of his love for Kurt. Instead he waited with this guitar strung over his shoulder.

There was of course going to be complications. That tall blonde, whom was in all the magazines with Kurt, was going to be an issue. Not so much because Kurt loved him, but because he thought that he loved Kurt more then Puck did. That wasn't possible.

Puck would of course kill him if he interfered with their trip to eternity. The only difference is that he will make sure he is dead unlike he did with Finn. Perhaps he should have sent the letters that were in his apartment before he left Columbus. Puck did of course care for his dear, tall, idiot friend. In looking back at it over the years at hom… the Looney bin, he had realized that Finn was just being Finn. The fact that he wanted him dead wasn't the point. He had gotten in the way of eternity. How many people in history have killed their best friend because of they got in the way of the greater good. They had tried to stop what was meant to happen. How he still loved and cared for Finn, but there were no regrets about beating him with the flash light. No regrets about trying to stomp the life out of him. Puck felt something run down his face. He reached up and felt the moisture that had left his eyes, a tear. He didn't remember feeling like he was about to cry. Puck didn't cry unless it was over Kurt. He was thinking about Finn. Why would he cry over Finn?

Naturally of course he scoffed at the idea he was shedding much needed tears over the boy. There must have been something in his eye. Perhaps, like he had done on many occasions, he had left his eyes open to long waiting for Kurt. He had done that with the magazines, it was possible that with the idea of Kurt being so close at hand that it he would do the same thing. His love for the delicate, famous young man could make him do crazy things. Of course biting at his fingernails was one of them.

Then in an instant his skin began to burn with a new intensity, a fire that had shaped him in to the man that he was now. The Monster attention was in full swing. Kurt had emerged from the hotel. Yet Puck found himself frowning. Kurt could barely walk, being held up by the handsome blond man that seemed to laugh and giggle with some one who was walking behind them. Kurt wasn't a drinker. He was always too composed to get drunk, yet there he was.

Kurt couldn't have changed so fundamentally that he would forget who he was, could he? No of course not. It was a simple mistake. He probably had order something that he wasn't use to, or even got caught up in a moment. Kurt was of course like that and if he wasn't thinking about how much he drank, well then naturally he could have over done it. Puck had been there many a times.

He tall blond man, whom Puck couldn't remember, or had chosen not to remember his name seemed a little forceful in his placing his Kurt in the back of the Limo, still focusing on the young man who had walked out with them of the hotel. The monster growled, and Puck grunted in agreement. No matter how much the tall blond man had had to drink there was no reason to be treating his Kurt like that, his beloved. Nor should he be so disrespectful of Kurt that he would flirt with another man. Puck couldn't fathom that idea. How could he not constantly have his attention drawn to the still child like God whom Puck worshiped? This man was not worthy of Kurt. Certainly Puck had let the idea of perhaps loving Kurt from a distance pass his mind should this tall blond man been worthy of him, even if just for a short time, but this was proof that he wasn't.

Puck watched as the tall blond man pushed Kurt's still comically large feet out of the way and he and the young man pilled into the limo.

Puck through his hand up in the air and a yellow cab pulled up right in front of him.

"I have two hundred dollars if you follow that Limo." With out hesitation the cabby nodded and Puck climbed in the back.

**Puck** stared intently from the back of the cab at the white limo that carried the key to his happiness in its posh, decedent interior. They had left the city, and while he had tried to keep bearings on where they were, he couldn't. His concern for Kurt was mounting. He couldn't possibly imagine the two men defiling the delicate body. However there were horrid creatures that would seek out innocence only to try to destroy it. Puck had meet them in the institution. They were strange people, disgusting.

If they did take advantage of Kurt, they would pay for it. Puck had a feeling eternity wouldn't be nearly as poetic to them as it was going to be to Kurt and himself.

Before he would have imagined the limo was pulling up in front of a large, beautiful home. Not a mansion or palace as he would have expected, though it could have been considered one. This was with out a doubt Kurt's home. Every thing about it screamed elegance and beauty. It was everything Kurt could have dreamed of. The large green lawn decorated with beautiful flowers, large trees, and a stone path that led to the home. The house its self was as if from a dream, with stone masonry, giving it the look of an 17th century English manor, with blooming vines that reached to the dark grey shingled roof. There was no doubt in Puck's mind that the inside would somewhat or some how resemble James's office. With deep dark wood floors, the house so sparsely decorated that it would echo with every step. White carpet would cover the bed master bed room with large king size bed with grey sheets of the finest thread. Puck couldn't even imagine the bathroom. Though he had no doubt that it would be filled with all of Kurt's creams, lotions, and beauty care products.

A pain in Puck's chest made him realize that he of course could never have provided such a home for Kurt. Yet he also realized that he was going to provide Kurt with so much more then he could ever receive his human body. The house, the cars, the money would mean nothing to him shortly. He would have Puck, and that was all he needed, that was all they both needed, each other.

The cab stopped nearly a block back, an indication to Puck that the cabby had done this little routine before. Puck handed over the money quick as he watched the two men pull the now nearly limp body of Kurt from the limo. They laughed a giggled with each other though the tall blond scooped Kurt up in his arms. A sight that made the Monster roar with unbridled jealousy. Puck felt the tears stinging his eyes as Kurt snuggled his neck in to the handsome mans neck. Which was one of Puck's favorite memories of Kurt, a memory that seemed to be becoming reality as the seconds ticked passed.

There were a lot of memories of Kurt, sensations, emotions, scars. Everything reminded him of his beloved, or inspired him to think about him. There were so many things that made Puck want to run and grab Kurt out of his arms and to hold him. He wanted to kiss his sweet delicate lips, to run his fingers through that soft, silken hair that on so many occasions he had done in and out of enacting their love for each other. The thought of another man doing that was infuriating.

They passed through the gate entrance and Puck's cab drove off with a speed that made him jump with fright. So this was his time to act. He feared the destiny was going to become impatient as it had waited this long, how much longer it could wait, he didn't know.

He slowly made his way over to the stone wall that separated the property from the neighbors. It was high, though not impossible to scale, as Puck did it with ease. Though, as he fell to the ground, his heart began to beat in his chest unbelievably fast, painfully fast.

Every inch of the ground was covered in some kind of light. The shadows that were cast were barely able to hide a cat let alone a man of Puck's stature. He couldn't even take to the trees, or along the wall that he just scaled, as lights illuminated the ground. The Monster coward back in to his mind, into the darkness. Puck's hands were shaking. To him, now, the beautiful home had become an almost impenetrable fortress. It had clearly been designed by Kurt. Only his eye for detail would have eliminated every shadow that Puck could have hid behind, every crack that could have led him to his beloved. Kurt had bathed himself in light, where Puck was his weakest, where the monster couldn't show his true face, where together they ruled.

The tall blond man and his "friend" exited the house laughing. Puck quickly moved behind the trunk of a tree. There a small light shined on him. He could be seen anywhere he went in the vast yard. Even so, the tree had provided him some cover, though how much he didn't know, but would soon find out.

"You're just going to leave him there by himself?" The younger man giggled his voice harsh and abrasive, "You did give him the drugs after all."

"Yeah, he'll wake up in the morning feeling like shit, but no harm done. He said he was going to have a visitor tonight. Now, I guess he won't. So, what was the trick you were talking about with that tongue of yours?"

Puck's legs began to shake in fury. The Monster was trying to force him to run, to cut the beating heart out of the tall mans chest, to feed it to his little friend. Puck wanted too to indulge the Monster; the anger that shuttered through his body like a thunderstorm had to be controlled at all cost. At all cost, for the moment that is.

Kurt was lying in there alone, drugged, unable to care for himself. He needed some one. Even if didn't know that Puck was going to be there watching out for him, caring for him like had done all those times before, he needed some one. The tall blond man was the cause of it, not worthy of Kurt, and Puck hated him with a new found passion. It wasn't simply on the principle of it anymore. He had defiled Kurt's purity in a way that was almost as deplorable as what he had been thinking about in the taxi.

The two exited the gate and laughed and giggled as they walked down the street. The limo apparently waiting to pick them up farther down, or perhaps they had a cab, or the other young man had a home near by. Puck didn't care. He needed to get to Kurt. With the two of them gone, and the sweet beautiful boy he had waited for so long to love again "asleep" some where had made the light not such a treacherous place any more. It wasn't comforting, or relaxing as most people would see it, but for once in his life Puck felt that he could move through the light freely with out fear of something seeing him and following him. This it seemed was the kind of feeling people, normal people, had in the light. Puck would have enjoyed it had he not been so worried about Kurt.

Puck even through all his rage felt badly for walking on the immaculately green grass. Not a single spot of yellow, not a single dead blade. The garden as he approached was full of perfect flowers, only some having minor imperfections in the pedals, but all alive and well. Even the garden at home… at the institution didn't seem so well maintained.

Also the closer he approached his loves home he noticed more details to it, perfect details, even as near as it was it still reminded him of a painting, with the bright pink, blue, purple flowers, and the over grown trees.

Even the large wooden door seemed to be in the perfect place with the small covered porch that would give just enough protection if it was raining. The house was a dream, a perfect home. Had he the money this is the home he would have bought for Kurt. It would have been perfect for them while they lived in this world.

The large wooden door opened easily, not even locked. The tall blonde mans lack of concern for Kurt utterly disturbing. There was only one simple excuse for it. The man was a total dick.

Puck hesitated before entering the home, as if some strange magical force field would keep him for entering, or that the house like the forgetting room would swallow him entirely whole. However he knew that fortune favored the bold. He mustered up his bravado and stepped into the home. He took in a deep breath of air. The house smelled like it was freshly clean. The foray, he was proud he remembered the word, of course he couldn't have forgotten, Kurt always talked of having a foray like this, echoed as his feet landed on the white, expensive tile.

A small chandelier hung over his head; even with out the light shinning through it, he was positive that it was a beautiful piece of work. The house seemed utterly beautiful and Puck was tempted to turn on the lights so that he might be able to see it in the beauty that Kurt had intended it to be seen in. Though, there were all ready small beacons of light in the few rooms he could see. No where was totally dark and Puck felt his heart break. Kurt was still afraid of him. Had the tall blond man been a better boy friend, had he not drugged Kurt then Puck would have never made it in. He smiled a bit. It was fate that had made it this way. Fate would make Kurt fall in love with him again, and then they would crash through the walls of eternity hand in hand together.

He let his eyes adjust to the darkness around him. The little small amount of light helped him more then Kurt had probably intended. Just to the left of the foray was the dinning room, or what Puck assumed was the dinning room. He could see the table, however knowing Kurt it was a formal dinning area. Then he looked to his right, in to the living room. His hear began to beat quickly as he saw the two large feet of his love. The Monster jumped up and screamed loudly in Puck's head "KURT!" They were both beyond joy, beyond bliss. This was what they had both been waiting for. He slowly stepped in to the room.

Kurt lay sprawled out on the floor, as if he were thrown there. His hair was a mess, and his cloths had become wrinkled in the short time since he had been placed on the floor.

He knelt down next to the sleeping boy. Even now his skin still seemed to glow in the darkness after all these years. His hair still shined his lips still full, and kissable. Still perfectly flawless, still a God and still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

All this time and he was only a few inches from the love of his life, the love of his life that he had left him a scar on his soul and his body. His hands trembled his eyes began to well up with tears, he reached out slowly, scared that should he touch him, should he feel the warmth of his body, the softness of his skin that he would vanish like the demon had done earlier that night, that he would disappear and Puck would awake back in Columbus, an old man playing checkers with his long lost lover.

Yet when his hand touched Kurt's when the warmth of the young mans skin began to absorb into his like blood soaks into cotton, when he didn't vanish in front of him, he laughed. The Monster danced with delight, screaming out Kurt's name. This wasn't the moment he had dreamed of naturally, but just to be able to touch the love of his life, his soul mate, was worth the time he had spent away from him.

The soft lady like hands suddenly became a fascination. He lifted Kurt's arm with both his hands still slightly bleeding from his time playing his guitar, and brushed the fingers across his face. He brought the delicate wrist to his nose and inhaled deeply. He kissed each one of Kurt's digits delicately. Blood be-damned.

"Oh baby. I've missed you so much. I know you missed me." He had placed Kurt's hand on his chest, and he held it there tightly. How had he lived? Kurt was the meaning of existence. How could he have let himself be taken away, how could he have failed that night, so long ago?

It would be easier now. Kurt was asleep, he couldn't fight, couldn't try to stop him. If they crossed in to eternity now it would be a surprise, a warm welcoming surprise to Kurt.

Puck now laid gently down by his love, placing his head on his chest and listening to the powerful heart beat. He pulled Kurt closer to him, his body reacting to the presence of his one true love. He had grown unbearably hard in his jeans.

The smell of Kurt sent waves of passion and euphoria through his body as he began to quiver. He pulled Kurt tighter to his body. The monster lost some where in his mind perhaps dancing wildly through the long lost memories and sensations. As his fantasized about making love to Kurt, of feeling the boy move under his body, moan in pleasure; drag his manicured finger nails painfully down Puck's back he realized how close he was to cuming. That part of his body wasn't even touching the god like boy and still he felt it passing over him like an explosion of heat and love. He began to shake, as he lightly bit down on Kurt's chest. If this wasn't true love, if this wasn't how it was meant to be, that just touching Kurt could do this to him, then perhaps he was crazy.

He let out a moan as he body tensed. How could it be so crazy to love some one so much that all you had to do was touch them and feel as if you had just had the best sex of your life? That's not crazy at all. That's they way true love is. Only death could seal that bond, he was now more resolute then ever on his plan. Kurt had he would die… together.


	15. Chapter 15

_**In this chapter it changes from Puck's point of view to Kurt's. I'm not sure how long I will keep it like that, but for the end it needs to be in Puck's POV. I'm so sorry for the long wait on this. **_

Chapter 15

Puck had carried Kurt up to his room; the beautifully decorated room was a decadent as Kurt was. Yet he cried while he was in the beautiful room. Not because of how close he was to his beloved Kurt. He had already done his share of crying over that, though he would never truly admit how happy he was to anyone but Kurt.

He was crying because he had undressed the beautiful God that had captured his heart. The smooth white skin was covered in bruises, and painful looking scratches. These marks of torture had caused the Monster to set quietly in shock. Even its rage was squelched by the site. The Monster had wanted to do horrible things to people, that Puck had agreed to do, but this… this was impossible for either of them to comprehend.

Kurt was truly too beautiful to be mistreated in such a way. Even the cruelty of the school was nothing compared to this. Some of the bruises were old, turning slightly yellow as they healed, yet next to them set fresh bruises, deep purples and blues.

The tall man had done this; he was the only one who could have. Puck had followed the news about Kurt every chance he could, and no where did it mention him being injured. Puck let out a slight slob as he looked at the massive bruise on the knee of the most cherished person. He hadn't limped; he hadn't shown any sign that he was being abused.

Puck's hand shook as he lightly traced the discolored skin. Kurt let out of soft moan on one of the more painful looking ones and Puck's hands shot to his mouth to cover his sobs.

"This is my fault." Puck said to Kurt who, still drugged, didn't respond.

Puck crawled on to the bed gently and laid next to Kurt. He very gently moved his arm around the boy and pulled him closer. The smell of Kurt's hair filled his nose and he closed his eyes.

"I promise," Puck said in a soft whisper, "he won't ever hurt you again. Not ever."

Puck rose from the bed and explored the house, shifting through the drawers, finding match books from a hotel, downloaded music on Kurt's computer, where the pain in the back of his head struck him again, but when he came too, everything was has it had been. There were no demons, no visions. His first instinct was to call James. He longed to hear the accent and the confident tone in his voice, but that wouldn't work. He would have figured out where Puck was and stopped him. He did smile at the thought of the institution for a brief second before the monster screamed in his head.

He grabbed his jacket. He went to Kurt's room and gently placed a love filled kiss on Kurt's for head. He left the house, to a hotel in Beverly Hills, to the Tall Man.

6 hours later

The sun burned his eyes, his head pounded as his mind grasped at consciousness. He hated when William did things like drug him, beat him, try to seduce him when William was too lazy to go out and find it some where else.

Kurt rolled over with his eyes still shut, still half asleep. He rolled to the other side of the empty bed, as he sprawled out allowing his bruised and sore body to stretch. He smelled cologne, which in his state of mind was pleasant and warm. He smiled and buried his head in the pillow just a little more. The smell of the cologne awakened his mind a bit, and he began to think.

William had never put in him the bed when he had drugged him, he would find himself waking up in random rooms on the first floor, where ever William had dropped him. He had never undressed him either. Then there was the cologne. William wouldn't wear something that cheap, and it was the kind that Puck always wore in the day. It was masculine and strong, overpowering when he first put it on. But as the day progressed it would diminishes. It would become pleasant. Something he enjoyed when he would rest his head on the hard chest and feel the arms wrapped around him. What ever had happened before that, what ever Puck had done, those were some of his fondest memories. When Puck would lie next to him and hold him close. They would talk for hours about Glee, cloths, music, even video games. Or they would lay there and fall asleep in each others arms. He knew what that love was; he understood that love. And when he would wake up and find Puck had left some time in the night he would still be able to smell the cologne on the pillows and in the blankets. It would always make him smile.

Kurt froze at the realization that Puck had been laying in his bed. His heart pounded in his chest and he would have cried out but he was paralyzed with fear. He clutched to the comforter of his bed so tightly that his knuckles turned white and his muscles began to twitch because of the force they were exuding. The fear was beyond his control, he had waited for this moment. That one day Puck would come after him. He tried to prepare himself, protect himself the best he could, but now he lay motionless. The thoughts of being a coward, pansy, or worse didn't enter his head. The natural instinct was not to move. If he moved Puck would find him, he had to stay still, not to move to let Puck think that he was still asleep. He took a deep breath in hopes that it still looked like he was asleep. He forced himself to release the comforter from the death grip he had on it. He knew logically that should Puck try to pull him off the bed, the comforter would offer very little help on keeping him in place. Perhaps it was a child hood thing blankets were warm and protected you from the world that was frightening. Maybe that was why he held on it. That would make since.

The door bell to the house rang. Kurt still hadn't moved, still afraid that Puck would be standing beside the bed watching him, holding some kind of weapon or just waiting to wrap those hands around his throat again.

The door bell rang again and this time followed by an urgent pounding at the door. The person behind the door yelled LAPD. Kurt lifted his head up. Slowly and looked around the room. Puck was no where to be seen but he could smell him. It seemed like his smell was every where.

Once again there was pounding at the door. It was urgent now, scary urgent and Kurt knew that even if Puck were in the house, if he tried to stop him, the screams would be heard and he would be rescued before anything else could happen to him.

He jumped from the bed, grabbed his robe and ran down the stairs. He wanted to scream help, but that would be stupid. He was freaking out yes, but Puck… he knew Puck and if Puck were in the house he would have been in the bed waiting for him to wake up.

He threw open the door adjusting his eyes slightly to the morning light that was now pouring through the front door. In the door way of his home stood three police officers, just your average run of the mill cops and a regal looking man in a tweed suit, whom Kurt recognized but couldn't place where he had seen the man before, nor could he put a name to the face.

"Mr. Hummel may we come in." One of the officers said as he looked slightly around the entrance to the house.

"Yes, yes of course," Kurt said as he stepped to the side and let the four of them walk in. There was really no introduction, there were no happy faces. They must have known that Puck had been here that's why they came in force.

"Mr. Hummel, would you please set down."

Kurt nodded quickly as he walked them in to the living room and he sat on the edge of the couch, the bright California sun crashing through the windows was warm and some what welcoming. He was certain that the air condition would kick on at some point.

"My name is officer Marsters. I'm afraid that… I'm afraid that William Happer, Mr. Hummel I'm sorry but William Happer was found in his hotel room today dead."

Kurt looked up at the officer in shock. His heart pounded in his chest, his body shaking slightly, though not from shock or sadness. This was from jubilation. William was dead. Yet, the question was how.

"What… what… how did he?" Kurt asked and stuttered as the cops seemed to look down on him with sympathy that Kurt didn't want, nor need.

"A drug overdose. The hotel staff said that he arrived there with a young man some time after midnight, and then a second one around one just before the bar closed. Do you know who they could be?"

Kurt scoffed a bit before he looked down at his finger nails. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he spoke. There was now a flood of emotions that was rushing around in side his body. None of it was sorrow, but there was some form a grief. The cops would see it as sadness and that was fine.

"I doubt Will even knew who they were. Name's weren't really important to him." Kurt said sweetly though trying to get his point across.

"You were aware that he was…"

"Fucking around on me? Yes, Officer Marster I was very well aware of it. William made sure to point it out every time he screwed some little boy who was better looking than me. Can I get you some coffee?"

The shocked look on the Officers face almost made Kurt smile, but he fought it back.

"No, thank you." The Officers all pretty much said in unison.

"A spot of tea would be lovely."

Kurt looked over at the man in the tweed suit. It was the first time he had spoke and his heart began to beat even quicker. The voice and accent gave away who he was more then anything else. Kurt felt himself starting to sweat he was so close to panicking now. He was even closer to breaking down and confessing that Puck had been in the house and was probably close by. Still, he didn't. He didn't want to do that with the cops there.

"Is there anything else I can do for you officers?"

"Yes, we've managed to keep this under wraps for now. The hotel staff won't be leaking anything. I don't know how long we can keep it that way though, so if there is some where you would like to go to collect your thoughts before the media finds out than I strongly suggest you leave with in the next couple of hours."

Kurt nodded and stood as the officers and Dr. Bushfill started to walk to the door. Kurt put his hand up to the doctor to insist that he stay. When the door shut he stood in the entry way of the living room and pulled his robe closer around his body.

"I'm terribly sorry for your loss Mr. Hummel." James said, his accent sending a cold shiver down Kurt's back.  
"It was no loss. Have you found him yet? Is he here?"

"We don't know. I was hoping you would be able to tell me."

Kurt froze for a moment then went and set on the edge of the couch.

"He was in the house last night. He was in my bed with me…"

"You didn't… Sleep with him did you? If you did that would be catastrophic!" The anger building in the doctors voice was intense enough to make Kurt realize how he had managed to keep Puck under control. The thought of sleeping with Puck again wasn't a bad thought. It was terrifying and unthinkable yes, but bad no.

As the years had went on and Kurt found himself in relationships, he realized that Puck loved him the most of all. It wasn't until he was with William that he longed for Puck to return. At least his heart did. His brain told him he was an idiot.

"No, No, I was… I was… William drugged me. Puck must have followed us and then when William left he found his way into the house. He took care of me, made sure I was safe, but the fact…" Kurt swallowed down the tears that were building from having the love of his life in his bed, which was also his worst nightmare hit him.

Dr. Bushfill sat quite for a moment, before he spoke again.

"We have to find him, but he won't stop until he finds you. I don't mean to sound presumptuous, but you have the means to make that very difficult for him. You could run, and keep running until we find him. Then you can go back to your normal life."

Kurt looked at the Dr. slightly aghast at what he had just said.

"You haven't told the police?"

"Of course I have, but this is a very large city Mr. Hummel. Trying to find one man whom we both know can blend into the shadows and is intelligent, and determined as Noah is… They don't have the man power for it. As horrible as this is to say, and I do apologize, your lovers death could very well be the cover you need to get away."

"It's not horrible to say." Kurt said as he stood and pulled the robe quickly shut again. "William was more of a monster then Puck ever was. As misguided as Puck's thinking was, he did it because he loved me. William hated me and I have the bruises to prove it. Don't apologize for his death, celebrate it. I have to pack. Good bye Doctor."


End file.
