AN: Well, HERE IT IS! This is the story that I've been working on since...God, somewhere around Christmas time:P

After shifting through the Glee/Supernatural crossovers and finding disappointment, I went and started my own, and now that it's FINALLY finished, I'm posting my baby for all to see (oh wow this is a superduper excellent moment and I just need to stop and take it all in whew okaaay).

I'm disregarding things from both shows to do this, so don't get too upset if you find holes in comparison to actual plots:P

If you're reading this, then I love you. alkdjfl;akj'lakdsjklje

Both Klaine and Destiel will probably find you along the way, though I can't really make any definite promises;)

Warnings: Violence and BoyLove

Safe With Me

Prologue

Kurt watches Puck struggle for a good three minutes before he finally just rolls his eyes and reaches over to unbuckle the other boy's seatbelt. When all he gets is a glare in return, he shrugs and says, "It'll be easier that way." Puck just sighs and continues to tie his shoelaces.

"This better not take long," he grumbles, stretching his legs to get used to the feel of his new sneakers. "I've got a pool to clean and a cougar to tame." He winks suggestively before patting his jacket's inner pocket and hopping from the passenger seat.

"Oh g- You're disgusting!" Kurt smooths over a bump in his hair before reaching down to trace his fingers over the object tucked carefully into his sock – just to make sure that it's still there. Opening the door, he takes a few seconds to examine his surroundings before slamming it shut and walking over to meet his companion. "You really need to quit that job."

Puck scoffs. "Sorry, dude, but not everyone has enough money to buy clothes with other people's names on it. I gotta rake in the dead bugs if I wanna rake in the cash." He rubs the pads of his fingers together as they start walking towards the abandoned supermarket, their steps accidentally in sync.

"Who even has their pool open this time of year? It's the middle of winter!"

"It doesn't make sense to me either, dude, but the money's good and the chick's hot. You won't find me complaining."

Kurt gags a little. "Seriously, Noah, di-sgu-sting."

"Coming from the kid who's still a virgin! You don't even know what you're missing!"

"Right, right, I'm missing out on so much!" He elbows his friend in the ribs and skirts out of the way before the action can be returned. "Sorry I plan on waiting until it means something."

"Oh, trust me, it always means something."

"Ugh, we are not having this conversation right now."

"Fine, but we're having it later."

Kurt narrows his eyes. "Shut up and grab your gun."

He watches as Puck reaches into his jacket and pulls out a weapon that's been polished to perfection, looking so brand-new that Kurt would almost believe it was if he hadn't seen the same exact one a hundred times. "Ready to kill some witches?"

Kurt grabs the knife from his sock, nodding confidently.

"Let's get this shit done."

When they push the doors open, Puck in the lead because he has the gun, they're met by a group of women standing behind a fire. Lying before the flashes of red, orange and blue is the body of what looks to be a teenage boy, not much younger than the two of them.

Puck starts shooting immediately, hitting two of the women but missing the other three. Kurt uses this as a distraction, running to the boy and feeling for a pulse, only to be met with disappointment.

Standing up, he rushes towards the nearest witch, a woman probably in her mid-twenties with hair as red as the flames flickering in the whites of her eyes. She hisses when his knife stabs through her shoulder, but she doesn't fight back.

Confused by this, he cocks his head a little to the side. "They're weak!" he shouts at Puck. "Low-magic! Whatever they were trying to do here must have failed…"

He yanks the blade from the witch's shoulder and kicks her down, swinging his foot against her knee. She falls with a soft gasp but seems to have given up the fight, watching through glassy eyes as he turns to help Puck.

The remaining two witches are standing only a few feet in front of the other boy, smiling as they intertwine their fingers. Kurt takes a fighting stance beside his partner, ready stab at whoever starts muttering a spell first.

"What were you guys doing here?" Puck asks. "Why'd you kill the kid?"

"No one will miss him," one of them replies. "He's from a very, very far away place. Nobody around here will know." Her voice is smooth and warm, like tea and honey, and Kurt can't help but to think of how easily that poor boy must have been lured into their trap.

"Except for us," he growls. "Except for his parents."

The other one chuckles. "They didn't love him, you ignorant little bastard." Red lips pulled back into a glossy smile, and Kurt's practically seeing through the kid's eyes. "My sister and I will dispose of his body, anyway. Properly, too, so that no one will ever find him."

"What were you doing here?" Puck repeats.

"We were taking a sacrifice, but you interrupted."

"It doesn't matter," her 'sister' snarls. "Just tell them."

"Tell us what?"

They smile. "About the prophecy."

"What prophecy?" Kurt asks.

"The one about you."

"Me?"

Puck shakes his head. "Kurt, don't listen to them!"

"Oh, but you must," one of them whispers. "We've all heard the prophecy. Our brothers and sisters speak often of what's coming."

"It affects you, as well, Noah Puckerman," the other says.

The witches giggle when Kurt and Puck exchange a nervous glance. Kurt bites down hard on his bottom lip, trying to think smart about this. "Never trust witches. That's what my dad always tells me." He looks back at the witch whose life he took so easily. "Especially not the low-magic ones. Tricksters and what-not."

"You think we're weak," one muses.

"Curious," adds the other.

"Don't you still want to hear the prophecy, though? It really is a good one."

"Oh, I'll think we'll tell them, anyway."

"Just listen."

Kurt tightens his grip on his knife and straightens up into a slightly more comfortable position. Puck bounces impatiently on the balls of his feet.

"Two Great Hunters…"

"The ones with the blood of Winchester…"

"Are to come to your door…"

"Meant to prepare you for the inevitable…"

"For your death, Kurt Hummel…"

"Because of a boy so cruelly brought into this world…"

"By the hands of a monster with the worst of intentions…"

"And when the end is near…"

"Or when it has fallen upon you all…"

"An angel of the Lord will come from a faraway place…"

"And he will be the light at the end."

There is a solid beat of silence in which no one moves. Both sides seem to be waiting, muscles flexed and toes wriggling, for someone to say or do something.

When Puck pulls the trigger, Kurt lunges for the shorter woman. The knife goes easily through her chest, tearing through flesh and tissue until he's sure that it punctures her heart, and it's never his favorite part, but knives were always easier for him to use compared to the guns that Puck so valiantly displays.

She wraps long fingers around the base of the blade and smiles almost knowingly, unnervingly. "How funny. You don't look like a hunter."

His eyes go wide with shock before narrowing in anger. The knife sinks deeper and he pulls back sharply. Drops of blood splatter across his chest and neck as the witch falls backwards, fingers curling around nothing but air as her life pools around her.

By now, he's used to death, even the blood.

He wipes at what he can before turning to face Puck.

"Dude, that was pretty bad ass."

Despite himself, Kurt throws his head back in laughter. "Yah, well, I'm getting just a little sick of all the bad guys telling me I don't look the part. Being gay doesn't make me any less of a hunter."

"Like they even know what they're talking about."

For a moment, they just stand there. The fire behind them, although dying, warms their backs as they survey the damage. Standing side-by-side, they know they must make quite a sight. The strong, well-muscled football player and the tiny, not-so-well-muscled glee kid. Fighting monsters.

When they think about it, it almost seems unreal.

Suddenly, Puck snorts. "The god damned Winchesters."

"Like my dad said, you can't trust witches."

"True that. Crazies were probably just trying to live long enough to work some voodoo or something."

"Wouldn't put it past them. I mean, an Angel of the Lord? This is Ohio."

Puck sighs and shakes his head, turning for the exit while running a hand over his face. "I'll get the shovels."