Author's Note: So, hello there. *Waves* This is my first Glee fanfiction ever. I've written mostly for The Mortal Instruments fandom, but I've had the terrible urge to write Klaine fanfiction that it looks like I'll be writing more of it in the future. I would love comments and constructive criticism is always appreciated, especially because I don't have a beta and I can be lazy with going through my chapters. I like to get them out as soon as possible.

I'm also working on another fic and I'm a liar when it comes to when I'm updating. If you want to know why I'm procrastinating or haven't updated follow me on twitter or tumblr (both can be found at my profile).

I hope you enjoy.

Lots Of Love

Chapter One

It was quiet inside the shop, outside there was still the movement and sounds of the city's heartbeat. Kurt was closing up, it was later than he usually liked to leave, but he wanted to spend more time on a song he was preparing to teach in a small theater. It was something that he enjoyed doing. He did not mind the small theaters he volunteered for, it was harmless but it allowed him to dabble in the art that he enjoyed most. The small plays and musicals he would help create brought a happiness he had not felt while he was as home.

On his way from the back room he saw a dark figure in the corner of his eyes, just in his peripheral vision, his body spun instinctively to face the shadow that wasn't there before. It was leaning against the counter, flipping through a sports magazine, not looking up when Kurt faced him.

"You're getting sloppy if you didn't realize I was here the whole time," a monotone voice came from the shadowed figure, Kurt's body relaxed slightly, if not stiffly at the familiar voice, devoid of emotion, a voice he hadn't heard in a long time, "That's a mistake that could get you killed."

He rolled his eyes, "I don't really need to have reflexes that exact now. I live with everyone else; the most I have to worry about is some common criminal."

"You look different," another blunt statement, "I've never seen you wear clothes like that."

Kurt sighed, "That's because I was never allowed to, remember Finn? Fashion wasn't really allowed to be of any significance. Actually, nothing I ever liked was permitted," he kept his laced with ice.

Finn didn't really know how to reply to that, so he just settled with a shrug. He took a deep intake of breath, whether it was because he was frustrated or disgruntled, Kurt couldn't tell.

"You could come back, you know."

Kurt sighed, he was tired of this, and walked over to grab his stuff near the counter, throwing on his coat, "But I don't want to, I don't feel like trying to earn their acceptance, nor do I care very much to, either. Besides, I like it here, as much as I might miss you some of the times; I prefer this much more than what I did when I was with dad and Carole."

"What is this anyway? You live in a ruddy apartment, and work in a fuckin' music store, all in this fucked up city. I don't see how that's better than being with us, with the people you're supposed to stay with; it's called loyalty. You used to be a part of something bigger. You were saving lives."

"Was I? I hated all of that Finn. I hated the endless hours of training, of being told that I needed to get better, that I wasn't good enough. It was worse when I was told that I could be a great hunter, when all they did was push me further and further into the ground. I felt like I was being buried six feet under while I was still alive. That's not how I wanted to live my life, so I left. My own mother died because of what she was a part of. She hated it just as much as I do now."

Finn flinched at the mention of Kurt's mother, "You know that if it wasn't for the training, you would be buried in the ground, maybe even one of those walking undead."

"That's another thing. Not every one of those people we killed was doing something wrong. If it was only the ones that killed people, I could have understood, but sometimes they were just trying to live out their existence, we didn't need to kill them. So no, I don't feel the need, or the want to be back there, at that mansion, with those people. I don't need all of that Finn; I like this. Just being able to wake up in the morning and go to work, meet new people, make friends, and be able to go wherever I want to," he stopped, taking a deep breath, letting himself smile before continuing on, "And I can sing, something I was disciplined for doing because it was a impractical talent that I shouldn't have been concerned with."

Finn's face showed a hint of emotion, something he rarely did. It gave the enemy an advantage over you, something Kurt never learned to do, his eyes always gave him away. But Kurt had mentioned his singing, the secret passion he always treasured. When Finn became his brother, not long after his mother passed away, and was having a hard time, Kurt would sing to him, whatever he asked; his eyes alight with curiosity and wonder. But that was the past and this is now, and it still stayed with him, as much as Finn would rather Kurt ignored it, he couldn't. It was the one thing he never told his parents about, music was always something that made Kurt happy, and he didn't want to take that away, not even now.

"I just...I worry sometimes, you know that, and do you even remember how you started out? Trying to have a normal life? You got weak-minded real fast, and you know what happened because of that," Finn said a bitter taste in the air.

"It was one mistake, one bad choice."

"That lead into you getting hurt, even worse was that you let yourself get hurt, by someone you thought loved you."

"I guess that's my flaw then, loving people that can't love me back the way I need or want them to," Kurt was abhorring this visit more and more, he resented the fact that they couldn't just talk like they used to, not without bringing up past regrets and old wounds that faded into scars almost hidden away, but never fully forgotten.

"That's not what I meant."

Kurt sighed. "Is that all you came for? This wasn't the friendly visit I had been hoping for?" Kurt asked attempting to keep away the hope that Finn didn't just come to try and bring him back home, maybe there was something more he wanted to talk about, anything other than where the conversation was headed only moments ago. He couldn't go see Finn himself, being banned from their parent's home, but that didn't mean Finn couldn't come to see him, it only meant that it was Finn's choice whether or not to see him.

It pained him sometimes, when he thought about it too much, to know that he and his brother were so far away from each other, not just geographically, but emotionally now as well. They had always been so close when they were young. He never even thought about him as much of a step-brother, he'd just always been his brother, and it hurt him more because of it.

Things change.

Finn looked away, "I just want you to come home. I miss seeing you sometimes, Rachel and Mercedes miss seeing you, even the guys keep asking where you went, and I don't want to see you hurt out here."

"Either way I get hurt. Except here, I get to choose how I'm hurt, but you know where to find me, Rachel and Mercedes too," his voice was sad, miles away from reality, "I'm always around."

Finn nodded, moving away from the counter, through the front door this time, he hesitated, a brief second passed before he flitted out of the door and into the night, not looking back at the disappointment that graced his brother's face, he didn't want any reason to stay any longer than he already had. As cruel as it was, he couldn't afford any more lost time.

Kurt sighed, he figured that he wasn't going to stay, but he had gotten his hopes up, a mistake on his part.

It hurt his heart; this was the first time in almost six months that he had seen Finn, and each time it felt like wasted time. This wasn't the first time Finn had tried to get him to go back to his old life. The first time he came to see Kurt he tried, but it was half-hearted, like he expected it to be so easy to persuade him to go back home, that had been four years ago, right after Kurt left. It was the day after his eighteenth birthday, and he had treated himself to freedom.

The times before this, when Finn would show up, usually at the dead of night, he would tell Kurt what he was missing back home with their parents, he would hesitantly ask Kurt how his life was going. Kurt knew Finn hoped that Kurt would say how much he hated his life and that it was all a mistake. Tonight he was more persistent than usual, more emotionally withdrawn, but it was only a matter of time, each visit began to become fewer and far between, always less comforting and brotherly than the last.

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Two pairs of glowing silver eyes watch as the young man walks out of the shop, not long after the hunter departed, taking off to the upper part of town. He didn't seem like he could have come from a hunter's family, but looks were deceiving. His skin gave off a pale glow, emanating from the night, and he looked like he could be an easy target for he didn't give off a tall and empowering aura around him, like most of his kind gave off, something that told vampires to stay clear, that it wouldn't be smart to mess with them, no, instead he seemed to be inviting them to have a taste.

A little lost lamb out for the wolves to come out of their skin and play in the dead of night.

"Are you sure he's the one they're after," he asked, his voice deep and questioning, "It seems unlikely that the one they need would be one of them."

His friend beside him nodded, "He's the one they seem to have their eyes set on, and remember, he isn't one of them anymore, and he fits."

"How can you be sure?" The first man demanded, eyes flashing, "We have to be positive, I don't see some ex-hunter being the pure and red-stained soul they need, and I highly doubt his blood is what they need, I don't hear any siren songs beckoning me to drink his blood."

"Listen, will you? I know you can hear it, just listen to his heartbeat, the blood flowing through his veins. It's unnatural, the way it seems to dance in your ears. No human should sound like that, and no being should have that melody coming from their life source. It leads predators in."

Wes took a breath, calming himself, "And we have to make our move before the most dangerous of our kind, of the predators, go to take the prey first," he took a breath, trying to explain it all, "Look at him, he even looks like the personification of his own blood, that's not right, especially of someone born with hunter blood, it's a complete anomaly that even they failed to realize," he took another deep breath from his rant, regaining his former composure, "The thing is we need him on our side. Without him they can't succeed."

"I still don't like it. This is insanity, especially if you plan to let him live. Why not end his life and get it over with?"

"Because of the cycle, Blaine," he said, this time calmly and without any sound of desperation, "When he dies there will be another one born with the same allure. It could be a year from his death, or it could be hundreds. The only way is to turn him. This is our last chance, and I personally don't feel like watching the world burn up in flames and turn to ash because we can't control ourselves and learn some patience," he paused, "Besides, the fact that his family is one of the greatest hunters in the world will be of use to us. He could lead us to some of the objects. Those are just as important as the blood itself. Those objects need to be kept safe for the rest of eternity, before they can be used for anything else."

Blaine nodded, jaw set, "Then when do we start this then? If they are so bent on getting to this kid then why are we sitting here watching him instead of doing something productive?"

"You're too wired for your own good," he mumbled, " Soon, we just need the right moment, something that will make us look good, and it'll be soon, I can feel it."