Title: To Fix You
Author: Koinaka
Rating: PG13
Pairing(s)/Character(s):Kurt, Blaine, Aunt Mildred, Jacob, the werewolves, the Cullens, Bella, basically the whole Twilight gang
Genre: Supernatural!Crossover, AU, drama, romance, supernatural
Spoilers: up to Silly Love Songs for Glee, set during New Moon for Twilight
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Ryan Murphy and Stephenie Meyer.
Summary: When his father unexpectedly dies, Kurt is forced to move to Forks to live with the aunt he never knew he had. Once there, he finds himself thrown into the world of magic and monsters.
Warning(s): slash, character death (obvious from the summary)
Word Count: Around 3000 words for this part.
Previous Parts:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

This isn't quite as long as I'd hoped, but it felt right to end it here. Now, I feel like I should clarify something. The events will occur here as they've occurred in New Moon with the exception that some will change because of the addition of Kurt-mostly because of the imprint. I won't be covering a lot of things, though, especially things involving Bella, because Kurt is not involved. Assume that the cliff-diving (Bella's that is) did happen this chapter. I do plan on her and Kurt meeting, but probably not until the next chapter. I wanted to go ahead and post this because I have 2 papers due by the 7th, so I can't guarantee another speedy update!



By the time Kurt climbed into the tree house, his breathing and heartbeat had both returned to normal. He found his cell phone abandoned in the corner of the tree house where he had been sitting the night before. Clutching the phone as if it was his lifeline, Kurt sank back down onto the floor. It felt strange to be in the tree house alone, without Quil taking up all of the room and keeping away the chill that was bone-deep. He pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. He used to sit like this, curled up underneath his mother's dressing table, after she passed away. Thinking about his mother led to thoughts of his father. He couldn't believe that a month ago his life had been normal.

And now it was…what?

He was so confused.

Why had he listened to Jacob?

It wasn't like there was anything dangerous in the woods, right? Besides wild animals and except for the lone sighting of the wolves he'd experienced, he hadn't seen another animal in the woods at all.

So he didn't think there was anything dangerous out there, but Jacob had seemed so frightened. Not just frightened, but frightened for Kurt which made even less sense. Jacob's fear was the main reason that Kurt had listened to him in the first place. As the howling of the wolves faded and then disappeared completely, and Kurt became calmer, he was left with only questions.

Why had Jacob been shaking? Something had been going on, that much he knew, but what?

He wasn't sure, but he did feel fairly certain that it was all connected with the wolves. He wasn't sure how he knew only that he did know.

Which brought Kurt's attention to his next question: why had Jacob been following him?

He didn't understand what was going on. His aunt had been acting decidedly weird last night, and he couldn't stop thinking about the way that Billy Black had stared at him nor the way the others had stared at him—stared at him as if they knew something he didn't know. That was the main reason he had escaped into his bedroom as soon as he was politely able to do so.

The minutes passed by slowly, and it didn't take long for Kurt to begin to feel antsy.

He wanted to talk to Quil—needed to talk to him. It was almost ridiculous how close they had become in the short amount of time they had known one another. Kurt felt closer to him than he had ever felt to his other friends—even Blaine. There was nothing romantic about it. It was almost brotherly. He couldn't describe it, but it just felt right. Kurt only felt any semblance of normalcy when he was with Quil, otherwise he felt cold, like he was made of ice, like he was full of ice.

He dialed Quil's number half a dozen times only to stop himself before the call connected.

What would he say if he did manage to call him? He wasn't sure. None of it made any sense.

He only knew that he really wanted Quil there with him. He felt sure that Quil could make sense of everything, and even if he couldn't Kurt wanted him there. Wanted to tell him everything he had been keeping—wanted to tell him about his dad and about Karofsky and Blaine.

He dialed Quil's number one last time, finally allowing the call to connect. It rang several times before a sleepy Quil answered.

"Quil," he breathed out.

"Kurt?" Quil's voice was slow and thick with sleep. "W-What time's it?" he asked around a yawn.

"I'm at the tree house," he replied instead, his voice hitching slightly. "I'm—can you come?"

There was a pause. When Quil spoke again, he sounded much more awake. "I'm on my way."

Kurt kept the phone pressed to his ear even after the click sounded indicating the call had ended. Knowing that Quil would be there soon made him feel much better.

He remained curled up until he heard footsteps on the ladder. A moment later, Quil appeared at the door. He looked rumpled and out of breath.

"You're okay," he said when he had caught his breath. "Jesus, Kurt, you scared the crap outta me. What happened?"

"I left my phone here last night. I…My dad….you know he died," Kurt closed his eyes and took in a shaky breath. "I have pictures of him….and a voice mail saved…I had to come back and get it."

Quil kneeled down next to him. "Hey, it's okay."

Kurt nodded and blinked rapidly at the tears gathering in his eyes.

"So you came to get your phone. That can't be it. What else happened? You sounded freaked when you called me. Scared the crap out of me, you know."

Kurt took a deep breath and told him everything that had been happening. The heated look he had shared with Jacob in the diner, the conversation at the beach, the strange looks Billy and the others had given him the night before. Finally, he told him about the confrontation in the woods.

"Thanks for coming," Kurt said when he was finished. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

But Quil said nothing. He was quiet—too quiet—and he looked angry, angrier than Kurt had ever seen him look before.

"They're not going to take you, too," he said finally.

Kurt's brow furrowed. "Take me? Quil, what are you talking about?"

"Sam Uley's little cult. First it was Jared and Paul. Then Embry and finally Jacob. I'm not letting them take you, too. You're my best friend, Kurt. I can't lose you."

"No one is taking me anywhere," Kurt promised. He reached out to take hold of Quil's hand only to draw it back quickly. "You're burning up!"

"I—I don't feel good," he said suddenly, his voice frantic. "Something's wrong with me, Kurt—something's really wrong."

Kurt's heart clenched in his chest, and he nodded resolutely. "Let's go. I'm taking you to the hospital."

Quil managed to climb down the ladder by himself, but no sooner had his feet touched the ground did he begin to shake violently—like Jacob had before.

"Oh my God," Kurt breathed. "What's happening to you?"

Quil's eyes were wide and fearful when they met Kurt's, and his voice was high and plaintive. "I don't know," he wailed.

Kurt was frozen in spot as he watched Quil's shape begin to blur. It was just like before with Jacob only Quil's blurring didn't stop.

"Get back!" Quil cried.

Kurt didn't need any further instruction. Trembling in fear, he moved back several feet and pressed his body against the thick trunk of a tree just in time to watch as Quil shuddered and fell forward. He didn't hit the ground, though. Halfway there, he convulsed and then, with a loud ripping noise, exploded.

Kurt's breath caught in his throat because standing where Quil had been only a moment before was a large chocolate colored wolf.

It was then that everything clicked—the wolves with the strange intelligent eyes, the tribal legends about spirit warriors, everything.

They weren't wolves—they were werewolves.

"Quil?" his voice was tentative and tremulous. He was terrified, absolutely terrified, but Quil was his friend, his best friend, and he didn't think he would hurt him. Still, he didn't try to move any closer, though his hand reached out unbidden.

Quil was making the most heartbreaking noises—long woeful howls and tinny little yelps—but he didn't seem to be moving much. His eyes, the same eyes he had as a boy, seemed unable to focus. He looked from Kurt to the surrounding forest and then back again.

That was when Kurt heard the rustling in the woods. Quil seemed to know that someone was coming, too, because he started growling and inching closer to Kurt until he was standing in front of him with his back end towards him. Someone was coming this way, more than one someone if the volume of noise was any indication. Quil's body was tense, poised almost as if he was ready to attack whoever was quickly approaching them.

Kurt watched as not one but two wolves—one was large and black and the other was the russet-colored one that he'd seen before—emerged from the trees. The growls emanating from Quil became louder until he was snarling. The wolves paused, almost hesitant, for a moment before the russet-colored wolf went back into the trees. A second later someone else emerged from the trees, but it wasn't the wolf—it was Jacob Black.

The moment Quil locked eyes on Jacob he pounced. The black wolf, however, was much larger and faster. In no time at all, Quil was on the ground with the black wolf's paws on his throat. Quil's growls became pained, and his large body flailed beneath the other wolf.

"Stop!" Kurt cried out. "Can't you see you're hurting him?" He took a step forward only to find himself being pulled back by Jacob.

Kurt paused for a second—he hadn't even noticed Jacob moving—before trying to shake him off to no avail. Jacob's hold was like steel.

"He's okay," Jacob insisted when Kurt continued to struggle. "Sam's just trying to calm him down. It's you I'm worried about."

Kurt felt the same irritation he had felt that morning when Jacob had told him it was dangerous in the woods. "Yes, well, I don't need you to worry about me. Quil's my friend. He would never hurt me."

An inexplicable look flitted across Jacob's face. "He wouldn't mean to, but he might."

Kurt said nothing. He just fixed his eyes on the two wolves in front of him. The black one was utterly silent. It seemed almost calm. It just stood there with its large paws on Quil's neck while Quil whined and flailed about.

"Come on; let's get you out of here. This will probably take a while. Quil's pretty stubborn."

Kurt glared up at Jacob. "I'm not leaving him out here alone."

Jacob sighed. "He's not alone. Sam'll look after him."

"Will I be able to see him? Whenever he does turn back?"

Jacob didn't answer immediately. Instead, he turned to the black wolf, the two exchanging a meaningful look.

Kurt frowned, his eyes darting back to the wolf and Jacob.

"If I can—if it's safe—I'll bring him to see you."

Kurt wanted to insist on it—and question why Quil suddenly needed an escort—but he had a feeling that would get him nowhere.

"Hey," Jacob said, a strange tone in his voice. "Quill will be fine. I promise."

Reluctantly, Kurt looked away from the wolves and back at Jacob. The expression on his face was so earnest that Kurt allowed Jacob, whose grip on him had lessened slightly, to lead him through the woods. When they finally spilled out onto the street near his aunt's house, Kurt stopped walking. The street was deserted, and Kurt could see from where he was standing that even his aunt and Rebekah were gone.

"You're a werewolf—a spirit warrior," Kurt said, turning to face Jacob.

Jacob's eyes widened slightly. "Yeah, you know about that?"

"Well," Kurt said, his tone derisive. "I'm not blind." Blind, no, but definitely surprised to discover that there was an entirely other world that he hadn't even known existed until then.

"But you called us spirit warriors. How'd you know 'bout that?"

Kurt said nothing. He didn't want Quil to get in trouble for telling him the legends.

Almost as if he was reading his thoughts, Jacob reached out and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay if Quil told you the legends."

Kurt snatched his hand away from Jacob, a scowl on his face. He felt a momentary stab of regret as Jacob's face crumpled before straightening into something vaguely resembling a facsimile of a smile. He ignored the feeling of regret. "Why have you been following me?" he asked. "You have been, haven't you?"

Jacob sighed. "I—yeah. I was."

"Why?" Kurt asked once again, but this time there was no anger in his voice, only curiosity.

Jacob seemed torn. His gaze shifted away from Kurt and back towards the woods before falling on Kurt once again. "I can't tell you now—I have to get back—but I will tell you later, okay?"

"Back to Quil?" Kurt asked, his gaze following Jacob's.

Jacob nodded. "Yeah."

"And he's really going to be okay? He won't be a wolf forever, will he?"

Jacob shook his head. "Nah, he'll turn back into a human when he calms down enough. Sometimes it takes a while, but he should be fine, and like I said, I'll bring him to see you."

"But only if it's safe?" Kurt said, echoing Jacob's earlier words back to him.

"Yeah, only if it's safe."

A series of howls echoed through the woods causing Jacob to frown. "I have to go," he paused. "I get that you don't like being told what to do, but can you promise me to stay out of the woods until I come back? I'll tell you everything—whatever you want—I just…I need to know that you're safe."

"You'll explain everything later? About the wolves, about you following me?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah."

"And Quil is going to be fine?" he pressed.

"Quil is going to be fine. I promise."

Kurt wanted to argue—he did —but just like before, he found himself unable to say no. Instead, he just gave Jacob a little nod and left, walking the short distance between the woods to his aunt's house as quickly as he could.

He spent the rest of the morning attempting to keep busy. He took care of what little homework he hadn't already done before painstakingly cleaning up his room. He took a long shower and then meticulously went through his skincare regime. He had been slacking in that area lately, but he had plenty of time now. Millie had called halfway through the morning to tell Kurt that Rebekah's brother, Harry Clearwater, one of the many people Kurt had met the night before had had a heart attack, and they would probably be at the hospital for the rest of the day. Kurt felt a flash of guilt momentarily. He really knew very little about Rebekah. He'd never been rude to her, in fact, he was almost always failingly polite to her, but he never made any attempts to get to know her. He would have to change that.

When all of that was finished, he went into the kitchen and made a large batch of hummus. He wasn't sure if he would see Quil today, but he enjoyed cooking all the same. He had always been the primary chef. His dad could cook, but his meals had consisted largely of a slab of some sort of meat and potatoes. He cut up several cucumbers and made up far more hummus and cucumber sandwiches than he would ever eat just in case he was able to see Quil. If not, well, he was sure they wouldn't go to waste.

Finally, when there was absolutely nothing left for Kurt to do, he did the thing that he had been avoiding since the moment he first arrived in La Push: thinking about before. He didn't want to—he wasn't even sure he would be able to, not without breaking down, anyway, but hearing about Harry Clearwater having a heart attack brought everything back up. So instead of fighting it, which he was good at doing, he just gave in.

He thought about his dad, about how much he missed him, how much he loved him, about how he wasn't sure, some days, if he would ever be the same again. He thought about his friends. He missed them—it wasn't the soul crushing way he missed his dad, but he still missed them all the same.

He sat down at his laptop and pulled up his e-mail. He watched as message after message loaded—messages from Finn, Blaine, Mercedes, Rachel, and even messages from Puck along with nearly every glee club member. He did not read the messages, but he did open up a new one and typed one sentence in the message before sending it to everyone in his address book.

The message was simple:

I miss you.

He wanted to say more, but he wasn't sure what to say. He shut his computer down just in time to hear the front doorbell ring. Steeling himself, Kurt headed towards the living room to answer it. He opened the door to find a soaking wet and rather bedraggled looking Jacob standing on the door step. He was not alone. Behind him—looking a little drier than Jacob but not much—was Quil.