The grandiose black oak tree stood still, its skeletal boughs twisted, and glittered like brass coils set facing a lambent and curling flame as the sunset in the distance blanketed over them. The memory of the same towering oak flickered brightly in Kurt Hummels mind as he took one hand to lean against the ancient oak, fingertips gripping into the crevasses that ran through the bark. It was the largest black oak that remained tall in the middle of the forest, only visible to those who wish to find it: a symbol for longevity and immortality, it is believed that the Wendigo grows in tandem with this very oak tree.

The pastel violet and gold of the sinking sun called to Kurts immediate attention. It was getting dark, which meant the possibility of the Wendigo appearing once more. Gathering up his items, Kurt shot Blaine an expectant glare, the other boy watching the light streaking through the bough in both brilliant and shadowy beams.

"Its right under our noses." The hunter muttered, shaking his head. "We have to hurry and find an entrance."

"And hopefully save Burt before the Wendigo appears?" Blaine added nervously, turning to the hunter.

"No, so that we can go home and have cake." The brunette drawled, rolling his eyes.

There was a pause.

"Of course Im hoping to get Burt out before that thing materializes!"

With a swift nod of the head, Blaine grabbed his items, brandishing his sword with one hand. Gracefully, both boys headed down the colossal trunk of the tree, which was hunkered low to the winter-swept hill, as if it wanted nothing more than to be covered by the rugged rocks and snow.

"Pretty subtle place to hide huh?" The hunter snorted, now glancing at the sweeping oak tree, its bottom branches fanned out wide, separating from each other like the petals of a blossom, only a metre or so from the ground.

Blaine let out a chuckle.

"Theres probably a catch." The curly haired boy reported.

They shared a warm smile before the hunter quickly shrugged it off. He had more important things to do: specifically, find the entrance to the cavern within the oak tree. Hastily, they trekked around the circumference of the enormous tree, leaping over the cumbrous roots cascading from winter floors, jets of rough brown bark lopping and turning before they joined the towering tree above.

"Theres a lot of hidden roots beneath the snow," Kurt joshed, "Careful or youll soon be sprawled on the ground with an opportunistic twig up your nose."

Blaine let out a grunt.

Where is it? Kurt could only remember bits and pieces from his memory; and the entrance did not happen to be one of them. They are at the right tree, he pondered, gazing up at the massive oak, its denuded form standing starkly against the snow, almost like charcoal outlines sketched by a passing artist. But where is that entrance? He pressed his hands along the thick roots, some adorn with an unblemished white layer of snow – perhaps covered with the gnarling roots that laced the ancient oak.

His boots felt the crunch of snow beneath as the hunter circled the tree as if it were his prey, narrowing his focus to every nook and cranny, occasionally leaping onto the roots and tapping it with his knuckles – hollow. There didnt seem to be any sort of entryway, much less a hole leading to any underground cavern. Did Blaine make a mistake? Kurt tilted his head over to stare at Blaine, who was dragging his hands over the crevices of the oak, looking beneath the twisted bark for a passageway.

"How does one enter anyway?" Kurt snorted, "It looks like theres no way in."

"Weve both entered the cavern before, Kurt." Blaine acclaimed, stopping in his treks and staring deeply at the base of the tree. "Maybe its just covered under snow?"

Blaine scratched his chin thoughtfully and gave a curt nod.

"Damn it." The hunter gritted his teeth. "For all we know, that thing could be watching us right now, just waiting for the right moment to strike."

The curly haired boy gave a pout.

"I resent the fact that you call it a thing, you know." He mumbled under his breath.

Kurt ignored that.

"I thought you knew how to get into this cave?" The hunter jabbed the trunk with his boot nonchalantly.

Blaine let out a sigh and continued to press his fingers around the thick trunk of tree, side stepping the long formed roots. The hunter watched curiously as the curly haired boy leaped from root to root, tapping fervently with his boot and knocking branches with his knuckles. It was amusing, really, Kurt smirked to himself, oddly fond of his companion.

He paused, shaking that thought of his head. There was no time to be oddly fond of anyone – especially not Blaine. He had to save Burt. That was his first priority.

The hunter scratched his chin impatiently, but nothing, no clue or any sort of idea popped into his head.

"Think like that ghastly beast, after all youve been part of it." He announced, stonewalled, watching Blaine swivel around, a frown on the other boys face.

"Is it really the time to get pissed at me for calling that thing gruesome?" Kurt snorted, rolling his eyes at the change of the boys expression.

There was long pause as those brown pools glared, frustrated, at Kurt.

"Does it need a sacrifice?" The hunter pointed coolly, "Because I promise you, glare at me again, and I will make sure you open the entrance with your dead body."

Blaine turned away, letting out an angry exhale.

Kurt bit back a retort. First priority. He paced around, stomping the ground. If anything, the hunter was starting to feel more than intolerant; standing around the large towering oak, he seemed almost incapable of doing much except feel the roots and bark of the tree for something that wasnt there – he felt like a colossal failure. A barren hole was digging into his heart, and he was started to get infuriated at himself – and rather uneasy at the thought of entering the cave.

What if Burt wasnt inside?

What if it was a trap?

Why couldnt he, or Blaine, of all people find a damn entrance?

"Kurt why are you just standing there?" Blaine grumbled under his breath, stepping over to the hunter, his face pale in the setting sun, "We have to figure out this together."

The other boy reached out a hand to try to get the hunters attention, and Kurt jerked away.

"I am figuring this out." The hunter mumbled back, gritting his teeth. "But nothing in the book, or in any of my experience in the forest has ever taught me about this!"

Kurt felt ignoble.

"I just – dont know. Maybe only Wendigos can open the entrance."

Even the words that tumbled out his lips sounded completely asinine.

Blaine kept silent.

It seemed like almost an eternity before the curly haired boy moved aside.

"I think," he murmured, "Maybe –"

Back facing Kurt, Blaine marched up towards the oak, pushing past the roots and coming to a standstill in the middle of the flora. "You trust me right, Kurt?" Quietly, the curly haired boy pressed his hands onto the bark once more. Snorting under his breath, the hunter was close to breaking a branch and swatting it at the other boy – what did he want now? Trust was given accordingly, judging by what they had gone through together.

He nodded instead of reprimanding the other, curious of what Blaine was up to.

"Didnt you already try assaulting the tree with your hand?" Kurt scoffed bluntly, watching the other grip the bark with his fingers. "It didnt wo-"

The hunter froze.

The oak trees roots started to move and twirl, almost enchantingly, moving and partitioning itself like the parting waves of the ocean. It spun and curled, as if touched by something painful, pulling aside and revealing a large, beast size dirt hole that seemed to lead to the cave.

But Kurt was frozen at the sight of the sudden expose of the entrance.

He was frozen at the sight of Blaine Anderson.

The curly haired boy had turned around as the roots parted, and in place of those soft hazel brown pools Kurt was fond of, stood a glint of red, something so familiar it chilled the hunter to the bone. Inside his head, alarm bells were ringing, they were ringing tumultuously – and he whipped out his dagger immediately.

"Kurt I-"

"Wendigo." The hunters fist trembled, his dagger poised to slice Blaine if the boy tried to take a step forward. "You are a Wendigo." Kurt stated coldly, "You are a Wendigo."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Blaine grumbled, raising his hands up in defence, "You have bigger things to worry about, other than me."

"You!" Kurt managed to sputter, watching the same cool cold eyes examine him – those familiar pools that watched him just a week ago, back in that silver cage within the basement of the Hummels. "Youve coerced me into believing you!"

"I did not!" Blaine looked confused now, his lips pursed in a thin line. "Honestly, Kurt, I have no clue what you are –"

The hunter shoved against the curly haired hair, pressing his dagger roughly at Blaines throat, pressing the weight of his body onto the smaller teen, and baring his teeth. He lied, all this while – from the start, to fighting off werewolves effortlessly , that battle with Quinn – it was all too obvious. Kurt Hummel wasnt imprudent. He was selfish, aloof, maybe even reckless from time to time but he sure as hell wasnt senseless.

He stood, speechless, entranced by the same glint of malice.

From the corner of his eye, he examined the curly haired boys face. Instead of any sort of dread or anxiety, Blaine looked appallingly calm. Impassioned, in fact. He should have known, Kurt chided himself, as a light bulb lit up in his head. Yes, even though the boy had proved himself countless of times to be trustworthy – it had crumbled in the end, the lies that had spun, the web was unravelling.

The hunter pressed his knife deeper and the boy let out a grunt of anger.

"Kurt." Blaines voice was gravelly, "Stop."

What of the extraction at Brittany Pierces? What happened back then? Was Blaine not possessed? Kurt knew that was something off with the boy from the start, things never did add up. No regular kid would outlandishly trek out into the woods without a good reason. No normal mortal would last the blows that cut through his flesh. No ordinary human finite being would be standing here, waiting for a Wendigo to arrive. What was he?

If the Wendigo was truly out in the forest - what was Blaine?

The hunter brought his steely gaze upon the curly haired boy, a hard knot in his gut.

"Give me one reason not to slice your throat open and watch a waterfall of blood gush at my feet." He hissed, narrowing his eyes. Every word fuelled the fire that burned inside of him. Every pause was like gasoline to it and the hunter threw the first punch. Slamming hard into Blaines face while he sunk to the ground in shock. Blood pooled in his mouth and the other boy stumbled back for a brief second, catching his breath.

He could feel the other shrink tersely at his sudden hostility, Blaines gaze hastily locked on his own feet, refusing to answer.

Questions buzzed through the hunter mind: was that the reason why Blaine had ridiculously snatched his silver box: the one containing his mothers heart? The reason why he managed to fend off monsters and hunters alike? Was that the reason why Cooper was still after him? Were they all just in cahoots from the start – this entire mess?

It was his fault for trusting Cooper Anderson in the first place, the man acted like some sort of martyr and ended up betraying Kurts conviction. He had fallen prey to his own empathy, feeling slightly to blame for the Wendingo in the first place. The hunter offered his services, helped him find his lost brother but eventually slipped into a rabbit hole of gobbledygook.

The older police chiefs "find my poor lost brother, we miss him", was merely him lying through his teeth as he tried to ensnarl Kurts guilt. It was more than that and he knew it. It was more than what Blaine insisted – Cooper just wanted his younger brother out of the picture – there was something else that they knew.

Something like this?

"Answer me, Wendigo!" Kurt roared.

It was like flipping a switch.

In a quick blink, Blaine had his hands on Kurts own, pushing the hunter back with incredibly strength, and pinning the brunette down onto the snowy grounds. The curly haired boy snatched the dagger and flung it into the distance, his other free hand on a choke hold of Kurt. It happened so inhumanly fast, and the hunter let out a disgruntle growl of betrayal.

Blaines been lying from the start.

"One reason?" There it was. That familiar purr.

Blaines mouth split into an awful grin.

"You are still alive arent you?"

Kurt struggled to move, gasping at the tight grip on his neck.

"Honestly, I did all of this so you could trust me!" The curly haired boy rolled his eyes. "I let a bunch of hunters, monsters and an elf beat me up."

The hunter let out a guttural growl, and tried to push Blaine off but to no avail. Rage swelled within him, there was no trace of tears, not in his eyes, even though his mind threatened him to spill out cascades of salty tears. He was lied to, all this while, being led to the monsters lair. His eyes narrowed, cold, face reddening.

"I fucking trusted you!" He spluttered out, spit flying from his mouth as he struggled more to free himself.

The curly haired boy looked hurt for a moment before returning to a nonplussed expression.

"Go on kill me, but you wont get away with this – Cooper is after your ass." Kurt hissed, baring his teeth, digging his fingers into Blaines thighs, "In fact, everyone is after you. You wont get away with this."

He was angry, quivering with complete disdain as he tried to struggle to break free. Blaines grip was tight, but it wasnt suffocating – enough to hold the hunter down, but not rough enough to cause much pain. Hot searing rage danced around his temples as Kurt let out an exasperated growl, reproaching himself, bright stabs of guilt, anger, pain and fear threatening to take over his body.

No. He wasnt going to cry.

Never had Kurt encountered these emotions on his many hunts. Yes, he had quarried after dread vampires in the fathomless bowls and dripping basins of the deepest caves. He had ascended sky-kissing mountains to search for the lost chalice from a blood besmeared troll. He had crossed the sea of sirens, fought werewolves, befriended Sebastian – but never had he felt as if he was sick to the stomach. The dread that creeped up his throat, and he felt like he had partook in an unholy parody of life.

Blaines eyes narrowed.

Kurt overlooked the other boy because he grew fond of him, the hunter realised, gashing his teeth. It was silly now, looking back, that Blaine managed to escape, scot free from a well-trained huntress, a bunch of werewolves, an elf, a wendigo no less – completely unharmed – and even still without proper training or any sort of magic.

He was stupid enough to feel anything for the other boy.

"Why?" The hunter spat. "Is this just a game to you? Playing around with your victim," Kurt took a gasp of air, "your prey?"

Blaines blinked, looking beyond miffed.

Kurt couldnt help but let a small splutter escape him.

"I trusted you." He mumbled, numb. "I thought you were different."

There was a flicker of doubt that appeared on Blaines face, and the hunter grabbed the fleeting opportunity, twisting himself out of the chokehold and throwing a harsh punch to the latter, smirking as he heard the other howl in agony.

How dare he, Kurt thought, swinging another punch over Blaines forehead, an animal snarl clawed its way up his throat, "I should have never listened." He lunged, swinging once more, but Blaine was agile, stepping out of range, quickly driving his shoulder into Kurts chest, slamming him back onto the ground.

Blaine grabbed Kurts collar, the strength of his grip causing the soft woollen material to rip apart, giving the hunter another escape as the brunette smashed the curly haired boys nose with his head, forcing Blaine to fall back.

"All this time," Kurt clenched his fists, steadying himself as he stood up, snow falling from his jacket, "Your sweet stories of love," He moved closer to Blaine, "care," he grabbed Blaines hair, and aimed a violent swing at his face, "trust," he buried punches, over and over again, finally slamming the boys body onto the snowy ground. "Were nothing but pretty little lies.

Blaine, battered as he was, let out a soft snort, face down on the ground. The snort soon dissolved into a small giggle, before the curly haired boy was laughing raucously.

Kurt sucked at the air, like it had suddenly become thick, and was not almost too difficult to draw in. He became deaf to the chuckles that had escaped Blaine; instead, dragging the other boy and slamming him onto the oak tree, fixing his cold glare on him. Blaine gazed back, his skin ruptured, growing purple blooms. A cut above his left eye, blood browning.

The hunter himself felt none less too good, his guts on fire, from the rage and the pain. Sure he was in ache, but Kurt felt battered on the inside, worse than any broken bone.

"Was it fun?" Kurt spat, feeling his body shake in agony. "Taking whats left of my sentiment and crushing it, like it never mattered at all?"

He moved his hand to his back pocket, wanting to fish his dagger out before realising that Blaine had knocked it away. Twisting to see if the silver weapon was anywhere close to him, Kurt felt the sudden metal sitting precariously on his neck, soft enough to not pierce the skin, hard enough to enforce the intended message.

"Looking for this?" Blaine asked, hazel eyes gleaming as the hunters gaze fell back to the – not boy – Kurt corrected himself bitterly – but Wendigo.

The harsh metal should have felt cold and raw against his bare skin, but he was numb. He couldnt feel anything except for the excruciating pain of his betrayal, throat and heart held in a silver grasp, staring lifelessly at the hazel eyes that held the blade. Golden, Kurt thought, heart in his throat, his eyes were golden. There wasnt a trace of vibrancy they once held, no trace of the Blaine that he knew, instead stood the glint of malice, the cold golden glare.

The hunter tipped his chin up into the sharpened edge.

"Go on." He whispered, tempting Blaine to end his anguish. A small stream of blood trickled from the feeble cut.

The Wendigo did not flinch, or remove his eyes from Kurts, instead etching a cruel smile out across gaunt features. Kurts impassioned expression shifted at the sight of Blaines merciless glare, legs almost failing beneath him. The silver started to burn his skin, and the hunter braced himself for the worst.

"Is that what you believe?" He asked, voice exceptionally calm. "After all this, you still think Im a monster?"

Kurt let out a small grunt.

Blaine shook his head.

"Fine, then, Kurt." The Wendigos mouth formed into a frown. "Fine."

And then he kissed him.