His bones groaned aching and weary. Bruises found on every part of his body, the wounds of the werewolf attack still bloodied and marked on the hazel eyed mans arm. Not even the shower could wash away the dreadful feeling of what had happened back there in the forest and Cooper limped out of the bathroom wearing Burts old sleepwear before dropping dead on the soft couch of the living, falling into a deep sleep. There were so many questions he had in his head but slept crept up to him fairly swiftly.

It felt like an eternity of dreams.

Cooper was in an endless loop of a face-off with Blaine, dreaming of those soulless hazel eyes glaring back with wild vehemence, strong hands cold on his neck, choking the air out of Cooper as he cried out, "Blaine no!" There was nothing but inexpressive amber and the thin sly leer as Blaines grasp grew tighter around Coopers neck.

There was a rough prod on his arm.

Blaine Andersons face disappeared like mist and the entire forest started to crumble into pieces; Cooper jolted up awake, drenched in cold sweat still feeling the cold breath of the dream hazing around him, shuddering in deep pants as he adjusted to his new surroundings. The comforting smell of lavender in the living room calmed him down, the familiar rocking armchair on his left hand side; the tall window at the corner spewing in the morning (or afternoon?) light.

Head hammering, he pressed himself up from the soft couch only to come face to face with the Cerberus, the creatures eyes glowering with bright distrust; both heads snarling fiercely at Cooper.

He froze, heart in his mouth as the Cerberus bared its sharp fangs, growling deep in its throat, the white furred beast looking ready to pounce for its kill any moment.

"Sam, come off it!" Kurts porcelain voice echoed through the living room and the Cerberus snuffed loudly before snapping its right head at Cooper, inches from the mans face, before trotting away excitedly towards the sound of the hunters voice.

Cooper shut his eyes tightly, shuddering and exhaling a long sigh before rubbing his head. He was groggy and his head was pounding painfully. After that entire escapade at the forest, Cooper guessed that he needed much more than a few hours of rest. Fatigue gnawed through his body as he stretched slowly before clumsily standing up and glancing towards the empty dining table.

The first time he was here, he was greeted with bacon; Cooper thought gruffly, hed rather that any day than a Cerberus snarling at his face after a bad nightmare.

"Afternoon boy!" Burts voice caught the tired mans attention and he turned around to see Burt Hummel emerging from the basement, hands full, holding onto bottles and jars. "Dont mind helping me put these on the dining table will ya?"

Cooper nodded quickly and reached over to help the older man with the glass phials, eyeing the greenish goo inside before placing it on the dining table behind the couch. He glanced at Burt expectantly, half pondering about the liquids inside those bottles when he remembered what Kurt had told him yesterday.

"Are these… your Necromancy stuff?" Cooper solicited shyly, pointing at the few jars on the table as Burt settled on the chair, whipping his head to Cooper, his face slightly pale at the question.

"Kurt told you?" It wasnt a question, it was a statement.

Cooper gulped, those sea grey eyes intently staring back at him sternly, and he nodded lightly before taking a seat opposite from Burt, feeling considerably fearful of the older man now. Cooper had only a slight idea of what a Necromancer was but he wasnt entirely sure of what Necromancy could do; last he heard from a friend, Necromancers supposedly could talk to the dead spirits of the underworld.

"These arent exactly Necromancy things," Burt sighed, gesturing at the jars and bottles filled with greenish liquids, "These are healing supplies Ive gotten from a friend of mine who practices healing." He pointed at a small jar the size of Coopers palm, "Thats for your arm kid, take it. Werewolf attacks can scar you for life."

Cooper nodded gratefully before taking the jar from the table, observing it and opening it up. He cringed at the smell, the odour of rotting bodies humming out from the small green jar and Cooper couldnt help but close it up again.

"Your friend," He began, coughing a little, "Is she trustable?"

"Her name is Brittany Pierce, heard of her?"

Coopers head shot up. Brittany Pierce? The odd girl who spent hours on end singing to trees and talking with flowers? The entire town thought she was mad, probably a witch some would say, casting out rumours about the young blonde child from the Northen side of town.

"Yeah I have," Cooper blinked, confused, "Isnt she the supposedly peculiar girl that everyone talks about?"

Burt tutted briskly and shook his head. "Rumours are mostly made up lies. The girl is far from mad. A little different but shes the best healer in the town!" He waved at the jar that Cooper was holding, "Give it a try, youll see what I mean."

Holding his breath, Cooper reopened the jar and scooped out a small amount of green gunk, recoiling slightly as he rubbed it over his arm where the werewolf had clawed over. Instantly the large long claw marks begun to heal right in front of his eyes and Cooper gasped, watching his red raw skin reforming back, the claw marks slowly disappearing.

He glanced up at Burts grin, the twinkle in the grey eyes and the older man nodded.

"Best healer in town." He grunted, looking pleased.

Cooper blinked in awe, staring shell shocked at his arm, now looking as if it was never even touched. Not a scar to be seen, no bruise of any kind. He quietly closed the jar before handing it back to Burt, feeling ashamed that he thought of Brittany as a mad house.

"She talks to trees and flowers because they tell her the secrets to heal," Burt explained softly, watching Coopers downcast expression, "Shes no elf but shes an extraordinary young girl, one of Kurts oldest best friends."

At that Cooper looked back up at Burt. Best friends? He didnt even know that boy was capable of finding friends with all that sarcastic snark and the cold exterior that Kurt portrayed most of the time. Sure there was probably some humane heart in that kid but the young hunter boy proved to be heartless pretty much incessantly.

"They were childhood friends," Burt illuminated on Coopers confusion, "Always thought Kurt would end up with her but shes got her own agenda." He let out a deep chuckle before passing Cooper another bottle filled with dark blue slime.

"For your bruises," He offered smiling kindly.

Cooper returned the grin before eagerly taking the bottle and opening it up; mercifully the blue slime smelt of nothing as he applied it on his neck, where Blaine had grabbed and choked him. He shuddered at the memory, feeling the wintry fingers creep up his neck, his dreams vivid and tormenting.

"So Necromancer," Cooper hurriedly tried to will away those thoughts with a curious question to Burt, "I dont mean to pry but what is that exactly?"

The older mans grin vanished and Cooper immediately regretted the enquiry. It seemed like Burt wasnt too keen on answering his query. Slowly Cooper raised his hands up in defence, waving the question off, "Im sorry if I over stepped my boundaries, just forget I even asked." He gulped.

There was a long pause before Burt exhaled resignedly.

"Yes you did," He started, fiddling with a jar now, "But I think you deserve an answer." Burt scratched his head slightly.

"Necromancy is black magic, a form of old witchcraft practiced by shamans before our time. Essentially it was known as an evil source of sorcery, evil mages performing Necromancy for sin, summoning dead spirits to haunt the living and they were thrown at the stake for doing such." He explained slowly, looking at Cooper, frowning a little.

"You can bring the dead back to life?" Coopers eyes were blown wide now, questions forming in his head. "Thats amazing!"

Burt shook his head.

"All the rituals, conjuring, spell casting I do have a side effect to it. Black magic always find a way a finding a way back to haunt you. Yes I can bring the dead back to life but it comes with a price." He coughed, eyes clouded over with a faraway look.

There was a pause before Burt turned back to Cooper.

"Never dive into things like that boy," He warned quietly, "Amazing as it sounds, theres no way of turning back."

The brown haired male nodded, staring at Burt in silent wonder and admiration. There was no doubt that the Hummels were an interesting bunch – he noted, Burt was a Necromancer, Kurts mom was an elf and Kurt was… well what was Kurt?

"Ive been meaning to ask this question for a while," Cooper began indolently, watching Burts brow rise as he spoke, "If you are a necromancer, is Kurt one too?"

At that Burts face grew solemn.

"Kurt is just a hunter." He declared quietly.

Cooper took that as keep quiet, no more asking questions and he nodded, capping the healing bruise bottle back and placing it on the table. Kurt is just a hunter? He doubted that, recalling the inhuman speed the boy had and the blue fire arrows he shot. There was something else to Kurt and he would find out sooner or later.

"Ive noticed posters of your face around town, popular arent we?" Burt instigated, chuckling and lightening the mood, "I think you should give your parents a call." He tilted his head towards a phone located at the kitchen door.

Cooper nodded and got up to the phone, dialling for his mother, preparing for the mouth full that he was going to get.

The high shrill voice of Tabitha Anderson answered the phone, "Yes? Who is this?"

Cooper couldnt help but flinch at the piercing tone of his mother and managed to mutter out, "Mother? Its me, Coop."

There was an instant shriek of mixed horror and excitement, a blabber of words and screaming that Cooper could only make out as "HES ALIVE!" and "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN BOY?" Cooper baulked a little at the high voice, gritted his teeth as he replied, "Mother, Im fine. Ive been busy. Dont worry about me."

Once again there was a loud scream of undecipherable words, Cooper only recognising as "YOU NEVER VISIT ANYMORE" Judging by Burts smirk and small giggles, he could possibly hear the outcries of rebut of Tabitha Anderson on the phone too.

"Im alright mother, just in the midst of a case. Im sorry I didnt call, I got caught up in work."

There was more shouting and prodding questions from his mother before she finally let him hang up on the phone with a promise to visit her soon. Sighing loudly, Cooper flopped on the seat unenthusiastically rubbing his face and shaking his head. Thankfully he didnt have to explain himself fully, the horror of it if he actually had to describe the escapade in the forest to his mother.

There was a loud thumping noise that interrupted his thoughts and the brown haired male glanced up only to see the Cerberus now in the living room, seated on the couch obediently and watching them with big blue eyes. Behind, strolled in Kurt Hummel, the boy still covered in battle scars dressed up in a long maroon shirt and long pyjamas pants, holding onto a book and grumpily taking a seat at the dining room table.

"Kurt," Burt greeted quietly, eyeing the boy as he yanked a chair and stumbled onto it grouchily, seating himself and glaring at the jars in front of him.

"Im not putting those on me." Kurt announced coldly, placing his book down on the table, eyeing the bottles icily, "It doesnt work."

Burt frowned deeply, "It does work, weve just tested it out and Coopers arm is all healed." He pointed at Cooper, who nodded, lifting up his arm and showing it over to the hunter.

"Sure its healed now. Coopers going to get a third arm growing out of there by tonight." The brunette commented darkly, rolling his eyes, "Good luck, Mr. Anderson."

It was Coopers turn to frown now, rubbing his arm absentmindedly.

"Hes just joking around." Burt grunted.

"No Im not." Kurt sneered icily.

Burt gave a warning grunt.

There was a long pause, only the sniffling of the Cerberus could be heard occasionally.

"I have good news and bad news." The grey eyed man began delicately, looking at Cooper with a poignant gaze in those pools, "Good news is that there is a way to help your brother. Its not the easiest trick in the book but there is a light out of the tunnel."

Cooper nodded slowly.

"Bad news," Kurt interrupted in, getting the attention of the two men, "Is that its going to take a long time; Blaines going to try to escape and its much better to just kill your brother off. You can do it again; you shot him in the head anyway."

There was glint of malice in those ice blue eyes.

Cooper whipped his head over to Burt expectantly, willing the older man to say something to contradict his son.

"It will take a while," Burt sighed, looking at Cooper exhaustedly, "I have no idea how long it will take boy, but trust me when I say we will do everything we can to help Blaine."

"But if we cant," Kurt cut in once more, a smirk curved onto his lips, "The last resort is killing your little brother."

"Whats with you and killing my brother?" Cooper snapped, glaring at Kurt now, hazel boring into blue. "I know he tried to kill us a few times," at that Burt inhaled nosily, "but that doesnt mean you have to sound like a blasted murderer!"

Kurt wasnt even fazed, a sneer creeping up to the pale elfish face.

"Would you rather you keep him in a cage for eternity? Or would you like him as your pet Wendigo?" He snorted bitterly, rolling his blue eyes, an eye brow raised at Cooper, "Lets all take turns petting Blaine Anderson!"

"Kurt!" Burt growled from the end of the table, slamming his hand on the wooden counter, louring at his son.

The younger boy scowled before turning away from them, giving his attention to the Cerberus who was watching with inquisitive eyes.

"I will have to do some research," Burt pressed the bridge of his nose with his fingers tiredly, "I have to make sure I gather enough information before I do any sort of ritual so that will take me about three to four days – in the meantime," He cocked his head at Kurt then Cooper, "Both of you will stand guard at the cage whenever you can and when Blaine wakes up, make sure he doesnt escape."

Cooper dipped his head curtly and Kurt just let out an apathetic huff, back still facing them.

"Kurt Hummel," Burt sounded irate now, "Will you please explain why that thing is on the couch?"

"Because he likes it there." Came the detached reply.

There was a loud hard sigh.

"Explain, Kurt. I told you before about bringing beasts back home." The older man was shaking his head, gesturing at the Cerberus who just sat there quietly, chin rested on the top of the couch, big nose quivering as it observed them all.

Kurt turned back to the dining table, eyes voided of any emotion.

"Look at him." He under-toned darkly, "Hes got only two heads; you tell me how hes going to survive the winter with Smythe," Kurt spat out Sebastians name like it was venom, "Hunting in the forest."

"Its a Cerberus; it can take care of itself. They are known for camouflaging and speed, it is a hell hound, Kurt, and nothing can hurt it." His father rumbled back.

Kurt gestured to the pink flesh sticking out like a sore thumb on the Cerberus.

"Hes injured and unbalanced because his head was sliced off by some hunter!" He grimaced, "He saved me and I dont want to just leave him there, clumsy and defenceless to hunters who just want his head as a trophy, dad!

Defenceless? Cooper frowned, remembering the beasts angry snarl and the set of sharp jaws inches from his face. Wait, Hell-hound?

Burt was silent, deep in thought.

"Im keeping him, Dad." Kurt proclaimed. "At least until hes ready to go back to the forest."

The Cerberus let out a soft wuff.

"Fine." Burt grunted, "Until it gets better."

Kurt just huffed. The Cerberus huffed after him.

Grabbing a jar from the table, Kurt waltzed to the living room, beckoning for the two headed beast.

"Your shifts tonight." He announced and Cooper realized the boy was talking to him. "Have fun staring at Blaine as he rots in the cage!"

Cooper pursed his lips and held back an angry retort as he watched Kurt stalk off, Cerberus on his heels, bumping the boys hands happily.

"Well," Burt got up and motioned for Cooper to follow, "Lets just prepare dinner, Im sure you must be hungry."

Grinning, the hazel eyed man nodded animatedly.

"Starving!"

Dinner was a quiet affair.

Kurt was picking on his salad, occasionally bending under the table and hand feeding the Cerberus strawberries from his plate, earning dagger stares from his father. Cooper enjoyed the meal, burgers and fries, devouring it as if he hadnt eaten for a week.

As Kurt offered to wash the dishes, the Cerberus following the boy back into the kitchen, Burt began to instruct Cooper on what to do if Blaine actually woke up and how he should react to the different situations.

Salt and silver were the main ingredients to slow down the Wendigo; located at the boxes next to the light switch – Cooper was to throw the sea salt the moment Blaine woke up, it would burn but Burt promised it wouldnt hurt Blaine much.

Silver daggers located in the drawers next to the chair in the room, only silver could harm the beast, henceforth silver bullets and silver swords all to be handed over to Cooper when he was on the duty shift.

Cooper nodded intently, listening carefully to the older man.

The moment his shift started, Cooper was to lock the basement door with the silver locks and pour a line of sea salt at the door. He would be armed with two guns, a sword and a flask of holy water just in case. Enter the basement and take a seat, watching over the cage. The shift would start exactly at midnight to the wee hours in the morning where Kurt would later take over; in which Cooper had to unlock all the locks, always keeping an eye on the cage.

No sleeping. Burt warned. Or at least try not to sleep at all.

Never stand too close to the cage, the bars might electrocute you.

Always be on guard.

"Its not as if its going to wake up on your shift anyway," Kurt commented from the kitchen, sounding irked, "Most probably mine."

Cooper frowned darkly.

"Make sure you are poised to fight," Burt ignored Kurts remark, "Just in case Blaine escapes, though I highly doubt it – best to be prepared."

Cooper nodded and at the stroke of midnight he found himself back in the dark gloomy basement, sitting on a chair, hands clutching onto the silver guns. It was cold within those sinister walls, but there wasnt any noise or movement coming from the cage.

Kurt was probably right. Blaine wasnt going to wake up on his shift at any moment.

Maybe it was alright to just a take a short nap.

Coopers eyes fluttered shut.

The dreams came back, twisted and haunting, Blaines cold grip on his neck, the ominous forest rotating around and around, long melancholy humming echoing through his mind, the pain on his neck getting tighter and tighter. It was agony in eternity until Cooper heard a soft thud.

He shot up awake once and found himself still in the basement, heart in thudding in his chest, taking a good look around his surroundings. He was bent slightly at an awkward angle on the chair and he hurriedly sat back up, realizing his guns were now missing.

"Kurt?" He whispered, glancing down and recognizing the silver weapons on the floor. He heaved a quick sigh of relief and picked the guns up only to hear a deep laboured breathing.

Cooper Anderson froze.

"Hello Coop." Came a sneer.