Fic: First Instinct (5 of ?)
Chapter 1
Previous Chapter
Chapter 5
This morning, this beautiful morning, when Kurt woke up it was mid-morning, someone was pounding on his door, and human-Puck was asleep next to him in the bed, wrapped in the sheets and sort of spread-eagled in comfort. He wasn’t stirring with the noise from the other room, so Kurt let him be, wrapping his robe around himself and going to answer the door.
“You’re actually here?” a voice cried when he opened the door to Finn’s surprised, joyful face. “Dude, we’ve been looking everywhere for you. Mom even called the cops. Where did you go?”
Not really thinking, Kurt lied and said, “Atlantic City. Sorry, Finn. I thought I left a message, but I met this guy and …” What was he going to say? That he was kidnapped by a man and raped by a werewolf, who was now sleeping off a murder spree in his bed? Why would anyone believe that? Kurt barely believed it and he'd lived through it. If he told Finn Kurt knew he would just be accused of making things up to avoid telling the truth - what truth, Kurt didn't know, but he knew he couldn't tell Finn what had actually happened.
“God, Kurt,” Finn rolled his eyes. “We were worried sick! Guess I should call the cops and let them know you’re okay.”
“Yeah,” Kurt said, “you do that.” He tried to close the door, but Finn was already slipping inside, phone to his ear and heading for Kurt’s fridge.
“Detective Kerns?” Finn asked, taking a soda and returning to the living room. “Yeah, it’s Finn Hudson. I found my brother. He got home late last night, it looks like.” Finn leaned over so he could see into the bedroom and Kurt tried to get in the way, but Finn must have seen Puck, because he raised an eyebrow at Kurt as he replied to the detective, “Atlantic City… Yeah, I know … Okay … Thanks for all your help, man. I really appreciate it. I’ll see you when you get here. Bye!”
“When he gets here?” Kurt asked, wrapping his robe tighter around himself and wondering what a trained professional might see if he came into this apartment and had a look around. “Why?”
“There’s a missing person's report,” Finn pointed out, flopping down on the couch and opening his soda before taking a long gulp. “Guy’s gotta see you with his own eyes before he closes the case.”
“Ah,” Kurt nodded. “Well, I should get dressed…”
“You okay?” Finn asked, really looking Kurt in the eye. Oh, God. What did he see there? Could he tell what Kurt had been through? “You look like you’ve had a rough couple of days.”
Kurt laughed. “Yeah. Yeah, I have. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Retreating into the bedroom, Kurt closed the door behind him. Puck was still asleep, spread out like he hadn’t a care in the world, and Kurt really hated to do it, but he had to wake the guy up. Lying down next to him on the bed, Kurt carefully started stroking Puck’s hair, front to back and down his neck several times until he woke up.
Blinking a few times, Puck’s face spread in a slow smile as he met Kurt’s eyes and murmured, “Hey.”
Unable to keep himself from returning the smile, Kurt grinned, “Hey, yourself. How’d it feel, sleeping in a bed for a change?”
“Awesome,” Puck replied, snuggling deeper into Kurt’s pillow and sighing. It looked like he belonged there.
“Listen,” Kurt said, petting Puck again. “My step-brother is here and a police detective is coming to talk to us. I told them we were in Atlantic City together for the past four days. On the trip back, we lost our IDs, okay?”
“Did we drive?” Puck asked, rolling over too look up at Kurt. “Or what?”
“We drove,” Kurt nodded. “We took your car, since mine’s parked downtown somewhere and I have to go find it. We also need to find you some clothes that fit.”
“Shit,” Puck sighed, looking down at his body. “I haven’t worn clothes in six years. It’s gonna feel weird, like all constricting on my junk.”
Kurt laughed and squeezed Puck’s shoulder before getting up and looking through his closet. “Here,” he said, pulling out a few things. “I got these pants from Carole and they’re too big, so they’ll probably fit you alright. And this is my college sweatshirt. Practically one-size fits all. I won’t subject you to boxer briefs.”
Puck laughed again and rolled his neck as he got up, cracking the joints and then stretching full-out. God, he had a nice body. It was easier to appreciate now that Kurt was home and safe and Kurt felt his cock stirring a little in interest. Sniffing the air deeply, Puck turned to look at Kurt and raised an eyebrow, “Really?”
“What?” Kurt replied, blushing as he stalked over to his wardrobe to find something suitable to wear in front of a police detective.
Puck shook his head and picked up the clothes, asking, “Could I take a shower? Haven’t had a warm one in-”
“Six years,” Kurt finished for him. “Yeah, go ahead.” He didn’t realize that Puck would leave the bedroom, still limping a little, and greet Finn without at least wrapping a towel around his waist. Kurt rushed after him and pushed Puck into the bathroom, blushing as he turned to Finn, “I’m sorry about that. He’s got some boundary issues.”
“Yeah,” Finn replied with a confused, but happy grin. “Can’t say I blame you for hooking up with him, though. That must have been a fun trip!”
“Not really, no,” Kurt sighed, shaking his head when Finn’s expression asked for an explanation. “I’ll finish getting dressed now.”
**88**
Things with the detective went better than Kurt expected - apparently nineteen-year-olds went “missing” fairly often and almost always turned up after a few days spent partying and getting laid - and he found out that Puck’s real name was Noah Puckerman. The detective didn’t even write it down before he went back to work. Finn left, too, saying, “You have to go to the house, like now, dude. Mom and Burt are waiting for you.”
“I’ll go,” Kurt promised. “I just have to go get my car first. It won’t take me long.”
Finn nodded and waved goodbye, shaking Puck’s hand now that he was dressed and giving Kurt a hard look to remind him of his promise.
“I suppose,” Puck muttered, rubbing the back of his head, “I should get out of your way, too. I mean, I could probably call my pack and get them to come get me, or at least talk to me for starters.”
“I have a better idea,” Kurt said, picking up Lodes’ wallet and keys. “I think we should go find Lodes’ house and whoever he’s got stashed there before the cops find his body and start poking around.”
“Quinn,” Puck breathed, nodding quickly. “She should still be alive, not due for another six months. We can save her and my pup.”
“Yes we can,” Kurt smiled. Going back into his closet, he found an old pair of sneakers that were fairly worn and stretched out, so he gave those to Puck along with a pair of socks. “Let’s move.”
Before they could get out the door, however, Puck asked, “Do you have, like a raw steak or something? I’m starving, man.”
Kurt shook his head and went to the freezer. It wasn’t like he was going to eat this steak after hearing Puck talk about eating people and seeing the carnage his wolf-teeth could dole out first hand.
**88**
Kurt parked Lodes’ truck outside the dead man’s house and got out, Puck a half a step ahead of him. The werewolf took a deep breath of the air and Kurt shivered. He liked human-Puck a lot, maybe even more than a lot, but wolf-Puck still unnerved him despite that.
Taking another sniff of air, Puck nodded, “She’s here. Or at least, she’s been here recently.”
“Have you ever been here?” Kurt asked, following Puck, who was still limping a little, toward the front door of the little farm house.
“A long time ago,” Puck nodded, “when I was first caught. He tortured me in there,” Puck pointed to a detached garage with fading white paint. Then, he tried the front door of the house and found it unlocked. “Gimme the keys.”
Kurt didn’t want to argue with a werewolf trying to find his kids, so he handed the keys over, looking around and generally keeping watch as Puck tried a few keys before finding the one that worked the lock. “Be careful,” Kurt hissed. The house was probably empty, or at least harmless, but Kurt had lived in a small town long enough to know that some of the crazies liked to booby-trap their houses.
Puck nodded and opened the door slowly, tilting his head like he heard something. “Damn it,” he sighed, taking the keys out of the door and hopping down the front steps.
“Now what?” Kurt asked, following as Puck loped around to the back of the house. He began to understand when he heard a soft crying coming from the doors to the storm cellar, which was padlocked.
Puck tried a few keys again before he got this one to unlock and then threw the doors wide open. “Hello?” he cried down into the dark cellar. “Quinn? Are you down here?”
A baby’s wail broke the silence and someone larger moved, putting herself into the light coming down from the doors and looking up at them, a toddler in her arms.
“Puck?” the woman asked, confusion etched on her face as she carefully climbed the stairs up into the sunlight. Beneath the dirt on her face and her mussed up hair, she was elegant and classically beautiful. “You don’t … Where’s John? He was supposed to be back at dawn to let us out. Where did he…?”
“Quinn,” Puck breathed, giving her a hand and helping her up the last few steps. “Lodes is dead. My friend Kurt killed him for us.”
Quinn turned, as if seeing Kurt for the first time and nodded, tears springing to her eyes. “I’d say thank you, but I don’t know … I mean … What am I going to do now?”
“You’re free, Quinn,” Puck said, but his eyes were fixed on the child in her arms. He was cute, with dark hair and dark eyes, and the resemblance to Puck was uncanny. “Can I have him?”
“Sure,” Quinn nodded, handing the baby to his father. “His name is Noah.”
“Who called him that?” Puck asked in surprise, smiling at the kid and then making a funny face at him. The boy didn’t laugh.
Quinn shook her head, as if clearing out the cobwebs, and shrugged. “Some wolf named Rachel. She was his mom, I guess, before she died.”
Puck nodded again, smiling when the kid loosened up and grabbed his nose. "Where Dada?" he asked and Puck's face fell.
"He thinks Lodes is his dad?" Puck cried, looking up at Quinn who confirmed his suspicion by nodding.
"He thinks I'm his mom," Quinn sighed, leading the way around the house and into it. "Let me pack a few things."
She seemed so matter-of-fact and less than eager to get away. What, was she brain-washed? Inside the house was surprisingly well-kept. The kitchen sparkled, the living room was rural-looking but uncluttered, the bedroom where Quinn packed her things was bright and obviously where Lodes slept as well. And the baby's room was amazing. Toys, clothes, bright colors everywhere.
When Quinn finished packing, she gave the bags to Kurt and took one final look around. "He's really dead?" Puck nodded and Quinn looked up at the sky as if to keep herself from crying. "I know this isn't ... I mean ... God, I feel so wrong, but I'm going to miss him. He loved me. He said he was going to keep breeding me with you so we'd have a big, happy family. He made love to me every day, even though I'm getting fat with pups."
"He was a bad man," Kurt said softly. "I'm sorry, but he was a bad man. The things he did to me ... did to us..."
Quinn nodded, crying into one hand as Kurt gently led her out to the truck. "Is anyone else here?" Quinn shook her head, so Kurt helped her up into Lodes’ truck, settling her in the middle seat while Puck and his son took the far seat. “Let’s get you guys back where you belong.”
Chapter 6
Previous Chapter
Chapter 5
This morning, this beautiful morning, when Kurt woke up it was mid-morning, someone was pounding on his door, and human-Puck was asleep next to him in the bed, wrapped in the sheets and sort of spread-eagled in comfort. He wasn’t stirring with the noise from the other room, so Kurt let him be, wrapping his robe around himself and going to answer the door.
“You’re actually here?” a voice cried when he opened the door to Finn’s surprised, joyful face. “Dude, we’ve been looking everywhere for you. Mom even called the cops. Where did you go?”
Not really thinking, Kurt lied and said, “Atlantic City. Sorry, Finn. I thought I left a message, but I met this guy and …” What was he going to say? That he was kidnapped by a man and raped by a werewolf, who was now sleeping off a murder spree in his bed? Why would anyone believe that? Kurt barely believed it and he'd lived through it. If he told Finn Kurt knew he would just be accused of making things up to avoid telling the truth - what truth, Kurt didn't know, but he knew he couldn't tell Finn what had actually happened.
“God, Kurt,” Finn rolled his eyes. “We were worried sick! Guess I should call the cops and let them know you’re okay.”
“Yeah,” Kurt said, “you do that.” He tried to close the door, but Finn was already slipping inside, phone to his ear and heading for Kurt’s fridge.
“Detective Kerns?” Finn asked, taking a soda and returning to the living room. “Yeah, it’s Finn Hudson. I found my brother. He got home late last night, it looks like.” Finn leaned over so he could see into the bedroom and Kurt tried to get in the way, but Finn must have seen Puck, because he raised an eyebrow at Kurt as he replied to the detective, “Atlantic City… Yeah, I know … Okay … Thanks for all your help, man. I really appreciate it. I’ll see you when you get here. Bye!”
“When he gets here?” Kurt asked, wrapping his robe tighter around himself and wondering what a trained professional might see if he came into this apartment and had a look around. “Why?”
“There’s a missing person's report,” Finn pointed out, flopping down on the couch and opening his soda before taking a long gulp. “Guy’s gotta see you with his own eyes before he closes the case.”
“Ah,” Kurt nodded. “Well, I should get dressed…”
“You okay?” Finn asked, really looking Kurt in the eye. Oh, God. What did he see there? Could he tell what Kurt had been through? “You look like you’ve had a rough couple of days.”
Kurt laughed. “Yeah. Yeah, I have. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Retreating into the bedroom, Kurt closed the door behind him. Puck was still asleep, spread out like he hadn’t a care in the world, and Kurt really hated to do it, but he had to wake the guy up. Lying down next to him on the bed, Kurt carefully started stroking Puck’s hair, front to back and down his neck several times until he woke up.
Blinking a few times, Puck’s face spread in a slow smile as he met Kurt’s eyes and murmured, “Hey.”
Unable to keep himself from returning the smile, Kurt grinned, “Hey, yourself. How’d it feel, sleeping in a bed for a change?”
“Awesome,” Puck replied, snuggling deeper into Kurt’s pillow and sighing. It looked like he belonged there.
“Listen,” Kurt said, petting Puck again. “My step-brother is here and a police detective is coming to talk to us. I told them we were in Atlantic City together for the past four days. On the trip back, we lost our IDs, okay?”
“Did we drive?” Puck asked, rolling over too look up at Kurt. “Or what?”
“We drove,” Kurt nodded. “We took your car, since mine’s parked downtown somewhere and I have to go find it. We also need to find you some clothes that fit.”
“Shit,” Puck sighed, looking down at his body. “I haven’t worn clothes in six years. It’s gonna feel weird, like all constricting on my junk.”
Kurt laughed and squeezed Puck’s shoulder before getting up and looking through his closet. “Here,” he said, pulling out a few things. “I got these pants from Carole and they’re too big, so they’ll probably fit you alright. And this is my college sweatshirt. Practically one-size fits all. I won’t subject you to boxer briefs.”
Puck laughed again and rolled his neck as he got up, cracking the joints and then stretching full-out. God, he had a nice body. It was easier to appreciate now that Kurt was home and safe and Kurt felt his cock stirring a little in interest. Sniffing the air deeply, Puck turned to look at Kurt and raised an eyebrow, “Really?”
“What?” Kurt replied, blushing as he stalked over to his wardrobe to find something suitable to wear in front of a police detective.
Puck shook his head and picked up the clothes, asking, “Could I take a shower? Haven’t had a warm one in-”
“Six years,” Kurt finished for him. “Yeah, go ahead.” He didn’t realize that Puck would leave the bedroom, still limping a little, and greet Finn without at least wrapping a towel around his waist. Kurt rushed after him and pushed Puck into the bathroom, blushing as he turned to Finn, “I’m sorry about that. He’s got some boundary issues.”
“Yeah,” Finn replied with a confused, but happy grin. “Can’t say I blame you for hooking up with him, though. That must have been a fun trip!”
“Not really, no,” Kurt sighed, shaking his head when Finn’s expression asked for an explanation. “I’ll finish getting dressed now.”
**88**
Things with the detective went better than Kurt expected - apparently nineteen-year-olds went “missing” fairly often and almost always turned up after a few days spent partying and getting laid - and he found out that Puck’s real name was Noah Puckerman. The detective didn’t even write it down before he went back to work. Finn left, too, saying, “You have to go to the house, like now, dude. Mom and Burt are waiting for you.”
“I’ll go,” Kurt promised. “I just have to go get my car first. It won’t take me long.”
Finn nodded and waved goodbye, shaking Puck’s hand now that he was dressed and giving Kurt a hard look to remind him of his promise.
“I suppose,” Puck muttered, rubbing the back of his head, “I should get out of your way, too. I mean, I could probably call my pack and get them to come get me, or at least talk to me for starters.”
“I have a better idea,” Kurt said, picking up Lodes’ wallet and keys. “I think we should go find Lodes’ house and whoever he’s got stashed there before the cops find his body and start poking around.”
“Quinn,” Puck breathed, nodding quickly. “She should still be alive, not due for another six months. We can save her and my pup.”
“Yes we can,” Kurt smiled. Going back into his closet, he found an old pair of sneakers that were fairly worn and stretched out, so he gave those to Puck along with a pair of socks. “Let’s move.”
Before they could get out the door, however, Puck asked, “Do you have, like a raw steak or something? I’m starving, man.”
Kurt shook his head and went to the freezer. It wasn’t like he was going to eat this steak after hearing Puck talk about eating people and seeing the carnage his wolf-teeth could dole out first hand.
**88**
Kurt parked Lodes’ truck outside the dead man’s house and got out, Puck a half a step ahead of him. The werewolf took a deep breath of the air and Kurt shivered. He liked human-Puck a lot, maybe even more than a lot, but wolf-Puck still unnerved him despite that.
Taking another sniff of air, Puck nodded, “She’s here. Or at least, she’s been here recently.”
“Have you ever been here?” Kurt asked, following Puck, who was still limping a little, toward the front door of the little farm house.
“A long time ago,” Puck nodded, “when I was first caught. He tortured me in there,” Puck pointed to a detached garage with fading white paint. Then, he tried the front door of the house and found it unlocked. “Gimme the keys.”
Kurt didn’t want to argue with a werewolf trying to find his kids, so he handed the keys over, looking around and generally keeping watch as Puck tried a few keys before finding the one that worked the lock. “Be careful,” Kurt hissed. The house was probably empty, or at least harmless, but Kurt had lived in a small town long enough to know that some of the crazies liked to booby-trap their houses.
Puck nodded and opened the door slowly, tilting his head like he heard something. “Damn it,” he sighed, taking the keys out of the door and hopping down the front steps.
“Now what?” Kurt asked, following as Puck loped around to the back of the house. He began to understand when he heard a soft crying coming from the doors to the storm cellar, which was padlocked.
Puck tried a few keys again before he got this one to unlock and then threw the doors wide open. “Hello?” he cried down into the dark cellar. “Quinn? Are you down here?”
A baby’s wail broke the silence and someone larger moved, putting herself into the light coming down from the doors and looking up at them, a toddler in her arms.
“Puck?” the woman asked, confusion etched on her face as she carefully climbed the stairs up into the sunlight. Beneath the dirt on her face and her mussed up hair, she was elegant and classically beautiful. “You don’t … Where’s John? He was supposed to be back at dawn to let us out. Where did he…?”
“Quinn,” Puck breathed, giving her a hand and helping her up the last few steps. “Lodes is dead. My friend Kurt killed him for us.”
Quinn turned, as if seeing Kurt for the first time and nodded, tears springing to her eyes. “I’d say thank you, but I don’t know … I mean … What am I going to do now?”
“You’re free, Quinn,” Puck said, but his eyes were fixed on the child in her arms. He was cute, with dark hair and dark eyes, and the resemblance to Puck was uncanny. “Can I have him?”
“Sure,” Quinn nodded, handing the baby to his father. “His name is Noah.”
“Who called him that?” Puck asked in surprise, smiling at the kid and then making a funny face at him. The boy didn’t laugh.
Quinn shook her head, as if clearing out the cobwebs, and shrugged. “Some wolf named Rachel. She was his mom, I guess, before she died.”
Puck nodded again, smiling when the kid loosened up and grabbed his nose. "Where Dada?" he asked and Puck's face fell.
"He thinks Lodes is his dad?" Puck cried, looking up at Quinn who confirmed his suspicion by nodding.
"He thinks I'm his mom," Quinn sighed, leading the way around the house and into it. "Let me pack a few things."
She seemed so matter-of-fact and less than eager to get away. What, was she brain-washed? Inside the house was surprisingly well-kept. The kitchen sparkled, the living room was rural-looking but uncluttered, the bedroom where Quinn packed her things was bright and obviously where Lodes slept as well. And the baby's room was amazing. Toys, clothes, bright colors everywhere.
When Quinn finished packing, she gave the bags to Kurt and took one final look around. "He's really dead?" Puck nodded and Quinn looked up at the sky as if to keep herself from crying. "I know this isn't ... I mean ... God, I feel so wrong, but I'm going to miss him. He loved me. He said he was going to keep breeding me with you so we'd have a big, happy family. He made love to me every day, even though I'm getting fat with pups."
"He was a bad man," Kurt said softly. "I'm sorry, but he was a bad man. The things he did to me ... did to us..."
Quinn nodded, crying into one hand as Kurt gently led her out to the truck. "Is anyone else here?" Quinn shook her head, so Kurt helped her up into Lodes’ truck, settling her in the middle seat while Puck and his son took the far seat. “Let’s get you guys back where you belong.”
Chapter 6