Blaine knew this was ridiculous. He knew he was ridiculous- if not clinically insane- and he knew his motives were ridiculous. Nobody takes him seriously. Why, though? He was a freaking private school boy with massive amounts of hair gel. Didn't that stereotype count for something? Like, maybe, intelligence?

It was immensely annoying- a room of comatosed people shouting for a doctor, despite being- oh, I don't know- comatosed? Some sort of weird biological anomaly, and yet, the doctor couldn't even be bothered to glance at Blaine's phone. Not for a single second. A single second that would have made him seem a hell of a lot less insane.

He was still taking pictures. He feared people were really going to start dismissing him as a creeper. But even if he knew no one would ever take a second look at these, it was almost like he was reassuring himself the man he saw at the hospital, lying unconscious on a hospital cot, was actually standing a few feet away from him.

But suddenly, his train of thought diminished as he was pushed to the ground, an unidentified man ripping his phone out of his hand. He fell with a distinguishing thump, and he knew that he'd get up to discover grass stains on his last good uniform. It was only his luck.

Before Blaine could say anything, the man started talking, gesturing to Blaine with the phone. He sounded like he was giving Blaine some sort of lecture after randomly stealing his phone. It was actually immensely confusing, really. "The sun's going out, and you're photographing a man and a dog. Why?"

Blaine cautiously picked himself off the ground, brushing dirt of his uniform pants without taking his suspicious eyes of the man. When he stood up, he found Kurt right next to him, leading to an uneven gasp.

Was he dreaming? He really needed to stop devouring those tempting Red Vines before bed. It had to be getting to him.

He curiously eyed Kurt and his lack of extravagant clothes. More importantly, the police costume that made up for Marc Jacob's latest.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked, raising a thick and accusing eyebrow at his sudden, unexpected, and out-of-character appearance.

"Oh, uh, this is Blaine." Kurt said, lamely smiling at the man who was fidgeting with Blaine's phone. "A… friend."

"Boyfriend." Blaine corrected. Who was Kurt trying to impress and more importantly, why?

"Yeah, that." Kurt said, looking to the sky awkwardly, even if he was the only one experiencing this severe awkwardness. "Whatever."

The man in front of them clapped his hands impatiently to catch their attention. "Come on, man and dog, why?"

"Kurt, what is up with your… uhm… outfit?" Blaine asked, inviting himself to pull the plastic badge off Kurt's costume and turn it around in his hands as he smugly smiled at Kurt's embarrassment.

Kurt's cheeks colored and he swatted Blaine's hand away. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Sorry, but, is that my Halloween costume, Kurt?" Blaine asked, looking greatly amused.

"Maybe." Kurt muttered. "Maybe not."

"Come on!" The man shouted, "Man and dog! Why?"

Blaine regarded the man for a quick moment, and he swore he recognized him- the unkempt hair that fell in his face, the torn blue shirt. Something clicked in Blaine's brain, and he gasped.

"Oh my God! Kurt- is that-?" Blaine started.

"Answer his question, Blaine." Kurt hissed through his teeth.

Blaine laughed. "I'm not imagining this, am I? Is he The Raggedy Doctor? From those stories? Oh my God, this is the most elaborate Red Vine dream I think I've ever had."

Kurt uncomfortably rubbed his neck, looking away, trying to avoid eye contact with The Doctor. Kurt didn't question Blaine's comment about the Red Vines, Blaine tended to make weird statements like that when he let his mask of dapper melt away.

"Uhm, yeah. He came back."

"Kurt!" Blaine shouted excitedly. "I told you so!"

Kurt turned to glare at him. "Thanks." He muttered sarcastically.

Blaine dismissed Kurt's glares. "Is he like, magic, still? Okay, that sounded stupid. But you know what I mean."

"Blaine," Kurt started, "I really-"

"Man and dog!" The man shouted, grabbing Blaine by the collar of his Dalton uniform, pulling the shorter boy up so he was on his toes. "Why?"

"Because he can't be there," Blaine explained hastily, "Because he's-

"In a hospital," They both said at the same time, "In a coma."

"Uh, yeah. That." Blaine mumbled nervously.

The man dropped his collar, straightening it out as he shook his head, talking to himself. "Knew it. Multiform, you see. Disguise itself as anything, but it needs a life feed, a physic link with a living, but dormant, mind."

"I…" Blaine mumbled, at a loss for words as he turned to Kurt. "Was- was that supposed to make sense?"

Kurt squeezed his forearm, sympathetic for his confusion. "It's okay. He's been doing that quite a bit."

Kurt's grip on Blaine's forearm suddenly grew much stronger the second there was a dog bark from behind them. Blaine wondered what was making him so unrealistically jumpy, it was just a dog.

Blaine took that thought back immediately when he saw it. Blaine didn't shake off the boy clutching his forearm for dear life, even though the boy was practically cutting off his circulation with his freakishly sharp nails. Blaine watched the supposedly comatosed man he recognized all to dangerously well bark at them, grinding his teeth and hissing as the dog sat by his side, innocent and uninterested.

The Doctor scoffed, turning around and facing the man and his dog like one might do in an old western movie. He shoved his hands in his pockets, confident. "Prisoner Zero," He addressed him, staring him down.

"Wait-" Blaine whispered to Kurt, "There's a Prisoner Zero, too?"

Blaine hated to be hypocritical. But right now, he was honestly wondering if this was a dream. Like he was bound to wake up any moment, and in an hour, he'd be laughing about it with Kurt… right?

"Yes." Kurt said grimly.

Blaine stared at the man and his dog. He seemed so normal, a sort a mechanic-looking man with a stubborn, wrinkled face hanging onto the leash of a somewhat bored-looking dog. Then he started barking and it was all just unreal.

"Blaine," Kurt whispered, nudging Blaine with his elbow. Blaine followed Kurt's eyes to where they stared fearsomely at the sky, and suddenly, his breath caught.

Too many Red Vines… God, Blaine, never, ever eat those things again.

It was like a giant snowflake in the sky, a huge, metal ship, glimmering in the light of the demented sun. It was rather lovely, all except with the looming feeling of something out of place- and of course, the huge, moving blue eye in the dead center of the thing, scoping the ground with a pale white skylight of sorts.

"See, that ship up there is scanning the area for non-terrestrial technology," The Doctor said, facing off with the man/dog. "And nothing says non-terrestrial like a sonic screwdriver."

The Doctor proudly aimed the lit screwdriver at the sky, immediately leading to street lamps on the corner of the street exploding into a mess of yellow sparks, like fireworks, and car alarms frantically going off. The ominous peace of the park turned dramatically into a field of raucous and screaming citizens with that simple notion. Kurt made a tiny screech, burring his face into the shorter boy's uniform-clad shoulder, and Blaine squeezed the boy's shoulder in support, pretending like he wasn't as freaked as Kurt was.

"I think someone's gonna notice," The Doctor stated, shouting over the chaos. All Blaine could see was the man growling in frustration, his teeth furiously mashed as though the ship in the sky was posing the threat that was to be naively assumed. "Don't you?"

The man barked. Blaine felt a violent shiver up his spine.

The Doctor smirked, tilting his hand, intentional or not was to be considered, until the screwdriver was directed to a phone box, which erupted into a plume of energetic sparks, causing Kurt to flinch unnaturally quick, looking up from Blaine's shoulder and biting down dangerously hard on his lip.

The screwdriver itself turned to sparks in a moment, The Doctor cringing as these sparks sweetly landed on his baby blue shirt. He dropped the screwdriver, or rather, threw it to the ground. Kurt and Blaine backed up, dodging sparks.

"No, no, no, no!" He shouted, kneeling on the ground as he turned the burnt stick of metal around in his hand, smacking it into the ground. "No, don't do that!"

Kurt cautiously let go of Blaine's hand, nearing the man, his head turning in circles as he tried to watch the Doctor and the ship leave at the skies.

"No, come back, he's here!" The Doctor screamed, throwing his hands in the air. Blaine bit his tongue, not because he was trying to hold back any words. Just because he figured if he sparked blood, he'd wake up. "Come back! He's here! Prisoner Zero is here!" He shouted, frustrated.

Kurt was occupied with consoling The Doctor, leaving Blaine to glare. His breath caught as the man with the dog smiled, a sort of devious smile you only saw in horror movies. Like a Freddy Kruger kind of smirk, taunting Blaine so he'd walk in for the kill…

Blaine gripped his mop of gelled curls, looking away as he bit down harder on his tongue. Pain ceased to exist when he needed it most.

The Doctor was still shouting words, but they didn't really have any meaning anymore, just a jumbled mess of frustrated syllables.

Blaine wished he never turned around. He knew he'd never forget what he saw right then.

If he'd saw it in a movie, he would have laughed and dismissed it as bad animation. But it was real. Ten feet away from him, the man and his dog fell into a million pieces, disappearing into a mist of color and falling down the sewer grate with the wind.

"K-Kurt?" He shouted, wagging his finger at whatever he just witnessed, "Kurt d-did you see that?"

"See what?" Kurt asked, looking to Blaine's fearful face.

"It- it melted… it just melted and went down the drain," Blaine whispered.

The Doctor looked at Blaine, dropping his hands to his sides in sheer frustration. "Well, of course it did!"

"What do we do now?" Kurt shouted.

"It's hiding in human form, we need to drive it into the open… no Tardis, no screwdriver…" He contemplated, looking a tad defeated. "Seventeen minutes… come on… think, think!"

Kurt backed away, letting The Doctor think as he said he needed to. He squeezed Blaine's shoulder, who was nearly paralyzed in his confusion, and most likely a good deal of fear.

Blaine unconsciously neared the grate, and Kurt followed, squeezing the boy's hand in comfort.

Kurt let his fingers run across the susceptibly dirty grate. He looked back to The Doctor.

"So, that thing…" He asked, "That thing, it hid in my house for twelve years?"

"Multiforms can live for millenniums." He stated, expressionless, from behind them. "Twelve years is a pit stop."

"So how come the same day that thing did… the same minute?" Kurt asked, accusing.

"They were looking for him, but they followed me, they saw me through the crack I couldn't fix, they're only late 'cause I am." He said, leaving Kurt confused.

"What is he-" Blaine began, before The Doctor cut him off.

"Private school boy, give me your phone back." The Doctor demanded.

"Kurt, how is he real?" Blaine asked, looking at Kurt with the sorrowful look of an upset kindergartener, his eyes wide and confused. "I thought- I thought he was just a story."

"Phone, now! Gimme!" The Doctor repeated, and Blaine handed his phone over to the outstretched hand with no regrets.

"That's not what you said." Kurt accused. "You said you thought he was real."

"Well, I mean… I don't know. It's easier said than done, right?" Blaine mumbled, playing with his fingers. "Is this a prank? Or some sort of test of courage? Because Kurt, I'm scared."

Kurt uncomfortably swallowed. Kurt was supposed to be the one telling Blaine how scared he was, not the other way around.

"I don't know, Blaine… I just… I don't." Kurt admitted.

"These photos, their all the coma patients?" The Doctor said, scrolling through the pictures on Blaine's phone, interrupting Kurt and Blaine's "moment."

"Yes," Blaine said halfheartedly.

"No, they're the multiform. Just disguises for Prisoner Zero." The Doctor corrected.

"He had a dog, though, is there a dog in a coma?" Kurt asked, trying to prove this man's theory wrong.

"Well, if the coma patient dreams he has a dog, Prisoner Zero gets a dog." He stated. Then he looked Kurt, gasping at his new wonderful idea. "Laptop!"

"Your friend! What was his name…" The Doctor asked. "Not this one," he said, waving at Blaine, "the good looking one."

"Oh, thanks." Blaine muttered.

"Uhm, Finn?"

"Oh, thanks,"

"It was Finn or Puck."

"Oh, you are freaking kidding."

"Oh, he had a laptop, this big laptop! I need Finn's laptop!" The Doctor exclaimed. "You two, get to the hospital, get everyone out of there, clear the whole ward, phone me when you're done!"

The Doctor ran off in the other direction before Kurt could ask any questions. He looked to Blaine, who'd seemed to regain his cool.

"Your car, com'mon," Kurt said, pulling on his shoulder.

"But we can't do that! You don't just go to a hospital and tell them to evacuate!" He shouted, but Kurt ran to Blaine's truck, ignoring him. "Kurt!"

He figured he had no choice, and ran after the stubborn boy. Kurt pulled him into the car, chanting for him to hurry as he sped down the road to the hospital.

"Puck… I don't know if we should… you know… be doing this…" Finn complained, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and trying to hide the blush on his cheeks.

"Why?" Puck taunted, "Mommy wouldn't like it?"

"No… it's just… I have a girlfriend…" He protested.

"Yes, you do. I dated Rachel, once, too, you know. I made out with, like, ninety chicks, and she never found out, did she? So looking at a bikini or two isn't gonna kill you. All you ever do is goddamn worry. Calm down for a minute, dude, and enjoy what Rachel doesn't have."

Finn's cheeks colored darker as Puck scrolled through the images, and watched Puck laugh, trying to avert his eyes from the computer screen. "Ha! Okay, so I guess that's a little less than a bikini!"

"Ha…" Finn muttered, "Yeah…"

Puck, that looked as though his eyes would have been permanently glued to the computer screen if he hadn't been distracted, suddenly looked up when the door flew open, crashing against the wall.

"Hello! Laptop, gimme!" The man standing under the door shouted, standing dramatically in the door frame before he snatched the computer right out of Puck's hands.

"What the hell?" Puck shouted at the man as he sat on the bed.

"Are we being, like, mugged?" Finn asked, worrisome, backing up against the bedframe.

"Shut up, you idiot!" Puck screamed in frustration, standing up on the bed as he pulled violently on the man's shoulder. The man looked behind him, stopping his pounding on the keyboard, raising an eyebrow that said, do you really want to do that?

"Stop that." The man instructed, looking sort of pissed.

"What the hell are you doing? Get out! Give me my goddamn computer!" He screamed, punching the man's back.

"Wait, Puck!" Finn shouted, grabbing Puck so he couldn't further harm the man who'd turned around from the screen again, giving him a questioning look as he mouthed, 'Ow!'

"What?" Puck snapped, pushing Finn off him so Puck's hopeless punching on the man's back turned to a wrestle with Frankinteen.

"Hey!" Finn yelled, pushing Puck back. "That's Kurt's friend, I think! Now stop freaking out!"

Puck stopped, panting a bit as he scanned the man, folding his arms over his chest. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "You're right."

"What are you doing?" Finn mumbled, sounding like he was trying to ration with the man as though he was a child.

"The suns gone all weird, so that means, somewhere, right now, there's gonna be a big ol' video conference call." He explained, and glared at the screen a moment more, before adding, "Is this really what teenage boys do together? This is horrifying."

Finn's cheeks flushed.

"All the experts in the world are going to be panicking," he continued, pounding on the laptop keys, opening weird screens on the computed and writing codes that suggested he was hacking something of some sort. Finn had seen it done in movies before. "And do you know what they need?"

The Doctor stared at them, smug, waiting for them to ask, who?, but they answered with rapid blinking, trying to keep up with what he was saying so he finished with, "Me."

"Ah!" He exclaimed, pointing to the words on the blue windows on the computer screen. "And here they all are! All the big boys… NASA, Tokyo Space Station, Patrick Moore."

"Who's Patrick Moore?" Finn wondered aloud, and Puck smacked him on the back of his head, despite not translating a word this man was saying, either.

"You can't just hack in on a call like that." Puck accused.

"You can't drive off with an ATM in the back of your truck, either." Finn muttered sarcastically. "I guess we're just defying gravity here, aren't we?"

Puck shot him a death glare, but Finn just scoffed and looked away.

Puck stared at the screen, wide-eyed, as an array of faces lit up his computer screen. The man held a badge to the camera, and the various faces nodded on screen. Finn literally gasped, like a little girl.

"This is a secure call, what are you doing here?" A man on the computer complained. Puck and Finn glanced at each other- God, he really did just hack a call on NASA, didn't he?

"Yeah, I know, you should switch me off," The Doctor said knowingly, "But before you do, watch this."

The Doctor began to pound on keys again. Isn't this illegal?

Finn heard something about a theorem. A lot of really big words come out of this man's mouth- and not even stuff like quantum physics and construction of matter- a lot of weird words he hadn't even heard his science teacher murmur before. He rambled on for a moment about diagrams and proof about this and that and this. In all honesty, Finn just dismissed his ramblings as a foreign language. But then there was something about, "Oh, a goody, why electrons have mass," which Finn could slightly recall from seventh grade science classes he'd mostly slept through, so he must have been speaking English.

It was all very confusing. But it was really okay, because he ended with, "And a joke!"

"Look at your screens, wherever you are," He continued, now speaking more legible words that were up for interpretation. "Just look at it, I'm a genius. You know you need all the help you can get. Now, fellas, pay attention."

"Blaine!" Kurt screamed, smashing his palm against the dashboard in anticipation.

"What?" Blaine snapped, glaring at the stubborn red lights in front of him. He had no idea what he was doing. He hadn't had coffee this morning. He was still convinced he was dreaming. Overall, he wasn't in the best mood, and the Kurt who'd swallowed a bag of jumping beans somewhere between the park and the car certainly wasn't helping.

"That coat! That ugly brown peacoat you keep in the backseat! I need it!" Kurt shouted.

Blaine jerked the car forward as the light changed, causing both of their heads to slam against the back of the seat. "God, Blaine! You're going to get us killed! Slow down!"

"Okay!" Blaine shouted. "Yes, and, yeah, just go get the coat or whatever."

"Thanks! Thank you so much!" Kurt worshiped, unbuckling as he climbed into the back of the car.

In the freaking middle of traffic.

"Why do you need it?" Blaine asked out of curiosity, though, mostly to distract him from the problem at hand. Alien invasions and lost childhood dreams and impatient Kurt's and-

"Blaine! Hurry up, at this pace the world will be over by the time we reach the next turn!"

Neither of them was doing very well at this given moment in time.

Blaine's eyebrows rose dramatically in frustration. He tried to ignore the fact Kurt was crawling around his cramped car, looking for a stupid coat.

"And I need it because I feel like an idiot in this thing." Kurt explained, plopping in the back seat of the car as he found the coat under the seat.

"Kurt! You just told me the world is ending in fifteen minutes and you're worried about a goddamn coat?" Blaine fumed.

"Sorr-rey." Kurt complained. "I'll give you a kiss of the cheek later, if that's what you want."

The eternal screaming of Blaine droned on.

"Excuse me, sir, what are you doing?" A man on the computer screen questioned.

The Doctor lamely looked up from the phone he was rapidly testing on, noting the people on the computer as though he'd just noticed they were there.

"I am writing a computer virus." He stated.

What? Is this for real? Puck wondered. A man… broke into my house with Kurt, a gay guy in Glee who probably checks out my ass when I'm not looking… said some stuff that sounded terribly perverted… ran off… broke in again, alone… looked like he was going to jump me for a minute there… stole my laptop and my sexy ladies… hacked into a private call between NASA and the government… and ripped a cell phone out of his pocket and started writing a computer virus.

Puck was still waiting for the trolls with blue afros to jump out and start paying his mom's unpaid taxes. Finn looked sort of like he was expecting the same thing, more or less, except he refused to close his mouth, looked like an idiot, and Puck swore he just saw a bug fly right in there.

"Very clever, super-fast, and a tiny bit of lies- and why am I writing it on a phone?" The Doctor continued, asking the questions for them in a sort of arrogant way. "You'll find out!

"Okay, I'm sending this to all your computers. Get everyone who works for you sending this everywhere- E-mail, Facebook, text, Twitter, radar. Whatever you've got. Any questions?"

Yes.

"What exactly does this virus do?"

The man said something again about resetting counters and Wi-Fi. How it'd make stuff turn to zeros. Puck's brain was starting to cramp, and you could practically hear the gears straining to move in Finn's head.

"But yeah, I could be lying. So why trust me?" The Doctor asked.

Puck looked to The Doctor, waiting to hear the explanation for this one.

"I'll let my best men explain." He stated. Both Puck and Finn stood still, waiting for said 'best men.'

"You two," he whispered cautiously to the two boys, looking away from the camera to them. Puck would have sworn he'd forgotten them until now. "You're my best men."

Finn's eyes went wide. "What?" He hissed, mimicking the man's hushed tone.

The Doctor lowered the lid of the computer, turning to them.

Whoa, this guy just excused himself from a freaking call he hacked. He means goddamn business.

"Listen to me," He said, standing up so he could put an arm over both of their shoulders in support. "In ten minutes, you two are going to be legends. In ten minutes, anyone on that screen will offer you any job you want. But first, you have to be magnificent. You have to make them trust you and get them working. This is it, boys, right here, right now."

The man stretched a dramatic hand in front of them, as if gesturing to the future or some other greatness. "This is when you fly. Today is the day you save the world."

Finn looked at this man, almost untrusting, doubting the ability of himself to match up to the greatness this man described. "Why us?"

"It's your bedroom." He suggested, shrugging as he patted them both on the back. "So, go! On with it, boys!"

The man dashed out of the room with pristine precision, avoiding all unasked questions and other obstacles.

Puck and Finn stared at the laptop sitting on the bed as though it posed a threat. Puck was the one who broke the tense atmosphere after a moment, grabbing Finn's shoulder and squeezing it. He closed his eyes as he murmured, as the fate of the world rested on this question.

"Finn, you think NASA can provide me with a mob of Playboy bunnies who will follow me at my every whim?"

Finn bit his lip, thinking this through. After a few seconds, he nodded.

"Then let's do this crap!" Puck chanted, opening the laptop, sitting down on the bed as he placed it on his lip. Finn looked over his shoulder, kneeling behind him.

"Oh! And boys!"

Puck and Finn looked to the man, standing again in the door. "Yeah?" Puck asked.

"Delete your Internet history."

Goal: To get to the coma ward. From there, get everyone evacuated, even if it means posing a homicidal rage. Or something like that.

Motivation: Still not quite sure. Something to do with the world ending in twelve minutes.

Obstacle: Groups of doctors freaking out. Yellow caution tape blocking the stairs. A screaming woman and a guard blocking the elevator. No one's getting anywhere, and the security guards are making this painfully clear.

How to defeat said obstacle: Figure it out as you go.

"My, uh, my mom! My mom is in the coma unit, I think, sir." Blaine frantically explained, running a stressed hand through his gelled-down curls.

The nurse who'd just stopped short with the sight of Blaine gave him a sympathetic look, pressing a clipboard to his chest. "I'm sorry, but something is going on upstairs. The doctors can't tell me-"

"Please!" Kurt begged, grabbing the man's forearm so he couldn't walk away. "Please, sir, we saw this thing outside. My friend here, he thinks the world is going to end, and after what I just saw, I can't say I disagree. He had to see his mom again. She's been so ill, and he just has to feel her touch one more time before everything ends. Please, sir. For his mother. What harm could it possibly do to let a boy- who I should probably add has a horrendous stress disorder- see his dying mother for the last time?"

Whoa. Kurt was so good at lying, Blaine almost believed it himself.

Oh, God. And now Kurt was batting his eyelashes, striking tears in the bottom of his big ocean eyes, his bottom lip sticking out just a little bit until no living creature could beat this puppy dog face. It was adorable and awfully depressing at the same time.

The nurse looked a little concerned, and with a look at Blaine, a little skeptical. Kurt stepped on Blaine's toes, and Blaine snapped out of his Kurt-affiliated haze.

Blaine started jumping on his heels to dramatize this newfound stress disorder, fisting his hair. Kurt thought he could act? Ha.

"K-Kurt," Blaine stuttered, looking up at the ever-so-slightly taller boy with wide eyes. He drummed his fingers against his thigh. Suddenly, he looked like he downed twenty coffees to many. "Kurt, I- I need m-my mum," He stuttered, tears welling up in his voice like a kindergartener... so maybe he was being a tad melodramatic. Whatever.

Kurt rubbed Blaine's back. "I know, Blaine, calm down, you'll see her soon."

"I- I am so sorry, boys," The nurse said, looking truly concerned. "I can't let you go any further for security reasons. I mean, we wouldn't want-"

Blaine broke out into sobs.

"Oh my God, Kurt, my mom, I'm never going to see my mom again, Kurt, Kurt, never, ever, ever, again." Blaine cried, shoving his face into Kurt's shoulder. "Kurt, we're all going to die and I'm going to die never seeing my mom again-"

"Uhm, son," the nurse questioned, rubbing the back of his neck and not taking his eyes off Blaine, "he doesn't have a history with panic attacks, does he? Or is this-"

"Kurt!" Blaine screamed into Kurt's coat that smelt mysteriously like his car floor and gummy bears that you left out in the sun too long. "I'm never going to see my mom again!"

Kurt wrapped an arm around Blaine's neck, rubbing his back, but a little fierce when he said, "No, doctor, Blaine does not have a history of panic attacks and he doesn't need to undergo any medicine or anything."

Blaine caught on quick, perhaps a little too quick, because he bobbed his head up and wiped his cheek of fake tears. "No. No, I don't need-"

"Blaine." Kurt snapped. "No, you don't. Now, sir, would you please let my friend here see his mother one more time-"

"Boys, I'm sorry, I understand what's like to be away from your family in a crisis, but I can't do anything and I have to go." The nurse said, pulling his arm out of Kurt's already faltering grasp, and walking away.

Kurt glared holes into Blaine when the man had left, Blaine's face innocent and red from forced tears. "Nice going, drama queen. What was that?"

"I was acting! You said I had a stress disorder so I thought that meant-"

"But you don't just have a panic attack in the middle of a freaking hospital!" Kurt hissed. "But whatever, because I doubt he would go let us go up, anyway. Should I call him?"

Blaine rubbed a hand across his tired eyes, dramatizing his exhaustion. "Yeah, just, whatever."

"No need to be so grumpy about it."

"Sorry, I'm just, this is all so weird. I don't know what we're trying to be doing and I've been told the world is going to end in ten minutes and I have no idea whether to believe it or not. I might be a freaking nut case right now, but you can't deny I have an excuse." Blaine complained.

Kurt shrugged, a sort of apology implied with this motion. "I get it. Just… don't screw this up. Honest to God, I have no idea whether or not to believe any of this or not. I've started to fall under the notion of it, but I can't say I'm completely faithful in the idea of the world ending in ten minutes, despite the fact I just saw a man bark and an alien ship and a dream that haunted me throughout the majority of my childhood.

"Okay, I have to call him now. No time to lose over contemplating this. It's real or it's not, and if it's real, I'll just have to kill someone because I died over wondering over whether or not I'll die." Kurt said, whipping out his cell phone and dialing Blaine's number. Blaine nodded in agreement, leaning against a blue wall of the somewhat chaotic room. At least most of the chaos had been concealed to the opposite side of the wide room, where a woman was having probably a real panic attack; throwing punches at a security guard two times her size and a frustrated doctor holding her back.

Kurt sighed with relief as the phone picked up on the first ring. One less thing he had to worry about.

"Doctor, we're at the hospital and we can't get through."

"Ah, yes, let me guess- because the place is in an utter commotion over the ship that was just outside, and there is an unknown mystery haunting the upstairs, no one will let you up due to this fact. Doctors are panicking and at least one person is having a full on panic attack."

"How- how'd you know?" Kurt wondered, dumbstruck.

"The situation is rather predictable. This had happened a thousand times in human history and the always react the same way: a lack of conscious in the moment and a distinct stubbornness towards the event of their own death. Anyway, have you tried getting their sympathy? Pulled away the most vulnerable looking official and melted his heard with tears?"

"Yes," Kurt sighed. "To no avail."

"I was afraid of that. I knew it wouldn't work, so much going on right now my creativity is lacking… okay… coma unit… upstairs or downstairs?"

"Up. Two floors." Kurt responded.

"Ah… okay, that's no use. The stairs are locked off. Oh… com'mon, com'mon…"

Kurt carefully breathed into the phone, waiting patiently for an answer.

And that was when he heard the bloodcurdling scream that literally sent him jumping a foot in the air.

Of course, it was to be expected. In a situation like this, a scream like that would of occurred three minutes ago. Add to the suspense. Build tension. Kurt didn't think much of it- just dismissed it as the crazy woman across the room and her antics- until in front of his, Blaine tensed up and muttered in a short, almost silent breath. "My mom."

"What?" Kurt spluttered. "Your mom? Where is she? That was her?"

"Oh my God," Blaine murmured. "That must be her, she must of comeback already, I didn't she would- oh, and she's upstairs, Kurt, with her friend… in the coma- Kurt, she's on the same floor as that thing and she just screamed."

"Blaine, wait a second, calm down- how do you know that's your mom?" Kurt rationed, not pulling the phone away from his ear. He knew The Doctor heard every word they were saying- he must be.

"I just know." Blaine said. He didn't bother to add the fact that his mom made that exact same shriek when Blaine was fourteen and he told his father he was gay and she tried to stand up for Blaine. That same exact shriek left her lipstick-reddened lips when his hand made harsh contact with her face, and a similar sound when the man continued in his rage and smacked Blaine across the face. He didn't mention about the memories of that night that had been burned into his brain, or the memories of her scream two years later when they finally broke apart and he pushed her into a bookcase before storming out. Now wasn't the time or place to talk about this. Right now, Blaine just needed to help his mother. Because his mother only made that deafening sound in a time of crisis.

In that moment, Blaine came completely and utterly convinced the world was going to end in ten minutes if he didn't get up there. The sharp reality of the danger his mother was in hit him a tad dramatically, but he pushed through the crowds surrounding the stairs like they were nothing and ran through the neon yellow caution tape like it was the finish line of a race.

"He- he ran off." Kurt stated blankly for The Doctor, staring after the boy running up the stairs and the one or two men who had noticed him not doing anything but shouting, "Hey! Come back down!" before dismissing him.

"Well then," The Doctor said. "That was easy. A lot easier than expected, but go follow him!"

"Okay…" Kurt murmured, getting a little antsy as he saw Blaine turn the corner of the stairs, leaving his sight. "You on your way?"

"Don't worry. I've accommodated a vehicle." He said.

"Beautiful." Kurt said before snapping the phone shut, and looking both ways before he booted it up the stairs. In the midst of the commotion, only a few uncaring souls even recognized his actions.

"Blaine! Blaine, wait up!" Kurt screamed, darting up the stairs. He doubted Blaine heard anything.

Kurt barely noted his own panting as he skidded down the hallway, and came to a sudden stop when the fog of artificial cleaner and plastic rubber gloves hit him. His breath caught, and he grazed the mint blue walls, catching his breath as ungrateful memories of his father's heart attack the year before flooded his mind. The coma unit was the last thing he wanted to be familiar with, and yet, it was like coming across an old high school bully. Painfully nostalgic, and with a quick hate for the thing, once again.

"Blaine?" Kurt shouted down the long and empty hallway, his voice a little strained and quieter than before. Slowly, he walked down the ominously empty corridor. It looked like it had been hit by a tornado, papers strewn about the floor and machinery carelessly knocked to its side. Kurt felt the clichéd shiver run through him, and even though it was hot inside this coat in the spring air, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

"Blaine, where are you?" Kurt repeated.

Finally, he turned the right corner, and saw Blaine standing there, motionless and out of breath. Kurt's relief dissolved immediately, though, when he saw that he was facing off with a woman across the hallway.

He knew something was wrong. It wasn't intuition- it was obvious.

"Sir, the doctor, I think he's dead. Someone's in there, a man, a man with a dog- there's another woman in there and I think he might be hurting her." The woman spoke, her arm wrapped comfortably around another woman's shoulder. The silent woman was solemn, her head hung low, draped with dark brown curls.

"It's Prisoner Zero, right, Blaine?" Kurt whispered from behind him, nearing the boy who stood frozen in place. "I'm calling The Doctor. Prisoner Zero must be in there."

The phone rung, and Kurt tried to empathetically rub Blaine's shoulder. He didn't know why this boy was so strange all the sudden, probably shocked by the sound of his mother, but why had he stopped and why did he refuse to move?

"Are you in?" The Doctor asked as the phone picked up, sirens blaring behind him.

"Yeah." Kurt said, and Blaine looked up at him, hurt in his eyes. It was like he was waiting for something. "And I think that Prisoner Zero is, too."

"You need to get out of there!" He demanded.

"You just told us to get up! We finally got up and now-"

"Kurt," Blaine interrupted. Kurt fell silent.

"That's Prisoner Zero." Blaine whispered. "She's my mom's friend, the one in the coma."

Kurt stared at Blaine. He knew it was more than that- the pain in his eyes was more than just a fear of seeing someone he dimly knew possessed. It was pain. Not fear or shock or confusion. There was one emotion in those big hazel eyes, and it sent Kurt into a deep spiral of his own little depression for a moment there.

"And the one she has her shoulder over is my mom."