Author's Note:

Hi there everybody and thanks for your patience. Finally I can present my next chapter and I hope you like it. Let me know what you're thinking while reading it. :)

Special thanks to MissScarlett21 who inspired me to a little scene in this chapter in which Kurt talks about Blaine's eye color. I almost used your exact words, sorry for that! I hope you don't mind.

Please give me your feedback, because I'd really, really like to know what you're thinking of my story!

Thanks for all your reviews and favourites/alerts so far, you make me really happy! :)

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Kurt sat on his bed, frozen in shock and unable to think. That had been Blaine's voice. No doubt. The way he had called out his name kept repeating in Kurt's head, over and over again. He felt panic building up in his chest and couldn't stop it. What should he do? What was he supposed to do now?

At first he didn't even realize that the phone in his hand was ringing. Again. Persistent. He turned his eyes on the display and read the name but for an instant was not capable to understand who was Finn and what he should do with the ringing thing in his hand. Slowly his fingers found the right button and he raised the phone to his ear. There was a cheerful voice on the other end of the line. "Hey bro, what's up? How's your first day of school been going? You already wish to be back home?"

There was a pause and Kurt knew he should say something, but nothing would come out. His brain simply wouldn't supply any words to his mouth. "Hey Kurt? You there?", Finn asked, sounding a little anxious.

Kurt cleared his throat and willed the words out. "Blaine just called me", he told his brother, his voice no more than a whisper.

"Wahey, man! Finally!", Finn called out. "What did he say?"

"Just my name", Kurt said and his throat constricted. He collapsed backwards on his bed and was shaking with silent sobs and suddenly it was impossible to breathe. He gasped, but there simply was no air.

"Woah, woah, woah, are you crying? Kurt, talk to me!", Finn raised his voice. "Hey, is there someone with you?" Kurt shook his head and it was just when Finn asked "No?" that he realized he was supposed to speak. "I'm alone", he managed at last, choking on the words.

"No, you're not!", Finn replied firmly. "I'm with you, Kurt. And your Dalton friends are nearby. Listen to me, are you?" Finn now spoke in a calm, but insisting voice. "I want you to get up and walk around. Breathe in slowly, hold your breath and then exhale slowly. Can you do that for me?"

Kurt clung to the voice on the phone as if his life depended on it and maybe it was. He slid out of bed and got up. Hugging himself with one arm he walked over to Reeds side of the room, while trying to regain control over his breathing.

"Inhale slowly", Finn repeated. "Hold your breath, count to three, and exhale. There is no need to panic, okay? We will figure this out. You're in your room, right? Tell me what you're seeing."

"Just our stuff", Kurt answered, his voice was hoarse, but a lot calmer now. "Reed's canvas, his paint brushes..."

"Oh, he's a painter? Is he talented?"

"Very talented", Kurt confirmed and wiped at his eyes. "His paintings are incredible."

"How are you feeling now? Better?"

"Yeah, better", Kurt replied to his own surprise. "I'm sorry you caught me in this state. I was freaked out. Still am."

"Don't be sorry. Next time you're scared, I want you to call me. I'll be your personal panic fighter from now on, 'kay?" Kurt could imagine the goofy smile on Finn's face just too well, but he could also hear that his stepbrother was serious. "How do you know what to do during a panic attack?" Kurt was amazed. He'd never imagined Finn to be so knowing.

"Actually, Rachel told me. She suffers panic attacks sometimes. She told me if she ever had a panic attack in my presence, I should distract her and not leave her alone brooding with negative thoughts. It's also important to keep moving around and not to lay down. And of course the right breathing technique."

"Poor girl", Kurt said, still pacing the room. "I didn't know that about her."

"Well, yeah, she's under a lot of self-imposed pressure. Okay, now, tell me again about that weird call you got so freaked out over."

Kurt took another ragged breath before he answered. "At first there was just low breathing and I thought it was the anonymous guy, you know, the one who texted me. Then it sounded like someone was being strangled, it was Blaine! He sounded like he was gagged, he called out my name and then it was over."

"Sounds like a scene from a horror movie!", Finn said, clearly shocked.

"Is this reason enough to have a panic attack or what?", Kurt tried to joke, but his body was still trembling. "I need to do something. I need to tell someone about that call." And suddenly it occured to him what he had to do. "I'm going to Principal Walken and tell him to call the police. If he backs me up, they'll just have to believe me that something's wrong with Blaine."

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Half an hour later Kurt sat in front of Principal Walken's desk, but instead of calling the police the man had called his father, who was on loud speaker now. Kurt had repeated his story three times by now. How he believed that Blaine was in danger, that he was held prisoner somewhere by his own father and that he had tried to reach him with this call.

"This is a severe accusation", Principal Walken said, folding his hands solemnly on his desk. "Before I contact the police or Mr Anderson, I would like to hear your opinion on this, Mr Hummel."

Kurt could hear his father sigh heavily. "Are you sure it was Blaine, kid? You said the voice was muffled. How could you have recognized him?"

Kurt opened his mouth, but for a second he was too astonished by the question to speak. "It was more the tone than the voice, it was so desperate ... the way he called out my name ... I just know it was him, Dad."

"Look, this could be a cruel joke. There're a lot of people who know that Blaine has left Dalton and that you miss him. Could it be that someone just tried to scare the hell out of you?"

"No, it was real!", Kurt insisted and his face flared. "Well, okay, at first, when no one spoke, I thought it was the anonymous guy who'd texted me before, but then I swear it was Blaine's voice calling out for me."

"Wait, wait! What anonymous guy? What text?", his father demanded.

Kurt hid his hands in the sleeves of his sweater and rubbed them against each other for warmth and comfort. Why did he get the feeling like he was subject to interrogation? He didn't do anything wrong. "I got a text message last friday telling me to die", he admitted reluctantly.

He could hear his father sigh resentfully. "This is a serious matter, Kurt! I can't believe you didn't tell me about this."

"Can I see the text message, please?", Principal Walken held his hand out for Kurt's phone.

"I have deleted it", Kurt said and saw the resigned look upon the man's face. It seemed that Principal Walken wanted to believe him, but needed proof. "I'm sorry, boy, but I have to ask this", Mr Walken said with a sad headshake. "Did you really receive a call? Or did you make that up to get me to call the police, because you want information on Blaine's whereabouts?"

Kurt didn't flinch under the man's stare and without saying a word he simply handed his phone over. Principal Walken got hold of it, straightened his wire-rims and checked the list of received calls. "Okay, here is a call about half an hour ago from an unknown number", he said loudly, so Burt could hear as well. "I assume it's the call you're referring to, Kurt?"

"Yes, it is", Kurt answered stiffly. "And my brother Finn saw the text message I told you about. Ask him if you don't believe me, Dad", Kurt said to his father with a thin voice, clenching his hands into fists.

"Okay, Mr Hummel, Kurt, here's the deal." Principal Walken leaned forward in his chair and paused a minute before speaking. "You know Blaine's father is a famous lawyer and his face is a lot in the media. I have spoken to him personally a couple of times and I know he cares a great deal about his family's privacy and reputation and he doesn't want his family life to be the subject of the tabloid press. Which is why I trust in your discretion on what I am about to tell you." Over the top of his wire-rimmed glasses he studied his student. This time Kurt shifted uncomfortably under his stare. "Of course you can trust me, Principal Walken. I won't tell anyone."

"Same goes for me, Principal", his fathers voice said over the loud speaker.

"When Mr Anderson contacted me on behalf of his wish that Blaine left Dalton immediately, he confided in me that Blaine had gotten rather sick over Christmas. Apparently he suffered some kind of emotional breakdown. Unfortunately his father believes that the environment in Dalton has led to Blaine's current state of mind. As far as I know the boy is in therapy now and will most likely be home-schooled to finish his senior year."

Kurt's eyes widened at hearing this and all kinds of emotions rushed through him: disbelief, denial, fury, worry. He clenched his fists even more. "I'm sorry to hear this", his father said and sounded truly concerned.

"I suggest that I will contact Mr Anderson first and if I don't receive a satisfying answer, I will contact the youth welfare office with the plea of checking on Blaine's well-being. You must know that I care about the boy, too, even if he's no longer a Dalton student. And I will tell you immediately when I find something out about that strange call you got. Are you okay with this, Kurt?"

"Yes, thank you, Principal Walken", Kurt replied hoarsely. He was glad that he was taken serious at last, even if the principal and his father both clearly thought he was overreacting.

"Now, to another matter at hand", Mr Walken said with a sigh and addressed Kurt's father. "Mr Hummel, to be honest I'm not sure if your son is well enough to attend school. As I understand he suffered a very traumatic experience just a week ago. And I don't blame him for worrying over his friend. But I suggest you pick him up and have him stay at home for another couple of days."

"No, please, Principal Walken, I want to stay!", Kurt protested at once. "I don't deny that I am quite shaken by this call, but I am okay." He leaned towards the speaker phone. "Dad, I can really use the distraction. At home all I can do is staring at the walls and keep on worrying over ... stuff."

"Kurt", his father replied softly, "I want you to go to your room now and wait for my call. I will have a few more words with Principal Walken and then I will call you on your phone, okay?"

"Okay, Dad", Kurt sounded defeated. He stood and left the room.

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Kurt was pacing his room waiting for his father's call and worrying over Blaine's so called current state of mind. He clutched his phone to his chest and his mood was shifting between feelings of betrayal and of a helpless worry. When his phone rang, he answered immediately. "What took you so long, Dad?", he said, not caring that he sounded extremely exasperated.

"I have just talked to Finn, well, grilled him about that text message", his father replied audibly through gritted teeth. "Why didn't you tell me about that?"

"I didn't want to freak you out", Kurt answered honestly, even though he knew that these words would make his father furious.

"We've already talked about this, haven't we?" Burt fought hard to stay calm and not to scream at his son. "Kurt, no more secrets. I mean it! You're gonna tell me about stuff like this from now on. Not telling me things is as bad as lying!"

"And just why should I tell you things when you don't believe me anyway?", Kurt snarled back at him.

"What on earth does this mean?", Burt was taken aback. "I do believe you."

"No, you don't!", Kurt countered and was truly pissed off now. "Why else do you need Finn to confirm my story? Tell me, was it your intention to make me look like a liar in front of Principal Walken? Like I was just seeking attention? Because that's how I felt when you didn't back me up there!"

"Kurt ...", his father tried to interrupt him.

"No, I really want to know! Why did you have to scrutinize everything I said?", Kurt went on with hurt and anger in his voice. "Why did you have to ask if I was sure the call was from Blaine? Like I didn't recognize my boyfriend's voice! I think, you wanted him to think I'm paranoid! You want people to think I'm going nuts!"

"Kiddo, listen ..." Again Burt tried to cut in, but Kurt just raged on and so Burt decided to wait until his son had had his chance to let steam off, before having his own say on the matter.

"It's my right to be upset about this call!", Kurt explained, now panting heavily, breathless from his angry speech. "I didn't make that up! I told you it was Blaine who called me. Why can't you just simply believe me, Dad?"

Finally the boy paused, audibly needing a second to catch his breath, but Burt couldn't take the chance to speak up, because he was at a loss for words. Kurt sounded so deeply disappointed in him, that he had to take a moment to think about whether or not he truly was that much a loser of a father and how he had managed to screw up so badly with just one phone call. But then he knew Kurt didn't actually believe he would ever deceive him, he had just failed to back him up.

"And I'm not coming back home before Friday", Kurt announced in his best sulky voice. "I won't let you and Principal Walken treat me like I was insane and needed to be locked away from public!" He sat down on his bed and tried to regain control over his ragged breathing. It didn't do him no good to get this upset.

"Are you done yelling at me?" Burt asked calmly and sighed deeply before he continued. "Kurt, if you honestly think I would ever do anything to harm you, then actually you are going nuts." Burt sounded dead serious, but after a pause they both couldn't help laughing. Kurt winced at the sudden stinging pain in his chest and complained, "You don't want to hurt me? Then stop making me mad or laugh, will you?"

"No more than you drive me mad, Kurt, I promise", Burt chuckled, relieved that the fierce tension between them had vanished so easily. "Listen, I do believe you. I believe that you truly think it was Blaine who called you ..."

"That is not the same!", Kurt grumbled.

"I just think you're not thinking rationally here. Of course you aren't. Right now in your mind everything's set up for a worst case scenario. But let me help you see the possibilities ..."

"What possibilities? Why don't you see what's really happening here?" Kurt's anger returned. "Blaine's father is taking control over his life!"

"So far to me it sounds like he is taking care of his son."

"Oh please, did you get the impression that Blaine was a psycho when he was at ours? And just a few days later he needed to be taken care of? What does he need a therapy for? And in what sense is Dalton a bad place for him? Dalton is the most peaceful, friendly, open-minded school I know. They say zero tolerance bullying policy and they mean it. Blaine has never been bullied or treated in a wrong way here. And if he wasn't locked up somewhere, why doesn't he call me? Because if he was free, he would call me!"

"Calm down again, Kurt, please? You don't know what really happened to Blaine. Don't judge before you know something.

"That's the problem, Dad, I don't know anything!", Kurt replied with an exasperated sigh.

"Be patient. Principal Walken has promised to ask around for Blaine and he will let you know whatever he finds out immediately. That must be enough for now. Besides, I agreed with him that we don't talk about that strange call to anyone yet. Are you okay with this? You're not telling your friends about it?"

"Why? Because you think I'll embarrass myself by walking around and telling people that Blaine called me when so obviously I'm just imagining things?"

"Kurt, stop it, okay?" His father sounded rather tired. "Listen, is your roommate over? I want to talk to him."

"Gosh, what for?" Kurt asked annoyed. "You want to use him as another babysitter for me?"

"If you don't want me to get into my car right now and drive to Dalton to pick you up, I suggest you let me ask your roommate nicely if he was willing to keep an eye on you. Your decision."

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After talking to Kurt's father that evening, Reed was totally head over heels. "Gosh, your dad is sooo nice and sweet and caring. I wish mine would worry about me half as much as your dad worries about you."

"Don't wish for it", Kurt said, rolling his eyes. "It's straining." He was in their shared bathroom standing in front of the mirror and taking care of his bruises while Reed was leaning in the doorway, his cute strawberry blond curls falling into his eyes. "What is straining is to maintain a happy face when you don't feel like it", Reed countered and Kurt widened his eyes at him. "I'm just saying", Reed shrugged. "You think your father wants you to tell him you're fine, but actually he wants you to say how you really feel."

"Don't get me wrong, Reed. I love my dad." Kurt turned around and leaned against the washstand to look at his roommate. "That's why most of the time I try to deal with my problems on my own. He gets enough crap thrown his way already, just because of me being gay. Like abusive phone calls at the garage and hateful looks in the convenience store to mention some highlights. I just want to spare him some of it, so yeah, sometimes I tell him I'm okay when actually I'm not."

"I'm so sorry, Kurt", Reed said with a crumbled face. "I know it's none of my business and I didn't want to make you feel like you had to explain yourself."

"Well, actually, I think my dad made it your business, didn't he?", Kurt replied with a weak smile to show him that he wasn't overstepping.

"He didn't ask me to do anything I wouldn't do for you anyway", Reed said and smiled with kind brown eyes. "You're my friend and I wouldn't be any good as a friend if I didn't watch out for you."

Kurt smirked at him. "Most of the time it's me who has to watch out for you."

Again Reed made a remorseful face. "True." He moved closer and reached out to touch Kurt's arm. "Can I see the cut on your wrist? Does it still hurt?" Kurt showed him the selfmade bandage. "No, it doesn't hurt, it's just a nasty itch."

"It's my fault you cut yourself", Reed looked up at him apologetically. "I don't know why I'm always the one who screws things up. I mean Wes or you would never have let that silly vase fall down. I just need to be in a room and something like that is bound to happen!"

"Don't fret about it", Kurt soothed him and a genuine smile spread over his face. "You're just a little bit clumsy, that's all. And it's not your fault that I cut myself. Besides, thanks for not mentioning this to my dad. He wouldn't be pleased to hear that another wound has been added to my already maltreated and wretched body." Reed still felt guilty, but returned the smile.

"Oh, by the way", Reed rushed out of the bathroom and Kurt followed him. "I brought you some carrot cake and a bottle of apple juice." He presented a little plastic bag with the goodies. "You've missed dinner", Reed critizied with an raised finger and then his eyes widened in realization, "And lunch! Gosh, you must be starving! Is this enough? I can go and get you some more if you want."

"No, it's okay. I've got plenty of granola bars in my bag. Have the cake yourself. I'll take the juice, thank you." Kurt took the bottle and eyed it, musing. "You don't happen to have a straw, do you? Never mind. I can drink out of the bottle." Kurt watched his friend dig his teeth into the sweet cake and felt bad. Bad about hiding stuff from him. He wasn't actually lying to Reed, because his bag was full of granola bars, he just didn't eat them.

Kurt was aware he should be eating something, but he was too scared to. As long as he had this fierce stabbing pain in his chest whenever he tried to inhale deeply, he had this immense fear of suffocation. Even if he tried eating, his throat would close and he couldn't swallow anything except liquids. So far his body worked well with coffee and coke and apple juice. And oddly enough he didn't even feel hungry at all. So, nothing to worry about, right?

Besides, much more important was the fact that he was hiding vital info on Blaine from his friends. He wanted to tell them about Blaine's call so desperately, but then he wasn't sure how they'd react. He was afraid that they'd think he was just making it up and wouldn't believe him. If not even his dad would think it was possible that Blaine had called him ... By now he actually felt like he was going nuts, so he couldn't blame his dad for thinking the same, could he? Kurt was clutching the little juice bottle and stared out of the window into the night.

"Kurt? Hello? Are you listening?" Reed waved a hand in front of his face.

Kurt snapped back to attention. "Yes?"

Reed narrowed his eyes at him. "Are you okay? You were kind of spaced out."

"Yeah, sure, I'm okay. Sorry, what did you say?"

"I was asking if I could have a look at your bracelet. I've already noticed it yesterday. Has Blaine given it to you?"

"Yes, it was his Christmas gift for me", Kurt replied and pulled his sleeve back to show him the golden bracelet. A smile of pure admiration curled Reed's lips. "This is so beautiful, Kurt." His fingers stroked over the little engraving saying KLAINE. "You know, Blaine told me he wanted to get this for you and asked me if it was cheesy. I told him, you'd love it."

"He asked you for advice on my Christmas present?", Kurt asked, smiling.

"Yeah, he said he wanted something special, something for a lifetime, you know. To always remind you of him."

"As if I'd ever forget him", Kurt shook his head.

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Being bruised in the face had one big advantage: the teachers left him alone during class. Which was quite good, because in spite of his repeated affirmations to his dad and to the principal that he wanted to attend class, he could not concentrate on school stuff for one second. So Kurt just sat in his chair and tried to outlast while his eyes were stuck on the clock on the wall and his ears didn't hear one word of what the teacher was saying. After class he would wait until the classroom had cleared, because he didn't want to risk being nudged accidentally in the rush of students. He wore a corsage to keep his ribs in place, but every now and then it would hurt so damn much, that tears shot up into his eyes and his breath would catch and make him wish he could just die on the spot and stop feeling anything at all.

Of course he could simply to go home and let himself be pampered and spoiled by his parents, but the part of his brain in charge of responsibility wouldn't allow him doing so. It would end up with his dad staying home to watch over him and hence miss too much work hours again. Although he had promised his dad that he would lay down whenever he felt sick, he actually couldn't do so during school hours, because everybody would get worried over him which would again lead to him being sent home. So he endured classes and tried not to look as pathetic as he felt. The only mismatch to his usually appearance he allowed himself was to have his Dalton blazer unbuttoned and his striped tie hanging loose around his neck. Despite his love to always make sure his outfit was accurate and perfect, he couldn't stand his tie anymore, because it felt like it was strangling him.

On Tuesday at lunch time Kurt made sure he went to the cafeteria before his friends arrived there. He bought himself a diet coke with a straw and went to the counter where one was supposed to drop off used trays. With a quick look over his shoulder he took one tray with the remains of what looked like the chicken menu and an empty dessert bowl. Good. That'll do. He sauntered to the table at the window which his friends usually occupied and sat down, sucking on his straw and waiting. No one in the room took notice of him and his already empty plate, just like he thought no one would.

"Hey, you've already finished", Reed called out and looked utterly disappointed as he joined Kurt at the table five minutes later. "Sorry, I couldn't wait for you any longer. I was starving", Kurt said without meeting his friend's eyes. "What did you have?" Reed eyed his tray. "Chicken? Is it good?"

"You know the food here", Kurt simply answered and raised an eyebrow. Reed went on to get himself some lunch. Another minute passed and David and Wesley and some other Warbler members joined them and began to shove food into their mouths and speak eagerly about school stuff and music and girls. Kurt was thankful for their chattering and allowed himself to blend out of the conversation. He felt safe among his friends. They knew he wasn't well and they would leave him alone if he wanted them to. It was a lot easier to be around friends than being home. He couldn't stand those worried looks his parents would give him and he didn't want to worry them so much. It was easier to talk to them on the phone, when he didn't have to look them in the eyes.

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Kurt attended the second Warbler meeting of the year. The boys were discussing who should be singing lead now that Blaine was gone. It was obvious that they weren't happy about it, but they moved on, just like that. Kurt couldn't do that. It didn't feel right. Not as long as he didn't know what was going on with Blaine. Not as long as the big Why was dangling above their heads.

Everything seemed unreal to Kurt. He felt like he was trapped in a bad dream and couldn't wake up. How was it possible that there would never be a Warblers performance including Blaine Anderson anymore? How could it be that from now on it was the Warblers without Blaine? Although Kurt had often complained about the Warblers being all about Blaine, now it seemed ridiculous to go on without him. He had the greatest voice of all the members of the Warblers, after all that had been the reason why he had been singing lead. Who should replace him? And it wasn't just Blaine's voice, it was all his personality, the passion he put into his singing, the way he used to storm into the common room and just burst into a song, making all of his friends sing along with him. His love for songs had been contaigous. You could always see in his eyes that he loved nothing more than let his emotions sweep over with song. But he was no show-off, he did not seek for attention or praise, he just needed to express himself by singing.

While sitting on the dark leather couch and listening to his Warbler fellows arguing, Kurt suddenly realized that he still couldn't grasp the fact that Blaine wouldn't be coming back to Dalton. Deep inside he still had hoped that everything would turn out as a big mistake and Blaine would come in through the door the next minute, laughing and telling them there was no way they'd get rid of him this easily. But now yet this tiny spark of hope was fading away. If even the Warblers had given up on Blaine – if even they didn't think it was possible that Blaine returned – then Kurt must be quite a helpless case clinging on to that dream.

The whole meeting Kurt didn't say a word. He'd told Wesley and David, who were head of the council, that he couldn't sing for an undefined period of time, but he wanted to attend the meetings anyway. Near the end of the meeting however he asked to be excused for future meetings. They looked at him with concern, but agreed. Afterwards it was David, who took Kurt aside. "Look, if this is about Blaine ... We have already dealt with Blaine's sudden departure last week. The Warblers need to move on. It's not heartless. It's just realistic." David shrugged apologetically. "Doesn't mean that I like it much either. Nobody does. It feels weird without Blaine and as you can see it's not easy to replace him."

Wesley appeared at Kurt's other side and put a hand on his shoulders. "David and I have this idea we wanted to talk to you about, before we announce it to the guys."

"Yes, you and your friends inspired us with your video song message for Blaine", David explained and grinned over at Wesley. "So we're thinking of doing our own Warbler style message for him."

"And we've already picked a song." Wesley showed Kurt a piece of paper with the song text. Kurt stared at it for a moment before he recognized the song. "Are you serious, guys?" Kurt frowned at their unexpected choice of song, clearly disgusted. "The Backstreet Boys?"

"I know it's rather cheesy", David admitted with another shrug. "But we couldn't find anything else this quickly. And you know how Blaine likes cheesy songs."

"And we think it's quite fitting, you know, we are incomplete without him", Wesley stated matter-of-factly. "It's really hard to find a replacement for him. I mean, of course there're others who can sing lead, but Blaine had been so, so …" He struggled to find the right word.

"Passionate", Kurt finished for him.

"Yeah, that's it!" Wesley clapped his hands.

"And we think you should be right in front of the camera during the whole performance, Kurt", David went on with their vision of the perfect video message. "Even though we know you're not fully recovered yet and you cannot sing many lines, but, you know, as his boyfriend you should be in full sight. If he catches a glimpse at this vid, he would want to see you and not us guys." He grinned at him expectantly. However, Kurt shook his head. "No, I can't", he said with a raspy voice. "Sorry, guys, but you must do this without me."

"Why? We thought you'd like the idea. You've done it already with your friends of New Directions." David sounded slightly offended.

"I'm sorry", Kurt swallowed, trying to dislodge the sudden lump in his throat and took a step backwards. "I have to go." He shouldered his bag, turned around and fled out of the room. He didn't want to see or speak to anyone, so he hurried outside and took a walk around the Dalton property.

It had been snowing again and everything was covered with a white beautiful blanket. The snow crunching under his feet was the only sound to hear far and wide. He was thankful for the cold. Even though it made him shiver like crazy, he felt like it froze his mind and kept him from thinking too much. Why couldn't he just freeze up right here and now and slumber this nightmare away – just like Snow White did – until Blaine comes along and rescues him with a kiss? But no, he had the feeling that he was the one who had to go and rescue Blaine. He just hadn't figured out how.

Kurt looked at the sheet of paper that still stuck to his hand and read those cruel words again that were supposed to simply be a cheesy pop song. How could they describe so perfectly how he felt? He leaned against a tree trunk and tested carefully what those words sounded like on his lips.

"Empty spaces fill me up with holes

Distant faces with no place left to go

Without you within me I can't find no rest

Where I'm going is anybody's guess

I tried to go on like I never knew you

I'm awake but my world is half asleep

I pray for this heart to be unbroken

Bbut without you all I'm going to be is incomplete

Voices tell me I should carry on

But I am swimming in an ocean all alone

Baby my baby, it's written on your face

You still wonder if we made a big mistake

I tried to go on like I never knew you

I'm awake but my world is half asleep

I pray for this heart to be unbroken

But without you all I'm going to be is incomplete ... incomplete!"

With an angry move he tore the paper into pieces and let them fly in the wind. Wiping hot tears from his eyes he marched on and wished that Blaine would at least have left him a trace to follow like foot prints in the snow. But he had left him with nothing more than a dream, a golden promise that he wore on his wrist telling him day by day they would be together forever, mashed up as one. Klaine. But when would this dream come true?

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When Kurt entered his room a sharp smell of paint invaded his nostrils. It was noxious! It made his nose pucker and he tried desperately not to sneeze. With the sleeve of his blazer pressed over his nose he headed across the room for the window. "Reed, at least open a window!" Kurt pulled their window open wide and inhaled the cold air. "Don't you smell it yourself or are you already high? I heard it said that art students sniff on paint tubes, but I didn't think you'd be one of them."

Reed turned around with horror in his eyes. He looked a lot like a rabbit in front of a snake, not sure whether to flee or play dead. "Oh my! I'm sorry! I didn't want to let the cold in, but I didn't think about the smell."

"I don't mind the cold", Kurt replied, but his body betrayed him, because he couldn't stop shivering after having walked for almost two hours in the grounds. "But I'd better take a hot shower."

"Don't lock the door", Reed reminded him. "You know, your dad's orders."

"Right", Kurt said with a sigh and sat down on his bed. "Why are you painting in here anyway?" Kurt asked, although he was used to this sight of their room. Art materials and painted papers were lying everywhere, of course also spreading over Kurt's side of the room. He usually didn't mind, because he loved the little dreamy artist he shared a room with way too much. "What about your studio in the art hall?"

The smaller boy stood in the middle of the room with a paintbrush in his hand, gazing displeased at the outcome of his afternoon activity. "I didn't want to let anyone see what I'm working on", Reed explained and his cheeks blushed. Now Kurt became curious. What could Reed be painting that he was so obviously embarrassed about? Kurt had learned that most of the time painting was Reed's way of dealing with things that bothered him. Whenever he worked on a special piece he was completely absorbed by his vision of the perfect picture. "May I see it?", Kurt asked and Reed reluctantly stepped aside. He couldn't hide it from Kurt anyway, because the painting was still wet and so he couldn't cover it with a cloth.

Kurt joined him in front of his canvas and a smile slowly spread across his face as he studied the painting. There was no mistaking that the portrait showed Shane Anderson. "It's wonderful", Kurt commented, taking it in with admiring eyes, one hand framing his cheek, the other one holding his elbow. "You've got such an incredible talent, Reed."

"It's just ... I don't know... it seems all wrong to me", Reed complained and made a waving gesture towards his unfinished painting. "I'm bad with colors. And the color of the eyes are the most difficult to pin down. I just don't get them right!" Reed slumped down on his bed with a groan of frustration.

"Blaine's eyes are just the same", Kurt mused and tilted his head slightly. "They are of an unusual hazel green color. Depending on the lighting they vary in intenseness and level of green/brown. In the sun they would likely be greener and indoors more of a light/bright brown. Very special ..." Kurt's voice trailed off and his eyes glazed over with a gloomy sadness.

It took him a while to notice Reed was staring at him. "I think it's awesome how strong you are, Kurt. I mean, everytime I think about Shane I feel so, so ... helpless and abandoned... and we weren't even ... you know, we've just been friends. But you and Blaine, you've shared so much, you've had this incredible bond and ... I guess if I were you I'd just ... I don't know." He shrugged and turned to look at his painting again. "I think I couldn't stand it."

Kurt didn't reply anything to his friend and so they just looked at Reed's picture for a while. Finally Reed spoke again, "We should go and have dinner before the bunch of hungry wolves that we call our friends trash the dining hall."

"Go on without me, Reed", Kurt said. "I'm tired as hell. I just want to lay down and die." Seeing the shocked expression on his friend's face, Kurt rolled his eyes and corrected himself with a sigh, "Not literally, of course."

xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx

All week long Kurt just went through the motions, but it was draining. By the final bell each day, he would retreat into the dorm immediately, before any of his friends could make suggestions for evening activities. He pretended doing homework and avoided hanging out with his friends, who would ask him if he was okay. He just couldn't bear talking about everything. About his pain. About his fear. About Blaine. The days passed and he had spent every minute in a daze, not really noticing what was going on around him. He wandered around the school halls as if he was sleep walking, blending out everything around him. Being numb and senseless was better than being in pain all the time.

Reed was a total sweetheart and he took his task to watch out for Kurt very serious. But Kurt was good at pretending to be just tired and weary, something every teenager his age was. Nevertheless, he saw the way Reed would look at him, all concerned and worried. Every night, when his dad called, he would talk to Kurt first and then have a quick chat with Reed. Thankfully there was nothing for Reed to report. Kurt was taking his pills exemplary according to instructions, just one in the morning and one for the night. He was quiet and sad, yes, but no one could hold that against him.

Even Finn called him daily to check on him and ask if he had received any more abusive texts, which luckily wasn't the case. He would tell him news on their friends, but Kurt hardly listened to anything Finn said. Who cared that Tina and Mike got back together again? Who cared that Brittany finally passed her driving test and had invited everyone to a trip? Who cared that the world happily moved on when everything inside him had stopped living?

On Thursday afternoon Principal Walken called him to his office and told him, that he couldn't get Blaine's father on the phone –apparently he was a very busy man – so he indeed had informed the youth welfare office and told them about his worry and the mysterious call and asked for a quick check on Blaine's whereabouts and well-being. After some more prompting they had eventually investigated and received confirmation by the Anderson's family doctor that Blaine had been admitted to a private clinic right after his breakdown at Christmas Eve, where he now was being taken care of and so far wasn't allowed to make a telephone call or receive one yet. Therefore it was unlikely to impossible that the call had been from him.

Despite the circumstances, Blaine was not in custody or held prisoner, like Kurt had phrased it. Everything had been properly arranged and signed up by a doctor. Everything was done to give Blaine the best kind of help he could get. Due to confidentiality Mr Walken had not been told the name of the clinic nor the place, but as far as he was concerned he was content with the information at hand. Kurt however was not.

After his talk to the principal, he immediately returned to his room, collapsed facedown into his bed and screamed into his pillow. For a change he even welcomed the sharp pain in his chest, because it was reflecting his heartache just so perfectly. How on earth could it be this easy to have someone locked-up? Yeah, he could image just too well how easy it was for someone as rich as Mr Anderson to have the family doctor sign a paper saying Blaine was crazy.

He clutched his pillow and couldn't stop crying in black despair. Blaine wasn't crazy! Blaine didn't need help! Especially not that kind of help. What the hell was happening to Blaine? His father couldn't keep him in a long-term professional psychotherapy, could he? Not if Blaine wasn't psycho at all. What was an emotional breakdown anyway? Rachel Berry suffered an emotional breakdown once a week and wrote songs about it. She wasn't sent to a locked-up facility for it. Kurt ended up coughing heavily and gasping desperately for air until he thankfully passed out.

xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx

Later that evening there was a knock at the door. "Come in", Kurt shouted, but a tiny voice shouted back. "Could you please open the door?" Kurt recognized Reed's voice and slid out of bed. He expected Reed to be anxiously clutching onto an armload full of art materials and maybe already having lost part of it along the way. However he opened the door to find his roommate standing in the hall with two mugs of a dark steaming liquid. "I brought hot chocolate for both of us", he smiled and then made a face. "I've already spilled some on my way here."

"What's the occasion?", Kurt asked and freed his friend of one mug. He gestured for Reed to join him on his bed, because Reed's side of the room was completely white, furniture, bedlinen, walls and floor, everything. If he spilled chocolate there it would be a fiasco. Not that Kurt was keen on getting the dark liquid on his own comforter.

"I just thought it would be nice to sit together and have something warm to drink", Reed said with a smile. "And hot chocolate is always soothing me when I'm upset."

"Are you upset about something?", Kurt arched his eyebrows inquiringly.

"No, well, yeah, you know …" Reed looked at Kurt with an uneasy expression. "Uhm, Kurt, I saw you sleeping when I came in an hour ago to pick you up for dinner. I didn't want to wake you and you couldn't have left the room anyway, because ... well, I don't recommend you to have a look in the mirror, but you should know that your eyes are all red and puffy. And to answer your question, yeah, I'm pretty much upset to see you've been crying. So, yeah, I brought hot chocolate for both of us."

"Have you told anyone?", Kurt asked with a low voice.

Reed shook his head. "No, I just told them you were sleeping."

"Thank you", Kurt mouthed. They both crawled upon Kurt's bed and snuggled into the wall of cushions which Kurt has build up to be able to sit comfortably. To Kurt's surprise Reed removed two pink straws out of the inside pocket of his blazer. "Voilà!"

"Thanks", Kurt took one and put it into his mug, as did Reed, who apparently imitated Kurt's new habit. "Using straws is a very good idea", Reed chirped. "Especially for someone like me." He twisted to look at Kurt, his eyes filled with sympathy. "I noticed how your hands are always shaky. Is that why you're using straws? To avoid spilling your drink?"

"Didn't know you were such a good observer, my friend", Kurt replied and took a sip of his chocolate.

"Well, actually I don't think I am", Reed replied, biting his lower lip. "Because if I was I would have noticed a few things much sooner."

Kurt sensed where this conversation was heading and hastily looked for another topic. "I heard the Warblers wanted to record a song for Blaine today?"

"Yeah, we did. David will upload the video message tonight", Reed said. "We've worked hard on the performance and I think it's rather good. Very emotional."

"So you did the Backstreet Boys song then?"

"Yes, and Wesley sang lead. I didn't know he was this good. He was pretty much amazing! You should have come to see it. The guys would have loved you to be there. They understand you didn't want to take part in the vid, but you could at least have watched."

"Sorry, but I just don't like the song", he rubbed two fingers over his right eyebrow. The throbbing in his head had become intense again.

"I think the song is perfect", Reed sucked audibly at his straw. "I mean, look at you, since Blaine is gone you pretty much seem incomplete."

"That's exactly why I couldn't do the song", Kurt replied angrily. "It reflects just too well how I feel. I don't want to breakdown in front of the camera and have it broadcasted all over the world. And what would Blaine think if I sang something like that to him? I'm sure he has enough to worry about right now, wherever he is. He shouldn't be worrying over me as well."

"I know how miserable you feel. I pretty much feel the same way about Shane. It's not easy to be left in the dark by a person you care about so much. What I'm trying to say is, Kurt …" Reed took a deep breath. "I don't think the way you act is healthy."

Kurt frowned. "What do you mean?" Reed tilted his head and clutched the hot mug in both hands. "I think you should eat something before you take those pills. Actually, I think you should eat anything at all." When Kurt didn't say anything, Reed pressed on. "You know, breakfast, lunch, dinner? Seems you've completely forgotten what that is all about."

When Kurt avoided to look at him and remained silent, Reed gently stabbed his arm with one finger. "Do you really think you can fool me? I know you've been sitting in front of a used tray this whole week."

"How did you find out?" Kurt didn't deny it, which Reed gave him credit for. He would have been insulted if Kurt had continued to lie to him about this. "Because you pretended to have spaghetti on Wednesday. You hate spaghetti, because it is impossible to eat them without getting tomato sauce all over your clothes no matter how many serviettes you drape yourself with. I am the best living proof for this. You usually even refuse to sit next to me when I'm having spaghetti."

This made Kurt smile. "You're right."

"I haven't told your dad yet", Reed said with a seriousness that was atypical for him. "But I will."

"Please, don't", Kurt turned to him with pleading eyes. "You're right. I should tell my parents. Tomorrow night I'll be home, Reed. I will tell them myself. Okay?"

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Friday at lunch time Kurt sat with his friends in the cafeteria, having nothing but a cup of coffee. After Reed's confession that he knew he just pretended having lunch, Kurt had stopped faking it in front of his friends. Now he just sat there, legs crossed, his hands holding his knee while his friends talked. By now they had given up trying to talk to him, because he was constantly impenetrable. You had to repeat a question two or three times before Kurt even realized you were talking to him.

Today Kurt's thoughts were occupied with something else terrifying besides Blaine's absence: Tonight he'd be back home and he had promised Reed to talk to his parents about his eating disorder – how Reed liked to call it –, but he wasn't sure yet how to approach them. Also he didn't see he was doing something wrong. He didn't eat, okay, but just because he couldn't. He would eat again eventually, as soon as his breathing problems were done. He didn't really see what Reed's angle was here. It's not like he was being irresponsible with his body. After all he could afford losing some pounds. But before Reed told it to his dad – and he knew how Reed could make a small issue sound overly dramatic – he rather told his parents himself. But he was afraid that they'd be worried and would try to make him eat. And just to imagine eating made him shudder. He couldn't even watch his friends eat and the stench of their different meals was gross.

Wesley was late. When he finally joined them, he sat down with a serious expression and a sheet of paper in his hands. "What's wrong?" David asked, sensing that his best friend was in a weird mood. "I've got news concerning Blaine", Wesley said carefully. Everybody at the table went quiet and looked at him expectantly. His voice made it clear, it was not good news. He slowly shoved the paper into the middle of the table. "This is a scan of the local paper in Newark. My cousin emailed it to me, because I'd asked him to keep his eyes open for any news on the Anderson family. Apparently, Blaine's father has given an interview."

Kurt braced himself. Whatever Mr Anderson had told the press couldn't be true. Maybe this was now the official part of the story which had already been dished to Principal Walken. The story of Blaine's so called emotional breakdown and his unstable mind. Whatever it was, Kurt prepared himself for a bunch of lies.

"And? What did he say?", David urged Wesley to go on.

"Well, it seems that Blaine has been in a hospital over Christmas", Wesley announced.

Everybody's eyes widened. "Why? What happened to him?"

Wesley hesitated and his eyes strayed over to Kurt for a fleeting moment before he dropped the news, "It looks like he tried to kill himself with an overdose of pills."

Reed instantly put his hand on Kurt's arm, but Kurt hardly felt it. Everything inside him went numb while a voice in his head started screaming: NO! THIS IS NOT TRUE!

"His father says he had been stressed out by all his responsibilities at school and the pressure of trying to follow in his dads footsteps", Wesley went on. "Later that night his brother found him in the bathroom unconscious. He had taken quite a handful of sleeping pills and was rushed to the hospital to get his stomach pumped."

THIS IS NOTHING BUT A LIE!

The print was passed on and everybody looked at it. When it was shoved in front of Kurt, he couldn't read it. He just saw the picture of Blaine at the left corner of the page in his Dalton uniform, smiling.

I'm gonna call you so often you'll get sick of me.

That awesome kiss last night? I would like to repeat that anytime soon, but without your father being in the same building, please?

No, Blaine wouldn't have hurt himself. No way!

Let's just enjoy the time we have together.

Could this have been a hint? Had Blaine indicated that there wasn't much time left for them?

And Kurt, this is the only truth.

He wanted something for a lifetime, you know. To always remind you of him.

With a new horror Kurt looked at his bracelet. Did Blaine actually give it to him as a farewell gift? Did he know he wouldn't be around anymore?

BLAINE DID NOT TRY TO KILL HIMSELF!

"You were the last one of us who saw him, Kurt", David now addressed him. "What impression did you have of him then?"

Kurt just stared back at David. He wanted to say out loud what all his heart screamed, but he just couldn't get a word out.

"Kurt?" David and the others looked at him in concern. "Did you have a suspicion about Blaine?"

Kurt slowly shook his head in denial. Suddenly everything was so surreal, nothing made sense anymore. Why should Blaine's father tell the world his son wanted to commit suicide, if it wasn't true?

If only you could take a look inside me, you'd know how desperate I am to be by your side and how scared of losing you.

Without a word Kurt stood, shouldered his bag and left.

The way Blaine had kissed him the last night they spent together, the way he had gazed at him as if he wanted to remember every little detail. Had he known they wouldn't see each other again?

I wish I didn't have to go.

A wave of nausea made Kurt lurch, but he moved on, straight ahead, just out of here.

He headed to the first rescue spot in sight, the restroom. Black spots danced in front of Kurt's eyes. He leaned against the washstand, trying to stay on his feet and fight the dizziness in his head. Suddenly the urge to retch was overwhelming and he hurried into a cabin, leaning over the toilet and got sick, the coffee came up again.

"Watch out, your tie!" Out of nowhere Reed was behind him, reaching around him to hold his tie and to steady him. "It's okay, Kurt, everything's gonna be okay, I'm sure." Reed handed him toilet paper to wipe his mouth. Kurt took it thankfully and leaned against the cabin wall. "I know it all sounds awful right now, but he's alive and that's the most important thing you should focus on, right? Please stop crying, Kurt, please."

It was just then that Kurt noticed he really was crying, his whole body was trembling and his breath came in deep rasping gulps. He straightened up and walked back to one ot the sinks to wash his mouth and his face. "You're right, Reed", he murmured. "No need to be crying. Tears don't help anyone." And they definitely don't help Blaine.

He was able to talk himself into enough composure to handle getting out of the restroom and meet his friends who had gathered outside the door in obvious worry over him. When he came out, Wesley stepped forward. "Uhm, listen, if you want to we can skip the rest of the day and I'll drive you home, Kurt."

"No, thank you", Kurt replied. "That is not necessary. We're leaving just as planned tonight."

"Are you okay?" David asked carefully. Kurt glared at him and he knew he should just swallow his answer down and be nice to his friends, but he couldn't stop himself. "No, I'm not okay", he retorted. "How could I be? The one I love is said to be suicidal. He needs me and I can't be there for him, because I don't know where he is. No, I don't think okay is anywhere near to what I'm feeling. But thanks, I appreciate your concern."

Kurt knew it wasn't fair to let his frustration out on his friends, but right now he didn't care. He turned on his heels and headed for the dormitory. He would spend the afternoon in his room and try to calm down and wait until the signs of crying on his face would fade away. He couldn't go home in the state he was in. For distraction he texted back and forth with Mercedes, not mentioning with one word what was being said about Blaine.

Let's hit the mall tomorrow. It's about time we went shopping again. – M

Sounds fantastic. Can you pick me up? – K

Anything to not spending the whole weekend under his parents watch.

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The car stopped in the street, because the driveway of the Hummel-Hudson home was full with parked cars. "Thanks for the ride, Wes. I really appreciate it." Kurt turned to him and forced a smile. "Don't mention it", Wesley said and let out a weary sigh. Again Kurt hadn't spoken a word to him during the whole drive, but had stared out of the window lost in thoughts. He knew that Kurt usually enjoyed talking and wouldn't shut up if one begged him to. But Wesley figured that one couldn't expect Kurt to be himself. Not with all that was going on with Blaine – whatever the hell that was!

"Listen", he started, his head busy producing something comforting to say to his friend, but Kurt cut in, not giving him the chance to speak. "I'm sure I can drive by myself again on Sunday", Kurt explained with an assuring smile. "So I'll see you at Dalton then."

"Shall I help you with your bag?" Wesley offered and motioned to get out of the car. "Don't be silly", Kurt said with a headshake. "Your girlfriend is waiting, don't waste time with my stupid bag." Kurt got out of the car and went to retrieve his bag from the trunk. He shouldered it and waved his friend goodbye. Wesley started the ignition, waved back and was gone. Left alone in the street Kurt turned towards the house and walked up the path.

It was already dark as he approached the house and all of a sudden his heart started beating panicky in response to a memory his subconsciousness sent him. He slowed his pace and listened to any suspicious sounds, but his sneakers crunching into the gravel was the only sound he heard. Still twenty feet away from the front door he stopped and couldn't go on. He squinted his eyes and tried to make out whether or not someone was hiding in the bushes.

"This is ridiculous", he whispered and flinched at the sound of his own voice. No matter what his brain ordered, his body simply refused to go on. He couldn't move, but he wanted to get inside so desperately, he didn't want to stand here, visible to anybody who drove or walked by. His right hand clutched the front of his coat and he didn't dare look around while in his head he was picturing being surrounded by a mob of people who stared at him with hate and disgust. No one's here, he told himself, but still he felt weak and vulnerable and exposed, he felt like the sky would fall down and bury him any minute and safety was just out of reach, just like it had been on New Year's.

The door opened and Carole stepped out, smiling at him, "There you are! Come on in, get out of the cold!" Kurt swallowed and felt his senses go back to normal. Slowly he walked towards her, his whole body still tense, but at least his feet moved. When he entered the warmth of the house, he shrugged his coat off and hung it onto the coatrack next to the door. "Are you okay, honey?", Carole asked him and Kurt nodded. "Yes, I'm just cold", he said to excuse his shaking hands which she eyed with concern. Kurt stretched the cuffs of his sleeves into his palms to create the impression that he was cold, but really he wanted to avoid his bandage being seen. The cut on his wrist had healed nicely so far, but he still treated it with ointment and bandaged it up every day.

He followed Carole into the kitchen where Finn was fixing himself a snack. "Finn, do you really need to eat something now?", his mother glared at him. "We'll have dinner in about half an hour."

"By then I'm starved to death", Finn replied with a roll of his eyes.

"Dad's not home yet?", Kurt asked and leaned against the counter.

"He's working late today", Carole answered. "But he should be home by eight."

"Hey!", Finn greeted while shoving a sandwich in his mouth.

"Hey yourself", Kurt answered and rubbed two fingers against his right temple.

"What's up?"

"Not much", Kurt said with a sigh. His heart had calmed down again, but now a headache was building up. Deep behind his right eyebrow his head was pounding like crazy.

"Hey, I thought we could go shopping tomorrow?", Finn suggested. "You know, you offered to help me find new clothes."

"Yeah, sure, I'm seeing Mercedes tomorrow, you can come with us", Kurt said, but Finn sensed that something was wrong. The spark was missing, the usual excitement that hit Kurt whenever he talked about going shopping. Finn looked over to his mother and when their eyes met he could tell that she was worried, too. Actually Carole was rather shocked to see the state Kurt was in. He visibly lost weight, although he wore baggy clothes you could tell he was a lot thinner than he had been last week. And he looked so tired, pale and somehow distant.

"Any word from Blaine?" Carol asked carefully, not sure whether or not this topic was safe.

"Nope", Kurt said, shaking his head and looking even more miserable.

"I've made chicken curry", Carol told him, eager to change subject and brighten her stepson up. "I used your receipt, Kurt, so if I followed it correctly it should be all fat-free and healthy."

"Mom!", Finn complained. "Chicken curry is meant to be tasty and not healthy!"

"Thanks, Carole, but I'm not really hungry."

"You should eat something, honey. You look bad, you know."

"That's because I feel bad", Kurt confirmed with a heartbreaking sigh. He met Carole's eyes and swallowed hard. "I know I'm not in my best shape right now. It's been three weeks since the last time I saw Blaine and now … there is this rumor ..." His voice wavered. Hold it together, Kurt Hummel, his brain commanded.

"What rumor?", Carole asked, sensing that this was serious.

Kurt shook his head. "No, it's not important, because it's not true!" Kurt sounded like he wanted to assure himself and he hated that he felt unsure about this.

BLAINE DID NOT TRY TO KILL HIMSELF!

Exhaustion overwhelmed him and suddenly spots were dancing before his eyes. He knew he was going to faint at any second and he had to get to his room before it happened, so Carole and Finn wouldn't notice and worry about him.

"Excuse me", he murmured and managed to let go of the counter and turn around towards the staircase, but he didn't get far. Without warning his knees buckled and everything went black. Right before Finn's and Carole's eyes he fell. He didn't stumble or lose balance, he just broke down and hit the floor with an ugly thud.

"Kurt!", Carole exclaimed in horror. Finn reached him first and crouched down beside him. He had never seen anyone pass out like this before. Kurt had blacked out before he fell, his body had just sagged without any chance of cushioning his fall. Finn gently took his brother's shoulder and rolled him over. "Kurt?" Finn leaned over him, scared. "Hey Kurt! Wake up!" Kurt stirred a little, but didn't open his eyes.

"Get him to the couch", Carole told her son who obeyed immediately. Carefully Finn pulled his brother up from the floor and into his arms. When he lifted Kurt's limp body up he noticed with surprise how light he was. Beneath Kurt's thick sweater he could actually feel his bones. He carried him over to the living room and laid him down on the couch, then turned to his mother for further instructions. Carole gave him a wet towel while dialing a number on the phone. "Put this on his forehead. Try to wake him up." Carole called her husband and tried not to sound as terrified as she felt. "Honey? Please come home fast. Kurt just arrived and he has a breakdown. I don't know if I should call an ambulance or not!"

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When Burt arrived fifteen minutes later – he drove over the speed limit the entire way home and even ignored one or two red lights – Kurt was awake again, but still in a bad condition. His body was trembling all over and his breathing was uneven. He looked so miserable that it broke Burt's heart. He sat down beside him on the couch and took his shaking hands into his own. Sometimes Burt couldn't believe that the boy was seventeen. Especially at times like these he still saw the eight years old boy in front of him, who had been so lost when his mom had died. "Hey buddy, calm down", Burt said gently and patted Kurt's hands. "What happened? Why are you so upset?"

Kurt didn't – couldn't – answer. He was having a hard time breathing right and with all the tears welling in his eyes it wouldn't get better. He stroked a hand through Kurt's damp hair and felt his forehead. He was all heated and sweating. "He has a temperature", Carole confirmed and brought another cold wet cloth to put on his forehead. "Now, eat this", Carol tried to put some chocolate into Kurt's mouth, but the boy kept his mouth shut and refused to take the candy. Burt turned to his wife. "What happened exactly?"

"Woah, you should've seen the way he hit ground facedown", Finn exclaimed from his seat opposite of the couch. "He's lucky to not have broken his nose! Had me really scared! I thought he was like dead, you know?" Finn rubbed his hands over his knees and Burt had never seen the boy this anxious and worried before.

"I think he fainted, because he didn't eat anything today", Carole declared her guess. "Now eat this, honey, you need sugar!" Reluctantly Kurt accepted the chocolate. He didn't swallow it, but sucked it slowly until it was gone. "Do you think we should get him to a hospital?, Carol asked her husband. "No", Kurt said with a low voice. "I'm sorry I scared you. I was just … I guess you're right, Carole. I didn't eat much today."

"So, what did you have for lunch then?", Burt wanted to know. Kurt seemed to think about this question for ages. "I can't remember ...", he finally said and felt bad about lying to them. This was the right time to tell them he hadn't eaten anything for days – he had promised Reed he would –, but he simply couldn't. They were so worried about him, he couldn't add anything more to that worry.

"You've lost weight, Kurt", Carole said concerned. "My guess is you haven't eaten much for days. "

"So what? I can afford to drop some pounds." Slowly Kurt sat up. He had gotten better, his breathing improved and his hands had stopped shaking. But he still looked exhausted and weary.

"You can't let yourself get into such a state, Kurt!", his father grumbled and arched his eyebrows at him. "You know, you're not a kid anymore, you need to start taking care of yourself."

"Beating me with my own words, are you?", Kurt smiled, but it was a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. "I'm sorry. You're right. I haven't eaten anything today, so I guess that's why I fainted."

"How can you not eat for a whole day?", Finn asked astonished. "No wonder you're light as a feather." Kurt looked up at him, mortified. "How do you ...?"

"Finn carried you to the couch", Carole explained with that motherly smile of hers. "How else do you think you got here?" Embarrassed by the picture of being carried by Finn, Kurt hid his face in his hands. "Sorry, I didn't mean to cause you all so much trouble."

"Don't worry about it", Finn said with a shrug. "Just, you know, Burt and Mom are right, you should take care of yourself. And what will Blaine think when he sees you again and you're starved to the bones?"

This was when Carole remembered what they'd been talking about before Kurt had passed out. "Oh honey, you were about to tell us what rumor there is about Blaine?" Burt looked up sharply. "News from Blaine?"

"No, it's nothing", Kurt said with a tired voice. "It's just a stupid a rumor Blaine's father spreads around to have people think Blaine's a maniac."

"But what is it?", Carole urged him.

"Please, can we talk tomorrow?", Kurt pleaded. "I really need to go to sleep."

"I'll bring you upstairs in a minute", Burt said. "Just tell us what is said about Blaine."

"Fine", Kurt let out a weary sigh. "His dad says he tried to commit suicide on Christmas Eve. But it's a lie. Blaine would never do that." Kurt stared at the floor while his family went silent in shock. "Can I please go to bed now?" Kurt stood and didn't refuse his father's help to get upstairs. He changed quickly in his bathroom, claiming that he did not need any help to put on his pajamas. "You can leave now, Dad", Kurt managed to say in his best annoyed tone before he climed into his bed. The second his head hit the pillow he was fast asleep.

But his father didn't leave. He sat down at Kurt's bedside and watched over his sleep. A little later Carole joined him. She leaned over Kurt to tug him in, just when he moved his arms and they saw the white bandage on his wrist. "What is this?" Careful and without waking him Carole removed the bandage and she and her husband looked at each other with deep concern. "Do you think he ...?"

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On Saturday morning and after a restless night, Burt knocked at Kurt's door and entered, seeing that his son was awake, but still in bed. "Morning, son."

"Hi", Kurt replied weakly, hugging his pillow and staring out of the window. Burt sat down on the edge of the mattress and decided to get straight to the point. "Tell me about that cut at your wrist." Kurt's eyes shot up, linking with his father's.

"I cut myself on a broken vase", Kurt explained matter-of-factly. When he saw the worried look upon his father's face, he added annoyed, "by accident! You can ask Reed if you don't believe me. Which seems to be the case lately."

"You can't blame me for caring about you", Burt replied and narrowed his eyes at him. "I just want to be sure you're not ... hurting yourself or something."

"Why should I cut myself on purpose?", Kurt shot back angrily. "I hate scars! I was just being clumsy when I wanted to fix that stupid vase in Principal Walken's office!"

"You broke a vase in the principal's office?" Burt frowned at him.

"Oh damn", Kurt covered his face with his hands. "Don't tell him it was us who broke it, please? He doesn't know we sneaked in there."

"You sneaked into the principal's office?" Burt tried to keep up his frown, but by now he was grinning. Boys will be boys, won't they? "Did you at least find what you were looking for?"

"No, nothing. Nada. Niente." With a sigh Kurt sat up and motioned to get out of bed, but Burt stopped him. "Don't bother getting up. Carole's fixing you breakfast, so you can eat in bed while I keep you company."

Immediately a panic build up in Kurt. He couldn't pretend eating when his dad sat in front of him and watched him. It was easier pretending in the midst of a group of people who he could distract with talk. Yeah, he knew what he had promised to Reed, but he just wasn't ready yet. Maybe later today, but not now. He had more important stuff on his mind right now. Like ... Blaine did not try to kill himself. Blaine. Did. NOT. Try. To. Kill. Himself.

"No", Kurt shook his head and forced a smile. "I want to get up and eat breakfast with you at the table. Just give me a minute to get dressed, okay?"

"Well, okay then." Burt stood and left him be.

Carole looked relieved when Kurt sat down at the table with them. Just like her husband she didn't get much sleep last night, wondering if Kurts worry over Blaine would make him even worse. "Toast? Scrambled eggs?", she offered.

"I'll have some cereal." Kurt went to the kitchen to get himself a bowl and milk and returned to the table. By the time he finally had his cereal set, Finn already ate his third toast and helped himself to a second plate of eggs. Burt never took his eyes of his son, who now casually stirred the spoon in his bowl and started talking to Finn about their friends at McKinley. "Don't talk, eat!", Burt reminded him after a while.

"I do eat", Kurt protested and held the spoon up, but instead of putting it in his mouth he just took a tiny sip of milk and then resumed talking to Finn, asking him in which stores he wanted to look for clothes. After Carole and Finn finished up and carried their dishes into the kitchen, Kurt got up to leave the table, too.

"Sit down, Kurt. You're not finished", Burt told him.

"You cannot expect me to eat all of this!", Kurt pointed at his cereal bowl.

"You didn't eat any of it! I watched you!"

"What is this? You're controlling me now?", Kurt growled back at him.

"Honey, you had a breakdown just yesterday", Carole reminded him gently. "You need to eat something."

"You are completely overreacting, Carole." A short laugh escaped his lips and he stood, shoving the chair between himself and the bowl of cereal. "I didn't have a breakdown, I just fainted. I'm going to eat later, okay? Right now I'm just not hungry."

"You have to eat something now or you'll faint again", Carole tried to reason with him, but Kurt simply shook his head, standing in front of the table with his hands on his hips.

"We're done discussing this, Kurt", Burt grumbled. He didn't understand why his son made such a fuss over a bowl of cereal. "Now, sit back down and eat up!"

"You can't make me!" Kurt suddenly shouted angrily at them and made the three of them flinch. They looked at him with sheer disbelief. "This is ridiculous!", Kurt started ranting, throwing his hands in the air. "You're my family! You're supposed to help me, instead you're picking on me!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Burt stood up and walked around the table. "You're the one who's being ridiculous. All I want is for you to sit down and eat something. I don't even care what you're eating and if it's the tablecloth." He wanted to grab Kurt's shoulders to make him sit down again, but to his surprise Kurt backed away as if he was afraid of him.

"Stay away from me!", Kurt screamed at his father in horror. It was then that Burt saw the panic in Kurt's eyes and felt his own heart beat faster. What was happening here? Why was Kurt this terrified all of a sudden? What was he afraid of? Burt stopped short and held his hands up in defeat.

"Kurt, please calm down..." Carole approached him from the other side and Kurt whipped around to face her, feeling trapped. "Honey, just let us ..." Carole reached for him and he lurched back. "All of you! Don't come any closer!"

"Dude, no one's wanting to hurt you", Finn now tried to talk to him, irritated by his strange behavior. "We're not your enemy. You're acting totally uncool right now."

"I'm leaving!", Kurt exclaimed and moved in a wide circle around them towards the door. "Don't try to stop me!", he glared at Finn who had made a step towards him.

"Where are you going?", Burt asked and readied himself to jump forward and grab his son at any second. He wouldn't let him go, no matter how much he would struggle and fight back, he wouldn't let him leave the house in this weird condition.

Kurt took his coat of the hook and put his hand on the doorknob. "I don't know", he answered with a faint voice and throwing a final look back over his shoulder his eyes caught his father's and something unspoken passed between them, something like an apology or a deep regret, and the blankness in Kurt's eyes was the last thing Burt saw before his son collapsed. Kurt's legs wouldn't support him any longer, he leaned against the closed door and his body slid down on it and fell with an awkward noise on the wooden floor.

Carole let out a scream and all three of them hurried over to him. Burt kneeled down next to his son and gathered him up into his arms. "Kurt, wake up, will ya? Come on, buddy!" He clapped his cheeks, but Kurt was completely blacked out. "Call an ambulance!", he shouted to his wife. He wouldn't risk being fooled by Kurt again. The boy needed to be checked by a doctor right now. Damn, they should have brought him to hospital yesterday! While they waited for the ambulance, they tried to wake Kurt, but he wouldn't regain consciousness.

"What's wrong with him?", Finn demanded, he was clearly overstrained by the situation. "Why has he passed out again?"

"We don't know, Finn", Carole answered and drew a shaky breath. "But he will be okay, don't worry." Finn looked at his mother, who was crying. If everything was going to be okay, why was she crying? "Then why doesn't he wake up?"

"He will wake up", Carole assured him. "Just give him some time." Burt checked his son's breathing again and again, it was just so faint. "Wake up, son, come on, wake up!" But Kurt's body was limp in his father's arms and he remained unconscious.

xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx

Songs in this chapter:

Backstreet Boys – Incomplete

Next chapter: will contain Blaine singing! So please stick around with me a bit longer.

Thank you for reading and I hope you'll send me your feedback!