A/N: Thanks to everyone for all of the wonderful feedback! One warning for this chapter, there's a bit of smut in the very beginning. It's in italics, so if you want to skip it, just go to the first line break. I'm pretty nervous about this chapter, so I'd love to hear your thoughts.

I don't own Glee or United States of Tara

The boy's fingers brushed slowly, languorously over Sebastian's naked abdomen, as if he had all the time in the world to study his physique. As if nothing about this entire scenario was off. It felt like it had been days, months even, since Sebastian had felt this way with him and even still, he didn't stop to think about how the two of them even got there, naked on the roof of Sebastian's dorm building, under the uncharacteristically warm setting sun. He was afraid that if he thought about it too hard, the image would shatter and he'd be left alone in his cold, dark reality.

So back to the boy's fingers, and the way they traced lazy circles and figure eights across Sebastian's body, like an ice skater doing her first warm-ups in the wee hours of the morning. His fingers dipped and swirled, and didn't bother acknowledging the moments when Sebastian shuddered, eyes closed, as his muscles reacted to an unexpected turn. What Sebastian would give to hear him speak, but he was too afraid to open his mouth himself. His voice may destroy it, this perfection he was experiencing, and while hearing the boy say his name was the one thing he wanted most of all, he knew that he wouldn't get it. Not yet, anyway.

Finally, the boy's hands began to move with urgency, with a sudden purpose. They snaked down Sebastian's long thighs, weaving in and out until they landed on his ankles. The boy grabbed Sebastian by the feet and scooted him forward. Sebastian helped, bending his knees and lifting his ass slightly, trying to anticipate the mysterious boy's next move. But the boy pushed his stomach back down with his forearm and left it there, while he slowly lowered his mouth onto Sebastian's cock, never once breaking eye contact.

"Uhhh," Sebastian groaned, his eyes immediately rolling back as his elbows fought to brace him. The waves of pleasure that rushed through him every time the boy dipped and swirled, sucked and bobbed, were nearly enough to send him over the edge early.

"Whoa," Sebastian warned, trying to back away from his mouth when he got so close to the edge in an embarrassingly short amount of time. "I'm too close."

The boy backed off only slightly, just enough to sit up a bit straighter.

"I know," the boy answered with a smile before diving back in.

And then Sebastian knew too. It wasn't Daniel, like he'd hoped it would be. But as Sebastian went flying over the edge a few moments later, the only thing that he could think was that he didn't care that it was Kurt. After all, Kurt was real and Daniel wasn't. On the other hand, Daniel wanted Sebastian and Kurt didn't, so in the end, did it really matter what was real and what wasn't?

Sebastian squinted as he turned on his bedside lamp to see the mess he'd made in his sleep. The covers were kicked off and he was completely naked, save for the thick, white pool of come covering his hand, which was still grasping his cock.

It had been the third time that week, but this time was much worse, much more serious. This time it was Kurt that visited him in his dream, not Daniel, and Sebastian's hesitation had lasted less than a second. Not to mention that he'd come harder thinking about Kurt than he ever had thinking about Daniel.

If Sebastian was going to be honest with himself, which he rarely was, he'd admit that this whole thing was starting to scare him. He'd been attracted to guys before, and he would be the very first to admit that he'd done some really, really stupid things to try to win them, but this was starting to feel a whole lot like obsession. Thoughts of Kurt Hummel were starting to consume Sebastian and there really wasn't much he could do to fight it. He tried to focus on other things, other guys, but in the end, his mind always drifted back there, and try as he may, he couldn't shake it out of his head.

"Are you sure about this, Kurt?"

"For the ninth time, yes, I'm sure."

"Alright, well excuse me for asking, but we've been sitting outside the neighborhood for a half hour now."

Kurt turned to look at Blaine. As much as it annoyed him to admit it, his boyfriend was right. What the hell did Kurt think he was doing? What was the plan here? Did he really expect the Rawlings family to just let him in and start asking questions?

"This would be a lot easier if we were Sam and Dean Winchester," Kurt muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Never mind," Kurt sighed, cranking his engine again. "It's now or never, I'll just…I'll just say I'm with the newspaper or something."

Blaine cast a nervous look at Kurt. "What about just telling them the truth?"

"The truth?" Kurt asked incredulously. "As in, 'Hi, my name is Kurt Hummel, last night I transitioned into my hillbilly alter, Conrad and woke up this morning outside of your house, what does it all mean?' That truth, Blaine? Because I'm not sure even I believe it."

Blaine turned his attention to the window, watching the houses move slowly by. He had no idea what they were doing there. Sure, it had seemed like a good idea at the time, but even after an hour and a half in the car, they were no closer to figuring out a plausible excuse for showing up at the Rawlings' house, nor did they even know what questions to ask to try to figure out why Kurt's alters were drawn to them in the first place.

"Fine," Kurt said, putting the car into park outside of the house. "Let's just sit here for a minute and try to figure this out."

They were sitting in the same place Kurt had been when he woke up that morning. There were a few more cars in the driveway, and as always, the news truck was parked in front of the house as well. The back doors were open and the newscaster appeared to be enjoying a sub sandwich a little too much. Blaine figured it must get boring for the crew to be sitting outside of the house all day, filming a two minute update every few hours.

"Maybe you could just go up there and say you're a concerned citizen and you'd like to join the search effort," Blaine offered, trying to muster as much optimism as he could.

"Somehow I think those cops won't let me near the front door," Kurt answered, peering out of the windshield. There were two officers standing in the front lawn. Kurt guessed that they were probably working security detail, making sure no crazies came to harass the family. Kurt chuckled at this thought.

"Good point," Blaine muttered. They were running out of options, which really wasn't all that hard to do, considering they hadn't really had many options in the first place.

"I don't know, maybe just sitting here for a while, maybe that'll jog something," Kurt said hopefully.

"Maybe," Blaine echoed. "After all, your alters brought you here for a reason, right?"

"It doesn't seem like it could be random," Kurt acknowledged. "I mean, Conrad especially has taken me to some weird places, but usually it's strip clubs, underground gambling rings or convenience stores. You know, places that make sense in Conrad Land. But this-"

"Kurt, someone's coming over here," Blaine interrupted, feeling slightly panicky. It was a young woman, maybe even a teenager, stalking angrily over to the car. Her eyes were puffy from crying and her fists were balled up like she wanted to punch someone. Kurt whipped his head around to the driver's side window where Blaine had pointed and nervously rolled down the window as she approached.

"What are you doing here?" the girl asked angrily, coming face to face with Kurt.

"I-I—"

"You-you what? It's been almost four years, Conrad!"

"Wait, what did you call me?"

"I called you by your name, you dick." She was almost yelling now and the cops in the lawn were starting to pay attention. "What, did you really think that you could just drop off the face of the planet and then randomly show up a few years later? Did you think I'd forget?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, really," Kurt cut in, completely blindsided by the attack. "I really don't have a clue what you're talking about, but I think I can explain—"

"I'd love that, I really would," the girl answered with a heavy trace of sarcasm. "But you'll have to excuse me, I'm a little busy right now, searching for my son, so I'll have to take a rain check."

"Wait, wait!" Kurt shouted as the girl started to walk away. He unbuckled his seatbelt and flew out of the car, leaving a bewildered Blaine in the passenger seat. "You're Mikey Rawlings' mother?"

The girl stopped in her tracks and took her time turning around to face Kurt. When she did, she had the strangest mix of fear, exhaustion and bitter humor in her features.

"Yeah," she said quietly, the anger still evident in her voice. "I am. And guess what Conrad? You're his father. Guess if you'd have stuck around back then, you would have known that."

Kurt couldn't move as he watched the girl stalk silently back to her house. And just when his vision became unfocused and the splotchy blackness began to take over, he could hear Blaine's soft voice in the distance, calling out his name.