Another chapter? Already? Whatttt? ;)

He called Rachel. He told her he was ill and to bring any musical movies that she owned. He only had to wait half an hour, enough time for him to change his sheets, quickly jump in the shower and start to towel dry his hair, before there was a knock at the door. He froze mid-rub, the damp towel slipping from his fingers and onto the floor; his head snapped up and he caught his terrified expression in the mirror in front of him: his glasz eyes were wide and his short, damp hair stuck out in all angles.

He knew it was Rachel. It had to be. She said she'd come over to cuddle him and make him her dad's special home made tomato soup, a dish that Rachel insisted would cure him of any coughs or colds in mere hours, and now here she was, knocking on his door. However, telling himself these things did nothing to slow down the frantic beating of his heart or the rush of the past day's events running through his mind.

Kurt slowly turned and walked out of the bathroom, eyes trained on the front door.

"R..Rachel?"

His voice was hoarse and quiet; clearing his throat, he called out again.

"Rachel?"

A moment of silence.

"Kurt?! Come on open up! It's cold out here!" Rachel. He let out a sigh of relief and made his way towards the door to relieve his friend from the cold. The frustrated tone in her voice turned into one of confusion. "What's that on your-"

The door swung open.

"—door?"

Kurt glanced in the direction of Rachel's horrified stare. She silently mouthed out the words, her eyebrows furrowing and drawing together in confusion. Of course she would see the note, he'd forgotten it was there after the relief of finding out that Rachel was 'right on her way' after he'd phoned.

His eyes cut back to hers which were now surveying his face, almost accusingly, and she opened her mouth to speak before deciding against it and glancing at the red marks again.

"You're not ill? Are you?"

It was more of a statement then a question. Her brown eyes were filed with worry as she stared up at him and his heart began to flutter slightly again. Worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, he too glanced at the red note again before letting out a weary and shaky sigh, and running one hand down his face.

"No. No I'm not."

They sat wrapped up in blankets at opposite ends of the couch, a warm cup of hot chocolate in clutched in both of their hands, the quiet murmur of the television filling up the background silence. After the short break in their conversation, Rachel was the first to speak.

"So their eyes... were black?"

Kurt nodded. He slid lower into the blankets and brought the steaming mug up to his lips, inhaling the sweet smell of warm chocolate which instantly helped calmed his nerves a little. Rachel let out a small 'huh' before leaning over and placing her full mug onto the coffee table. She shuffled on the couch and turned to face Kurt fully.

"You know, Kurt. There are a lot of people who actually do have black eyes."

The small smile that held a hint of pity was enough to shake Kurt out of his nervous state.

"Rachel." His tone was clipped, an abrupt change from his recent demeanour which startled her. It was lucky that she had placed the mug down moments before. "I am not stupid. I know that there are people with black eyes, I'm pretty sure Santana has black eyes. But that's not the point, it's the fact that they were completely black. Not just the pupil, not just the iris, I mean completely, completely black."

Kurt waved his hand around his face as if to add to his explanation, one hand still clutching the mug on his lap. The shorter woman held her hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright! I'm not saying that you are stupid or that you made it up, I'm just saying that you may have no seen their eyes properly. I mean", she shifted onto her knees, "You did say it was late at night, and you had just woken up, hadn't you?"

"So what you're saying is maybe I was still half-asleep or something?"Kurt placed his mug down as Rachel shrugged.

"Maybe."

He pulled the blankets tighter over his lap and leaned forward.

"Then explain the note left on the door. You really think that even if it was kids, with or without black eyes, that they would leave a note like that on my door? With my name on it? And don't even get me started on what the might have used to draw it on the door with because that did not look like red felt tip pen to me."

"Okay, okay. So, that part's a bit confusing," Kurt released a small 'mhmm', as if to prove his point, "It could be some one pulling a prank? Maybe some kids from one of the families in another apartment decided to play a prank on you."

"So how'd they get my name?"

"Maybe they asked your neighbour or something. There's got to be a few people who know your name in this building."

She had a point there.

"And the red... marks?"

"Ketchup."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Fine, fake blood or something, I don't know!"

Kurt leaned back against the arm of the couch, taking everything in that she had said, before speaking carefully.

"So, what you're saying is, a couple of kids, who I have never seen before in this building for the past two years, let me mention, just happened to ask a neighbour for my name, buy two pairs of black, sclera contact lenses and drew on my front door with fake blood? Oh. Not to mention the fact that as the boy one got angry, the light bulb in the hallway popped, probably just a coincidence right? Just like the tapping on my bedroom window was just a coincidence? Rachel. I live on the 8th floor!

Kurt was panting harshly. In the midst of his rant he had stood up, towering over Rachel who was still curled up on the couch, shaking ever-so-slightly. She leaned forward carefully and took his trembling hands in her own.

"Kurt." His eyes were unfocused, darting around the room. They were real. He knew it now. He lived on the 8th floor, his bedroom window overlooking the car park below, and they had tapped at the glass. The two not-children had tapped on the glass sixty feet above the ground.

"Kurt!"

Head eyes whipped backwards towards her, scanning her face quickly. Rachel's big brown eyes were wide and pleading, and her hands soft and reassuring against his as she rubbed small circles on them with her thumbs.

"I'm…I'm sorry." He stuttered, letting himself be pulled gently into Rachel's embrace. She shushed him, her mouth next to his ear, as she lightly rubbed his back. Kurt felt all the tension drain for him as he relaxed in her eyes, a wave of tiredness taking over him, and his own arms wound around her small frame, clutching her gently to his chest. He whispered another apology to her.

"It's okay, you don't need to apologise. You're just scared right now, but it's okay, I'm here."

Kurt thanked whatever god had blessed him with Rachel as his best friend. Sure the two had their falling outs and not to mention the fact that Kurt could not even stand the sight of the girl when he first met her, but after growing up with her in glee club, and spending another couple of years in the same apartment when they first moved into the big city, Rachel felt more like a sister to him than a friend.

She pulled back with a soft smile on her face; he stifled another yawn.

"Come on", she laughed as she took his hand and led him towards his room, "Let's get you tucked up into bed. You're dead on your feet."

Rachel pulled the covers back and he climbed onto the soft mattress allowing himself to be tucked in. Kurt closed his eyes and felt a light brush of lips against his forehead as the soft tendrils of sleep started to wrap around him. He managed to mutter a soft 'thank you', not quite catching the reply, and the darkness took over him.