It started with the plants. A random mutation in a seemingly innocuous amoeba started to kill off the plants across the US. The sudden loss of foliage was blamed on the particularly cold and harsh winter – people figured the climate was acting so strange that it only made sense for so many plants to be dying. But then it infected some smaller animals, killing a few here and there, nothing major enough to be noticed. It started to spread faster, too, with the animals transporting it across huge distances in almost no time. By the time anyone caught on it was too late. It was everywhere. By the time that thousands of birds were falling from the sky, and hundreds of fish were floating to the surface dead, it was too late. The infection quickly jumped to larger animals and the government began imposing strict guidelines for testing meat that was sold for human consumption. Scientists were working tirelessly in secret government facilities to identify the mystery disease, and attempt a cure for infection or at the very least a vaccine.

Reports on the progress of the infection were scarce, and hardly informative. In an attempt to avoid mass hysteria the public was told next to nothing. They were advised to stay away from meats without one of the new, shiny government seals, they were told to call the 1-800 numbers at the first sign of infection in the varying life forms in the community, and they were fed lines about the "hopeful" and "important" advances the scientists were making. Most importantly, the public was told that humans were in no way in danger of contracting the mystery illness. Certain areas were worse than others, of course, with big cities being the last to feel the bite. With such a small green to concrete ratio it was no surprise that cities like New York and Los Angeles were the last to be hit with the infection, though they were far from exempt.

Kurt hated having to leave his family after everything started; he wanted to be around in case anything happened, not two hours away at school. Unfortunately he had no choice. He couldn't go back to McKinley, he'd just escaped that hell. Karofsky was back and still a menace to everyone, reports from New Directions seemed to indicate that he was getting worse. So Kurt reluctantly packed his car and drove the two and a half hours back to Dalton for the start of term. Seeing Blaine was a relief of sorts, he'd been worried about him as well, and the workload and Warblers' rehearsals kept his mind busy most of the time. But late at night, or in the rare quiet moments, his mind would drift back to Lima, to his friends and his family, and guilt would swell inside him. What if something happened to them? Blaine noticed almost immediately that something was off – Kurt's clothes were far from their normal, neatly pressed state, his hair was a ruffled mess from his hand's constant travel through it, his bottom lip was swollen and red (and incredibly distracting) from the incessant chewing Kurt was giving it. He tried to help Kurt, tried to assure him that nothing was going to happen.

"The infection can't transfer to humans," Blaine reminded him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder and giving Kurt a gentle smile. Kurt looked at him, eyes dull and fraught with worry, and Blaine knew that nothing he could say would comfort his friend. He sighed quietly and nodded, partially in defeat, partially in determination, before sitting next to his friend. Blaine may not have been able to give Kurt any real comfort, but he wasn't going to leave him on his own, either. They spent as much time together as they could manage over the first few days of the semester, Blaine trying to keep Kurt's mind off of Lima and the infection, Kurt trying not to worry about his friends and instead focus on the fact that the boy he was in love with was now practically glued to his side.

About a week and a half into the semester Kurt exited his final morning class, heading to lunch, to find the entirety of New Directions in Dalton's main hall, looking panicked. Kurt's mind instantly went into over-drive. Something had to be wrong, someone was sick, or maybe his father's heart started causing trouble again. Blaine noticed Kurt's chest begin to rise and fall in rapid succession and quickly took him by the shoulders.

"Breathe, Kurt, calm down. You're hyperventilating; you need to calm down a little." He briefly removed his right hand from Kurt's shoulder in order to rifle through his messenger bag, letting out a soft, victorious "aha!" as he pulled out the brown paper bag his lunch was stored in. Blaine dumped the containers in his bag and handed it to Kurt while simultaneously leading him over to a nearby bench. The frantic members of New Directions finally noticed Kurt and Blaine and hurried over, huddling around them.

"What's going on?" Blaine asked simply. Everyone spoke at once, a dozen voices spewing a thousand words, until Blaine held up his hands to silence them. "Woah, woah, what?"

"Have you seen the news today?" Finn asked, voice shaky and scared. Kurt and Blaine looked at each other, then back to the others, shaking their heads.

"We've been in class all morning," Kurt replied quietly, lowering the brown paper bag and trying to contain himself. "Why?"

"Is there a TV in this joint?" Puck asked while searching the immediate area for any signs of a television.

"There's one in the common room, by the dorms." Finn grabbed Kurt, who grabbed Blaine, and dragged him in what he seemed to remember as the general direction of Kurt's dorm. "Guys, really, what is going on?" Blaine was getting slightly impatient with this dramatic display, not to mention a little worried about just what could be so important that Kurt's friends all felt it appropriate to skip school in order to drive up to Dalton. No one answered, though, they just walked in silence until they reached the surprisingly empty room. Rachel grabbed the remote, flicked on the TV, and looked back at Kurt and Blaine.

"Those who are infected may display symptoms as soon as a few hours after initial exposure. Symptoms include vomiting, dizzy spells, bleeding sores, and pain in the extremities. Scientists currently have no treatment for this disease and people are being advised to avoid contact with anyone who may have come in contact with the infection at any point. Officials are asking people to stay in their homes until further notice, and, if travel is absolutely necessary, to only travel during the day."

All the color drained from Kurt's face as the news hit him. Blaine reached over, plucked the controller from Rachel's hand and muted the TV. Though he kept his composure as best he could Blaine was obviously worried. He took Kurt's hand in his own. He wanted to comfort him, but he also wanted the contact and, at the moment, didn't really care about keeping his feelings hidden. No one said anything for a moment, though they all shifted awkwardly, making random eye contact and attempting to find the words to express what they wanted to say.

"Why did you guys drive up here? Why not just call? They said not to go outside!" Kurt finally asked. His voice was angry on the surface, but Blaine – and Finn – could tell there was a level of relief mixed in as well.

"We tried. The phones aren't working," Artie said, adjusting and re-adjusting his glasses.

"We came to get you, white boy," Mercedes added, grabbing Kurt's free hand. "C'mon, we have to get back to Lima." Just as the words left Mercedes' lips the loudspeaker overhead crackled.

"Attention students: Due to recent events Dalton is now under a lock down. Please make your way to the dorms and remain there until further notice. We will inform you of any new reports as they come in."

The group looked at each other, unsure of what to do. The McKinley glee club wasn't really supposed to be on the campus, but more importantly none of them particularly wanted to stay there. They stood there in a semi-circle around the tv set, the silence in the air tense, uncomfortable, as the rest of the Dalton students began to filter in. No one knew what to do. The prefects weren't going to just kick them out, but they really couldn't force them to stay under the lockdown either. It was entirely up to the 11 terrified teenagers what they wanted to do.

"I vote we stay," Santana said, eyeing the group of boys who'd just entered the common room.

"I am not staying here, away from my family, my home, because you want to get laid, Santana," Quinn huffed.

"I don't think we should take any risks. We should stay right where we are until we're told we can leave," Rachel added. One by one they added their two cents and, when no clear winner was decided, broke into a bit of a squabble over just how they were going to handle this. Kurt wasn't participating in the conversation at hand. He was barely even registering it, in fact. His eyes were distant, his expression blank, and Blaine knew he was worrying about his father.

"Guys, guys," Blaine piped up, trying to get everyone's attention. "There's nothing more you can do from there than from here, why don't you stay here tonight," he glanced at the nearest prefect for approval, receiving a curt nod in reply before continuing, "and head back to Lima in the morning. There are only a few hours left of daylight and the news said it's safer to avoid being out at night, right?" The New Directions members held a quick conference with hushed but passionate voices until Finn finally spoke.

"Yeah, ok, that sounds fine." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and looked around at the small room, trying to figure out just how this was going to work.

Blaine had slightly ulterior motives for wanting them to stay the night. He was still worried about Kurt and he would feel a lot better about everything if they were together. Not to mention he couldn't stand being away from Kurt right now, he needed that anchor, he needed to be a little selfish. He masked all of this, of course, in the argument about day light and leaving in the morning, but really he just wanted to be with Kurt a little longer.

Once they'd agreed that New Directions would stay the night everyone dispersed across the common room. Most of the Dalton kids were heading back to their individual rooms, eager to find some way to contact their families, so the McKinley kids had the room mostly to themselves. A few of them gathered around the TV, waiting for more information and any indication of what was going to happen next. Others huddled together, talking in hushed voices, calming each other's fears and reassuring themselves that they were doing the right thing. Santana was flirting with a cute boy in a Dalton uniform who'd no doubt decided to stay in the common room upon spotting Santana and her Cheerios outfit. Blaine and Kurt didn't move. Kurt remained still as a statue, frozen by fear for his father and step-mother. Blaine turned and pulled Kurt into a hug, not caring that everyone was around and anyone could see. Kurt needed the comfort and Blaine needed the contact. They embraced silently for a minute before Blaine pulled back, though remaining as close as possible.

"Thank you," Kurt said, turning his face to Blaine's. Kurt looked exhausted, completely worn out, and it broke Blaine's heart to see him hurting. Blaine smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes, and led Kurt over to a loveseat set slightly apart from the rest of the kids in the room. "I just, I can't believe all of this is really happening," Kurt mumbled. Blaine nodded but said nothing, opting instead to rub Kurt's back in slow, gentle circles.

Time crept by slowly, seconds, minutes, hours, and the news just kept reporting the same thing. The room was generally quiet, everyone listening to the newscaster droning on about government reports and official requests, though occasionally conversation would break out here and there. When the news report began again for what might have been the hundredth time, Puck stood from where he was perched on the edge of the couch, frustration emanating from his very being.

"Fuck this, I can't stay here anymore," he stated. The others agreed in quick succession, even Santana (who'd long since lost interest in the boy she'd seen earlier). They wanted to go home. Kurt was the last to voice his opinion.

"Let's go, I can't sit here anymore." He looked from person to person, making eye contact with each before moving on. "I never thought I'd say this, but I have to get back to Lima."

"It's settled then," Rachel said, trying to take control, "c'mon, let's go." As New Directions filed out of the common room towards the main entrance, Kurt felt a light but firm hand on his wrist.

"I'm going, Blaine," he said before he'd even turned around.

"I'm coming with you."