The sound of his voice brought his grandmother to the door. "Kurt dear? Are you alright?"

"Come in." Afraid to lose the connection he didn't want to hang up and redial - what if Blaine didn't pick up the phone?

He explained to his grandmother and she slipped out of the room, returning with her own

cell phone and handed it to him. "Try him from mine. Leave yours open."

"He won't notice the beep with my line still open. BLAINE!" He continued trying to get Blaine to pay attention.

His grandmother sighed, "Kurt. Tell me the number to his room."

"Oh. Right." Kurt searched the number in his phone and read it off to his grandmother.

She dialed but when Kurt reached for the phone she held up a single finger, keeping the phone to her ear. "I'm sorry, I must have the wrong room, I'm looking for Blaine Anderson." She winked at Kurt.

"Hel…hello?" Blaine sounded thrown off.

"It's Kurt's grandmother, hold on to talk to him darling." She passed the phone to her grandson.

Kurt mouthed thanks to his grandmother as she slipped out, closing the door behind her. "Baby?"

He heard Blaine blow out a breath he'd been holding. "Thank God! Somebody sane."

"I can hear you on my cellphone, are you okay?"

"Well of course you can hear me on your cell phone…wait why did your grandmother call me?"

Your cell is on; you're still on the phone with me from last night. I'm talking to you from my Gran's cell. Why are you yelling?"

"I'm not yelling."

"Before, I could hear you, you sounded pissed."

"Oh THAT. These assholes won't give me my medication. Fucktards tell me I don't need it like I don't know when I'm in pain."

Kurt bit his lip. This was not his Blaine. He didn't swear, he didn't use any form of the word retard, and even his tone was laced with acid. "Hey Blaine?"

But Blaine was yelling again, arguing with whoever was in the room that he had certainly NOT already taken his pain meds today and he didn't care what that lying shit stain med nurse said.

"Babe. BABE!"

"Huh, oh, Kurt, tell them to give me my fucking pills will you?"

"Honey, try to focus for a minute. Have they changed your medication at all?"

"Oh so you're on their side now? Fuck you Kurt. I don't need this shit from you. Go make out with some more New York dudes."

And he hung up the phone.

Kurt picked up his cell and heard Blaine throwing everyone out of his room before the line went dead. He sat shaking for a minute, on the verge of tears, then hit speed dial 2 on his phone.

"Hello?"

"Carole, hi. It's Kurt, is my dad around?"

"Sure thing. How's New York? Are you having a good time?"

"Great. Carole I don't mean to be rude but I really need to speak to my dad."

"Okay honey, I'm bringing him the phone right now, he's out in the garage."

"Thanks."

"Hey Kurt! How're things in the Big Apple?"

"Dad, I need your help. " He'd told his father everything about seeing and speaking to Blaine after his talk with his grandmother. Burt had been understanding but firm about this being the end of the lies.

"What's wrong son?"

"There's something really wrong with Blaine. I need you to go to his rehab and check on him. Please Dad."

"Calm down and tell me what's going on."

Kurt gave his father the basics of the conversation and how unlike Blaine all of this was. He could hear, or maybe just knew his father well enough to imagine he could hear as his dad took off his hat, rubbed his hand over his face and replaced it.

"Buddy, Blaine's been through a lot in the past month or so. You're going to have to expect some outbursts. Give him some slack."

"You don't understand, this wasn't normal aggravation, he was out of control."

"I'll make you a deal; I'll call his dad and find out if he'd mind my paying Blaine a visit. If he says its okay I'll go see him tomorrow, but if he would prefer I don't I'm going to have to respect that Kurt."

"Can't you do it today? Dad I'm really worried about him."

"Not today. I have too much going on at the shop. Tomorrow, Kurt. He'll make it one more day. I'm sure he's just having a bad day. Why don't you wait a few hours and call him again."

Kurt thanked his dad, knowing he wasn't going to budge him and hung up the phone. He sent off a text message: MA: I love you. You're scaring me. Should I come home?

He stared expectantly at his phone for awhile, but no response came.

Giving up he headed to the shower, where his mind replayed everything Kurt had heard over the phone. This wasn't normal Blaine, but then, he hadn't been normal Blaine for awhile.

Medication. He wanted Kurt to help him get his pills. Thinking back it occurred to him that it was a rare conversation between them where Blaine had not mentioned pain pills, either taking or waiting for them.

His hands were shaking but he dialed anyway.

"Anderson Residence" it was a gruff voice on the other end of the phone and Kurt nearly hung up, but he didn't. He heard Blaine's voice in his head, angry and demanding.

"Mr. Anderson? It's Kurt…Hummel. I need to speak to you about Blaine."

There was silence for a moment and Kurt was concerned that he was about to be hung up on but then, "Can you hold please?"

"Sure." His throat was dry and the word came out like a croak.

A few moments later Mr. Anderson was back on the line. "Kurt if you're calling to ask me about seeing Blaine when you get home I haven't made that decision yet."

"No, Sir. I'm calling because I know that you and Blaine are working on your relationship and I'm worried about him. I spoke to him this morning and he was not himself. I'm afraid he may be depending too much on his painkillers."

Again a few moments of silence.

"How long?"

"What?" Kurt wasn't ready for that. "Probably since I started speaking to him again."

Was it a trap? Blaine hadn't told his father that Kurt had been speaking to him when he was in the mental hospital, and Kurt didn't want to tip his hand. "Some friends that were visiting him when…when I couldn't, told me he was always on pain killers when they saw him. Today when I spoke to him on the phone he was not himself. He wanted me to convince them to give him his painkillers."

"Could it just be that all of the physical therapy is more painful than we realize?"

Kurt considered this but shook his head, "I don't know if it's too painful, but I know that he's using it to block emotional stuff. The more I think about it. I told him something that happened last night, something that upset me and it upset him too. I asked him if he was going to be able to sleep and he said, not without meds. I don't think that's okay. Today when I talked to him he was verbally abusive."

Kurt's voice went quiet; he knew this was dangerous ground because Mr. Anderson was verbally abusive and may not think it was a problem.

Still he added quietly, "He's never spoken to me that way before, and I hope he never does again. He needs someone to protect him. This is your chance."