Kurt tried to stand, hoping to go downstairs, but his legs shook beneath him, causing him to lean back on his bed for support. By chance, Burt had been walking by and noticed this. He entered the room at once.

"Hey! Kurt, you alright, buddy?"

"Yeah. I just . . . I was trying to stand."

"Lay down." Burt told him, helping him back into bed. "You had a rough night."

"What happened?"

Burt stalled, looking down at the comforter. "It was bad night." He stated. "Doctor Fitzgerald will be over in a few. You just sit tight, okay? You want anything to eat or drink? You must be starving."

Fitzgerald? If Kurt's old psychologist was coming by, then it wasn't just a bad or rough night, it was horrible. Kurt tried to think back, but his head hurt too much to function. Leaning back, he shook his head.

"I'll have Carole make you something just in case. It was bad enough to sleep on an empty stomach, you can't spend the day with one."

Burt left the room, sending Carole up a few minutes later. She brought him toast, orange juice, and water. Kurt was stuck between being hungry and feeling nauseous, but he thanked her and took the tray. He ate two pieces and drank half the OJ, though it burned his throat harshly. Coughing, he switched with the water. It was cold and tasteless, so it worked well with him.

After eating, he placed the tray beside his bed and waited for Dr. Fitzgerald to come. It had been almost a year since he last saw her. After the incident, Burt thought it would be best for Kurt to talk to a professional. Kurt was resistant at first, but eventually the idea grew on him. Kurt had always been a vocal person, but when it came to his deepest thoughts, he kept to himself. So it was hard for him to get down deep with someone, especially someone he didn't even know.

When she finally showed up, she came straight to his room, as sat across from him in the computer chair from his desk. She asked him what he remembered from the previous night, and when he said nothing, she went on to tell him that he had slips in and out of past. This confused Kurt. How could someone slip in and out of the past?

Then she told him he was suffering from PTSD, also known as Posttraumatic stress disorder. Kurt remembered being diagnosed after the attack, but he thought he beat it as time went on. Fitzgerald explained it could come back at the strangest of moments; all that was needed was for something to trigger it.

When Burt showed her the licenses plate, she knew it had to be that. Kurt begged for details, figuring he had the right to know. She slowly told him how he screamed to the attackers, begging them to stop, and to leave him alone. He cried Dave's name, and cried Burt's. He cried for help, but no one came. He stopped after a while, and passed out, only to wake from a nightmare several hours late. The whole shebang repeated itself until he was knocked out for good.

Kurt felt lower than low. He thought he had moved on from the nightmares and reliving the past. When he asked her if she thought the PTSD would repeat, and he'd be just as bad as he used to be, she politely declined this idea. Though it was a traumatic evening, she figured that was the worst of it. She told him the nightmares may continue, and if so, he was to call her. She wanted to set up meetings again, just to talk.

Kurt felt weak and alone, but agreed. If he wanted to beat this thing for good, he was gonna have to start from scratch. He agreed to go every other day, three times a week, for an hourly session. He hated having to deal with all this again, but he knew he had no other option. It was this or deal with the nightmares, and there was no way he was going through that again.

He smiled gracefully and thanked the doctor as she took her leave. Lying back in his bed, Kurt sighed, wondering if he'd ever be close to normal again.