To: Kurt

Are we going to have our picnic tomorrow?

From: Kurt

To: Blaine

We will if you'll let me sleep. Kurt Hummel needs his beauty rest!

From: Blaine

To: Kurt

Alright, alright. I'll let you sleep, even though you're the most beautiful person in the world already. :)

From: Kurt

To: Blaine

Flattery is acknowledged, but it will get you nowhere mister.

From: Blaine

To: Kurt

Are you sure? ;)

From: Kurt

To: Blaine

Quite, now will you let me sleep, or will continue to pester me?

From: Blaine

To: Kurt

Fine, fine. Good night. I love you

From: Kurt

To: Blaine

I love you too

Kurt locked his phone, turning it on silent before placing it on his bedside table. A slight smile was placed on his face as he thought about the plans Blaine had set out for the two tomorrow. In the afternoon, they were going to head out to this quite park for a small picnic before going to the movie theater. Kurt was never into those comedic cheesy love movies, even with him being a bit of a hopeless romantic. Yet, to please Blaine, he agreed and couldn't help but smile as his boyfriend joyfully filed through all the movies that were placed in that genre that were currently playing. Honestly, Blaine can be so childish sometimes, and only the people closest to him will be able to witness it, since he holds up such a mature demeanor around his peers. He just wants to seem collected, which Kurt can understand. Blaine just doesn't want to seem like a coward anymore. He needs to have his head up high.

Taking a sip of water, Kurt turned to his side and closed his eyes. He knew he would have a peaceful sleep tonight, without any disturbances. It was what he strived for every night, to be at peace even with things troubling his mind. It worked most of the time, especially lately. Everything was...perfect. The perfect family, the perfect friends, the perfect boyfriend. They all had their flaws, which made them perfect to him. Kurt wouldn't trade these things for anything.

Soon, he was drifting into sleep, a smile still on his face.

***

A loud crash abruptly woke Kurt, and he quickly sat up, throwing his legs over the bed and running out into the hallway. Still being drowsy from sleep, it took awhile for his eyesight to focus. When he finally got out of his sleepy daze, the first thing he noticed was that he was not at home. Instead, he was standing in a hallway with stark white walls and cold linoleum flooring. Rooms lined the hallways, all the doors closed except one, which he noticed had a light turned on. This truly seemed like a nightmare. "Am I having one again?" Kurt pondered over this, standing in the middle of the hallways not bothering to think that someone could possibly come. Nobody did though, for a while, but there was a crash again, which the brunnette noticed was coming from the room at the end of the hallway. He spoke quietly to himself. "Well, people pinch themselves, to see if it's reality, in movies, right? That never works though, because then it just shows that it's reality they're living in." Nothing coming out of his mouth made any sense, except one thing which was the decision on pinching himself. He just shook his head, constantly muttering to himself that this was just a dream.

"Hey! What are you doing out of bed?" He turned his head, noticing a woman dressed in a nurses outfit, the same exact color as the walls. "I-I-I-" the words just weren't forming on his tongue since he was in such a state of shock. "Nurse Jole, will you please get this patient back into their room." A petite nurse came out from behind the other, her hair shortly cut and a shimmering blonde, even though it was completely dark except for the light bouncing against the walls from the room at the end. The smaller nurse only nodded, grabbing Kurt by the hand, muttering soothing words to get him back into 'his' room. She closed the door behind her, as if she thought he was going to escape. This dream was truly insane. The nurse named Jole led him to his bed, somehow making him lie down, as if it was a normal response.

Thoughts piled up into his mind, one thought in particular intriguing him. This was his dream, so he could control it. Well, not the full of it, but what he says. So, he thought to just play along. "Nurse." His tone was questioning, and Jole looked at him, with kind eyes that he just noticed were a sparkling green.

"Yes?"

"Where am I?"

The nurse looked at him, a confused look on her face, yet another look that made him notice that she thought he was crazy. Suddenly, a clipboard was in her hand, and she just muttered words that confused him entirely. "Memory loss...maybe it's just sleep, or shock." The words were said quietly as she penned them down, seeming as if she thought he couldn't hear them. He didn't ask questions, even though he was rather curious. His tongue was tied, and the words weren't coming. He just couldn't concentrate on those words, which was strange. He usually had such great concentration and care when he chose his words. Now, he just seemed confused, and everything was hazy.

"Okay, I think you should get back to sleep." He inwardly shouted 'yes' in such a joyful manner, since soon he would wake up from this dream. He glanced over at the nurse, noticing how she set the clipboard down and grabbed something rather...cylindrical. Weird word to think about, but everything here was odd. As she brought it closer he noticed that a needle was pointing out of the end, and the tube was filled with a liquid that had an odd coloring to it. Ever since he was eight, he's absolutely hated hospital needles. Sewing needles were fine, but hospital needles just terrified him. He squirmed restlessly as she brought it closer to his arm. "Please, sit still." There was a firmness in her voice that frightened Kurt, considering how small she was and just how...fragile she looked. He went rigid, and he could feel the small puncture as the cold needle entered his skin. Suddenly, his vision became blurry, and he was drifting farther and farther away from the visible world.

Soon, he would be awake, live and healthy, in his own room instead of the stark, cold room he was previously in. It was all just a dream, right?

As he opened his eyes, he noticed very familiar hazel brown eyes peering at him, the sun surrounding the image, making him look surreal. Kurt said a drowsy 'hey', feeling the smile stretching across his features. Yet, as his vision cleared, the boy that was previously standing over him, next to the bed vanished as if it was smoke. Well, that was rather strange.

Kurt anchored himself up by pushing against the mattress with his hands, rolling his shoulders as he did so. He rubbed his eyes, still drowsy from sleep, but as he opened them, he took in a sharp inhale of breath. He wasn't in his room, his room back at home with his Broadway musical records, aligned neatly on one of his shelves. His fur blanket wasn't draped over his bed, like normal, and instead was replaced by itchy woven blankets and sheets. He noticed the two large windows placed next to each other on the right wall, letting the sun in and overlooking a green field, surrounded by green trees. Was he still dreaming? He couldn't be. That was impossible. He knows how it is with dreams. Once it goes dark, you wake up, safely back in a warm bed and familiar surroundings. These surroundings weren't at all familiar.

"Oh, good. You're awake."

Jole entered the room, holding a tray of food. Was she always holding an object? She placed the tray on a bedside nightstand, and grabbed a few things from a desk on the opposite wall. "Okay, let's check your blood pressure." Blood pressure? Was he sick or something? She wrapped the horrid black fabric around his arm, pressing the small pressure pump. It was tight, and a bit too painful for his taste. Jole let go of the pump, letting it release until dotting down the results on that clipboard of her's. "Still normal. That's good." Next, she grabbed a stethoscope, pressing it against his skin, only a thin layer of fabric shielding him from the coldness he knew all to well, which was strange. How did he know this? He only visited to hospital once when it was just for him. Sure, he's been to the hospital when his mother was...dying and same goes for his father. Luckily his father lived and recovered fully. Yet, somehow he just new how that stethoscope felt. "Heart rate isn't elevated. Still normal." She was muttering to herself mostly, but Kurt could hear her as she dotted more info on the clipboard.

"Dr. Hanson will be here momentarily. You should eat your breakfast before he gets here." Kurt was too stunned to say anything, and he watched as she left the room. He looked at the tray of food, none of it looking at all appetizing. There were two pieces of burnt toast, a plate of green jello, a bowl of cereal which just looked like corn flakes, which he hated, and a glass of orange juice. The only thing that looked actually edible and wouldn't hurt his stomach was the cereal. He picked up the bowl carefully, grabbing the spoon that was sticking out of the milk and soggy cereal. He almost dropped it though when he noticed what apparel he was wearing. A pale yellow, v-neck shirt, and he was assuming matching pants as well. Pale yellow was something that didn't appeal to him if it was the main color. It just didn't work. As an accent, sure, but not as a whole. Where was he?

Losing his appetite, he placed the bowl back on the tray, just as a tall, rough looking man came in. His eyes were kind though, which was good...he guessed. "Good evening Kurt. How are we today?" Wait. This man knew his name? What was going on here? His gaze followed the man as he picked up the clipboard. The man hummed to himself a short little 'hm'. "I see that you haven't been participating in the daily activities and that you lashed out at one of our patients again. Oh." The man looked shocked at first, as he adjusted his glasses. "Memory loss? This is new." The man looked at Kurt, and walked over to his bedside, pulling up a chair and sitting down, the clipboard still in hand.

"Excuse me, sir, but where am I and who are you?" Kurt had finally found his voice, and the man in front of him became wide eyed. He just continued to look at him, glancing nervously around at Kurt's face, which he found rather odd. It was if he was seeing if Kurt was being serious or not with his question. "You're serious, aren't you." It wasn't a question, but rather a statement. So, Kurt didn't make any response to it. He was hoping for the classic 'you're in a dream and I'm some-person-that-you-see-in-real-life-but-never-acknowledge', but the man in front of him said nothing similar to those words. This was all so confusing.

There was more muttering. "Seriously, how many people mutter in this place?" Something about 'jogging your memory'. "What was the last thing you remember Kurt, from two days ago?" Why was this man asking all these questions? Kurt couldn't help but answer, with the truth. "I remember going to the mall with some of my friends, and texting my boyfriend before going to sleep and waking up here." Agitation. That was what was in his voice and the man in front of him took note of that. There was more writing and more muttering. This was really getting tiring.

"Listen, can you just tell me where I am and who you are?" Anger. A feeling he hasn't felt in a long time. He's felt pain and sadness, but never anger. What's happening?

"Kurt, you're in the BCA Ohio Hospital for Psychiatry, and I'm Dr. Hanson, your therapist.' He seemed rather concerned about Kurt's confusion to where he was placed, and how he had no recollection of who the doctor was. "I'm in a...mental hospital?" It came out rather breathless and quietly, but the doctor only nodded. "That can't be right. Just a few hours ago I was in my room, back at home in Lima, Ohio texting my boyfriend...this is all just a dream. A wild, crazy dream." "Kurt, you don't have a boyfriend, this isn't a dream and you don't even have a cell phone." It was rather pushed, the statement that his apparent therapist made as if he's trying to make Kurt wrap his head around the fact that he isn't having a dream. "Now, I want you to take a deep breath, alright?" Kurt did as he was told, taking a deep, calming breath. He didn't know why he was following the doctor's instructions, but something about him made Kurt have trust. "Good, good. Now, I want you to close your eyes and tell me about your life." And Kurt did just that. He told him his entire life history. Well, the things that were deemed important.

Forty-five minutes had passed until he had finished his explanation. He didn't open his eyes though, since he was still held on the belief this wasn't reality, and if he didn't open his eyes he would fall back asleep and wake up back at home. Sleep wasn't coming though, and Dr. Hanson's voice penetrated his thoughts. "Now Kurt, I want you to tell me more about Blaine." "Why?" His eyes are still closed. "You seem to brighten up when you say his name." Well, this was odd. Just because he brightened up when he heard Blaine's name doesn't really seem to matter this doctor. He told him anyway, every little detail about Blaine. How his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, the way he smells the cinnamon and coffee, the way he's always trying to help a person in need, to make up for his own mistakes. It just brings a smile to Kurt's face as he pictures the boy, with his warm smile and bright hazel eyes.

"Kurt," he could feel someone put their hand over his, yet it didn't faze him. "Open your eyes, and look at me." The smile disappeared as Kurt turned to look at his doctor. "I want you to realize what your condition is. I know, this may seem a bit forced given what you've been experiencing, but this life you think you have...it isn't real." "Of course it's real. If it's not real, then how can I remember every little detail?" The doctor shook his head. "You're having delusions, Kurt. It's part of you symptoms, but it's never been this strong." The word struck Kurt like a barreling train. Delusions. This was just all so confusing. "Listen, Kurt. I'm going to try and explain to you what's happening with as much care as possible, okay?" He nodded. It would be good to have at least some explanation. "You've been at this hospital for five months now, and you've lived like any other patient in this building." Hanson took a breath. "Your father, who is in fact, the only real person in your life that you described from your story, brought you here. The reason for this is because you were diagnosed with a disease called Schizophrenia, and your father just wanted you to be cured."

"Schizophrenia? What are you talking about?"

"It's a mental disease, Kurt. A very complex one that can't be fully cured. The delusion you've been having, it isn't real. It's just your subconscious, creating a world in your mind that you believe in so much because you want to."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I just don't want you believing in people and things that aren't real."

"But they are real..." It was barely a whisper and the man soon interjected. "They aren't real." Dr. Hanson let go of his hand and stood up, grabbing the clipboard that he previously set down during the forty-five minutes Kurt explained his life story, that was apparently all a lie. "I'm going have to schedule an appointment with you for later in the afternoon, and the same for tomorrow." There was more scribbling of the pen. "There is one upside to this though." A quizzical look was sent his way. "You're starting to show more emotion than just anger and impassiveness." He smiled as he hung up to clipboard and walked out of the room. Now Kurt was finally alone, for the most part.

Was this really the life that he always lived, and the one he thought was real was just his imagination? That couldn't be it. The other world felt so...real. The life he lived felt like it was apart of him, yet somehow in the back of his mind this place seemed so familiar.

"You should really stop over thinking about these things."

Kurt looked up abruptly, but no one was there. He heard that voice, the familiar voice that he loved hearing so much. No one was in the room though, and it just made Kurt a bit more sad than he already was. "Alright Kurt, it's time for the morning activities." He turned his head to look at Jole who made a reappearance.

"What are the morning activities?"

"Well, for today, I'm supposed to take you to the recreation room so you can spend some time with the other patients, and then later you will take a walk out in the gardens." He knew her smile was fake. Jole didn't seem to like it here very much. It was mostly just a job to her, and probably most to the other whacked up employees in this place.

"Oh, you didn't even touch your breakfast." Disappointment.

"It looked unappetizing."

"Dear, you're looking a little pale. You have to eat something."

Kurt shook his head. He didn't even feel hungry. The nurse sighed.

"Alright, but you have to eat something at lunch. Now let's get you to the rec room."

"Can you wait outside for a bit. I need to think think for a moment."

Another quizical look. "I-I guess I could do that."

Jole walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind her. Kurt threw the covers off his body and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, touching the surprisingly carpeted floor. He thought it to be the same linoleum that was out in the hallway, but no. It was just a rugged, white carpet.

Kurt stood up, stretching out his limbs before scanning the room to take in a bit more details. The was a painting of a village on the wall opposite the one the bed was propped up against. A dresser was under the painting, but Kurt knew that there wasn't really anything in there. It was probably just for show.

There was an orange and yellow floral quilt neatly folded at the end of the bed, probably there in case the person using the bed got cold. It was a rather neatly decorated room, just not his taste. It looked too much like a nursing home to him, especially with the yellow walls that matched the color of the clothes he was wearing. He looked at the chair that his therapist had sat down in earlier, before leaving. The was a gray sweater draped over it. It was a rather long sweater, so he pulled it off the chair and pulled it on. The sleeves were a little long, but other than that it was the absolutely perfect size. He knew this sweater. It was in the back of his closet back at home...well, the home he thought he knew.

Kurt closed his eyes, a frustrated sigh escaping from his mouth. Best get this day over with.

***

He was walking with Jole now, her not letting him out of her sight, as if he would try and escape. He wish he had shoes or something, because the floor was absolutely freezing, but no. He had to go barefoot. They were now entering a rather large room, filled with people in the same clothes as him. He shuddered. It was a rather large space, with at least four chess boards and there was a little sitting area near a very large bay window. There was another one near a fireplace, but there was only a vase of flowers up on the mantle.

"Alright, Kurt. I'll be back in an hour along with the other nurses to take you outside." Another fake smile. Kurt nodded and watched as she padded off, out of the double doors and out of sight. Kurt looked frantically around, wondering if he would see someone familiar, as if somehow his lives still meshed with that of his friends. Yet, all these faces were the ones of strangers and Kurt suddenly felt singled out.

Shyly, he went to the sitting area near the bay window, since there was only one other person there and they had their nose stuck in a book.

Kurt sat down in one of the chairs facing towards the window, let the warmth of the sun fill him up. He felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up, wondering who was bothering his solitude. It was the person with the book, who appeared to be a girl a little younger than him. She bared a resemblance to Jole greatly, with her golden blonde hair and the color of he eyes. Except, her hair fell into curls at the ends. She looked rather adorable.

"Can I talk to you?"

Well, that was a rather odd question. Why would someone ask permission to talk to another? Well, maybe it's more common than he thought. Kurt nodded and his gaze followed the girl as she took the seat to the right of him, and he noticed how thin she was.

It took awhile for her to get situated but his gaze never left her. It wasn't that he was interested in her, because it's pretty obvious that he is capital 'G' gay. She just seemed like a person who felt singled out, like himself.

She looked up, smiling a small smile, which was strange because it didn't seem fake. It was like she actually wanted to talk to him and possibly be sort-of-friends.

"I'm Marlena. What's yours?"

A cough. "Kurt."

"Well, it's nice to meet you Kurt. Why were you placed here?"

"What?" Confusion.

"What mental illness do you have?"

What a great first question, he thought sarcastically. Well, it was actually the fourth question he was asked by this girl. But still.

"I don't know really." Truth. " My therapist told me I have Schizophrenia and that I've been here for five months but I don't remember any of my time here. He said I was having a delusion of an entirely different life that was just my imagination, even though it feels like it's real."

Now he felt like he was coming off as a lunatic tot his girl, but they were in a mental hospital, so maybe this was just normal, since she didn't seem phased by anything he said.

"I've never met someone with your disorder before, although I'm not much of a talker."

"Really? You seem to be talking a lot to me."

"Well, you have my sister as a nurse, so I kind of know you already even though we've never talked before."

More confusion, but Kurt didn't say anything about Jole, since it seemed that a sad tone overtook Marlena's voice when she said 'my sister'.

"What's your disorder?"

She seemed to squirm a bit in her seat, as if she was uncomfortable to talk about it. Instead, she mumbled.

"I have—I mean...I'm anorexic, I have anxiety disorder, but I also have conduct disorder."

Before he could ask her what conduct disorder was, she continued on speaking.

"I need to have everything in order and I can never be relaxed. It's not that big of a deal, but apparently therapy was what was called for, so my parents dropped me off here. My sister took a job here a month after I came.

There was a moment of silence as Kurt turned to look back out of the window. It seemed, even though this was a mental hospital and the patients probably talked about it all the time, that the mention of disorders just saddened the patients even further, since it basically meant they were freaks. Everyone in this building was singled out by the outside world. It was saddening, and Kurt wondered if he would have to live in this building forever. If this was truly the reality and everything he loved was just fiction.