Anyway, the therapist told him another one of his symptoms. Well, Kurt knew that was part of his disorder, but Hanson got into more detail yesterday. Apparently, Blaine is an illusion, a vision rather. Kurt is really getting annoyed at how they keep on telling him that Blaine isn't real, he never existed and all that. Kurt knew what he saw, and what he saw was very real. He held on to him for dear life, for gods sake, so he can't be just an illusion...can he? Kurt didn't want to dwell on it forever though, and he decided it best not to mention it today since he was seeing his father. The father in this world, not the one he knows in his delusion. He doesn't even know the father in this world, since apparently they only visit every so often. Well, his father anyway. He's seen family members of some of the patients visit almost every single day so far, and he's only just woken up here for six days, give or take. It's just kind of heartbreaking.

Kurt was walking through the hallways now, towards the front entrance where he was going to meet up with him. He was just wearing a pair of skinny jean, a blank white t-shirt, a red jacket and some black converse. At least his fashion sense isn't any different here.

He looked at the walls of the main hallway as he made his way out. They were full of paintings of the residents, and they were all different, yet each the same by showing emotion. Not the same emotion, but emotion. Painting was on the list of afternoon activities tomorrow, since his therapist thinks that it will be better therapy than him just talking. Kurt just thinks that Hanson is becoming insane himself by Kurt's persistence at trying to prove that everything he saw and experienced was real. His therapist needs a well deserved break.

***

He was out the front doors now, and he saw Burt standing there, a smile on his face. It didn't look...real though. It seemed as if he was trying to put on a show as well, trying to be on his best behavior. Kurt could see the pain in his eyes, all the suffering. Kurt wished he could make it all go away. He wished a lot of things these days.

Yet his father's posture didn't stop Kurt from walking briskly up to the man and giving him a fierce hug. Burt seemed taken aback by the gesture, but he returned it, and the two stayed like that for awhile, until Burt pulled back, smiling at his boy. He pulled Kurt towards the car and soon they were on the road.

***

They were sitting in a coffee shop now, The Lima Bean. Burt was never a big fan of the coffee they sold there but Kurt insisted. The two were sitting in the back corner, and while Kurt took a sip of his usual, well the usual in his other life, Burt was enjoying a rather large chocolate donut.

Burt was the first to break the silence. "I brought something for you." The man produced a red shopping bag that Kurt was wondering about only moments ago. From the bag Burt pulled out a rather raggedy looking stuffed animal, that appeared to be a lion. It seemed rather old, and the memory of it was faint. Kurt took it in his hands and turned it over in his hands, taking in every detail.

"I found it while cleaning out a bit of the attic. I remember how you would never let it out of your sight, and always kept it close. I think you lost it around the age of eight."

Kurt looked up at Burt and only mouthed a slight thank-you before looking back at the small thing. He placed it in his lap and continued to drink his coffee, the silence stretching until Kurt was on the last drop of coffee. He decided it was time for him to ask a question that has been burdening his mind the past few days. He knew that it wold strike something, but natural curiosity always gets the best of him.

"Dad..."

Burt looked up.

"I was wondering if you could answer a question of mine."

The man only nodded.

"I've seem to have forgotten something, a memory I think, and I deem it rather important since my therapist seems to be bringing it up quite often."

Burt tensed at the sound of 'therapist' and Kurt knew he struck a nerve there, since there was a deep sadness in his eyes.

"And what is that question?"

"Seven months ago, something happened to trigger, well...this," Kurt knew that his father knew what 'this' meant, "and I'm just wondering what that event was."

A pause and another drawn out silence. It seemed as if the silence lasted for an eternity, until the man finally spoke, in a very brisk and hushed tone.

"Listen, Kurt, I don't know if I'm the right one to tell you..." Burt saw the desperation in Kurt's eyes, "But, I guess I could show you." A look of confusion crossed the younger boy's features. His father told him to gather his things, and soon they were out the door and in the car again.

***

It took awhile for them to reach their destination, but as Kurt looked out the window, he noticed that they were at the cemetery, and there was a rather horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. His dad stepped out of the car, and Kurt did the same, following Burt into the massive array of headstones, the lion safely held within Kurt's grasp.

They stopped, and Kurt looked down.

"I'll be back in the car." Burt walked off, leaving Kurt alone in front of the white headstone. He knelt down, and read the inscription.

Kurt didn't cry. He thought he should, but he didn't. He only let one tear escape, trekking down his face, staining it with a tint of red. That was all that escaped though, but the tears did burn his eyes. He wiped them away with the back of his hand. He felt empty inside, like a part of him just vanished, and a part did vanish. Everything he thought he knew vanished, leaving an empty void in that small part of his heart and mind.

A voice startled him, but he didn't turn around.

"I'll always be here, this isn't the end."

"But you aren't here. You just an illusion, like everyone said. This is the end."

He could feel the weight of Blaine's hand on his shoulder, but it felt so wrong. Blaine was dead, that was the truth. Blaine's death caused this, the trigger. Kurt didn't want to know how he died though. That would be useless information.

The weight was gone, as if Blaine disappeared into smoke. That's what he saw anyway, out of the corner of his eye. The other boy's voice came into his head, but it was only a murmur.

"No, it's not."

A sigh escaped his mouth, a hint of sadness and frustration coming to it. He didn't know what to believe anymore. Everything he knew was gone, and he didn't even know how to live in this life. His father was a different man, and Kurt himself was a different person. The boy didn't know what to do.

***

A half hour passed before Kurt decided it was time to leave. He just needed to think for awhile, and that's what he did. Thinking time was over for now, so Kurt bent forward a bit and placed his stuffed animal in front of the headstone, sitting it upright. Blaine needed it more than him anyway.

He stood up, brushing off the dirt of his jeans and walked the path that he somehow remembered they took to get there. He caught a glimpse of his mother's resting place, but he only stood there for a moment. He didn't need to be saddened anymore, so he continued on his walk until he reached the car.

They drove back in silence.

***

Kurt was in his room now, the hospital room, fumbling with a pen that he found hidden in one of the drawers of the bureau. He really didn't know what to do, even though he knew exactly what to do, if that makes any sense. The nurses would be coming soon, to give him his sleeping drug, so he had to be quick.

Throwing the pen onto the floor without a care, he reached under the bed and pulled out a hand gun. His father had it in his car, for emergencies even though Burt was too fragile to use such a weapon. He kept it there anyway, and the young boy swiped it when they had to fill up on gas. It was rather easy.

He couldn't stay here any longer, he just couldn't, so he knew that this was the only way out. It wasn't just because of Blaine. No it was much more than that, so much more. So, he readied the gun, and placed it against the side of head, feeling the cold metal. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and opened them again, pulling the trigger. A shot rang out and all nurses rushed to the room.

***

Kurt sat up suddenly, the blinding sun flashing in his eyes. He covered them with his hand before opening them again and taking in his surroundings. He was in a field, sitting on a picnik blanket and there were trees in the distance.

"Are you alright Kurt?"

The brunette turned his head, and saw Blaine as clear as daylight kneeling in front of him, a cup of water in his hands. Well, this was odd.

"Is this real?"

"Of course it's real. Why wouldn't it be real?"

Kurt just shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He decided not to tell Blaine. "Just a bad dream is all."

"Well, you took a rather long nap. Didn't get enough sleep I suppose."

Yeah, that must be it. Just sleep deprivation. His breathing calmed, and he got into the same position as Blaine. He nodded to the boy, agreeing with what he just said. "Yeah, just not enough sleep." A grin stretched across the other boy's face as he took a sip of his water. Kurt reached into the basket that he just noticed and pulled out a piece of bread and started nibbling on it. Everything was just a dream and Kurt's mind was at ease for once.

What he didn't notice was the stuffed lion stuffed into Blaine's bag carelessly, it's little mane poking out. It seemed old, and raggedy, as if it has been lost in time.

Fin