Kurt was late. He wasn't extremely late or anything that would normally be worrying, but all the same, Kurt was never late. Adam supposed he could have been held back in his last class or was trying to perfect another dance move and lost track of the time, it didn't have to be anything worrying, right?

And they didn't necessarily have a set time that they were supposed to meet up. 'After classes' was pretty vague, and—was that Santana? Why was she here? How did she keep getting in? Didn't she have a job?

Adam sighed as he set off after her. If she got to Kurt he might need rescued before their afternoon plans were canceled. Again.

"Did you get weird texts too?"

How did she manage to find him so quickly?

Kurt said something in reply, but Adam couldn't make out what it was. "Brittany keeps sending me texts. None of them make sense, it's the middle of the afternoon, and she seems scared."

Adam entered the dance rehearsal room (where Kurt always seemed to be, maybe he could think of it as their space...) and saw Santana shoving her phone in Kurt's face.

"Rachel doesn't know anything about it, but she doesn't know anyone at the school. Nobody is answering my calls. What if she's hurt?"

Oh. This seemed serious then, maybe he shouldn't interrupt them.

"Blaine just keeps... apologizing," Kurt sounded uncertain, and started going through his own phone. "For... everything. Everything he's done since we met. What is going on? Last I heard they were singing to Brittany's cat."

"I'm not sure... oh. She answered again..."

Adam was starting to get a really bad feeling about this.

"K-Kurt?" That's not good. No. Santana was not supposed to sound... broken. "She... she said she heard a gunshot."

He was suddenly very glad he was standing in a corner where he could sink down to the floor unnoticed. Even without the emotional attachment to anyone at the school, this was horrible.

"No. Nonononononono." Kurt was chanting, his voice getting steadily higher. "She's... she's Brittany. She doesn't know what a gun sounds like. It could have been something else. She's just... she's just confused and..."

"She knows what the hell she's talking about," Santana snapped.

"No," Kurt insisted. "She's wrong. She has to be. She's... she's wrong."

From his vantage point behind a stack of boxes, Adam could see Kurt's knees buckle as he fell to the floor in an undignified lump. Santana went over to him, putting an arm around his shoulders and whispering something to him.

"He's not answering. He was texting me before and he stopped," Kurt was in tears now, apparently getting over his denial fairly quickly. "Why isn't he answering?"

Santana was silent, and Adam felt his chest tighten.

Kurt dialed a number, pressing it to his ear impatiently. "Answer. Answer me, damn you. Pick up the phone. Please."

Nothing. Kurt redialed.

"Blaine, pick up. Please. You... you promised. Blaine, you promised you would always pick up my calls. You have to answer."

"They have to stay quiet," Santana said to him, her voice sounding strangled. "That's all. They can't talk, it'll draw attention."

The sob Kurt let out was heartbreaking.

"Text him," Santana urged. "He'll be able to answer that."

"He stopped responding!" Kurt shouted, and Adam felt the words like a punch in the gut. "He hasn't answered me, he just apologized for everything and then—then." The rest of Kurt's words were drowned out in his sobs.

Santana was crying now, too, looking lost. She kept staring at her phone like she was willing it to light up.

"He... he kept saying he was sorry. What if he was planning on... on doing something heroically stupid? And he g-got himself... and he's..." the sobs were shaking Kurt's entire body now.

"Stop that," Santana said, sounding stern. "He's fine. They're all fine. Schuester is a dumbass hack but he wouldn't let that happen."

"He wouldn't even stop the football players from shoving me when he saw it happening, what the hell is he going to do when someone has a... a..."

"Come on," there was forced cheer in her voice, but even from across the room Adam could see how hard Santana's hands were shaking. "Blainers is going to win them Nationals, Schue would sacrifice someone else first."

"That's horrible," Kurt said, but his breathing was back into non-hyperventilating territory now.

"No, come on. Think about it. He's ended his love affair with Frankenteen, he's going to be looking for a new favorite to perv on. And that means either Trouty Mouth or Frodo. So they'll be fine."

While clearly a coping mechanism, Adam really didn't think this was an appropriate conversation to be having.

"Sam is the improved Finn, but Blaine didn't have anyone staring at him while he was in the school showers..."

Really, Kurt? You're going along with this?!

"See, they're probably having a "this could be our last day on earth" orgy!"

This, apparently, was the wrong thing to say, because Kurt burst into tears again.

"They could actually die, and I didn't... we had an argument the other day. I didn't... I didn't apologize. He said it was fine, that it didn't matter, but oh god—"

Breathe, Kurt, please. Breathe.

Santana was apologizing for her choice of words, Kurt was gasping for air but not seeming to get any, and Adam felt ready to cry himself. How was this happening?

Kurt's phone started to ring and all three of them froze in disbelief for about ten seconds before Kurt scrambled to answer it.

"Hello?"

Adam couldn't believe how hard he was wishing that it was Blaine on the other end.

"Tina. Hi. What's going on?"

"Is Brittany okay?" Santana asked, leaning an ear against Kurt's phone to hear better.

"Wait, you're outside? How did you get out? Where's everyone else?"

There was a pause, where Tina answered Kurt's questions.

"So... so you don't know... you don't know if Blaine's—"

Adam watched as Santana took the phone away as Kurt dissolved into tears again.

"What the hell is going on in there?"

A pause. Adam was ready to go find a paper bag for Kurt who looked ready to either pass out or throw up.

"No, no I get it. It's not your fault. We're glad you're—you're safe. Just. Did you see Brittany?"

"Right. Thanks, thanks anyway. What? Um. No... we haven't heard anything in... in awhile. He was texting Kurt but he... stopped."

There was another pause. In any other situation the look of "so out of my depth" would look like funny on Santana.

"Okay, listen. Tina. Tina. Listen to me. You're going to hang up, okay, and then you're going to call your parents. They're probably going out of their minds. Then you're going to text Mike. Do not argue with me. You're going to tell him that you're fine, and you'll make Blaine call him later, okay?"

Kurt was sitting up against a mirror, his legs pulled up to his chest, arms resting on them with his head buried there. His shoulders were moving in a steady rhythm with each breath and he seemed to be calming himself down.

"Good girl. I'm hanging up now. Remember. Parents first, then text Mike. You don't even have to talk to him, okay? Okay. Bye."

Santana looked sick.

"I know that caring about other people is a hard task for you," Kurt muttered into his arms. "Thanks for trying anyway."

They were quiet for a few minutes, the only sound coming from their phones as they repeatedly sent texts that went unanswered.

Kurt's phone rang again.

He stared blankly at it.

Santana looked over his shoulder, sighed, and rubbed his shoulder awkwardly.

"You have to answer him."

Kurt nodded, took several deep breaths, and put the phone to his ear.

"Hey dad, what's up?"

Adam was shocked at the tone of voice. He'd seen Kurt having a breakdown not five minutes ago, and now he sounded calm if not slightly tired. No sign of nerves or tears.

"I—yeah. I heard," Kurt said, looking at Santana as if she had the answer to whatever was going on. "Santana's with me, Brittany, uh, texted her. To let her know what happened. And I just got off the phone with Tina, she says that the SWAT team was on the way last she heard. She's outside the building."

Kurt's dad says something that causes Kurt to stiffen and force his breathing to steady out again.

"He, um, he texted me earlier. I wasn't really sure what he was talking about at the time, but it makes sense now, you know? But, uh, no. I haven't... he hasn't answered me in... in awhile."

Kurt goes from visibly trying to pull himself together to terrified in a shockingly short amount of time, and Adam's worried that Mr. Hummel just delivered horrible news.

"Dad! Dad, please, you have to calm down. Your heart," Kurt's voice, despite his appearance, is calm but firm.

Whatever his father says in response is enough to make Kurt's face fall and then harden. He closes his eyes and takes several deep breaths before replying.

"Yes, dad, I know what's going on. I'm fully aware of what that means. But I need you to calm down because this much stress isn't good for you."

Adam remembers Kurt telling him about his dad's heart attack. His boyfriend had looked haunted as recounted the week that his father had been in a coma and how terrified he'd been that he wouldn't wake up. And another memory, something he'd said to Blaine a few weeks ago.

I don't want to be an orphan. I'm not... I'm not ready for that.

Kurt's demeanor this phone call makes much more sense.

"Of course I care!" he finally snaps. "He's my best friend and he could die if he's not dead already. I know. If someone from that hellhole is going to go shooting students do you really think the remaining gay kids aren't first on their hit list?"

Santana chokes out a sob. The sound is so wrong coming from her.

"I know this, and it's not like the universe has been particularly giving to me. But dad, I need you to calm down. I can't deal with what might happen to Blaine if you're in the hospital again."

Kurt is crying again. Harder than he had been, but still getting enough air. Small mercies.

"I didn't mean to yell at you. Sorry. I just... it's... he's Blaine."

In any other situation Adam might've felt jealous about the amount of adoration Kurt manages to put into one syllable, but the emotion won't come. He thinks of his best friend, still in England, and tries not to cry himself when he imagines being in Kurt's place.

"Right. Yeah. I'll... I'll try texting him again. He's got to answer sometime, right?" Kurt was probably going to nonchalant, but his voice breaks again on the last word, like the question just occurred to him.

"Yeah. I love you too. Bye, dad."

Kurt hangs up his phone, and cries into his arms again. Santana looks at him like she'd like to help but is too drained to do so.

They sit still for a few minutes until Kurt shakes his head, mutters something, and goes back to texting. It doesn't seem to be enough for him though, because he starts calling again.

Over. And over. And over.

"He's not going to pick up," Santana reminds him.

"Personalized voice mail," Kurt responds. "I'm going to keep listening to it." He hangs up, calls again. "And keep listening to it until he picks up." Again. "Because it's his stupid, ridiculous voice." Again. "And I might nev—Blaine?"

Adam let out a sigh of relief so hard he was afraid Kurt and Santana had heard it. Though he doubted they would have noticed him if he'd jumped out and started tap dancing.

"Are you okay? You're not hurt right?"

"What about Brittany?" Santana practically yelled into the phone, her own sitting forgotten beside her. "Where is she? Is she okay?"

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut as if bracing himself, "They don't know where she was, she was late to practice and wasn't with them."

Santana looked like she'd just been slapped.

"Mr. Schue just went to look for her," Kurt said, listening to whatever Blaine was saying. "And Sam ran out to find her as soon as they got the all clear."

Santana nodded at him before grabbing her phone and texting furiously.

"You're safe," Kurt breathed into his phone, his hands still visibly shaking. "Don't ever do that to me again."

Blaine replied, and Kurt let out a laugh that was only slightly strangled sounding.

"Yeah, you should probably not read those. Or listen to the voice mails. It's a lot of me yelling at you."

Now that everything seemed to be fine and Adam was no longer a ball of nerves, he wondered how he was going to get out of the room without anyone noticing.

"I was terrified, don't you do that to me again, ever." Kurt paused to wipe his eyes. Apparently the crying wasn't over just because the fear was. "And all those things you were apologizing for? I forgave you for years ago. I promise. The Gap Attack is nothing but a traumatizing memory."

Kurt was quiet for a bit. "Oh, no. She's fine. She managed to get outside, she's alright." Pause. "She called me awhile ago, yeah. Don't worry about it."

Kurt let his head fall back into the mirror, his eyes closed in relief. "You're okay."

Blaine responded, and Kurt tensed up again. "No. You shouldn't."

Blaine argued whatever his point was.

"You're already making an important call, Blaine."

Another argument.

"Tina can go to hell!" Santana snickered. "No, you're talking to me and you're not getting off the damn phone. She is fine and she can see you later and—" Kurt was crying again.

Santana managed to get someone to answer her call and had wandered off further into the room so she could hear. Adam made himself comfortable.

"You just started apologizing, then Santana said there was a shooter, and you weren't answering me even though you promised you would always answer my calls, and I thought you'd- you'd... You're Skyping me. Tomorrow. Morning. And Tina can wait her damn turn, I was here first."

Poor Tina.

"Or what? She'll vaporape you again? You're not hanging up on me."

Vapo... what?

"Blaine, please."

Really, Blaine, really? How the hell are you even considering hanging up on him? He sounds like he's ready to start sobbing. Don't make him cry again, you arse.

"Thanks."

It was amazing how quickly Kurt could go from sounding argumentative and demanding to sounding so damn small.

"You are okay, right?"

Blaine answered, and Adam could only imagine what the response would be. Even if he wasn't injured, he couldn't be fine.

"Oh god, I didn't even think of the chair. Is he alright?" Kurt laughed. "Of course he did." A pause. "What did yours say?"

Kurt laughed again, this time in disbelief. "You are such a liar, you did not say that."

Blaine, apparently, argued back.

"I would never date your brother, it'd be awkward. What did you really say?"

Blaine's answer made Kurt cry again. He really needed to stop doing that.

"No you don't."

The arguing was back.

"I don't care."

And here Adam was worried that after this Blaine would be incapable of doing anything wrong as far as Kurt was concerned.

"Blaine Devon Anderson, you're not hanging up on me."

Ooh, middle name.

"But I don't even like your parents, why would that matter to me?"

"Kurt, let the boy call his damn parents," Santana said from behind him, shaking her head.

"I'm not hanging up."

"You promised your dad you'd call him back."

"I—fine. Fine. You two win. I hope you're happy."

Santana shook her head.

"I'm not being—okay. Fine. You're right, I'm sorry. I'll let you answer them. But you're calling me back tonight, okay?"

Kurt was rubbing his eyes, ridding them of the last of the tear tracks, and Santana stood facing him. Adam took this opportunity to slip out of the room unnoticed.

"It's cute how you still refuse to end your conversations with 'bye' like a normal person," he heard Santana say as he walked away.

Later that night, when he stopped by Kurt's place to see how he was doing, Rachel answered the door. She made several apologizes, claimed there were some 'family issues' and that Kurt wasn't taking visitors.