Blaine was lying on the sofa, facing the ceiling, his eyes closed, when his parents got home. At the sound of the door opening he shot up, his heart lurching into a gallop. "Kurt?" he called out expectantly.

"Only us!" His mom called back, and with a groan he sank into the sofa again. "Oh, darling, you look terrible!" Mrs Anderson said when she saw him. His eyes were sunken and blood shot, surrounded by dark circles.

"Couldn't sleep. Kurt's gone." He mumbled, burying his face in his hands. His mom sat him up and he told her what had happened – how he hadn't been able to tell Kurt; how Finn had found out; how Kurt had learnt the truth from someone else; and how no one had seen him since.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, he loves you. He'll come back." She kissed his forehead. "I'll make some coffee. It'll perk you up bit." She left, leaving Blaine alone with his dad. Their eyes met, and Blaine recognised the look on his dad's face. It was one he'd seen many times; one that he could read easily.

Man up.

The first thing Kurt did when he awoke was let loose a groan. He had a splitting headache; his tongue felt like sandpaper; the light from the window burned his eyes even when they were scrunched shut. So you wanted to forget? He asked himself. Good job, genius. His memory of the night before wasn't a blur – it didn't exist. He buried his face in the pillow, trying to get back to sleep, but his heightened sense of smell was telling him something.

That wasn't his pillow. And it wasn't Blaine's either.

His eyes opened wide and he pushed himself up to look around, the hangover taking a backseat for a moment. It was a fairly large room, with an en suite bathroom and a rather impersonal décor.

A blurry image arose from the fog of his memory: Sebastian doing body shots off some guy while a small crowd cheered him on.

Kurt's heart jumped into his mouth and his eyes opened impossibly further as his mind jumped to the worst conclusion. "No," he said quietly, his tongue feeling numb and alien in his mouth. "No no no no no no." His hand found its way clumsily under the covers and yes, fully clothed. "Oh, thank fuck for that." A figure stirred on a sofa at the end of the room, making Kurt jump. Kurt's mind worked quickly – Sebastian; clothed from the waist up at least; on the sofa. Nothing happened, he concluded. He got really drunk and Sebastian let him sleep here instead of driving home. Kurt collapsed back onto the bed with relief before remembering whose bed it was.

He jumped to his feet, yanked on his shoes and headed straight for the door.

Kurt managed to find his way back to Scandals and climbed into his car. He gripped the steering wheel and took several deep breaths before pulling out of the parking spot.

Never. Never again would he touch alcohol. Evidently it led him to make bad decisions. Not that you were making good decisions before the drinking, the voice in his head reminded him, and his memories from the day before unlocked.

Oh God, he thought, I was so selfish. Blaine was sick. He was probably scared, too, and Kurt had left him. He'd left everyone.

He swore and dug his phone out of his pocket. He'd been gone all night without telling anyone.

"You have… five new messages," the robotic voice on his phone announced. He braced himself.

"Hey, it's me… Blaine. I'm at your house, but you aren't. I'm looking for you everywhere Kurt, where are you? No-one's seen you since Rachel-… Please, just, call me back, okay?"

Kurt winced and gripped the steering wheel harder, his knuckles turning white.

"Hey, Kurt, it's your dad. It's past your curfew. Better be on your way home."

He groaned as new guilt poured directly into his stomach. His dad was sick, too. He could really do without the panic and fear of a missing child. The next message was similar, but slightly more aggravated. Then there was another from Blaine.

"…Kurt, I can't handle it, not on my own, I-… I need you. Please, come home."

Hearing Blaine's voice so broken cut straight through Kurt, and by the time the message ended his cheeks were streamed with tears. Blaine was begging – begging - and Kurt hadn't even picked up the phone. His stomach twinged when he thought about how Blaine must've been feeling. Alone. Abandoned by his own boyfriend when he probably needed him most.

The last message was from Blaine too.

"Hey, it's me again. I'm getting really worried now, Kurt. We all are. I just wanted you to know that I'm at the hospital so you might not be able to get hold of me for a while… you know, if you wanted to. I just… let me know what you're thinking, Kurt, please. I'm going crazy over here."

Blaine pulled his phone out one more time before heading out of the waiting room. Still nothing. He was becoming more and more worried with each passing moment. Maybe Kurt wasn't ignoring him. Maybe he'd been in an accident and couldn't call him back. He could have lost his phone. Maybe he was somewhere in the hospital and no one knew who he was yet so they couldn't contact anyone.

Stop it, he told himself sharply. Worrying wasn't helping anyone. He had to focus on himself for just a moment – he had to get that thing cut out. Then he could put all his energy into finding Kurt.