Sebastian drove back to Dalton in a haze, taking the turns by muscle memory-at least until he passed by the mall. He slowed as he saw flashing lights, crime scene tape, and cops milling around the Starbucks parking lot. He grimaced as images of Blaine's bloody, limp form flashed across his mind's eye and pressed down on the accelerator in the vain hope of putting distance between himself and what had happened.

He'd spoken to the cops after they'd arrived and Blaine had been loaded into the ambulance, or at least he'd tried to. His mind was still reeling at hearing a friend being assaulted and finding him left like a piece of trash. He'd answered the cops' questions about how he knew where to go, the last time he'd seen Blaine, the guys from the coffee shop he'd heard on the phone, and so on as best he could until they'd all blended together.

Once it had been obvious Sebastian was dazed from the ordeal, the police had finally given him the green light to head over to the hospital with the promise that they would be in touch again. It had sounded vaguely intimidating, but Sebastian hadn't had it in him to care. Intellectually, he knew how these things worked-he was being groomed to follow in his father's footsteps, after all-but being a part of the process was completely different than hearing about it; being a witness when the victim was someone you cared about...

Sebastian didn't know what to do with that. He didn't make connections easily; sure, he had charm and charisma and people gravitated toward him as a leader, but, as his father had told him, it was lonely at the top. But somehow at Dalton he'd made connections he'd never expected-especially Blaine.

There was just something about Blaine that Sebastian couldn't shake. At first he'd been nothing but a conquest-Sebastian had been drawn to Blaine's legend and to the idea of claiming both Blaine and his abandoned place atop the Warblers' pedestal, but as he got to know Blaine, the other boy had become so much more.

Blaine made Sebastian want to become more, better. He'd hurt Blaine, putting him in the hospital, yet Blaine had found it within himself to forgive Sebastian after Karofsky's suicide attempt. Everything that had gone on between the Warblers and New Directions seemed so pointless in the wake of that. Blaine and Sebastian had struck a tentative truce after Regionals, and Sebastian hadn't pushed his luck after that. They'd run into each other occasionally over the summer, making cautious small talk when it happened in Westerville, Blaine about his job at Six Flags and Sebastian about lacrosse and working for his father, and ignoring each other in Lima since Blaine was usually with Kurt then.

When Hunter had walked into the library with the New Directions' Nationals trophy that fall, Sebastian's stomach dropped. He knew this could turn ugly for everyone involved. Blaine had held onto the betrayal of the Warblers leaving him on the ground in that parking garage for longer than any of them had expected, considering his usually forgiving nature, so for those who had been involved in that incident, the trophy theft was a major gamble.

Sebastian knew the gamble had almost paid off, though; he'd heard from his sources that Blaine had almost transferred back, withdrawing his application at the last minute. He'd later told Sebastian that he hadn't realized before then how many people at McKinley cared about him rather than him as an extension of Kurt; it had taken a New Directions intervention, but Blaine realized he had a place and friends of his own at McKinley.

Blaine had avoided the Warblers before Sectionals, though Sebastian had gone looking for him before the performances, and there'd been too much chaos after that girl had collapsed, resulting in the Warblers' win. It had felt somehow hollow to Sebastian that they'd won by default rather than by actually beating the reigning national champions at their best-with Blaine out front where he thrived-and that unease was what had Sebastian calling Blaine that weekend.

"Hello?"

"Blaine, hey."

"Sebastian?" Blaine's tone was surprised and wary, but he didn't hang up, which Sebastian took as a win. "Are you calling to gloat?"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, though Blaine couldn't see him. "Of course not." Blaine made a disbelieving noise and Sebastian's lip quirked up. "No point in gloating when we won by disqualification. I'd only gloat if we won fair and square."

Blaine let out a weak laugh. "You are a gracious winner, then."

"Is that girl who collapsed okay?"

"Yeah," Blaine said, though he sounded surprised that Sebastian would ask. That was probably fair; Sebastian was going to have to prove to Blaine that he was changing for the better no matter what he said. "She hadn't been eating and got dizzy from the stage lights."

"That sucks." And Sebastian found that he actually meant it. He didn't actually wish harm on any of the members of New Directions, no matter what some of them thought. "It's too bad you guys didn't get to finish your set."

"You should be glad," Blaine replied with a hint of a smile. "We would've blown you away."

Sebastian snorted, the cockiness taking him a bit by surprise-pleasant surprise, of course. He'd missed this teasing friendship they'd had the previous year before things went to shit. "With Blaine Anderson leading the number? I wouldn't doubt it," he said easily.

They fell into silence then and it was surprisingly comfortable. "Why did you call, Sebastian?" Blaine finally asked.

Sebastian hesitated. "I..." But he supposed he should just go for it. "I just wanted you to know the trophy thing was Hunter's idea. I had no idea until he walked into the library with the damn thing."

Blaine was quiet for a moment before asking, "And the others?"

Sebastian grimaced, knowing Blaine was still distrustful of the Warblers he'd once called friends. "They didn't know either." He smirked slightly. "Trent nearly had a panic attack when Hunter explained what he was doing."

"Good to know."

Sebastian decided it was worth pushing since Blaine didn't seem in any hurry to hang up on him-a vast improvement on the last time he'd tried calling. "They're worried about you."

He could practically hear Blaine's eyebrow rising at that. "They?"

"The Warblers," Sebastian clarified. The ones you're still angry at. "We all are," he added.

"I..." Blaine trailed off a moment before saying, "I assume you heard Kurt and I broke up."

"Word may have reached Dalton about that, yes." It had been the talk of the upperclassmen for a good week once the rumor had broken; Blaine hadn't just been popular among the Warblers, after all. He'd been a rock star, a prince even, at Dalton. No one knew any details, just that there had been a split.

"Well, uh... It's been hard. Really hard." There was a lot of emotion there that Sebastian wasn't sure he could identify.

"I'm sorry," he said instead.

"Really?" The disbelief practically oozed through the phone.

Sebastian shrugged. "Sorry that you're hurting? Yes. Sorry that you finally ditched Hummel? Not even a little." Blaine was too damn good for Kurt Hummel and Sebastian hated that Blaine was hurting so much over him, no matter what had happened between them.

Blaine groaned but he didn't argue the point. They fell back into that not uncomfortable silence for a few moments before Sebastian broke it. "Do you want to get coffee sometime?"

"Sebastian..."

"I'm not asking you out, Anderson," he said quickly. A doomed-to-fail rebound wouldn't do either of them any favors. "Just as friends."

"I..." Blaine was quiet for a long moment as Sebastian held his breath, but then he finally spoke. "Okay. As friends."

Sebastian let out a relieved breath. "Great."

They'd ended up getting coffee the next week and talked for three hours before Sebastian had to rush back to Dalton. After that, they'd started meeting a few times a week just to talk and it had been nice. There was no pressure for anything beyond conversation, and they fell into an easy rhythm. Soon they were texting and calling and confiding in each other about the struggles they were having.

Sebastian didn't know exactly when Blaine had become his best friend, but the realization had been heady.

And now, Sebastian's best friend was comatose in the hospital, fighting for his life because of three homophobic assholes.

Wearily, Sebastian pulled into the Dalton parking lot and trudged up the stairs, exhaustion weighing down his limbs. Thankfully, he didn't run into anyone along the way. As he walked down the hallway, he saw some lights on and could hear music or typing coming from behind some of the doors, but most of the students were asleep by now. Sebastian was barely staying upright, but he had a feeling that the moment he shut his eyes, he was going to see Blaine, broken and bleeding, and hear him begging and screaming in pain. He wasn't sure if he could face that tonight.

He slid the key into his door and opened it, but blinked when he noticed the light was on. His eyes widened when he saw Thad sitting at his desk. The other boy turned when he walked in, arms crossed against his chest.

"Jesus, Sebastian. It's almost two. I've been calling you for hours. Where the hell wh-" He stopped once he got a look at Sebastian's face. "You look like shit."

Sebastian rolled his eyes as he dropped his keys and phone onto his bed. "Just what I want to hear after spending a night with Kurt Hummel in the emergency room." Because he knew Kurt had been judging him during those hours they'd spent waiting for information when none was forthcoming.

Thad's eyes widened, and Sebastian realized what he'd just said. Shit.

"Emergency room? What happ-" He tripped over his words as Sebastian's words registered fully. "With Kurt?"

And every Warbler knew full well that there was one thing Sebastian Smythe and Kurt Hummel had in common...

Thad's voice was hushed as he asked "Did something happen to Blaine?"

-----

Kurt had no idea how long he stayed at Blaine's bedside, fingers absently tracing random patterns on the back of the other boy's hand. His father had taken a seat on the other side of the bed, and the few times Kurt managed to pull his gaze from Blaine's pale, lax face to look at Burt, his father's expression had been unreadable.

Eventually, a nurse had come in to check on Blaine and had encouraged the Hummels to go home and sleep.

"We need to run some more tests on Blaine. You won't be doing him much good sitting in the waiting room, anyway," she said, not unkindly

Burt had risen and pulled gently at Kurt's elbow, guiding him to his feet. Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand one more time and murmured, "We'll be back tomorrow, Blaine," before letting his father lead him from the room.

The further they got from Blaine's room, the more Kurt deflated, as though the energy it took to stay upright was draining from his body with every step. He felt hollowed out. Burt's grip on his shoulders only tightened as they walked, though, and Kurt was grateful for the silent support. Kurt shoved his hand into his jacket pocket as they went through the doors of the ICU and his fingers grazed against his phone. He pulled it out and turned it back on; they'd need to call Carole and Finn with an update...

Kurt started hard when his phone began ringing in his hand. A few nurses turned mild glares on him as they passed in the hallway, but Kurt ignored them as the name on the caller ID registered. A guilty lump formed in his throat.

"Who is it?" Burt asked.

"Cooper," Kurt choked out. Shit. He'd forgotten to call Cooper, but Blaine's brother must've known something was wrong to be calling Kurt when he knew Blaine and Kurt were broken up. "I..."

"Did you call him?" Burt asked. Kurt shook his head and his father sighed. "You should probably answer it, bud."

Kurt nodded and answered the call. "Hello?"

Kurt shut his eyes as Cooper's frantic voice rang across the line. "Kurt, what the hell? I've been calling you for an hour!"

"Sorry," Kurt breathed. "My... my phone's been off."

"Your phone's been off," Cooper echoed in panicked disbelief.

Kurt's stomach clenched guiltily. This was Blaine's brother... Even if they didn't have the same relationship Kurt and Finn had, it was obvious that Cooper still cared about Blaine, especially once they'd mended fences during Cooper's visit the previous spring. Blaine and Cooper spoke more often now and Blaine had even visited Cooper the past summer.

"No phones in the ICU," Kurt replied, feeling his father steadily steer him through the hallway as he kept his eyes shut.

Cooper made a choked off sound before audibly collecting himself. "What the hell happened?" he demanded finally. "I got..." He swallowed. "I had a voicemail after work from Westerville Memorial saying..." He trailed off again. "When I called back, they said you and your father were with him." There might have been some accusation in that last bit, but Kurt couldn't blame Cooper for that.

"My dad's one of Blaine's emergency contacts," Kurt explained, opening his eyes as they walked through the waiting room and out the doors into the parking lot. Kurt's insides twisted uncomfortably at the thought of Blaine being beaten severely in a parking lot. Again. They stopped a few feet outside the doors, the same spot Kurt had called his father from a few hours earlier.

"Have you seen him?" Cooper asked quietly.

Kurt nodded, but it took a moment to remember that Cooper couldn't see him. "Yeah."

"And?"

Kurt let out a dry sob before he could stop it at the image of Blaine's too still form that would forever be engraved in his memory. Cooper inhaled sharply on the other end. Kurt barely registered his father pulling the phone from his limp grasp, hugging his arms around his middle as his father picked up the conversation.

"Cooper? It's Burt Hummel..."

Kurt half-listened to the one-sided conversation, trying to focus on the comforting sound of his dad's voice and letting it lull him into a sense of safety. He wasn't paying attention to the actual words being spoken, so he jumped when his dad handed his phone back to him, not realizing the call had ended.

"Cooper's in Vancouver shooting some TV show," Burt said tiredly. "He's been trying to get a flight out, but they're having a blizzard and nothing is going in or out."

"A blizzard in Vancouver? In March?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow. He wasn't exactly an expert on Canadian weather patterns, but that didn't sound seasonal.

Burt shrugged. "Global warming?" he offered and Kurt huffed a humorless laugh. Wasn't that just their luck? "Anyway, he's going to keep trying to get a flight out. He'll call once he can actually leave."

Kurt nodded. "Their parents?"

Burt ran a hand over his face. "He tried calling, but they've got their phones off."

Kurt wasn't surprised; they were on a cruise and roaming costs alone would be ridiculous. And it wasn't like they knew that Blaine would get hurt in their absence, but they'd still left him alone for weeks on end. Kurt had never been able to imagine living in a family where that was commonplace, but it was normal for Blaine. Kurt had always been happy to be able to include Blaine in the Hummel family traditions, like Friday night dinners, whenever possible because of it. He'd caught Blaine more than once looking around the Hudson-Hummel dinner table like he couldn't quite believe they were real.

Kurt wondered then, not for the first time, how often Blaine had been left alone in that giant house after their breakup. A shiver ran down his spine.

"So I guess we're all he's got for now," Kurt said finally, something heavy settling in his stomach.

Burt nodded. "Cooper said we can stay at their place to avoid commuting between Lima and Westerville too much."

Kurt swallowed, thinking of Blaine's house-of Blaine's room, of Blaine's bed...

"Oh," was all he could manage, a fresh wave of grief washing over him. He'd barely been able to stay in the house that afternoon when he and Blaine had been eating dinner with all the reminders of things they'd shared in that house, but to stay there when Blaine was in the hospital? It was a lot.

Burt squeezed Kurt's shoulder in understanding. "You've got Finn's car, right?" he asked, bringing Kurt's attention back to the present.

"Yeah. He was hanging out with Puck tonight," Kurt answered. He was feeling somehow detached, like he was watching his body answer his father's questions while he floated a bit above the scene, untethered.

"I don't think you should be driving right now, kiddo," Burt said. "We'll take my car to the Andersons' and pick up Finn's tomorrow."

Kurt nodded, content to let his father make the logistical decisions while he floated. He let Burt lead him to the car, sitting down and buckling his seatbelt unthinkingly. The drive across Westerville was silent as Kurt stared out the passenger window, unseeing.

Kurt had made the drive to and from Blaine's countless times and had seen much of Westerville while he'd been at Dalton, but they were still passing through areas mostly unfamiliar to him. But Kurt couldn't force himself to focus.

All he could see in his mind's eye was Blaine from that afternoon: Blaine answering the door, eyes going wide in surprise before wariness settled on his features as he let Kurt inside; Blaine feeling from the kitchen when the doorbell rang; Blaine across the table at the coffee shop, features somehow both openly curious and guarded as his fingers curled around his coffee cup; Blaine with his face buried in his hands, his whole body shaking in the wake of the confrontation; Blaine in the movie theater, shoulders slumped and eyes far away; Blaine in the doorway at Starbucks before Kurt left, a mix of emotions crossing his face that Kurt couldn't read...

Kurt blinked and glanced around when he felt the car settle into park; they were in Blaine's driveway. Oh. Burt squeezed his shoulder before getting out of the car. Kurt followed suit more slowly, following the path to the front steps.

Burt was looking around the porch when Kurt walked up. "Cooper said the spare key is-"

"Under the third brick on the second step," Kurt filled in, bending down to remove the loose brick in the step and pull out the key. Blaine had told him where it was on more than one occasion, though Kurt had only used it twice-once when Blaine was home with flu and his parents had to work and once when he surprised Blaine when he was recovering from his eye surgery.

Burt raised an eyebrow but said nothing, simply stepping aside to let Kurt unlock the door that Blaine had locked that very evening when they'd left for coffee. Kurt tried to shove down the rising feeling of guilt again as the door swung open. He didn't succeed.

He held the door open for his dad, shutting it behind them and locking it once more. Kurt slipped his shoes off and pulled his coat from his shoulders as Burt copied his movements. It had become habit to remove his shoes when coming to Blaine's in the last two years; his house looked like something out of a catalog, artfully decorated but empty, and walking around in shoes felt like some kind of trespass.

Kurt took a deep breath and looked over at his father, who was peering around the foyer with mild interest. The Anderson house was in an entirely different world than the Hudson-Hummel house, and though Burt no doubt saw a lot of luxury during his time in D.C., it was always different trying to picture someone you knew living in the space. Kurt shook his head, pulling himself out of his reverie.

"I'll, uh, show you where the guest room is," Kurt told his dad. It didn't seem right to sleep in one of the Andersons' rooms, even if Cooper had given the okay, but there was no way Kurt was letting Burt sleep on the couch.

Burt followed Kurt up the stairs and down the hallway. Kurt opened the second to last door on the right and peered in. The bed looked to be made, Kurt noted in relief. He was pretty sure he was too shaky at the moment to actually make a bed. He turned the light on and stepped aside to give his dad room. Burt stepped into the doorway before turning to look back at Kurt.

"Towels are in the closet," Kurt told him, putting an unsteady hand on the door adjacent to the guest room. "And bathroom," he added, nodding behind him to the door across the hall. It was odd, playing host in a home that wasn't his-that he wasn't entirely sure he even felt welcome in anymore.

Burt nodded before studying Kurt for a long moment. Kurt tried not to fidget under his dad's knowing gaze, but finally Burt pulled Kurt into a hug.

"Try to get some sleep, bud. We'll go back in the morning."

Kurt nodded into his dad's chest, melting into the embrace. In his father's arms, it felt like nothing could get to Kurt, and he reveled in the feeling after a night so out of control. He had no idea how long they stayed like that, but Burt didn't move until Kurt finally pulled away. The world seemed to come crashing back down on him as he stepped back, but Kurt knew he couldn't burden his dad any more than he already was. Tonight, he would do what he always did-deal with it on his own.

"Goodnight, Dad," Kurt said.

"Goodnight," Burt replied, though they both knew it was anything but.

Kurt turned back down the hallway and heard the guest room door shut behind him. He had every intention of heading downstairs to sleep on-or stare at the ceiling from-the couch, but his feet seemed to have other ideas. He suddenly found himself standing in front of the door to Blaine's room. He hesitated, not wanting to intrude. He and Blaine might be trying to be friends, but Kurt knew that was turning out to be as hard for Blaine as it was for him.

Still, Kurt twisted the doorknob before he could talk himself out of it. He stepped inside Blaine's room, turned on the light, and closed the door behind him. He shut his eyes, just for a moment breathing in the familiar Blaine scent that was all over the room, before turning around. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it seemed a bit anticlimactic that Blaine's room looked mostly the same as the last time he'd been here in the fall.

Kurt inhaled sharply when he realized he hadn't been here since Before.

At times, Kurt found himself categorizing things as Before or After-he was doing it even now that he'd forgiven Blaine and was hoping to move forward. It was a moment that had changed everything for them both.

Kurt wandered around the perimeter of the room, noticing a few new pictures-of the new New Directions and of the Warblers, Sebastian included-scattered around the room, but otherwise it seemed... unchanged. Kurt couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that came from that, so instead sat down on the edge of the bed.

He blinked hard. He and Blaine had shared their first time here, and Kurt was sitting in Blaine's room, remembering, while Blaine was hooked up to machines fighting for his life across town.

Feeling like he'd been burned by the thought, Kurt jolted up off the bed and took several steps back, eyes wide and breath coming in short pants. Fuck. He shouldn't be here.

Kurt bit his lip, about to flee from the room when he heard the familiar chirp of an incoming text on his phone. It was probably Finn. With a sigh, he reached into his pocket, but his phone wasn't there. He frowned and checked his other pockets, but it wasn't in any of them either.

His phone chirped again and he realized the sound was coming from under the bed. His phone must've fallen onto the floor when he'd jumped up from the bed. Swallowing, Kurt knelt by the bed and cast out blindly. His fingers came in contact with something smooth, so he grabbed it and pulled it out. But it wasn't his phone.

Kurt's breath hitched when he realized what it was: the framed photo of Kurt that Blaine had kept on his nightstand. Blinking back tears, Kurt studied the photo for a long moment, trying to understand what it was doing under the bed. He glanced back at Blaine's nightstand and saw a photo of Sam with his arm wrapped around Blaine's shoulders, pulling Blaine into his side while Blaine grinned happily. Something lurched in his chest at that.

"I was finally moving on," Blaine's words from earlier echoed accusingly in the back of Kurt's mind.

Clenching his jaw, Kurt reached back under the bed, but what he pulled out wasn't his phone either. Kurt felt the tears start to fall as he studied the framed photo of him and Blaine dancing at junior prom. Kurt had his own copy in the apartment in New York; he'd pulled it out from the back of his makeshift closet last week after ending things with Adam.

Blaine said he was moving on and the frames, both with some cobwebs on them, seemed like proof of that after all. They'd been hidden for more than a few days if they were collecting dust like that.

For the longest time, Kurt had wanted nothing more than to be able to move on. He'd offered his heart to Blaine, and Blaine had broken it in a moment of weakness. It had taken months for him to heal enough to even consider putting himself out there again. He knew Blaine had been hurt when he'd found out that Kurt was seeing Adam-Tina said she'd found him in the gym at the punching bag every day the week he'd found out, pounding the bag until he'd nearly collapsed-but Kurt knew he had every right to date someone else.

But somewhere in the back of his mind, Kurt realized that he'd been pleased that Blaine wasn't letting go. Blaine was going to fight for him, for them, no matter what. It was a safety net that Kurt hadn't been consciously aware of until this very moment-the moment he realized that net had been cut a while ago.

And now, with Blaine in the hospital ("...the worse his chances get..."), Kurt realized with a painful lurch, that he might never get to tell Blaine that he knew now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that they were meant to be together forever. That was what he'd come all the way home to tell Blaine, but he'd only managed to make a mess of everything.

"You weren't supposed to move on," Kurt choked out, hugging the frames to his chest. "I just want you. You can't leave me before I get to tell you that."

Kurt let the sobs that had been building up all night overtake him then, his fingers squeezing the framed photos like a lifeline as he drowned in his tears.