Kurt was sitting in his room on the small bed with plain white bedding, legs crossed over each other and head looking down at his hands that fidgeted on the bedspread beneath him. He could hear his father in the hallway with Dr. Smith, softly discussing his condition, and he forced himself to close his eyes and try and focus on what the soft little murmurs said.

"Mr. Hummel, he's not reacting to any drug treatment, we're running out of things to do here.. He doesn't leave his room, talk to the other patients, even tell the nurses how he's doing. I can barely get two words out of him on a good day, I've certainly never seen him smile, and everytime I come into his room there's always a new reason why he can't go outside."

Kurt sighed in sync with his father, and he knew they were both doing the exact same thing, running their hands over their heads and trying to take in the information.

"Come on, doc, you can't tell me you're quitting on him now.. We moved to come here, to get the help he needs. He needs to be okay. Please.." he begged, desperation more than clear in his voice.

"I.. What else can we do? You know about as much as we do.. Probably more, actually. He's depressed, anxious, confused, he's got severe OCD, insomnia, melancholia, nightmares, if he can even get to sleep, anorexia, selective mutism, short term memory loss.."

As the list continued and continued, Kurt covered his ears and brought his knees to his chest, breathing heavily as he wondered what a burden he was being to his father. How long would he last before he just lost him too? The bags under his eyes grew bigger and bigger each day and that feeling in Kurt's chest just got worse and worse with it all.

There was a hand on his shoulder and he gasped, eyes snapping open and hands falling down to scramble away from the touch. Dr. Smith shushed him and sat in the chair behind the bed, Burt standing behind him and finding it hard to even look at where his son used to be. He was someone else now, just a stranger. Even to himself.

"How do you feel now, Kurt?" the doctor asked softly, and Kurt knew he was only trying to help, but he was just in the way. Kurt's eyes were glued to his father that fidgeted around the room, hands moving all over and busying themselves on anything he could reach.

"Daddy?" he whispered brokenly, making Burt whip around and hurry over, nodding and keeping his distance, taking little shallow breaths as per usual. "Yeah, bud?" he whispered back, watching Kurt's eyes scan his face and reluctantly reach out to take his hand, for his father's sake more than anything. "I-I'm sorry.." he said, looking down and fidgeting a bit in his bed as he heard his father sigh and let out almost a squeak, holding back his emotion. "You've got nothing to be sorry, buddy, I promise." he said, leaning over and kissing his forehead softly, breathing him in and noticing how he didn't even smell like Kurt.

He just smelled like a hospital. He just looked like a patient, not the boy he knew. With his brown hair laying flat on his head, a pair of pyjamas wrapped around his tiny frame. His face had pimples and marks, like any other teenagers, and his face seemed to permanently frown. Not even his favourite jokes or shows or anything could bring that back.

"Absolutely nothing." he whispered, offering a smile and wondering if Kurt could even hear him as he looked down and fell deep into his own thoughts, feeling as though he were falling. He felt Burt's hand start to slip away and he gripped it tightly, not moving anymore expect to blink and breathe.

Dr. Smith stood slowly and offered a forced and sad smile to Burt, but the man didn't notice it. His eyes were focused on his son, keeping his hand tightly closed in his own and whispering things to him gently, hoping he could hear them.

Hours passed and neither man moved, and Burt never stopped. He had his eyes closed and everything focused on the boy in front of him, nothing could stop him in that moment. He opened his mouth and took a little shaky breath, remembering afternoons when they'd drive around Ohio, not knowing where they'd end up, how long they'd be gone, how far they'd go. The afternoons when Burt would turn on the music and try to sing, making his little boy giggle. He just wanted that again.

"You are the sunshine of my life. That's why I'll always be around. You are the apple of my eye. Forever you'll stay in my heart."


***

Blaine smiled as he sat in the hallway at NYADA, quoting RENT with a few of his friends and laughing as they waited for Cassandra July to show up. As usual, she was late. There was a clicking of heels down the hall and Blaine jumped up, waiting on the wall against the corner until the teacher slipped around with her constant glare at the others, giving her enough distraction for Blaine to walk along behind her.

"What are you laughing about freshmen?" she grumbled, crossing her arms and popping out a hip. Blaine walked up behind her over exaggeratedly, sticking his hip far out to the side hands crossing with a little huff. The others covered their mouths and tried their best not to laugh, though a few did snicker and giggle. Well, that certainly didn't go over well with Ms. Cassie July. She huffed and glared at them more. "Oh, right, let's all act like toddlers and just giggle and not tell the teacher." she said, running a hand through her hair.

Of course, Blaine behind her did the same and only made the others laugh more at the teacher's complete oblivion. With pursed lips she watched them closely, scanning their every move and noticing how none of them were really looking at her. She spun on her heels, coming face-to-face with a pouting and posing Blaine Anderson. The smirk on her lips grew widely in an instant and she hummed as he froze. "Hope you brought a towel, Anderson, you're gonna be desperate for the time you get out of here." she said, spinning around again and walking into the class, listening to the other students 'oo's and rolling her eyes.

Blaine groaned as he was caught and snatched up his bag, sighing and watching Jeff snicker. "Hey, there's always someone who has it worse." he said, just making Blaine roll his eyes and walk into the dance studio. "Worse than the she devil's dance class? I don't think so."

***

Kurt stood at the dresser in his room, flipping through papers that were in here and trying to find something to do.

"Hello."

Kurt gasped and spun around with big eyes, seeing a nurse standing there and smiling gently. "It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. Just hear with your medicine for the day, okay?" she said.

Kurt stood dumbly for a moment, noticing how the woman waited for his permission before she moved. He just nodded once and she quietly and slowly made her way over to a table beside his bed, putting down the water and pills in little cups. Kurt felt she didn't seem like a threat and he went back to quietly looking at the papers in his hands. They drooped and a Polaroid picture was sent gliding over the cool and smooth floors, only stopping once they hit the nurses' shoe.

"Oh, I think you dropped something, sweetie." she said, crouching down and plucking the picture up with a delicate little touch. She awed and walked over, making Kurt back slightly and bump into the dresser. The nurse didn't notice as she scanned her bright green eyes over the image of two boys, not possibly more than 14 years old, arms around each other and grins so big that they almost seemed impossible.

She glanced up towards Kurt and then back again at the picture, biting her lip gently. "Honey, is this you?"

Kurt glanced over and nodded, looking away and taking a little breath. "Yes."

"And who's this?"

He looked at the picture again, forcing himself to watch for longer, and then he looked back at his toes. "A boy."

"Your friend?"

"He used to be."

"Why used to be?"

"I don't know.."

There was a pause between them and everything almost stood still as Kurt tried to push any memories away. He didn't want to see them, he didn't want to live in that moment.

"Did he hurt you?"

Kurt's head hung and his eyes were crushed shut, his head moving back and forth to say no.

"Did you hurt him?"

His head kept moving and his hands started fiddling with the hem of his loose t-shirt.

"Did he leave?"

Kurt froze and took a sharp breath, snatching back the picture and stuffing it in the drawer. His long fingers gripped the wood tightly and he breathed heavily. "Please go." he whispered in despair.

The woman in front of him seemed shock as she nodded fast, backing away and clearing her throat. "O-Of course, I'm sorry.." she said, looking down and hurrying out, sliding the door over and glancing at him once through the glass before she disapeard and Kurt was all alone again.

His head turned up to check the hallways where everyone that passed didn't register him, they just kept going on their own ways. That was good.. It was better to be alone.

He slowly opened the drawer with a little squeak from the wood and pushed some papers out of the way to pull the picture out again. He looked at himself and wondered where he'd disappeared to, where that boy had gone? How did that happen in 4 years?

Before he could stop himself, his eyes slipped across the paper to the boy beside him, with a smile that could make anyone happy. Well, almost anyone anyway. With those big brown eyes, the long curly hair, the little crinkles around his eyes.... Kurt sighed and put the picture away again, walking towards his bed to take the pills and lie down, but he stopped. He dropped his hands down to his side and closed his eyes, imagining where that boy was now, what he was doing, how he felt.

"Why did my best friend go?"

***
"Because I had to."

Blaine sat on the edge of his bed with a phone pressed to his ear, a loud yapping on the other side and the sound of the radio in his room trying to drown it out.

"No, Steven, stop that, I did not ditch you. It wasn't my fault, my teacher's just a bitch!" he tried, groaning and flopping back on the bed and crossing his arms as he huffed. "Oh right, whatever." he said, hanging up on his boyfriend and throwing his phone across the room and rubbing his forehead.

"Aw, poor little Blainers, having another fight with Even Stevens?" Jeff asked, chuckling as he walked in and sat in front of Blaine's computer, looking through his files just to annoy his friend again.

Blaine groaned and got up, shoving Jeff and sighing. "I told you not to call him that anymore!" he said.

Jeff just hummed and kept flipping through the computer, trying to hack his password to open files. "With hair like that, you can't stop me." Blaine scoffed and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "He looks nothing like Shia LaBeouf."

"No, you're right, Shia LaBeouf is actually semi attractive. Well, once you get past the whole cannibal thing." he joked, just making Blaine clench his fists and grumble under his breath.

Jeff cheered and raised his arms in the air as he got into the computer, pulling up a picture of Steven and snorting as he laughed. "Dude, just look at him! He's Shia Labeouf circa 1999 if you waked him with a branch from the ugly tree, you yourself has admitted he's certainly not overly gifted in the sack, and the only time you don't fight is when you have no contact. Why the hell are you two still even together?"

Blaine picked up a pillow and smacked him upside the head.

"Friend abuse, I'll report you!" Jeff cried, shielding himself from the next few hits. Blaine just rolled his eyes at his friend and sighed, sliding down the wall and sitting on the floor. "Wuss."

Jeff brought a hand to his heart and let out a fake sniffle, wiping under his eye. "You know, words can hurt," he said, just earning himself another hit. "Jerk."

Blaine hugged the pillow to his chest and curled up, looking ahead and sighing again. "I just don't understand why we can't get along and be happy like everyone else." he whispered, running a hand through his hair. Jeff half frowned and moved over enough to almost be eye to eye with Blaine. "Hey.. just look at it this way, there's-" "There's always someone who has it worse, yeah, I get it. Now could you kindly leave me alone?" he asked, curling up on himself. Jeff nodded and got up, patting his friend's shoulders a few times. "Alright. You know where I am." He whispered, slipping out of the room. Blaine got to his feet and walked over to the bed, flopping down and burying his face in the mattress.

"Why the hell does life have to be so shitty? What did I ever do to it?"