Time passed differently at McKinley.

At Dalton, time had been easily measured. Each day seemed to take up its allotted space, with a certain number of events proceeding in a stream that was, if nothing else, at least always constant. At McKinley, though, it seemed like time jumped along on a whim; sometimes, a day would seem to last forever, and at others, a whole week disappeared. Kurt found that he couldn't actually track the passage of time by regular methods any more; instead, he found himself tracking it by events.

He'd arrived back at McKinley just in time to get caught in the headlong rush for Nationals. He put as much effort as he could into the preparations, and almost felt that it made up for him not actually earning his spot in New York. Every time a little voice in his head reminded Kurt that he'd actually been on the losing team at Regionals, he shut it up and put a little more time into this costume or that rehearsal.

Kurt's roommate had sent him a text the day he'd left Dalton, letting him know Blaine had come looking for him, but since then there had been a solid silence from the school. Kurt hadn't really expected anything more; even before Kurt had left, he'd already lost his friends there. Because really, they were always Blaine's friends, and Kurt had just been an extension of Blaine. So when Kurt had been cut free, he had ceased to exist for most of the boys there.

Which was why it was surprising to hear from David, when the older boy had called and asked Kurt if he wanted to have coffee together. And then time seemed to do one of those funny leaps between the phone call and the time David had set, so Kurt was even more surprised to find himself sitting at a table opposite the Warbler, trying not to look too confused.

'So, how have you been, Kurt?' David asked, peering into the other boy's face with what seemed to be honest concern.

'The classes are easier, but the kids are harsher,' Kurt said softly. He wasn't leaning back in his chair because there were bruises on his back from where Karofsky had pushed him into a locker. 'And New Directions is crazy enough to distract myself from both.'

'You guys ready for Nationals?'

Kurt laughed lightly. 'No,' he said. 'But we perform best when we're loose. We just try to make sure our voices are in good shape, and I make sure the costumes look good, and we figure out the rest as we go.'

David looked at Kurt in mild disbelief. 'And that works?'

'For us, it does. Mostly.'

'Well, let me know how it goes for you in the big leagues,' David said with a slight smirk.

They both paused for a moment, before Kurt asked, 'So... how are you? How are things at Dalton?'

'I'm fine. Dalton's the same as always. The teachers are tough. The nursing homes we perform in are friendly. The choir room is still a kangaroo court.'

Kurt was startled to find that he smiled fondly at that. Somewhere, he did miss the Warblers as a group. But then his smile faded. 'And how... how is...' He couldn't do it. Kurt closed his eyes and breathed deeply. 'David, not that I'm not happy to see you, but why are you here?'

David scrutinised Kurt for a second. 'I realised, the other day, that Blaine hadn't mentioned you once since you left.'

Well, clearly he thinks I can take the raw truth, Kurt thought wryly. Oddly, knowing that David was trusting him to handle it made it hurt less. Kurt sat up a little straighter.

David smiled gently. 'Blaine seemed to forget you the moment you left, so we actually did it.' David sent Kurt an intensely apologetic look. 'You know that no one really questions Blaine Anderson. It's almost become automatic for us to just go along with whatever he wants to do, because when he decides something, he's indomitable. So when he decided to forget you, you just dropped out of our minds. And Blaine seemed fine, to be honest. He gets involved with everything, gets good grades and is the life of the party... In fact, you probably wouldn't have come back to mind at all, had it not been for this damn song.'

'Song?' Kurt asked curiously. He brushed aside all the hurtful things David was saying, knowing they weren't intentionally painful - just an honest account of the way things were.

'Yeah. Blaine acts the same way that he always has, except for this one song that he keeps playing and singing over and over again. "She Walks" by Language Room. He just keeps going over it, singing it different ways and writing out bits of the lyrics in class. It's kind of almost like it's haunting him.' David stopped, snorting. 'It's damn well haunting the rest of us. It's driving me crazy. I dream it, I've heard it so many times.'

Kurt laughed, but didn't say anything. He knew David wasn't done with his story yet.

'So I knew that something had to be wrong with Blaine,' David said, 'no matter how hard he was trying to hide it. And I thought about it, thought back to how rough you two had been going before you left; and then I went back even further, to when you guys were friends. And I remembered just howhappy Blaine was. Happier than he'd ever been. And I ended up wondering what could possibly have happened to tear you guys apart like that? How did you get from A to B?

'I remembered the stack of CDs you gave me for Blaine, the week he was going crazy. You seemed to still really care; you weren't mad at him. So I realised that it had to only be Blaine pushing you away. You weren't pushing him.'

Kurt tensed. He'd been impressed, so far, by the thought David had clearly put into this, and the conclusions he was coming to. But surely the logical conclusion to draw at this point was that Kurt had done something to make Blaine shun him. Was that why David was here? To demand to know what Kurt had done, and to tear him apart on behalf of Blaine?

But David still had that apologetic look on his face. 'Blaine's not perfect, Kurt, but he has a lot of really good qualities, and one of those is a very forgiving heart. As soon as I thought it all through and worked out that he was the only one driving you guys apart, I knew it couldn't have been something you'd done. Blaine would have gotten over it and forgiven you. I realised that Blaine had to have done something. But you weren't ignoring him. So he had to have done something he couldn't face you for.

'I'm so, so sorry, Kurt,' David said, leaning forward with an earnest expression. 'Had I worked all this out sooner, I wouldn't have just gone along with what Blaine wanted. I would have been there for you and fought for you. And I'm sorry for whatever Blaine did.'

Kurt choked back tears, feeling a rush of affection for the Dalton boy. 'Thank you, David,' he said. 'I... really appreciate your support. But it's nothing Blaine did, honestly. We were just... different people. Too different.'

David stared at Kurt in slight disbelief. Kurt scrutinised David as the other boy had done to him at the start of the conversation. In a snap decision, he lowered his voice and he sang softly, 'Who am I to tell her she's asleep? She's happier, it seems.'

David's eyes widened in sudden understanding. 'That note Blaine carries around, with the chorus of "She Walks" on it... that's your handwriting.'

'He carries around my note?' Kurt asked. He didn't know what to feel about that.

'Kurt, I don't know what Blaine did, and I get the feeling you're not going to tell me. But I think, at least if Blaine's obsession with the song is any indication, he's not happier being "asleep".'

It doesn't matter. He's made his choice. Kurt wasn't going to cry in front of David, no matter how nice the boy was being. He wouldn't do it. 'Tell me...' he croaked, looking away. 'Tell me about how Nick and Jeff are going.'

David smiled sadly, and put his hand over Kurt's for a second. They spent the rest of the time together chatting lightly in a way they'd never managed at Dalton. When they left, it was with plans to meet up again a few days later.

Over the next few weeks, Kurt met David for coffee every three or four days, along with many other Warblers. David usually managed to find at least one other to bring along, usually Wes or Nick. Kurt came to actually look forward to his time with the Dalton boys; it was a nice break from McKinley. As much as he loved the school, it still had its serious flaws. For one, the drama in New Directions was insane. Jesse St James had returned to Lima, and Finn appeared to be able to barely contain his jealousy; there had been a lot of speculation that Quinn was cheating with Sam, who it turned out, was living in a motel; and Brittany and Artie had had a messy break up. Kurt wanted to shout at them all to just grow up already and be thankful that they could at least try for normal relationships.

The other big problem was the... bullying. Kurt tried to think about it as little as possible. Needless to say, Karofsky hadn't mellowed during Kurt's absence. The football player was a lot more subtle than he'd previously been, to be fair, but that didn't mean he was any less harsh. And now his bullying and his threats were augmented by taunts that Kurt had tried to run. It was almost enough to send Kurt back to Dalton, broken and burning heart or not.

Kurt met David, Wes, Jeff and another Warbler, Simon, the morning before prom. Kurt was planning on going with Rachel's group as part of "prom on a budget", which the prep school boys seemed to find as hilarious as it was foreign to them. They ribbed Kurt gently for awhile, before moving on to relate the misadventures that had apparently occurred at the latest nursing home performance that the Warblers had done.

'And then,' Simon spluttered, giggling, 'Patrick tripped over Nick, hit the floor and slid halfway across the room, and ended up with his head under this little old lady's chair... looking right up her skirt!'

The Dalton boys laughed raucously at this, reliving what was clearly going to become a favourite Warbler memory. Kurt smiled, and asked idly, 'Who's Patrick? Is he new?'

He wasn't expecting the immediate affect that this would have on his companions, who all froze. 'Yes, he's a sophomore. He just joined the Warblers a few weeks ago,' Wes said airily.

Kurt surveyed the boys around him bemusedly. 'And what, is he causing drama or something?'

Wes and David exchanged a look, before David sighed. He gave Kurt another one of those looks, that Kurt was becoming very familiar with - one that said, I'm telling you something you're not going to like, because I know you can deal with it. 'Patrick only auditioned for the Warblers about a fortnight ago... when he started dating Blaine.'

It shouldn't hurt like this. Kurt had kissed Blaine and fought him and lost him and had already heard Blaine asking other people out. Hell, he'd left to get out of Blaine's way, so Blaine could keep on living his life, including dating others. But to hear that Blaine was dating someone else, sharing kisses with someone else... Though they probably didn't feel like fire, kissing in the rain...

Kurt didn't remember the rest of his time with the Dalton boys, or getting ready for prom with Mercedes and Rachel. Dinner at Breadstix passed in a blur as time jumped again. The first thing he remembered was standing in the hall at prom, with Puck pushing a glass of punch into his hand. 'Dude, enjoy it. I didn't spike it with cheap shit,' Puck said to Kurt, his voice strangely... paternal. 'You look like you could use the drink.'

Between dances with Rachel and Mercedes and even Sam, Kurt kept drinking the punch. It wasn't working as fast as he wanted it to, though, so he approached Puck again as the thumping beat of a Good Charlotte song started to play in the background. 'You know how you said I looked like I could use a drink?' Kurt said bluntly. 'Well, I really could.' Puck smirked and surreptitiously handed over a flask, which Kurt drained, ignoring the burn as much as he could. 'Thanks,' he gasped, and Puck clapped him on the back. 'I owe you one.'

'Anything for my boy, Kurt,' Puck said. 'Now go dance with Rachel again. That Jesse dude is creeping me out.' So Kurt did, walking over to Rachel and starting to move to the beat.

Everybody put up your hands
Say I don't want to be in love
I don't want to be in love
Feel the beat now
If you've got nothing left
Say I don't want to be in love
I don't want to be in love

Kurt threw his hands up in the air, jumping around. He sang along with the music, thinking of Blaine, and then tried really hard not to think of Blaine. Blaine hurt. The world was starting to spin. He was vaguely aware of Rachel giving him slightly odd looks, but he kept dancing.

Back it up now
You've got a reason to live
Say I don't want to be in love
I don't want to be in love
Feeling good now
Don't be afraid to get down
Say I don't want to be in love
I don't want to be in love

The world was doing more than spinning now. Kurt felt like he was about to fall over at any moment, and his hands were getting heavy so he had to put them down; he also got the sense that he might not be moving to the beat any more. Starting to feel very sick, he stumbled outside to sit on the cool pavement.

He hadn't been out there long, breathing slowly in and out, trying to get the world to stop moving, when he heard heavy footsteps, and the loud laughter of two boys. Looking up, and trying to ignore the funny things that did to his balance, Kurt saw that Karofsky and Azimio were approaching. And, judging by their swaying walk and slurred shouts, they were probably as drunk as Kurt was.

Part of Kurt's brain was scared by this, and tried to have him climb to his feet. The rest of his brain wouldn't cooperate, though, and he stayed on the pavement. The bigger boys spotted him and ambled over, and still his uncooperative limbs refused to move.

'What are you doing here, faggot?' Karofsky asked, sneering. 'Shouldn't you be inside, doing fairy dances or some shit?'

'Shut the fuck up, you closet case,' Kurt snapped back. Something inside him was screaming at him to stop, that this was really, really stupid, and that he should be running. But his mouth kept going. 'You just wish you were in there dancing with me.'

The first kick made contact with his ribs, and knocked Kurt clear onto the ground, and then everything was a disorienting haze of pain. Blows to his legs, stomach and back seemed to be coming from everywhere. Kurt tried to move, and got onto his elbows; a dress shoe was driven into his arm, and he fell face-first back onto the concrete. A blow to his head mad everything fuzzy, so fuzzy that the whole world looked like it was melting...

Was that a scream?

The kicks stopped. A voice was over him, possibly most the annoying voice in the whole world, but such a beautiful relief now. The tiny hand on his face was so soft, as was the pink lap his head was lowered onto. Everything went grey, and Kurt couldn't see but he could still feel the agony.

The only relief was the tears that fell from Rachel's eyes; they were almost soothing on his grazed skin.