As a father, Burt had dealt with a lot of things. Before Linda died, he'd dealt with his share of dirty diapers and nights spent awake while Kurt cried (he'd always been a lively kid, from his first breath onwards). From the moment Burt had picked a catatonic eight-year-old up from the police precinct that had rescued him from the twisted scrap metal that had used to be their car, Kurt was different. The first year, he had only seemed distant and Burt had brushed it off as grief – the kid had lost his mom, after all. He tried comforting Kurt, tried getting him out of the house and integrated with other kids… Nothing seemed to work, but Burt had expected it to heal with time.

The second year after Linda's death was worse. Kurt was still distant, but he was growing more and more inconsistent. One day he'd be clinging to Burt's side at all times, then suddenly Kurt would push him away or threaten to hit him. Burt didn't understand it, and he figured it was probably time to try the counseling road. The first psychologist they tried was a middle-aged doll-faced woman named Kathleen Westfield and she determined that Kurt was bipolar. He was put on medication and taken off, multiple times for the next two years. Burt argued with Dr. Westfield endlessly, saying that even though he didn't have a degree, he knew his son a hell of a lot better than she did, and he would know if the kid was mentally unstable.

Just after Kurt turned eleven was when Burt finally cut the cord with Dr. Westfield and sought a second opinion with Dr. Goldberg. Kurt had only worsened over the course of two years, and it had taken Goldberg only a month to figure out that it was more than a disrupted polarity, though the official diagnosis was still up in the air. Three days before Christmas, however, Burt had walked into the house to find Kurt eating peanut butter out of a jar and insisting that his name was Tyler, and all the terrifying puzzle pieces snapped into place.

Still… all of that, all the years of worry and sickening heartache that Burt and Kurt (and later Carole and Finn) had gone through together… it all paled in comparison to what he had seen yesterday. He had watched Kurt – smart, witty, sarcastic, flamboyant,alive Kurt – stare into space with such a strange and even mix of awareness and emptiness. It was by far the most frightening thing Burt had ever experienced.

And he did not want to see it again.

"No," he said.

"No?"

"I don't want you bringing out this one."

Dr. Goldberg sighed, lacing his hands together. "Mr. Hummel, I think it's a risk worth taking."

Burt gritted his teeth. "Only if Kurt himself says it's okay. It's his head and he's not a minor, it's up to him."

"Alright." Dr. Goldberg turned his attention to Kurt, who was almost falling asleep from boredom. "Zack, look at me."

Kurt's eyes snapped open and he yawned. "Huh?"

"I know you'd like to stick around for a while, but right now I really have to talk to Kurt. You think you could bring him out for me?"

Kurt bit his lip. "Kurt's not really happy right now – I don't think he wants to come out."

"It's very important."

Burt watched as Zack considered whether or not to allow Kurt back at the wheel. "Okay," he said. "But you need to call him."

It was another twenty minutes before Kurt, at long last, finally reappeared after a lot of coaxing from both Burt and Dr. Goldberg, and Burt let out a heavy breath of relief when he saw his son was back.

Kurt swallowed. "How long was I out?" he asked hoarsely. Burt could hear that he was fighting tears, and he didn't blame him.

"More than a day," Burt replied solemnly.

"Wh-who took over?" Kurt's eyes had gone glassy – for him, the humiliation of being publicly proven insane had only happened a few minutes ago, and the pain was still unbelievably sharp.

"Everyone."

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, tears spilling over.

"Kurt," Dr. Goldberg prodded. "There's a… pretty big chance that you have an seventh alter. One of whom you were not previously aware."

"…What?"

Burt's heart nearly broke at the terror on Kurt's face, but he managed to stay silent as Dr. Goldberg continued.

"Your father has related to me that at one point during your episode, you switched from Eleanor to a personality that they had never seen before. Do you know anything about this?"

Kurt's eyes were wide, his body tense. "I – I don't—"

"It's all right if you don't."

Kurt didn't speak for a minute, chewing on his cuticle. He'd dropped that habit by age twelve, but on very rare occasions Burt would still catch him with a fingernail between his teeth.

"I'd like to speak with the new alter," said Dr. Goldberg, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

"How do you intend to do that?" Kurt frowned.

"He – or she – can be brought out through hypnosis."

"Hypnosis," Kurt echoed disbelievingly.

"But, you would have to fully agree to it."

Kurt tilted his head, his expression tired. "Look at me. I can't fully agree to anything."

Dr. Goldberg chuckled dryly. "I was referring to your core personality."

Sighing, Kurt ran a shaky hand over his face. He swallowed.

"Kurt, you don't need to do it if you don't want to," Burt said. "There are always other ways."

"No," Kurt breathed. "I want to know who this person is. I need to know about all of them or I'll lose my mind." His voice cracked. "But I want Finn with me. Is he here?"

"Um, yes," Dr. Goldberg frowned. "But why?"

"He keeps me grounded."

"That's not the goal of hypnosis."

"I want him with me," Kurt insisted, his eyes hardening.

Dr. Goldberg was thankfully able to sense that Kurt refused to take no for an answer, and he stood and leaned out of the door to call Finn into the office. Finn tentatively entered and sat down on the couch, looking slightly bewildered – he'd never been allowed to be present for Kurt's therapy sessions before. "Hey, Kurt," he said, instantly recognizing his stepbrother and clapping him lightly on the shoulder. "I missed you, buddy."

"He'll only be here for a couple more minutes, and that's where you come in," said Dr. Goldberg.

"Me? What… what am I supposed to do?" Finn glanced at Burt in confusion.

"What you always do," replied Burt.

Finn nodded, immediately understanding. It never ceased to amaze Burt just how much Kurt and Finn had bonded since resolving their original dispute over living together, and stranger and more extraordinary still was the fact that that connection had seemed only to grow stronger after Finn learned about Kurt's illness. Burt knew that Finn shouldn't have found out the way he did (was it only a year and a half ago?), but he was so grateful that Finn had somehow managed to be okay with it.

Dr. Goldberg set his notepad aside. "Okay. Let's get started."

Outside in the waiting room, Carole remained quietly reading the latest copy of Reader's Digest and listening to the receptionist's keyboard rapidly clacking. She was halfway through reading an interview with George Clooney when her purse buzzed on the chair beside her. She dug through it and pulled out Kurt's cell phone, which she always carried with her when Kurt was not in control, just in case he came back. She bit her lip when she saw the caller ID, not sure how big of a boundary she'd cross if she answered. After receiving a dirty look from the receptionist when the ringtone cut through the near-silence, she made a quick decision and grabbed her purse, disappearing into the hallway outside.

"Hello, Blaine," she said, leaning against the wall by the elevator.

"O-Oh, hi, Mrs. Hudson…" he stammered. "Sorry, I… was hoping to talk to Kurt."

She sighed. "Kurt can't talk right now, he's not here."

"Okay, do you know when he'll be back?"

"No, I meant… he's not here."

There was a long beat. "…Oh."

"Can I take a message?" Carole offered.

"N-no, that's okay, I'll talk to him later."

When Blaine didn't hang up like she expected, Carole decided to venture a step further. "Blaine, are you doing all right? Finn told me that you've been having some problems coming to terms with all of this."

Blaine was understandably offset by Carole's question. Adults didn't usually delve into teenage relationships, or at least not with their stepson's boyfriend. That was supposed to be for the boyfriend's parents to take on, after all, but Carole had heard on more than one occasion that Blaine's house was not exactly feeling-friendly.

"…I'm okay," he replied after a few moments of hesitation.

"This might sound a little weird coming from Kurt's stepmom, so feel free to say no, but… do you need someone to talk to?"

There was yet another pause, even longer than before. Eventually, Blaine's response came down the line. "Yeah. I really do."

Carole was surprised that she felt relieved that Blaine had accepted. "Okay," she said. "How about I meet you at the Lima Bean around three this afternoon?"

"That's fine. I… guess I'll see you then."

Carole ended the call and headed back to the waiting room, wondering what sort of line she'd just crossed and if it mattered.

Getting Kurt to relax had proven to be the easiest part of the hypnosis, which was saying something. Burt watched, his blood roaring in his ears, as Kurt lay on the couch with Finn sitting on the floor next to him (there wasn't another chair). Kurt almost looked like he was sound asleep aside from the irregular fluttering of his eyelids – they alternately exposed the undersides of his rolled-back eyes or the blue-green irises rapidly moving back and forth. There was a hurricane of activity taking place inside the walls of Kurt's skull.

Burt felt a strong urge to pace around the room as Dr. Goldberg spoke slowly to Kurt, but he and Finn had both been instructed to make absolutely no noise, so he clenched his jaw and stayed where he was.

"…And remember, no matter what you're doing or where you are, my voice is your lifeline…" Dr. Goldberg was reciting softly, sounding like a hack straight off a textbook page. "You are safe. Now, open your eyes, and tell me where you are."

Kurt's eyelids slid all the way open, his eyes still whipping back and forth but seeming not to register any of his surroundings. "I don't see anything…" he said, his voice disturbingly weak. "It's just black."

"Can you tell me who you are now?"

Kurt's head twitched to the side, his eyes rolling back for a moment.

"Listen to my voice, Kurt… Tell me what you're feeling."

"Angry," Kurt hissed, his teeth clicking. Burt swallowed – that was Eleanor's voice.

"Who are you right now?"

He twitched again, his legs curling up beneath him. Dr. Goldberg nodded at Finn, who grabbed Kurt's hand. Kurt didn't notice.

"Who are you now?" Dr. Goldberg repeated, a little more forcefully.

"Everyone."

Burt flinched. The voice that had come out of Kurt's mouth was so flat and low and unearthly that Burt had wondered for a moment if he was hearing things.

"Who is 'everyone'?"

"We're all here."

"How many of you are there?"

Kurt's back arched, his body going rigid.

"Who is the seventh alter?"

A growl worked its way out of Kurt's lungs. "Can't tell." His chest heaved, his spine collapsing for a second before arching up again. Finn squeezed his hand.

"You don't know or you can't tell me?"

Kurt's only response was his eyes rolling back in their sockets, his torso curling like an ant under a magnifying glass. Burt ground his teeth, trying very hard not to tell Dr. Goldberg to wake Kurt up. He didn't think Kurt's body could handle the strain of being seven (or eight) people at the same time, and was afraid his heart would burst or he would start bleeding out of his ears like he was in some effects-laden horror flick.

"Focus on my voice, Kurt," Dr. Goldberg reminded him.

Kurt arm suddenly lashed out and struck the wall, though Burt wasn't sure if it was the result of rage or a muscle spasm.

"What are you feeling?"

A strange whine squeezed out of Kurt's throat and his face contorted like he was about to cry.

"Where are you right now?"

"Nowhere."

"Can you take me back to the car accident?"

Burt's head snapped up in alarm. Dr. Goldberg hadn't said anything about forcing Kurt to relive the crash.

Kurt's breath quickened, his eyes reeling. His entire body was shaking as he ground his teeth.

And then, in the blink of an eye, he stopped moving. Every muscle went slack.

Burt swallowed audibly, having seen this only once before.

"Who are you right now?"

"No one."

Finn blanched, looking over his shoulder at Burt as he recognized the voice.

"What is your name?" Dr. Goldberg pushed.

Kurt stared at him. The doctor repeated his question three times before he received an answer.

"Schism."

Dr. Goldberg took this in stride, which made Burt's head spin. "What part do you play?"

There was no answer.

"Schism, can you tell me what you're feeling now?"

Kurt's face remained flat as he opened his mouth and uttered one of the most frightening sentences Burt had ever heard.

"I don't feel much of anything."