The student body at McKinley hadn't yet forgotten about Jacob's article, and Finn spent the day receiving wary glances and dirty looks from most of the kids he didn't know. More than a little annoyed, Finn decided to ignore them for the time being and he stuck close to the people he did know and trust. At their usual lunch table, everyone in the club was present except for Blaine. Finn was squished between Mike and Santana, halfheartedly picking at the soggy cafeteria pizza.

"So, what's with the bruise?" Santana asked, forcing Finn to look up.

"Huh? What bruise?"

"On your neck," she said, gesturing to her throat. "What happened?"

"I don't see a bruise," Artie said from across the table.

Santana rolled her eyes. "All my brothers are kickboxers. I know my bruises."

Finn scratched at his neck self-consciously. "It's nothing," he said.

Puck raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, like we're going to buy that." He crunched a carrot between his teeth. "So, which Kurt did it?"

Finn gave him a frosty glare. "Just because you spent an hour with two of Kurt's alters doesn't give you the right to just waltz into our home life."

Puck held up his hands. "Jeez. Chill."

"I really don't understand what's going on, anyway," Tina piped up from Mike's other side. "I mean… Kurt's more than one person? How is that even possible?"

"It's possible," Finn replied tightly.

"No, it isn't," Quinn cut in, stabbing at her salad bowl. "It's a defense mechanism and that's all."

Finn's eyes narrowed at her. "Sorry, but who in your family has DID?"

"Nobody, because it's not real." Before Finn could open his mouth again, she continued harshly. "I am not saying that whatever Kurt went through wasn't terrible, but one person cannot have more than one personality – it's impossible. After I had Beth, I changed everything about myself to cope with the loss, and that's exactly what Kurt's doing."

Finn had to swallow the sour taste in his mouth before responding. "You joining the Skanks and dying your hair and getting a stupid tattoo does not mean that you can compare yourself to Kurt's situation," he said slowly, his eyes hard. "You had a baby and gave her away, big freaking deal. At least you can remember what happened to you. Actually, scratch that, nothing happened toyou. You did it all to yourself, so throw yourself a private pity party and back the hell off my brother."

He shoved his lunch tray away and stood up, storming out of the cafeteria and leaving the rest of the table stunned.

There was an awkward silence that stretched over the rest of the club until Mercedes finally sighed and turned to Quinn. "You should be ashamed."

"I'm only pointing out the reality," Quinn insisted. "I don't know what Kurt went through, but I know it was awful and I know that he does need to cope somehow. There's nothing wrong with that. All I'm saying is that it's ridiculous to assume he would or evencould split into more than one person."

"I agree with Quinn," Sugar piped up from beside Rory, who looked like he'd much rather be doing anything than debating mental illness.

Rachel shook her head. "Have you even seen him?" she asked Quinn. "I mean, when he's not Kurt?"

"No, but it doesn't matter—"

"Yes, it does," Puck interrupted. "Finn's right. I don't care what you believe – I saw two of his other people and they were notKurt. Plus, they didn't have a clue who Mercedes was. If that's not proof, I don't know what is."

Quinn pursed her mouth. "The human brain is capable of a lot of things," she said. "But holding more than one person is something it can't do."

Finn was still seething at the end of the day. He pulled his truck in to park next to Kurt's Navigator and stepped out into the cold snow, his breath fogging in front of his nose. Climbing the steps onto the porch, he stomped the snow off his boots and entered the kitchen to see Kurt sitting at the table reading the newspaper, clothed in one of Robbie's Black Sabbath t-shirts and jeans.

"Hey, Rob," he said, hanging up his coat.

"No, it's me," replied Kurt's voice.

Finn frowned. "Um, why are you dressed like Robbie, then?" he asked, then stopped short, his mouth falling open. "And why do you have no hair?!"

Kurt sighed, running a hand over his head. His hair had been cut close to the scalp, leaving not much more than a military buzz behind. He wasn't bald by any means, but it did look incredibly strange. "Eleanor went a little crazy this morning," he said. "Carole had to buzz it to make it even."

"Jeez." Finn sat down across from Kurt. "That sucks."

"I know. She got my ear a little, too." Kurt gestured to the scabbed-over slice across the top half of his ear. Finn winced.

"So… why are you dressed like Robbie?"

Kurt shrugged. "Robbie was around for awhile this afternoon, and I didn't really feel like changing. Not to mention the fact that my wardrobe has been rendered pretty much useless because of my new hairstyle."

Finn grinned. "Well, I think it makes you look butch."

"Please, I am butch."

The two of them laughed, Kurt running his hand over his head again. "God, it feels weird. I've never had it this short."

"Wow, I never noticed before, but your widow's peak is huge."

"Shut up."

"No, seriously! You look like Dracula!"

"Yeah, well, maybe I'll develop an alter who's a vampire."

Finn's eyes widened, his imagination running wild. "I can't decide if that would be scary or really freaking cool."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "You watch too many movies." He stood up and set about brewing a mug of tea. "How was school?"

Finn shrugged, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "It was okay, I guess. Everyone's still worried about you." He decided not to mention Quinn's blatant and insulting disbelief in Kurt's condition.

"I'm surprised they haven't all run away screaming," Kurt said dryly, his back to Finn as he poured hot water into his cup.

"Come on, dude, they won't do that."

"Not that I'd blame them," Kurt continued, seeming not to have heard Finn. "Hey, have you spoken to Blaine? I haven't really seen him since our fight."

"Sorry, no."

Kurt let out a long breath, staring out the window over the sink. "He won't return my calls."

"He'll come around," Finn promised. "Don't worry about it too much." He watched Kurt, waiting for a response, but Kurt's shoulders slumped and he swayed for a moment before steadying himself. "Kurt? You okay?"

When Kurt didn't speak, Finn stood up to place a hand on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt smacked it away.

"Fuck off, homo."

Finn huffed. "Oh. Hey, Craig." All the irritability that Finn had been feeling before walking in the door rushed back as Kurt pulled a beer out of the fridge and yanked the cap off with his teeth. "Don't suppose there's any chance of you letting Kurt back at the wheel right now, is there?"

Kurt's lip curled. "I oughta beat that little faggot's ass. That is, unless Kurt throws himself off a bridge first, and hey, let's face it, that would be better for everybody."

Finn flinched involuntarily, feeling sick. He couldn't think of anything to say. Kurt simply turned and went to the living room to watch the football game.

It was nearing eleven at night when Blaine was startled awake by his cell phone blasting the Wallace & Gromit theme from his bedside table. Groggily, he fumbled to press the answer button. "What is it, Finn?" he yawned.

"Is Kurt with you?"

Blaine's eyebrows snapped together, his brain suddenly alert. "No, why?"

Finn swore loudly.

"Finn, what's going on?" Blaine demanded, sitting upright and turning on his lamp.

"Kurt was here, he was fine, and then… I dunno, he must have snuck out. His car's gone," Finn rushed. "But Kurt wouldn't sneak out, which means that one of the alters is loose." He swore again.

Blaine's heart quickened and he quickly grabbed a sweatshirt from his closet. "Okay, I'm on my way out. Where are you?"

"I'm just leaving the house," Finn said, and Blaine could hear Finn's truck's door slam shut and the engine start. "Can you call the rest of the club?"

"Absolutely. He's probably at Rachel's or Mercedes' house."

"Well, I hope he is, because if he's not, we don't know where he is."