By this point, Kurt had lost control of his body often enough to be well-adjusted to the physical confines he experienced in his own head. Ever since he was little, he'd imagined the inside of his mind to look like the playground near his old house that his mother used to take him to before she died. As the different pieces of himself drifted further apart over the years, the playground began to manifest more solidly – like an actual dream rather than a fleeting fantasy – and the alters eventually showed up to populate it.

Once Kurt had lost sight of Sebastian's car pulling out of the driveway, he felt the familiar blackness wrap itself around his mouth and nose, cutting off his air. He stopped breathing only for a few seconds, though, and when he opened his eyes he was sitting on a swing in his playground. The sky overhead was blue but was quickly turning grey as the clouds rapidly swelled.

The rest of the alters were scattered around the area – none of them him but all bearing a face and body identical to his own. He could see Craig slouching on a bench on the other side of the slide, Tyler crouching in the sandbox playing with Raleigh, and Eleanor off to his right tossing rocks at a squirrel in a tree. Schism was lying half-curled inside the cage of the jungle gym, in the same position as always.

Robbie walked up then, sinking onto the swing next to Kurt. "Bad day?" he said.

Kurt nodded, watching Truman do pull-ups on the monkey bars. No matter how often he witnessed it, it was unsettling to see someone physically identical to himself act so differently, but he supposed that was something akin to what his family felt every time he disappeared.

"Where's Zack?" he asked, noticing that there was no giggling Kurt-incarnate running in circles round the playground.

Robbie glanced up at the darkening sky. "Must be up top," he said.

"Well, at least it's not Eleanor," Kurt sighed, leaning his head against the swing chain. "I was sure she'd take over."

"Yeah, she was yelling at you a few minutes ago, but I guess Zack got there first."

Kurt chuckled dryly, relieved that he didn't have to be on edge. He was always anxious in this otherwise peaceful place if he knew Eleanor was in control, doing god-knows-what with his body without regret. The same went for Truman, and Craig on occasion. But Kurt knew he didn't have to worry about Zack.

"Eleanor yelling at me when I'm not here?" he said. "What does that even look like?"

"Oh, you know," Robbie shrugged. "Screaming, throwing rocks at the sky like it'll do a fucking ounce of good. The usual."

"I guess she's got to let it out somewhere," Kurt mused, watching a thick bank of dark clouds roll over the sun. "And better she does it here than out there."

Eleanor seemed to have grown bored with the squirrel and had moved on to tossing pieces of gravel at Tyler, laughing when he complained.

"Ow! Stop it!" Tyler yelped.

Eleanor snickered and lobbed a pebble at his head, which caught him sharply on the temple. Kurt sighed and jumped off the swing as Tyler began to cry. "Guess I'd better put a stop to that," Kurt said, leaving Robbie at the swing set.

"Good luck," Robbie called after him. "The brat's been cranky all day."

Kurt hopped into the sandbox and wrapped an arm around Tyler's shoulders, sending a death glare in Eleanor's direction. "Squirrels not enough for you?" he snapped.

Eleanor grinned. "They just squeak, but he squeals," she said, reaching in to jab at Tyler's shoulder. Tyler flinched, sniffing.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "You don't intimidate me, Eleanor."

Her smile stretched, and it was creepy to have Kurt's own face making that particular expression back at him. "No, but I intimidate everyone else out there, and that's what matters to you."

"Screw you," Kurt spat, annoyed that she was right. But if Eleanor was a part of himself, he figured it was only logical that she would know exactly why she bothered him. With a huff, he pulled Tyler to his feet. "Come on, let's do something else," he said.

Leaving Eleanor to her own devices, Kurt went back to the swing set with Tyler. "Can you push me and Raleigh?" Tyler asked, sitting on the swing formerly occupied by Kurt. Robbie was still sitting on the other one.

Kurt smiled and did as Tyler asked, struggling to push the weight. "You'd think being eight years old would make him lighter," Kurt commented.

"Only his mind," Robbie snorted.

Tyler laughed along with Kurt, though Kurt was fairly sure that Tyler wasn't sure what they were laughing at. He didn't care to explain it – it was rare to see Tyler smile and even rarer to hear him laugh, so Kurt figured he'd let his younger self hold onto the feeling for as long as he could.

While Kurt pushed Tyler on the swing, Tyler held Raleigh out in front of him so that the elephant's worn ears flapped in the breeze like Dumbo. Robbie stayed on his own swing, quietly watching the sky.

"Don't you think it's weird?" Robbie said after a few minutes.

"What?"

"We never get weather here," he answered. "Not real weather anyways."

Making sure to continue pushing Tyler on the swing, Kurt followed Robbie's gaze up to the sky. Dark clouds were rolling – not just drifting, but swelling up and crashing over each other like ocean waves. Kurt blinked as a few raindrops began to patter the ground.

"It's raining!" Tyler exclaimed.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Robbie remarked. He didn't seem to be paying any real attention to Tyler, though, and the comment had sounded more reflexive than anything else. "I don't like this," he said.

Kurt didn't need to ask why Robbie was uneasy. Having any weather at the playground beyond a sparsely cloudy sky was bizarre, and there was an odd energy in the air as if lightning were about to strike the place where they were standing. The rain was beginning to come down more heavily, and Kurt told Tyler to go underneath one of the playground's platforms to keep dry. Tyler scampered off, and Kurt was about to follow him when a commotion from the monkey bars made him turn.

Truman and Eleanor were on the ground, wrestling with each other and clearly not playing around. "YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH," Eleanor screeched, pummeling Truman's abdomen.

It was obvious Truman was unperturbed by Eleanor's attack beyond mild annoyance. She was physically weaker than he was by a long shot – he exercised, she was eleven – and so he seemed to be toying with her more than anything else. Each time she hit him, he would only slap her hand away and give her a cruel grin.

"Think we should intervene?" Robbie said from Kurt's left. The rain was coming down harder – the two of them were already sufficiently damp, along with the other alters still out in the open.

"I'm not sure," Kurt admitted. "I mean… Eleanor's not exactly controllable when she's like this, but Truman can handle himself."

"FUCK YOU!" Eleanor screamed, finally giving up on Truman's stomach and driving her knee straight into his nether region.

"Whoa," Robbie cringed as Truman staggered, bracing an arm against the jungle gym. Schism watched them blankly from inside, already soaked but reacting to neither the rain nor the conflict between Truman and Eleanor.

Kurt winced, seeing the pain contorting Truman's face. Every guy was familiar with the agony of being hit right where it counted; he knew exactly how Truman felt.

Then, something stranger than the rain happened.

Truman gritted his teeth, opening his eyes again and glaring at Eleanor with such pure, raw hatred that for a moment Kurt thought Truman had morphed into Craig. Truman's lip curled, and he lunged.

Kurt and Robbie barely had time to react before Eleanor was lifted off her feet and tossed like a rag doll against the jungle gym, her head smacking solidly against the metal bars. Schism didn't blink.

Eleanor fell to the ground, sobbing, and Kurt and Robbie broke into a run. Truman reached down and grabbed Eleanor's head with the intent of bashing her skull against the bars again, but before he could do so Robbie collided with him and knocked him to the ground.

Kurt pulled Eleanor up off the gravel. "Are you okay?" he said. Eleanor nodded shakily, holding her head where it had been bruised.

By now, the lot of them (except for Tyler, who was still cowering underneath the platforms and watching the entire fight with wide eyes) were completely drenched, and the rain was coming down in sheets. Thunder rumbled from the roiling clouds, and Robbie looked up from where he was pinning Truman to the ground.

"I don't like this, Kurt," he said loudly to be heard over the rain. "Something's wrong."

"Get off me, fucker!" Truman snarled from underneath Robbie.

"Fuck you!" Eleanor cried, now sounding more generally unhappy than angry. "Go to hell!"

Oddly, Eleanor actually leaned against Kurt then, sagging wearily on his shoulder. Truman growled and tried to shove Robbie off him, his face reddened and absolutely livid. Kurt kept Eleanor from falling over as a streak of lightning ripped through the blackened clouds and a clap of thunder temporarily muted all other sounds. Kurt could see that Truman was screaming profanities at Robbie and Eleanor both, but couldn't hear it over the noise.

Finally, as the thunder died away, Robbie yelled over his shoulder. "Kurt, something's wrong! You have to go up top! Get Zack back down here!"

"I don't know how!" Kurt cried, just as nervous as Robbie. "It's not like there's a ladder going up there – I'm either here or there. I can't control it."

Robbie was struggling to keep Truman down, but Kurt could see that he was losing the battle. Kurt pushed Eleanor behind him, tensing as Truman finally succeeded in shoving Robbie onto the gravel and driving his fist into Robbie's nose, hard. Kurt cringed as there was a wet-sounding crack and blood poured down Robbie's face, dripping onto the ground. Leaving Robbie spitting up blood, Truman whirled around and headed straight for Kurt and Eleanor, his fists clenched.

Kurt backed up quickly, still keeping Eleanor behind him. Truman drew his fist back and was about to break Kurt's nose as well when Craig abruptly cut in, shoving Truman away from Kurt.

"You touch him and I will break your fucking fingers," Craig snarled.

Truman grinned, edging closer and looking eerily like a Doberman pulling at its chain. "Come on, Gramps, we're just having a little fun."

"Back the fuck up."

"Fuck you," Truman snapped, the smile vanishing. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"You know exactly who I am, asshole. Now back the fuck up, or I swear to God I will slit your fucking throat."

For several seconds, the only sounds were the rain and thunder. Kurt stared as Craig clenched his fists and Truman seemed to debate whether or not it was worth it. Eleanor remained frozen.

Finally, Truman let out a growl of frustration and stormed off in the other direction. Lightning cracked through the clouds again, reaching down and ensnaring its tendrils around a nearby tree, which burst into flames. Tyler screamed from his shelter, hugging Raleigh tightly.

"Come on," Kurt said to Eleanor, ushering her to the platform where Tyler was hiding. He pushed her out of the rain and went back to pull Robbie to his feet. There was a widening bloodstain soaking the front of Robbie's shirt from his nose, and he was clutching his face as Kurt half-dragged him underneath the platform.

"What now?" Eleanor asked, watching the storm.

Kurt told Robbie to hold his head back (though he doubted the bleeding would actually harm Robbie, since technically none of this was real). "I don't know," he replied to Eleanor. "I guess we just wait it out."

"What do you think's happening up there?" she said as the rain pelted the gravel.

Kurt looked up at the black clouds colliding and splashing over one another. "I have no idea."

It was only a few minutes before the rain abruptly stopped and the last rumble of thunder was swallowed up by the vanishing clouds. The tree that had been struck by lightning was still burning, but the fire was slowly dying.

"Is it over?" Tyler whispered, clutching Raleigh to his chest like a vise.

"I think so," Kurt answered, sending Tyler a smile over his shoulder even though he was still so nervous his hands were shaking.

Robbie spat a dollop of blood onto the gravel. "I'm gonna kill that asshole," he slurred through the blood draining back into his mouth.

"Let Craig handle Truman – then he might be less interested in beating up real people," Kurt said, still watching the sky. He was worried the storm would return as quickly as it had disappeared.

Before he could do or say anything else, the playground vanished and Kurt felt the blackness suddenly snatch him back. A few moments of suffocation, and then he sucked in a breath of air and opened his eyes.

He was in his own bedroom.

And it was completely destroyed.

His mattress had been overturned against the wall, his bureau tipped over and its contents strewn across the floor. His vanity table had also been tipped and the mirror smashed. The clothes in his closet had been tossed into the rest of the chaos, and Kurt could see that most of his jackets and scarves had been ripped. His alarm clock had clearly been thrown against the wall and was now lying on its side on the floor, but was still showing the correct time, if the light outside the window was anything to go by.

12:48 p.m.

He ran a hand over his short hair, frustrated with the cleanup he now faced, and saw that his fingers, palms, and forearms were covered in streaks of Crayola marker ink in all different colors. He sighed. At least it was washable, unlike the time he'd woken up to find that Truman had drawn a crude depiction of male genitalia on his cheek in black Sharpie.

Kurt went to the door with the intention of going to the bathroom to wash off the ink, but instead was stopped when the door wouldn't open. He jiggled the handle, which wasn't having any problem turning. It wasn't locked. There was something blocking it on the other side. Kurt jammed his shoulder against the door, trying to move whatever it was out of the way.

"Zack, you're just going to have to stay in there until you calm down," came a voice from the other side.

"Finn, it's me!" Kurt said loudly. "Why is this blocked?"

"Oh, crap, sorry," Finn said. There was a rustling on the other side, and the door swung open a second later.

"Finn, what are you doing?" Kurt demanded, spotting a short coil of rope in his stepbrother's hand.

"I was guarding you," Finn replied. "We had to tie your door shut 'cause it only locks from the inside."

Kurt frowned, an unpleasant sinking feeling settling in his stomach. "…Why?"

Finn gave him an odd look. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Uh, talking to Sebastian," Kurt said. "Why?"

Finn's eyebrows shot up. "Sebastian?" he echoed. "He was here?"

"Yeah, he stopped by to return my phone, that's it. What's going on?"

"Crap, Sebastian must've triggered it somehow," Finn muttered, raking his fingers through his hair.

"Triggered what?" Kurt's stomach was beginning to twist in anxiety. "Sebastian didn't try anything, if that's what you mean."

Finn shook his head. "Dude, my mom was gone for, like, fifteen minutes," he said. "You were asleep when she left and when she came back, Zack was having some kind of freakout."

Kurt's forehead furrowed in confusion. Zack didn't have freakouts. That was why Kurt didn't have to worry about him.

"Wait, aren't you supposed to be in school right now?"

"I came home early after Mom called me."

Kurt's shoulders slumped. "It was that bad?"

Finn gave a small apologetic shrug. "It's fine," he said. "You're back now, and we got most of downstairs cleaned up."

"Wait, downstairs?" Kurt repeated.

"Zack broke pretty much every plate in the kitchen," Finn admitted. "…And he kinda drew all over the walls."

Kurt groaned, hiding his face in his hands. At least the marker ink all over his arms was explained.

"You okay?" Finn asked.

Kurt wanted to scream that no, of course he wasn't, but he held his tongue and said he was fine – he just wanted to wash off. Finn followed him to the bathroom and stood in the doorway as Kurt scrubbed his hands.

"Don't worry so much," Finn said, utterly failing at sounding comforting. "Your interview at Appalachian is tomorrow afternoon, and they'll admit you and you'll be with people who actually know how to help you."

Kurt swallowed, fighting the lump in his throat. He'd almost forgotten about the evaluation interview.

"Do you really think I need a hospital?" he asked, his voice cracking.

Finn's mouth tightened. "I think it's your only chance."