The first thing Kurt felt when he came around was a sharp pain in his hand, and he yelped and yanked it away from whatever was causing the sting.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," said Carole's voice, and Kurt blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the light. He was in the upstairs bathroom, sitting on the edge of the tub. Carole was in front of him, sitting on top of the toilet and pulling his hands back to her lap. "Sorry, honey, I know it hurts," she said, squeezing his knee and swiping a damp cotton swab over his palms.

"Ow," he hissed as his skin stung. This time, he managed not to pull away. He frowned at his palms, each of which sported several open cuts – small slices that could have been made by a razor blade or broken glass. They hadn't scabbed over yet, but they weren't really bleeding either, and Kurt was relieved that none of them looked too deep. He grimaced when he saw the small jagged shards of glass flecked with blood resting in a tiny pile on the counter next to the sink, along with a pair of tweezers, and he was grateful that he hadn't been awake when Carole had pulled them out.

"What did I do?" he asked as Carole set the cotton swabs and disinfectant on the sink counter.

She smiled at him. "Hey, sweetie, welcome back," she said, wrapping a thin layer of bandages around his hands. "Zack was having a bit of a hard time this afternoon."

Kurt exhaled slowly. "Did you have to lock him up?"

"I'm sorry, honey," Carole sighed. "I wish there was some other way of dealing with it when that happens, but nothing really seems to calm them down except letting them wear themselves out."

"It's fine." Kurt was quiet for a long time, debating whether or not he wanted to know what had triggered it.

Carole broke the silence first. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Kurt had to think for a moment before responding. "Talking to Artie on the phone just after I got up." He glanced out the tiny bathroom window, frowning when he realized it was dark out. "Wait, what time is it?"

"Almost nine."

"Is it still Friday?"

"Yeah, you just missed about fourteen hours, give or take," Carole explained. "Truman was here in the morning, Eleanor was out for most of the day, and then Zack woke up around five."

Kurt's heart twisted painfully in his chest. He was losing more and more time, disappearing for longer stretches, and he knew it. He fleetingly wondered how long it would be before he would miss entire days or weeks. If it came to that.

Carole finished tying the bandage on his left hand and moved on to his right. "Kurt, I need you to answer something honestly."

His eyebrows snapped together. "Okay…"

Carole paused her work to look him in the eye. "Were you hiding the burns from us?"

Kurt stared at her, at a loss for how to respond. He felt his stomach wrench in his gut, and the base of his throat began to ache. He swallowed, letting out a long breath. "I… I didn't know how to tell you and Dad."

Carole's eyes were brimming, her hands on his knees. "Kurt, the only thing we want is to help you," she said. "We can't do that if you don't tell us these things. You owe it to us to be honest, sweetie. I need to help you, Finn needs to help you, and your dad definitely needs to help you, or else he'll go crazy. Do you understand?"

Kurt nodded silently since his throat hurt a little too much to talk. Carole leaned forward to press a quick kiss to his forehead.

"Do you mind taking off your shirt?" she asked. "I've got some stuff to help the burns heal."

Kurt drew a breath to steady his nerves before grabbing his shirt to pull it over his head. "Ow!" he hissed as a fresh sting stabbed sharply through the skin on his neck.

"You okay?" Carole asked, her eyebrows knitted together.

Kurt winced as he prodded the depression behind his ear. Carole reached up and gently turned his head to the side.

"You've got another burn," she said.

"Great."

"It'll be fine," she insisted. "You'll be fine."

Carole helped him pull off his shirt, and once it was off Kurt had to resist the impulse to wrap his arms around his chest and hide himself as much as possible. Carole didn't say anything as she rubbed a small amount of ointment over each burn. Kurt purposefully stared at the tiled wall until she was finished.

"By the way," she said once she was done, recapping the little tube of burn salve. "You have a pool party to go to tomorrow."

"What?"

Carole smiled as she began to put away the first-aid kit. "You can blame Zack. He overheard Finn on the phone with Puck."

Kurt blinked at her. "Still confused."

"All your school friends wanted to throw a little party for you before you left," she explained, still smiling. "But Zack heard Finn and Puck talking about it an hour ago and decided he wanted it to be at the community pool."

"…Seriously?"

"Yep."

"But… I can't go to something like that…" Kurt trailed off.

Carole shook her head, sitting back down on top of the toilet to look Kurt in the eye. "Kurt, you've got to understand that this party isn't about you. They want to give you a party because they love you and they want you to know it. It's not for you; it's for them."

Kurt swallowed. "But what if I switch?" he pressed. There were too many variables he had already thought of in the past thirty seconds – not the least of which was that his two youngest alters both had no idea how to swim – and for God's sake, he didn't want to be seen like this. Not rapidly switching between alters and covered in cigarette burns and with hair that still hadn't really started to grow back.

Carole reached up and squeezed his shoulder. "Your dad and I are going to be there with you the entire time, and Finn will be there too. We're not going to leave you to deal with this on your own, but we're not about to let you shut yourself off completely, either."

Kurt hung his head for a moment, blinking back a sudden onset of tears and mumbling something a little too quiet for Carole to hear.

"What'd you say?" she asked.

With his throat burning, Kurt repeated himself. "I don't want to hurt anyone."

Carole pressed her lips together, taking Kurt's hands in hers, and spoke firmly. "Kurt, you have never hurt anyone, and you never will. As for the alters, we're not going to let them. They need to understand that you are going to win this fight."

"But what if I don't?"

Carole shook her head vehemently. "That's not possible. Kurt, you're the strongest person I've ever met. That includes your alters."

By this point, Kurt had lost the fight to hold his tears back and was now battling to breathe without shaking (another fight he was currently losing). "I'm just—" He hiccoughed and wiped his cheeks on the back of his hand. "I'm tired of this. I'm sick of it, and I-I don't want to fight any more."

"Tough luck, sweetie."

Kurt blinked in surprise. "What?" he sniffed.

"I said, tough luck. None of this should have ever happened to you, Kurt. But it did, and now you don't have a choice."