Blaine watched in silence. He was finally beginning to grasp a little of what Finn had meant that night in the diner by saying that these alternate personalities, even though they shared the same body, were different people independent of one another. While Blaine's earlier encounter with Eleanor had been frightening on multiple levels, Tyler seemed to be an entirely normal eight-year-old boy (other than the fact that he had an eighteen-year-old body in the form of Blaine's boyfriend), and Blaine found himself wanting to back out of his decision to dig into Kurt's past experiences just so that Tyler wouldn't get upset.

"Ty, can you tell me how the accident happened?" Finn was saying, making sure to keep his voice low and soft so as not to scare Kurt.

Kurt kept his knees drawn up to his chest, curling into a sort of ball around the stuffed elephant and refusing to make eye contact with either Finn or Blaine. "A big truck hit our car on the side," he said quietly, his words slightly muffled.

"On your mom's side of the car?"

Kurt nodded.

"Okay. What happened then?"

A strange whimpering sound came from Kurt's throat. "I don't want to tell you."

Finn reached over and wrapped his fingers around one of Kurt's hands. "It's okay, Ty, I'm right here. What happened after the truck hit the car?"

"S-spinning," said Kurt, whimpering again. "The car's on its side and Momma's over me."

"She's still in her seat?" Finn prodded, squeezing Kurt's hand.

Kurt nodded, curling more tightly around Raleigh, and didn't speak again until Finn prompted him. "I don't want to look at it," he whined.

"Tyler, look at me." Kurt managed to open his watery eyes and glance for a moment at Finn. "You're here in our living room, okay? You're not in the car. It's just a memory," Finn told him. "Can you feel my hand?"

"Mm-hm."

"Right. As long as you can feel my hand, you know you're okay." Finn gave Kurt's hand another reassuring squeeze. "What do you see in the car?"

Kurt let out a small sob. "There's blood."

"Yours?"

He shook his head, clutching Raleigh. "Momma's." There was an abrupt, sharp intake of breath, and he cried, "Wake up!"

"You're okay, Ty," Finn said loudly. "You're fine."

Blaine could feel a rock (hell, it was a boulder at this point) pressing against the walls of his throat, and when he tried to swallow the awful taste in his mouth, it only succeeded in making him wince. He could see that Finn was terrified, and was amazed that the normally socially-awkward boy seemed to really know what to do even when Kurt was panicking. Blaine found himself wondering for the thousandth time just how often Kurt had to switch in order for Finn to be so familiar with the process.

"Tyler, can you tell me what's happening?" Finn requested gently.

Kurt's head gave a tiny shake. "I don't want to."

"Just tell me what you see."

"Lots of blood," Kurt sobbed into Raleigh's fur, moving so that he was leaning against the arm of the couch. He was trying to be smaller, less noticeable. "It's all over the car and it's all over me and it smells bad." His whole body shuddered for a moment.

Finn exchanged a look with Blaine, looking like he was about to vomit. He somehow was able to keep his voice calm and level, though, as he reminded Kurt that he was all right.

"Momma's head is open."

The color drained from Blaine's face, and he ran a hand over his mouth in an attempt to rid himself of a sudden wave of nausea.

"Momma!" Kurt screamed, his body spasming. His eyes were tightly closed, his chest heaving. "I can't move!" he sobbed. "I can't move!"

"Feel my hand, Tyler," Finn coached. "When you feel my hand, you know you're okay, remember?"

Kurt was hyperventilating, winding the fingers of his free hand into his hair. "I don't want to do this any more," he wailed, his voice high-pitched and stretched, his face wet and blotchy. "Please don't make me do this."

"Stay with me, Ty," Finn said, grasping Kurt's hand tighter.

"Finn," Blaine whispered, barely loud enough to be heard over Kurt's cries. "Finn, this is torture."

Finn sighed, keeping his strong grip around Kurt's fingers. "I know," he said. "But Kurt wants you to do this, even if Tyler doesn't. How do you think Kurt's going to feel if you tell him you just didn't want to hear it?"

Blaine wanted to protest and say that he was only trying to keep Kurt from getting hurt, but he honestly was not sure if that was true.

Finn gave him a strange 'I told you so, but I wish I hadn't' look before returning his attention to Kurt, who was still crying into Raleigh's belly. "Tyler, are you okay?" he asked.

Kurt broke Finn's hold on his fingers and wrapped his arms around his head, completely obscuring his face from Finn and Blaine. "I'm tired," he whined. "I want to go to sleep."

"Just a little longer, Ty," Finn assured him. "Can you go back to the car? What stopped you from moving?"

Another strangled whimper came from Kurt's throat, and his shoulders shook. "The s-seatbelt's jammed."

"Was there anyone else there?"

"No. Just Momma." Blaine hadn't thought it was possible, but Kurt pulled his legs even closer to his chest, his arms still cradling his head.

Finn was about to ask another question, but Kurt abruptly let out a scream, his hands curling into fists. Blaine flinched, feeling like he should be doing something other than just sitting there. Kurt screamed again, and then again. Finn quickly moved to sit on the couch next to him and grabbed his hand again, placing his other hand on Kurt's shoulder. The soothing gesture didn't have much of an effect, though, as Kurt's screams only grew louder.

"Feel my hand, Tyler," Finn said loudly. "It's okay; you're okay."

Kurt's body seemed to be rocking back and forth slightly of its own accord, his fists clenching and unclenching rapidly. His screams had finally faded into choking moans, and Blaine was glad he couldn't see Kurt's face.

"Ty, can you tell me what just happened?" Finn pressed, squeezing Kurt's shoulder. He brushed his hand over Kurt's hair, trying to calm him down. "It's all right to talk about it. Nobody's going to hurt you."

"M-M-Momma's brains and stuff are coming out," Kurt wailed, his words distorted through Raleigh's stuffing. "There's blood coming out her mouth."

"Remember where you are, Ty," Finn reminded him. "It's only a memory. How long were you there?"

"I don't know! I don't want to do this any more!" Kurt's voice had risen to a scream again.

"Finn!" Blaine pleaded. "We've heard enough!"

Finn nodded in agreement, his face pinched. "Tyler, you don't have to talk any more, I promise."

"More promises, huh?"

Blaine almost fell over backwards, he was so startled by Eleanor's voice replacing Tyler's. The switch had happened so quickly that neither boy had seen any indication whatsoever that Tyler was no longer there, and Finn appeared just as shocked as Blaine, if not more so. Kurt had wrenched his hand away from Finn and tossed Raleigh onto the floor, where the elephant flopped limply against Blaine's feet, its plastic beaded eyes staring crookedly upwards.

"Oh, look, it's the douchebag again!" Kurt exclaimed, his voice oozing with pure loathing as he noticed Blaine. He sat forward, his legs unfolding for the first time since Kurt had checked out. "Who'd you scare this time?"

"Hey—" Finn started, about to protest in Blaine's defense.

"Save it," Kurt snapped, standing up and striding out towards the kitchen with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

Blaine watched his boyfriend disappear down the hall, stunned. "What… what now?"

Finn shrugged, leaning back against the couch. "I don't know. We should give him a minute, though. Eleanor might have a fit if we bother him too soon."

Blaine nodded wordlessly, his mind still reeling. He couldn't quite fathom that it was possible for Kurt to be clutching a toy and screaming one second and storming off in annoyance the next. Nor did he understand how the hell Finn could live with it.

"You knew exactly what to say," Blaine said thoughtfully.

Finn shook his head. "No, I think I pushed him too much. I was just as freaked out as you were." Then he looked at Blaine askance. "Wait, dude… are you like, worried that you're not good enough or something? 'Cause that is really untrue."

"Thanks," Blaine said. "I think. But no, that wasn't what I was thinking. I just… God, how long was he stuck in that car? Do you know?"

"Kurt was never able to tell me anything about it, but Burt knew the vague details of what happened, and it wasn't really that hard to fill in the gaps," Finn said. "All Burt told me was that Linda died in a… really bad way, and that the accident happened at night on a really secluded road. Plus, they didn't own any cell phones when Kurt was little, and the driver of the truck couldn't call anyone because he was dead, so it took like forever for them to get help. If I had to guess, I'd say at least four hours."

"Jesus."

Finn opened his mouth to reply, but then his face contorted into a frown and he looked towards the kitchen.

"What is it?"

"I think I heard something." Finn stood up and walked into the hall, Blaine quickly pulling himself to his feet and following behind. "Eleanor?" Finn called, approaching the kitchen. "Ele— KURT!"

Finn had run forward and grabbed Kurt around the torso, holding Kurt's arm away from his body, before Blaine had even seen what was happening.

The first thing he did see, however, were the drops of red on the counter, and his heart and stomach plummeted to his feet. Kurt's arm bore a cut (not deep, but enough to be one of the most frightening things Blaine had ever seen) diagonally across his inner forearm, halfway between the elbow and wrist. Clutched in the hand that Finn was holding tightly enough to bruise was a kitchen knife, and Kurt was yelling incoherently as he tried to break out of Finn's hold.

"Let Kurt out, Eleanor!" Finn shouted, struggling to keep the knife away from Kurt's body.

"FUCK YOU!"

Blaine was frozen for several seconds, and then as Kurt screamed, he rushed forward to help Finn wrestle the knife from Kurt's grasp. But just as he came close enough to actually do anything, Kurt and Finn's arms whipped backwards as they fought to gain control, and the sharp blade snapped back and sliced through the skin on Blaine's left cheek.

Blaine let out a yell, falling backwards with his hand over his stinging face. Finn's eyes widened at the sight of Blaine's blood leaking out of the thin cut, but he couldn't let go of Kurt, who was so far gone in hysterics that neither he nor anyone else in his head was able to notice that Blaine was hurt.

"Blaine, just stay there!" Finn shouted, out of breath. Finally, Finn slammed Kurt's hand against the counter, forcing the fingers to unlock from around the knife handle. The knife clattered into the sink and out of reach.

Blaine wiped smears of blood away from his cheek, his palm and fingers turned bright red. He stared at Kurt, whose face was contorted with so much rage that he didn't look anything like Kurt at all, and Blaine suddenly felt very strongly like he needed to vomit or his skull would crack from all the pressure building up inside it.

With a bloody hand covering his face, Blaine ducked his head and all but ran out of the house.