After dropping Finn off at school on Saturday morning for his pre-Regionals rehearsal, Burt and Carole headed straight for the highway to Athens. Neither of them had slept for the duration of the night, and they'd made a joint decision to not tell Finn about what they'd found in Linda's old address book. Finn was stressed out enough as it was, and he needed a break from All Things Kurt, at least for a few days.

For the entire three hours and two minutes between Lima and the parking lot in front of the Appalachian Behavioral Health Center, Burt was silent, his teeth clenched and his knuckles white where he gripped the steering wheel. It wasn't until they'd parked in front of the hospital and were about to climb out of the car when Carole finally mustered up the courage to gently grip Burt's arm, stopping him from opening the door.

"Burt, what exactly are you planning on doing?" she asked softly.

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean," she started slowly, hesitant. She knew more than most just how bad Burt's temper could be, especially if he'd been holding it in for so long. "When you see Kurt, what are you going to do?"

Burt frowned, sitting back in his seat. "You mean if Kurt's there or if it's one of the others?"

"Either," Carole said. "Do you really think Kurt wants to know about Truman?"

"Maybe he already knows," Burt replied darkly.

Carole shook her head, unwilling to believe that Kurt would have kept something that big secret. A few cigarette burns were one thing. Holding his own rapist (Carole wanted to vomit) in his head for years was quite another. "Burt, you can't go attacking Truman," she said.

"I'm not going to attack him, Carole!"

"I don't mean physically, Burt. You pushed Zack too far last week – I want you to be careful you don't do the same to Truman."

Burt's jaw twitched. "I'd be more concerned for Zack's wellbeing than Truman's."

Carole shook her head vehemently. "No," she said firmly. "No. Truman has the capacity to hurt him, Burt. He's also willing, and he might even actively want to hurt Kurt. The last time we provoked him, he tried to stab Finn. Do you really want to risk Kurt ending up in the hospital again?"

Burt's voice was pained – he knew she was right, but he didn't quite want to admit it. "He's already in the hospital."

"You know what I meant." Carole took a deep breath, wrapping her hand around Burt's fingers. "Just promise me you won't push him."

"Truman or Kurt?"

"All of them."

Burt's mouth pressed into a thin line, his eyes hard and determined. But he finally let out a long exhale and nodded.

Carole squeezed his hand. "You are amazing," she said resolutely.

"I don't know about that," he muttered as she gave him a peck on the cheek. "Let's go."

"It'll be fine," she added, knowing that the odds of 'fine' had grown exponentially slimmer in the past twenty-four hours. Burt knew it too, but he returned her assurances with a wan smile before stepping out of the car.

They signed in on the Visitor Register sheet at the front desk and were allowed to pass through to the elevator up to the second floor. While the ground floor consisted entirely of doctor's offices and outpatient treatment facilities (group meeting rooms and the like), the second floor was the residence hall. Divided into twelve separate wards (six for men and six for women) all with various patient capacities, the patients were grouped together not by their illness but rather their illnesses' severity, and the more residents in one ward, the less sick they were. Kurt was in the ward with the fewest people.

Burt and Carole checked in at the small nurses' station and walked down the hall towards the blue double doors to Kurt's ward, Carole clutching Burt's hand all the way. As the nurse at the station had instructed, they waited outside the doors in silence until Dr. McManus appeared, a pen tucked behind one ear and another five in his shirt pocket.

"How is he?" Burt pressed before the doctor had even reached them. "Is Kurt back?"

Dr. McManus stopped in front of them, his fingers fiddling with the strap holding his ID card. "No, he isn't, not so far as I'm aware," he said apologetically. "The last time I saw him was about two hours ago, so things might've changed, but I doubt it."

Burt swallowed and Carole's heart sank. She squeezed Burt's hand tighter, worrying at her lip.

"So… who's been awake for the last day and a half?" Burt asked breathlessly.

Dr. McManus pushed his glasses up his nose. "Well, up until early this morning it was Zack, I think. Since he spent the night in solitary I can't be entirely sure if anyone else came out during that time, but my bet would be they did. I can't say who, though." He coughed lightly. "Since Zack left, however, Robbie's been awake consistently throughout the day."

Burt nodded, and Carole forced herself to breathe evenly.

"How much do you know about Robbie, exactly?" McManus asked.

Carole blinked at the question in confusion. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, is there anyone in Kurt's life – past or present – you think he could be based on? I know Kurt has a brother."

Burt shook his head. "No, Finn's nothing like Robbie, and Robbie's been around for years. Kurt didn't even meet Finn until high school."

McManus nodded, his mouth pursing in thought.

"What?" Burt prompted.

"I think I may have a theory as to Robbie's origins," he said. "I've noticed some pretty telltale trends in his behavior indicating that he's the peacemaker of the group."

Carole's frown only deepened. "What does that mean?"

McManus scratched at the back of his neck. "Well, when I tried to get Eleanor to talk about Franklin, as soon as she started Robbie kicked her out and became extremely uncooperative. But," he continued. "Robbie also comes out after pretty much every emotional outburst that Kurt experiences, not to mention the fact that Kurt's told me Robbie will often take over just so that Craig or Eleanor don't."

"I don't understand," Carole pressed.

"I think Robbie steadies the ship, so to speak," McManus clarified. "I could be wrong, but the way I see it he seems to be the alter whose job it is to keep everything on a plateau. He'll try to stop anything that might make Kurt's stress levels elevate."

Burt glanced through the small window in the door to the ward. "And… and that's a good thing, right?"

"It can be," said the doctor. "Robbie is most likely the reason Kurt's made it thus far, but that doesn't mean he won't fight integration tooth and nail."

Carole felt her heart lurch a second time.

"Were you able to find anything about this John character?" McManus asked, and Carole felt the skin of Burt's hand go a little colder.

"He… he's Truman," Burt managed. "Truman is Franklin. I mean, he's John." He shook his head. "They're all the same."

McManus' eyes opened wide. "An abuser alter? How do you know?"

Burt told him about the address book in the attic, and the doctor frowned deeply. "Unfortunately, that's pretty damning evidence there," he said. "It makes sense, though. Kurt's mind had to figure out a way to protect itself; it's not that uncommon a reaction in someone developing DID."

Burt didn't want to hear the statistics. "How do we get rid of him?"

McManus let out a long breath, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "We get Kurt integrated. We get him better."

"Can we see him now?" Carole asked, her voice trembling slightly.

McManus blinked, as if he'd just remembered why they were there in the first place, and nodded. "I'm afraid we had to put him back in solitary a couple hours ago," he said, and Carole felt Burt's fingers clench between hers. "Robbie tried to hit one of the other residents."

"I want to see my son," Burt snapped.

"You can see him," McManus said quickly. "Of course you can. But he needs to stay in solitary until things calm down enough, and I'm going to have to ask someone to stay with you while you're there. They'll wait outside the door as a safety measure."

Burt's hand clenched again. Carole squeezed back until his fingers relaxed, and they followed Dr. McManus down another hallway.

For Carole, this particular hallway seemed to grow longer the further they walked, though with the pastel yellow walls and soft carpeting it was clearly making an effort to be friendly. Dr. McManus stopped in front of one of the doors and an orderly that had joined them from the nurses' station jingled his keys as he unlocked it, then stepped back. Taking a deep breath, Burt entered the room with Carole a step behind.

There was a split second during which Carole thought they'd been brought to an empty room by mistake – the cushioned walls and floor were vacant aside from a small pile of blankets and a pillow tossed unceremoniously in the corner. Then she followed Burt's gaze to her right, and the breath left her lungs in a heartbeat.

"I'll be back to check on you in about an hour," said McManus. Neither of them heard him, and he disappeared back down the corridor as the orderly shut the door.

Kurt was pressed into the corner, his knees pulled tight against his chest and his ankles crossed. His hands were laid flat against the walls on both sides, his fingertips gripping the padding as if he were afraid he was about to be sucked through the wall and never heard from again. He was wearing sweatpants and Robbie's favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt, though it was clear that Robbie was not there, and from the faint odor Carole could tell he hadn't showered in at least a day. His eyes were wide and as Burt knelt in front of him, he let out a barely-audible whimper and tried to pull back even further. His toes curled against the floor.

"Kurt?" Burt said gently. "I'm here, if you can hear me."

"Burt," Carole whispered. "I think it's Zack."

"I know."

Burt sat back, leaning against the wall as close to Kurt as he could get without making Kurt recoil. Kurt wrapped his arms around his knees, and Carole flinched when she saw that his arms were covered in faint bite marks.

"Zack," she called softly. "Zack, can you hear me?"

"Go away!" Kurt cried, shuddering as his eyes squeezed shut.

"What's going on, sweetheart?"

Kurt's body convulsed. "Row, row, row your boat," he sang, his voice breathy and quivering. "Gently down the stream…"

Carole looked in desperation to Burt, who seemed as lost as she felt.

"He… he used to sing that," Burt said, his eyes almost as wide as Kurt's. "When he was little, I'd find him hiding under the bed sometimes, singing that."

"Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily…"

"I've never seen Zack act like this."

"Life is but a dream. Row, row, row…"

"Zack?" Burt said, reaching out towards Kurt to touch his shoulder. Kurt yelped and smacked his hand away in a panic. "I'm not going to hurt you," Burt promised, his voice cracking.

"Gently down the stream!"

Carole swiped at her eyes, trying not to notice how Kurt was pulling all his limbs inward, trying to make himself as small as possible.

"Merrily, merri—" His hoarse voice was choked off as his ribs compressed and forced out a sob he'd been trying to hold in. Carole bit her lip as he struggled to breathe, clenching her fists to fight the impulse to just lean over and hold him in the hopes of being some sort of anchor. Burt seemed to be having a hard time keeping distant as well, but they both knew it was a bad idea to cross whatever lines Kurt laid down when the alters were awake.

Burt lost that battle the moment Kurt lifted his arm and clamped his teeth around his wrist.

"Zack, stop—" Burt was trying to sound calm and firm, but he only managed to sound desperate. He reached forward and was clearly about to pull Kurt's arm away from his mouth, but as his fingers made contact with Kurt's skin, Kurt screamed and lashed out, blindly landing a solid-ish blow to Burt's jaw before scrabbling out of the corner and shooting to the other side of the room.

Burt quickly pulled himself back to his feet; Carole did the same. Kurt had pressed himself flat against the wall furthest from them.

"Zack, we— we won't hurt you," Carole pleaded, her lip trembling.

"Zack's not really inclined to trust anyone right now," Kurt said, and Carole immediately took a step back. Kurt was now watching them with glinting eyes and a half-formed smirk, and it sent a chill from Carole's spine down into her stomach.

She thought she'd hated Truman before. Now that he was staring her in the face and smiling and she knew exactly what he was… It felt as thought termites were gnawing away at her breastbone and she wanted nothing more than to kill him, but it was still Kurt's body and Truman wasn't the only one there, so Carole tried to focus on the aspects of Kurt that she could see.

She didn't see many.

"Truman, why was Zack acting like that?" Burt demanded. Carole could hear the rage trembling underneath his voice, like an earthquake working its way up to the planet's surface "Did you do something?"

"Me? To Zack? 'Course not."

Burt's fists clenched by his sides. "How the hell do you expect us to believe that?"

Kurt shrugged, crossing his arms as he leaned casually back against the padded wall. "I don't care if you do or don't. That's up to you."

"Where's Kurt?"

"Not here."

"I know that," Burt snapped. "Where is he?"

Kurt snorted. "No, he's not here," he grinned.

Carole froze, and out of the corner of her eye she saw the rage melt away from Burt's face.

"What did you just say?" Burt breathed.

Kurt's smile stretched. "I said…" he spoke slowly, mockingly, as if he thought Burt too stupid to understand even simple words. "He's not here."

"What did you do?"

The smile grew bigger as Kurt's teeth bared.

"What did you do?!" Burt's voice cracked and he jerked forward a step, looking as if he were about to grab Kurt and shake him until he coughed up the answers Burt was looking for.

Kurt chuckled as he saw the movement. "Go on," he said. "Hit me."

Burt blinked. Carole swallowed, her throat constricted around what felt like a billiard ball stuck in her windpipe.

"I know you want to," said Kurt, his tone light with amusement. "Go on. You'd just love to hurt me. Especially after what I did to Kurt."

He licked his upper lip, slowly and deliberately, and Carole desperately fought the urge to vomit.

"What?" was the only thing Burt could manage.

Kurt laughed, throwing his head back against the wall as if he couldn't believe just how dense his own parents were.

"What did you do?" Burt choked out.

"I fucked him," Kurt stated simply, meeting Burt's gaze again with a startling nonchalance. "I fucked his cute little asshole 'til it bled, and then some. Your little boy is very talented with his tongue. Least, he was once I taught him how to use it. He was quite the natural." Kurt swiped his tongue over his lip again, flashing Burt a wink.

Carole grabbed Burt's arm just as he lurched toward Kurt with clenched fists, swinging around to put herself between her husband and her stepson. "Burt…" she warned, a hand on his chest.

Burt didn't seem to hear her, staring in alarm as Kurt stepped away from the wall, closing the gap and leaning forward so that his face was barely six inches from Burt's.

"I toyed with your little boy for days and you can't even hit me," he hissed, almost disgusted. "That's pathetic."

"Where's Kurt?" Burt snarled. "I want to speak to Kurt."

"I already fucking told you; he's not here."

"Bring him back!"

"You don't get it," Kurt said, and he leaned slightly closer to speak in a low undertone. "I killed him."