Lunchtime on Saturday was always a little crowded at Breadstix, but with some of Cooper's charm and flirtatious winking, the Anderson brothers managed to secure their favorite table in the middle of the restaurant. Cooper was currently home for a two-week vacation after Free Credit Ratings Today had terminated his contract and "gone in a different direction," and Blaine could easily tell that Cooper's pride was sorely bruised. But his pride would be even more bruised they were to talk about it in any depth, so they sat at their table discussing anything except the commercial.

"Anyways, I'm going to take some time off from acting," Cooper was saying through a mouthful of Caesar salad. "I'll find some kind of grunt job in L.A. with crappy pay for a few months. Should be a good experience for future roles."

Blaine chuckled. "Never pictured you doing grunt work before," he teased.

"Aw, come on," Cooper protested. "Construction workers are sexy."

"If you say so," Blaine laughed, putting down his fork as his phone vibrated in his pocket. He nearly choked when a text from Santana illuminated the screen.

since when is kurt back in town?

Cooper noticed Blaine's sudden freeze. "What's the matter?" he asked with a frown.

Blaine didn't respond, sending a reply to Santana with the only thing that came to mind.

What?

britt and i just saw him walking out of Brackett's. did u know he was back?

No.

"Bee, what's wrong?" Cooper pressed.

"Kurt's back," Blaine said softly, still staring at his phone as if he weren't entirely sure that his text exchange with Santana hadn't been a hallucination.

Cooper's eyebrows climbed to his hairline. "He's out of the hospital?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Does that mean he's all better?"

"I don't know."

"Well, they wouldn't let him out if he wasn't better, would they?"

"I don't know."

Cooper raised his hands placatingly. "Okay, sorry."

Blaine let out a heavy breath and shoved his phone back into his pocket, chewing on the insides of his cheeks.

"So what are you going to do?" Cooper prodded, his Caesar salad forgotten.

Blaine gave his brother a look. "Coop, if he wanted to see me, he would've let me know he was back. I wrote him a letter back in the beginning of March and I haven't heard anything. I don't think he even read it."

"Maybe he just didn't know how to respond." Blaine opened his mouth to argue but Cooper cut him off. "I'm just saying, this isn't exactly a normal situation. Maybe he wants to see you but doesn't know how to ask."

Blaine frowned, almost irritated. "Don't you think we should at least know if he's okay before we start planning a date?"

Cooper shrugged, swallowing a swig from his diet Coke and munching on the ice. "Sure. Call him up and ask him."

Blaine shook his head. "It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"Coop, you've never met him," Blaine insisted. "You've never seen him switch. Do you have any idea how scary the contrast is?"

"Bee, I'm just going by what I see here, okay?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You were so happy when you were with him, Blaine," Cooper said, catching Blaine completely by surprise. "I could hear it over the phone. You transferred to a school in a district where you don't even live just to be with him, and on top of that, it's been almost five months and you're still hung up on him."

Blaine stared at him.

Cooper only gave another shrug. "Maybe it's worth one phone call."

"Mom and Dad would be pissed."

"You bet they would," Cooper nodded. "But screw them. Do what you want, once you figure it out."

Even though it was barely noon, Burt was already exhausted. He'd spent the week in Washington and then flown back to bring Kurt home from the hospital on Friday afternoon. He hadn't slept a wink last night, constantly listening for any sounds from down the hall that would indicate Kurt had disappeared again. But it had remained silent all night (save for Carole telling Burt to go to sleep on more than one occasion) and in the morning he'd stuck his head into Kurt's room to see him in what appeared to be a peaceful sleep. Burt had had to leave for Hiram's before Kurt woke up, however, so needless to say he was looking forward to seeing Kurt once he and Finn returned from the store.

"Burt, you're fidgeting," Carole observed from her seat at the kitchen table, where she was sorting through a substantially sized stack of bills.

"Aren't they taking a little long?" Burt asked, glancing out the window toward the driveway. He turned his coffee mug in his hands.

"No, they're not," she replied patiently without looking up. "It's Saturday; everyone's doing their shopping now. The lines are bound to be long."

Burt huffed, sipping his coffee and trying to force himself not to worry.

After a minute of silence, Carole glanced up from the bills. "Burt, we're going to have to talk to him about the trial today."

Burt nodded, his mouth pressed into a thin line. "Yeah, I know." He didn't want to think about how Kurt might react, nor did he want to think of the stress Kurt would undoubtedly shoulder as the trial headed forward.

"We also have to tell him about the car."

"Crap." Burt mentally kicked himself for having forgotten. He sighed. "Well, I guess since it's not in the driveway Kurt's either figured out that we sold it or he thinks I took it in for an oil change."

"He'll understand."

"I know that. I just wish we could give him something other than bad news for once."

The rumbling of an engine sounded from outside as Finn's truck pulled into the driveway, parking next to Carole's minivan. Burt leaned to watch out the window, immediately frowning when Kurt jumped out of the car and strode stiffly up to the house without helping Finn with the grocery bags (there were only two and Finn didn't need help, but it was still odd). The screen door banged shut loudly behind Kurt as he entered the kitchen.

"Kurt, are you—?"

Kurt stomped straight past, disappearing into the hallway. A moment later his footsteps climbed the stairs. Burt and Carole exchanged a glance.

Finn shouldered the front door open and dropped the bags onto the counter island, greeted immediately with Burt asking "What happened?"

Finn paused. "I'm not really sure…"

"Was that Robbie?"

"No. He didn't switch. He just kind of… I don't know. He started acting upset when we were in the store."

"Why?" Burt pressed. "What'd you say?"

Finn almost flinched. "Nothing! He just snapped at me out of nowhere." He hesitated for a second, then added, "I-I think the alters might've been talking to him."

Burt sighed. "But he didn't switch?"

"No."

"Okay," Burt said, setting his mug on the counter. "I'll go talk to him."

Upstairs, Burt knocked on Kurt's door. "Kurt, you okay?"

There was a second of silence in which Burt wasn't certain he'd receive a response, but then Kurt spoke. "I don't really want to talk right now, Dad."

Burt pushed the door open. "Well, too bad," he said gently. Kurt was sitting on his bed with his back propped up against the headboard. Burt walked over and sank onto the edge of the mattress next to him, and Kurt drew his knees up. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Kurt said flatly, not looking Burt in the eye.

Burt didn't say anything, studying Kurt's face. It was hard to see how much older Kurt looked after the past four or five months (Burt wasn't entirely sure of how long it had been since things had spiralled out of control).

Kurt shifted, uncomfortable with his father staring at him. "What?"

Burt tried to phrase what he wanted to say as mildly as he could. "Kurt, you don't have a right to leave me out of this," he said. "It goes both ways, remember?"

Kurt swallowed, still avoiding Burt's gaze.

"I know you're having a hard time adjusting to being back, but I can't help you if you don't talk to me. So, I'll ask again – what's going on? What happened at the store?"

Kurt's mouth tightened, his fingernails clicking against each other in his lap. It was unclear whether Kurt actually wanted to speak or not, but either way he was having a hard time doing so.

"Were the alters talking to you?" Burt prompted.

"Yes," Kurt replied softly.

"Who was it?"

Another swallow. "Truman," Kurt admitted. "I hear him the most."

Burt tried not to think about what that could mean, instead asking "What does he say?"

Kurt shrugged. "Nothing, really. He just teases me. It's more annoying than anything else."

Burt couldn't tell if that was entirely true or if Kurt was playing it down, but at least he now had an idea of what was bothering Kurt. He sighed, steeling his nerves. "Well, I know you don't want to talk, but we need to have a little family meeting."

Kurt frowned. "What for?"

"There are a few things we need to discuss, and all four of us should be there for it."

Finn had never liked the sound of "family meeting" – the last time he'd heard it was when his mother finally told him his father was a druggie and not a war hero, and the time before that had been Burt explaining for the first time what exactly was wrong with Kurt. "Family meeting" never ended well.

So, Finn was tense. He sat in the armchair in the living room while Kurt sat with Carole on the couch, and Burt stood by the TV (Finn had a feeling Burt was only standing because he was too nervous about the upcoming conversation to sit still). Carole was holding Kurt's hand and it was obvious that Kurt could tell there was something potentially bad coming up.

When Burt spoke, he shoved his hands into his pockets, possibly to keep them from anxiously clenching. "Kurt, you probably saw that your car's not in the drive…" he started.

Kurt's eyebrows immediately snapped together. "It's not in the shop?"

Burt winced. "We had to sell it, Kurt. I'm sorry, but it was a good car and it was going to waste," he said. Finn watched Kurt, trying to determine just how much this would upset him. "We need all the money help we can get, and we couldn't even afford that car when we bought it."

Kurt didn't say anything, his facial expression tightening only slightly.

"Kurt, the last time anyone used that car was in January," Burt continued, still trying to make his point. "And it was Truman stealing it to go God knows where."

Kurt flinched at that, but said, "I get it."

"You're sure?"

"Dad, I understand," Kurt insisted, sounding frostier than was probably necessary.

"Okay." Burt coughed and shifted his weight to his other leg, then sat down in the other armchair. "The other thing we need to talk about is… a little more sensitive."

Carole tense visibly next to Kurt, her fingers squeezing around his hand, and he glanced at her in confusion. Finn braced himself, knowing exactly what was coming and wishing he were anywhere else. "What do you mean?" asked Kurt.

Burt let out a huff of breath as if it was burning his lungs. "They, uh, found him. The man who—"

"They found Franklin?" Kurt started, catching all three of them by surprise.

"He was arrested in March," Burt said, his voice shaking almost imperceptibly. Finn didn't know if it was from fear of how Kurt might react or from relief that he'd been saved from having to say the man who raped you when I wasn't here I'm so sorry I love you but this is my fault I won't blame you if you hate me because I hate me too.

"The trial's coming up in a couple of weeks."

Kurt's face contorted, more from confusion than anything else. "H-how— How did they find him?" he wanted to know. "What happened?"

Carole stepped in, her fingers squeezing Kurt's hand again. "Zack was able to tell us his real name, and then we found his address in your mother's things."

At that, Kurt's head whipped around to stare at Carole, his eyes wide. "What does Mom have to do with it?"

"Oh, Jesus, you—" Burt ran a hand over his mouth, choking on his words. Finn swallowed. "You weren't here when—" Burt's jaw clenched for a moment before he was able to force himself to finish. "He was a college friend of your mom's who babysat you for a couple weeks when you were little. I'm so sorry, Kurt—"

Kurt eyes were glassy, his voice tighter than a piano chord. "Who is he?"

"Kurt…" Burt swallowed. "His name is John Truman."

Kurt didn't move.

"Honey, if you need to switch, that's okay," Carole cut in quickly. "You don't need to fight that right now."

Finn tensed even further as Kurt's eyes slid shut, his shoulders curling forward, and he waited for Eleanor to scream or Zack to cry. He knew Burt and Carole were expecting the same, but when Kurt spoke it was miraculously his own voice.

"I'm going to be sick," he said, barely audible.

Burt immediately got up and pulled Kurt to his feet, looping an arm around Kurt's shoulders and walking him quickly down the hall to the bathroom. Carole lurched to her feet and followed them, casting an almost terrified look over her shoulder at Finn.

Finn stayed where he was, his hands tightly clasped in his lap to keep his fingernails from cutting into his palms. He heard Kurt retch loudly into the toilet, already fighting to breathe.

"It's okay, kiddo, I've got you," said Burt, loud enough for Finn to hear from the living room. "You're okay. You're okay. You're okay."

Kurt had begun to sob, and Finn flinched as the tone of Kurt's cries abruptly changed, like a needle skipping across the surface of a spinning record. Finn swallowed, struggling to keep his stomach steady. He wasn't used to this anymore.

A scream ripped through the air from down the hall, quickly followed by another, and Finn felt as if he was trying to breathe through water. His gut was twisting and coiling and clenching and he didn't know what to do with the rock that was stopping his lungs from getting oxygen.

"Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream—"

"It's okay, Zack, you're— Ah!"

Burt's voice was abruptly cut off by the sound of Kurt's fists colliding with his father's chest.

"Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily—"

Finn's mind seemed to switch to autopilot then, and he didn't realize he was walking away until he'd grabbed his car keys off the kitchen counter. He didn't stop, though, and allowed himself to shove his way out the front door, his lungs stretching as he rushed to his truck. With Kurt's screams echoing in his ears, Finn pulled the truck out of the driveway and sped away from the house.

He didn't pay that much attention to where he was going, driving in a haze. It was at least fifteen minutes before he forced himself to pull over and stop the truck on the curb (not noticing that he'd jumped onto the route heading southward out of town). He gripped the steering wheel tightly, resting his forehead on his fingers and willing his heart to stop thudding in such a horrible rhythm.

He'd forgotten what this felt like, when home went from home to Hell in the space of a few seconds.

"Hey, this is Finn's phone – leave a message at the beep."

Blaine sighed and ended the call, dropping his phone onto the kitchen counter. Cooper raised his eyebrows expectantly, swallowing the last of the beer he'd pulled out of the bottom of their fridge.

"Well?"

"He didn't pick up."

"So…"

"Kurt's still sick."

Cooper made a face. "You got that from a voicemail?"

Blaine huffed, already not wanting to think about this. He'd gotten used to picturing Kurt as something distant; he wasn't sure if he wanted that to change back. "If Kurt was okay or if he wanted to see me, then Finn wouldn't have ignored my call."

"You have no idea if he ignored you," Cooper countered. "Maybe he just left his phone somewhere."

"I don't know why you're still on this."

"Because you're miserable, Bee!"

Blaine's frown deepened. "I'm worried about Kurt, but I'm not miserable, Cooper."

"Well, that's complete bullcrap."

Blaine huffed.

"Maybe Finn didn't answer because he's at the dentist or something," Cooper insisted. "You don't know."

"Neither do you!"

"Exactly!" Blaine's jaw clacked shut. "Look, Bee, nobody's saying you have to date him, or even see him. Just stop making all these assumptions when you have no idea what's going on."

"What do you expect me to do?!" Blaine demanded in exasperation.

Cooper set his empty beer bottle solidly on the counter behind him with a loud thunk. "You're being a coward, Blaine."

"Great," Blaine said dryly, almost rolling his eyes. "You're making me feel really confident about this, Coop – that's just great."

Cooper only shrugged in response. "I'm just trying to help, Bee. If you want to keep running away, that's up to you."

Blaine blinked, and Cooper cast him a knowing look before striding out of the room and saying something about calling his agent. Staying where he stood, Blaine swallowed and tried to stop his mind from picking up speed.

I ran, Kurt.

He felt bile rise in his throat as his stomach practiced gymnastics in his gut.

I ran, and it's something I regret.

You just didn't bother to answer your damn phone.

You're kind of an asshole.

Forcing himself to take deep breaths, Blaine pushed the echoes out of his head.

Finn wasn't really sure how long he'd stayed out before finally pulling his truck back onto the road and driving home, but as he walked into the kitchen, he was immediately confronted with a hollow silence where there'd been only shouting before. He didn't know if that was a good sign, but it didn't feel like it.

"Finn, where the hell were you?"

Finn jumped as Burt walked in from the living room, probably having heard the front door shut. "I… went out to get some air."

"We called you three times."

"I-I forgot my phone here," Finn stammered, knowing he didn't really have an excuse for running out. "Sorry."

Burt sighed, planting his hands on his hips. "Look, Finn, I know this is hard to deal with, for you especially. But when Kurt has a switch like that, I need to know that I can count on you being here. You're his brother; you have to help keep him safe."

Finn nodding, avoiding Burt's eye. "…Is he okay?" he asked quietly, tugging nervously on his sleeve.

"I don't know," Burt answered, and Finn felt a stab of guilt at the grief lacing Burt's words. "Zack's still out. We had to put him in his room, but he's been quiet for about twenty minutes now."

"I'll go check on him," Finn said, leaving his keys on the counter.

"Be careful."

Upstairs, it was more than silent. It felt to Finn as if any sounds that might have belonged there had been sucked into the walls and floor and ceiling, and he was breathing in a vacuum. Kurt's door was tied shut.

Pulling as much air into his lungs as he could, Finn pressed his ear to the door, listening for any signs of movement. "Zack?" he called softly. "You all right?"

No response.

"Zack, I'm coming in."

His heart thudding in his ears and chest and fingertips, Finn pulled the knot out of the rope looped around the doorknob and slowly, hesitantly pushed the door open. Kurt was sitting in the corner of the room below the window, pressed against the wall and curled about as small as he could possibly make himself. He'd ducked his head so that his face was hidden behind his arms, and his arms were covered in reddened bite marks. Letting out a long breath, Finn shut the door behind himself and walked over to Kurt, sinking onto the floor as close as he dared to get. At the sound of Finn sitting down, Kurt flinched and curled more tightly into the corner.

Finn watched his brother for a moment, unsure of what he could possibly do to bring Kurt back or, at the very least, pull Zack out of this terrifyingly catatonic state. Kurt's eyes stared back at Finn warily from somewhere behind the cracked shell of Zack's paralysis.

For a split second, it almost seemed like Kurt recognized him.

Tentatively, Finn extended his hand, reaching out towards Kurt and carefully gauging his reaction. Kurt stiffened, drawing back.

"No, no—" he muttered, turning his head away.

"It's okay," Finn said quietly, not reaching any further but not drawing his hand back either. He kept his hand stretched to the halfway mark between them, waiting for Kurt to adjust to the change in the space around him. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Nearly five minutes passed before Kurt's breathing evened out again, his shoulders shaking only slightly. Finn reached further, more gradually this time.

Kurt immediately shrank back. "No, no, don't—"

Finn's fingers landed on the back of Kurt's hand, not grabbing or even gently holding – just touching enough for Kurt to feel. Kurt froze, staring at their hands.

"Is that okay?" Finn asked, unable to tell if Kurt's response was out of fear or incomprehension.

Kurt breathing quickened again, his chest beginning to heave. A few tears escaped down his cheeks.

"All right, I'm sorry," Finn said, lifting his hand away.

He was caught completely off-guard when Kurt's arm whipped out, grabbing Finn's hand before he could pull it back. Kurt's fingers tightened more than Finn had previously thought possible for Zack, making it clear that he was not letting go.

"Zack?" Finn said, not sure what he was asking.

Keeping his grip on Finn's hand, Kurt wrapped his other arm around his legs, pressing his forehead against his knees as his shoulders shook and he began to sob. His knuckles went white around Finn's.

An hour later, Burt found both boys in the same position, their hands still tightly grasping each other's and Kurt asleep against the wall.