Kurt was so wrapped up in his own thoughts for the entire duration of the next day that Mercedes found herself repeating questions more than once before he would actually answer, and she said as much, pressing him for details about his conflict with Blaine. Whenever she asked about it, though, Kurt would brush her off and assure her that it was only a minor problem and that it would be solved by the end of the week – hardly worthy of gossip or advice.

"Well, you're acting like it's a lot more serious than some little spat over who should've won Project Runway," she'd retorted at lunch, adding that Blaine seemed to agree with her, since the two boys hadn't exchanged so much as a look all day.

Before they walked into Glee during the afternoon, Mercedes grabbed Kurt's arm and dragged him off to the side. "Okay, you and Blaine are actually starting to scare me, Kurt, so you'd better have an explanation for whatever's going on right now," she demanded. "If you were really fighting about something insignificant, then you would have told me what it was! And what the hell happened to Blaine's face?"

"Mercedes." Kurt spoke very slowly, his voice low and his eyes hard. "This is between me and Blaine."

"I'm just trying to help you, Kurt."

He exhaled heavily, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "I know," he said, his tone softening. "I'm sorry, Cedes. But it's really not something you can help with."

"Then just tell me that instead of trying to feed me some lie about it being minor," Mercedes insisted. "You know me, Kurt – even if I want to know what's going on with you, you know perfectly well that I'm going to respect it if you say you don't want to tell me about it. Why is this any different?"

Kurt sighed again, giving her a sad smile. "It isn't," he said. He draped an arm around her shoulders as they walked together into the choir room.

Rehearsal passed uneventfully (aside from Finn nearly smacking Brittany in the face when she was teaching him to twirl with his arms in), but Kurt and Blaine still managed to avoid each other throughout the entire meeting, purposefully choosing to sit on opposite ends of the risers. Mercedes was anything but oblivious to this, constantly keeping one eye on Kurt and the other on Blaine, but knowing she could do nothing, she silently promised to make sure she was there if and when they cracked under the pressure.

Finally, towards the end of the ninety-minute rehearsal, Kurt raised his hand and asked to have the floor. Mr. Schue nodded and sat next to Puck in the front row, watching as Kurt dragged a single stool to the middle of the room and told the band musicians that he wouldn't need them.

Kurt sat nervously in front of everyone, and rather than make any kind of introduction or give any context for the performance, he began to sing a capella, leaving the rest of the club to wonder what prompted it.

"I dreamed I was missing," he started, and Mr. Schue nodded approvingly at Kurt's use of his lower range. "You were so scared, but no one would listen, 'cause no one else cared…"

Mercedes, however, was paying absolutely zero attention to the musical technicalities that Kurt was employing and instead was trying to deduce any sort of clue from Kurt and Blaine's body language as to what was happening between the two. While Kurt's eyes were trained on the linoleum tiles at the foot of the risers, Blaine was watching Kurt with an unnerving wariness, like he was afraid of his own boyfriend. But that just didn't make sense – Blaine was one of the bravest kids in the club; hell, he was one of the bravest kids she knew.

"When my time comes, forget the wrong that I've done. Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed… And don't resent me when you're feeling empty, keep me in your memory – leave out all the rest… Leave out all the rest…"

As the words of the chorus sunk in, Mercedes felt a rock settle into the pit of her stomach. This song was about dying. And… oh, God. Suddenly, it did make sense that Blaine was looking at Kurt with fear.

"Don't be afraid," Kurt sang, and it sounded like he was speaking directly to Blaine. "I've taken my beating – I've shed, but I'm me. I'm strong on the surface, not all the way through… I've never been perfect, but neither have you."

The rest of the club seemed to finally be picking up on the fact that the song really seemed to mean something important; it was nowhere near an everyday plea for a solo at their next competition.

"Forgetting all the hurt inside I've learned to hide so well," Kurt continued, finally managing to look up at Blaine, who immediately shifted his gaze to his lap. "Pretending someone else can come and save me from myself – I can't be who you are…"

Mercedes watched Blaine as his body grew more and more stiff, his face pale. She hoped to God Himself that the problem between the two was not what she thought it was. If Kurt was even considering… She was so going to beat him upside the head.

"When my time comes, forget the wrong that I've done – help me leave behind some reasons to be missed… And don't resent me when you're feeling angry, keep me in your memory. Leave out all the rest… Leave out all the rest…

"Forgetting all the hurt inside you've learned to hide so well… Pretending someone else can come and save you from myself – I can't be who you are… I can't be who you are…"

Mercedes didn't miss the subtle word change in the last chorus, but any questions she had for Kurt would have to wait until later, as the rest of the club (except for Blaine) was applauding and drowning out anything that was unspoken.

Right after Glee let out, Mercedes watched as Blaine quickly strode toward the parking lot, then she followed Kurt down the hall to the bathroom, making sure that he was not aware of her presence. In the boys' room, she leaned against the sinks and waited for him to finish his business in the stall. When he emerged, he stopped short for a moment, caught off-guard, but then he walked forward and rolled up his sleeves to wash his hands.

"Is this a surprise interrogation?" he asked calmly, running his hands under the faucet.

Mercedes, however, felt her heart plummet as she spotted the long, thin, scabbed-over slice on Kurt's forearm, and she suddenly realized that there were a handful more faint white lines beneath it, criss-crossing over his skin and barely contrasted enough to notice. Her eyes welled up. "Oh my God, Kurt—"

He frowned at her, genuinely confused. "What—?" He was cut off as Mercedes engulfed him in a sudden hug.

"Kurt, we all love you," she said firmly, wiping her eyes as she stepped away a few moments later. "You don't have to feel like this."

He stared at her. "Mercedes… what are you talking about?"

"Your… your arm—"

He glanced down at it. "Yeah, so…?" Then, comprehension cleared his face. "Oh, honey. I didn't do this – I just cut myself on an engine the other day when I was helping out in the shop." He smiled, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze. "Don't worry about me, okay? I'll be terrorizing you for a long time. I promise."

Despite her almost-crushing relief from Kurt's assurances, Mercedes was about to pressure him further about the older scars, but then his sleeves were rolled down so quickly that she wasn't sure she hadn't imagined them.

Will Schuester was not a total idiot. He was oblivious a lot of the time, yes, but he did pick up on some things, and he had noticed a lot of tension between Kurt and Blaine during the club meeting that afternoon. So, after a long evening of watching a romantic movie while cuddling on the couch with Emma, he brought his laptop with him to bed as she went to sleep beside him, and pulled up the home page of the McKinley gossip blog.

He was greeted with the site banner that read THE GRAPEVINE – We Stalk McKinley High's Buzz-Worthiest So You Don't Have To!in horribly colorful WordArt juxtaposed over a large Star of David. He really hated to admit that he checked the blog fairly regularly, but it had proven to be a useful gauge of what was going on with his students, even though sometimes the publications were falsified and/or trivial. Generally, if one of his closer students (namely those in the Glee club) were in trouble, he wanted to know about it, and Jacob Ben Israel's horrible blog was the most efficient reference (as disgusting as it might be to think about).

He scrolled through the most recent publications, already half-asleep since it was past midnight, not quite paying attention to most of the articles. Only a few seconds later, though, he spotted a title that caught his eye.

TROUBLE OVER THE RAINBOW!

Feeling vexed that Jacob Ben Israel and his cronies seemed to take such pride and joy in eviscerating what was left of the Glee kids' privacy, Will clicked on the link and watched as a new page loaded. This time, the title was accompanied by a subheader:

—McKinley's Residential Gays Are Already Headed For The Asylum—

He frowned. Even for Jacob Ben Israel, that title seemed to be taking it a little too far. He'd have to have a word with Jacob the next day (not that the kid would listen, but maybe he'd go to Figgins as well).

Making a mental note of his plan, Will scrolled down and began to read.

"It seems that there's trouble in paradise for McKinley's iconic gay couple, senior Kurt 'Flaming Rainbow' Hummel and junior Blaine 'Hobbit McFrodo-Feet' Anderson. Just forty-eight hours ago, they were overheard during a very heated argument, and one source was lucky enough to capture it. Now, we present it to you, loyal readers…"

Will's heart sank. He really needed to have that talk with Jacob. This was going too far. As he read on, though, the article made less and less sense. Why was Jacob talking about straitjackets and padded cells? There was a prickling feeling at the back of his neck – something was wrong, though he wasn't able to figure out what until he noticed that at the top of the page, there was an attached audio clip. Knowing that he was going to hate whatever the clip contained, he clicked the little button and waited for it to load.

He recognized Kurt's voice first, snappishly exclaiming, "I can't believe you're actually blaming me for my condition—"

Blaine's voice then interrupted with, "First of all, I don't blame you. What happened to you was awful, and I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

Blaine kept talking, Will's gut twisting tighter and tighter. It was sounding more serious with every word Blaine spoke.

"Blaine, I am not my disease, okay?!"

Disease? God, if Kurt was dying, Will was honestly not sure how the club would handle that blow. Hell, he wasn't sure how hewould handle it. That particular worry, though, was squashed by Blaine's next shout.

"It's multiple personality disorder! It's exactly who you are! That's what it means!"

The audio clip ended, and Will sat there staring at the screen, stunned. Images flashed through his head, of Blaine avoiding Kurt during rehearsal, of the mysterious injury to Blaine's face, of Finn constantly glancing over at his stepbrother like he was worried the smaller boy would suddenly fall apart. Everything abruptly made sense, and it was an awful feeling.