Katy Perry blasting in his ears as he worked on an essay for US History, Blaine almost didn't hear his phone ring on the desk beside him. Yanking the buds out of his ears, he quickly grabbed it and answered on the fourth ring.

"Hey, Rachel."

"Blaine, you have to talk to Kurt."

Blaine stopped short. He'd been expecting something along the lines of Rachel proposing an extra rehearsal before Nationals or requesting his help with a duet, or maybe even asking if he wanted to go see a movie and just hang out.

"What for?" he said.

"I don't know what's going on, but Kurt's kind of… losing it," she replied.

As if that was anything new.

"He needs to talk to someone."

Blaine swallowed, leaning back in his desk chair. "Did something happen?"

"We went to the Lima Bean and Rick Nelson was there—"

He let out an exasperated exhale. "Crap."

"He started harassing Puck and then Kurt stepped in and he…" Rachel trailed off, and Blaine couldn't tell if she didn't want to say what happened or if she just didn't know how.

"He switched?"

"No," Rachel said. "He pretended to."

Blaine frowned. Why had his heart just skipped? "…What do you mean?"

"I guess he was trying to scare Rick off or something," Rachel continued. "I mean, it worked, but the others were pissed. Santanahit him."

Blaine's eyes widened. "She hit Kurt?"

"Yeah, she slapped him. I… kind of wanted to do the same," she confessed.

Blaine sighed, running a hand down his face in exhaustion. He was sick of dealing with this. "Well, what do you want me to do?" he asked. "It's not like I'm his therapist."

"No, but you know him better than most of us," Rachel insisted. "Probably better than me."

"Rachel, the last time I tried to talk to him, he switched and started screaming his head off," Blaine said, his heart skipping again from the memory.

"He looks like he's more stable now, Blaine," Rachel pressed, her tone almost consoling. "If he didn't switch when Santana hit him, I don't think he'd switch if you just talked to him."

"He needs a doctor."

"He has a doctor."

Blaine's jaw clenched. It really wasn't that he didn't want to see Kurt – he did – and he didn't think he was afraid of Kurt switching. Maybe it was just that he was afraid of what Kurt would say if he wasn't in control. Because, as much as Blaine wanted to see the alters as separate people, he couldn't shake the feeling that Kurt hated him, whether or not Kurt knew he did.

"Just think about it," Rachel pleaded from the other end of the line.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay," he said. "I will."

"You'll talk to him?"

"I'll think about it."

Carole watched Finn's truck pull back into the driveway from the kitchen window and immediately knew something was wrong. She could see through the windshield that they were arguing, though it seemed that Finn was doing most of the yelling. Kurt finally spat something at Finn and climbed out of the cab, slamming the door behind him and marching up to the house. Carole's heart sank.

The kitchen door closed behind Kurt only to have Finn push it open a second later, still fuming from their fight. Kurt wasn't looking at Finn, instead focusing on filling a glass of water from the tap. He was ignoring Carole too.

"Finn?" Carole asked. "What happened?"

"Why don't you ask Kurt?" Finn snapped.

"You're overreacting," Kurt said flatly over his shoulder.

"No, I'm not!"

Burt walked in, having heard the boys come home from his study upstairs. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Kurt protested.

"Stop it, Kurt!" Finn demanded.

"I'm not doing anything!"

"Both of you, calm down and explain what the hell's going on!" Burt ordered, his voice rising. Carole flinched slightly.

Kurt sighed in annoyance, placing the glass of water on the counter and then leaning back with his arms crossed. "We hung out at the Lima Bean and got into a fight with a Neanderthal from McKinley," he said calmly, albeit more than a little irritated. "I broke it up."

"By faking a switch!" Finn barged in.

Burt's eyes widened, his attention whipping back to Kurt. "You what?!"

"It's not a big deal!" Kurt swore.

"Yes, it is!"

"Finn, quiet down for a second, okay?" Burt cut in tightly. Carole drew a deep breath, trying not to let herself interrupt. Three voices were more than enough.

Finn huffed, but fell silent.

Burt turned back to his son. "Kurt, what happened?" he asked again, more gently this time.

"I told you," said Kurt. "There was a guy from McKinley who was bothering us. I made him stop."

"By pretending to be one of the alters?"

Kurt's mouth tightened. "Yes."

"What the hell made you do that?" Burt asked, his brows furrowing in distress. Carole thought he looked scared more than anything else.

Kurt narrowed his eyes, drawing himself up slightly. "Believe it or not, Dad, nothing 'made' me do anything. I'm not a puppet."

Carole swallowed, feeling the tug of the tension growing between Kurt and the rest of the people in the room. She coughed lightly. "Finn," she said softly. "Come on, let's let Burt and Kurt talk." She nodded pointedly toward the living room, and Finn reluctantly followed her.

There was an uncomfortably strange static in the air at the playground as Eleanor watched the sky above, her arms crossed over her chest as the breeze swirled dead leaves around her feet. There were several dark clouds growing on the horizon, a low rumble of thunder reverberating through the atmosphere.

"What do you think's happening up there?" Robbie said from beside her.

"Probably nothing big. We haven't been switching that much lately."

Robbie frowned. "How do you know? You're stuck down here, same as the rest of us."

"Shut up."

The air around them vibrated again with thunder.

"Why do you even care?" Robbie asked. "I thought you hated Kurt."

"I hate everyone."

Carole and Finn sat in an awkwardly rigid silence in the living room, not quite able to hear the discussion taking place in the kitchen. Carole had tried to get Finn to explain what exactly had happened at the Lima Bean, but Finn seemed too angry to talk in detail.

They both jumped as Burt's raised voice suddenly shouted from the kitchen, "It's not about you protecting your friends, Kurt! It's about us being able to trust you!"

Finn shifted in agitation, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees. He raked his fingers through his hair, making it stick up.

"If we can't trust you, we can't help you get better, and we're left with nothing!" Burt yelled. "You need to understand—"

Kurt's voice, harsh and bitter, abruptly cut in more loudly than Burt's. "I understand plenty, Dad! You have no idea what I go through every day just to keep myself together! And guess what! I'm failing!"

"Kurt, we just want to help—"

"I KNOW!" Kurt shouted, his voice hoarse. Carole flinched, her hand covering her mouth. "It's not about what you want! It's aboutme! I am always the focus of attention in this family, and I HATE it! We're always talking about me, about when I'm going to switch, when I'm going back to the hospital, what I need, building all your schedules around babysitting me! If I leave the house, Finn's got to come with me! If I'm home, I can't be alone! I CAN'T BREATHE!"

There was an uneven sob, and then silence.

Carole realized her fingers were clenched, her nails digging into her palms, and she quickly stretched them out, her knuckles cracking loudly.

"Don't… touch me," they heard Kurt say. Burt must have reached out to pat his shoulder.

Another long silence, and then Burt sighed and spoke, almost too quietly for Carole and Finn to hear. "Kurt, you do not have a right to push us away," he said.

"YES, I DO!" Kurt screamed, his voice cracking. "IT'S MY BODY AND MY MIND AND NO MATTER HOW MANY PEOPLE I HAVE TO SHARE IT WITH, IT'S STILL MINE!"

There was a loud scrape of a chair across the floor, and then Kurt stormed into the living room, heading for the stairwell. Carole stood up, quickly circling around the sofa to stop him. She wasn't entirely sure what she was trying to accomplish, but she knew that any time Kurt walked away in the middle of a fight, it took at least a week to resolve, and she wanted to prevent as much damage as she possibly could. "Wait, Kurt—" she said.

Kurt snarled and backhanded her.

Carole yelped as his hand caught the side of her head, and Finn bolted up from the sofa. In the blink of an eye, he'd seized Kurt's shoulders and pushed him back against the wall.

"You stay the hell away from my mother, Kurt!"

"Finn!" Carole cried.

Burt, having rushed in from the kitchen, grabbed the boys and wrenched them apart. "Stop it, both of you!"

Kurt's head lurched forward, and Burt suddenly cried out in pain as Kurt's teeth dug into his forearm. Carole gasped as Burt twisted his arm away from Kurt's mouth, all three of them stepping back as Kurt abruptly dropped to a crouch, his side hugging the wall.

Burt was breathing hard, rubbing the reddening tooth marks on his arm in a daze, as if he hadn't quite registered that his son had just bit him. Kurt was rigid, his eyes wide but staring at Burt's feet rather than his face, and his fingers gripping the wall. Carole was afraid to move, and Finn seemed too confused to do anything but stare.

"…Kurt?" Burt ventured breathlessly.

A noise somewhere between a growl and a groan came from between Kurt's teeth, making Carole's heart recoil. He was backing away from them, still crouched low. There was only a foot or two between him and the stairwell.

Swallowing, Burt leaned down, reaching hesitantly towards him. "Kurt…"

Kurt's eyes suddenly flicked up to meet Burt's, and it was enough to make Burt jump back. Kurt's lips pulled back and his teeth bared, the tendons in his neck tightening beneath the skin.

Then, Kurt let out a startlingly gruff barking sound that made Carole want to vomit, and turned and ran up the stairs. On all fours.

For several long seconds, Carole couldn't hear anything but her own heartbeat. Burt and Finn both looked as terrified as she felt, but Finn was the one to finally break the silence.

"Who the hell was that?"

Burt didn't respond, letting out a slow exhale.

"Burt?" Carole prompted, hoping that her husband had at least seen this before.

"I…" Burt stammered. "I don't know."