And then the phone started ringing again.

"Jesus," he muttered, and frowned at the number on the caller ID. "Finn?" He groaned and forced himself awake. He didn't get to talk to his stepbrother often, and though he cursed the time difference the other boy had clearly forgotten about, he couldn't deny that he wanted to talk to him anyway. He somehow managed a smile as he answered, "Hey, Finn, long time no--"

"Have you talked to Rachel lately?"

Kurt paused and would have laughed were he more awake.

"Well, hello to you, too. And no, I haven't. She's been too busy with Rent to answer my calls."

He yawned widely and almost missed Finn's next words.
"Try calling her again."

"Um, why?" he blinked in confusion.

"She's gone."

"What do you mean she's gone?"

"She didn't come home yesterday."

That statement broke through the last vestiges of sleep and Kurt sat up in bed

"What?"

"She didn't even go to rehearsal. They called me to ask where she was."

Kurt took note of the panicked tone of voice, and he had a funny feeling that the boy had been crying, and he winced at the thought. Finn was tough, he was damn near invincible, and Kurt didn't think he'd ever even seen him sniffle, let alone cry. He was treading on thin ice, now, and after a split second's thought, decided to act as if things were perfectly normal.

"Get out. Rachel wouldn't miss a rehearsal if she had the plague. She's in a perpetual 'the show must go on' groove."

"I'm serious, Kurt. She's just gone. And I don't know--I can't--I just."

And there were the tears, he knew, and a grim expression crossed his face.

"Whoa, there, big boy. Calm down before you hyperventilate. Now, did she go to class?"

"Yeah, I checked with her professors and everything."

"Okay, good," he nodded, almost surprised that Finn had thought to do so, but they weren't teenagers anymore, and even Finn had to get sensible sometime. "Did you call the police?"

"Well, yeah, but she's over eighteen and has been missing less than twenty-four hours. I don't think they understand--"

"That Rachel doesn't miss rehearsals, yeah," he nodded, pressing a hand to his temple to ward away an oncoming headache. "Okay, then, did you call her dads?"

"Well, yeah, but I didn't want them to worry, you know? So I played it casual."

Kurt almost snorted at the thought, but simply said, "I'm sure. And she didn't leave you a note or send a text or anything?"

"Nothing, Kurt. Not a god-damned--"

"Okay, whoa, calm down," he interrupted before the other boy threw a first-class fit. Not that Rachel's disappearance didn't warrant one, but Kurt was selfish enough that he hoped it would happen when he was not on the phone with the girl in question's fianc�. "This is going to be okay, Finn. Before we freak out any further, I want you to make a list of her usual haunts, call all her friends, see if maybe she just had a night on the town."

"On a Monday? I guess, yeah. That sounds smart. Thanks, Bro."

Finn sounded relieved to have a plan of action, and Kurt gave a sigh of his own relief that the meltdown had thus-far been averted.

"No problem. I'll call Rachel now. And relax. She probably just had a diva moment."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's probably it. Call me when you get what's going on?"

"First thing," he promised, a small smile crossing his lips that bloomed in full when Finn replied, "You're the best, Kurt. Love you."

"Love you, too, Finn. I'll be in touch."

He disconnected the call, and fell back onto the bed, his smile falling with it, and muttered, "Shit." And then, as he glanced over at the clock, a short laugh worked its way out of him, and he said, "Damn you, Rachel Berry, for getting me up at six in the morning."