Kurt dreaded the times when it came close to competitions. Mr. Schue always decided to hold zero hour rehearsals, meaning the New Directions had to come into class at seven in the morning. Kurt stepped into the choir room with Finn close on his heels. Rachel was already at the piano, insisting that Brad had been playing her music wrong (“I've had a deep connection with this piece since I was in my mothers womb. I think I would know what it's supposed to sound like).

Rolling his eyes, Kurt sat down in his seat. He entertained himself funny Youtube videos on his phone while the other kids began slowly filing into the room. At seven on the dot, Mr. Schuester walked out of his office and into the choir room. Kurt pulled out his headphones and checked the time. It was seven, but where the hell was Blaine? Blaine was usually one of the first students there, somehow managing to be cheery even so early.

Kurt unlocked his phone, preparing to text his boyfriend and ask him why he wasn't there, but it turned out he didn't need to. Just then, Blaine shuffled into the room, in sweatpants and an old Warblers hoodie. His hair was loose and curly, he had slippers on his feet, and he looked like he hadn't slept all night. He looked miserable.

Blaine locked eyes with him as he began to stand up. Don't, the look said. Not yet. Kurt sat back, worrying his lip between his teeth.

“Blaine?” their teacher asked. “Are you alright?”

Of course he's not alright. What kind of idiotic question is that? Blaine shook his head and moved to the center of the room. He had his arms wrapped around himself, and seemed to be having a hard time looking anyone in the eye.

“If you don't mind, Mr. Schue,” his voice was quiet and choked up. Kurt wanted to cry. “I have something I need to say. And... and to sing.”

“Of course,” Mr. Schuester said. Ha gave Blaine a supposedly reassuring shoulder squeeze, and moved to sit with the students. Blaine took a shaky breath before beginning to speak.

“My mom has always been the supportive parent. She taught me how to play the piano, and she always let me pour that fake cheese stuff into the macaroni. And even though they never said it to my face, I'm pretty sure she convinced my dad not to disown me when I came out to them,” Blaine's eyes were shining with tears now, and Kurt wanted nothing more than to cross the room and envelope him in a hug. He didn't though, because he had the feeling Blaine had to do this on his own.

“There was one thing though,” Blaine continued. “My mom had alcoholism. There would be nights when I was younger and my dad was away on a business trip, and she would be so drunk that she'd pass out without feeding me. I kind of learned how to make a peanut butter and jelly at a pretty young age. It wasn't so bad after I'd learned to take care of myself. The worst that would happen is I'd come home from school and she'd be sleeping on the couch.”

Blaine paused for a minute, and his words sunk in. Kurt sat in shock, mouth hanging open. No. No, no, no, no, no. this couldn't happen to Blaine, too.

“Wait, had?” Rory asked from his seat in the back. Blaine nodded.

“My mom... she took her life last night.” As of that moment, tears were falling down the faces of every person in the room. Except for Finn, who was just as confused as usual. “I came home, and she was fully clothed in her empty bathtub. It wasn't the first time that had happened, so I tried to wake her up, but... but she was cold.” Kurt could see the panic in Blaine's eyes as he relived the memory.

“So I called 9-1-1, but I don't really remember much of what happened after that. It's really just a big blur of denial and confusion.” Blaine took another breath. “So, I really want to sing a song today. My mom loved this song, she said it described how she felt about her condition. It's called Sick Cycle Carousel.”

Blaine plugged his iPod into their newly acquired iHome on one of the shelves and pressed play.

If shame had a face I think it would kind of look like mine.
If it had a home would it be my eyes?
Would you believe me if I said I'm tired of this?
Well here we go now, one more time.

'Cause I try to climb your steps
I try to chase you down
I try to see how low I can get down to the ground
I try to earn my way
I try to change this mind
You better believe that I am trying to beat this

Tears were rolling freely down Blaine's face now, reminiscent of Kurt's I Want to Hold Your Hand performance.

So when will this end
It goes on and on
Over and over and over again
Keep spinning around I know that it won't stop
'Till I step down from this for good

Kurt caught his boyfriends eye, trying to transfer all of his love and support through that look.

I never thought I'd end up here
Never thought I'd be standing where I am
I guess I kind of thought that it would be easier than this
I guess I was wrong now one more time

'Cause I try to climb your steps
I try to chase you down
I try to see how low I can get down to the ground
And i try to earn my way
I try to change this mind
You better believe that I am trying to beat this,

So when will this end?
It goes on and on
Over and over and over again
Keep spinning around I know that it won't stop
Till I step down from this

Sick cycle carousel, this is a sick cycle, yeah
Sick cycle carousel
This is a sick cycle, yeah

So when will this end?
It goes on and on
Over and over and over again
Keep spinning around I know that it won't stop
'Till I step down from this for good

When will this end?
It goes on and on
Over and over and over again
Keep spinning around I know that it won't stop
Till I step down from this for good

Sick cycle carousel...

The song drifted to a close, and Kurt sprang from his seat. Blaine's legs looked like they were going to give out on him at any moment. Kurt wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, who immediately began sobbing into his neck.

“Why didn't you call me, or come over?” Kurt whispered into Blaine's curls.

“I'm sorry,” Blaine sobbed. “I'm so sorry.”

“Shh,” Kurt shushed him. “You're alright. Come on, I'll take you home so you can get some sleep.”

“No,” Blaine said brokenly. “I don't want to go home. My dad hasn't spoken to me all night, and I don't know what he's going to do.”

“Okay, okay. We can go to my house,” Kurt replied. Then he looked up and spoke to Mr. Schuester. “I'm taking him home.”

“I think that's a good idea.”

As if I couldn't figure that out for myself, Kurt thought. He pulled his keys, out of his pocket and tossed them to Finn. “Damage my car and I'll skin you alive.”

Kurt led Blaine out of the room and out to his car. Blaine pressed his keys into Kurt's hand and they climbed in. Kurt drove one handed to his house, his other occupied by Blaine's. Arriving home, they curled up together on Kurt's bed, watching Disney films until Blaine fell asleep around nine o'clock.

Kurt knew it would take time for Blaine to heal, and he never would completely, but this was a start, and Kurt would be there until the end.