Finn lived for summer vacation. There was nothing better than getting up late, making out with Rachel and having nearly endless video game tournaments with the guys. And then there was coming home to family dinners and bickering with Kurt over movies. Yeah, life was pretty sweet.

The soft scratching tones of his phone filtered over to him from the backseat as he turned the corner into his neighborhood. People always called him when he was driving. It was like they had some sort of extra sense that somehow knew when he was behind the wheel. He couldn't reach the thing without pulling over, and he was so close to home. He ignored it and let it go to voicemail. Whomever it was, they could wait.

He carefully avoided the Navigator as he pulled into the driveway. He'd door-checked it once when Kurt had been home for the weekend and Kurt had flipped even though the car had no damage to it whatsoever. Finn kept his distance from it now, afraid of what Kurt might do to him if he hurt his 'baby.' Its presence meant that Kurt was probably home, which was a bit unusual nowadays. He was out with Blaine more often than not. Huh. He pulled into the garage and let the dark of its interior wash over him as the door shut. He loved Rachel, he really did, but she needed to learn the benefits of silence. It was calming, soothing even, after listening to her babble for an hour and a half. And while they were watching a movie too. Some girly romance thing, but still; it was hard to choose which to ignore more: Rachel or the movie she had chosen for them to watch that afternoon. Rachel was cool, but talked a lot about stuff he didn't care about and her movie choices were sorely lacking. His brain could only work so fast, and it was summer vacation. He shouldn't have to think so much.

He turned the car off, unbuckled his seatbelt and reached around into the back for his phone. The screen proudly declared that he had one missed call. He flipped open the device to see who. Mercedes. Huh. That was weird. She never called him. He punched in her number and climbed out of the car, stuffing his keys into the pocket of his jeans. It barely rang once before she picked up.

"Finn! I just tried calling you. Why don't you ever answer your phone, boy?"

"Um, well, I was kind of driving and-"

"Whatever. It's cool. Anyway, I was actually looking for Kurt, but his phone is off or something. It keeps putting me straight through to voicemail. Are you home?"

That was odd. Burt had bought Kurt a new phone after they'd finally found the remains of his old one, smashed into tiny bits of plastic and warped metal lying next to the scissors Kurt had tried to gut him with under one of the beds in the basement. And they'd only looked there because Finn had found more of those little paper eyes stuck in the carpet and figured they should probably vacuum there one more time, and under the bed for good measure. This new phone had been nowhere near as fancy as his old one, but it sent and received calls and texts, which was all he needed, really.

"Uh, yeah. Actually I just got home. Want me to see if he's here?"

"That would be awesome if you could. I've been trying to reach the boy all day. We're supposed to meet up tomorrow, but I need to change the time. Can you see if he's home and then give me a call back?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I can do that." And she hung up before he could get another word in. He pulled his phone away from his ear and looked at the screen, not quite sure what to do. Look for Kurt, I suppose, he thought as he made his way into the house.

Blaine couldn't quell the furious beating of his heart as he helped Kurt into the car. He didn't know why he was so nervous, but he couldn't seem to calm himself down. Maybe it was the casual flirting. Maybe it was the odd feeling of apprehension creeping into the back of his mind. Maybe it was nothing. Whatever it was, he needed to calm down. He shook his head and breathed in deep. Focus, Blaine. You need to pay attention or you're going to crash the damn car. Relax. Nothing is wrong. You're fine. Just focus.

Kurt was quiet, staring sleepily out the passenger-side window until about five minutes into the drive. He fingered his right ear, elbow resting on the door, eyes vacant until he suddenly shot up straight in his seat. He plunged his hands into his pockets and shuffled around, looking for something. Blaine glanced over at him, eyes bouncing back and forth from the road to the boy beside him.

"Kurt, are you-"

"We need to go back."


Kurt turned to look at him. His eyes were wide and his expression oddly empty. "Your house. Blaine, I think I left my phone at your house. We need to go back."

"Sure. That's not a problem, Kurt." Blaine smiled disarmingly at his companion, but Kurt didn't respond. He just stared at Blaine as though he hadn't said anything at all. Blaine turned his attention back to the road. "We're only a few minutes out, anyway." He slowed and pulled over into a neighborhood to turn around. "Do you remember where you might have left it?"

Kurt was quiet as Blaine turned back toward his house. "Kurt?"

"Your room," he murmured. "Yeah, I think I left in your room. Must have fallen out of my pocket or something."

"Okay. Yeah, it's probably there. We didn't really go much of anywhere else, did we?"

Kurt smiled and chuckled weakly, but it made Blaine somewhat uncomfortable. "No, no we didn't, did we?"

Blaine smiled back, but his heart wasn't in it. This was getting too close to how Kurt had been acting at school, but not quite enough for him to panic just yet. Didn't mean it sat well with him, but he could let this slide. Just a lapse. Just a lapse. He's fine. Everything's fine. It's just a lapse. He's just tired. Nothing's wrong. He's fine. You're fine. Everything's fine.

The downstairs was empty, quiet, and still when Finn entered the house, but he faintly heard someone moving around upstairs. "Hello?" he called out. "Is anyone here?"

His mom appeared at the top of the stairs. He'd forgotten she worked the evening shift tonight, giving him free use of the car until three. He had probably woken her up. "Finn? Is that you, honey? What's going on?" She appeared at the top of the stairs looking confused and a tad worried. She was wearing one of her old t-shirts and a pair of what he recognized as her sleep pants; she was moving a bit sluggishly and her hair was kind of mussed. He felt a pang of guilt wash over him. She must have been taking a nap.

"Sorry, mom. Were you asleep? I didn't mean to wake you up."

She smiled sweetly at him. "It's okay, Finn. I've still got some time left before I have to leave, but I thought I told you yesterday that Sarah needed to switch shifts with me. What's going on? Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. I was just wondering if you knew where Kurt was. Mercedes called me looking for him. She said his phone's off or something."

She frowned. "That's strange. I know he's got it with him—I saw him with it this morning." She yawned and shook her head to wake herself up a bit. "You can check around and see if he's here. He might be in the basement."

"Yeah, I was going to look there next. Sorry to wake you up."

She waved her hand dismissively. "It's fine. Do you mind if I head back?" She jerked her hand in the direction of her bedroom. "I've got a few hours left on the clock before I head out."

"Yeah, go. Go on ahead. Sleep well," he called, grinning as she shuffled away from the stairs.

He headed toward the basement and opened the door. It was dark and quiet. Everything was still. "Kurt? Are you down here?" There was no response. He flicked on the lights and looked around. Everything was just as he remembered it being that morning. Kurt's bed was neatly made and his own was a tangled wreck of sheets and blankets. So Kurt was out. He wandered over to Kurt's side of the room and stared at the scattered items there. He and Kurt really were an odd pair, living in a room like this.

He passed the vanity and smirked at the copious amounts of skin and hair care products lined neatly across its white surface. Then his eye caught sight of the little blue pill box Burt had given Kurt after his episode. He remembered it because Burt had insisted on its presence upstairs for the first couple of days so he could be sure Kurt was taking his medication. He'd allowed Kurt to keep it in their room after a while, but something was off. He looked close at the box and frowned in confusion. It was Thursday. But Kurt's pill box was completely full. Finn knew for a fact that Kurt refilled it on Sundays. He opened up each one of the tabs. Pop, pop, pop. One by one. The pills stared back at him, accusing, condemning him for not noticing. Oh god.

He flipped open his phone and fumbled with the buttons, trying desperately to dial despite his trembling fingers.


"Burt. I need you to tell me where Kurt is. It's an emergency."

Author's notes: The plot thickens. And typos suck.