Sometimes...you become a grown ass adult with terrible insomnia who writes new chapters on abandoned stories for nostalgic purposes. Enjoy, sorry for leaving, don't expect anything to come of this. Obviously my writing style has changed a little and this may be a tad dark for the purposes of this fic. Just pretend it's not here if you hate it. -HC

Parents Day, in Sebastian's opinion, is the worst day of the year. The idea of his father walking around this all boys school, throwing the words "fag" and "fairy" around like its running out of style while he criticizes every aspect of Sebastian's being in between breaths is a thought that gives Sebastian a pit in the very depths of his stomach. As for his mother...he loves her dearly, but she's so doting and motherly and...embarrassing. He feels guilty thinking like that, but he's a teenager, contrary to his past record, and just like any teenage boy, he really doesn't want his mom babying him in front of his classmates. He's already humiliated himself enough for one semester.

It's gotten better. Thanks to the joint efforts of Dalton Academy's zero-tolerance bullying policy and the Warblers quelling any rumors, he's managed to avoid the very worst of the results of Bassy's English class tantrum. Still, he catches his classmates staring at him, whispering to each other, and while he wants to know exactly what they're saying about him, he also knows that he's heard it all before. These things are both terrible, but nothing could compare to what he'd faced that Saturday morning the week before.

Sebastian awoke to the sound of soft conversation and the smell of bacon. It felt cozy and he yawned, closing his eyes again and pulling the puffy duvet tighter around his shoulders. Wait. Sebastian sat up and looked around, only to be met with soft grays and whites. A big wooden K sat on the bookshelf across from the bed he was lying in and suddenly he remembered exactly where he was. Kurt. He had gone to Kurt's house last night. The highway...the couch, oh God, the couch. He winced, knowing for certain that Blaine knew about it by now. The memory brought his attention down to his lap, which was cold and damp, for which he was now grateful that Kurt had offered the Goodnite, despite the embarrassment that accompanied it. He slowly slid out of the queen sized bed and his bare feet hit cold hardwood that creaked under his weight. No doubt Kurt and Blaine would hear him and know he was awake. Not wanting to be caught by them in his current state, Sebastian scurried into the bathroom to get himself sorted.

Ten minutes later he gingerly descended down the staircase and peered around the corner into Kurt's kitchen, where the two were sitting together at the table with coffee. As if the couple possessed a sixth sense, both heads immediately turned in his direction and he found himself feeling extremely shy, as if he were intruding on a private scene.

"Good morning." Kurt smiled. "Nice to see you finally got some sleep." He stood and grabbed a plate from the cupboard. "I hope you like scrambled eggs."

Unsure of what to say or do, Sebastian slowly shuffled into the doorway and watched as Kurt poured out a generous helping of eggs and bacon onto a plate for him, then poured him some coffee.

"What do you like on your toast? We have butter if you want to be boring, and I just picked up three new jars of jam at the farmers market last weekend." Kurt smiled and glanced up at him expectantly as he made a place for him at the table. "Well? Don't let it get cold."

Feeling very much out of place inside the home of his former romantic adversary, Sebastian stepped into the kitchen, as if expecting to be scolded. When the boys merely smiled, he brought his other foot over the threshold and silently made his way over to the chair that Kurt had pulled out for him.

Once Kurt had sat down next to Blaine once more, he settled in to watch as Sebastian took small, hesitant bites of his food. "Eat as much as you'd like." He said. "I know you haven't had much of an appetite lately, but we want to make sure you're eating properly."

Sebastian blushed and nodded, noncommittally picking at his plate. The two of them said nothing as he ate, though it seemed as though every time he glanced over at them, they had a thought right on the tip of their tongues that they just couldn't seem to get out. In the end, he finished half of his breakfast and apologetically allowed Kurt to clear the table before getting dressed for the day. Although Kurt had washed his soiled clothes overnight, Sebastian was still offered a pair of McKinley sweat pants and Blaine's hoodie, both of which he accepted gratefully. When he decided that it was time to go, he collected his things while the couple stood behind him skittishly.

"Are you sure you're okay to drive?" Blaine asked. "I'd be happy to take you, Kurt could follow behind us."

Sebastian quickly shook his head. "I'm fine, really. Don't waste your day babysitting me."

Kurt allowed a small smirk to touch his lips. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Sebastian turned to face him, ready to snark right back, but his eyes fell to the purple-gray bruising that spread across Kurt's porcelain throat. "Are you sure you're okay?" He asked. "That looks kind of bad." He reached forward to touch that scarf that Kurt had donned this morning, but the boy quickly brought a hand up to intercept his.

"Fine, honestly." Kurt smiled. "You know how terrible Finn is at dancing. He feels really bad about it. Offered to buy me unlimited meals at Breadstix."

Sebastian noticed the look Blaine cast towards his boyfriend and frowned. "What really happened? Did somebody bully you?"

"What, no, I-

"Was it at school? Those dumb McKinley jocks?" Sebastian pressed. He didn't know why he was suddenly so concerned about Kurt's safety, but that bruise just looked so-

"It was you."

Sebastian was yanked out of his thoughts at the sound of Blaine's voice, soft and gentle, but also firm in its accusation. His eyes widened in surprise and he looked from Kurt, back to Blaine. "No...I didn't do that, I swear. Why would I be asking about it if-

"Last night you barged into the house, grabbed Kurt by the throat, and pressed him up against that wall." Blaine said calmly but steadily, pointing towards the front hallway. "I pulled you off of him and you threatened us...you told us to leave Sebastian alone. Do you remember that?"

Sebastian felt cold, he felt tingly, like every inch of his skin was being pricked at the same time. He looked from Blaine's firm gaze to Kurt's worried eyes and he frantically searched his mind for any recollection, any memory at all of him losing himself to Bassy during the previous night once he'd arrived at Kurt's but he just….couldn't.

"Sebastian it's okay-Sebastian wait!"

Sebastian ignored Kurt's pleas as he grabbed his things and bolted from the house, struggling to pull his keys out of his pocket. His hand shook as he tried to get the key into the car door. He heard Blaine and Kurt behind him, their voices getting closer, but he didn't dare look back as he got into his car, started the engine, and drove off.

Naturally, Nick and Jeff were waiting for him when he got back, cell phone in hand and he tried his best to ignore them as he stalked past them and into the bathroom. Over the sound of the running water in the sink he could still hear them on the phone, reassuring Kurt that "yes, Sebastian was here, he'd made it back okay, we'll keep an eye on him" and he closed his eyes. He didn't want to think he could've done something like that to Kurt. Not now, when he'd become a twisted sort of guardian angel for him, not when Kurt and Blaine felt like the only two people he could really go to for help, as much as it mortified him. He retraced his steps in his mind, from the car to the driveway to the house, when Kurt had already had the bruise. When in that time had he slipped? Why didn't he remember? He stared at himself in the mirror: his bloodshot eyes, the gray tint of the bags underneath, the concavity of his jaw...he looked wild. How had he gotten this way?

He felt himself repeating the question three days later as he stood in the Westerville Walgreens in a baseball cap and sunglasses to pick up his newest round of medication prescribed by his newest round of doctors. The bag rattled as he hurried back to his car but once inside, he pulled the bottles out and positioned them in a straight line on top of his dashboard. He hated them, truly, but the memory of Kurt's mangled throat had him pulling a half empty bottle of diet Pepsi from his backpack. Slowly and carefully he opened each bottle, tipping one of each into his hand until he had a nice array of blue, green, and white pills decorating his palm. He unscrewed the bottle and took one at a time: anti-depressant, check. Anti-anxiety, gone. Antipsychotic….

Never in his life did Sebastian ever think he would do something for Kurt Elizabeth Hummel.

Sebastian didn't think the pills were working, but the doctor told him it would take time. He hoped in time for Parents Day. He sat down at the Warblers' lunch table and was greeted by small smiles and nods. Even his friends treated him like a crazy person. They chattered around him excitedly about the Parents Day performance, about tests, about everything and anything. Sebastian rested his jaw in his hand and moved his lunch around with a fork, wondering how it got to be that the conversation of his friends had somehow managed to transform itself into an endless din of unintelligible noise.

"Sebastian?"

He looked up to find everybody staring at him. "Huh?"

"Are you alright?" Trent asked. "We called your name like, three times."

"Oh, yeah, I'm just tired. Midterms." He shrugged halfheartedly. He felt the worried glances as if they were boring into his skin.

"If you're sure…" Trent frowned disbelievingly. "Did you finish your Parents Day portfolio yet?"

"Yeah." Sebastian nodded, offering nothing more to the conversation. He glanced down at his food, which had been stabbed and moved so many times that it was starting to turn into mush. Nausea rose in his throat. "I need to do some stuff before class." He stood and as he did so his vision seemed tunnel a bit at the edges and he steadied himself. He needed to get his portfolio done. He'd forgotten about it completely. He needed to study for the test that he wasn't sure the topic of, and he'd forgotten to charge his phone the night before. It was on seven percent. He didn't take his pills that morning. If only his father could see him now, still Sebastian, still falling apart at the seams.

He spent the rest of lunch alone in his dorm room and dutifully took his pills before heading to his next class. The last thirty minutes were a long stretch of dulled colors and words that he couldn't quite make out. The bell rang, but the sound seemed almost muted. He relied on the autopilot created by days and days of repetitive routine to take him to his next class.

This was his life now. No color, no sound, no feeling, no Bassy. Kurt and Blaine called him, and he answered and they asked him if he was okay and he told them the truth: he was fine. Bassy was gone. He was fine. The boys always seemed worried, but as long as Sebastian remembered to take his pills and finish his portfolio and study for his test and plug in his phone at night, everything was fine.

He took to making lists. He put post-it notes on the wall beside his bed, on his desk, on the bathroom mirror, because for some reason he always managed to forget something. Nick and Jeff got him sent to the counselor's office again, no doubt worried. He told the counselor about his meds, and they let him go back to class. Nobody knew what to do with him anymore. Teachers avoided calling on him in class, excused his late homework, softened their grading criteria. His friends tried talking to him, made attempts to involve him in their plans, but they could only do so much before the constant failure made them give up completely. He shouldn't have been surprised when they called in the big guns.

That day, the eve of Parents Day, Sebastian returned to his dorm and found the pair sitting patiently for him on the edge of his bed. The minute he entered, he was enveloped in their embrace, but when they received no reaction, the two backed up and studied him with concern.

"Nick tells me you're not eating. You aren't talking to anyone, you're not doing anything. What's going on, Sebastian. You say you're okay, but just by looking at you I can tell that you're not." Kurt frowned, studying his gaunt cheekbones and baggy uniform.

"I am okay. Bassy is gone." Sebastian answered almost automatically.

"Just because Bassy hasn't shown up, does not mean you're okay. What changed?" Blaine asked, taking his hand and sitting him down on his bed.

"Nothing, I just started taking my meds." Sebastian answered truthfully.

That earned a reaction from both boys as Kurt quickly occupied the spot beside Sebastian, taking his hand while Blaine started to look around.

"My doctors gave them to me, to stop the episodes. It's good." Sebastian replied. He looked up at Kurt's eyes, unable to reciprocate the emotion that consumed them. "It's better this way. I hurt you."

The look of pure sorrow that Kurt gave him sent the smallest of twinges through his chest. "Oh, sweetheart, that wasn't your fault. None of this is your fault. Don't you ever think that it is. I know that you wouldn't hurt me."

Sebastian studied his expression, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Who are you talking to?"

Kurt's eyes widened in surprise. "What? You, I'm talking to y-

"I can't tell if you are." Sebastian told him candidly. "I think you're talking to Bassy. Bassy is a baby, of course he can't hurt you, but I…" His voice cracked and he looked down at his lap, wondering when his hands had tightened into fists.

"Sebastian!"

Blaine's voice caught his attention and he glanced up to find the boy rushing towards him with a handful of bottles. His bottles.

"Is this what you've been taking? This is what is making you like this?" Blaine frowned.

"Blaine, we're not doctors, we don't know-

Blaine cut his boyfriend off and stared straight into Sebastian's eyes. "I don't know what these pills are doing to you, Sebastian Smythe, but this person…" His gaze scanned the younger boy up and down, "...this is not you. You're deteriorating. This is not who you are. You need to stop this, tell your doctor what these have been doing to you."

Sebastian shook his head, his eyes on the pill bottles. "I hurt Kurt. I might hurt him again. I might hurt you, or my mother…"

"There's a way to deal with that, baby." Blaine frowned. "These pills are not it."

Sebastian rubbed his eyes. "I don't feel like talking." Was all he had left to say on the matter.

Blaine watched him disapprovingly. "I don't want you taking any more of these until you tell your doctor about what's been happening."

Kurt straightened up in his spot. "Blaine! We don't have the authority to do that!"

"You heard what Nick and Jeff said!" Blaine snapped back, a little too sharply. "They're scared he's going to kill himself."

Sebastian shook his head. "No, no, no, I wouldn't. I just want to be in control."

"There's nothing to control." Blaine replied. "You aren't even you anymore."

Sebastian felt tears burn behind his eyes and shook his head again, shooting up from the bed. "No, I am. I'm me I'm Sebastian Smythe and I'm a Warbler and I play lacrosse and…" He rambled on, pacing back and forth before the two boys.

Kurt immediately stood and placed his hands on Sebastian's shoulders in an attempt to guide him back to the bed. "Come on back, Sebastian, we can talk about this. We can help you." He tried, but his ministrations were drowned out by Sebastian's constant stream of words as he paced faster and faster, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes as he tried to block out the world around him because it was all too much.

He felt firm hands on his shoulders and jerked away. "I thought I told you to leave him alone!" He snarled, turning around the face the boys in front of them. "What part of that didn't you understand?" He glanced from one boy to the other, breathing heavily as he pushed his hair from his eyes.

"Sebastian?" The pale one asked.

A surge of anger pulsed through his body. "I warned you." He growled. "You boys should have listened the first time. I've had enough of this fucking nonsense that you queers are trying to push onto my son. He doesn't need you, or your feelgood bullshit! What he needs is a firm hand and a straightjacket!"

Kurt and Blaine collectively took a step back. This was not Sebastian. It was certainly not Bassy. This was something new.

"M-Mr. Smythe?" Kurt tried the immediate eye contact verified his theory. "Mr. Smythe, please calm down. We don't want to cause any trouble."

"Calm down?" He asked. "Calm down?" He lunged at Kurt furiously. "You don't tell me when to calm down!"

In the blink of an eye, Blaine positioned himself in front of Kurt, grabbing the younger boy by the shoulders before sliding his hands down to wrap around Sebastian's wrists. Mr. Smythe snarled in anger as he tried to beat him back, but his starved body was no match for Blaine's strength as he slowly guided the struggling boy back towards his bed. "You cannot be here if you are not willing to talk to us calmly." Blaine spoke gently, but his voice was stern as eased the boy closer and closer to the bed, step by step.

Kurt watched in shock, a hand over his mouth as his boyfriend carefully lowered the struggling boy onto the bed, never once loosening his grip. "Blaine...don't hurt him." He said weakly.

"Like this faggot could hurt me." Mr. Smythe spat, glaring up wildly into Blaine's cool eyes. "If my son wasn't such a goddamn wimp…"

"You need to calm down. We want to talk with Sebastian." Blaine replied.

Mr. Smythe let out a rough, barking, laugh. "You think he wants to talk to you? He hates you! You got him all caught up in this perverted lifestyle of yours!" He glowered up at the boy restraining him. "You're disgusting, filthy….your kind should all be put away! Locked up where nobody ca-

He choked on his words, letting out a cough followed by a sharp intake of breath and he looked around the room frantically as his struggling ceased. His gaze darted around desperately until they locked with Blaine's. The instant they did his face crumpled and tears began to flow freely down his face. "Papa." He choked out, his voice failing him.

Blaine's expression instantly softened. "Bassy." He breathed, releasing his grip on the boy's wrists. "Oh baby you must be so scared." He pulled the boy into his arms where he proceeded to bury himself. They were immediately joined by Kurt, who brushed the hair away from Bassy's damp forehead and whispered softly into his ear.

Over the cries of their little boy, Blaine and Kurt exchanged silent looks. There was nothing that needed to be said.