It had started very suddenly, without warning. There were no signs, nothing that could have possibly caused it.

When Kurt came home that night, it was like a dark storm cloud hanging over his head. Blaine was still refusing to talk to him, ever since finding out about Chandler's flirty texts. It wasn't cheating. At all. It was just a little harmless fun. Besides, Sebastian had been much worse.

On top of all that, NYADA auditions were getting closer and closer and his Dad was still moping around the house, giving him these sentimental looks that were both awkward and saddening.

Sighing, Kurt climbed up the stairs to his room and dropped his bag on his bed. After a quick shower and a long moisturizing routine, Kurt tugged on some pajamas. He ate leftovers, hardly talking to his dad at all before retreating to his room for the night.

He fell asleep around ten.

The next morning, Kurt was woken up by sunlight coming in through his window and hitting his face. He groggily opened his eyes and rubbed them, stretching his arms and legs. Then he felt something that made his blood run cold. He shifted, the sheets cleaning to his legs. They were cold and damp, reeking of urine.

Taking a shaky breath, Kurt pushed the covers off, his ears ringing when he saw the large wet spot surrounding him.

"Oh my God, this can't be happening." He gasped, quickly standing up beside his bed. The last time he could remember wetting the bed was when he was six.

Kurt bit his thumbnail. He had to hide the evidence. It would be difficult to sneak all of the wet bedding and pajamas down to the laundry before Carole noticed and if she found out, Burt would know soon enough as well.

Kurt checked the clock. 8:23. Burt and Finn were definitely still asleep. Carole would be downstairs by now. He glanced over at the sheets again, his cheeks turning red with shame. Then he covered the evidence with his comforter, grabbed some clean clothes and scurried to the bathroom.

After a shower, Kurt bundled the sheets up, rolling the pajamas inside and slowly made his way down the stairs, looking and listening for anyone coming. He peeked around the corner to see Carole looking into the fridge and he practically flung himself to the basement stairs, sprinting to the laundry room.

There. With the evidence washing away, Kurt could relax. He returned to the kitchen and sat down, greeting Carole and engaging in small talk about glee and clothes. He kept a smile on his face, but in the back of his mind, all he could think of was the big, dingy, wet spot in the center of those pristine white sheets.