All week Kurt had felt like he was slowly cracking. Before Blaine, before glee he was used to being alone. Now it just hurt knowing what he was missing. The drunken words Rachel had said to him echoed in his head every time he thought about texting or calling someone from glee. He considered calling Blaine telling him what he felt like, it was how their friendship had started, Blaine giving his number to Kurt him to call when he felt like he had nothing left. But Blaine was mad at him and ignored him this week in school. Kurt didn't blame him; it was his entire fault anyway.

He was thinking about it all week trying to find something to stop himself, but couldn't come up with anything. It wasn't like he had not thought of it before, most people think about it at least once, the only difference that his thinking this time turned into planning. He knew that he would be home alone today. Carole had the extra long shift at the hospital; his dad and Finn were going to be at the shop until late trying to get ahead on some repairs. Today there was time; today there would be easy access and no suspicions.

He grabbed a few blank sheets of his stationary and his pens, debating how many people he would write to, probably best to keep it to a minimum. He started with Carole and Finn there's would be the easiest and least emotional. Next was Blaine's, which took a lot longer and held more explanations and lots of apologizing. The tears he was holding ran down his cheeks blurring his vision. This had hurt more than he planned. He just hoped after explaining himself Blaine would forgive him, though he would understand if he didn't. He quickly wiped away his tears with the heel of his hand before starting on his dad's letter. He had no idea what to even say. He wished he could have been like Finn, he had tried but it obviously had not worked, maybe being like Finn wasn't enough. The letter was not as personal as he would have wanted; their relationship wasn't built on sharing emotions or feelings. He had inserted something more personal but decided against it and scratched it out. Normally he would worry about neatness and rewrite the whole letter but he didn't want to waste more time. He neatly folded them placing them in envelopes and leaving Carole's and Finn's along with his dad's letter on the mantel with their photos, Blaine's letter was left addressed on the counter with a stamp with the other mail that had needed to be sent out.

He pulled together a collection of pills from his dad's and Carole's medicine cabinet, some for sleeping, some for his dad's heart attack, some for pain. He grabbed some liquor that had been left over from the wedding and a fancy glass from the china cabinet before heading upstairs. He destroyed his phone before putting his iPod on its dock and playing the wicked album on repeat. He sat down on his bed slowly finishing off the pills and alcohol. Soon he began to feel numb. Halfway through his mind began to feel hazy and sick. He pushed to keep going and completing his task but he was starting to have trouble concentrating, he was also having difficulty with his motor skills though and finishing the pills seemed too hard and complicated. He didn't hear anyone come home and wasn't even aware that his dad had found him. Why was his dad here? Where were they? He seemed upset. He wanted to tell his dad that everything was okay and was going to be okay but he couldn't figure out how to get his mouth or voice to work together. He felt tired, he tried to close his eyes but his dad was yelling at him to stay awake. If he was yelling why did he sound far away? Why was his dad fighting to get him up? Who were these two guys? Why was one of them asking him for his name? Where did his dad go? What were they doing? No, he didn't want that. No, it hurt. "What did you take Kurt?" I don't know. "Yes you do Kurt; how much did you take?" I don't know. Stop.

The next couple days were a blur. Kurt mostly slept, a few people came into ask him some questions. Kurt begged and threated and yelled at Finn, Carole, and his Dad to not tell anyone including glee club and Blaine. As far as he knew they had not told anyone. After a week he begged his dad to let him go home. He missed his bed and his room. He hated hospitals, he watched his mother, and almost his dad, die in one; hospitals meant bad things. They sent someone home with Carole to get rid of anything he could use to harm himself before he was allowed home. Kurt cried for the first time since the incident when he saw his room. The doors were missing, his belts were gone, the scarf collection was away somewhere, his ties were removed, and his shoelaces were taken away.

It had been three days since coming home. Kurt had not moved much. He wouldn't have left his bed if he had a choice. He was acting like a zombie and he knew it. He was never allowed to be alone; someone was always with him. His dad had taken up sleeping in the same room as Kurt. Kurt hadn't admitted it but he didn't mind, it was less scary when he was holding his dads hand. Everything still hurt, especially the promises his family starting making that he knew they wouldn't keep. He still didn't want to go back to life and no one had made him yet. For now he stayed hidden in his home, sometimes crying, sometimes sleeping, not ready to admit why he had tried.