You should all love me because I wrote this instead of writing my lit paper that's due tomorrow morning at 10 am. But really, thank you for the reviews; they really are like drugs to me. God, writing the opinion of this doctor makes me want to projectile vomit all over the place…

Blaine was free.

He was free to at least roam the floor, finally able to leave the restraints and the unwelcoming feeling of his hospital room. There were several other patients already in the recreation room by the time he arrived; many were watching the small television and others were gathered around a large puzzle arguing about which pieces went where.

"I see you've decided to join us this morning," one of his nurses smiled from behind her desk. "You can read or draw or watch TV." She motioned to the group bickering over the puzzle, "For your own sanity I suggest you don't help them; they aren't very good at sharing."

Blaine chose to sit in the corner at a small, empty table. He traced the lines in the wood with his finger lazily. He wanted to go back home, back to Dalton, back to Kurt and their crazy, cheating friends. He wanted to feel Kurt's arms around him, hear the words of encouragement. Kurt was his rock, and now he just felt lost.

Blaine, I'm sorry, but you can't return to your old life. You need to start fresh and make new, real friends. Dalton wasn't a good fit for you, and in time you will come to accept that fact.

They told him that what he had felt, the made up feelings for Kurt, weren't real.

"I've always been gay," Blaine insisted. "It didn't just start when I met Kurt."

"You never said anything to your parents," the doctor told him, and Blaine furrowed his brow. Hadn't he? He remembered telling them years earlier just as the bullying reached the tipping point. The assault, the transfer, it had all been because being out in a public school in Ohio had been dangerous. "Once they realized you were lying about Kurt they called me."

"But I did come out before Kurt. I told them!"

"They've told me otherwise, Blaine. Who am I supposed to believe? Parents who love and want to protect their child from harm or a young, sexually confused man?"

"I-I'm not sexually c-confused," Blaine stuttered.

"I saw you talking with Cate today."

"I have friends who are girls back home," Blaine said pointedly. "That doesn't mean I'm confused. I know I like boys."

"And that isn't something that's normal for teenage boys, Blaine. You're still growing and developing."

"What?"

"You're experimenting, which I know a lot of young people do, but that doesn't mean any of this is right."

It was days of this, over and over his doctors would say the same things. Your actions are disgusting, Blaine, and they're very wrong for a man of your age.

"Hi, you," Cate said from the doorway, she wore a small, caring smile on her face and entered the room. She held up a prepackaged muffin and a bottle of orange juice. "You didn't come down for breakfast."

"Yeah," Blaine sighed. "I'm not hungry."

"Adding another problem to your list, Anderson?" Cate giggled and nudged him with her shoulder. "Come on, you should eat something or they'll freak out and force feed you."

"You should know," Blaine quipped and snagged the bottle of juice from her; Cate ignored the comment, opened the muffin and split it into two before handing him one of the pieces.

"Are your parents visiting this week?" Cate asked softly. His parents hadn't been to see him, and the doctors said it was because they wanted him better before seeing him again. Blaine shook his head in response. "Oh well. We'll be the presidents of the 'our parents have abandoned us in this hellhole' club then."

He looked at Cate and smiled. She had been kind to him, and she'd been a good friend. He felt comfortable enough around her even though they only had met a few weeks earlier. She polished off her half of the muffin with a swig from Blaine's apple juice before hopping off of his bed, "You going to group?"

Cate huffed, "Obviously. Don't you have a private session today?"

Blaine sighed, "I have a private session every day."

Cate paused for a moment, biting her bottom lip between her teeth, "Do you think that you made them up? Your boyfriend and all of your friends?"

"Sometimes I think so. They keep telling me I did, but I want to believe that Kurt was real. God, Cate, he felt so real; how could I make up something that amazing?"

"The mind is a strange thing, B," Cate said softly. "Maybe you should trust the doctors; they seem to know what's right most of the time. Maybe the sooner you start trying to understand why you act the way you do they'll let you go home, and one of us can get back to our normal lives."

"I don't get it," Blaine huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm attracted to guys. Guys turn me on. I don't feel the same with girls. How can that be wrong?"

"You're a confused young man, Blaine, that's how."

"Well then there are a lot of confused people out there because I'm not the only gay kid in America."

"And that's a very sad fact, Blaine. Many parents don't care about their children's well being like yours do. They realized something was wrong and brought you here."

"They drugged me to bring me here."

"They knew you wouldn't come willingly. They did the right thing in this situation, Blaine. We can get you healthy and better before things progress any further."

"This all seems so insane," Blaine sighed. "Being gay isn't wrong."

"And that's the thoughts and behaviors we're trying to change. That kind of thinking isn't healthy. The more you fight this the longer you'll be here. We're going to try some new therapies to see if we can help you understand better, okay?"

Blaine could only nod weakly. He just wanted all of this to be over with.

Burt knocked softly on his son's bedroom door and sighed for the hundredth time that day; Blaine's cell phone had been disconnected. His Dalton tuition for the next school year had been pulled and none of the Warblers had heard or seen him in two weeks. To Kurt, it was as if he'd dropped off the planet. When Kurt didn't answer Burt pushed the bedroom door open and stepped into the room. He dropped down next to Kurt on the bed and rubbed his son's back as the younger Hummel cried into his pillow.

"Hey, kiddo, come on you gotta eat something," Burt said softly.

"Where is he dad?" Kurt sobbed. "What if something happened?"

"I'm sure he's fine, Kurt, and that he'll call you when he can, okay? But you gotta take care of yourself."

"But what if he's hurt? What if he's lying in a ditch or—"

"Kurt."

Kurt sniffled, wiping the tears away and buried his face into Burt's chest, "I'm so worried."

"I know, kiddo, I know."

Another week passed without Kurt hearing from either Blaine's parents or Blaine. There were no phone calls or texts or emails, and the pain in Kurt's chest worsened as the days went by. The worry only increased when he learned that neither David nor Wes had heard from him either. A part of him was relieved that Blaine wasn't just avoiding him for some reason, but now he was more terrified.

He was slowly pushing the shopping cart behind Carole as she scolded both Finn and Burt for grabbing less than healthy items for the cart. Normally he would have had an input and a scolding look to give his father, but he couldn't even muster up a smile when Finn sneakily stuck the box of sugary cereal back into the cart after Carole had taken it out.

But a flash of color caught his eyes and his head snapped to the side quickly. He'd know that fashion disaster anywhere.

Mrs. Anderson.

She was to his left, mulling over an assortment of cheese, casually, as if nothing was wrong in her world. Mr. Anderson stood a few steps away picking up a jug of milk. At first Kurt was shocked, but soon anger swept over him and he left his own shopping cart to approach them. Burt stopped dead in his tracks, dropping his playful argument with Carole as he saw the anger in Kurt's eyes.

"Where is he?"

Mrs. Anderson looked startled; she clearly recognized him, "Excuse me?"

"Where is Blaine?"

"Do we know you, son?" Mr. Anderson asked as he approached and Kurt gaped back at him.

"I'm sorry?" Kurt shook his head. "I'm Blaine's boyfriend. I've met you before, Mr. Anderson."

"I'm sure I would have remembered Blaine introducing us," Mr. Anderson scoffed and dropped the jug of milk into his cart. "And Blaine certainly does not have a boyfriend; he has, however, introduced us to plenty of his girlfriends."

"Are you kidd—"

"I'm sorry, but we really must be going," Mr. Anderson said and his wife followed behind him; she smiled, forcibly, as she passed Kurt.

"What the hell was that about?" Burt asked from behind him.

"They acted like they had never even met me, dad," Kurt's jaw dropped as he turned to face his father. "Like I never even existed. What the hell is going on?"