After all those years, it should've been Kurt who'd found him, and Rachel knew that. She knew as soon as she looked into those hazel eyes her step-brother-in-law loved so much, that she should've called her husband and told him to call Kurt. But she didn't. Rachel Berry went with her gut, as per usual, even though her gut told her to do what she was pretty sure was the wrong thing.

He'd changed. His normally perfectly gelled, dark hair was loose and long, hanging in limp ringlets around his face, his eyes were cold and distant, rather than the soft and warm she was so used to seeing in the pictures scattered around the New York apartment she shared with Kurt and Finn. He wore a plain black shirt, and plain black pants, with no bowtie, nor suspenders, which was incredibly unusual for him, or at least the 'him' she used to know, the him her best gay used to, and still did, love.

She strode up to the counter, knowing he probably wouldn't recognise her.

"Can I just have a latte to take away, please? And one of those gingerbread biscuits, they're amazing." Rachel smiled sweetly, acting, one of her many talents.

"Coming right up." the dark haired man said in the deep voice Rachel knew only too well.

Blaine took a polystyrene coffee cup and started work on Rachel's latte. He still hadn't looked up directly at her yet.

"So, you new here? I haven't seen you around before. My apartment's only round the corner so I come here all the time." Rachel's smile widened, and she leaned forward onto the counter.

"Oh, yeah." Blaine replied. "I only started this morning." He finally lifted his gaze to meet Rachel's, and he cocked his head to one side, a though trying to remember her. Rachel mimicked the action, preparing her next line.

"I'm sorry, do I know you? I swear I've seen you somewhere before." She spoke slowly, trying to jog Blaine's memory.

"Possibly. I swear I've seen you before, too." Blaine sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm Blaine Anderson."

"Rachel Berry."

He clicked his fingers and pointed at her, grinning. "That's where I know you from! You're on Broadway. My ex was a massive fan of yours. She wouldn't shut up about you when you were Maria."

Rachel resisted the urge to take a step back in shock. "She?"

"Yeah. Do I look like a fag, or something? I really do need to get my haircut but I didn't think I was that bad." Blaine ran a hand through his hair.

"Oh my god." Rachel shut her eyes in disbelief that Blaine would say something like that. She shook her head as a plan formed in her mind. "Do you want to go out sometime? You're sweet."

Blaine looked taken aback as he handed Rachel her coffee. "Sure, I guess. Give me a time and a place."

"You free tonight? We could meet at the Italian place down the road at say, seven?"

Blaine nodded. "Yeah, cool. See you then."

"See you then." Rachel giggled as she turned on her heel and walked away.

"Finn!" Rachel squealed, wrapping her arms around his waist in the kitchen, spinning him around.

"Hey, honey. Didn't hear you come in." Finn tried to bend to kiss his wife, but she stepped away.

"I'm really sorry, I'm going out tonight." Rachel exhaled.

"Aww, babe. You said you'd stay home tonight." Finn whined.

"I know. I'm really sorry, but I have a date."

Finn's face darkened and his jaw locked. "What?" he growled.

"It's not what you think."

"Well, I can't think of what else it could be. What, you turning into some slut who's going to date her bosses to get herself jobs? What the hell, Rachel? I thought you were against that shit." Finn exploded, stepping around Rachel, voice rising.

Rachel's voice was barely a whisper. "It's with Blaine."

Finn's face softened instantly and his eyes went wide.

"What?"

"Blaine Anderson. He lives in New York, working at the coffee shop around the corner. I saw him this morning. Finn, it's Blaine. He doesn't remember a thing from before the accident. He's acting all homophobic and stuff. It's not like him at all. He doesn't wear bowties or suspenders and his hairs all long and messy. And he's straight, Finn. He was saying how his ex-girlfriend is a fan of mine."

"Holy shit."

"We can't let Kurt go to the coffee shop until I can work out exactly what's going on with him. If Kurt sees him..."

"If I see who?" Kurt's clear, high voice drifted through the air from the doorway, heavy with sleep.

Rachel and Finn both spun to see Kurt, wearing nothing but his boxers and a skin-tight tee-shirt. His hair was scruffy, like almost every day, and he was obviously having trouble keeping his eyes open.

Since losing the love of his life he'd changed completely. He didn't bother too much with his hair or skin, nor did he particularly worry about his clothes, although he did own a fashion line that he practically spent all his time working on. He slept around and didn't care much about consequences of anything, and he drank and swore.

"Nobody, honey." Rachel smiled. "You must have heard me wrong. I was saying you two are going to see a musical tonight."

"Probably not the best idea, Rach. You remember what happened when I went to see you in West Side Story." Kurt sighed, grabbing the OJ from the fridge and pouring himself a glass, referring to his breakdown during a romantic scene, causing Finn, and almost everyone else in the theatre, to have a minor panic attack.

"Finn won't let you get like that. You can stay here instead, if that's what you want, though. It's just that I'm going out and I thought it'd be nice for you two to go out, too."

"Quiet, Rach. I'll stay here and me and Finn will watch some depressing movie and get drunk, like I do practically every day." Kurt rolled his eyes and sipped his drink.

"Kurt, you seriously need to stop drinking. It's not healthy, dude." Finn scolded.

"Whatever." Kurt glared over at his step-brother. "I don't care what you say, Finn. We've had this conversation a million times."

"Yeah, but I stand by what I say. I'm just trying to look after you, bro."

Kurt hissed at Finn, before strolling back into his bedroom. As soon as he heard the door click shut, Finn jumped up.

"Okay, I won't let Kurt out of my sight all day. He's not working today, as it's Sunday, so I doubt he'll be out of the house. What's your plan for tonight?"

"I'm meeting him at that new Italian place down the road at seven, but I'll try being there about quarter to. I'll ask him about high-school, etcetera, and see what he remembers, or more to the point, what he doesn't. I'll try getting to know what he's like now, rather than try dig up the old Blaine, but if he's still in there, I'll find him." Rachel spoke quickly, checking the clock that hung by the door. It was almost eleven. "If relationships come up, I won't mention that I'm married, purely so I can keep this going, and find out more about him."

"Okay. You promise nothing will happen though?" Finn seemed unsure.

"Baby, I promise. It'll be fine. I love you."

"I love you, too."

The day went by much too slowly. Rachel was going out of her mind by six thirty, when she left for the restaurant, a ten to fifteen minute trip from her apartment, depending on traffic. She sat in her car, staring at her reflection in her little hand mirror for a good ten minutes, so when she finally decided it'd be a good time to head inside, it was about five minutes to seven.

She stepped inside the big double doors, greeted by the smell of freshly baked pizza, which made her mouth water. She spotted Blaine at a table for two, his head buried in the menu. He looked much more like the Blaine she knew from high school than he had that morning. His hair had been cropped short, and he wore an outfit that screamed how much he was trying to impress. His eyes were softer than they had been this morning, too, which made Rachel feel much more comfortable.

She strode over to the table, and smoothly slid into the chair opposite Blaine.

"Hi." Rachel said, simply.

"Hi, Rachel. I was really worried I was going to be late. I, obviously, got my hair cut, then I had to sort some things out and it all got a bit crazy." Blaine smiled.

"You were in here before me, so I'm pretty sure you're good." Rachel chewed her lip. "So, tell me about yourself. What's your dream?"

Blaine blushed and looked back down at his menu, pushing Rachel's towards her. She took it and pretended to read, all the while keeping her eyes on Blaine.

"To be a musician. I don't normally tell people but it's the truth." Blaine mumbled, chuckling.

"Well, I'm sure you know mine, seeing as I live it already." Rachel giggled as a waitress walked over.

She took their orders and strode off, looking bored.

"What was life like in high-school? You look like you only got out recently." Rachel blurted, trying to get to the point.

"Yeah. I only got out about three years ago. I had to repeat my senior year." He inhaled deeply, nervous, and lifted his gaze to meet Rachel's. "I was in an accident during the break between my junior and senior year. I lost most of memories. I don't remember much of my life after I was about thirteen, up until I was eighteen. They thought I'd remember eventually... but nothing. I missed too much of my senior year to pass, so I had to repeat it. I got out of Ohio a few months later, travelled around with my brother, spent a lot of time in California, but I wanted to see if there was any chance I could do Broadway. Performing is my life. It's pretty sad."

Rachel blinked. "Oh. So you don't remember anything? Did your family not tell you anything?"

"Not much. Apparently I wasn't particularly close with them, for one reason or another. They said I should try to be myself, and then I'd find my memories." He sighed. "So, put simply, I come with too much baggage. That's not all, though. Don't be put off by this but I'm a single parent. My little girl's three years old. I was an ass in my last couple of years of high school, to put it simply. The girl left her on my doorstep. I don't even really know who the mother is."

"Oh. That's okay, I'm not judging." Rachel smiled, trying to hide her shock. "I find your story quite interesting actually. Tell me more?"

The conversation was pretty one sided, learning only about Blaine. Rachel couldn't figure anything out. They talked for a while about stuff, just stuff, about Blaine's daughter, Cassie, about his music and performing dreams. Rachel, finally, said a few things about herself, too, and slowly she let Blaine know she was from Ohio, too. By the time the waitress brought their meals out, Blaine was asking about her High School.

"So where did you go?" Blaine asked, before plopping a forkful of pasta into his mouth.

"William McKinley High. What about you?"

"Dalton Academy. Apparently I went to some public school during my junior year, but my mom said I was bullied. It was crap, really." Blaine nodded, taking another bite of food.

"Were you a Warbler?" Rachel cocked her head to the side.

"Yeah, I was. Why?"

"That must be where I know you from. I was in my school's Glee Club, the New Directions. You would've been a sophomore when we competed."

"Right, yeah. I wouldn't remember. Maybe that's why I recognised you though." Blaine chewed his bottom lip, ferociously.

"Must be. Maybe I should introduce you to some of my old friends from then. Might jog your memory?" Rachel knew she wouldn't introduce him to Kurt, well, not yet, but Finn, maybe Santana, Quinn, Puck. Not Brittany, she'd give it all away too easily. But they were all in contact. Maybe Mercedes too. She met Blaine more than once, being Kurt's closest friend for a very long time.

"I don't know, Rachel. I've tried a lot before, I think I just have to realise that I'm not going to remember anything."

"Please? You can bring Cassie along. My friends, Quinn and Puck, have a little girl, too. They're about the same age."

Blaine gave in. "Okay. How about Saturday? I'm doing a gig and I'll give you all backstage passes. And Cassie's going to be there. I was going to invite you anyway, but it'd be nice to have a guaranteed audience of more than three people."

"Sure. Can I use your phone quickly?" Rachel replied.

"Yeah, here." Blaine handed it to her, and she quickly typed her number in.

"There. Call me?"

"Yeah, sure."

Rachel slid the phone back across the table, grinning. Her plan was actually working out pretty well.

The pair talked through the rest of the meal, before Blaine paid, and led Rachel outside. Thankfully, he was still a gentleman, and didn't try anything on her when they parted. Rachel made a mental note to phone everybody Blaine had met in the past as soon as she got home, as it was nine o'clock.

"I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" Blaine smiled, passing Rachel her coat.

"Yeah," the petite brunette replied, nodding before she slipped into her car and drove away.

"Rach!" Finn practically yelled as soon as he heard the front door click shut behind his wife. He jumped up from the sofa, not particularly gracefully, as per usual, and stepped up to greet her, immediately pressing his lips onto hers. In Finn's mind, he needed to make sure his wife still loved him even though she'd just gotten home from a date with another man, and thankfully, she responded with ferocity and love and need and want. Finally, Finn pulled back a little and pressed his forehead against Rachel's, which was pretty awkward as Rachel practically had to look directly at the ceiling, (granted her eyes were closed), bending her neck so her line of sight was almost vertical.

"I love you." Finn breathed. "Kurt's asleep, so you're free to talk. I checked on him a minute ago to make sure, and he's pretty much out for the count."

"I love you, too. And good, we need to start calling some old friends and invite them out this weekend. We'll have to ask somebody to stay home with Kurt, but everyone else will come with us." Rachel explained, moving to the couch, dragging a puzzled Finn with her.

Finn flopped onto the couch and pulled Rachel to his lap, wrapping his arms around her. "Where are we going?"

"Blaine's doing a gig on Saturday, and we're going with him. But Finn, he has a daughter. I said we'd get Quinn and Puck to bring Hayley... and Beth of they've got her, but it's weird. I always thought they'd have kids together, you know? Kurt CoBlaine. Klaine. Like we were Finchel. Get it?" Rachel signed. "So get your phone out. I'm going to start with Mercedes, ask if she'll stay with Kurt. He wouldn't agree to a night with anyone else."

"Agreed. Get her to ask if Sam'll come with us. I'll get Puck on the phone now, and ask if he and Quinn can come over from California." Finn nodded, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialling the number.

"'Kay." Rachel smiled, having already dialled Mercedes' number, putting the phone up to her ear.

By the time they were done, Rachel and Finn had managed to convince most of their old New Directions friends to come visit for the weekend, along with a few of the Warblers, too, who Blaine hadn't contacted since he'd lost his memory, therefore, seeing as they'd been his best friends for a long time, Rachel figured they may help to jog his memory if he didn't remember them.

The pair rewarded themselves with a make-out session on the couch before they went to bed, not resulting in sex, much to Finn's disapproval.

Kurt groaned as his alarm clock ran out. It was Monday, his least favourite day of the week, at six a.m, and he had work in two hours. He rolled over and slammed his fist into the button to shut the thing up, and slipped out of bed. He ran a hand through his scruffy hair and moved over to his vanity, sitting in the chair in front of it and grabbing his moisturiser.

Okay, so he wasn't completely a lost soul. Yes, he had a new boyfriend every other week and he always bottomed because he felt it was the weaker, more submissive spot, and he drank almost every night to the point he was vomiting and couldn't stand up, but Kurt Hummel was in fashion, and the public eye, and therefore he did still give a crap about his appearance.

He fixed his face and then his hair, nothing as careful and perfect as how he did it as a teenager, but his skin was clear and soft and his hair was coiffed as usual, with a few hairs out of place.

He pulled a pair of deep red skinny jeans and a plain black shirt from his wardrobe and threw them on, checking the clock. It was almost time for him to leave if he wants to get coffee and breakfast from his favourite café.

Kurt opened his door and walked from his room to the front door, grabbing his coat and shoes, slipping them on.

He pulled the door open when a big hand wrapped around his arm from behind. Kurt spun on his heel and looked Finn in the eyes.

"What?" Kurt snapped, annoyed at the interruption in his morning.

"Where are you going?" Finn shot back.

"Coffee and work..?" the shorter boy pulled his arm from the giants grasp.

"Coffee from where?"

Kurt's face was screwed up in slightly creeped-out confusion. "The place around the corner, where I always go before work."

"I was going to go to Starbucks. Come with me? I'll drive you into work, and I'll pick you up tonight so you don't have to pay for a cab."

"Why, Finn?"

"I just felt like spending some time with my little bro." Finn frowned.

"We spent time together last night, but fine."

The darker haired boy's face lit up, glad he'd managed to stop any chance of Kurt seeing Blaine today.

"Cool. Let's go." Finn slipped his sneakers on and led Kurt out of the apartment.