"DADDY!"

"I'm coming, sweetie, I'm coming." Blaine sighed, throwing the notebook onto his bed and jumping up. He walked from his double bed to the door, pulling it open to find his little girl stood in her new princess dress, the one from Sleeping Beauty, to be precise.

"Wow, sweetie. You look gorgeous." Blaine grinned, lifting her up and spinning her around.

"Can we go now, then?" Cassie smiled, flipping her blond hair as though she were fourteen, not four.

Blaine set her down on her feet. "Yes, go get your shoes on."

"Yay!" She scurried off in search of her favourite princess dress-up shoes.

Blaine sighed, smiling, and ran a hand over his hair, trying not to mess it up. He'd gelled it into place, which he hadn't done for as long as he could remember, which wasn't particularly long, to be honest.

The five foot eight man grabbed his jacket and keys, leading his daughter out of the apartment when they both had their shoes on. He took Cassie's hand and led her to the elevator, out the lobby and to the car, buckling her seatbelt before sliding into the jet black navigator himself. He loved his car, weirdly enough, it was like his second child. Or wife. Yeah, he was practically married to the thing. It felt to Blaine as though the car held memories.

But now more than ever, those feelings felt somewhat painful.

"Pass me the invite, Cass?" Blaine said, turning the keys in the cars ignition. Cassie, from the backseat, passed the invitation to her best friend's fancy-dress birthday party forward, and Blaine took it, tapping the address written on it into the Satnav.

They arrived at the party with five minutes to spare; Blaine liked to be early to things like this. He and Cassie slipped out of the car and walked to the front door of the house, Blaine knocking twice.

"Cassie!" The birthday girl was screaming before she'd even opened the door. Cassie and the little dark haired girl ran inside as soon as they saw each other, quickly replaced by the dark haired birthday girl's mom.

"Hey, Blaine." Hannah smiled, leaning against the doorframe. The two young, single parents took turns picking the kids up from school and baby sitting, so they were pretty good friends, like their daughters. "How're you doing?"

"Good, thanks, Hannah. And you?" Blaine replied.

"I'm alright." She looked him up and down while her sister and party planner, inside the house, started playing with the children. Hannah glanced over her shoulder, watching the party through the doorway. "Do you want to come inside?"

"Sure." Blaine smiled in return, stepping around her and slipping his coat off, hanging it on a rack while Hannah shut the door, before leading him into the kitchen, away from the noise of the party.

They both sat at the counter in comfortable silence for a while, being comforted by each other's presence, but Hannah was watching Blaine out of the corner of her eyes, watching his movements, his face.

"What's wrong?" She asked suddenly, causing Blaine to jump a little, turning his body towards her.

"What..."

Hannah cut him off. "I mean what is wrong? You're acting all quiet and overly shy, and I know you, Blaine, you're like, my best friend."

Blaine sighed. "I don't know where to start, Hannah, to be honest. It's complicated."

"We have time. That's what Sally's here for. She knows I can't do noise for too long, so I am excused from the party, and we have about three hours now to just talk. So talk."

"Jeez... I met this chick, Rachel. She was pretty cool, but she's married to this guy, Finn, I think." Blaine looked at his hands, clasped above the counter, for a moment, thinking, before bringing his head back up and turning it to look at Hannah, who was having a one woman staring contest. "I played a gig the other night, and Rachel was there and she brought all of her friends, her high school friends, and I swear I've seen them somewhere. There was this one guy, I think his name was Puck, who I can remember telling me to 'get a room' with whoever I was with. But it's not a clear memory..."

"You're getting your memories back." Hannah said in disbelief.

Blaine let out a huff. "I think so... maybe?"

"Blaine, this is big." Hannah suddenly turned deadly serious.

"Yeah, I don't really know what's going on yet though. Give it time, okay? To be honest, it's freaking me out a little."

"Take your time, sweetie. Try to take your mind off of it. If you're meant to remember now, you'll remember now. If not, you'll remember later. If it's meant to happen it will. Okay?"

"Thanks, Han. I don't know what I'd do without you." Blaine winked and slid off of the stool. "I've got to get to work, okay? I'm going to be late."

Hannah walked Blaine to the door. "Of course, honey. Cassie's still alright to say here overnight, yeah?"

"Yeah. I'll come by after work tomorrow to get her. Thanks again."

And with that, he was gone.

Kurt had been distant all morning, and Finn knew something was up. They were brothers, and Finn knew him better than anyone else. And it was rare for Finn to pick up on anybody's emotions, with the exception of his step-brother.

So straight away, with Kurt's cold and angry 'What the fuck do you want?" in reply to Finn's "Good morning, bro," Finn knew something was really, really up.

"Hey, man." Finn said, flopping down on the couch when Rachel, Sam and Mercedes had headed out at Finn's request. Kurt had his head buried in a magazine, and lifted his eyes for half a second before rolling them and turning his attention to the magazine in his hands.

Finn frowned, watching his step-brother. He chewed his bottom lip in worry, eyes grazing over Kurt's face.

Finn finally plucked up the courage to ask. "What's up, dude?"

Suddenly, the magazine was snapped shut and it had connected with the side of Finn's hairy head.

"What's up is that you won't leave me alone. You won't let me deal with my own fucking problems, Finn. And your little hobbit wife, too."

Finn lifted his hands in surrender. "Whoa, man! Chill!"

The shorter man jumped up. "Why the fuck should I chill? I've got nothing to be chilled about!"

"Kurt, calm down, bro." Finn breathed. He was used to his step-brothers little outbursts since Blaine left.

Kurt simply slammed his magazine back on the couch, and walked to his room, stopping in the door and turning to look at Finn.

"Blaine was my boyfriend, not yours. You could've at least told me."

Oh, crap.

When Rachel got home, without Sam and Mercedes who were now on their flight back to L.A although they were going back to New York the following week, Finn was sat awkwardly (nothing ever changes) on the couch, twisted to stare at Kurt's door, jaw dropped.

"Finn?" Rachel raised her eyebrows. "How long have you been sat there honey?"

"About three hours." Finn grimaced at the movement of his jaw. Yup, three hours of not moving hurts.

"What happened?"

"Rachel..." Finn started, totally ready to say what he knew, but something stopped him. He turned his head to look at her and faked a smile. "Nothing."

Rachel shook her head and walked around the couch to sit down next to her husband.

"You're not fooling me that easily, Finn. Tell me."

"It's nothing important. Honest. It's between me and my bro, okay?"

"Not really. But fine. You'll tell me at some point."

Blaine was sat on the couch after work, staring at his phone, chewing his bottom lip. Should he call him? Should he not? He had the house to himself, so there was no reason not to call him.

He finally gave in and dialled the number, lifting his cell phone to his ear.

"Blaine? Hi." The voice answered after two rings.

"Hey, man. You in town?" Blaine said, tapping his fingers against his leg.

"Yeah, I am actually. Why, babe? You home alone?" The man on the other end chuckled, voice lowering to a huskier and more seductive sound.

"Yeah."

"I'll be there in about half an hour, gorgeous."

Blaine waited, hand slipping between his legs, rubbing slowly. He tilted his head back and whined a little.

Damn, he loved the times he could do this. Have his guy over that is.

Blaine knew he was gay. About two months after he'd woken from the coma, he'd seen a totally gorgeous guy on tv. And that was when he realised.

But his parents had insisted he was straight anytime he said anything that might lead them to the truth. And then his father beat him, even though he'd been in a coma two months before. So he'd shut up. And he'd let them brainwash him. And he'd dated and slept with girls. He was forced go believe gay was wrong.

And he'd hated it.

So, nights when he had his booty call over... he really savoured those moments.

There was a knock on the door exactly thirty minutes after Blaine had hung up the phone. He grinned to himself, taking his hand from his jeans and getting up. He strolled to the door, composed himself and pulled it open.

"Good evening, Mr Anderson." The guy mocked, stepping into the apartment and pushing the door shut behind him.

"Mr Smythe." Blaine couldn't help the grin that played at his lips before he launched himself at the taller man, who lifted him up, spinning around and pushing him against the door.

Blaine, back now pressed against the hard wood behind him, wrapped his legs around Sebastian's waist, hands flying up to hold his head as they kissed sloppily, tongues sliding against each other in their usual routine.

Sebastian moaned into Blaine's mouth, grinding against the shorter man's ass. Blaine pulled away from the kiss, leaning his head back and whining as Sebastian ripped his own shirt off, before shredding Blaine's, too. The taller man ran his hand through curly hair, catching Blaine's head and pulling it down into another rough kiss, bare chest to bare chest.

Blaine pressed his hand on Sebastian's stomach, savouring the feel of his abs below his palm. He whined, and Sebastian grinned against his mouth, stepping back, using those incredible muscles to carry Blaine to the bed, ready for a, quite literally, rough night.

"Stupid mother fucker. Stupid lying mother fucker."

Kurt growled as he pulled his laptop from his desk and set it on the floor in front of him, laid across the carpet of his bedroom, door locked and his wardrobe pulled in front of it.

He opened his laptop, searching for something to do, then snapped it shut again, letting out a sigh that morphed into a groan. He wished he'd kept his mouth shut about his knowledge of Blaine, but he couldn't take back the past, as much as he wanted to.

He checked his watch, trying to decide if it was a suitable time to go to bed, or if he should just go out anyway. He decided against going out and changed into some sweats and an old t-shirt...one of Blaine's to be exact. Kurt inhaled the smell of the man he loved, that had somehow clung to the shirt, a few tears rolling down his cheek.

He didn't want to let go. He pretended he had years ago, but how could he? Honestly, Blaine would always mean everything to him.

And now Finn, the only person Kurt really trusted now, had lied to him. His own brother. He hadn't told him something that would change everything if he'd just allowed him the chance.

But he knew Finn would either tell Rachel that Kurt knew straight away, or he'd keep it to himself and Kurt would see Blaine by the end of the week.

And because Rachel hasn't yet come banging on his door, even though he knew she was home, Kurt guessed the latter.

And even though the chances were that Blaine wouldn't remember him, the fact that they might have a chance to make new memories together, that slim, slim chance, was enough to put the very first unforced smile upon Kurt's face in years.

And that was practically a miracle.