Blaine kept muttering to himself. Really, really quietly. He rubbed his hands together, chewing his lip, while Kurt stared at him, mouth twitching as he tried to decide whether to look at Blaine with confusion and curiosity, not knowing what to say.

Finally, a voice broke the silence.

"Blaine! Would you get your ass back here right now?!"

Blaine nodded, although he knew his coworker couldn't actually see him do so, his hazel eyes flicking between Kurt's gaping mouth and his beautiful blue eyes.

The shorter man stepped backwards to help with whatever Rhys needed, the coffee pooled at his feet splashing a little underneath his weight. He looked down, chewing the inside of his cheek as he noticed, finally, the coffee spreading across the floor.

"BLAINE!"

Blaine looked over his shoulder, then to Kurt, to the coffee, before resting his gaze back upon the porcelain looking man before him.

He breathed Kurt's name again, before turning and scurrying to the back room.

Finn had watched the whole, crazy exchange, not understanding what was happening. From his view by the window, he could see everything in the then empty coffee shop.

What was it with these two and coffee shops, anyway?

Kurt was still stood frozen, unblinking, mouth open and breathing, but shakily, so Finn decided to just leave him be to process new information.

The taller man moved from his seat, grabbing a cloth from behind the counter and getting down onto his knees, beginning to wipe up the pool of coffee there as the cafe filled up, people bustling through.

But, by the time Finn straightened up, Kurt had disappeared from the spot he'd been frozen in.

He rolled his eyes, sighing, and looked around. Nope, Kurt had left the building.

Finn smiled, taking a coffee that was on the side and leaving the shop to look for his step-brother.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" Kurt asked aloud as he dropped into his desk chair within his office. He ran a hand through his perfectly coiffed, chestnut hair, groaning to himself.

Kurt couldn't bring himself to really feel over the reality of what had just happened. The confusion overtook him, and he couldn't decide whether he wanted to know more about how much his long-lost lover remembered, or if he wanted to leave it all behind and move on. As much as he wanted to choose the latter, life wasn't always that easy.

He played with the hem of his shirt, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

"I should go back." Kurt said, dropping his head into his hands and groaning again. "I should go back and see him and talk to him and - ugh!"

Kurt spent the next hour like that, trying to decide what to do, but as he pushed away his chair, only one thing was certain; he had to see Blaine.

"Where'd he go?" Blaine asked one of his workmates; the girl currently behind the counter. He was too stressed and confused to really remember what her name was. His head was pounding and he couldn't get the image of those perfect blue eyes out of his head.

"Who?" The girl said, passing another customer a coffee and a cupcake. Her almost-black hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, loose strands hanging around her face. She wore the uniform as anyone else would, except she wore a skirt that attracted to her bare legs.

"There was a guy..."

"Oh!" The girl grinned. "You mean Finn. Yeah, good ol' orca was helping me clean the floor because someone thought it'd be a good place to spill their coffee. I wonder who."

"No, I don't mean Finn. There was another guy here. His name is Kurt. About five-eleven? Has these piercing blue eyes?"

"Kurt? Didn't realise he was here." She smiled, sweetly, turning to look at Blaine.

"Look..." Blaine trailed off, reaching out to tilt her name badge upwards so that he could read it. "Santana, I'm really not in the mood. If you know where either of them went...wait. Santana?"

The Latina cocked her head. "And the hobbit remembers. You planning on getting it back on with good ol' porcelain? I mean, I haven't seen any of the old gang in such a long time but I'm sure they have a hole that only you can fill...wanky."

"Santana, shut up. Where did Kurt and his step-brother go?"

Santana looked over Blaine's shoulder to the back room.

"Can we get some help out here, please? Blaine's feeling rough and I want to take him home," she hollered. A tall brunette girl soon appeared, taking over the jobs at the counter, taking and fulfilling orders.

Santana didn't speak a word until she had the hobbit strapped up in her car and had pulled out onto the near-gridlocked road.

"What do you remember, Blaine? Tell me exactly how much you've remembered."

Blaine ran a hand across his forehead, trying to massage away his headache.

"I don't know, Santana. I remember a little...did I date Kurt?" He trailed off. "Wait. Don't answer that. I remember the night after I did West Side Story..."

Santana's eyebrows shot halfway up her forehead. "Wanky."

Blaine chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Where are we going, Satan?"

Santana grinned. "My place."

A while later, Blaine found himself on Santana's couch gripping a mug of coffee.

The Latina flopped down next to him, eyeing him suspiciously.

"What?" Blaine looked her up and down. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"'Cause you need to shave, hobbit."

Blaine scowled and raised his free hand to his jaw, self-consciously, brushing his fingertips along the slight stubble.

"Anyway," Santana smiled, sweetly, "Other than Kurt and I, who else do you remember? Even if the recollection is so slight it doesn't seem worth telling me."

Blaine's hand moved to his temple as he leaned back, pressing into it a little as though that would help him remember.

"I remember Rachel, maybe? A little, at least...and Puck and Quinn, I remember them now."

"Okay, anybody else?" Santana asked, leaning forward and grabbing a box from underneath the coffee table and rifling through it.

"Not that I can think of. Wait!" Blaine said, stopping Santana at one of the pictures. "Her. There's something about her..."

They were cut off by a key in the door, which swung open to reveal a tall, pretty and slim blond...the one in the picture, to be exact.

"You mean her?" Santana murmured as she lovingly gazed at the blond, who was now striding towards the pair, bag still thrown over her shoulder.

"Yeah."

"Hey, Blaine!" Brittany squealed. "How's the baby?"

"The baby?" Santana raised her eyebrows.

"Cassie?"

"Yeah!"

"Britt, baby, what are you talking about?" Santana questioned.

"The baby I dropped off at his house! The one Blaine and me made years ago."