Kurt kept calling Blaine's name. He did it even after Blaine walked out of the parking-lot, getting out of his car to call the one syllable word into the night. Eventually his throat got too dry and his voice started to crack, so he sat by the driver's door, waiting for Blaine to come back. But after a while Kurt couldn't ignore how late it was getting, and realizing he couldn't do much else, he left.

As he pulled onto the highway, Kurt concluded that this whole situation was so messed up. He also concluded that he'd continue to live in this crazy little world with Blaine, if Blaine came back. He needed Blaine and was realizing how much.

Was Blaine actually gone? Or was he sitting in Kurt's car, nervously tugging his hands, praying that there were no collisions? According to Blaine, he never left Kurt's side – he couldn't. So, was he?

"Blaine," Kurt whispered, "if you're here... If you're here, I just- I'm sorry for being so...forceful. I just...love you. I think that should be enough for you to stay."

Kurt waited, silently for a few miles, barely breathing as he wanted for Blaine's return. He didn't come.

Blinking back tears, he pressed the gas pedal harder. Once he was at the home game, he'd stop thinking about this, and the faster his went, the quicker he'd get there. His exit was up ahead, so he swerved into the other lane.

A loud screech from tires that weren't his own cut through the silence. Kurt felt himself jerk forward. The sound of metal ripped against metal deafeningly. When Kurt looked through his rear-view mirror, white light instantly blinded him.

And that's the last thing he remembered.

Blaine's eyes began to focus. The white started to fade, and as passed it, he started to make out a figure. It was a woman with long black hair in a tight red dress. Blaine laughed as he approached her because this suited her much better than white.

"Santana?"

Santana jumped. Slowly, she turned her head. Her face lit up instantly, and she ran into Blaine's arms.

"Wait," she choked out, her body suddenly rigid. "You aren't an angel anymore, either?"

Blaine watched as Santana's eyes took him in. Following her gaze, he looked down at himself as well. He was wearing normal human clothes – no white.

"We aren't angels?" Blaine gasped.

Santana shrugged. "I mean, look around. Kurt and Brittany aren't here."

Blaine looked over Santana's shoulder. Standing behind her was a 1000 foot, iron structure he'd only ever seen in pictures: the Eiffel Tower. Were they in Paris?

"We're free," Santana whispered, sorrow filling her words.

Blaine followed Santana around the city. Here are the things she knew: they were still invisible; there were no more wings; and although they weren't bound to anyone, Santana could still feel Brittany. ("But that might be a figment of my imagination.")

"So, have you seen her?" Blaine asked, gazing up at the buildings that boxed them into the narrow street.

"Yes. She doesn't remember me," Santana replied, her voice empty. "Do you think I'd be here if she wanted me there? Just the way she looked at me, I knew I was a stranger."

Blaine looked down at his shoes, thinking only one question, but being too afraid to ask it out loud. "Do you think..." he started but trailed off.

"Kurt will remember you?" Santana assumed. Blaine nodded shortly. "Only one way to find out, I guess."

"By going back? How? How did we even get here?"

"Well, when Brittany was five, her family went to Paris on vacation. I remember it so vividly. So, when Britt didn't remember me, I panicked. I needed to be anyplace else. I closed my eyes, and the next time I opened them, I was staring at the Eiffel Tower," Santana explained then looked up at Blaine. "You probably wanted to be with me; it's understandable."

"How do we get to them though? Do we just close our eyes and wish for it? Paris doesn't move. Kurt and Brittany could be anywhere right now."

"I could follow the pull I feel?"

"The one that may or may not be a figment of your imagination?" Blaine retorted.

"Whatever, hobbit. If that doesn't work, we can stalk them at their houses. Not rocket science."

Blaine took one last look at the strangers walking passed him. They were completely unaware of this world that existed right alongside their own, a world Blaine and Santana has been living in their whole lives. Now the ex-angels had an opportunity to never live there again, and they were going back?

"Do it," Blaine said sternly.

Santana dropped her gaze to the ground, taking in a breath. Blaine grabbed for her hand, watching her face grow from concentrated and determined to soft and dreamy.

"They're at the hospital," she whispered. "Shut your eyes and follow me."

Blaine only hesitated for a second before following Santana's instruction, shutting his eyes. The feeling of floating overcame him, like being on the swings at the amusement park Kurt took him to. The memory turned Blaine's stomach. When he opened his eyes again, everything was momentarily fuzzy.

Santana gasped just as Blaine's eyes picked up the hospital room. There were only three people: Brittany, Kurt, and another angel, wings white as snow.

The angel must have heard Blaine and Santana because she turned her head, her expression dropping from pleasant to sorry. Blaine suddenly understood as he caught a glimpse of the scene at her side.

Brittany, in a hospital gown, was sitting in a chair beside a bed. And in the bed was Kurt.

"Blaine," the angel whispered, as Blaine launched himself towards the bed. She grasped his arm, gently. Whirling around, the two came face-to-face.

"I- You-" Blaine spluttered. "You're-" the angel nodded, "-Kurt's mother?"

She smiled, her eyes sparkling. "Hello, Blaine," she said sweetly. "You and my son have gotten yourselves into quite a mess, haven't you?"

"What happened to him?" Blaine gasped, rounding the bed to stand opposite of Brittany, Santana already at her side.

"Car crash – last night," she said, gazing lovingly at her son, who was waking up.

Brittany reached forward, taking Kurt's hand. His eyes looked like they were adjusting.

"Wakey wakey eggs and bacey!" Brittany sang, juggling Kurt's hand between her own.

"Britt?" Kurt murmured, pulling himself up a few inches. "What happened? Where am I?"

"In the hospital. You got into a car accident. It was pretty bad. This is why I don't have my permit."

Kurt looked down at himself, checking for any permanent damage. His leg was wrapped up, probably broken. His arm, on the opposite side of his body, was in a sling. And if Kurt touched his face, he'd be able to feel stitched wounds.

"Last night was such a blur," Kurt said vacantly.

"You were with me," Brittany said, all smiles.

"Tell me what happened?"

Brittany pulled up and sat down on her legs. "We talked about school, Lord Tubbington, and Santana."

"Who's Santana?" Kurt asked immediately, his brow furrowed.

"What?" Blaine blurted, locking eyes with Santana, who frowned.

"You don't know either? Maybe it's an imaginary friend, like I used to have when I was six. You asked about Santana, and then you also mentioned a Blaine," Brittany explained.

Blaine's heart started beating faster.

Kurt cocked his head to the side. "Um, Britt, I don't know those people."

Blaine missed Santana's sympathetic look; he missed Mrs. Hummel's hand across his back because he was staring at Kurt, feeling numb.

"You don't remember asking?" Brittany questioned.

Kurt shook his head. "No."

"I have to go," Blaine muttered suddenly, pulling away from Kurt's mother and pushing passed Santana.

"Blaine, sweetie!" Mrs. Hummel called after Blaine, down the hall. "He took a blow to his head; of course he'd have trouble remembering some things."

"But not me! He promised he'd never forget me!" Blaine cried, whirling around. She stood there, silent. "He promised!"

"Blaine..."

"You're his angel now, aren't you?" he asked through the lump in his throat. Mrs. Hummel casther eyes down. "You were right. Your son and I are in quite the mess, and I don't think there's any way to fix this."

"Blaine, you just have to give Kurt a chance to-"

"I just don't even understand how this happened. I don't understand how I'm not an angel, but you are," Blaine said.

Mrs. Hummel approached. She didn't look the way Blaine remembered her; she looked older, more tired.

"I waited," she said simply. Blaine furrowed his brow, confused. "I mean, I was in an in-between, watching over Kurt, watching over you – invisible – for years. But I knew I couldn't leave, that Burt or Kurt would need me. And you, you're in an in-between, too."

"So, Kurt's still going to need me, even though I'm not his angel anymore?"

"Possibly? You've always had a choice, Blaine."

His eyebrows shot up. "I never had a choice. I could never leave Kurt's side, even if I wanted to!"

"Because of the pull? I can feel it. It's actually somewhat annoying," she laughed. "But you did leave, Blaine, didn't you?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, remembering the pain he felt resisting the pull.

"This whole world is complicated, I've come to realize after years of being stuck watching it. Technically, Blaine, you're free. You can stay an angel or you can go and be a human, if you want – you and Santana."

"How?"

"How do I put this simply?" She paused thoughtfully for a few moments. "Angels are programmed differently than humans. Humans want freedom; angels want security. If you'd tell Kurt he'd be stuck to a person for the rest of his life, not being able to live his own, he'd go insane. But that's what you're used to, huh? When you showed yourself to Kurt, that was your choice even though it was against everything you believed in. Each time you did that, your wings changed colors, right?" Blaine nodded. "Let's use Santana as an example. Her wings slowly changed to black, until one day, she disappeared."

"Yes. Do you know why that happened?" Blaine asked.

"I think so. Santana had been hanging on the edge for a while, Blaine. Showing herself to Kurt and the other humans only knocked her over that edge. She wanted out of the angel world, and eventually, she got out. Also, you pulled away, right? Last night. You wanted to be free as well, and now you are."

"Kurt and Brittany forgetting us in the price we play, isn't it? For freedom."

"It is."

Blaine breathed in deeply, shutting his eyes. "I just need to go now, since I can."

As Blaine turned, he heard Kurt's mother say, "Just don't give up on him, Blaine. I never did."

Teaser for Next Chapter:

"You haven't been forgetting things, have you?" Kurt asked Brittany a night ago, when Brittany sneaked over to his room after visiting hours.

"Yeah, actually!" Brittany said, sounding far too delighted by this news. "It's like there are holes in my head."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, when I'm thinking of a memory, it's only giving me bits and pieces. A lot of my memories don't make sense."

"Like they're missing something," Kurt concluded. Brittany nodded.