He sniffed loudly, slowly pulling his face up from her neck. His eyes shut slightly at the sensation of the back of her hand wiping the tears away. He opened his eyes, locking them with hers just for a second before down-casting his gaze.

“Mom?” he asked, still in shock.
His mother was holding him in her arms, comforting him. He had wanted this, needed this, had wished for this to happen so many times and it was finally happening, but how? He felt her shake as he heard the soft giggle he remembered as a child quietly spreading throughout the room.
“Yes honey, I’m right here. What’s wrong?” she replied with a smile
He looked up at her, eyes wide as she smiled at him. He felt dizzy. What on earth was going on? The room started spinning
“But how can you- I thought that you- but- mom you…” With that Kurt fell backward, eyes closing as the room went black.

His head hurt. What the hell just happened? He felt something cold and wet across his forehead.

“Kurt?” He heard what faintly sounded like his father.
“Kiddo wake up,” his father sounding louder as he began to focus.
He opened his eyes slightly. The light from above was blinding him at first but his eyes soon adjusted, focusing on the man wearing one of his usual baseball caps and tire shop shirts kneeling above him.
“Dad?” he coughed
“Son what is wrong with you this morning?” his father asked, unease heavy in his voice.
“I...” He picked himself up and took off the cold rag that was on his forehead. “Dad I swear for a second there that mom-” before he could finish he was cut off by the smooth voice of his mother.
“What about me?” she asked, walking toward her son and husband with another rag in hand.
Kurt rubbed his eyes for what seemed to be the millionth time that morning. How could this even be possible? Last time he checked his mother had died when he was 8 and he had to spend the last 9 years of his life without her.

“Mom,” he started, “how are you even here? I-I thought you were…dead.” His eyes settled on the floor.
He heard a pair of light footsteps coming towards him until a pair of uncovered feet were in front of him. He shut his eyes, as a pair of arms wrapped their way around him.
“Kurt honey, I’m right here. I’ve always been here.” He heard her sniff.
“Mom please, don’t cry,” he begged
Her body quivered with a sob. He couldn’t take this.
“Kurt honey is that why you woke up crying? Is it because you had a dream where I was dead?” she asked.

His eyes widened. There was no possible way he dreamt not having his mother around. There was no way he dreamt of his father marrying Carole and Finn becoming his stepbrother. No. What he was living right now had to be a dream. There is no possible way his mother is standing in front of him, hugging him, loving him. He saw her go through hell when she got sick. He saw her lying on a hospital bed, as thin as ever and as pale as a ghost. He remembered staying at her grave once they lowered the casket in for hours. His mother was dead, yet here she was holding him, claiming she had always been there. If this really was a dream, he didn’t want to wake up. He couldn’t face reality after his fight with Blaine. Not yet. He decided the best thing to do was to play along.

“Yes,” he answered
“Well honey it was all a dream. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere,” she said as she hugged him closer.

He hugged back for a moment before pulling away and hugging his father.
“I love you both,” he said.
His father rubbed his back and squeezed him tightly.
“We love you too kiddo,” his father replied.
They pulled away, and all Kurt could do was stare at his father gazing lovingly at his mother, while her eyes said it all in return. This dream was everything he wanted and more.
His dad went off to the shop for the rest of the day, his mom was cooking, and he was downstairs getting ready. He felt gross staying in his pajamas all day. After a hot shower and his morning skin routine, Kurt found himself thinking about Blaine. He hoped he would hear from him soon. He felt like the world’s worst boyfriend at this point. As his thoughts drifted, he got dressed and made his way to the kitchen. He stopped in the doorframe, taking in the most amazing smell.

“What are you making?” he quietly asked his mother.
“I’m making one of your favorites honey. Guess,” she replied with her soft smile.
Kurt took a deep breath breathing in the aroma of a smell that sent him back to his childhood.
“Mmmm,” he hummed in delight, “Bbanana bread.” His tongue instantly popped out to lick his lower lip.
“Remember that time you climbed on the counter trying to get the flour and you slipped and fell flat on your butt?” His mother giggled slightly. “You cried for the longest time, but as soon as I said you could stir all the ingredients together, the tears stopped and you were out of my lap in seconds trying to climb the counter again to reach the bowl.” She giggled again.
“Mom I was 5 when that happened,” he argued, fighting the blush creeping up his face.
They both erupted into a fit of laughter.
“Oh remember that time Dad tried to cook Christmas dinner while you were in bed with the flu?” he asked bright eyed.
“Of course! He almost burnt the entire house down! That was the only time I’ve ever ordered in for a holiday meal.”
They were laughing hysterically, tears of joy filling their eyes as they recalled some of the funniest Hummel moments to date. The timer on the oven went off, and Elizabeth took out the bread. She set it on the counter top to cool as she made her way to the kitchen table where Kurt was now sitting.
They talked for what seemed like hours. They talked of crazy relatives coming over for birthday parties, times in which Burt had tried cooking but failed miserably, Kurt’s silly childhood antics and just so much more. He asked her questions about her childhood, finding out that she was bullied because of how scrawny she was and how she was as pale as a ghost. He was reassured of her favorite color, which was lilac and her favorite flower, which Kurt had known was a lily but he asked anyway. Things got a bit strange as time progressed.
“Honey, remember that time when you were in middle school and your science teacher wrote me a note that you brought home to me saying that you had singed off some of your hair during a lab experiment? You cried for the longest time and when we went to the hair dresser you complained about the way she cut your hair until it grew back.” His mom smiled fondly at the silly memory.
Kurt just kind of sat there. He remembers going to her grave the afternoon it happened with the note in hand reading it to her and complaining about how the teacher had poor taste in assigning lab partners, due to the fact that Noah Puckerman was the reason his hair had been singed off, as well as her awful taste in clothing. He still couldn’t bring himself to think that this was reality, but how on earth could she be sitting in front of him talking about this? He hasn’t been woken up yet either. Kurt decided that maybe this wasn’t a dream, but if this wasn’t a dream, what about his life where his mother had been dead?
He could hear his mom going on about his life. He heard her mention Mercedes, Rachel, Finn when she brought up his embarrassing crush, Artie, Tina, Mike, Puck, everyone in the glee club was mentioned some way or another as they talked about Kurt’s earlier high school years until now. The only person she failed to mention was Blaine. Why didn’t she mention Blaine? He had come to her grave and told her about him, yet he was in no way found in any story she mentioned or any question she asked about how his friends were doing. This worried him. In this dream or new life or whatever it was he was living, what was happening with him and Blaine?