"Kurt? Kurt?" Kurt opened his eyes. Above him was a man who looked suspiciously like Blaine. He had the same messy curls, though they were longer than when Kurt last had seen him. His eyes were exactly the same shade of hazel too. His mind must be playing a cruel trick on him, because it couldn't be Blaine. It just couldn't.

"Are you okay?" the hallucination asked, brows creasing just the way Blaine's used to. "You're dead," he mumbled, sitting up. The hallucination smiled softly. "Do I look dead to you?" he asked. Kurt shook his head, getting up off the floor. "How much did I really have to drink last night," Kurt wondered out loud.

"Kurt, it's me, Blaine." Kurt ignored him. Pretending he was real wouldn't do his sanity any good. "I must be going crazy. That's the only explanation." The hallucination grabbed ahold of him and spun him around. "How did you do that," Kurt asked. "You're not real."

Kurt tried to twist away but the hallucination only tightened his hold. "Kurt, listen to me. I'm. Not. Dead." When Kurt still wouldn't stop struggling, Blaine surged forward and captured Kurt's lips in a kiss. Kurt stopped moving, surprised by the sudden turn of events.

When they pulled back, tears started welling up in Kurt's eyes. "But you have to be. You can't be real. You just can't." Blaine moved closer, wrapping his arms around Kurt, embracing him with strong arms. "It's okay. You're safe. We're safe."

Blaine slowly guided him over to the sofa, pulling him down with him. "Blaine?" Kurt asked, looking up from where his face was pressed into his shirt. "Yeah, I'm here," Blaine said with a small smile. "What happened?" Kurt asked in a small voice, and Blaine's smile fell.

"I – I don't know how much they already told you," he said, looking down at his hands. "They told me you were on a mission, securing an old building or something, when it collapsed." Blaine nodded. "Yeah, that was – that was what happened I guess. I was pretty deep inside when the building collapsed, and I was knocked unconscious, so it took them a while to find me."

"And when they did, my injuries were so bad that they had to sedate me for weeks. And after that I was still pretty banged up. My leg and wrist was broken and I had a severe concussion. Let's just say it took me a while to get my head working again."

"And I – I had lost a lot of memories. Post-traumatic amnesia they called it. Basically I didn't remember any information they might have used to get in touch with someone back home. All phone numbers, addresses, even names. Nothing. Not even my own. I remembered you though. Every little detail. I never forgot."

Kurt smiled sadly. He had so many questions, but he figured he would wait until Blaine had finished his story. And besides, if it turned out in the end that Kurt was in fact crazy, at least he could enjoy his hallucination a little bit longer.

"I was in the hospital for what seemed like ages. I should probably have been sent home, but they had no idea who I was, so they had nowhere to send me. So after about 6 months, once my leg was mostly healed and I was healthy enough, I decided to stay and help out. At least until I regained my memories and could return to the beautiful prince waiting for me back home." At this Blaine reached up and stroked down the side of Kurt's face slowly, as if savoring it.

"So I worked there, for about 9 months, helping out and stuff, while my leg recovered. And then something happened. I can't exactly explain what it was, but one day, I woke up, and I just knew. I knew everything. I knew who I was, and who you were, and Claire, and I knew I had to get back, as soon as possible."

"So I told my officers everything and they were of course very excited that I had regained my memories, but they told me I couldn't get back home yet, due to flight complications or something. So I had to stay there for three more months until I could get back home. I landed this morning, and went straight home to you." Blaine finished his story by looking up at Kurt's face, as if searching them for something.

"I – I don't know what to say," Kurt said finally, breaking the silence. "You don't have to say anything," Blaine promised. So Kurt didn't. They just sat together in silence for a while, until Blaine couldn't hold his question anymore.

"How's Claire doing?"

Kurt looked up, surprised at the question. Though he guessed he really shouldn't be. It was just natural for Blaine to want to know how his daughter was doing after not seeing her for over two years.

"I mean, what did you tell her happened... to me?"

Kurt looked down, biting his lip. "She's doing well," he began. "And I told her you had disappeared. She didn't understand why we had to have a funeral for someone who has only disappeared," Kurt said with a small laugh.

Blaine nodded, about to say something when someone knocked loudly on the door. "Oh shit," Kurt said. "That's probably Rachel and Claire." Blaine shot up, out of his seat. "Claire?" he asked, as if he hadn't heard correctly. Kurt nodded, and went to open the door.

"Hello Kurt, how was your night?" Rachel asked once he opened the door. She opened her mouth to keep talking but Kurt shot her a look that said 'not now Rachel', so she shut up. "What's wrong?" she asked instead. Kurt ignored her, turning towards Claire instead.

"Claire, do you remember when I said that Papa had gone away?" Claire nodded, eyes wide and shining. "Well, look who's back," he said, and Blaine stepped out from the living room.

Rachel's jaw dropped. "Blaine?" she asked incredulously as she took a step forwards. Claire was quicker though, and as usual, Blaine only had eyes for her. She ran towards him, and Blaine bent down and scooped her into his arms. "Man, you're so much bigger than I remember," he laughed. "Papa," she said, burying her face in his neck, not unlike Kurt had done not half an hour earlier.

"It's alright, honey, I'm here," he whispered, trying to calm her down. "It's all gonna be alright now," he promised.

Meanwhile, Kurt could do nothing but stare as the two reunited. A father and his daughter who hasn't seen each other for two years. Everything was perfect. Or at least it was going to be.