"Is this a joke?" Blaine asked quietly.

"I wish it was," Wes said gently. "You must have hit your head pretty hard. But that doesn't change the fact that it's 2011 and you're a junior in high school at Dalton. Do you remember any of that?"

"Of course I do," Blaine said. "But that all happened years ago."

"Why don't we have the doctor come in here," David suggested, giving Blaine a wary glance.

"No, it's okay," Blaine said in a rush. He had a feeling that if these guys were telling the truth then Blaine insisting that it was some fourteen years in the future might end him up on the seventh floor in a straight jacket. "I'm sure it was just a vivid dream. It really messed with me," he said with a weak smile. "Where's the bathroom?"

Wes pointed to a door and the guys helped him up. He dragged the IV stand with him and closed the door before looking in the mirror. He held his hand over his mouth to stifle his gasp. His friends were telling the truth. He was sixteen. Again. He had to figure out what the hell was going on. His life had not been a dream. He remembered every detail of his time with Kurt, his job, his wedding, Paris, all of it. How could all of that have been squeezed into some dream? For now, he'd go along with what his friends said and what the mirror said. But he had to figure out how to get back to his real life.

. . . . .

He was released from the hospital and his mother insisted he stay in bed the entire next day. He agreed, remembering her over-concern. He spent a few minutes reacquainting himself with his bedroom. He'd been kind of a boring kid, he concluded. It was fun to see some of the old pictures and trophies; memories that made him smile. He sat at the desk and opened the computer, chuckling at the tremendous size of the laptop. Pulling up the internet, he looked at his bookmarks. Things were so different now than what he was used to. Oh, Facebook! He remembered that site. He could find Kurt there. Quickly typing in Kurt's name, he gave thanks to himself for keeping himself signed onto the site. Otherwise he'd have no idea what the password was. He gasped as Kurt's picture popped up. His husband was beautiful, and just as young as Blaine was now. He scanned Kurt's profile page, his heart sinking when he saw Kurt's relationship status was set at single. It seemed so wrong. He was attending McKinley, involved in the glee club, just as he remembered. Blaine knew he had to see him, know that he was okay, and see what he knew about what was going on with them. He had no idea what Kurt had been doing at this time in the past because they hadn't met yet. But he could check his house and if he got lucky, they'd figure out how to get home.

Throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, he grinned at the collection of bowties he found in his closet. Kurt had been only too glad when he'd finally given up that obsession. Slipping some sneakers on and finding a set of keys, he tiptoed past his mom in her craft room and ran out to the car. That's right, he remembered with a smile. This was his first car. A small sedan; sleek, shiny and silver. His father hadn't put up a fuss, since Blaine had actually shown an interest in cars, his father had been pleased to get him the one he wanted. And Blaine wanted one that went fast. Grinning, he got behind the wheel and backed the car out of the driveway, hoping his mother didn't hear him. He had to chuckle. He hadn't had to deal with his mother in so long, it seemed ridiculous. But this whole reality switch situation seemed real enough, so he wasn't going to take the risk of getting grounded. He snorted at the thought. What bullshit.

As soon as he was far enough down the block, he downshifted quickly and pushed his foot to the floor. He sped through the quiet suburban neighborhood he had lived in as a kid, grinning like a fool. He felt the difference in his body, the youth, the vitality, the feeling like he could stay up all night and not pass out in his husband's lap. He swerved onto the freeway, looking out for cops, but pushing the car to its maximum. He turned on the radio and laughed as he heard "LMFAO" singing "I'm Sexy and I Know It". Shit, music had sure changed over the years. This song was now considered a classic. But he remembered the lyrics and turned the volume up. With the window down, the music loud, and the car speeding towards 80mph, he gave a shout of pure joy. It'd been so long since he got to do this. Living in New York, they had no need for a car. He didn't know if he'd ever get back home, but for now? He was going to enjoy every second of this beautiful machine.

When he pulled up to Kurt's house, his heart was still racing, having put the car through its paces on the rest of the drive. The worry he'd felt at home came back as he approached the door. He hoped Kurt hadn't had a hard time when he woke up here. But they'd work through this together, figure out how to get home.

Ringing the doorbell, he took a deep breath and smoothed his hand through his curly hair. Oh shit, he remembered that he used to gel the crap out of his hair to try and look more normal, to fit in better. Oh well, his Kurt would expect to see him product free.

Burt answered the door and Blaine wanted to rush into his arms. He and Burt had become like a true father and son over the years. Burt occupied the space in Blaine's life that his father had never truly filled. He blinked back sudden tears at seeing Burt so youthful, though he was pale. Was he ill?

Oh my god, he thought. This space in time was right after Burt's heart attack. No wonder he looked so drawn and tired.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Burt, but I'm looking for Kurt," Blaine said. If Wes and David didn't know he was in the wrong time, then Burt probably didn't either, which explained the confused look on the older man's face.

"Who are you?" Burt asked, leaning against the door frame. "And how do you know my name?

"I'm sorry Mr. Hummel. I'm, uh, a friend of Kurt's. He's told me about you. My name is Blaine. I was hoping to talk to him," Blaine said hesitantly.

"He's not here. He's off at the mall with his friends," Burt said wearily. "How come I've never heard of you, Blaine?"

"Kurt and I just recently met," Blaine lied. Burt obviously had no idea what was going on. "I'll go see if I can catch him at the mall."

"Alright then. Nice meeting you, Blaine," Burt said, holding out his hand and shaking Blaine's weakly. "Tell Kurt he doesn't need to hurry home, I'm doing just fine."

"Yes, sir," Blaine said. "Can I help you back inside?" he couldn't help asking.

"What did I just say, kid?" Burt growled, anger coloring his pale face.

"I'm sorry, sir," Blaine said, wishing he could tease Burt like he always did. "I'll be going now."

"You do that," Burt said, narrowing his eyes at him before closing the door.

Blaine chuckled a little. Burt had always been full of piss and vinegar and yet was one of the most loving men Blaine had ever met. Blaine was thankful that Burt never had another heart attack and was living out his golden years with a nice retirement package; Carole by his side.

Speeding his way to the mall, Blaine wondered about Kurt. Was he at the mall trying to figure out what was going on? Did he really feel up to shopping?

Blaine found a parking spot quickly and went into the mall. He knew the stores Kurt was most likely to be at, so he searched them one by one. At the last store that seemed to specialize in scarves, he heard familiar voices.

"Ah, hell to the no, Rachel, do not buy an orange striped scarf. You'll look ridiculous," a female said.

"But it goes with my carousel horse sweater," another voice argued. "I'll look fabulous."

"Mercedes is right, Rachel. You'll look like a freaking orange candy cane. It's fashion suicide," he heard a high pitched voice say. Kurt's voice. A young Kurt's voice.

Blaine's stomach pitched at the sound of his voice. He'd missed him so much in the day they'd been apart. How could Kurt be off shopping instead of looking for him? Not wanting to cause a scene in the store, Blaine paced outside until he heard the threesome coming out the door.

There he was, young and so damn beautiful, Blaine's heart ached. Kurt's cheeks were pink with excitement, his blue-green eyes sparkling, chattering with Mercedes and looking in the bag of scarves he'd just purchased.

Blaine walked up to him. "Kurt," he said. "Are you okay?"

Kurt cocked his head to one side, his cheeks getting redder. "Um, I'm sorry? Do I know you?"

"Kurt, come on, it's me, Blaine," Blaine insisted, reaching out and taking Kurt's hand. "We have to figure out what's going on here."

"I'm sorry, Blaine, but we've never met. How do you know my name?" Kurt asked, his blue-green eyes wary. He slowly pulled his hand away and took a small step back.

"Kurt, please, you have to remember. We're married, we live in New York, we were on our honeymoon in Paris when something happened. I don't know what, but suddenly we're back here," Blaine said, hoping his words would spark some sort of memory.

Kurt's eyes were wide, his face going pale. "As lovely as that sounds and as similar as it is to what I hope to experience one day, I'm not married to anyone. I'm sixteen and still in high school. I'm getting a little freaked out right now, though. So I need to go," Kurt said, backing away toward Rachel and Mercedes who were watching the scene with big eyes and gaping mouths.

"Kurt, please," Blaine said, reaching his hand out to him.

"I, I have to go," Kurt said and turned, hurrying away with his friends.

"Kurt, no! Come back," Blaine said, following him for a few steps.

"If you don't leave him alone, I'm calling the cops and my two gay dads will make sure you get in trouble for harassment and stalking," Rachel said vehemently.

Blaine stopped in his tracks, frozen by what she'd said. Harassment? Stalking? He was trying to talk to his husband. But, his mind told him, if Kurt hadn't come back like he'd done, then of course he would think Blaine was crazy.

He walked out of the mall feeling frozen. His mind was blank. Crawling into the car, he drove blindly for a while before pulling off the road in a deserted area of town.

"Kurt," he whispered, putting his head against the steering wheel. Tears ran down his face as all the hope he'd had for the past day and night disappeared. He was here alone, trapped in this time with no way to get back to the life he loved, the man he loved. And now, Kurt was going to be freaked out every time he saw him. His shoulders shook as he gave into his sobs. Why the hell had this happened? Where was the Kurt he loved, his husband? Why didn't he remember? "Kurt, god, baby, I miss you," he cried out. "I love you so much. Where are you?"

He sat there and cried for a long time, giving no thought to his own situation, only worrying and missing Kurt.

When he arrived home, his parents were waiting for him. They lit in to him for being irresponsible and leaving without permission. Blaine told them where they could stick their rules, something he'd always longed to do when he was a kid. He walked up the stairs, ignoring their gaping mouths and shocked expressions.

That night, he lay in bed, tossing and turning, crying and confused. Life without Kurt was no life at all. He finally fell asleep, his pillow soaked with tears.

. . . . .

"... and they'll continue singing it forever..," a voice sang quietly.

"If you don't shut your trap right now, I swear I'm going to wrap Blaine's IV around your throat and strangle you," an irritated voice interrupted.

Blaine's eyes fluttered open. He saw Wes and David sitting there. David was quietly singing that annoying song, dodging Wes's slaps and punches.

Had it really happened again? He was starting over again?

Rolling his eyes, he sat up, head pounding. He looked at the IV in his hand and the room around him. He had started over again.

"Aw, fuck," he said with feeling.