Blaine was a wreck when he showed up in that room. To this day, Cameron didn't have a solid name for the place. It changed for every person, only appeared when someone new arrived, and was never the same twice from what he had seen. But as he stepped into it to greet Blaine's arrival, he paused. This was Blaine's old bedroom, but much different than how it appeared for Cameron. There was still no furniture, but the walls were clean and a taped up picture was hung right next to the open closet.

It took him speaking to finally get Blaine to stop his rambling and what he said shocked his young grandson.

"Don't ever apologize for that, because falling in love was exactly what you were supposed to do."

Blaine sat up with Thomas's help and blinked under the bright ceiling lamp. "It's–what? I don't understand."

"It's all rather complicated, bud, and we don't have a lot of time to explain," Cameron said. He looked Blaine over then, took in the sharper contours of his face, the little stubbly hairs poking up along his jaw. His youngest grandson was growing up now. "Come here."

At first, Blaine stiffened in his hug. Cameron held him close, though, one hand on the back of his head and the other around his shoulders tight. "I am so proud of you. You've done wonderfully."

Cameron let go and looked at Blaine again. This was his last chance at this, and this time, he wasn't going to miss it. "I never took the time to apologize for how I acted all those years ago," he started, his hand still messing with Blaine's hair. "For a long time, the thought never even crossed my mind, and I'm sorry for that, too. I wasn't the best grandfather to any of you, here or there, and I'm sorry. But I do love you, more than anything, and I know saying it now doesn't make up for our lives or our time here, but it's the only truth I can give you."

"That's–" Blaine coughed and took a shaky breath. "Thank you, that means more than–thanks. Really. But Kurt–"

Cameron and Thomas both chuckled and helped Blaine into a little chair across the room.

"Can't deter you for long, can we?" Thomas said. "He's taking you to the hospital right now."

"Oh." Blaine faltered and swallowed.

"It's all right. He'll be okay. We've got a few things to talk about before you go Beyond, okay? And they're important, so try to pay attention because it's going to be really hard to focus soon."

"Hard to focus? Why would it be– ugh." Blaine groaned and rubbed his head as Thomas squatted down in front of him.

"Well, first," Thomas said, "your room looks much better than it did. So congratulations on getting through what's been holding you here. That talk with Lee was tough."

Blaine nodded weakly as tears continued to cloud his eyes.

"Second up is your Beyond, and for you there's a few options," Thomas continued. Blaine looked up then, still a little cloudy in the eyes, both from tears and the pull. "I've never told you what my Beyond was, or that I've reached it, even though you asked."

"You're Beyond?"

Thomas nodded as Cameron squatted down next to him.

"But we're Between. That doesn't–"

"Make any sense," Cameron agreed. "That's what I said. Funny thing with Beyond, as I've learned since you left. It doesn't mean the same thing for everyone. Thomas's was to stay here and continue helping people, mine is moving on after today, and yours..."

"Yours is something quite special," Thomas said. He pulled a little paper out of his pocket for Blaine. "This is your list of Soulmates."

Cameron watched Blaine take it with trembling hands, saw the amazement in his eyes as he read the only name listed.

"Me and Kurt are–we're–so I was sent back to meet him–my Soulmate?"

Thomas nodded. "That's why you met him when he was a boy, too, but when his marker stopped, things changed fast."

"You're both it for each other," Cameron said at Blaine's puzzled expression. "You and Kurt are one in a trillion, champ, so we sent you back to him."

"So that you could rip us away from each other?" Blaine demanded, his voice suddenly high and tight. "What's the point of hurting him like this? Wouldn't it be better to never have us meet than to put him through this?"

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Cameron said quickly as Thomas caught Blaine's arm and kept him in his chair. "You're tired, you're hurt, and you're missing the point."

"I'm not hurt, I'm dead. And what point?" Blaine snapped. Then he groaned and clutched his head again. "Am I supposed to feel this sick?"

"Only until you leave here," Thomas said quickly. He looked at Cameron then, who nodded. Time was moving quickly for Blaine and the longer he lingered here, the harder this was going to be. If he didn't leave soon, then he wouldn't leave at all. "You and Kurt are perfect Soulmates, no other match in all of history, but you never would have met if you hadn't died when you did. Come on, you're sharp, woozy or not."

"So I–" Blaine frowned at them. "Time pulled me out so that we could meet? But how would it even know if Kurt hadn't been born?"

"Really?" Thomas sat back on his butt and snorted. "Nine months in linear time and it's like the last fifty years never happened."

Cameron laughed as Blaine groaned and glared at them.

"Okay, right, Time doesn't work that way. So it pulled me at sixteen so that Kurt and I could meet. Got it. But this is still hurting him because I died. Time kicked me out and there's no way back in."

"There's always a loophole, kid," Thomas said simply. "And your one in a trillion is it."

Blaine stared at them like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I'm–but that's impossible. What?"

Cameron took Blaine's hands in his and had him take a long, measured breath. "The moment you two met again in September, with both of your Soulmate markers set, you started living again."

Blaine froze, his mouth dropping open as his eye filled with more tears. It was a wonderful sight for Cameron to see that realization and slight bewilderment settle into Blaine's eyes at his words.

"D-does that mean–do I get to g-go back? To Kurt?"

He squeezed Blaine's hands and nodded. "Yeah, you do."

"I get to–Kurt and I can–" Blaine broke off on a choked noise as Cameron pulled him in for another tight hug. A last hug, really. In a few minutes, Blaine would be gone again. Back in that hospital with Kurt, Burt, Carole, and Finn waiting for him to wake up.

"Sometimes Time is a gift," Cameron told him quietly as Blaine clutched him. "It took you earlier, so that later on you would have a chance to live the life you were meant to have. You've got that now."

It was a few minutes before they broke apart. Cameron found himself starting to tear up as Blaine tried to stand and then swayed again. Life was pulling him back already, away from this place for good.

"So that's why I have to shave now?" Blaine said miserably. "I really hate shaving."

"I'm afraid it's only going to get worse," Cameron told him as he touched Blaine's cheek. "Yours grows like mine did. You'll be shaving twice a day to keep it smooth."

Blaine frowned and rubbed his head. His eyes were started to get foggy and Thomas was looking towards the door for Anita to pop in.

"But, wait. I'm actually seventeen now, right? Am I going to live with the Hummels then?"

"You could, but I think you'll like your other option much better once you get back," Cameron said.

Just then, the door opened and Anita poked her head in. "It's all clear."

"Thanks," Thomas said as Blaine's body started to fade in and out. "Good luck, kid. Don't waste any of it."

"I w-won't, but who–"

"The person who hit you wasn't an accident," Cameron said as Blaine faded more deeply and then was gone.

He stood there and looked at the empty chair until his eyes crossed. Blaine was gone, had struggled his way out of the worst for a second chance he'd never dreamed up.

"You all right?" Thomas asked him.

"Yeah," Cameron said after a moment, and he was. He missed Blaine–missed all of them–but his conscious was clear. Despite everything, Blaine was going to get a chance at a better life–a real life the past couldn't have offered. "I'm ready to go, too."

�

Kurt muscled his way into the back of the ambulance and refused to leave as they loaded Blaine on a gurney. He would be here for these last few moments and nobody was going to stop him. Blaine was unconscious, a few bruises blooming on his shoulder and chest as the medics undressed him and started all of their wires and hook-ups. Kurt clutched his hand and watched both of their arms shake from his trembling.

A man had hit him. An older man Kurt had only caught at a glance as they'd strapped Blaine up. Then they'd packed them both into ambulances and started the drive back to the hospital.

"Hey, it's okay," one of the medics said as she caught Kurt's arm. "He's a little bruised up, but nothing too bad. He's be sore for a few weeks at most."

But Kurt didn't believe her. How could he? This was it. Something unpredicted by these stupid medics was about to go horribly wrong. The monitor they'd just finished hooking Blaine up to would start blaring his death and there was nothing anyone can do.

Through town, onto the highway, and then back off at the hospital exit and still nothing happened. The ambulance was fairly silent as the two medics looked Blaine over, started an IV, and checked his pupils and pulse repeatedly. There was talk over the intercom from the second ambulance, and Kurt listened to that instead. It was easier to listen to talk about someone who wasn't half of his world.

"Called it at four till the hour," a man was saying. "Heart attack while driving from what we can tell. They'll have to do more tests once we get to the hospital. Probably shouldn't have been driving at his age anyway. No license or identification."

Kurt only had seconds to think about what the medic on the radio said before the doors were open and Blaine was being rolled out. Just inside the doors, Carole, Finn, and his dad were waiting. They all looked at Blaine as he went past. Carole and his dad hurried towards him as Kurt's hand from pried from Blaine's.

"It's all right," Carole said quickly. "T-they'll take him back and get him sorted out."

But it was a lie. A lie for appearances and the one medic still lingering by them to check him over. Carole moved forward to pull him into a hug like she had a dozen times before, and Kurt jerked back.

"No, he's–it's– Dad!"

Burt stumbled a little as Kurt dove into his chest. He pressed his face close and let his dad take on his weight as the tears finally started to fall. This was all too soon, too much after not enough.

"Hey, don't shove my–"

"Finn, it's okay," Carole said. "Let's go see where they're taking Blaine while they check Kurt over."

It was a mind-numbing twenty minutes before they finished examining Kurt. He sat on the bed, much like the one his father had vacated an hour ago, and let them poke and press and jab him until they were satisfied that he was healthy. A little shocked, according to the nurse, but perfectly fine. He hadn't been hit like Blaine had, but he couldn't get his stomach down enough to say anything of the sort.

Any minute they would step into his room and tell him that Blaine was gone. That the car had broken a rib and it had punctured his lung like that bat had so many years ago. But the clock ticked on. Another twenty minutes, then an hour. Carole led them upstairs to Blaine's floor, Kurt was shaking with the dread of waiting.

Why hadn't anyone said anything to them yet? There was no way it hadn't already happened. Blaine had been dead for fifty years and nothing could reverse that.

Carole helped him into a chair in a bland, white hallway and told him what was going on.

"He's in recovery right now," she whispered to them. "I'm not–this was supposed to be it, but he's still alive. I didn't get many details, but they're saying he's going to be fine."

Burt's arm tightened around Kurt's shoulders like one squeeze could protect him from shattered hope. "That doesn't make any sense. He's dead. His time was up today and–"

"And for whatever reason, he's still here," Carole cut in.

Kurt glanced at the nurse's station a few feet away as Carole brushed his hair off his forehead. He'd been awful earlier, shoving her away when she just wanted to help.

"Carole, I'm sorry I wouldn't let you hug me."

"What? Oh, dear, don't worry about that right now," Carole brushed his hair away again. "You're scared and hurting and wanted your dad, that's absolutely fine. We're good friends, but I'm not your mother and what you have with your dad isn't something we can build in less than two years, okay?"

"Okay; I'm still sorry."

"I know, honey."

"Excuse me, we need a little more information to call Blaine's emergency contact." A nurse was waving them over and Carole helped Kurt up and then over to the desk. He was still trembling because Blaine was dying all over again while he sat here and did nothing.

"I need a full name. We can't seem to find him in the system," the nurse, Becky according to her nametag, said.

"Blaine Devon Anderson."

"Can you spell those for us? We must have typed them wrong."

Carole spelled Blaine out, then stumbled on Devon.

Kurt corrected her quickly. "It's with an o, not an i. Anderson is with an o, too."

"Ah, there's the problem. My daughter's Devin with an i." Becky typed everything in, asked for a birth date, which Kurt had to pause over because the first year that came to mind was decades ago. "Just a few seconds, and we should get him up."

Kurt said nothing even as Carole set her arm around his back. There wouldn't be anything in the system. Blaine had died decades ago along with all of his records and his relatives. The only one still alive was Cooper, but he was so old he barely existed anymore.

"Aha, there he is." Becky beamed at him. "Blaine Devon Anderson, born October 15, 1993. Originally from Westerville, currently resides at Acorn Drive in Lima. Does that all sound right?"

Carole nodded for him. Kurt was too stunned to speak because Blaine shouldn't be in the system. He shouldn't appear in any records at all.

"I see he lives with his brother," Becky continued. "We'll give him a call while you go in to see him, okay?"

"Kurt? Carole?"

Kurt looked up slowly and found a young doctor watching them. She smiled kindly at them over her glasses. This was it but it was warped and a dream. It had to be a dream. There was no other explanation for what these women were telling him.

Two bruised ribs, a broken arm, a mild concussion. She lead them along the hall, through a locked door, and into a busier section of the fifth floor. Kurt swallowed and tried to breathe as they moved towards Blaine's room. Nothing about this was real. He was dreaming and working himself up over nothing. In a few minutes, he'd wake up in a hospital bed. They'd tell him he'd passed out when Blaine was pronounced dead. There would be apologies and a funeral to set up, but not a lovely boy slowly waking up.

But there was a boy in the room they were left in. A soft, slightly bruised, but breathing boy.

"Kurt, this–I wanna tell you not to get your hopes up, bud, but..."

Kurt inched forward. Blaine was there, with a strong heartbeat on the monitor and a sling on his right arm. He watched the rise of his chest, the little part that always separated his lips, and the flutter of his eyelids.

"Blaine?"

He sat on the edge of the bed and slowly took the other boy's hand. It was warm. Solid, warm, and real. He brought Blaine's knuckles to his lips and kissed each one before leaning over to kiss his forehead.

"Wake up," Kurt whispered as he watched Blaine's eyes shift under his eyelids. "Please, wake up so I don't have to."