There was nothing like the swift, cool wind that played through his brown (now tussled) hair. The feeling of freedom soured through him as the highway stretched on for miles in front of the pale boy. A smile tugged at his lips as a familiar song drifted delicately to his ears, and could not help the eager way his fingers laced around the volume to crank it up higher.

You know the bed feels warmer
Sleeping here alone
You know I dream in color
And do the things I want

The excitement that strummed through his veins made his posture straighten, his head tilt back, and, a fleeting sense of being on stage, allowed for his mouth to be tugged down to belt out the oncoming lyrics.

You think you got the best of me
Think you've had the last laugh
Bet you think that everything good is gone
Think you left me broken down
Think that I'd come running back
Baby you don't know me, cause you're dead wrong

Blue eyes sparkled across the similar blue sky as he lifted his head higher, forgetting all his past choir lessons, and screaming the lyrics out, basking in the pride the song brought him. As the chorus grew closer, the boy, with his black scarf pulling against his neck following the whirling wind out his window, bounced with excitement, feeling the tingle of passion begin to elevate the tiny hairs on his arm.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone
What doesn't kill you makes a fighter
Footsteps even lighter
Doesn't mean I'm over cause you're gone

A sudden blur, a warped image, a crunching of metal on metal, screaming-all the screaming, then: silence. All the silence, the deafening silence that looped around like a skipped record. Black void, on a black stage; hot yet cold and a tingling feeling of loss dripping like a violent IV on his mind.

Words uttered, yet left unspoken on broken lips. What is this? Is someone there? No. There’s no one there. No one is ever there.

Beep.

…

Beep.

Stop that.

Beep.

Shh.

Beep.

Oh my Garland. Seriously?

Beep.

Okay. Okay. Fine.

The lights were immensely too bright when blue eyes gazed over the surface of the tiled walls. Why did everything have to be so- white? Blinking to revert his pupils and gather a sense of place, a soft groan imitated from his, oddly chapped lips (Where was his lip gloss?). What is this?

Beep.

Snapping his head to the side, he glared at the metal beeping monitor that illuminated part of his pillow. His head fell back as pain shot up his spine as he realized, even though the mechanical contraption was annoying as hell and deserved a glare, turning his head that swiftly was not the smartest thing he has ever done.  

Okay. A hospital. Fantastic.

A sudden noise sparked a tingle up the boys spine, and he turned (slower this time), looking down at the mass of curly hair that lay on the cream sheets of his bed. His heart rate accelerated as he realized the noise he heard belonged to the dark curly headed man’s small snore. Adrenaline pumped in his veins, causing for the beeping to increase slightly, as his eyes widened in slight terror.

Fuck. I have amnesia.

A dark shadow lined the sleeping man’s face, illustrating the lack of a razor his face had seen; tired looking red rimmed eyes twitched occasionally as a dream plagued through the boys mind. Yet, even with the half-hazard appearance, this boy was beautiful. And the terror stricken boy, whose blue eyes deepened as time proceeded, had no idea who this man was.

Okay. Okay. Calm down, Kurt, think this through. Start from the beginning.

Taking a shallow breath, he placed his head back on the uncomfortable pillow.

My name is Kurt Hummel. Okay, good. I was born on Mary 27th in Lima, Ohio. Graduated from McKinley High- thank God. I go to school at NYADA in NYC. I’m 23 years old. Last thing I remember… what was it? A highway! That’s right! I was… singing. Singing to Stronger- Oh I love that song. And then- nothing. That’s  it. Oh my God.

Kurt chanced a glance at the still sleeping boy and whimpered slightly.

I can’t remember him! My-my boyfriend? Husband!?

Lifting his hand quickly, ignoring the rush of pain, he stared heatedly at his ring-finger. No band.

Okay. Awesome. Not married. But, what if we’ve been together for years? What if we were happy? I’ve seen General Hospital! Things never work out with amnesia patients! I am a horrible boyfriend.

His shoulders slink down at the weight of it all. If only he could remember something. Slamming his still lifted hand down roughly on the bed, he cursed slightly at himself, before freezing with the sound of groaning and the feeling of weight lifting from his bed.

He slowly turned to the awakening man, and placed his most convincing “doe-eyed-heart-shaped-love” face on. It wasn’t hard to keep up the act when those incredible beautiful hazel eyes met his. A slight tint of green and yellow whirled around the hazel orbs, and Kurt had to force himself to hear the slightly accelerated beeping of the monitor to make sure his heart had not stopped.

“Hi.” Kurt croaked, cringing outwardly at the sound of his hoarse throat. Confusion littered the boy’s face until a gigantic smile stretched over his lips. The faux love-look faded with that look- Kurt could never fake joy when so much happiness was thrown his way on that beautiful face. His curls fought for dominance over his forehead, Kurt almost chuckled at how adorable this boy was when he inched his way closer to the bed.

“You’re awake!” If Kurt thought the boy’s looks were gorgeous, they were nothing compared to this man’s voice. A crisp, deep sound played deep inside Kurt’s ear drum, sending rivets throughout his veins and a gasp to be emitted from his lips. A frown replaced the smile that Kurt automatically missed, and worry sketched into the man’s brow. Kurt was taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor and wished he could slide away from the close proximity.

“Look, I’m…” Pain ripped through the boy’s eyes, silent tears beginning to spread across his eye lid as he grasped tightly to the bed frame, “I’m so sorry.” It was just a whisper; a small, almost unnoticeable whisper that actually had Kurt leaning closer to this unknown man. Kurt didn’t know what to say. Confusion wracked his body, and a state of wonder illuminated his mind.

“Wait,” Kurt’s brain smiled at his voice as it grew to regain his normal octave, wavering only slightly, “Why are you sorry? I mean, shouldn’t I be?”

By this moment, both boys stared at each other in bewildering confusion.

“No, it- it wasn’t your fault.” A whimper ended the olive skinned boy’s statement, and Kurt had to hold back a smile. Even through this whole thing, the boy was still beautiful, still generous, still true. Kurt might not remember loving this boy, but he could definitely fall for him again.

“I don’t see how it’s not. After all, I’m the one sitting in the hospital bed.” Kurt would have lost the bet if someone wagered that the boy’s eyes could get any bigger.

“Isn’t- isn’t that the point?”

“…what? Okay, sorry. I’m really confused now.” Kurt began to sit up straighter when a sudden pain lashed out through his ribs, and a gasp rocked through his body. “Ow. Well, that hurt.” He whispered. A strong hand landed on his shoulder as he tilted himself back to his original position, being lead softly by the other man. Warmth coursed through his body as calloused fingers brushed against his bare collar bone. As the silence dug a hole into whatever relationship these two boy’s had, Kurt stifled a laugh- an embarrassingly bad habit Kurt picked up whenever an awkward moment ensued.

“Look, I’ll just get straight to the point. I’m sure you’re a fantastic man, and an even better boyfriend- I mean with how incredibly gorgeous you are, I’m surprised I could even get you. But, I” Kurt took a steady breath in, “I’m sorry, but, I don’t remember you. Maybe I’m one of those ‘special cases’ though that begin to remember things before the amnesia hit and if you still want to, believe me, I wouldn’t mind starting over? But, as of right now, I don’t even know your name.” Kurt was rambling- that was a bad habit too- and blushing furiously as the man just stared at him.

As two and two were put together in the other man’s mind, Kurt could visibly see the light pop on in his head. Biting his lip, the other man tried- unsuccessfully- to hide a smile. Kurt’s eyes furrowed and he tried to regain his composure, ignoring the fact that the boy gave up on hiding the lift of his lips.

“What?” Kurt snapped when the boy didn’t break the silence, his arms crossing over his chest painfully.

“I’m sorry- I know I shouldn’t laugh but- Look, we’re uhm,” the grin grew slightly wider, “we’re not dating. We’ve uh, never even met properly.” Kurt’s heart officially stopped then, he didn’t care what the mocking monitor beeped beside him- he was dead. This was Hell.

“…Oh.” A deep pink flush spread across Kurt’s cheeks as he fidgeted against the sheets that were wrapped around him too tightly. Was it hot in here to anyone else? Turning away from the curly headed boy, he watched silhouettes strut passed the window, trying to clear his head from the fog that those damn hazel eyes gave him.

“So,” Kurt broke after a long while, turning back to the boy, “who are you then? And what are you doing here?” The question was not one the boy wanted to explain, Kurt could tell, or that he had wished was put off longer, as he cleared his throat.

“My- I’m… my name is Blaine. Blaine Anderson.” Kurt waited for his second question to be answered, but as the boy- Blaine- fidgeted, biting nervously on his lower lip, Kurt knew he’d need a little more prompting.

“Blaine, do you know why I’m in the hospital?” Kurt’s voice was cool and soft, struggling to maintain control of the situation and not go off on this puppy-eyed boy who he had just met.

“You- you were in a car wreck. Totaled your vehicle pretty bad. You’re…” Blaine struggled against the words, staring holes into the sheets, “You’re car was smashed into the median guard rail, the inside compartment of your vehicle crushing completely because- because of the other car. You… you weren’t breathing when- when they got to you.”

Kurt’s breath hitched in his throat as if on cue, fighting the tears that welled in his eyes, he continued to listen to Blaine.

“They- they said that if I hadn’t administered CPR, you’d most likely be…” Blaine trailed off, silent tears beginning to dribble down his scratchy cheek as a slightly malicious grin stretched on his face from the memory. He collected himself before he began again.

“You’ve been out for six days… they said they didn’t think you’d wake with how fractured your skull was, but,” Blaine’s dazzling smile pierced through Kurt once again, and he had to remind himself how to breath, “You’re awake.”

Kurt nodded, memories clicked back into place, as he digested this new information. A silver car, the feeling of spinning, falling, and flying; a sudden crack, then: a black void. Taking a breath, he turned back to Blaine.

“That doesn’t explain you,” Kurt grinned, stretching his hand out and poking the boys’ fingers, “Are you my guardian angel?” Kurt teased Blaine, feeling a blush spread through his cheeks at the thought of being watched by Blaine. When Blaine’s eyes shifted downward again, Kurt bit down on his bottom lip regretting immediately what he had said.

“Not- exactly. See, I’m…” Blaine faltered once again, and Kurt rolled his eyes in slight annoyance- why couldn’t he just spit it out? “I’m the one who hit you.” Oh, that’s why. Eyes widened, Kurt felt himself begin to close off from this new man, then froze. If the man had hit him, placed him in his hospital, why was he here? Why had he given him CPR? What does he want?

“You still didn’t answer my question,” Kurt pushed forward, straightening his neck and jutting his chin out in confidence, ignoring the shocked expression that the curly headed boy returned him, mouth gaping open in stunned silence. “Why are you here?”

“I-I” Blaine stuttered and Kurt couldn’t help thinking it was the most adorable thing he has ever seen, “I wanted- no, I needed to make sure you- you woke up.” Kurt felt a flush overcome him again, and he knew his flip-flopping emotions were not the best for his health right now. Smiling, he took the initiative and placed his IVed hand over top Blaine’s, making the boy look up at him, tears still spilling over his eyes.

“Thank you.”

Two simple words, words that allowed for reality to crash down around them, and for a dream to begin. Their hands clasped to one another, clinging to their hope, their passion, and their doom, and never letting go.