Author's Note: Due so many requests to do a one shot where Blaine lives, I have decided to give in and write the much more desired ending! So here it is! Finally the one-shot alternate ending to 'I'll Remember'!

And for any new readers, I don't think you need to read the prequel fic to this to understand this one shot, but i would greatly appreciate you giving it a try after you read this. Also, to anyone who was hesitant about reading a character death fic, you can read 'I'll Remember', skip the part where one of them dies, and come here for the happier ending! :)

This one shot would technically take the place of Chapter 9 from 'I'll Remember.'

Hope you all like it. Enjoy!

Anything like this will be referring to a flashback.

*Warning* for some swearing, references to the possible dangers of being in the army, deployment, amnesia, head trauma, and memory loss.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of it's character's. I'm not affiliated with anybody nor will I make any profit from this story. I own absolutely nothing and am just humoring my own insanity. I don't know or own the actors that portray these characters. Everything belongs to Ryan Murphy, Glee, Fox and anyone else that has patent over Glee and it's characters. Everything I know about army regulations and hospital procedures has been taken from the internet! Hope I covered everything I don't own!

~C.

(One-shot)

The time Kurt was called to the hospital because of Blaine was one of the single most terrifying days of his life. After the call, his students watched in bewilderment as their professor abandoned their class mid-lecture and ran out of the assigned room without his book bag. His soldier boy was lying unconscious in a stale hospital bed somewhere, possibly fighting for his life.

"No, no, no," Kurt kept chanting, speeding down the highway as he drove towards the hospital Quinn had called him from. He'd been shot. His husband had been SHOT. Blaine hadn't even been deployed when it happened.

He was in Ohio…he was home.

Training new recruits was supposed to be easy. Being a Senior Drill Sergeant wasn't supposed to be life threatening. "Blaine Anderson-Hummel, you better be alive when I get there, or so help me I will channel my inner Auntie Snixx when I get there."

It took an abundance of self-control for Kurt to not bear down on the gas pedal, tightening his hands on the steering wheel into a white-knuckled grip as he tried to keep reminding himself that becoming a skid-mark on the highway would in no way be beneficial to his wounded husband. Kurt let out a frustrated whine every time he had to stop at a red light, refusing to let the tears flow and cloud his vision. He held in the sobs he could feel growing inside him, only barely able to control the hysterical shudders that threatened to rack his terrified body. At this point, prayer was the only thing that could distract him from his own impending breakdown, the pleadings to an unfamiliar so-called higher being surprisingly keeping him grounded. His prayers, his wishing, his hoping, he never did it for himself. Kurt only even did it for Blaine.

"God help me. I can't lose him." Okay, maybe that one was for himself, but it's just because it's the truth. Life didn't exist for him without his soldier boy. There was no Kurt without Blaine.

Kurt slammed on the break the second he found a parking spot, yanking his car into park before he was scrambling out of the it and damn near sprinting towards the hospital's sliding door entrance. He nearly fell over a wheelchaired patient a nurse was escorting outside, his frame colliding with the information desk in front of him due to his tractionless shoes on the pristine cleanliness of the white tiled floor. The nurse at the desk jumped back in shock when the man rammed into her station, "My word, boy."

"My husband! Please, my husband is here!" Was all he could get out, it was getting hard for him to breath for some reason.

The nurse didn't even hide the disgust on her face. "Husband? How disgraceful can you be to flaunt such atrocity? What on earth—"

"Lady, my husband has just been shot. I am on the VERGE." He emphasized darkly, "I have no time for your bigotry and your small-minded ignorance. Now, TELL ME WHERE MY HUSBAND IS!" Kurt slammed a hand down on the desk in close proximity to the nurse, the woman shrieking at the hostility presented to her.

"SECURITY!"

Kurt was about to lunge at the nurse, demand she tell him where his Blaine was, but a quick hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Kurt!"

He jerked his head to the side, murderous glasz eyes softening when he recognized his friend. "Quinn…"

She smiled at him, glaring over at the nurse who still sneered Kurt's way. "He's with me."

The nurse scowled their way, begrudgingly sliding back down into her seat at being overruled. "Of course he is, Dr. Fabray. My mistake."

Quinn wrapped a protective arm around Kurt's shoulders, leading him to the elevator. "Glad I don't frequent this floor. The woman is one of the most insufferable nurses I have ever had the displeasure of working with."

"Quinn?"

"Yes, Kurt?"

"Just take me to my soldier boy."

His doctor friend nodded, leading Kurt up through the floors and down the hallway that preceded Blaine's assigned room. She had them stop in front of a sliding glass door; the blinds were drawn from the inside. Without Quinn guiding him, Kurt couldn't find the strength to move on his own, rooted to the spot because of how scared he was. What will he find on the other side? Blaine, how hurt will he be? "You can go in. We patched him up already." Quinn gave him a warm smile, reassuring him before she left Kurt to it. "I have a few calls to make, but I'll be around if you or Blaine need anything, okay?"

Kurt nodded minutely, still staring at the obstructed glass. A deep breath, a silent prayer, and then Kurt was sliding the door open. He wasn't even all the way in yet, not when he heard the faintest sound of moaning coming from the only hospital bed in the room. Tears welled up in his glassy glasz eyes, spilling over and tracking down his porcelain cheeks. "Blaine?"

A head of mussed up dark curls emerged from under the crisp blanket. "K-Kurt? You're—What're you—?"

"Blaine!" Kurt rushed to the bed, wanting nothing more than to gather his sergeant up in his arms and hold him close, comfort his wounded soldier. He couldn't. Not when he didn't know where Blaine was hurt. His hands twitched and hovered over the standard sheets covering his love, not sure where to place them, but needed so much just to touch, to look him over and make sure for himself that his husband was all right. "I'm here. I'm here for you, Blainey. I'm right here." Kurt settled for touching his head, softly petting his brunette locks.

Hazel eyes peeked up from the blanket, Blaine flushing and hiding his face into the pillow. He groaned again into the fluffy pillow, the muffled moans jolting Kurt's hand away from Blaine's head.

He started shaking again, little hitches of breath giving way for the sobs about to come. "You're hurt…you're hurt…and I can't—I can't." Kurt sunk to his knees and pressed his head to the mattress, his breaths were becoming shallow.

"Don't cry. Please don't cry." A hand rested on top of Kurt's head, Blaine's long fingers carding through the other's chestnut brown hair. Kurt turned his head to the side, watery blue eyes wide and scared. The paler male reached for his husband's hand, pulling it off his head and pressing the warm olive skin to his cooler damp cheek. "Breathe for me, Kurt, breathe."

"You were supposed….supposed to be…safe here." Kurt turned and kissed the back of Blaine's hand, nuzzling his palm and holding on to it tight. He tried to keep his sharp intakes of breath under control, letting out measured shuddering breaths as he caressed the inside of his soldier's wrist.

"Honey," Blaine wriggled a little, trying to get up on his elbows. He hissed when the movement caused him discomfort, wincing in defeat before he plopped back down onto the bed. It was the first time Kurt noticed his husband had been lying on his stomach.

"Oh my God, oh my God. Blaine are you crazy?!" He scrambled up from the floor. "Stay down. D-Don't move, I'm calling a nurse!"

"Kurt, please calm down."

"Do you need a nurse? Are you in pain? Stupid question, course you're in pain. I should get your doctor."

"Wait, no!" Blaine reached out and caught Kurt by the elbow before his husband could get too far away from him. "I don't need the doctor. I promise I'm fine." He tried to laugh.

That only served to make Kurt shout. "You are not fine! You were shot, you idiot!" Kurt huffed stubbornly in Blaine's direction, narrowing his eyes at the gall his soldier boy had to try and downplay such a thing.

Blaine flushed again, gaze downcast in what looked like…embarrassment? "Shit, who told you? How did you find out?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Quinn, duh! I'm your emergency contact. Who did you think she was going to call? The dog?"

The soldier made an exasperated sound. "I told her not to call you!"

"Why not?"

"Because I didn't want you to worry! She didn't need to call you over a little accident like this."

"Blaine Devon, you are lucky that you currently have a bullet wound. Because otherwise I would knock you upside the head for even thinking that my husband being in the hospital is not something for me to worry about." The blue-eyed male made an indignant noise, then lightly swatted Blaine's head anyways. "I thought the worst…"

When Kurt looked like he wanted to cry again, Blaine pursed his lips into a thin line. "Kurt, don't. Not again. Not over this."

"Well I can't help it! I'm upset." He justified. "You can't stop me from worrying anymore than I can stop you from being a soldier."

"You've said that to me before." Blaine chuckled.

Kurt wanted to kick him. He wanted to yell and scream and berate Blaine for making light of such a serious situation, but it was hard to do when he was so happy, so relieved that Blaine…BLAINE, he was smiling. "That's not fair. You can't smile. I can't hate you if you smile."

That took Blaine aback, "I-I'm sorry. Really I am, but it's true what I said, it was an accident. And I was going to call you…"

"But?" He raised an eyebrow. Blaine felt his cheeks heat up, his face thumped into the pillow as he mumbled something unintelligible. "Uh hun? This is no time for pillow talk."

Blaine turned to the side and huffed, "I said that I was self-conscious."

The professor scrunched his eyebrows together, eyeing his soldier and not quite sure what to make of his answer. "It's not because of me, right? Because of how I would react?"

"Babe…"

"I know I can be a little over dramatic sometimes, but I mean, you were SHOT. How can I not freak out?" Kurt hung his head. "I'm sorry if I've ever embarrassed you in any way, but I promise I'll work on it. Just PLEASE. Don't hide stuff from me like this. I can handle it. I can!"

"What? No, I—" Blaine made a frustrated noise, "Never baby, I could never be embarrassed by you. I love you. Every hysterical part of you." Kurt giggled despite himself, making his husband smile. "There, see? Come on now, how could I ever be ashamed of that?"

"Really?" Kurt pouted, asking in the smallest voice Blaine had ever heard him use.

He nodded, reaching out for Kurt's pale hand and tugging him closer. "You're the most important thing in my life. The best person I will ever know. What you think of me, how you see me, it's the only opinion I care about."

His husband grabbed the chair that was behind him and scooted forward, the closest he could possibly get next his soldier's hospital bed. "I love you. You're…" Kurt laughed a little brokenly, "you're my everything. It's impossible for me to see you as anything less."

"Easy to say when you don't know what an idiot your husband can be."

"Blaine, I married you. Even the idiot part of you." He chuckled when Blaine scrunched his nose up at him, leaning forward and kissing it away. "And I love him just as much," the blue eyed man whispered, dipping down and kissing the other man's lips. Something he's been waiting to do since he walked through the door. Kurt cupped Blaine's face, trailing his fingertips over the olive column of his neck, brushing his thumb softly over his angular cheekbones. He could feel Blaine's eyelashes flutter against him, the lither male pulling back before he was too far gone to remember that his sergeant was in pain and needed to be handled with the gentlest of care. "We promised to always be honest with each other, no matter what. Do you remember?"

Hazel eyes blinked up at him dazedly, nodded against the cool palm still caressing his flushed cheek. "I remember."

Kurt smiled, pecking his lips chastely before settling into his chair and threading one of his hands with Blaine's. "So, what happened then?"

"Well—"

The sliding glass door suddenly opened.

"What up, Sarge! Heard you got shot in the ass!" The semi-fuzzy voice of Jeremiah came from the computer monitor being pushed into the room by Quinn. "Congrats, you have earned the Rear of Honor!"

Jeremiah yelped, Wes's voice chiming in over Blaine's mortified groans. "You idiot, show some compassion. The man has injured his bottom."

"Guess he won't be doing that for Kurt for a while." Jeremiah snickered, David jumping on top of him and sitting on him before he could say anymore stupid things.

Kurt turned scarlet red, slapping both his hands over his face and barely allowing himself to peek through his fingers. Quinn rolled her eyes at the guys' annoyingly persistent pleadings to FaceTime their Sergeant using one of the floor's hospital computers. "As I explained to you boys before you so determinately begged for me to roll you on in here, he merely grazed the upper part of his back thigh. He will be fine and no permanent damage has been done. Save for a light scar, Sergeant Anderson will make a full recovery." She gave a pointed look towards a humiliated Blaine. "As long as he keeps a better eye on those newbie recruits of his. Especially if they're handling firearms."

Blaine blushed crimson, burying himself under the covers to hide. Though he did manage to muffle out, "Yes, Doctor Fabray."

There was a beat of silence, everyone absorbing this new information and Kurt sighing with relief as he pushed his hands up to card through his hair. But of course, "Must be a pain in the ass."

"JERE-FUCKING-MIAH!"

On the screen, Wes and David could be seen dog-piling onto Jeremiah, the computer on their end jostling as they slapped their hands over his mouth. Quinn tutted at them, "Boys! Blaine has been through an ordeal, the last thing he needs right now is to witness you three roughhousing. Either mellow out and shape up, or I will unplug this computer."

The soldiers on screen began to grumble. "Yes, Doctor Fabray," all three mumbled together in a monotone voice.

Kurt laughed breathlessly, glancing over at the tuft of curls peeking out from the covers. The professor gently pulled it back some, smiling down at the sulking face his husband was making at being made fun of. He slipped his hand back into Blaine's, glasz connecting with hazel as he mouthed, 'I love you.'

Blaine smirked back at him, ignoring the sounds of Quinn still chastising his army buddies while he mouthed 'And I love you.'

Kurt stood on shaky legs as he entered the new hospital room, rolling his connection to the IV bag along with him. He held onto Queen for support, the dog sniffing the air when presented with a new place. Blaine's family was downstairs with his own family grabbing crappy cafeteria food, Finn and Rachel being the last people to leave after he convinced them that he just wanted to sleep. Kurt had lied, but he didn't care, not when it meant he could see him sooner rather than later. Against Dr. Fabray's orders he might add.

Queen gave an excited bark, probably recognizing one of the scents in the room. Kurt was barely able to hold the Akita back, reprimanding the dog and causing him to whine in apology. "H-Hello? Who's there?"

The blue-eyed man gasped, glancing up into the dark room and squinting when the bed's overhead light was flicked on. He let his eyes adjust to the dim light, hold loosening on the dog's fur when the man in bed was revealed to him. "Blaine…"

"Do we know each other?" Confused hazel eyes blinked at him, messy shortened curls falling to one side when he tilted his head just so. Dissociative amnesia, Quinn had told him after Kurt had woken up from his own surgery, his head still bandaged from where his tumor had been removed. His soldier's post had experienced an IED, one so traumatic that after his more urgent injuries were patched up, they realized that Blaine had buried everything he knew so deep inside himself that he didn't remember who he was anymore. It'd been an almost impossible feat to get Blaine transferred to the hospital Doctor Fabray worked at, but with her credentials and Quinn being the ball-buster she was, now here he was.

In his gazing, and with Kurt's hand now hanging loosely at his side, Queen had bolted from him. The massive dog jumped onto Blaine's bed, yipping happily at being reunited with his other person. Kurt panicked, expecting Blaine would get scared of the sudden excitement from the overzealous mutt. Instead, his soldier smiled, reaching out to pet and ruffle the Akita. "Hey there boy! Hey, well aren't you just the most awesomest dog ever!" Blaine brightened up, Queen rolling onto his belly and thumping his tail happily. The patient, his husband, looked back over towards Kurt, "What's his name?"

"Queen…Sergeant McQueen, he was…uh…he was a birthday present from my husband." Kurt explained, searching for some form of recognition in the other's eyes. Blaine furrowed his brows, the left one partially singed at the end and steadily attempting to grow back.

"Husband?" Hazel eyes grew sad for a moment, disappointed in something, before he turned his attention away from his guest and back to the playful animal. "Well, you're husband must be pretty cool to give you a gift like this."

"The coolest." Kurt whispered, trying not to cry. "M-My name's Kurt, Kurt Hummel."

Blaine was still petting the Queen, the dog now settled between his forgetful owner's legs and resting his huge muzzle on the soldier's knee. His chest rumbled and his tail swished around lazily, enjoying the scratches he was receiving behind his ears. Again he glanced over at Kurt, looking him up and down, "Kurt…Hummel," Blaine tasted the name, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth in contemplation before letting it slip back out. "Um…nice to meet you. My name's…" He made a sound of discontent. "My name's…"

"Blaine. Your name is Blaine. Blaine Anderson, right?" Kurt moved towards the bed, his IV bag creaking as it rolled forward and bare feet slapping against the clean linoleum. The sergeant watched Kurt glide across the floor, attempting to figure out what to make of him as he sat next to him on his bed. "May I?"

He nodded, scooting himself over to give this man more room. "You know my name. Y-You know me?"

The blue-eyed male had to purse his lips together before responding, holding back the emotional floodgates that wanted to open. "Yeah…Yeah, I guess I do."

Settling back against the pillows, Blaine watched the lither male before him, warm hazel eyes uncertain and sad. "How?"

Kurt swallowed down whatever hurt he was feeling, quickly trying to come up with an answer for Blaine. Quinn had told him that overwhelming the sergeant with too much information at once could do more bad than good, that's why even his parents and Cooper had just been giving Blaine snippets of his life here and there, subtle clues that might jog his memory. So far, they hadn't had much luck. "My husband. You and my husband were close."

His triangular eyebrows shot up, "Really?"

The professor laughed dryly, "Almost as if you were the same person."

Then he pouted, not understanding whatever was obviously an inside joke he wasn't getting. "Oh, so he was a soldier too?"

Glasz eyes shot up at that, "They told you about that?"

Blaine began to get self-conscious, shrinking a bit before he nodded shyly. "Not a lot, just that I was. That the reason I'm like this is because I was hurt when I was deployed somewhere." But then he scoffed, "Those people who claim to be my parents, they said I was a sergeant. Ridiculous."

Kurt frowned, placing a hand below Blaine's knee out of habit when his husband disparaged himself. "You've helped so many people. Saved so many lives. You're amazing, and you've worked so damn hard…you deserve the title of Sergeant."

Hazel eyes grew wide, taken aback by the open sincerity in the stranger's voice, open sincerity that was unbelievable aimed towards him. He glanced down towards where Kurt was resting a comforting hand on his leg, Queen staring up at him with sleepy eyes the entire time, then back up to where shining glasz eyes were fixated on him. It was surprising, the warmth he felt from just the placement of one hand, and it was definitely a first. "I've upset you."

He blinked, "No. No you could never. I just…" Kurt removed his hand, the action tugging at something in Blaine's chest. "I just hate to hear you talk down about yourself." It was really hard for Kurt to keep from crying. "Even after all these years, you still can't see yourself the way I do. And I really, REALLY wish you could."

"What would I see?"

"Someone beautiful." Kurt found himself blushing, unable to believe he just blurted that out like a teenager with word vomit.

"I—what?"

Even when he doesn't know who he is, Blaine still sees himself as less than. "You're worth a lot of things to a lot of people. Present company included." He smiled warmly when Blaine blushed and ducked his head, still the cutest thing ever. "You are vital, you are loved, and you are…" 'Mine,' Kurt wanted to add. But dammit, Quinn's fucking voice rang out inside his head. What if dropping a bombshell really would do more harm? Kurt really couldn't risk that.

"And what?" Blaine asked, his voice whispered and desperate. "What else am I?"

"Everything." He cleared his throat. Kurt was crying, he knew he was crying. He could feel the tears gliding down his porcelain features. "You're worth everything to your family, your brother, your friends…"

"To you?" It was meek and hopeful, hesitant in fear of being shot down.

Kurt smiled shakily, "Yeah, of course. You're everything to me, soldier boy."

"Soldier…boy?" His head then tilted to the side because that phrase, that PHRASE. He knows that phrase, but why?

He shook his head. God, he sounded stupid. Talking to Blaine like he was his husband when at the moment he so clearly was NOT the man he fell in love with, not right now at least. "Sorry, sorry. You and my husband are just so alike, ya know? So when you talk down on yourself, it's like he—my husband—is talking down about himself too." Maybe he should just tell Blaine the truth, stop with the beating around the bush and foot in mouth scenario he's been doing. Who knows, perhaps his soldier would react better than Dr. Fabray would think.

Smooth plastic brushed along his fair cheekbones, Kurt gasping at the sudden coolness and realizing that Blaine's face had moved closer to his own in his musings. Kurt opened his mouth soundlessly, glancing at the beautiful man in front of him and what was touching his cheek. "I've upset you again." Blaine looked like he was struggling with something, his Adam's apple bobbing and his eyes welling up. "Worse than that I've made you cry."

"No you didn't. It's not because of you, I—" Kurt placed his hand over the plastic touching his cheek, feeling as if someone had punched him in the gut when his fingers curled around the object and he realized what it was. A plastic hand, a prosthetic, his husband had lost his left hand. "A lot's happened. You're not to blame for my sadness."

"Then who is?"

"My husband." It wasn't exactly a lie. "You see, my husband was with you when that horrible attack happened."

His eyes widened. "He was? Is he okay?"

Kurt felt his lower lip trembling, "He's the same as you. Doesn't know who he is." Oh gosh, he was going to cry again. He can't break down in front Blaine, not right now. "D-Doesn't remember who I am." The blue-eyed man closed his eyes as more tears fell, tucking his chin towards his chest.

Queen whined when Blaine moved, huffing before he stood up and laid back down closer to the edge of the bed. He yawned, tilting his head in that puppy-like way of his as he watched his two favorite persons.

Blaine put his plastic hand under Kurt's chin, guiding him back up so he could look at him. "How could anyone forget someone as perfect as you?" The other's breath hitched, eyelashes blinking wetly. "You're husband is a total idiot." Kurt chuckled brokenly. "If you were mine, I'd remember you."

"If only you did remember." He whispered, shivering when the plastic wiped away some of the tears from his heated skin.

His soldier noticed, "Sorry." He self-consciously moved his hand away, "I forgot that this…" Blaine waved his prosthetic, "…this makes people uncomfortable."

He huffed, "Now why would that make me uncomfortable?"

The sergeant blinked, "Be-Because my left hand is gone?"

Kurt snorted, "Then I guess it's a good thing you have one just like it on your right." He picked up Blaine's plastic hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the smooth knuckles. Blue eyes tilted up at him and he smiled, "You are more than an appendage, or a limb. You couldn't lose who you are even if you tried." Kurt nuzzled the cold prosthetic, kissing the back of the plastic hand one more time. "You're still my Blaine."

"Your Blaine?"

Shit. His mouth parted, Kurt's eyes growing wide when he realized his slip. "I-I…" A fractured half sound escaped him, afraid he's said too many things for him to process, pushed the man too far. But all Blaine did was keep his gaze fixed on Kurt, warm melted honey never leaving the brilliant shine of his glasz. There was no fear, no dismissal, just a man emotionally stripped. An open book where Kurt could see all his vulnerabilities, the pain, confusion, and desperation…hope even.

His right hand, his warm hand, came up and cupped Kurt's cheek. Blaine touched his flawless face, brushed against his temples, bypassing the bandage around his head to card his hand into Kurt's soft chestnut hair, drew the pads of his fingers down the other's profile till his fingertips stroked his parted petal soft lips. Kurt turned slightly and kissed the pads of Blaine's fingers, wrapping his paler hands around the other's wrist and emitting the softest of cries. Blaine stared at the man, his own tears prickling, feeling the gorgeous boy's heartache as if it were his own. "I know you. I dream of you." Kurt held his breath. "I remember you."

Fuck it.

That was the last thing Kurt thought before he dipped down and pressed his lips against Blaine's. The soldier was in such shock he didn't move for a full minute, Kurt just hoping and praying that this little display might shock him enough, bring his husband back to him. He didn't dare move, nearly forgot that breathing was essential. But then those lips were pushing back against his, the warm hand on his face moving to grip the back of his neck and to press the both of them closer together. Kurt moaned, letting his soldier guide their movements, completely comfortable with going at his speed because Blaine, BLAINE was kissing him back. It was hesitant sure, but it was so familiar too.

Blaine turned his head just slightly and pried his mouth open the shyest bit, tasting Kurt where he was most palatable. He groaned throatily, ignoring his oncoming headache so he could explore the blue-eyed beauty's mouth more. Their heated kisses were gentle, soft, and full of the promise they made long ago. The soldier wanted more, deepened their kiss even as his lungs begged for air. Blaine teasingly brushed the seam of Kurt's lip with his tongue, sucking his plumped lower lip between his teeth for a quick nip. When Kurt let out the most breathtaking keen, Blaine finally let their mouths pull apart, both drinking in much needed are.

Kurt blinked at his husband languidly, porcelain cheeks dusted pink with a flush and heart thumping with what must be a million miles a minute. The way Blaine was looking at him, his intense reverent stare that set off the recognizable butterfly feeling in his tummy, he couldn't be imaging it. It had to real. "Blaine?"

Sergeant Anderson could barely think, barely keep himself focused on the one in front of him. His head hurt, and his vision was swimming, but he knew his Kurt NEEDED. Kurt was desperate for him, for them. Then it clicked. Everything. And the one thing he knew his husband would take comfort in. Blaine grinned at this man, the one that was without a doubt his forever, "Hey, I remembered."

A/N: I hope this ending was the closure you lovelies needed for this fic. It certainly was for me. This verse was a good run, and I really did love writing this Army!Klaine fic. You guys are awesome, and I'll be back with some new stories, and other fic updates. Till then, please leave a review and let me know your thoughts and your feelings. :)