AN: So this is the third part of what I envisioned as a trilogy, with "Push" and "A Brief Period in the Life of a Telekinetic." It could go on after this, but I'm taking it one step at a time. And I'm actually writing something with an ongoing, coherent narrative, as opposed to a bunch of "snapshot" type scenes strung together! So yay me?

What if...?

Two of the most fascinating words in the English language. Just speaking them or reading them opens all sorts of vistas wondrous and terrible. "What if" is infinite possibility, infinite potential, all squeezed into two words and six letters.

These words can lead you to heaven, hell, or anywhere in between. They can also lead you to places you never, ever imagined even existing, much less going.

For example...

What if you found out that one of your meathead high school tormentors was not only gay like you, but also happened to have frankly freaky telekinetic powers?

What if your overdeveloped sense of decency and compassion led you to help said tormentor, even though you had no idea what you were doing?

What if, along the way, that tormentor, through being forced to be open with you (and honestly, out of gratitude), actually showed himself to be a decent human being when he wasn't being a homophobic parody of what he thought he should have been, and slowly became a friend?

What if he told you he loved you, feelings that were way too complicated to return?

What if the two of you moved to New York City together, even as both of you were unsure how to incorporate psychic powers into the challenges of post-high school life?

What if his powers just kept growing daily, threatening to shatter his tenuous control?

What if the boyfriend of a mutual friend turned out to be an agent for a shadowy organization that knew about people with powers, and offered your telekinetic friend a chance to join them?

What if he took it?

What if he were gone out of your life for five years, with only a false social media presence to constantly remind you of his absence, of the lies you had to tell to cover for him, of your worries over what he could be going through?

What if, slowly but surely, his absence caused you to let go of some of your fears, and actually live your own life?

What if your friend came back?

What would you do then?

"Target's moved."

"You know where?"

"Yeah, Techie got the intel I needed. I should be able to set myself up to make personal confirmation."

"Good. You know what you have to do if he is what we think he is."

"Of course I do."

"Do you? A target this valuable could get other players involved, maybe even other powered individuals."

"Oh, I hope so."

"Don't get cocky. This could be a game changer. Complications could be fatal to your efforts. You know what your priority has to be."

"I know, I know. All I'm saying is that if anyone else does get involved... They'll regret it."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

Kurt Hummel felt the broad, warm chest press against his, and that was how he knew this was real, he was real, he was back, this wasn't a dream... His fingers clutched around bunched shirt material as if he were hanging for dear life from a cliff. His tears were hot, his lungs heaving, but he couldn't even think of stopping. All that was running through his mind were four words, repeated over and over:

He's back he's safe he's back he's safe...

"Dave..." he sobbed, his voice clear despite its being muffled in Dave's shoulder (he had his theatrical training to thank for that). "Dave..."

"What are you crying for, Kurt?" Dave Karofsky's voice was choked and wavering; Kurt didn't have to feel the moisture seeping into his hair to know that his maelstrom of emotions was shared. "I promised you. I promised you I'd come back..."

"Dave... Thank God, Dave..."

"I made a promise and I kept it. I'm back and I'm okay..."

The two held each other for long minutes. While the tears eventually dried and his mind gradually settled down, he could still feel the emotions roiling in his gut, in his heart. But after a while, he was calm enough to finally look his friend in the eye for the first time in five years.

Dave didn't look very different than when he left — maybe a tad thinner. Or maybe some of the softness to him had hardened? Kurt couldn't say. He laughed unsteadily, wiping at his eyes, and said the first thing that popped into his mind. "God, I must look like a mess right now..."

"No, no," Dave said insistently, even as his own reddened eyes and face made him look somewhat of a mess. "You... You look great. As usual."

"Thanks. I just..." He felt the tears welling up again, but he held them back this time. "I'm just so happy you're back..."

"I'm glad to be back. I'm glad Brody and the Agency kept their promise. I'm glad you're okay."

"Look at this place, it's a mess too!" He was starting to babble now, but he couldn't help himself; his adrenaline was still spiking, making him a little dizzy. "You couldn't have told me? You couldn't have warned me that—"

"I wanted to surprise you. Guess it just went a little too well. I didn't realize..." He sniffled. "I didn't realize it'd feel like this..."

"Dave... Oh, my God, Dave..." His voice turned even more high pitched than usual at the last repetition of Dave's name.

"You know... We should do something besides staring at each other, saying each other's name, and crying." Dave's grin was halfhearted and half-formed, but it was there regardless, even if it shook with the effort it took to keep it in place.

"Yes!" Kurt cried. "Yes, we should...! Just a minute! Don't move!" Kurt pulled out his cell phone and went to the kitchen, making sure to keep Dave within his line of sight, as if afraid he'd vanish if Kurt couldn't see him for just a moment... He made two phone calls, then returned to the living room, where Dave was sitting on the couch. "Tell me everything. Tell me about what you've been doing, tell me about the Agency, tell me about your life..."

"Wow, uh... 'Everything' is a lot. I'm not sure where to start, so much has happened..."

"We have all night," Kurt said, "and every day after this if need be. Just start talking, buster." He poked Dave in the chest.

"Hah! I missed you being a bossy bitch."

"Hey!"

Now, the days in which Dave was gone weren't all that bad. In fact, they were good — really good. Despite how much he missed Dave, he had to admit that life was a lot simpler and more relaxing when he only had to worry about himself. It was a realization that led to a lot of guilt-ridden nights, only slightly tempered by the certainty that Dave would have been the first person to want the simpler life for him.

But having Dave back, bantering and joking with him again, released all sorts of rose-tinted nostalgia and — dare he say it? — a feeling of normalcy. Somehow, having a telekinetic friend had become "normal" at some point, and his return felt... right. Dave back in his life just felt right.

What followed was talking — a lot of talking. But for once, Kurt was hardly doing any of it; he was listening to Dave's stories with rapt fascination and attention. Dave talked about the undisclosed location in which he lived (or as much as he could without breaking all sorts of secrecy rules). He talked about Deborah, his fellow telekinetic, about his training. He talked about his friends, his boyfriend (a part of the story that stirred mildly conflicted and confusing feelings in Kurt), about their separation. And as they ate rapidly cooling delivery Chinese, he talked about his studies, his career aspirations, his hopes for the future.

"... I'm kind of in uncharted territory in the Agency," he said as he slurped up a chow mein noodle, loudly like an uncultured heathen. "I'll be one of the first doing this kind of thing, but I really think it can take off. I think it could change the entire way the Agency approaches new talents. I hope..." He picked a stray grain of fried rice off his lip and ate it. "I hope I can make a difference."

Kurt nodded, sipping at a cup of black tea. "It sounds like you're well on your way. But that's wonderful, Dave. I remember when you had no idea what to do with your life..."

"... And it turns out that having powers was only the way to get there, not the purpose itself." He smiled and shook his head. "Man, life is weird sometimes."

"That it is."

Dave exhaled. "Shit, I feel like I've been talking for fucking hours. I want to hear about you now. What the hell have you been up to?"

"What, you haven't been keeping up with my regular Facebook updates?" Kurt asked in a mock hurt tone.

Dave laughed. "Actually, I have a file in my bag that the field agent I'm working with gave me. It has everything you guys have said and everything Fake Dave said online. But I haven't had time to read it over. I just hauled ass over here as fast as I could."

"Stopping only to play 'angel.'" Kurt tsked. "Dave, what did I tell you about being careful? Didn't your Agency training teach you to fly under the radar?"

"What the hell was I supposed to do, leave them there? Besides, nobody believes her."

"But it was on the news, David. Did it ever occur to you that little things like that could very well be how organizations like the Agency track down talents?"

Dave gaped. "Actually... No. Shit, I didn't even think of that. They were always pretty tight-lipped on how they do that, and..." He suddenly broke out into chuckles. "Fuck! I'm not back for even a day, and you're already my sensei again?"

Kurt blinked, then started laughing himself, almost to the point of hysteric tears. That set Dave off too, and it took a moment for the two to compose themselves. "Yes, well..." he finally managed to gasp out after a minute or two, "old habits are hard to break, aren't they?"

"Especially when you're so used to being the boss." Kurt threw a limp noodle at Dave's face; he easily caught it and popped it into his mouth. "Seriously, though, I get your point. But I didn't have a lot of choices. It was like that question with the hiker you asked me when we were in high school. I just... I had to do something, you know?"

There it was again... Simultaneously one of Dave's best and most worrying traits: the urge, the need, to do good for others. It partly came from the weight of responsibility he felt just being a talent, but Kurt was pretty sure that it also partly came out of guilt, and that wasn't acceptable... Especially when some of that guilt derived from him. Not only was it misguided, but Kurt frankly didn't want to be even a sliver of the reason Dave could someday go too far and get himself hurt, or worse. But he also didn't want to throw a wet blanket over a joyful reunion.

He felt sure he'd have time to do it later anyway.

"I'll accept that answer. For now. Moving on... You wanted to know what I've been up to?"

Dave nodded, rapidly and eagerly. "Fuck, yeah."

"Well..." Kurt took a breath, his mental filing system going nuts organizing the chaos of five years of existence. "It's... going okay. It's been a lot of steady progress, which is good enough for now. I graduated from NYADA last year, and I'm actively pursuing the stage. I've got a full time job at Vogue now, so that's another avenue I've been exploring. Fortunately for you, my roommate moved out about two weeks ago, and I haven't found another yet..."

"So Adam wanted to keep his own place?" There was a heavy, smothering silence, and Dave's face immediately fell. "What? Shit, you two aren't still...? But I thought—"

"You know what his lifelong dream is?" Kurt asked, his voice almost a whisper, as if weighed down by the memories. "The reason he came all the way to America for schooling? To be a star on the West End... That's London's premiere theatre district. His intent all the time was to go back to England after he graduated..."

"But I never imagined I'd ever find anything that'd make me regret it, for even a second. I was wrong."

Kurt sniffled, but pressed on as best he could. "He asked me to come with him," he said. "Go to England with him. But..."

"God, Kurt... Don't tell me you said no because of—?"

"No!" Kurt put on his best smile; he hoped it looked stronger and more genuine than it felt. "You conceited ass; not everything is about you, you know!" Dave seemed to relax. Success! "I said no because I'd built too much of a life here already. Because my own dream has always been to be a star here in the States. You were about number 19 on the list, at best." Kurt drained the last of his tea; it was cold and a little bitter on his tongue. "We decided not to try a long distance relationship, and that it would be unfair of either of us to give up his dreams for the other." He saw Dave nod slowly and sadly on the other side of the table, and wondered what exactly he was agreeing with. His story about Jesús stirred in the back of his mind, but he continued. "It was hard for both of us. It remained hard for me for a good long while after he left. But... I'm slowly thawing out. In fact, I cancelled a date tonight..." Kurt immediately winced; he had no idea how that particular fact had escaped him, especially when he'd fully intended to keep it hidden.

But he never could hide a lot when it came to Dave, could he?

"Oh, man, Kurt, I'm really sorry..."

"No, don't be. It was only a second date with a guy one of my coworkers introduced me to. I don't think there's much of a spark there anyway. And you're... You're important to me, you know? Don't ever underestimate how important."

"I... Okay."

"Ah, the Agency taught you obedience, did they? I approve."

Once again, their laughter joined, and god, did it feel good.

"So anyway..." Dave said once they'd calmed down, "what about Rachel and Santana and the others? It's probably all in that file of mine, but I'd rather hear it from you."

"Well... Rachel's doing okay. She graduated too, and she's gotten a role off-off-Broadway already." Kurt hesitated; how much did Dave know about this next part? Either way, he'd be curious, so might as well say. "She and Brody broke up not too long ago. She's still working through that; she still doesn't know why or what happened."

He heard Dave inhale sharply through his nose. Kurt wondered if he was having the same kind of conflicting thoughts and feelings he'd had when he heard. "But... you guys are still safe, right? The Agency's still keeping an eye on you guys, right?" His voice was tight with tension.

"Brody and I... talked the night before he left New York." Kurt remembered the conversation clearly; it was every bit as awkward now as it was then. "He couldn't tell me much directly, but he indicated that... Yes, we'd be protected to some extent, but it would be loose. The Agency wouldn't have the time or resources to give us 24 hour surveillance or anything of the sort, but they'd check up on us and keep general tabs on us. But honestly... He indicated that we'd be considered safe as long as nobody knew about..."

"Me." The word was leaden. "I'm still fucking putting you in danger."

"You couldn't help that, Dave," Kurt said sharply. "Nobody could. This was all decided the moment you were born with powers. The alternatives would have been even worse for you, and maybe me, so there's no sense feeling any guilt about it. I'd hoped that these years and your therapy would've made you realize that I'm in this position because I wanted to be, but apparently not. We'll just have to use our new found time together to make sure that lesson gets driven into your thick skull."

Dave smiled softly, almost tenderly. "Still as stubborn as fuck." Before Kurt could take umbrage at this unfair characterization, he continued. "So go on. What about Santana?"

Kurt smiled. "Ah, there's a story. She and Brittany are married now..."

"About fucking time!"

"And they're living in New York. Santana's drifting a little, still trying to figure out her future, but she's got a few odd jobs and been an understudy. Brittany went to MIT for a while..."

"Wait, what? You don't mean the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, do you?"

"I told you, it's a story. Anyway, she didn't graduate, but she's pregnant with their first child as we speak."

"That's great! So you guys all have your own places now?"

"Yep. But I think they should be our next stop. They'll be glad to see you, I'm sure."

"I hope so." Some of the enthusiasm and joy had rushed out of Dave's voice, and Kurt felt this wild impulse to do anything, say anything, to put it back. It was only natural, he supposed, after all this time apart. "It's been so long... They think they've been talking to me all this time, but they really don't know me at all. And I don't know them..."

"Well, whose fault is that, for putting off your required reading? Again?"

"Sorry, Mom." Some of the humor was back, and Kurt was unutterably relieved. And the fact that Dave had brought up his mother, even obliquely... Perhaps that was an effect of finding so much common kinship, having done so much personal growth, become so much more grounded and adept with his power...

All things Kurt could never have given him, but the Agency, apparently, could. He tried not to feel too bitter, but failed. "Anyway," he said, throwing an evil eye in Dave's direction, "I'll help you catch up. When we all meet, follow my lead and try not to look too surprised if they start talking about anything you should know about, but don't."

"God, I missed this." Kurt looked up; Dave was looking at him with a fond smile. "You giving me orders. But hell, it's just one thing I missed a lot. I don't think I've had real Chinese since I went in. It's... kind of almost like a dream, you know? I'm afraid I'm going to wake up any second now, and it'll only be my second day in the base, and I still have five more years to go..."

"If it makes you feel any better, this is reality. As weird and as dangerous as it is, it's reality. You're free now. You're back where you belong. That's all that matters." Something he just said stirred a thought, a wisp of fear, in Kurt, but he couldn't quite grasp what exactly it was yet. But he probably would, soon enough. "Anyway, you want that last potsticker?"

"Nah, you can have it." Kurt deftly reached out with his chopsticks and plucked out his prize. "So when should we see Rachel and San?"

"Maybe tomorrow," Kurt said through a mouthful of pork. "Right now, I want to catch up with you without anyone else getting in my way." He sighed in satisfaction as he pushed himself away from the dining room table. "Why don't you grab a beer and relax while I clean up really quickly..."

Dave stood. "No," he said, the word quiet but possessed of a strength that instantly prickled Kurt's spine. "Let me. I want to show you..."

"Show me... what?" Stupid question, because his heart was already pounding in anticipation.

"A little of what I learned the past few years."

Without a hint of fanfare, the empty paper boxes stacked themselves neatly atop each other. The cheap wooden chopsticks stood on their end, tapping across the table one after another like twin pairs of marching legs, until they jumped and landed inside the topmost box of the stack. The plates and glasses shuffled together; Kurt inhaled through clenched teeth, but they barely tapped against each other as they gently piled themselves up, not a chip to be seen. Crumbs were swept up as if by an invisible broom. Then, as one, all the items on the table rose silently into the air. The garbage can lid flung open, and the boxes plopped within. The dishes levitated into the sink; the faucet turned on and sprayed them with water. All the while, Dave was standing stock still, his eyes silently following the whirl of activity, but without a single bead of sweat or even frown line on his forehead.

"Uh..." Kurt began, "those actually go in the dishwasher." He barely managed to get the words out, he was so busy being fascinated. Sure, none of this was anything he hadn't already known Dave capable of — or hadn't already seen himself, and under much more impressive circumstances — but there was just something about the grace and ease of the movement, of Dave's casual stance and body language... Even in this simple display ("simple"... what was his life that he could call any demonstration of psychic powers "simple"...?), he could see Dave's massive improvement in his control. When compared to how he began this journey — afraid, lashing out in multiple ways — this, now, for all its simplicity, was incredible.

Kurt felt an entirely (or perhaps mostly) unwarranted rush of pride — if nothing else, because he'd known Dave was capable of this all along. But he'd dispense with the "I told you so"s. For now.

"Oh. Sorry." The dishwasher creaked open, and the dishes slipped into slots in the lower rack, with the glasses upending themselves and settling into the upper. The door slammed shut, sounding to Kurt's ears like a judge's gavel. Dave turned to him, a half-grin on his lips. "That was really easy. Like, no thought required. It... Kurt, man, the power... I can control it now, and it feels awesome. I can do so much, and..." Dave's eyes began to glisten. "You were right. You were right all the time. This... this gift of mine, it's... It's truly a part of me now, and I have you to thank for that."

Kurt shook his head — partly to hold back his own emotion. "I didn't do any of it, Dave. You did, and the Agency."

"No, you taught me it was possible. You held me together until the Agency could find me. You made my life better in ways that had nothing to do with my power, and..." He turned away, but Kurt could see him wipe his eyes on his arm. "You've done so much for me I can never repay..."

When Kurt finally figured out a response, it was delivered with calm and evenness that he didn't really feel (hooray for acting lessons). "Well, I know one way you can start: sit down with me and talk. We have still have a lot to catch up on."

"Anything for you."

Too caught up in his own emotions and excitement, Kurt didn't catch at all how sincere those words were. He'd kick himself for that, but only later.

"Ooh, I love this new obedient you! Now come on: I've got some stories about the other former members of the glee club you won't believe. By the time I'm done, you, Mr. Telekinetic, will feel positively mundane."

By the time everything was done, a lot of things happened to Kurt and Dave.

They discovered that someone else they knew was a talent.

Someone else found out what Dave could do.

And another may have known for some time.

They got a small sense of the secret war being fought over powers like Dave's.

At least one of them killed.

Both their lives changed irrevocably. Again.

There would be love.

There would be tears.

There would be death.

But that's life, isn't it?