This Chapter Is Likely To Drive You Insane Due To Not Being Realistic. But Use Your Imagination! Love Can Make Strange Things Happen After All.

Chapter Three

'Return To Me My Love'

~oOo~

Three Days To Go

~oOo~

Blaine signed his name neatly on some papers, and then Hermonious gave him a strange drink, which he took gratefully, knowing that whatever it did, he would get to be with Kurt again.

Blaine started to feel rather sleepy, and his eyelids started to feel heavy.

"See you soon Blaine, good luck."

Blaine grunted in response, too tired to form any words.

~oOo~

Blaine awoke in a cold box.

"Cold box," he thought to himself, realizing that he could feel once more. "I'm on earth! Yahoo!"

"But where am I?" Blaine started to knock on the lid of the box, rather frantically, he didn't really care for small spaces much, and he wanted out now.

An undertaker in the room next door, heard the noise and came into the storage room to see what the source of the noise was. At first he brushed it off as rigormortis, but the sound was just far too consistent to be gas release.

He hesitantly followed the sound, to a coffin marked, ''

"Oh the poor gay kid who was in that brutal crash."

He unscrewed the lid and opened the top. He was stunned to find a very much alive eighteen year-old boy.

Blaine leaped out of the box, and stretched, feeling like crap. He lifted his shirt to assess the damage he gained in the accident. Broken rib and lots of bruises. Nothing he couldn't handle. Being at Dalton had broadened his pain threshold drastically.

He turned to thank the undertaker, but when he spoke, no sound came out.

Frustrated, Blaine tried again. Nothing.

He tried clearing his throat, even that made pathetically little sound.

Damn.

So he turned and casually waved to the still startled undertaker, who then proceeded to pass out.

Blaine considered calling a cab, and realized, he could hardly ask, or tell them where he was.

So he left on foot, for Kurt's house.

~oOo~

It was around nine o'clock, and Kurt was home with Finn. His father was doing paper work at work, and Carole working the night shift.

Kurt was curled up on the couch, watching Breakfast At Tiffany's , Finn suggested he distracted himself, and Audrey Hepburn seemed to be a worthy contender. Finn had offered to watch with Kurt, but got bored twenty minutes in and opted of a round of black ops in his room instead.

When there was a knock at the door.

"Finn, are you expecting anyone?" Kurt yelled up the stairs to his step-brother.

"No, might be Burt?"

"He needs to chain that key to himself!" Kurt muttered, walking to the door. He hoped it wasn't his friends, he was sick of everyone tell him they were sorry, and that they cared. They all sounded like broken records. Sorry wasn't going to bring Blaine back.

Kurt slowly pulled the door open, and his legs gave in.

~oOo~

"Ah!" Kurt screamed, quickly covering his mouth to stifle further screams.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" Finn asked, bounding down the stairs, two at a time to his brothers aid. But when Finn reached the door, he too could not believe his eyes.

Blaine was standing at the door.

"What the f-" Finn started when Kurt cut him off, regaining his mental state.

"Blaine?" Blaine nodded in response,

"How? Really? What? But-I-Thought?-" Kurt was cut off by Blaine engulfing him in the biggest bear hug he had ever received.

Finn watched on with furrowed brows.

"Blaine, you were in a coffin yesterday, I saw you. With my own two eyes. How the heck?" Finn interrogated the older boy.

Blaine opened his mouth to explain, but no sound came out. Damn it, this is going to be painful.

"I don't care how you got back, but you're back and that's all that matters, and don't you dare do that to me again!" Kurt slapped Blaine's shoulder playfully, and then stole a small kiss.

Boy-o-boy was it good to feel Kurt's touch again. The small gesture sending butterflies to his stomach.

"But seriously, where have you been? You look sick, come sit down." Kurt led Blaine and a very startled Finn to the lounge, where Kurt forced Blaine to sit down.

"So..." Finn urged Blaine to start talking. But of course, he couldn't.

"Blaine, what's wrong?" Kurt rubbed Blaine's arm soothingly, encouraging him to speak.
Blaine sighed, although it was hardly audible, Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sick?" Blaine shook his head.

"Ok, is your throat sore?" Blaine considered going with that theory, but then considered if Kurt feared he had a cold he wouldn't kiss him. And Blaine wasn't going to miss out on any of that.

He shook his head.

"So can you talk?" Blaine shook his head and gave Kurt a pleading look to understand.

"So you fake your own death, disappear, and now you can't talk to me?" Blaine was getting mad now, and he scrambled to his feet.

He had an idea. Paper and pen. Let's write.

He found a pen and refill on Burt's old writing desk, and jogged back into the lounge, only to overhear Finn and Kurt arguing:

"Finn don t be rude!"

"Rude, you thought he was dead, you were miserable, and he just turns up, and he doesn't even explain why."

"I don't think he's well!"

"Clearly, Kurt, are you sure that's even Blaine?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"He smells like Blaine, he feels like Blaine...he tastes like Blaine."

"Ew,"

"Hey you asked!"

"I think we should call Burt, and a Doctor."

"Why do you care anyways, don't you have some play station game you need to use to fry your brain?"

And with that Finn jumped to his feet, and angrily retreated to his room, passing Blaine on the way.
"You hurt him again, and you'll have me and the glee club on you, like, uh, all over you!" Finn threatened.

Blaine simply nodded.

Once Blaine was seated back on the couch, he showed Kurt the pen and paper, and Kurt's face brightened up.

"Can't you talk, sweetie?" Kurt asked, curiously.

Blaine nodded. "Oh, that makes sense, so where were you?" Blaine took the paper and took the lid off of the pen, and started to write.

Only the pen didn t seem to be working.

~oOo~

If Only Things Were That Simple Blainey-Bear. I'm So Evil.

xxxxxxxx

Jaydee