Hello and welcome!

Title: Life's a Dream
Author: Me
Number of Chapters: 3
Pairings: Klaine

Warnings: Kidnapping

Important author's note!: This story was inspired by the movie Inception. But ONLY inspired. I could not for the life of me try to understand all the rules and technicalities so I'm not using them either. Or the plot. Keep that in mind as you read, okay?

Enjoy!

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high and life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving

"FREEZE! Put your hands where I can see them!"

"You're too late," the tall, blond man said as he was forced to he knees by agent Peterson. "You're too late."

The grin on the man's face made Peterson grimace. "Find Hummel."

"Hummel-Anderson," the man said mockingly. "Not just Hummel anymore, not ever."

"The victim's alive!" someone yelled then. Peterson sighed in relief. "Appears to be under the effects of a sedati... Oh. God damn."

"What?"

"He's asleep, chief. They're in his dream."

"Fuck. Wake him up. Do it gently."

"Oh, I wouldn't do that," the blond said. He was still eerily calm, barely showing emotion even though he'd been caught.

"And why is that?"

"He's not just asleep. We put him in a limbo."

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

"How long has been asleep? HOW LONG?!"

"Uh... I don't know. Maybe 3 hours."

"God, shit, fucking... DAMN IT! DON'T WAKE HIM UP! DON..."

A piercing scream shook the building.

"I'm at the airport but all flights to New York have been cancelled."

"It's the snow," Blaine said hoarsely, rubbing his eyes. "The trains are at a standstill, too. I checked."

"I'll get there. I promise, okay? I'll drive if I have to."

How Burt could sound so calm was an absolute mystery to Blaine. His own heart had been beating painfully hard against his chest for hours and hours now and he had only managed a few moments of sleep on the hard benches of the station where he was waiting for news.

"Burt, I..."

"You listen to me, Blaine. Kurt's fine. The police will bring him home to you, you just have to have faith. Kurt's going to need you more than ever when they bring him back so you can't lose it now. Okay?"

Burt's tone was so sure. It was so sure it sounded more like he was trying to reassure himself but Blaine wanted to believe it so bad and tried to let it comfort him.

"Okay," he whispered. "I'll... I'll see you soon."

"I'll see you both soon," Burt said. "Let me know if they tell you anything."

"I will," Blaine promised. "Bye."

He should call Rachel, Blaine realized as soon as he hung up. And Santana. And everyone who had tried to reach him while he had been at the station. But his heart broke even at the thought of having to tell them what he had had to tell Burt so he put his phone in his pocket and promised himself he'd do it later.

He was sipping his fourth coffee in the last two hours, trying to swallow it through the lump in his throat. He couldn't look at the clock, didn't want to know how many hours Kurt had been missing because he knew every minute the chances of finding him got worse. No one tried to stop him as he walked around the missing persons unit of the FBI building , unable to sit still. Whether it was the unseasonably heavy snowstorm or something else that was keeping everyone busy, Blaine didn't care, just as long no one asked him to leave. He couldn't bare to go back into their cold, empty apartment alone, without knowing anything.

The last 47 hours and 19 minutes had been the worst of his life.

"Kurt, where the hell are you? Isabelle said you left over two hours ago! Call me back. Please."

"I'm really getting worried, the weather's getting worse. Where are you?"

"Kurt, it's been over three hours, please, call me back!"

"I promise I won't be mad, just... call me back. Come home!"

"The police called me... Kurt, I am serious, this is not funny! Where the hell are you?!"

"Kurt... please come home. Please, be okay. Please."

He hadn't registered much of what the police told him over the phone, just that they were confident Kurt was still alive. Who and why didn't matter to Blaine, he only wanted Kurt returned to his arms, safe and sound.

He kept going over the details of the morning before Kurt left for work. He had still been asleep but had woken up briefly when Kurt had come to give him a small kiss before leaving. "Enjoy your day off, lazy ass," he had chuckled. "I love you."

Blaine wished he could remember if he had said it back.

"Mr. Hummel-Anderson?"

He stopped on his tracks, looking up from the floor he had be staring at to see a woman in her late 30s. "Yes? Oh God, did you find him? Did you find Kurt?"

The woman sighed. "Mr. Hummel-Anderson..."

"Blaine."

"Blaine... Why don't you come with me?"

Something icy dropped into Blaine's stomach, preventing him from taking a step. "He's... He's alive, right? Please, please tell me he's alive."

"We found him. And yes, he's alive," the woman confirmed and such relief washed over Blaine it almost knocked him over. "But that's pretty much the only good news I can give you right now."

"What do you mean?"

"We should go talk somewhere private."

"I want to see him."

"I'm afraid I must insist we talk first," the woman said.

The authority in her voice was unmistakable so Blaine followed her to a small room in the corner of the station. She motioned him to sit down but Blaine remained standing and thankfully she seemed to understand.

"My name is Helen Peterson. I led the group that found the location of your husband," she began. Her tone was clearly calculated. "As I'm sure they told you over the phone, we were fairly certain of who was behind the kidnapping for at least 6 different people have been taken at the same place."

"I... I didn't..."

"That's alright," Peterson said. "I'm not going to waste your time by going over all the details but I need you to understand that the situation with Kurt is very complicated right now."

Blaine bit his lower lip. "Complicated how?"

Peterson sighed again. "Blaine, are you aware of what of what dream stealing is?"

"I..." Blaine began, frowning. "Yeah, I've heard the term. Why? What's that got to do with Kurt?"

"The people that took your husband never kidnap just random people. We believed they took Kurt to force him into a shared dream and steal information about the management level of Vogue. That's where he works, right?"

"Yes," Blaine said. "What do you mean, believed? That's... not why they took him?"

"This is where things get very complicated," Peterson said. "We had hoped to find him before they even entered his dreams. We were too late, though."

"So they got into his dreams? But Kurt can't be held responsible of whatever they found out, I mean..."

Peterson held up her hand to silence Blaine. "They didn't just get into his dreams. They put him in a limbo."

Blaine blinked. "A... limbo?"

"It's the deepest kind of dream anyone can be forced into. It's possible for a person to literally create worlds there and an untrained mind would never be aware that it isn't real." Peterson paused, clearly to let Blaine take in what she had said. When she continued, her words sounded more calculated. "Of the 14 people this organization has kidnapped, 3 have been put into limbo before your husband. Only one of them was woken up."

"Why?"

"Because it became clear after we woke up the first one that waking the victims up might not be in their best interest."

His head swimming, Blaine finally sat down. "So... so Kurt's still asleep?"

"No."

"No?"

"No," Peterson repeated. "And I have to apologize. It's completely my fault. I should have known when they said he's been given sedatives..." She took a deep breath. "My colleague woke Kurt up because he was unaware he was not just asleep."

"And why is that not in his best interest?"

"The mind moves faster in dreams. The deeper the dream, the faster the mind moves which means that even just five minutes of sleep may feel like an hour in a normal dream. So while Kurt had only been asleep for less than three hours, in the limbo reality that time has felt like decades."

Blaine's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. "D... decades?"

"50 years, give or take a few."

"Oh my God," Blaine gasped out. "Oh... my God."

"You know how you're not always aware of what is real after you've just woken up from a very vivid dream?" Peterson asked in an attempt to make all of this easier to understand.

"Yeah."

"If Kurt had been just a victim of normal dream stealing, it'd be easy for him to remember what is reality because that's how the human mind works. But in the limbo, he's been able to create his life from his own memories instead of someone designing the dream for him so his mind doesn't register the mistakes in the dream the same way."

"So he still thinks it's real?" Blaine clarified. "The dream?"

"Yes. His mind is having a very hard time coping so he has convinced himself that he's asleep now, that this is the dream world."

"And you can't convince him otherwise?"

"We've tried all the normal, every day methods like pinching and knocking him over but nothing has worked so far. There are professionals with him now but even if he does accept this as reality, his mind might still long for the limbo because that's where his mind thinks he's lived most of his life," Peterson explained.

Blaine felt as if his stomach was turning up side down. He leaned back on his chair and put a hand through his hair, tears stinging in his eyes.

"When can I see him?" he asked.

"Soon. But you have to understand, unless he tells us, we'll have no way of knowing what his life in the dream was like. We don't know who his subconsciousness brought there to occupy the dream with him and if he's literally... well, dreamed up new people." Blaine nodded, trying to convince Peterson that he understood even though he couldn't honestly say that he did. "Blaine, we have no way of knowing what his relationship was like with you in the limbo. Or if you were even alive."

A single tear fell on Blaine's cheek. "He might not remember me?"

"That's not exactly how it works. There are a lot of details that would take all afternoon for me to explain but the bottom line is that he does, indeed, remember you, on some level at least. His mind is not the same, though. It might never recover to be exactly the same as it was before. But you are the key for him to recover at all. He and other people he holds the strongest emotional bond with."

Peterson talked softly, trying to make the difficult situation as simple as possible for Blaine. Blaine knew already that he wouldn't be able to process everything right there and then, if ever. All he knew was that he needed to see Kurt, had to know he was okay, and somehow pull him back into the life that was real for both of them.

"Can I see him now?" he asked again. He was trying to keep his over-floating emotions in check but his knuckles had literally turned white from gripping the arms of the chair he was sitting on.

"Do you think you can handle it?"

"I have to be able to handle it," Blaine said. "For him."

"Well, alright then," Peterson said, standing up. "Come with me."

The time it took for Peterson to take Blaine to the other corner of the floor felt a lot longer than the actual five minutes it did take. At the moment before she opened the door behind which Kurt was, the just under 48 hours his husband had been missing stretched into those 50 years that Kurt thought had gone by. An overpowering need to just push pass the authoritative woman almost caused Blaine to do exactly that, but he managed to control himself.

A man in a white coat came to meet Peterson at the doorway and the two of them exchanged a few, quiet words before the man nodded and left without sparing Blaine even a glance. Peterson motioned Blaine to remain out of sight and then opened the door a little further.

"Hello, Kurt. Do you remember me?" Kurt didn't answer Peterson's question vocally but apparently he nodded because she continued with: "Good. I've got someone here to visit you." Another pause. "Your husband."

It was one of the most bitter-sweetly best moments of Blaine's life when he heard: "Blaine?"

And he never had to push through the door because the next thing he knew, Kurt was right in front of him, looking bewildered, delighted, shocked and confused all at the same time.

"...hey."

A quiet sob escaped Kurt's mouth as he put his hands on Blaine's cheeks. It was a relief to see there were no physical signs of abuse on him but as he leaned closer, Blaine could see the distant look in his eyes, like he wasn't quite in the moment. The smile that appeared on his face seemed almost vacant.

"You are so..." Kurt started and it took him a couple of small moments to blurt out: "...young." He ran his fingers through Blaine's hair, mumbling: "What a nice dream," under his breath with that vacant smile on his face that faded in a blink as he suddenly took a grip of Blaine's shoulders, bringing him closer so that their faces were only inches apart. "Blaine, it's gray here. Everything is gray! I don't understand, they say it's real. But it can't be. It can't be. It can't."

Blaine swallowed air. "Kurt..."

"I don't know what is happening but I have to wake up. I'm sure I have over-slept. It's Anna's birthday! We gotta go give her her present."

It broke Blaine's heart to see the pure horror on Kurt's face when he asked: "Who's Anna?"

"No," he whispered, shaking his head. "Not you, too. No, this is MY dream. You're MY husband, you have to know Anna." He took a step back from Blaine, bumping into the wall behind him. "I have to wake up. I have to wake UP! It's too GRAY in here! Why is it so GRAY?!"

There was literally nothing gray around them. The walls around were the color of deep brown and the floor was made of wood. Even New York was slowly being covered by a thick layer of white snow.

"Kurt... Kurt!" Blaine said loudly through her husband's quiet murmuring. "Just tell me who Anna is. Tell me," he encouraged.

"She's our grandchild!" Kurt nearly screamed. "She's Aiden's daughter! Our Aiden's!"

"Our Aiden's?" Blaine repeated thickly. "We have a son?"

"Don't encourage him," Peterson said suddenly. "Talking about it will just make it more real in his head."

"So what should I do?"

"Tell him the truth."

It felt like the cruelest thing he could possibly do but as Kurt slid down the wall to a hunched position on the floor, Blaine knew he had to get through to him somehow. So he knelt down in front of his husband and hooked his finger under his chin, prompting him to look up. "Kurt, we don't have a son."

"Of course we do!"

"No," Blaine said, shaking his head. "No, my love, we don't. Not yet. We've talked about adopt..."

"What did you call me?"

In that second, Kurt's eyes seemed to flash with something that made him just slightly more coherent.

"My love," Blaine said again, causing Kurt to gasp.

"Oh, my God," he whimpered, looking years younger than what he really was. "Blaine?"

"Yes," Blaine choked out because it was the first time that he he saw real recognition on Kurt's face. "Yes, it's me."

Kurt's breathing was coming up in short gasps as he muttered: "The... the subway station. I left work and... I was gonna call you. But then..."

"Hey, hey. It's okay... It's okay..." Blaine said, gathering Kurt into a hug before he got himself too worked up. "It's okay. You're safe now. You're safe."

"No, no..." Kurt sobbed. "Aiden... Aiden, he's still... He's still there, he's waiting for me. For us... And..."

"Kurt, what does Aiden look like?"

Both Kurt and Blaine looked up to Peterson, whose posture was straight and her body language oozed professionalism but her expression spoke of much deeper emotions.

"What?"

"Aiden. What does he look like?" she asked again. "Think. Does he look like anyone else you know?"

Kurt opened his mouth to answer but then he stopped abruptly and he almost gagged as he all but collapsed into Blaine's arms.

"Kurt...? Kurt, what is it, wh...?"

"Finn," Kurt said, so quietly Blaine could barely hear it. "Finn, he looks exactly like Finn."

"Oh, Kurt..." Blaine hugged Kurt closer, unable to hold back his own tears as his husband started to sob. "I've got you. I've got you, my love."

In that moment, the rest of the world melted away and the two of them stayed in that embrace for a time neither could remember.

"Daddy! Daddy, look at me!"

Aiden's laughter echoes in the air, mixing with the music, as he jumps and twirls in the backyard.

Kurt smiles. "Oh, you're so talented!" he praises.

"I'm going to be a ballet dancer!" the 5-year old announces.

"Of course you are." Kurt's smile widens when Blaine's arms wrap around his waist. "You will be the best ballet dancer in the world!"

Aiden squeals while he makes a pirouette.

"He's just like you," Kurt says. "Full of energy. All the time."

"Oh, but darling, you like that I am full of energy all the time."

"I didn't say that I didn't."

The mattress is soft as Kurt falls back onto it, pulling Blaine onto him.

"I want to go home."

"We'll let you go soon but there are a few things we need to discuss," Peterson said. Kurt sniffed and tried to curl up to be as small as possible as Blaine held him protectively.

"Can't we please do this later?" he begged.

"Your husband has gone through a very traumatic experience, Mr. Hummel-Anderson. We cannot simply allow you to leave before..."

"A traumatic experience?" Kurt's voice was a little hysterical as he interrupted the man in the white coat Blaine had seen before. "I just found out the life I've lived for the last 51 years was a dream and that my child does not exist. I'm 24 but the last time I looked into a mirror I was 75. I am sorry but traumatic doesn't even begin to cover it."

"Enough, Harris," Peterson said to cut her colleague off before he had a chance to comment. "Kurt, I will not even attempt to understand what you're going through right now. But trust me when I say that we're thinking only about what's best for you right now."

Kurt took a shaky breath and nodded just barely. Blaine rubbed circles on his back, hoping more than anything that they could just hide from the world in their apartment and stay in bed for three days.

"Something you said, Blaine, must have triggered Kurt to snap out of the limbo completely," Peterson said. "Considering we had little hope that'd ever happen, that's more than a little remarkable. So we're just trying to figure out how you managed to convince Kurt that this is the reality in less than five minutes when a trained professional could not do it in 10 hours."

"Wait, you had him here for 10 hours? And didn't tell me?!"

Kurt winced a little at Blaine's harsh tone.

"It was necessary," was the only explanation Peterson offered.

"Necessary?! How could you...?"

"Blaine..." Kurt whispered pleadingly. Blaine snapped his mouth shut and took a deep breath, tightening his hold around Kurt's waist. Kurt's voice was tiny when he said: "My love."

"I'm sorry?"

"Blaine called me 'my love'," Kurt said a little louder. "I don't like petnames but 'my love' was always special to us."

"The dream me didn't call you that?" Blaine asked.

Kurt shook his head. "He called me darling."

For a brief moment, his eyes went misty but he blinked and the moment was gone. He just looked sad and tired now and he was a breath short of begging when he said, again: "I want to go home."

"We're done here," Blaine decided then. "Just look at him, you can't..."

Everyone jumped when Blaine's phone started ringing in his pocket. He glanced at Kurt before taking it out of his pocket to see BURT flashing on screen.

"Dad?" Kurt gasped, his eyes also on the screen. "Oh, my God..."

"I promised to call him. Shit, he's gonna kill me..."

"He's alive."

Blaine's heart stopped. "Of course he's alive." He offered the phone to Kurt who took it with shaking hands.

"I... Oh, God. Dad?"

Blaine only heard Burt's voice as a quiet mumble but the emotions were so clear in it anyway. Kurt kept repeating 'Dad, dad, dad...' under his breath, his eyes hidden behind his hand until he suddenly tensed and almost screamed out: "NO!"

"Kurt? Kurt, what is it?"

"No, no, no, Dad, please don't go, please, just keep talking...! What? A speaker... speaker phone...?"

Kurt turned to look at Blaine, frowning, but didn't fight when Blaine gently took the phone back from him. He hit the speaker button, greeting Burt with a quiet: "Hey."

"What the hell is going on?" was Burt's less than polite reply.

"They found Kurt," Blaine said, stating the obvious.

"What's happened to him?"

"I'll explain when you come here, okay? Right now we just really want to go home," Blaine said. The adrenaline in his body was slowly fading and he had a sinking feeling that going home would not be the end of anything.

"I finally booked a flight. I'll be there tomorrow morning."

"That's great, Burt."

"You're coming here?"

It took a few seconds before Burt answered with: "Of course, kid."

As Kurt closed his eyes for a second and the tiniest of tiny smiles appeared on his face, Blaine realized something that made his heart feel heavy. He watched as hope, confusion, wonder, grief, longing and happiness flickered so plainly in Kurt's eyes as he, after a minute of assurances and promises, said 'yeah' when Burt said "I'll see you tomorrow."

Doctor Harris was the first to speak after the phone call ended: "So you father was dead in the limbo?"

Blaine wanted to punch him.

"Yes."

"How did he die?"

Kurt swallowed. "I don't know. He was just... dead."

Harris nodded slowly and was just about to ask something else when Peterson interrupted him. "Okay. We're done."

"But..."

"We're done, Harris. We know enough for now." She stood up. "You two can wait here. I'll arrange someone to give you a ride home."

"Thank you," Blaine replied quietly.

"Here's a list of people you can call if you need anything," Peterson continued and handed Blaine a sheet of paper with at least 20 phone numbers, from therapists to lawyers. "I am going to be honest with you, this is not over. Far from it. You are facing a long road of recovery and my best advice to you is to not shy away from the people who are trying to help." Kurt nodded. "I firmly suggest that you start seeing one of the people who's name is on the list. They are highly trained professionals on this field."

Kurt nodded again but Blaine knew him and Peterson had not convinced him to talk to anybody he didn't know.

"Best of luck to you," Peterson said and it sounded like she really meant it. Then she ushered Harris out the door and left the two men alone in the silence.

"I'm so sorry," Kurt suddenly sobbed out. "I'm so sorry, Blaine, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

"No, hey, no... Kurt. This is not your fault. Okay? None of this is your fault," Blaine whispered. He tried to keep himself from shaking as he pressed Kurt against his chest. "We're going home. It's all going to be okay."

It's all going to be okay.

I had a dream that life would be
So different from this hell I'm living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed

I Dreamed a Dream from Les Miserables (English Lyrics by Herbert Kretzmer, French libretto by Alain Boublil and Jean-Marc Natel