Well hello! It's been over a year - sorry about that, but it was the longest year of my life. This will be the last chapter, but there will hopefully be an epilogue coming sometime in the next .. hmm four to five years. I wish I could say I was joking.

I just wanted to say thank you all so much for reading and enjoying and making me feel like I'm a a minor internet celebrity. (I'm really really reeeeeeally not. What I am is a loser.)

This chapter is dedicated to Eriiiiiin :)

I hope you like it and that I haven't disappointed you and yeah. Last chapter of Argument! It's been a bumpy ride (Prisoner of Azkaban anyone?)

When Kevin felt that he had run a far enough distance from the school that he wouldn't be followed, he slowed to a jog, and continued in this fashion until he reached the nearest bus stop to him. Whilst waiting for the relevant bus which would take him to his required destination, he searched the pockets of his jeans to analyse the remains of his possessions, knowing full well that he was accustomed to keeping the majority of his things in his jacket. At the discovery that he had left behind his phone, he swore under his breath.

"Language, son," said a voice from his right.

Kevin jumped, and raised his head in a panic, fully expecting to find himself face to face with Burt Hummel, and feeling immensely relieved and slightly disappointed when he was met instead with the kind brown eyes of an elderly man and, feeling embarrassed, he replied with a muttered,'Yeah, umm sorry.'

He was grateful when his bus approached shortly afterwards which he boarded, feeling confused and very alone.

The world seemed to slow around Blaine as he stood very still, holding the jacket in his steady hands. His vision blurred as he stared at the black handprinted name, undeniable against the white of the label. His brain, having seemingly slowed to a stop at the discovery, was now racing ahead to think up theories, possibilities, ideas, and he barely registered the sounds of two footsteps approaching him in the now empty parking lot until they suddenly came to a halt two feet behind him.

He whirled around, his breathing now fast and heavy, his heart racing and shoved the jacket into the face of the girl standing nearest: Brittany.

"What is the meaning of this?" He snarled.

Santana, who had started forward in defence of her best friend, glanced down at the garment. Her eyes widened considerably in panic once they had found the offensive label, and she yelped and snatched the jacket out of his hands, as if she could shield the truth from him.

He swallowed, not knowing what to think, his eyes darting between the now nervous looking Santana, and Brittany, who was looking a lot calmer.

"Property of Kurt Hummel? Kurt Hummel?"

This was directed at Santana, but it was Brittany who answered.

"Well that is what it says, isn't it?"

Both Santana and Blaine turned towards her, incredulity clear on both faces.

"So, what is this just some freak coincidence, or what, are you going to tell me that he," he pointed behind him in the direction of the gate through which the mysterious man had vacated, voice growing louder and more forceful in anger, "that that man was Kurt Hummel, Kurt freaking Hummel, who's been missing for over a freaking year, who could have been dead," his voice wavered slightly but he ploughed on, needing answers, "for all his family and friends knew, my best friend was missing for over a year, and now you're saying that was him and you've been in contact with him this whole freaking TIME?"

He stopped to take a breath, thousands of questions and demands collecting in his brain, but Brittany who had motioned for Santana to hand her the jacket and had checked the pockets during his outburst, seemingly looking for something, held up a hand and spoke firmly.

"Get in the car."

Blaine exploded.

"What? Why the hell would I do that?"

"His car keys aren't here, meaning he has them, he's going to get his car then.."

"Then? Then what?"

Brittany ignored him, opting instead to hold open the car door, raising her eyebrows pointedly until he sighed and clambered into the back seat, muttering unintelligibly. Santana started up the engine as Brittany got into the passenger seat and they had soon vacated the parking lot, hurtling through the roads of Lima at barely legal speeds.

Blaine sat silently at the back of the car, straining to eavesdrop on the near silent conversation taking place at the front of the vehicle, desperate to find out any new information about the current situation. Alas, the girls, already masters of silent communication, spoke what could not be conveyed by glances in a foreign tongue Blaine could only describe as Brittanglish, and very quietly at that. After fifteen minutes of concentrating so hard on trying to deducing the meaning of the made up language that he was convinced he had burst a blood vessel, Blaine snapped.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on here?! I have no idea what's happening or what's been happening for the past year or where we're going right now or if that guy actually was Kurt, since he was wearing Kurt's jacket and it would be weird if it wasn't him but he doesn't look like Kurt, or what you're planning to do, and also what is that language you were speaking just now and why do you do it so quietly?!

With every question, his speech got louder and quicker as he panicked and by the end he was quite close to hyperventilation when Santana spoke, looking at him in the rearview mirror.

"Breathe, you'll know soon enough. Also, it was English you moron, you know, the language we're using right now? Or are you having trouble keeping up?"

"Weirdo." said Brittany softly, but she turned in her seat to throw him a kind smile and reached out her hand to squeeze his. The gesture calmed him visibly, his eyebrows, raised earlier in panic and alarm, slid down to their natural triangular state with just a hint of a frown between them and his shoulders relaxed slightly, no longer hunched but still tensed. He looked at Brittany with hurt and confused eyes and, with one hand clutched in hers and the other fiddling with his bow tie, Brittany thought she had never seen him more vulnerable.

"Your hand is really soft." he muttered, bowing his head and peering at her through his eyelashes

She smiled brightly back at him.

"It's duck fat."

Having reached the cemetery and approached his black Chevy in the otherwise vacant parking lot, Kevin took out his car keys and slowly opened the door. He knew what he was about to do, and what it meant he was - cowardly, definitely - but he didn't know how he felt about it. On the one hand, he was tired of hiding, on the other hand, was he not too late to just return to his old life as normal? Too much had changed, the day he had left Lima he had made a commitment to this new life - to Kevin Hunter and what he stood for. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, and for the first time in almost a year, was slightly shocked at the man staring back at him. The tanned skin, longer hair. Stubble teasing a goatee but not quite there yet. This definitely wasn't Kurt Hummel. He had changed everything about himself. Why then was his heart so stubborn? He scowled, and scrambled into the front seat, slamming the door behind him.

He switched on the radio and was bemused at the song choice. 'Bad Romance'. It was quite old wasn't it? Not that he was complaining - it was strangely comforting. He whistled along to it as he navigated through the town, taking all the familiar turns and following the road just as he remembered it.. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary just then, not as he was driving through Lima. Not as Bad Romance finished and 'Hey Soul Sister' followed. It reminded him of the drives home from Dalton, and playing the recordings from Warbler practise back in his car just to hear Blaine's voice again. No, everything was exactly as it should be, yes and turn left here...

He turned onto the drive parked the car neatly in a simple manoeuvre. It wasn't until he was undoing his seat belt and opening the door to get out that he realised what he had unconsciously done. He looked up at his father's house, muscle memory having driven the route as if he hadn't been living out for the past year.

Alarmed, he grabbed the seat belt to leave as soon as he could - and yet, as his eyes drank in the details of his childhood home, he could not bring himself to leave.

"I am so gonna regret this." He muttered to himself as he closed the car door and approached the front door, pressing his ear against it for any distant noise within. Silence greeted him - Carole must have a shift at the hospital.

He took a deep breath and picked up the plant pot at the side of the door, and sure enough, the spare key still lay there, despite all the complaining and nagging his father, he had told him - 'Dad, instead of people breaking in, you're actually inviting them in' - and lo and behold here he was, a stranger, in some sense of the word, but did it count as breaking in if he used to live here? Wait, yes. If it was his dad's house? Kind of. If it was the place of residence of his former identity..? Kevin rolled his eyes at himself and turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door swiftly.

He froze in the threshold as the familiar homely scent of the Hudmel household engulfed him. His breaths slowed as he walked into the hallway, leaving the door slightly ajar. His eyes looked over every detail, and he swallowed as he noticed the frames holding pictures of his parents - both of them - on the mantelpiece of the living room, and others with pictures of himself and Finn, and another one of him, and another, and.. It was overwhelming - flattering at best and unnerving at worst - like he had died and these were the only memories of him left. It occurred to Kevin that, concerning Kurt Hummel, that had been exactly what had happened.

The thought gave him a sudden surge of adrenaline, and with blood pounding in his ears, he bounded up the stairs two at a time to observe the rooms above.

There seemed to be more that was different up here, rather than bottles of his moisturiser the bathroom was stocked with numerous brands of hair gel and Kevin smirked slightly as he remembered Blaine's choices in haircare. He unconsciously reached for one of the tubes and flipped open the cap, bringing it to his nose and inhaling deeply, the familiar smell inducing a warm and nostalgic feeling within him. He suddenly felt like a complete creep, and hastily returned it to its place on the shelf, turning to leave - only to find Blaine himself standing right behind him.

He yelled, letting out a string of curse words and slipped backwards on the bathmat, hitting his head on the side of the sink.

He groaned as pain blinded him.

"Fucking second time in three days.. Fucking piece of shit sink..fuck you, argh.."

He rubbed his head and opened his eyes, to discover that Blaine was still there, cheeks quite pink and mouth slightly open. He groaned and closed his eyes again.

"Ahh shit."

Santana huffed as she stood at the bottom of the staircase, straining her ears to try and overhear what was going on upstairs.

"Come on, can't we just go up?"

"No," Replied Brittany firmly. "Let's give them some privacy, and time to talk. I think they've earned that, don't you?"

"But it was our idea to come here-"

"No."

Santana glared at her shoes.

Fortunately for her, she didn't have to wait long before - "SANTANA LOPEZ AND BRITANNY S. PIERCE! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE PLAYING AT?!"

Kevin came hurtling down the stairs, reminding Brittany of the Tasmanian devil in his fury. She spotted a shocked Blaine at the top of the stairs and gave him a little wave.

Santana had gotten over her tantrum and had her bitch face firmly in place.

"What, do you have a tracker on me or something?" Kevin was fuming.

"Ummm...no." Santana considered this very sarcastically.

"One - you are very predictable, and Two - we literally just followed you from the cemetery - which by the way, took you long enough to get there, we were waiting on the side road for absolu-"

Kevin snarled and pushed past her, making for the front door - only to be blocked by Burt Hummel.

"OH COME ON!" He screamed in frustration, and covered his face in his hands, mostly to avoid his father's gaze. When he finally obtained the courage to look up, he was shocked to find that Burt had been followed in by Finn, Rachel, and a rather harried looking Carole.

His breaths were coming faster now as panic started to overcome him, his eyes widened, flitting from one face to the next, and he could feel his face grow pale.

A warm hand from behind him squeezed his comfortingly and he turned, expecting to find Brittany, but gazed instead into warm hazel eyes. He did not remove his hand.

Burt cleared his throat and Kevin remembered where he was and turned back to his father's expectant gaze. He sighed in resignation.

"Can I get a drink first?"

It was a long night. Carole made hot cocoa for everyone and they all camped out in the living room - the New Directions and Wes and David too as soon as they heard the news. They were sprawled everywhere, but all faces were alert and listening to Kevin talking. Kevin kept his gaze on the table in front of him, one hand still held in Blaine's, the other clasped between Burt's, as if his dad was afraid to let go.

Kevin had the only dry eyes in the room - even Puck got teary (and would be mercilessly teased about it for months on end). He spoke in a low voice, and had almost nothing to say for himself, preferring to answer the many, many questions posed to him from different parts of the room.

When Quinn's soft voice asked,

"Are you going back?", he paused.

Both of his hands were squeezed simultaneously at the question.

"Of course he's not going back, he belongs here, he's not going back?"

Finn's panicked cry was more of a question than the firm statement it was clearly intended to be.

Kevin withdrew his hands and fisted them in his hair, still staring at the table.

"I-I don't know."

Et c'est fini..

I don't understand how I can make the last chapter of a story have a cliffhanger when there are no sequels planned, but that's what the epilogue is for I guess - excitement!

As always - please review, gimme some feedback, what you want to see in the epilogue, some fanart maybe, a couple of vials of blood and just generally what you thought. Great!

If any of you want a chat - I met one of my closest friends on this site (yes that's you Erin, I've mentioned you twice, feel honoured) I would like to get to know anyone who wants to get known. (What. Actually what. That sounds so dodgy.)

I have a tumblr - .com

and also a twitter which I recently made - [ ] bumpsofagoose

I have like 20 tweets but they're all quality.

So yeah, if you're still reading, thanks for doing that and yeah! Adieu!