It had been years since Kurt had last seen Blaine. Seven to be exact. He'd last seen Blaine when they were twenty-two, the day before Blaine got deported to Afghanistan. Precisely four months before their surrogate gave birth to Blaine's son. Of course they wrote letters back and forth to each other, and Kurt always read Blaine's aloud to little Isaac. They comforted Kurt a lot, those letters, reassuring him that Blaine was still alive, still fighting. Every one was like a breath of fresh air.

That was until one day, the letters stopped altogether. Kurt grew more worried and anxious day by day, until finally, 6 months after the letters had stopped, there was a knock on the door. There was an unfamiliar man there, and Kurt immediately knew something was wrong just by the serious, solemn look on his face. And that's when he told Kurt that Blaine was missing in action. He could feel his heart breaking, crumbling away and withering to nothing. Within seconds of hearing the news, Kurt broke down, tears rushing from his eyes while he screamed at the man for taking so long to tell him and proceeded to slam the door in his face.

Isaac was crying from his crib, but he couldn't do anything. Not with the state he was in. He fell to the floor and sobbed into his knees, the fear and utter despair consuming him, rupturing his soul to the very core. Blaine was gone. Blaine might be dead. Kurt was struggling to breathe properly as his whole entire world came tumbling down. His phone started to ring, the tone blaring loudly and he fumbled with it, loud sniffles mingling with his sobs once he answered.

"Guess who's in New Y-Oh my God, Kurt are you crying?!"

"C-Cooper…" He choked out, his voice raspy and sore from the sobbing.

"I'll be over in two minutes."

And he was. He burst through the door and nearly tripped over Kurt in his haste to find the boy. He fell to his knees and started asking him what was wrong, concern burning brightly in his eyes, and Kurt couldn't bring himself to say it, the words were caught in his throat and he still couldn't breathe. Cooper began to grow more worried, especially when Isaac's crying reached his ears. He told Kurt he'd be right back and went to fetch the little tyke and calm him down. He took him to the living room and sat him down with his toys before going to get Kurt.

Kurt was still being pretty incoherent, and he let Cooper pull him to his feet, albeit very unsteadily, and be led to the living room, where Cooper could comfort Kurt on couch and watch Isaac, who was busy crashing some toy cars into the cabinet, unaware of the state his father was in. Kurt just sat there, shaking and crying until eventually, he felt a piece of paper crumple in his hand, and looked down, seeing an envelope that the man from the door had obviously handed to him. He choked down another sob and shoved it into Cooper's hands and continued to cry into him while the man read it. It wasn't long before he felt Cooper shaking too, trying to hold in his tears, trying to stay strong. Like his brother. Blaine was strong, he had to be, to have gone where he went, to be brave enough to fight, so Cooper should be too, he had to be. Especially right now, for Kurt. No matter how much it killed him to hold in his tears and not cry for his brother.

He enveloped Kurt into his arms and held him tightly, at a loss for comforting words, because he knew he'd sound more like he was comforting himself than Kurt. He couldn't say Blaine would come back, because there's a high possibility that he won't.

That was the worst day of their lives. That was the day they lost the person they loved the most in the world. But life goes on, it stops for no one, and they had to keep going.

Kurt found it hard to cope, especially with Isaac. The constant pain the news brought him was ever present, Blaine in his thoughts twenty-four/seven. Cooper ended up looking after Kurt, who got sick soon after, and could barely look at Isaac without being reminded of Blaine. Eventually, Cooper moved in. He helped out Kurt with Isaac, and they leaned on each other for support. Cooper got a job at a local bar, which also let him earn extra money by performing for them every so often, and Kurt still worked for . At first he'd been absent for a couple of months, but considering the situation, Isabelle had allowed him to take as much time off as he needed. The two worked on separate days, sure to make sure one of them was always with Isaac.

In many ways, Isaac was a lot like his biological father; his dark mass of curly hair, his golden eyes with tiny flecks of green, his oddly triangular eyebrows… but these were only the physical traits. The toddler also had a passion for climbing on furniture, singing (which was usually just a garbled mess of words), and musical instruments (which were again, just banging them with his fists to make noise).

But he was also very different. Like the way he absolutely refused to go anywhere near hair gel ("S'yucky."), he didn't like wearing bowties, and he loved wearing has at every possible opportunity (most of which he stole from Kurt's collection.), whereas Blaine only ever wore them a few times, claiming they were a distraction from the rest of the outfit.

Isaac quickly became the centre of Kurt's world, his whole life shifting to revolve around him, to supply for him, to be the best dad for him he could be, more so than before since he came to the conclusion that Blaine may never come back, so Isaac only had him. Kurt grew accustomed to telling Isaac a story every night before bed about Blaine. The child seemed to go quiet every time he started a story, like he wanted to hear, he wanted to know.

Cooper would always go to bed first, as his way of giving Kurt some space and time alone, while he got some space of his own. They both spent the time thinking about Blaine, what he was like, what could have been. Kurt never moved on, he just couldn't, Blaine was his everything, his soul mate. There are just some things you can't get over, and this was one of them.

But they learnt to live, simply exist at most. Go through the daily motions and pretend they aren't suffering, pretend they don't have big, gaping wounds in their chests where Blaine was. But they had to cope.

That's what it's like on this night. Seven years since Blaine left, five and half since he's been MIA. Isaac was safely tucked into bed, and Cooper was just dropping off in his own room. Kurt was snuggled on the couch with a soft, dark blue blanket and only a few candles lighting the room as he read a book silently, his eyelids drooping slowly. He hoped this wasn't one of the nights where Isaac woke up and clambered down the stairs to tell Kurt that he'd seen a man with him in his dreams. Kurt always had to tell him that it was nonsense and that Isaac was the only man in Kurt's life, to which Isaac would giggle and Kurt would have to take him back to bed and sit with him for half an hour until he fell back to sleep.

Kurt wouldn't have any problem with it if said dreams didn't make him think of Blaine. One time, Isaac had gone on and on about the dream the next day. How this man was pretty and daddy kept saying he loved him.

He just wished he could have this night to himself; without any thoughts of his lost love except the golden band on his finger.

But since when did Kurt get what he wished for?

There was a knock on the door at around nine o'clock, and Kurt groaned and stood up, rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes and wrapping the blanket around his shoulders as he shuffled to go answer it.

He opened it, and there stood a man. Kurt was too tired to take in his looks and just mumbled. "Hello? Can I help you?"

The man said nothing and just kept standing there, his mouth parted slightly. Kurt sighed and then yawned, far too tired for strange men at his door.

"Look, I really don't have time for strange men knocking on my door and just standing there. Just…" He shrugs and goes to shut the door in his face, and that's when he hears it. It's quiet, just above a whisper and so familiar.

"Kurt."

Slowly, Kurt turns back around, unsure of what to expect when he really looked at the man, his heart beating so rapidly he was afraid it was going to burst out of his chest. The man was wearing a clean, plain white t-shirt with an army jacket over it, and army pants to match. He had a harsh jagged scar running from just below his left eye to under his shirt. He also had a deep, severe looking burn mark poking out just slightly on the right side of his neck.

But under all the blemishes, Kurt recognized him. His hair had grown out longer than he'd ever seen it and the tousled curls were to fall freely. He had a light dusting of scruff that made him look a lot older than thirty, even though he was barely twenty-nine. His eyes were the same brilliant golden hazel, yet they seemed to be lacking their once bright sense of innocence, more broken, older almost. And then there was the smile, the small, soft one, casting off a comforting warmth that Kurt's heart had ached for and missed so dearly.

"Blaine." He breathed the name out, a strong sense of certainty in his voice. He knew it was him; it had to be, for the sake of the renewed hope building in his heart.

Then the man's lips tilted upwards more, and his eyes began to water, and in that single look, Kurt's heart healed so swiftly he almost had a stroke.

And then he leapt into Blaine's arms, wrapping his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist, the blanket still wrapped around him. As Kurt lowered his head to ret in the crook of Blaine's neck, he felt Blaine's strong arms tangle around him, supporting him up, giving him the fierce sense of security that neither has felt in years.

Tears sprung to both their eyes as happiness engulfed them, overwhelming them as they clung to each other tightly, afraid the other would disappear again the second they let go.

"…You're alive." Kurt choked out, gripping Blaine as tight as he possibly could.

"I'm alive." He whispered back, softly. "I'm here."

Kurt began to cry harder, his breath stuttering as he tried to find words to say. Eventually he pulled away slightly to look Blaine in the face; to make sure he was really there. He moved one of his arms up to cup his cheek, fully taking in his scars, tracing the one from his eye with his thumb gently. It was deep and the skin was rough, already fully healed as if he'd had it for longer than a few years.

But Kurt didn't care (well he did, but not right this second). Scars or no scars. Blaine was home.

He looked into Blaine's eyes, warm and comforting, despite the tears.

"You're okay?" He asked, trying to blink the tears, only for them to keep pouring down his cheeks.

"I'm okay. I promise."

And that was all Kurt needed to hear.

He lunged forwards and caught Blaine's lips in a searing kiss. It felt like he was transported into another world; a better one, where Blaine never left. His body filled with warmth and love when Blaine kissed back. The warmth and love that Kurt was proud to call home.

When they parted for air Kurt slid his legs down back to the ground while they panted lightly. He took Blaine's hand in his, not wanting them to be apart for a single second. And then, with one last quick peck, Kurt whispered. "Welcome home." And even though his voice cracked slightly, the two words meant a lot to both of them. It meant that Blaine was finally back, and they were both home. Finally.

Kurt led Blaine inside, to living room and sitting them on the couch, their hands still tangled together tightly. Kurt couldn't take his eyes off the man, still finding it hard to believe he was really there.

Kurt finally felt whole again. After seven years of missing Blaine, his soul mate, he was finally home. Kurt couldn't even think properly, his mind was filled with so many different thoughts like It's Isaac's birthday tomorrow and he's having a party, Blaine's back, it's a good thing I never threw out his clothes like Cooper told me to, Cooper's probably snoring so loud I'll never get to sleep, Blaine's BACK, I just kissed my husband for the first time in seven years, wow that sounds depressing out of context, Blaine's ALIVE, why is my husband covered in scars, what's Isaac going to think, oh my god Blaine's never met his son, what the hell, what happened to him? What the hell happened to my husband!?

So naturally, it all came tumbling out of his mouth.

"Oh my God you're really here. You're home. It's Isaac's birthday tomorrow, what am I going to do? Oh fuck what am I doing? You're home, you're alive. I missed you so much. I'm not getting any sleep tonight am I? I really want to kiss you again; I've missed you. What happened? Where were you? Oh God I'm babbling, but I've missed you! Oh please tell me what happened Blaine I've been worried sick. I thought you were dead-" Kurt was talking at the speed of light and was starting to have trouble breathing; on the verge of a panic attack, but he couldn't stop.

"Kurt, whoa, slow down, Sweetie. I'm here, I'm okay, just calm down. Everything's going to be okay, I promise." He held both of Kurt's hands in his, his eyes pleading with Kurt as he took a deep breath, but he didn't look any calmer.

"How can you say everything's going to be okay? How do you know that? You were gone! For seven years, four months and twelve days!" Blaine's heart started to break as Kurt began to sob, tears running speedily down his red cheeks. Blaine moved his hands to cup his face, but Kurt's hands followed, holding them there, still, so he couldn't move them. "How c-can you expect everything to b-be okay n-now? I… Wh-what if you l-leave again? I c-can't… I can't…"

Kurt fell forwards into Blaine, sobbing loudly into his chest while Blaine gripped him tightly, rubbing his back and trying as hard as he could not to cry too. That had happened so fast and Blaine couldn't have stopped it, but it still tore his heart apart. He felt guilt creeping up on him; he'd failed the one person that had kept him going throughout the nightmare he'd been living the past few years. Even with the guilt gnawing at his insides, deep down, he knew it was never his fault. And he had to explain that to Kurt.

"Hey, Sweetie… Calm down. Please. I promise I'm never leaving you again. I promise. I love you and I'm here. And I'm staying. I swear to you that I'll never leave your side again." Blaine kissed his hair softly. Kurt looked up, hiccoughing and trying to blink away his tears as Blaine brushed his bangs out of his eyes. "I'm going to tell you everything, Kurt. Where I've been, what happened. But just know that I'm here, and I'm never ever leaving again." He pecked Kurt's forehead as Kurt's breathing finally started to ease. "You ready?"

Kurt was nervous, of course, but he needed to hear it. He needed to.

He nodded.

Blaine panted heavily after all the rushing he just did get a family of seven civilians out of this house safely. They'd gone off with Sgt Michelson, leaving Blaine to scout ahead with James and Elliot. They were meant to be heading over to another house past the back door and the garden to search for any more surviving civilians, but apparently, Elliot had other plans.

"Come on! Let's loot the place while we're alone!" He grinned, already dropping his gun to shuffle through drawers. Blaine utterly appalled; it was incredibly stupid to put your guard down normally, let alone in enemy territory, which they technically were right now. Plus, looting was against the rules of the army and was a one way ticket to get you kicked. It was shallow and pathetic, and Blaine couldn't believe his eyes.

"Elliot, you can't-"

"Shut up, Blaine, you pussy. Live a little. No one's going to see, you're not going to tell, and we're not going to get attacked. So chill the fuck out." He picked up a bronze antique pocket watch as he spoke, inspecting it closely before slipping the item into his pocket.

Blaine looked to James for help, but immediately saw the temptation in his eyes, even though he stayed beside Blaine, clutching his gun. Despite James' fear, he wanted to loot the place too.

Blaine sighed in defeat. These two weren't his priority and he was about to sink to their level and lose his job. They could do as they please, he wasn't their babysitter, despite his rank being higher than theirs.

"Fine. You guys have fun being sent back home." He frowned as he walked past the two of them and outside. The 'garden' wasn't much to look at. The grass was dead and there was debris all over the ground. Blaine sighed once more and pulled a folded up photo out of his pocket as he walked, vaguely realizing that he was alone, outside and putting his guard down. But none of that seemed to matter as he looked down at the bent photo of Kurt Anderson-Hummel and little baby Isaac. His son, who he was yet to meet. This was what he was fighting for. His family.

He was slowly tracing the photo with his finger as he stepped out of the gate at the end of the garden, smiling softly, when something hit him hard in the chest.

He'd heard the bang and felt the pain, but it he felt like he was in a dream as he fell to his knees, slowly taking in that he'd been shot. He gasped for breath as he shoved the photo back into his pocket and reached for his gun, but he felt something hard hit his head just as he heard a yell. He let out a grunt of pain as he fell forwards, everything going black.

Blaine's head pounded as he blinked his eyes open, his vision blurry. He went to moved but found himself on a chair with his hands tied at the back, he ankles tied to the legs. Suddenly he was wide awake and struggling against his confines, but they were tight and rubbing harshly against his skin.

He realized he'd been stripped of his arm jacket and boots, being left in his sandy coloured t-shirt and socks.

He groaned as he kept trying to free himself while taking in his surroundings. He was alone in a dark, murky room, only lit by a single light above his head. His jacket was thrown on the ground near the door, his I.D tags, his bulletproof vest, his watch and his boots haphazardly thrown beside it.

That's when it began to dawn on him.

Blaine was attacked. He was alone with his guard down, and they attacked him. He was a hostage.

"Shit…"

He didn't have time to start panicking or trying harder to release himself because the door opened and in stepped someone extremely scary looking, his face was battered and he was glaring ferociously at Blaine as another person, a lot smaller than the first came in after him, and shut the door behind him.

Blaine opened his mouth to speak but the man in front of him started screaming and yelling at him in a foreign language and all Blaine could do was sit there, dumbstruck. After a minute or so, he stopped, then turned to the smaller man, who spoke English, but seeming to struggle slightly.

"Uh… Tell us… everything about America's plans…? And uh… maybe we won't kill you?" He seemed hesitant, so the threat wasn't that terrifying, at least until there was a cold, hard force against his right cheek that was so rough, it caused the chair to topple over, sending Blaine with it. The wood of the chair cracked loudly very narrowly missed piercing Blaine's skin. He let out a yell of pain and very nearly screamed.

But he wasn't going to let this get to him. They had him, he knew that. But he could see his watch in the pile of his stuff and he knew his side knew where he was. He remembers specifically Kurt's worries about him getting lost so he'd asked his General if there's a type of tracking device available. It's in the watch. It's only a matter of time before they saved him.

He just had to play along. They wanted info, by the sound of it. He knew nothing and he knew if they found that out they have no use for him. But as he groaned and stared at his crumpled jacket, he saw the edge of a photo sticking out of a pocket.

He had to stay alive. They could beat him as much as they pleased. But he'd be saved eventually. He just had to play along, act as though he was holding back information, and maybe feed them wrong bits here and there.

Anything to get him back home to Kurt and Isaac.

Blaine was yanked back up, the splintered chair with him, and he was upright once more.

"Tell us what you know."

The words reached his ears and he braced himself for more hits; they didn't let him speak the first time they asked, so why would they do any different two seconds later?

But when nothing happened, Blaine breathed out slowly, becoming aware of a metallic taste on his tongue which made him realize there was blood in his mouth. He grimaced and spat it out to the floor. The man that hit him glared angrily, very clearly offended by Blaine's only action.

"I'll-" Blaine coughed, his voice rough from lack of use, as well as the blood that was still in his mouth and dripping down from his open lips. "I'm not telling you anything."

A few words were shared between the men quickly before suddenly Blaine was being beaten. Hard punches and kicks to the chest, face, groin, basically every inch of his body. Blaine could only grunt and whimper as the hits came continuously, his wrists burning against the rope as it rubbed against his skin harshly as his arms twisted, trying to escape it's confines.

The beating went on for what could have been hours, or maybe even minutes, but after, every inch of Blaine hurt and he let out a long, defeated moan of pain when the hitting final stopped. Blaine was covered head to toe in bruises, growing darker and swollen by the second. Blood was slowly slipping down Blaine's forehead and from his mouth, coughing some up and almost choking.

But he had been a fool to think it would be over so abruptly, to allow himself to breathe slowly, to think he'd be okay for a while. But he wasn't going to be okay.

There was a sharp, jagged pain in his right calf, and he looked down to see a knife sticking out of his leg, right down to the handle. Blaine let out a choked gasp as his vision began to grow blurry. He heard some more yelling and a bang as the door slammed shut as he slowly shut his eyes and passed out.

Blaine doesn't know how long it was before he regained consciousness again, but when he did, he was on the cold, hard ground, propped up against the wall. He sensed that he was not alone, so he kept his still tired eyes shut. His every muscle ached painfully, and his right eyes felt swollen and it throbbed. But he could feel someone touching his leg now, finally realizing it was bare, and was seemingly wrapping something around it. It wasn't rough, like he expected, but the hands where a lot gentler. It was odd, considering where he was.

Whatever this person was doing, they were not as gentle as Blaine originally thought and jostled his leg harshly, and a fierce pain shot up Blaine's leg and he let out an anguished yell as his eyes flew open and his hands instinctively moving to clutch his wound.

A woman, no, a young girl, shrieked at his sudden movement and scuttled away from him, her brown eyes wide with fear, her body shaking as she tried to create a bigger gap between them.

Blaine barely noticed as he gripped his calf, remembering the stab wound he'd witnessed before he passed out, and the pain was so intense he nearly passed out again. But he steadied himself, curious about the current situation and wanting to know why there was a girl wrapping his leg in a bandage.

He looked up, coughing slightly, making him away of his sore throat. He hadn't drank anything in days and his lips were chapped too. "I…You-"

Apparently his throat sounded bad too, because the girl grabbed a bottle of water and rolled it across the floor silently, still shaking.

Blaine picked the water up and examined it closely, wary of it because the enemy could have done anything to it. But the lid was still intact, unopened. He opened it quickly and started pouring the liquid down his throat, making a noise of appreciation and relief. When he was satisfied, he placed the lid back it on and set the bottle down, turning his gaze back to the girl, who seemed to have stopped her shaking.

"…Who are you?" He asked softly. This girl was afraid of him, but she seemed to be doing him no harm, so he was doing what he could to find out what was happening.

"Uh…" She looked confused, before pointing to herself and saying, "Fila." Then she pointed to Blaine. "You Amurkan."

Blaine cocked his head to the side. This girl, who was probably only about fifteen, could understand him, to an extent, it seemed. She was called Fila, and she was afraid of Blaine... of all Americans?

"My name's Blaine." She frowned, not seeming to understand completely, so Blaine pointed to himself. "Blaine."

She nodded slowly. She understood.

"What were you doing?" He pointed to his leg to try and get his point across. Pointing seemed to be the way to communicate here.

She bit her lip nervously and looked towards the door before back to Blaine. "I heal. So you no die."

At first, Blaine was confused, but it didn't take long for it strike him. They wanted him alive. They wanted him for information of some sort, or to be a hostage. Either way, he was stuck here and they weren't about to kill him anytime soon.

Blaine groaned and looked over to his jacket, still lying abandoned on the floor. There was no way he was going to be able to walk with his leg wound, and he wasn't exactly prepared to crawl over to it. He stared longingly at it, before Fila got up and picked the jacket up off the floor with hand and dropped it within arm's reach of Blaine.

"Thank you." He says, smiling, honestly shocked. She nods in reply and slowly inches closer, looking at the bandaged leg. Blaine realizes what she's doing and lifts it slightly for her when she reaches him and lets her start to wrap him up, wordlessly.

Blaine sighed and took the now battered photograph from his pocket, sighing. He missed Kurt, and he felt a longing for both his husband and his child. He wanted to go home, and his heart ached with a different kind of pain than the sharp one in his leg. He was distraught, but eager to stay strong. If he lets himself be weak, he may never see Kurt again.

Fila looks up at the photograph, and stares for a long while, her hands stilling on his leg. "…You family?" Blaine nods in reply and watches the girl's mouth twitch, in what seemed to be a sad smile. He was about to say something when he glanced back at the picture, and seeing his left hand, which was holding the item. But it was bare.

His wedding ring was missing.

Blaine started to panic immediately. Did he drop it when he got shot? No, that couldn't have happened, it fit perfectly and would have never slipped. But he couldn't think of anything else unless it was stolen.

It took a second to hit him, but when it did, he felt an extreme surge of anger flow through him. He was enraged, who would do this? This had to be the lowest kind of the torture these sick people had, and Blaine had to do something. Now. He couldn't just sit around waiting for something to happen. He had to get out, and he had to get his ring.

He tried to push himself up, startling Fila who shuffled away again, but when he was only part way to his feet, his leg gave out and he collapsed to the floor again, scraping his palms against the stone floor.

Just as he was about to pick himself up and try again, the door flew open and that man was there again, along with who Blaine assumed was his translator. Blaine barely noticed Fila cowering away in the corner while the man hauled Blaine to his feet and threw him into the chair, shouting at him in Dari or Farsi or whatever. And then the words repeated in bad English soon after.

"Where Amurkan bases? Speak or we kill."

Blaine snorted; they weren't going to kill him. But the anger from little less than a minute ago was still bubbling inside him, and he glared up at the man. "Fuck you. Give me my ring back you fucking asshole."

The other translated, and the man before glowered evilly before pulling out his knife again. Blaine was about to shout something at him but the knife was suddenly piercing the skin just below his left eye. He yelled out in pain, almost screaming. Any higher and he'd be blind.

He felt the pain move with the knife, slicing his skin open, stinging and raw as the blood dripped from gash. The knife travelled down his cheek and along his neck, very nearly missing his jugular vein, and down his chest, stopping just above his heart. Blaine knew the knife must've been pressed lighter on neck, or surely he'd be dead by now.

The man screamed a few more words at him while he yelled out in constant pain, before spitting on him and storming back out the room, screaming something else that had the word Fila and Amurkan in it. The translator left right after, shutting the door behind him. And Fila was by his side in second, shaking but trying to stop the blood pouring from his wound. He struggled to keep his eyes open, still a little wary of the girl. But he calmed the second he noticed a bruise on her cheek. Had that even been there before?

Blaine never got to ask, because he was passed out again quickly.

The days passed very similarly, he woke up to Fila changing his dressings (she clearly was never given any painkillers for him because he always hurt like hell, the scary guy would come in with his shitty translator, Blaine would say something particularly vulgar, and then he'd be tortured.

It seemed they'd come up with new, terrible ways to torture him each time. Blaine had lost count of how long he'd spent there, or how long he'd spent unconscious. It could have been weeks, months even.

The day Blaine gave up trying to figure out how long he'd been there for was the day the man had poured alcohol on his right shoulder, and then set it alight with a match. Blaine screamed as it burned him, scorching his arm, shoulder and lower neck. It didn't last long because they threw a towel over him and doused him with freezing cold water. They might have done after seconds, but it felt like forever.

Blaine had simply whimpered in pain as they stormed out once more, leaving him alone.

They barely fed Blaine, and when they did, it was obviously table scraps that they gave to Fila to give to him. And they give him little water, only enough to keep him alive.

Even though Blaine and Fila didn't really communicate much, Blaine felt a little protective over her. Well, as protective as he could be when he constantly wounded. He saw bruises on her skin snd started thinking that maybe he wasn't the hostage here…

He never said anything though, seeing as he was always too preoccupied with gunshot wounds, stab wounds, beatings, and burning once or twice.

He had countless scars covering his body, and he could remember how he'd gained each one; each remark he'd spat at his abuser and how Kurt and Little baby Isaac flashed before his eyes before the pain started.

What he was doing was right. He was fighting for the people he loved and he would never give out any information. Even if it meant he'd have to grow old here. If they didn't kill him first.

And that's when Blaine realized he was losing hope. His faith in his friends was dwindling, and he was beginning to doubt if he'd ever be saved. But he knew, deep down, that he'd never give up, he just couldn't. He wasn't going to endanger anyone. He had no regrets.

He didn't know how long he was there for, how long it was until he started feeling numb. He started to forget things, about what life was like before he got captured. Each memory started to become almost dreamlike to him, like they weren't actually real. Because in truth, Fila and this vicious man had become his new reality. His new, very painful reality. The days become blurred together, passing into weeks then months without him even blinking. He was running out of hope.

He felt like a zombie, a human punch bag that was simply just living for the sake of other people not having to get hurt. At least… that was until the guns sounded.

The first gunshot was heard when Blaine was sleeping, and it jolted him awake. At first he was unsure of what woke him, and he looked around the room, expecting to see Fila, but the girl was nowhere in sight.

But then he heard it; more gunshots and incoherent yelling. Warfare?

Blaine sat still, waiting, listening. A strong feeling of anticipation mixed with fear began to bubble in the pit of his stomach. What was going on? Was he about to be saved? At last? After… how long exactly? Finally?

And then, with a fierce surge of adrenaline, Blaine leapt to his feet, most of his injuries screaming at him in protest, but was blind to the pain. In this moment, he had regained hope.

He slipped on his bulletproof vest that was still lying on the floor, but left his jacket. Meaning he was clad in his ripped pants, a dusty, ruined, singed shirt, and the vest. He shoved his tags, the watch and his photo into pocket and waited, staring at the door. His heart beat fast, pounding against chest as the yells grew louder.

It felt like forever until the voices were just outside the door, the one he hadn't left in God knows how long. Blaine jumped as the door was kicked open with a heart rattling force. And then, there stood someone in an American uniform. A helmet on the guy's head and a gun aimed at him, but a familiar face, one he couldn't exactly place.

"BLAINE!" The man yelled, shock evident in his voice. Blaine halted, the name sounding almost foreign to him now. That was his name, right? Blaine… he could hardly remember. The only names he ever really thought about were Kurt and Isaac.

But he knew this man. He knew he knew him. He was positive. It was just… putting the name to the face. He couldn't remember…

"Blaine? Blaine are you okay? What's wrong? Oh God please be fucking okay." The man kept talking, while Blaine just stared helplessly. Did it begin with a P? Or an N? Or any of the other 26 letters of the alphabet? Now he was just being stupid… But he had to remember. He had to. Nnnnnnno. Nononononoah. Noah? Noah Puckerman? PUCK!?

"…Puck?" Blaine whispered, shocked but utterly relieved, wanting to throw his arms around him as the memories came flooding back. Puck. From High School. Noah freaking Puckerman. His heart suddenly felt like it was about to beat out of his chest in happiness.

"Blaine." The gun was lowered and strong arms were pulling Blaine from the room and smashing his body against Puck's, before being quickly dropped again. "Dude you look like hell… but I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks, Noah." Blaine coughed slightly, his voice rough from misuse. He scanned the hallway, finding only one other person with Puck, a private. And Puck himself was a sergeant.

"You smell like shit, too."

"You're an asshole." Blaine found it odd at how easy it was to converse like this. Puck just grins.

"Just wait until Kurt finds out. No one even knows I joined the army, dude. The second I found out you were missing, I joined to find you. Damn dude, it's been seven years, it's so good to see you-"

"SEVEN YEARS?!" Blaine was appalled, he had to be kidding. There was no way it had been seven years since he left. It can't have been that long… that was impossible.

Puck simply shrugs. "Come on. We need to get you out of here. We'll catch up later, I have a mission to complete."

Now, Blaine was all set and ready to run off with Puck, but there were things he had to do first. He had to find Fila, save her before they mistook her for an enemy. He had to find his wedding ring, place it back where it belonged on his finger. And he also had to kill some sons of bitches.

"No… Puck. Give me a gun. Now."

"Blaine I can't-"

"PUCK! I have rotted in this shit hole for four and half fucking years, you give me a gun so I can get some mother fucking payback for what they did to me. Just look at me, Puck. I'm going to look like this forever-"

"Well hopefully you'll shave."

"-so you give me a fucking gun right now or I swear to god…" he shakes his head. "Just… please, Puck. The asshole that did this to me has my wedding ring."

That's when Puck's face softened considerably and he held out his hand to the private by his side. The man scurried to pull his hand gun out before handing to Puck, who in turn gave it to Blaine. Blaine loaded it and did a test shot at the lock on a door a few meters away, shocking both men beside him who were appalled at the way Blaine didn't even flinch at the noise.

"Works fine. Let's go."

It was a while before they seemed to find what they hoped was the room they'd find people in. Everywhere they'd gone so far was empty and they'd not met a single person. The gunshots and yelling had lowered by now, and Blaine was starting to feel his injuries once more, and he was sweating profusely and panting, Puck had offered to carry him, but he refused, determined to do this.

When they reached the door, they followed procedure and threw a flash bang in first, and once the heard yelling and screaming come from inside, they were in soon after. The shot the first few people dead instantly, but Blaine stood in front of the Privates way once he tried to shoot a young girl who was in a ball on the floor and screaming. Blaine rested a hand on her shoulder and whispered in her ear.

"Fila. Fila. Shhhhhh. It's me. We're not going to hurt you." She sniffled and looked up at him, smiling slightly. He placed a finger to his lips in a silent plea to ask she remained silent. She understood. He stood back up, turning to see Puck aiming his gun at someone. Blaine turned to see his abuser smirking and aiming his own gun back at Puck, and then the Private, shaking in his boots as he stood, his gun at the man, but too afraid.

Blaine shook his head before reloading his gun and walking calmly towards the man they were set to kill. He only turned his head and his gun at the last second, too late to notice Blaine punch him in the gut and hit his gun forcefully out of his hand, and then threw him to the floor.

"Whoa Blaine-"

"Shut up!" Blaine felt anger flooding through him. This man before him tortured him, terrorized him, kept him away from the person he loved for seven years. There was no way he was going to let him die quickly. He grew irritated when the man snickered at him, and he backhanded him hard across the face with the hand he was holding the gun with. First things first. "Where the fuck is my wedding ring, you filthy piece of shit!?"

The man just laughs so Blaine kicks him in the groin, fury pumping through his veins. "TELL ME!"

Puck stood stock still as he watched Blaine, scared of him. He'd never seen Blaine like this, it was like a completely different person. He looked odd, a long, unkempt beard on his chin, his curls wild and matted, his eyes were crazed and he was covered in battle scars. But his face, he looked so furious, the vein in his temple was pulsing and he was close to tears. Puck just didn't know what to do.

The man laughed in his face, pulling something shiny from his pocket which Blaine snatched from his hand immediately. His ring, his beautiful, beautiful wedding ring. The one that matched Kurt's, the object that was the only thing keeping his adrenaline high enough to stay on his feet. The gold circle with the engraving on the inside: My Missing Puzzle Piece.

Blaine felt complete as he slid it back where it belonged on his left hand on his ring finger. He breathed out a sigh of relief as he fell to the floor one last time; almost smiling at the way Fila instinctively crawls over. He distantly heard Puck calling out his name, and he knew he was about to pass out from pain again, but he had one last job to do.

He lifted his hand steadily, aiming carefully, and shot.

The bullet was impaled through the man's forehead, his blood splattering across the wall behind him. But Blaine had passed out before he could see the image that could have been plastered in his mind forever.

"… The next thing I knew, I was in an army hospital. I felt better and I kept asking for you. I just… I needed to see you again. They said they'd sent out a letter to you, but then they told me that they gave it to Puck. I guess he wanted you to have the full effect of my return… or something." He spoke nervously towards the end, looking at their intertwined hands.

Kurt sipped at his wine, he'd gone to make coffee soon after Blaine first started his story, but had decided on wine, knowing that the story was going to be rough. He dried his eyes, torn between relief of Blaine being home and despair from hearing what he'd been through. There were so many things he wanted to say, but only six words left his lips.

"I'm going to kill Noah Puckerman."

Blaine laughs softly and squeezes Kurt's hand, lifting it up to kiss it gently.

"No you're not." He stated, and Kurt sighed, looking at him. "Without Puck, I'd still be there. He's the one that pushed the generals, he came up with the rescue plan. I owe him everything."

Kurt smiles sadly. "I just… I wish he'd told me, or someone. Anyone. He's crazy."

Blaine nods, and just looks at Kurt, finding it incredibly hard to believe that Kurt was right there, that he was home.

"How long were in that hospital for?" Kurt asked, not tearing is eyes away from Blaine.

"A few months. They wanted to make sure I was fully healed, and also fill them in on what happened, tell them who Fila was and why I protected her. They making out that was some kind of hero and that I lead them to a major hideout just they found a bunch of information there and now they're ahead. All I did was sit and wait, it was technically all Puck…" He shakes his head. "They want to give me the Medal of Honour… It's stupid."

"Blaine… it's not stupid. You deserve it, after everything you've been through."

Blaine sighed, clearly not believing. Kurt frowned and kissed his cheek.

"I love you." He said it with so much certainty, wanting Blaine to truly believe in himself.

"I love you too." He whispered back, leaning into Kurt's touch.

Kurt was about to say something else when he heard 'Daddy' being called out from upstairs. Kurt sighed to himself, automatically getting up to go talk to Isaac, almost forgetting about Blaine.

"Is that Isaac?" Blaine whispered; his eyes wide and hopeful. Kurt looked back to him an offered him his hand, smiling.

"Come and meet your son, Blaine."

Blaine took his hand and stood too, beginning to grow so nervous he started shaking. Kurt smiled comfortingly, confident that this was going to go well, and then slowly and silently led him upstairs.

They found Isaac in the hallway, rubbing his eyes and heading to Kurt's room.

Kurt dropped Blaine's hand and knelt beside Isaac, taking both of his tiny hands in his own.

"Isaac, sweetie, what are you doing out of bed?" Kurt spoke softly, watching as the little boy yawned and put his sleepy eyes on his Dad.

"I had that dream again, Daddy. That man was there again, and he was saying that he loves you, but he was hurt this time… Daddy, is he real? Because I want to help him."

Kurt smiled softly, well aware of Blaine behind him, who was standing in shock and awe at his son.

"Can you tell me what man looked like, Isaac?"

The boy nods. "He… he had curly hair, brownishy eyes and… and…" His eyes wandered as he thought, and they found and focused on Blaine quickly. "… and he looked like him." He said, pointing, and Kurt smiled knowingly. He looked to Blaine and tilted his head to the side, silently asking Blaine to join them.

Blaine took a shaky breath and lowered himself to his knees, his eyes locked onto Isaac.

"Isaac, sweetie, this is Blaine. He's your Papa." They'd agreed on what they'd have their baby would call them long before they'd even found a surrogate, and it felt amazing to hear Isaac finally say it.

"My Papa? But…" He looks at Blaine, frowning sadly. "Where have you been Papa? Daddy's been all alone…" Blaine gasped, his heart breaking all over again from the look in Isaac's eyes, trying his hardest not to cry.

"I… I was lost. And I couldn't find my way back home."

Isaac nods seriously, probably not understanding as much as he made out.

"Okay. Papa… Do you love Daddy? Will you make him happy?"

Kurt smiled, knowing Isaac was about to ask a bunch of questions. Well, as many as he could get out before he fell back asleep. He was already swaying on the spot.

Blaine laughed softly. "I love Daddy very much. And I promise to make him happy."

"Good! Urm…" He yawned again. "Do you love Unky Poop?"

Blaine frowned, before giving Kurt a quizzical look. Kurt stifled a giggle before mouth 'Cooper'. Blaine nodded in understanding.

"I love Cooper, too."

Isaac nods again.

"Do you loooove…. Me?" He asks, rubbing his eyes again.

Blaine smiles and wipes a few tears from his eyes. "I love you so much, Isaac. I really do."

Then Isaac smiles, before walking the few steps towards Blaine and hugs him, wrapping his small arms around Blaine's waist, and closing his eyes.

Blaine looked down at him, shocked at his abruptness, but hugged him back, silent tears falling from his eyes. He felt so happy to finally be holding his son in his arms.

Kurt smiled at the sight and stood back up.

"Come on." He whispered. "I think it's time for bed."

Isaac, who had been truly exhausted, had already fell asleep against Blaine. So Blaine picked him up and followed Kurt to his - no, their – room. He placed Isaac in the middle of the double bed as Kurt pulled out some pyjamas, and then some for Blaine, who looked in shock at Kurt.

"You kept my pyjamas?"

"I wear them a lot… But you're back now… All of your stuff is still here."

Blaine kissed Kurt at that, and then they changed. Kurt gave Blaine some space and changed in the bathroom, not wanting to make his husband uncomfortable with all the scars that covered his body. They'd breach that topic another day.

When they were both ready, they stood on opposite sides of the bed, smiling, before slipping in slowly at the same time, and cuddling each other, with Isaac in between them, finally a family. Together.

Kurt woke up to his alarm blaring from the bedside table. He groaned and moved to turn it off, but before he had even blinked his eyes open, it was off. He looked up tiredly, seeing Blaine sitting up and leaning against the headboard, Isaac fast asleep against him.

"Good morning, beautiful." Blaine said, smiling at Kurt. The scar on his face was distracting, and it jarred his smile slightly, and Kurt has no doubts that if the knife had started any higher, Blaine would be blind in one eye. Kurt was just happy Blaine was alive, and back where he belonged. The scar was just a memory.

"G'mornin'." He yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Need to geddup."

"Why? Can't we just stay in bed all day?" He whined slightly, and Kurt wondered if he was about to pout, which brought an endearing smile to Kurt's face. He missed this. So much.

"I wish we could, really. But there's a lot I have to do today. It's Isaac's birthday and the whole family is going to be here by lunch time. I still need to decorate the house with balloons, I promised I'd take Isaac strawberry picking, and I need to go and get his present and make food for everyone."

"Oh… wow. That's a lot. You were planning to do that all on your own?" he plays with the curls atop Isaac's head as he speaks. Kurt sighs and sits up, leaning against Blaine.

"Unfortunately. Rachel is supposed be here the earliest. And Cooper probably won't even wake up until eleven so…"

"Cooper won't be…? What? Did he sleep here or something?"

"No… He lives here. He uh, moved in when we found out you were MIA. I was… I had trouble coping with the news and looking after Isaac." Blaine frowned, his heart aching painfully, and kissed Kurt's hair.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

"It's fine, really. You're here now. That's what matters." He smiles. "Why don't you take Isaac strawberry picking? Have some time alone with him before everyone steals you." Blaine grins.

"I'd like that."

"I thought you would." Kurt smiles and leans up, pecking Blaine's lips softly, the kiss lingering. It probably would have come to more if Isaac hadn't opened his eyes at that exact moment.

"Eww kissing!" Kurt snorts out a laugh and looks down at the little boy, whose eyes are still drooping slightly from sleep.

"Happy Birthday, Isaac."

Isaac grins. "I'm… Seven!"

"Yes you are. And how would you like to go Strawberry picking with me today? And then we can come back and eat all the food that Daddy's gonna make." Blaine grins at him, hoping Isaac will want to, trying to ignore a small fear in the back of his mind telling him that Isaac needs more time to trust him.

"Really!? Yay! Papa can we go noooooooow!? Can we can we can we?" he looks up at Blaine with big, pleading eyes and Blaine just can't resist so he looks to Kurt, pulling the puppy dog eyes too.

"Oh my god. Both of those looks together… how am I supposed to deny either of you anything? Fine, but you have to get dressed and brush your teeth. I'll make some toast for you to eat on the way there."

Isaac practically screams with joy and scrambles out of the bed, running to the bathroom probably, to brush his teeth. Kurt laughs and gets up too.

"I'll go get him some clothes. You're clothes are in the wardrobe. Where they've always been." Blaine smiles and says thank you while Kurt goes off to Isaac's room. He lays out a pair of jeans, a button up shirt and graphic t-shirt and a fedora on his bed. Isaac comes in with his teeth squeaky clean and goes to get dressed.

"Me and Papa will be downstairs when you're dressed, okay?" he nods in reply, resisting the urge to bounce on the spot. Kurt laughs and kisses his cheek before going back to his room. Blaine's already dressed in a plain light blue t-shirt and jeans, and a jacket to cover his arms. He smiles at Kurt and then they both go downstairs to make toast. Kurt put's Isaac's into a small Tupperware tub just as the child comes running into the kitchen. He hasn't done the buttons of his shirt up so that you can see the shirt underneath, and you can see his curls poking out from under the little fedora. He looked absolutely adorable.

Kurt kissed them both before left, Blaine adamant that he remembered where the Strawberry fields were, and they borrowed Kurt's car. Kurt then got immediately to blowing up balloons, not even bothering to change from his PJ's until Rachel turned up. He gave her the job of putting the balloons everywhere while he went to change.

He came back down in skin tight jeans, a button up shirt and a bowtie, and his hair styled in his usual quiff. And when he breezed past Rachel to go start on baking a cake, her jaw dropped and she followed after him.

"Kurt… you look… different." She said, staring at him.

"Hmm? How so?" He asked whilst he measured the flour carefully.

"…You look… happier."

Kurt smiles. "I am happy."

"But you're never happy." Kurt raises an eyebrow. Had he really been that grumpy?

"Well, I'm happy now. Now shut up and start making food."

She nods and starts making salads and sandwiches, still eyeing Kurt curiously, almost choking on a carrot stick she'd eating when he started humming. Kurt shook his head, stifling a laugh. He had to tell her to stop staring and get to work because this food needed to be done. They made it together silently, with the exception of Kurt's humming, and by the time Kurt got to icing the cake, Cooper came down into the kitchen, still clad in his pyjamas.

His eyes sparked up at the sight of the cake and went to dip his finger in the icing, only to earn himself a hard slap from Kurt. Rachel then dragged Cooper into the hall into what she assumed was a 'quiet' conversation.

"He's happy!"

"It's his son's birthday, Rachel; he has a right to be happy."

"HE'S FREAKING HUMMING!"

"…"

"Did something happen last night?"

"…not that I know of."

"He's never this happy, Cooper. He hasn't been this happy since Blaine left-"

"Rachel. So what if he's happy? I don't care why. He's happy and he's smiling and that's what counts. Now shut up and be thankful that he's having a good day."

Kurt grinning to himself as he decorated the cake, making way too many hearts for a boys cake but he honestly couldn't care less. He started singing as Cooper ran upstairs to change, coming back down in shorts and a polo.

"Cooper, you can go and get Isaac's present and then hide it in his room." Kurt said, putting a cover over the cake and moving to make cupcakes now.

"…Where is Isaac?" He asked, worrying slightly.

"Uh… Rosie from next door is watching him while we sort everything out." Nice Kurt, excellent thinking.

Cooper nods and leaves quickly and Rachel eyes Kurt curiously. Kurt soon leaves Rachel to take care of making the food and goes into the garden to stick more balloons up and put streamers around the place.

It wasn't long before the first guests started to arrive, and Kurt couldn't have been more happy to see his dad. Burt's first question was 'Where is the birthday boy?'. Kurt lied again and told his dad to put the present on the floor by the TV in the living room, before Burt and Carole sat themselves on the couch. Finn was next, and he went straight to find his wife, who was still busying herself in the kitchen. Then came Santana and Brittany, who were sad when they found out Isaac wasn't there but went to sit with Burt and Carole. There weren't many people due to come to be honest, and right now, there was only six.

When Cooper came home, he ran straight upstairs with Isaac's present, not letting anyone see what it is, and then he came back down, grinning.

"Kurt should I go and get Isaac? Everyone's here soooo…?"

"Uh…" Kurt was saved from having to answer by the doorbell ringing, and he sprinted to the door as fast as he could to avoid Cooper's questioning gaze. He was relieved, until he opened the door. Suddenly he felt angry, but also gratefulness, which was ignored as he yelled and the man at the door ducked under his arm and ran inside, laughing.

"NOAH FREAKING PUCKERMAN! –GET BACK HERE!" He chased after Puck, who ran through the kitchen, saw Finn and Rachel making out, before running into the living room instead.

"Puck?"

"Noaaaaah!"

"That's gotta be the first unhappy reaction Kurt's had all day-"

"Save me from Hummel!"

"Why should I?"

Finally, Puck was standing, badly hiding behind Santana, as Kurt just stood there.

"Santana, would you please move?"

She shrugs and moves. "I'm interested in what's happening."

Kurt didn't move for a second and just stared at Puck, who ever so slowly smiling and held out his arms. And then his anger was gone, and all that was there was happiness and gratefulness and he fell into Puck's arms and tried not to cry.

"Th-thank you."

Puck just smiles and rubs his back. "Don't worry about it, Kurtsie. It wasn't just for you. It was for everyone."

Kurt sniffles and smiles, pulling away from Puck. "You did good." He nods in understanding, and Kurt doesn't even acknowledge all the confused looks they're getting because through the open door, he can hear a car pulling up. He wipes his eyes and looks back at Puck, who winks and pushes him towards the door.

Kurt walks to the door, smiling as he sees Blaine carrying Isaac, and Isaac carrying a basket of strawberries. Blaine grins when he sees Kurt and walks over to him and kisses him, Isaac being held between them as they kiss sweetly, the young child giggling and covering his eyes. They were pulled apart by Cooper's voice.

"What the fuck is going on!?"

Kurt looked around to see that they were in sight of everyone, and they were all staring, shocked. Kurt didn't even know if they'd figured out it was Blaine, but he felt the blood rise to his cheeks and he hid his face into Blaine's shoulder, feeling him chuckle lightly. When Cooper got no answer, he just seemed to get angrier.

"This is why you're so happy?! Who is this guy and why did he have Isaac!?"

Kurt frowned slightly; Cooper was looking right at Blaine and still didn't see it. Blaine just sighed and put Isaac down on his feet, smiling a little when he whispered 'Unky Poop said a naughty word!'. Blaine nods at him before standing back up straight, catching eyes with Kurt and walking over to Cooper, looking him straight in the eyes.

"Look at me, Cooper. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't know who I am."

Cooper's face didn't soften once and he started shaking his head. "No. Nonononono. I've finally lost it. I've gone crazy. Oh god-"

"Cooper-"

"NO! NO YOU'RE DEAD I ACCEPTED THAT YEARS AGO YOU CAN'T JUST COME BACK! YOU'RE DEAD!"

"Cooper, calm down-" Kurt tried to interject as Isaac hid behind his Daddy's legs.

"DON'T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN! HE'S DEAD, HE'S NOT REALLY THERE, HE CAN'T BE!"

Blaine sighs. "You going to give yourself a sore throat."

"SHUT UP-"

"NO YOU SHUT UP." Blaine finally raised his voice, figuring that calmly wasn't Cooper's way of going about this. "I'M RIGHT HERE. I'M ALIVE. NOW YOU LOOK AT ME, AND YOU WELCOME ME HOME. YOU TELL ME THAT YOU LOVE ME AND THAT NO ONE'S EVER GOING TO HURT ME AGAIN. LOOK AT ME. I'M FINE NOW."

Everyone was silent, stunned and staring wide eyed at Blaine. Then Cooper spoke again.

"…Blainey?" His voice was small, afraid, but hopeful.

"It's me, Coop. I'm here."

And then Cooper was bringing him into a tight, breathless hug, causing them both to cry. Kurt takes the basket of strawberries from Isaac and tells him to go see grandpa and grandma before taking the strawberries to the kitchen, where Finn and Rachel were standing, confused, having not ventured from their little bubble to actually see what the shouting is about. They take Kurt as their cue and follow him back to the living room, the scene a lot different than it was before.

Burt, Carole, Santana and Rachel were sitting on the couch utterly perplexed, Cooper was now shaking where he stood, and his eyes locked on Blaine who was standing there looking scared. Whilst Puck was on the floor with Isaac and shoving all his presents towards him and laughing every time he struggled to open the wrapping paper.

Kurt sighed and went to take Blaine's hand before speaking. "Look, I know you all want to know, and I'm sure Blaine-"

"And me!" Puck interjected.

"-will tell you soon enough. But I don't want Isaac to hear it. So we let him open his presents, and we celebrate him, forget Blaine for two seconds, okay. It's Isaac's birthday, so let him enjoy it."

Everyone nodded in agreement and turned to watch Isaac. Kurt smiled and sat down with Blaine, squeezing his hand and leaning into him, whispering 'I love you'. It wasn't long before Isaac got up from opening clothes, books and toys and walks over to them.

"Daddy, that Pucky guy says that his present to me and you was Papa, and that's the bestest present anyone could get me ever in a bajillion years. But… what did you and Unky Poop get me? Cause it wasn't in the pile." Kurt laughs and Blaine looks at Kurt too, wondering what Isaac's present was himself.

"It's in your room. Go and get it."

He nods and runs off, and Kurt tells everyone to be quiet so they can hear his reaction. There's a loud scream and a banging noise. Then more screams and it's five minutes before Isaac is running down the stairs, and Golden Retriever puppy trailing after him, it's tail wagging a mile a minute.

"DADDYDADDYDADDYDADDY YOU GOT ME A PUPPY!?" He yells, bouncing on the spot, the puppy dancing around him.

Everyone is giggling and awing at him and the puppy, and it's a while before Isaac hears what Kurt is saying.

"What are you going to name him?"

"Uhhhhhh. Biscuit." Kurt grins as Blaine laughs.

"That's perfect, sweetie."

He grinned as the dog jumped up to lick his face repeatedly, his tail still wagging and barking once.

"Isaac, honey?" Isaac looks at his dad. "Do you want to go in the kitchen and draw for a bit? The adults need to talk for a while. Take Biscuit with you." He nods and runs to the kitchen excitedly, Biscuit following.

After that, it doesn't take long for the storytelling to start, and Kurt stays by Blaine's side throughout, gripping onto his hand and trying to block it out not sure if he'd be able to hold up a second time. He stayed strong for Blaine, taking into account all the shocked, pained, appalled faces and knowing he looked exactly like that when Blaine told him last night. It was easier with Puck there, though, as he managed to take over a little when it got to the rescue part, and by the end of it, Kurt could see how much respect Puck had gained just by the way they looked at him.

They were all so thankful.

By the end, Isaac was itching to come back inside to show Daddy and Papa his drawing and he sat on both their laps and shoved the paper into their faces. Kurt laughed and took it off him, his heart swelling the second he saw it. As he and Blaine both looked at it, Biscuit came and lay beside them, his tail still wagging.

Around the edges of the paper, was everyone in the room, all labelled so it was clear who was who. But in the middle was Isaac, Kurt and Blaine on either side of him, very much like they were sat, and a dog. It was all drawn very detailed for a seven year old, right down to the scar on Blaine's face. And under all the labels, in big capital letters, were the words 'MY FAMILY'.

Kurt couldn't help himself, and he let out a few tears, sniffling as Blaine leaned in and kissed him. Because they were a family. Now they were complete. And everyone in this room meant so much to all of them.

Isaac smiled up at his daddies as they kissed. He was happy, he had the best birthday ever. And right now, he loved everything. His family the most.

.

YOU HAVE PERMISSION TO CRY

I DID.

So this is totally random but I spent weeks on it and I really love it. I'm planning on writing other one shots based around this verse. Because I can:)