Puck had known from the get go where Blaine had come from, but his momentary shock had led to his complete inability to react properly, and in a way that would help Blaine. But the pain and terror in Blaine's broken voice, and his miserable face immediately shook Puck back to the very real knowledge that Blaine had literally just see his husband die -- had just held him in his arms while he died. There was no easy fix for that, and even the knowledge that Kurt was, in fact, okay, would probably be overwhelming. How was Puck going to tell Blaine that Kurt was dead at home, but alive here, and...

Fuck.

"Blaine, listen to me," Puck said, his voice firm, but not without the serious undercurrent of the seemingly age-old bromance between the two of them. "Buddy, I know this is really hard for you to understand, but Kurt's... we lost Kurt where you just were. We lost him, Blaine. But he's... He didn't just die, okay? This... You're on an island, B... It's called Etre Libre, and people come here when they need an escape from reality. Some people come here right as they die. And Kurt... Kurt's here, B. Here, where we are, Kurt's okay. I need you to breathe, and I need you to trust me on this. I have never lied to you before, and I'm not lying now. You're here now, B. It's going to be okay, I swear." He knew this wouldn't make any sense to Blaine. It never did to new arrivals, and even less son, to Blaine, who'd quite literally just had the happiest moment of his life turn into the moment that everything he loved was ripped away from him. "Come on," he coaxed gently. "We have to get you somewhere and clean you up... I promise I'll take you straight to Kurt as soon as we do, but he can't see you like this."