Mike had actually seen the way Kurt had tripped both in the sand and on the stairs, but they had been too far away from him to reach him before he had picked himself up and kept going. All Mike knew was that his own heart had clenched and twisted up watching Kurt's desperate race to get to his husband and Mike hoped to hell and prayed to God that some sick fucking twist of fate where the island sucked Blaine back between when he left the cabin and now didn't occur. It could happen, but it would be fucking awful if it did. He just had to hope to all fuck that Blaine hadn't been here long enough to learn anything yet (considering he had been unconscious the whole time) and that maybe, just maybe, the island had brought him here to be with Kurt forever. Because fuck that til death us to part bullshit. That was fucked in the head if you barely got a few hours into it. It wasn't fair. You should get so much more time with the love of your life than that.

He and Quinn had pounded their way up the steps behind Kurt and skidded into the bungalow just in time to hear Kurt's pained wail and then witness Blaine appearing, and them laying eyes on each other for the first time in what seemed like ever. It must have felt like forever for Kurt, even if for Blaine it had been a split second almost. But the last he had seen Kurt, Kurt had died in his arms. There was nothing minuscule of blasé about this. It was a massive moment for all of them after learning or witnessing the tragic turn of events back home that took one of their own before his time.

Mike's hand came up over his mouth and he teared up watching the reunion. But it was seeing the way Blaine frantically tried to find Kurt's heartbeat that did it, and Mike stifled a sob of his own seeing his friends coming together again. No matter how fucking scary and freaky it had been seeing Blaine arrive how he did, the island had finally gotten it fucking right.