A/N: hey guys! so i got myself a job. like a real, full time job that pays more than minimum wage and that i can apply my university education to and it's very exciting. however, it also leaves me a lot less time to write. so i may only be updating every two weeks from now on. i know that sucks but there's not a lot i can do. sorry. but in the mean time, here's chapter 11. hope you enjoy!

August 1993

Blaine was startled awake by the insistent tapping of Kurt's notebook on his thigh. He groaned blinking his eyes open at his boyfriend. The sun was setting somewhere off in the distant west and the light was streaming in the passenger window behind Kurt making his hair glow golden while the pinky orange sky brought out the sheer blue of his eyes. Blaine would have happily stared at the heavenly sight until Kurt inevitably given him a playful slap in accusation of him being creepy or dumb but the wrist watch shoved in his face blocked his view.

"It's going on eight. You need to take your medication and you need food."

"I'm okay," he answered, sitting up and turning around to see the empty driveway behind them. Not that he thought Rachel had shown up. Kurt would have woken him if she did.

"Blaine. You're border line anemic. You need food."

Blaine knew Kurt was right but the bite of hunger had yet to hit him. He suspected his nerves were suppressing it and tried not to let his mind wander to the potentiality that his body may not actually want food because it may be beginning the process of shutting down.

"We can come back after food and pills but if she's not in, I think we should just grab a hotel for the night and try back in the morning."

"Okay," Blaine nodded, taking a last look at the double wide trailer before turning the key in the ignition and back out of the dusty gravel.

"Ow!" Blaine pouted, retracting his hand quickly from Kurt's fries after it was slapped away. They were seated in a booth in a far corner of the McDonald's, agreeing that they'd already spent too much time in the car to handle the drive through.

"Serves you right," Kurt smirked.

"Oh, come on." He clutched his hand that didn't even hold a sting to his chest and rubbed at it hoping to gain some sympathy points. "I just wanted one."

"That McProcessedGrease is poison enough," Kurt said without any sign of remorse. This was going to be a tough one. He'd already had to convince Kurt that fast food was their best option if they were planning on swinging back by Rachel's.

"Are you really denying a dying man one of this country's greatest feats?"

Kurt snorted and shook his head. "Well he's not just any man, is he? He's the man I love. And I would deny him every country's greatest feat if it meant I could spend one more day with him," he finally said in a tone far too serious for a foiled French fry heist.

"Well that's selfish," Blaine smiled in an awkward attempt to lighten the mood. McDonald's didn't seem like the place for this. Although in a way, McDonald's was the perfect place for it because this was life after all, fast paced and half assed, stripped of true thought or care. And life, well life had a habit of ending. It was only to not be anymore and so why not deal with the real consequences of life here, in a grease factory that was an unapologetic product of it?

Kurt gave him a half smile in return that did not quite reach his eyes. Blaine didn't blame him. He stretched his leg out under the table and nudged Kurt's foot with his.

After eating and medicating, they drove back to Rachel's. There was still no car and the lights were all off. Now though, it was probably for the best considering Blaine couldn't even open his eyes while he focused on keeping his dinner down. As Kurt backed the car out onto the street to drive back towards the town to find a hotel for the night he mentioned something about the whereabouts of his nieces but Blaine didn't even attempt an answer.

December 1972

Finals came quicker than Blaine expected. He thought being in his second year he'd be a little more prepared and in reality, maybe he was more prepared, but it certainly didn't feel like it. With his book bag stuffed with all his note books and a handful of multi-coloured pens, Blaine made his way across campus from his dorm to the library and up to the second floor after making a quick stop for coffee. An unjustified level of annoyance hit him when he spotted someone sitting at his favorite table but that quickly dissolved into embarrassment when he recognized the messy, light brown hair. Jake seemed busy enough that he could possibly sneak by him without being noticed and so Blaine put his head down, and turned it slightly away from the table and shuffled his feet as quickly and as quietly as he could along the linoleum floor.

He made it past the table without incident and was just straightening up his posture when an odd rattling noise approached him. Catching the motion, his eyes moved from his runners to a pen rolling past his feet. He came to a stop as it did and bent down to pick it up almost automatically. When he turned around to return it to its rightful owner though, he immediately regretted his innate kindness.

Jake was looking back at him, his upper body swiveled around in his chair and several more pens in his hand. He was smiling but Blaine was still weary. His cheeks were already heating up and he already felt like the biggest dweeb in the world. He didn't need some smart comment the highlight the point further. Unfortunately, he had picked up the pen and couldn't very well just walk away with it so he took a deep breath and walked back towards his favorite, and very much occupied table.

"Oh good," Jake said when he was close enough that they could speak at library acceptable levels. "The first one went under the book shelf and I do actually need these." He waved the hand that was clutching the other pens.

"Right." Blaine set the one he picked up down on the table and went to walk away.

"Hey. Hold up. Lookin' for a table?"

"Um no. No it's fine."

"Oh just sit," he said, pushing out the chair opposite his with his foot under the table.

Blaine had always been a bit of a people pleaser and he didn't want to start drawing attention to himself and his reddened cheeks so he sat. "You could have just offered in the first place." He reached out a finger to role the pen he had previously placed down on the table towards Jake.

"Finals. I'm a bit loopy," he chuckled.

"Only thing that keeps me sane," Blaine said nodding to his coffee cup and trying his best to return the smile even though he was sure it came across more as a wince. Everything was just too tight and tense. Jake seemed relaxed though and he looked as cute as ever which made it all worse. He began rummaging through his book bag for his notes in hopes of preventing further awkward facial expressions.

"Look man, don't worry about the car thing. You're not ready. Still stuck in boob land." Blaine didn't think he'd ever been in boob land. Maybe he hadn't quite entered cock land but he was definitely ready for shoulders and abs and the scruff guys got in the morning before they shaved. He didn't correct Jake though. After his display, or lack thereof, in the car, he didn't really feel in the position to. "That's cool. But I know a bunch of guys and we all go out to this gay pub whenever school isn't all up our asses. You should come. Just grab a beer and sit at the bar. Just watch and hang out. It'll help."

February 1975

"Oh my god. What the fuck is that?" Jake grumbled, his face buried into the pillow and his body sprawled out on the bed beside Blaine.

"Sorry, sorry," Blaine winced.

"Anderson!" came a shout from the floor. "Shut. Up."

"I'm sorry," he stage whispered hitting the many buttons on the hotel alarm clock in a random and somewhat frantic manner to hush its blaring.

"Jesus Christ man, thank god," came another unhappy groan once he'd found the correct button. He hoped for his sake that it wasn't the snooze button. In his defense though, nine thirty really wasn't that early. The sun had probably been up for hours now – although he'd have never guessed it with the standard issue hotel black out curtains pulled and he had to at least give them props for remembering to shut them when they all stumbled in drunk last night – and they were all used to getting up with it's morning rays for class. He supposed they did tend to go to bed before four on school days though and consume less alcohol but their hangovers weren't his problem and his bleary eyes could be easily ridden with a bit of caffeine.

He climbed out of bed and carefully manoeuvered his way through the strewn limbs and duffel bags. They had crammed eight guys into one room to save money and as drunk as everyone was, sleeping on the floor didn't seem to be an issue. Blaine smiled when he only counted seven bodies. At least someone got lucky last night while he had hovered close to the bar. Despite the cigarette smoke, the club was still a breath of fresh air after Christmas with his father. For three nights though he hadn't been able to drink away the feeling though that it was his father's comments that had knocked him back to the bar and that a pre-Christmas trip would have seen him out of the floor grinding away with the rest of his friends. The ten hour drive to the city wasn't a bust for him though. It was actually just what he needed.

After a quick splash of water to his face, he brushed his teeth and threw on some jeans and stepped quietly out the door. He stopped at the breakfast bar for caffeine and then hit the street. Even on Sunday the New York city sidewalks were packed. He was almost run over and definitely lost a few sips of coffee when he stopped moving mid-stream to orient himself. Blaine didn't mind though. The hustle and bustle was kind of exhilarating after growing up in such a small town. Everyone had a purpose here, a mission, and none of them were about to stop or let someone else get in their way. They walked their path with a goal in sight and were not about to side step around others, inhabiting the grid their city was built on. He definitely saw the draw it had on Rachel. She was the most one track mind person he knew. He just needed it to keep pulling and keep pulling hard.

He made his way south and with ease found Washington Square Park, another perk to the grid system. The NYU campus was just east of the park and as he crossed the street towards it, he wished Rachel was with him. She wasn't though but he could do the next best thing and bring NYU to her in the form of an oversized, purple hoodie that would hopefully serve two functions.

August 1993

"Oh my god, make it stop," Kurt grumbled, burring his face further into Blaine's chest

"Sorry. Sorry." Blaine flailed his arm over the side of the bed to reach the alarm clock. Finding the right button was hard as he tried to move a little as possible so the Kurt's body didn't need to be disturbed alongside his ears. He did find it though and let out a breath of relief as the morning quiet returned to the hotel room.

"Thank god."

"We still have to get up," Blaine chuckled, wrapping his arms tighter around Kurt's still sleep limp body, loving the way he felt, heavy and warm on top of him.

"It's vacation," Kurt protested.

Blaine huffed a breath at that. He'd never before had a vacation that came with this big of a load. "It's more of a mission."

"Missions require ample sleep in order to be carried out properly," Kurt said, propping himself up above Blaine in a seeming surrender.

"Is there even a proper way to tell someone you have AIDS?"

Kurt didn't answer. He just looked down at him for a while. Blaine didn't question it. He could look back up at Kurt and his clear blue eyes, watery with sleep, and messy, untamed hair. The way he was supporting himself made his collar bone jut out, making it more prominent than usual and he just looked so soft gorgeous in the early morning sun. Kurt leant down and kissed him.

"I've got you."

Kurt drove them back to Rachel's again this morning. This time when their car tires began to crunch along the dusty gravel driveway there was a car parked at the end of it. He recognized the other car as their grandparent's old ford escort. It was terribly rusty around the wheel wells and he just picture the hazy fumes it would give off while running.

"Well?" Kurt turned to him expectantly as he put the car in park.

"Right," he answered absentmindedly chewing on the inside of his cheek and looking out the windshield to avoid eye contact.

"You should probably get out. Don't want to freak her out with a random car just sitting outside her house."

"Right."

"You okay?" Kurt asked bringing his hand to Blaine's knee.

"Yeah. It's just there's no going back now, is there?" When he booked the time off work he knew he wasn't ready to do this but he had hoped that as time went by, it would erode the mountain that lay in front of him. It was still as big as ever as he packed though, his toiletry bag bigger than ever with all the pill bottles, and seemed to grow bigger with ever mile they drove.

"Blaine," Kurt said softly, giving his knee a squeeze. Blaine turned to him and saw all the sincerity and support in the world swimming within the ever blue of his eyes. "You don't have to do this. Many people don't. We could just say we were here for a surprise visit. That we were in Ohio to see my dad and thought, hey, why not?"

"She wouldn't buy that for a second."

"We could make something up. Like you were fired or we got engaged."

"Improbable and illegal. Next."

"You say that like they would arrest us," Kurt said with an amused grin.

"Well back in the day, they would have." In some very small and very sarcastic part of his brain, probably greatly inspired by Kurt over the years, Blaine almost wished he was back in those days. A neighbour would have seen them sitting in the car and seen the way Kurt had no doubt fiddled with his hair while he was asleep and called the sheriff who would have come down, shot gun a blazing, and arrested them for sodomy and then it'd be done. He could sit in a jail cell and be done with life. He wouldn't have to worry about telling anyone. He wouldn't have to worry about his health deteriorating because what was there to do in a jail cell all day? And then when the AIDS finally took him, he'd be happy about it because there wouldn't be a full and worthy life to be missed. Or he might get lucky and be shanked by his homophobic cell mate and never have to taste the bitterness of his body giving in to smallest of bugs.

But no one got arrested these days. If he went to the right neighbourhood he could still probably get himself shanked but he knew he'd never be brave enough to stare death in the eyes at his own volition. And so he was left here, in the car, feet away from his sister who he had to tell because although he didn't want to and although Kurt would be there if he walked away, he'd seen too much too often. Because the men down in the Circle in DC or the Castro in San Francisco or SoHo in New York were there alone. They came from all over the United States, fleeing persecution in their small home towns and families. They didn't go home for Christmas, and their parents didn't visit for Thanksgiving. Quarter phone calls to confirm life was typically the only contact that the men of scattered gay heartlands of the United States had with the family that raised them until that quarterly call was finally made from a hospital bed while a loving boyfriend or friend was run off his feet trying to make everything okay. And if anyone ever came, all they saw was yellowing death consuming the life they had once loved.

That wasn't the image he ever want to be part of his reality. If his family was to ever feel like his again, he wanted to be healthy for it. And he hated the idea of everything being on Kurt. He was good at it but he shouldn't be.

So he had to say something and he had to say it now.

"No, no. I have to do this. I can do this," he said equally for him and his boyfriend. He gave Kurt's hand a squeeze where it was still resting on his knee and opened the car door with the other. He stepped out and walked towards the trailer door. He took a deep breath and knocked. It was quiet and he thought then that maybe they had come too early and that Rachel was probably still asleep. She hadn't gotten home until at least after nine last night so she probably worked evenings. He thought of walking back to the car and telling all this to Kurt but instead, he knocked again. This time, louder.

It was quiet again but then came some clattering. "If you're going to stay out all night, at least remember your key," came a not so happy voice from inside and then the door was opening. "Blaine!"

"Uh, hey," he greeted hesitantly, not being quite able to read her shock.

She crossed her arms awkwardly across her body still only dressed in the thin tank top and matching shorts she had presumably slept in. "What, what're you doing here," she asked.

"Oh, you know, had some vacation days so Kurt and I thought we'd come up for a visit," he smiled nodding to the car.

"Must be nice to get vacation," she huffed.

"Well when I get to spend it with you." He reached out and nudged her arm. "Come'ere." She smiled then at his out stretched arms and it was really the only hint of recognition Blaine had of the little sister he had grown up with since she had opened the door.

"Well, come in, I guess," she said as she pulled back from his hug. "Kurt too. I didn't know you were back together by the way. But yeah, I'm just going to throw some clothes on."

"Okay," he answered, turning back to the car to get Kurt, with a smile on his face.