"Yeah, no," Blain shrugs. "Mercedes suddenly got a hard lock case of missing Sam so he took her out for retail therapy."

Gary nods, focussing on cutting the parsnips in front of him before he speaks up again, a little reluctantly.

"I haven't seen him much, lately... There isn't any trouble between the two of you, is there?"

"Oh no," Blaine says, even though he can't help but frown a little. "No, no trouble, we're doing fine. We're... I mean, we're not 'we', obviously, but we're fine, really."

"But...?" Gary prompts. It's not that he thinks his brother is lying when he says everything's fine, but he knows him well enough to know something is off, at least.

"But nothing," Blaine shrugs. "It's nothing. It's just..."

He pauses for a minute, looking at the onion in front of him as if it holds the answer to his dilemma.

"Kurt's been acting weird, lately," he finally says, looking up at Gary as he puts down his knife.

"Weird?"

"Well, yeah, not weird weird, just..." He sighs. "Like, last weekend we went to that McQueen exhibition he's been going on about forever, and he was all over me. I swear - the only time he let go of my hand was to go to the bathroom."

He smiles a little at the memory, because even if he's complaining now he hadn't particularly minded. That Kurt's behavior may have had something to do with their meeting Brad the day before is something he doesn't mention, though - he's not sure how his brother would react to the news of Brad's return to New York, but he has a feeling there wouldn't be any tears of joy involved.

"So there was that," he continues. "But the next day I come home and his eyes are all red and I'm sure he's been crying, but he won't talk to me - just says he had a serious talk with Nick and he 'has a lot to think about'. And then he starts acting all distant."

Gary pauses, frowning at Blaine.

"You don't think him and Nick are gonna get back together, do you?"

"I don't know what I'm supposed to think, Gar," Blaine sighs, resuming his fight with the onions, "because the day before yesterday he surprised me when I was sorting through my pills and ever since he's gone all Mother Theresa on me."

His expression becomes more than a little indignant when Gary bursts out laughing.

"Oh dear, that's just too precious! What happened?"

"I don't know - I didn't even know he was home!" Blaine tries to explain. "I was sitting on my bed filling my pill bags and he comes bursting in and of course I pull the blanket in a reflex and he- he thought I was- it's not funny!"

The story has sent Gary in another laughing fit, and Blaine rises up from his seat to swat at him. He misses by an inch.

"It is funny!" Gary roars, fending off another swat. "It totally is! It's almost surprising it hasn't happened before, really."

"What, seeing my pills or walking in on me jerking off?" Blaine asks, falling back onto his chair.

"Both, actually," Gary wiggles his eyebrows at Blaine, still grinning. "So, what did he say?"

"About what?"

"About your meds, obviously, what are we talking about? Did he freak out?"

"Why, did you want him to?" Blaine asks, eyeing his brother suspiciously.

"Dunno," Gary shrugs, getting up, "it would've made for a nice story. So, did he?"

"Not really." Blaine hands Gary his cutting board with the chopped up onions. "I thought he was going to throw a scene because he found out about the support group last weekend as well and it was probably starting to look like I was keeping stuff from him again, but I- "

"Wo-how, just a second," Gary interrupts him, holding up his hands as he turns towards Blaine. "You told him about the group?"

Gary sounds almost impressed, and Blaine lowers his head, pretty sure he's about to disappoint but he can't exactly lie to his brother.

"It... came up."

"'It came up'," Gary repeats slowly, an inquisitive look on his face as he crosses his arms and leans back against the counter. "I take it this doesn't mean you brought it up yourself?"

"Well... kinda..." Blaine starts, but Gary doesn't give him the chance to finish his sentence.

"Jesus, Blaine, when are you going to start being honest with him?"

"I am honest with him!" Blaine protests indignantly.

"Of course, because honest people routinely throw a blanket over whatever it is they're doing when someone walks in the room unexpectedly, right?" his brother asks, clearly not impressed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And honest people usually pretend to have classes but go to a support group instead, right? And what does 'kinda' even mean? Because I have a feeling you only told him because you had to turn down an invite or something along those lines."

The silence that follows says it all, and Gary shakes his head when he turns back around, taking out a pot and adding a bit of olive oil.

"I told him, Gar," Blaine pleads, "even if I didn't exactly sit him down to make the announcement, I told him. I could've lied, but I didn't, I was honest. Isn't that the point, that I was honest?"

"The point, Blaine," Gary says angrily, putting the pot on the stove with more force than necessary, "is that you're only honest when you're cornered, when you don't have another choice."

He turns on the stove and then pivotsto face Blaine.

"If you want Kurt to trust you again, you're going to have to do better than that."

But Blaine shakes his head determinedly.

"Kurt's had a really rough time, and dumping everything on him at the same time would be completely insensitive," he argues. "You really want me to sit him down and go through the list of details in which all of this affects my life? I rather let him figure out things in his own time, when he's ready. And anyways, it's all out there now."

"Is that so?" Gary all but sneers, and somehow Blaine already knows what he's going to say next. "So I take it you told him about your test results?"

Blaine bites his lip, taking a deep breath before he looks back at his brother, gaze steady.

"No."

Gary presses his fingers against his temples for a moment in contemplation before looking back at him.

"For god's sake, Blaine, don't you think he has a right to know?"

"That has nothing to do with it, Gar!" Blaine exclaims angrily, slamming his hand on the table. "This isn't about who has a right to know what because there's nothing to know in the first place!"

"I'll tell him that when you end up in hospital with acute kidney failure," Gary says dryly, his voice quavering with barely contained anger, and Blaine has to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

"The drama queen look doesn't suit you, Gar," he sneers. "And my kidneys are not suddenly going to fail on me. The values weren't even that abnormal, just... higher than usual."

"Oh, of course, nothing abnormal, which is why your next test is next month instead of in 4 months as usual," Gary scoffs. "There is reason for concern, Blaine, and Kurt needs to know. What if something happens - he won't know what's going on, won't know what to tell the paramedics."

"What if nothing happens and it was all just a storm in a glass of water?" Blaine counters. "It's just one test result. And you know Kurt well enough to realize he's just going to worry himself sick. He won't take it well."

But Gary shakes his head, sitting down across from Blaine.

"First of all, I think you're not giving Kurt the credit he deserves. Secondly, don't you think Kurt is perfectly capable of deciding for himself what he can and cannot take? And finally..." He runs his hands through his hair, pausing for a moment to catch Blaine's attention. "Look, Blaine, Kurt's a good guy, and I like him, I really do. But you're positive. You're positive and that means you need to take meds, you need to get tested regularly, you have to take care not to cut yourself, to always have safe sex. You could develop resistance to your drugs, you could get an opportunistic infection and end up in hospital. And Kurt needs to know that. If you want to have a relationship with him, or with anyone else for that matter, they need to know exactly what they're in for. And I understand you want to protect him from the ugly reality of it all, but Blaine, you've tried that before and we both know how that ended. So believe me when I say that you're not doing anyone any favors by keeping things from him that might scare him away - not him, and not you. Because if he can't handle it - it's better you know it now."

"He can handle it," Blaine says stubbornly with more conviction than he feels. "He can, I know he can. But you're making things sound way worse than they are, Gar. Negative people need regular medical check-ups too. They take care not to hurt themselves, they should have safe sex, they could run under a car or get cancer or whatever. As long as I take my meds regularly I'm no more likely than anyone else to end up in hospital. I'm not a hazard, I'm not sick and I'm not going to let anyone treat me like I am - not Kurt, and definitely not you."

His voice has grown increasingly louder and more insistent as he talked, and he sends Gary a challenging look. His brother doesn't say anything, though, simply looks back, and Blaine continues.

"You of all people should know better, Gar," he says, a little more confident now, "you're the one who always told me things would be alright, that I could have a normal life. Well, I have a normal life. And I know I screwed up, okay? I know that. But getting Kurt to trust me doesn't mean I have to tell him every detail of my life, let alone every detail of my treatment. You weren't there, you don't know how much he loathes pills now, any pills, and doctors, and hospitals. And I know he can handle it, I do, but right now he already has so much on his plate that I don't think he would be able to handle it well on top of everything else. So if I have to change meds I will tell him, I'll even tell him why, but unless that happens, I refuse to make things even harder for him."

It's not the complete truth, because not wanting to add to Kurt's worries is only part of the reason why Blaine is reluctant to tell him about the current problems with his kidneys. He can't exactly tell Gary the other reason, though, since it's a lot more selfish.

See, Blaine had known Kurt would need time, not only to accept the reality of Blaine's positive HIV status but also and more importantly to come to terms with what had happened between them, to understand why Blaine hadn't disclosed to him until after it was too late. Blaine had told him to take time, too, because if there was even the tiniest of chances that he and Kurt could get back together, the only way it would possibly work would be if there was no lingering resentment between them, if Kurt was absolutely and positively sure that he wanted to be with Blaine.

So Blaine told himself to wait. He had waited for Kurt for almost three years before, and he could do it again. Because Kurt was worth waiting for. Because he knew Kurt would come back to him, eventually.

At least that's what he had thought.

Because ever since Kurt had officially been declared virus-free, he had, slowly but steadily, grown more distant and contemplative. Where they used to be comfortable having breakfast in just their boxers, nowadays Kurt would always be fully dressed when he left his room, locking the bathroom whenever he was taking a shower. Where they used to cuddle in front of the television in the evenings, now they would each sit in opposite corners of the couch. It isn't so much that Kurt seems uncomfortable touching Blaine -his little outburst about Mercedes had proven that much- but more like he is trying to take a step back, to assess what it is that they have, and where he wants it to go.

And even if Gary is right that Kurt should know what he is in for, Blaine is reluctant to give him another argument against getting back together, especially now that he already seems to have second thoughts.

For a few, long minutes neither of the brothers speaks, the only sounds coming from the onion sizzling in the pan and the sharp thuds of knives cutting food. Blaine follows Gary with his eyes as he throws the parsnips in the pan and adds water, but then Gary turns around, sighing as he looks at Blaine inquisitively.

"Ok then," he finally says. "It's your choice. Change of subject. Mom asks if you're coming home for Thanksgiving."

"Nooo... ," Blaine groans at the mention of their mother, stretching his arms in front of him on the table and letting his head fall between them. "No no, please - let's get back to how horrible a friend I am to Kurt, all that secrecy and stuff, we really need to talk ab-"

"Blaine," Gary cuts him off sternly, sending his little brother a pointed look when he lifts his head in response. "Thanksgiving."

"But it's two months from here!" Blaine whines. "Why do I need to decide that now?"

"It's six weeks," Gary corrects him, "and we want you to decide now because if you don't you'll wait until the last minute and then make some lame excuse about how you couldn't get a decent flight anymore like you did last year. And the year before."

"So you're not asking if I'm coming, you're telling me to book my ticket already."

Blaine has pushed himself up half on his side, his head resting on one hand, looking down at where he's drawing absentminded patterns on the surface with the other. The posture, together with the casual tone he has adopted, makes him seem almost relaxed, but there's a tension in his shoulders that wasn't there before.

"You haven't been home since last winter."

"I was there in July."

Gary rolls his eyes, moving to the cupboard to take out some spices.

"To go to grandma's funeral, and you were gone the next day. Come on, Blaine, mom misses you."

"She misses me?" Blaine spits out, his relaxed attitude instantly gone. "How quaint. I didn't know she had it in her - she certainly didn't miss me when she shipped me off to Dalton."

"That's not fair and you know it," Gary retorts, equally indignant. "It wasn't easy for them."

"Oh what, and it was easy for me?" Blaine's eyes are blazing now. "I'm not the one who was scared of being around their own kid and sent them to boarding school, Gar!"

Gary slams the lid back on the pot with too much force, and the clang echoes around the kitchen, making Blaine jump.

"No, you're just the one who stopped taking his meds without telling anyone!" Gary sneers, turning around. "You know perfectly well mom and dad didn't ship you off anywhere. You were getting in too much trouble at school, it wasn't safe for you there. You came up with Dalton, and as for the boarding thing, I seem to recall that was your own choice as well."

"Because I couldn't stand the way they looked at me!" Blaine exasperates. "Like they were... like they..."

He pauses, breathing heavily as he tries to find the right words.

"... were worried about you?" Gary supplies with a tilt of his head.

"Ashamed of me, Gar," Blaine corrects him, voice cold. "Like I was some kind of freak."

"They never thought you were a freak, Blaine," Gary sighs, moving back to his chair. "Yes, it was hard on them, and no, they didn't always react the way they should have, but neither have you. It's been over four years, don't you think it's time to try to get over that?"

Blaine shrugs non-committally. As far as he is concerned, the weekly e-mails from his mother are an improvement over the painfully awkward phone calls he'd had to endure his first year in New York, but even if he might be prepared to admit that he carries part of the blame for his less-than-optimal relationship with his parents, it doesn't mean he's willing to forgive them for their part. The looks on his parents' faces when Gary explained them what had happened, the way in which their conversations would fall silent whenever he entered the room in the months after that, the panic in his mother's eyes that time he dropped that vase and cut himself cleaning up... - they are etched in his memory, and it would take more than time and a turkey dinner to fix that.

His reluctance must be visible on his face, because Gary sighs.

"They miss you, Blaine," he pleads. "I miss you when I'm there. And I just want to celebrate Thanksgiving with my family for once. My whole family."

Blaine glares at him - he loves his brother and Gary knows that, but he doesn't usually call on it to get Blaine to do something, and the fact that he does so now disconcerts Blaine in more than one way. Still, Gary is his only brother, and if this is important enough for him to ask a personal favor...

"Maybe."