Chapter One

Kurt has always hated funerals. He hates death and he hates crying. More importantly, he hates seeing the face of the person that will never wake again, will never smile again, will never love again. He hates seeing the pained looks on their loved ones' faces, hates listening to the bullshit people spew about how great the person was, and how lucky they were to have met them. Half the people here hadn't spoken to him before he died. They just want an excuse to make themselves feel better.

Kurt hates when young people die before they have a chance to live.

His name was Benjamin, but everyone called him Benji. He was the first person Kurt and Blaine knew personally to have died of the infection. Kurt met him at the university after Benji invited him to the Sadie Hawkins' dance. Kurt had been mortified and embarrassed that this guy was asking him to a public school dance—something Kurt had never imagined he would do. But Benji just smiled his crooked smile and said, “This ain't Kansas, honey. This is New York, where we can do whatever we want, and whoever we want.” They ended up going to the dance together, and even after Kurt told him that he had a boyfriend back in Ohio, Benji had been completely understanding. Of course, he did tease Kurt by saying, “How many goats did he offer you? I bet I can offer more.”

Kurt already misses the way he teased him.

He's thankful he has Blaine, who gently places his hand on Kurt's knee, squeezing softly to make sure he's okay. This has been terrifying for both of them, but Blaine especially. Here he is in a new city, the city where dreams come true, and a plague has swept across their little community. Nobody really seems to care about what's happening, but Kurt can tell that Blaine is a little bit freaked out, and somehow Benji's death makes it seem even more real.

When the ceremony part of everything is over, and after they've buried Benji's coffin, there's a little pause for socializing before everyone leaves. Kurt quickly seeks out Benji's partner, Elliott. He still looks numb and empty, like he can't process that Benji is actually gone. Kurt's heart pangs a little when he sees his glassy eyes looking at nothing. He quickly pulls Elliott into a long hug.

“You alright?” Kurt asks, rubbing his hand up and down his back. Elliott just stands there, his hands limp on either side of Kurt.

“I can't believe he's gone,” Elliott murmurs. “Like, he's really gone.”

Kurt can feel tears springing to his eyes again. He quickly gives Elliott one more squeeze before letting go. He grabs Blaine's hand and ushers him away.

“Where are we going?” Blaine asks.

“Home,” Kurt replies. “The park. I don't know. Anywhere but here.”

It's getting late, and because neither have them cars, they take the nearest subway back to their apartment. They're both silent the whole way back and Kurt is trying his best to keep everything in. Blaine tries to calm him down by rubbing tiny circles on his back, but it doesn't help. He's too angry, too hurt, too confused to do anything but stare blankly at the ground. When they get back to the apartment, Kurt throws himself onto the couch and buries his head in his hands. Blaine grabs a bottle of water from the fridge before sitting next to Kurt on the couch.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Blaine asks.

“Yes,” Kurt says quickly. “No. I don't know. I just…did you see Elliott's face? It was heartbreaking.”

Blaine nods and rubs his back. He offers Kurt some water, which Kurt accepts without a second thought. He chugs half of it before handing it back to Blaine.

“I knew that the virus was going around the community,” Kurt explains, “We all knew about it. We all tried to do our best to be safe. Elliott and Benji even went to checked, and they both came back clean. And now Benji is just…gone.”

He's crying now. They're furious and angry tears. Blaine throws his arms around him and Kurt collapses into his body.

“It's not fair, Blaine. It's not fair,” Kurt whimpers.

“I know, baby. I know it's not fair.”

“So many of our friends are dead,” Kurt sobs. “What if—what if it happens to us?”

Blaine takes his face in his hands. “Don't talk like that. It's not going to happen to us, okay?”

Kurt sniffles and nuzzles his face against Blaine's hand. “How do you know?”

Blaine takes a deep breath and shrugs. “I just know.”

Kurt wants to believe him so bad. Besides, things like this just don't happen to two boys from Ohio.

* * *

With the weeks to come, two more of their close friends have died. A month after Benji's funeral, a total of five. The community is torn into two groups--half of them are too afraid to even look at each other, while the other half doesn't even care about what's going on. Kurt and Blaine have volunteered at the center to try and hand out fliers advertising the effects of the infection. Both of them get tested regularly, until the doctor tells them not to come back.

The number of patients the doctors are treating has nearly tripled since the first time they went. Dozens of men with lifeless faces lie there, sacks of skin and bones, unable to even lift a finger. Some of them come unexpectedly, their bodies contorted in inhuman positions. There's nothing anybody can do to stop this plague. Nobody knows where it came from. Nobody knows how to stop it. No matter what doctors say, no matter what new treatment they think will work, it never does.

Men keep dying, but even more don't care.  They still go about their promiscuities, shooting up and having sex with any guy willing to. Their excuse is that they're still young and feel so alive, so why not set yourself up to die? Kurt wants to grab all of them by the shoulders and shake some sense into them. But none of them bat an eyelash for them.

“We have to do something,” Kurt insists one morning while reading the newspaper. Another boy, an eighteen year old high school student, collapsed in the hallway of his school. He couldn't move, couldn't even speak. By the time they brought him to the hospital, he was already dead.

“They won't listen to a word we say,” Blaine informs him for the umpteenth time. He places a mug of coffee in front of him and kisses the back of his head. “All they care about is getting laid.”

“It's not right,” Kurt says. “We have to make them care.”

“By doing what? Telling them they can't have sex?” Blaine demands. He takes a sip of his orange juice and looks at Kurt matter-of-factly. “You and I both know that's not going to work.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. Obviously he knows he can't ban gay sex. That would defeat the purpose of even having a gay community in the first place. But there has to be a way to inform the rest of the community about what's really going on. He explains this to Blaine, who shakes his head.

“They already know what's going on,” he explains. “Everyone knows someone who has died. The problem is that they don't want to acknowledge that this is a very real thing.”

“Well, I'm going to make them realize that they have to stop thinking about having sex for five minutes and acknowledge the fact that we're dying!”

Blaine smiles at him. Kurt folds the newspaper up and tosses it in the trash. He leans against the kitchen counter for a moment, pondering how to convince people to be more careful with one another. He's so lost in thought that he almost doesn't notice Blaine creep up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and leaving soft kisses on the back of his neck.

“You don't have to change the world, you know,” Blaine whispers against his skin. Kurt's eyes slip closed and Blaine can feel the air shudder out of his lungs.

“I know,” Kurt sighs. “But nobody else will, so it's up to me.”

Blaine sighs and rests his forehead against Kurt's shoulder. “I hope you know what you're doing, Kurt.”

Of course he knew what he was doing. He was Kurt Hummel, after all.

The quest to change the world starts at the university. Kurt rallies up as many gay students he that he knows and asks them to meet up for a special meeting. Blaine is there, giving everyone juice boxes and bowls of potato chips. Elliott is there, too, handing everyone pamphlets and trying his best to smile. He's still not over Benji's death.

“Hello fellow gays,” Kurt says once everyone quiets down. “And welcome to my little meeting. Now, as you know, there's an epidemic in our community. It's killing our friends and our lovers, and it must be stopped.”

“How are we going to stop an illness?” someone pipes up from the back. Kurt smiles.

“I'm glad you asked,” he says. “We can stop this by informing people about it.”

Everyone begins to murmur. Kurt shifts on his feet uncomfortably. This is not the reaction he was expecting to get.

“Everyone already knows about it,” someone explains again. “They don't give a shit about it. Why would we, a bunch of university students, make them change their minds?”

More murmurs. Kurt looks to Blaine for support, and he quickly jumps to his rescue.

“We have to show them the truth behind it,” Blaine explains. “We have to show them the facts and tell them how it really is.”

Someone at the back of the room snorts loudly. Then, a velvety voice says, “There aren't any facts to show.”

Everyone turns to look at him. He's tall, has a face of Disney prince and hair to match. Kurt's only seen him once before and vaguely remembers his name. He doesn't even remember inviting him.

“Hi, Sebastian Smythe. What you're proposing is that we show the gay community the truth behind this awful disease, but not even doctors know the truth.”

More murmurs. Blaine has to shush them so Kurt can continue talking.

“The truth we need to show them are the signs and symptoms of it,” Kurt explains further. “We need to show them that once you're infected, you're not going to have those rock hard, greek god abs you worked so hard to get. You won't be the beautiful prince you once were. It's the truth, and we need to show them that truth!”

A few of them start clapping, and Kurt smiles at himself. This is the reaction he was expecting. He looks right at Sebastian, who nods slowly, a sly smile creeping on his face. Kurt stares him down, then Blaine appears by his side, slipping his arm around his waist and kissing the nape of his neck.

The group starts to make a plan: they need to organize the best graphic designers and artists they know, the best photographers, party planners, writers, anyone who can help spread the word.

Kurt can feel that it's the beginning of something, whatever that something may be.