As Thanksgiving drew closer, Blaine could feel his anxiety growing. He spent as much time as he could in his dorm, telling his mother he had a major English paper due right after the holiday. In reality, Blaine just could not face going home and seeing his parents any sooner than necessary. He knew he would have a hard time keeping up the airs required for civil discourse with his family. He just did not have the energy to put on the mask of the happy, dutiful son, not now, not with what the holiday now meant to him.

Blaine hadn't heard from Kurt again since his last letter. He didn't expect to, not with all that Kurt would be doing between then and shipping out. He still hoped though. The care package he and Judy worked hard to fill was sent off with enough time to meet Kurt at his newly assigned post. He had nothing more to do but wait for Kurt to make his way half way across the world. Blaine waited until late Wednesday afternoon before heading to his family home. His mother was already in bed by the time he arrived, and his father was shut away in his office, not even deeming his arrival important enough to interrupt his work. Blaine was glad of it though, he didn't want to face his father yet, not without the buffer of his mother, or even Cooper to temper what he knew would be judgmental eyes.

By the time Blaine woke in the morning, the smell of turkey was wafting into his room from the kitchen. As he strode down the hall, he could hear his mother ordering Mary around the kitchen. She hardly glanced up at his as she hassled around the space checking on the various pots pans and platters in various states of readiness. Mary, however, smiled at him before offering him a small stack of toast to eat. He thanked her before heading into the living room. His father and Cooper were sitting in front of the television a football game playing in the background as they talked about cases from the office.

Blaine did not escape his father's notice long though, he was just expounding on an inheritance case when he glanced at his younger son. His usual serious face morphed into a scowl as he took in Blaine. "You look like a goddamned hippie faggot!" he yelled. "I thought once you returned to school you would clean yourself up a bit; this is not the image of a future lawyer. You look like you should be out the protesting instead of studying law. What is up with you son?"

Blaine could feel his nerves tingling with anger. He balled his fists up to try to hold it in check as he answered his father. "I'm sorry you don't approve father, but I don't stand out as much in classes as you would think. A lot of guys now are growing their hair out and dressing like this," he said indicating to his plain jeans (not bell-bottoms he knew better than to test his father too far) and t-shirt.

"I just don't understand your generation, didn't Dalton teach you how to present yourself as an honorable member of society and not the scum that is littering the streets now. What was the point of paying all that money if they weren't going to shape you into something we can be proud of?" His father fumed. "Look at Cooper, he turned out alright. He never came home dressed like a freak his hair fit for a girl. Why can't you be more like him?"

Blaine glanced over at Cooper while he had the decency to look uncomfortable and ashamed. His voice was cool as he spoke, "We'll, father, as you already have one son like Cooper, I thought it might be nice if I could just be Blaine."

"Did they teach you to be a smart ass at that new school?"

Blaine actually found it in himself to smile, "No sir, I came by that naturally."

This was the wrong thing to say as his father rose to an impressive height and boomed, "Go to your room! Get out of my sight!"

"Gladly," Blaine mumbled as he left. His skin was still crawling with anger as he threw himself on his bed. He stared at his ceiling trying to control his breathing. Never before had he spoken to his father that way. He didn't think anyone had ever spoken to his father that way. While it was terrifying, it was also exile rating to know that he could actually stand up and seemingly ruffle to the man that for years had seemed untouchable. As the anger began to dissipate, a small smile crept onto Blaine's face.

He had been lying on his bed about twenty minutes when's staccato knock sounded at his door. Without even sitting up he called to the visitor with a simple, "yeah", knowing that if it was his father it would infuriate him further, but not caring in the slightest. When the door swung open though, it was to reveal Cooper.

"Mind if I come in?" He asked.

Blaine rolled his eyes at the too proper way his once enthusiastic brother asked for entrance. "Why yes, my dear brother, by all means enter." He answered finally sitting up.

Cooper sat across from him, silent, for a whole minute before he took a deep breath and spoke. "What is going on with you?"

"Did our father send you in here?" Blaine asked, not putting it past his old man to enlist Cooper's help in solving the problem that Blaine had become.

"No, in fact, he thinks I'm in the bathroom. Of course by the time I make it back he will have either figured out I was in here talking to you, or taking the world's most impressive dump." He said with a smile, a glimpse of the old Cooper shining through.

"Well, he was always of the opinion that you shit gold..." Blaine laughed, bitterness coloring his voice.

Cooper shook his head. "It may seem like that to you, but I get my fair share of grief from the old bastard too. Remember, I have to work with the man. The difference is that I pretend as if I am listening to what he says; I don't outwardly defy him. You didn't use to either... what changed?"

Blaine couldn't hold in the sigh, "I just decided that it was more important to me for me to be happy than to please someone who will never be satisfied with who I am."

Copper leveled him with a serious gaze, "I'm not telling you that you shouldn't try and be happy, but like it, or not in just a few years you are going to be working at the firm. You have to at least keep the illusion that you are doing what is expected of you. If you don't he will just make your life miserable. Mary doesn't want kids yet, if ever, I'm not sure if I want them either. So she went on the pill. Do you know how hard it is to keep convincing him that we are trying for a baby? For years, we have put him off, but he still hounds me. However, I will continue telling him the same sob stories for as long as I have to because I love her. Do you get what I am saying?"

"Cooper, I'm not just talking about the wife and kids things that he expects." Blaine said with a shake of his head. "There is so much more that he won't accept whether I hide it or not. But either way, I will not be joining the firm in a few years."

"Of course you will, neither of us had a choice in that." Cooper laughed, the idea seeming so ridiculous.

Blaine gave a mirthless chuckle, "Well choice or not he will have a hard time justifying my hire considering I am not studying law."

"What?"

"I'm an English majors whether he likes it or not."Blaine challenged.

"Dammit Blaine," Cooper whispered urgently as if afraid speaking louder would alert their father to the situation. "Where in the world did you get the balls to do a dumb thing like that? What do you think he is going to do when he finds out?"

Blaine slumped against the wall. He had never thought about what his father might actually do if he found out. He didn't want to think about what consequences his decision might have had. "I don't know. But, Cooper, I had to start doing things for myself. If this doesn't make him disown me, I am sure he could find a myriad of other reasons in my life."

Blaine waited anxiously for Cooper to ask what he was talking about. Cooper seemed to be examining him with his eyes. After a minute he sighed, "Okay, I just want you to be happy. But if worse comes to worse, just know that Mary and I are always here to help if you need us. No matter what it may seem like to you I haven't sold my soul to him yet." With a pat to Blaine's knee Cooper stood and left the room. Blaine looked after him, a feeling of peace washing over him for the first time all week. It was nice thinking that no matter what he might not lose his entire family.

Dinner was a stoic affair, Blaine's father sending him disgusted looks every few minutes. No one talked about Blaine much; it seemed Cooper and the usually reserved Mary, kept the conversation on anything but the youngest Anderson. Blaine was thankful for their interference because as the meal dwindled on the table, Blaine thought about what he was planning to do the next day. When he finally left the table, his slice of turkey covertly hidden underneath his napkin, Blaine was already a bundle of nerves again.

As they sat in the living room, plates of pie and cups of coffee in hand, Blaine could hardly concentrate on the talk of whatshisname down at the country club and the latest news of whatever company he worked for. Unmindfully he swatted away his mother's hand as she pulled on one of his curls.

"Blaine!" Hs father barked at the action.

Blaine looked sheepish at his mother's startled expression. "Sorry," he said genuinely, "I was lost in thought, you startled me."

"When are you going to cut it dear?" She asked obviously worried.

He snuck a peek at Cooper when he said, "Probably when I get accepted to law school."

This seemed to appease at least his mother who smiled warmly at him. When he snuck another glance at his brother, he saw him trying to hide a smile by taking another large bite of pumpkin pie.

Blaine soon escaped back to his room, though he heard his mother whisper in worried tones about him as he left. He was thankful for Mary once more as she assured his mother that it was common for teens nowadays to pull away from their parents, saying she had seen it many times in her students, most of which came out of it to lead highly successful lives. He clicked his door behind him, cutting off any remarks anyone else could make.

The next morning, Blaine made sure not to leave his room until he heard his father's car pull out of the driveway. He dutifully ate the eggs his mother set before him, wordlessly leaving the bacon behind. As he made his way to the door, his mother asked where he was headed. Blaine answered with an ambiguous, "just to visit and old friend."

In reality, Blaine was headed towards Lima to visit a woman he had never personally spoken with, but who's image would be forever etched in his brain. Music drifted over him as he headed down the highway, his brain automatically figuring out the chords as he drove. He checked the scrap of paper with vague directions once more as he turned into the town proper. He just hoped that she would not be working today.

The house stood before him, small and unimpressive. It's pale blue paint was weathered and chipping and the house itself seemed devoid of life even though a light could be seen from the front window. It looked like a place that though once filled with joy, now mourned.

He walked up the front pathway, wiping his now sweaty hands on his jeans before raising them to knock on the wooden door. Blaine strained his ears trying to detect any movement from within. He stood there for a full minute before the door opened to reveal the same plump woman he had once seen standing in the middle of a farmyard. "May I help you?" she asked, looking at him with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Yes, ma'am, my name is Blaine Anderson; I believe Kurt may have mentioned me in one of his letters."

"Oh, yes," she said standing aside and motioning him in the door. "Please come in."

Blaine followed her inside the small living room, politely declining her offer of something to drink. He sat on the green floral couch as she took a pale pink armchair opposite him. They sat in silence for a moment before she said, "I've seen you before haven't I? You were at the farm when I..." Se trailed off obviously as bothered by their last near meeting as he was.

"Yes, ma'am" he told her.

"I have to tell you, I didn't tell Finn..." she began again.

"I know, he said as much himself. I was there when he came and took Kurt away." Blaine told her trying to keep any anger out of his voice.

She shook her head sadly, "Sometimes I don't understand that boy. He just gets an idea stuck in his head and there is just no talking him out of it. It's just like when he first started talking about joining the marines. Even losing his father in Korea, did nothing but make him feel like he had something to prove, to live up to Chris' legacy. What he wouldn't understand is that his dad didn't want to go and fight. He enlisted to avoid being drafted. He was hoping that he would just serve his time and be trained for a job in the process." She paused and took a breath. Blaine had no idea what to say so he kept silent. "When he found that letter... He started yelling, waving it around. Said he knew where he was, I tried to tell him he wasn't there... But then he just knew I had seen him and he tore out of here. I had no idea what he had actually done until he came back. Kurt, he has always been a special boy. Neither of them ever told me what happened while they were in High school, but I know Finn... I just worry about Kurt."

"Me too." Blaine added when she trailed off. "But Kurt, he is stronger than anyone could imagine."

"Oh, I know he is a tough one," Mrs. Hudson chuckled, "I have never seen someone lose so much and still stand so strong. I don't think I could have survived losing Burt without him. I don't think he realizes how much he helps people."

Blaine shook his head sadly, "then I guess they actually found him the perfect job."

Carole laughed, "Too bad they don't have artists' posts in the army; he would have been perfect for that. Have you ever seen his art?"

Blaine couldn't help but smile. "Every piece I could get my hands on, but not nearly enough. He is exceptionally talented."

"How did you meet?" She asked leaning forward in her chair. "He told me that you were his best friend and that it was important that if anything happened I am to find you and tell you. But he never said how you met. You didn't go to McKinley with them did you?"

"No ma'am," he replied before explaining to her about Jeff's broken down car and repeated trips to the farm after. He left out any I depth talk about their relationship besides, "we just clicked."

The two of them sat talking for hours, Mrs. Hudson eventually bringing out photo albums to show off pictures of her boys. Blaine marveled at pictures of a not much younger Kurt with his hair shaggy but not yet long smiling gently at the camera. He laughed when he saw pictures of Puck his hair cropped short donning a football uniform alongside a gentler looking Finn. He caught his first sight of Mr. Hummel, his heart catching at how different he looked from the way he imagined. He wasn't the tall thin man Blaine always pictured Kurt father to be, he was burly with a gruff yet friendly face. Searching the picture though, Blaine could see the resemblance between the two.

Eventually, Mr. Hummel no longer popped up in the pictures. Kurt's smiles where tinged with sadness as his and Puck hair grew longer. As time passed in the pictures, light seemed to come back to his eyes and his smiles widened and became more carefree. Soon after a graduation picture of the three friends, Kurt disappeared from the pictures as well. This was when she gently closed the latest album and laid it aside.

Blaine excused himself to the bathroom, where he willed is tears to stay at bay. Seeing Kurt, in those last pictures, looking more like the Kurt he knew hit him hard. He missed the carefree look in his eye that was missing in the one picture he had of him. After a few minutes, he emerged finally in control of his emotions once more.

Carole sat still on the couch where she had moved to narrate the pictures to him. She played with something in her hands as he approached. As he sat, she handed him a picture saying, "it is such a lovely picture of him, and I thought you might want to have it."

He looked down and in his hands was a picture of Kurt, not looking at the camera but at something unseen. His eyes were crinkled in mid laugh and his face was framed but long locks of chestnut hair. His eyes seemed to glow with mirth, warmth, and life. Blaine couldn't help but hold the picture to his heart, as if holding it would bring the same boy back to his arms. His previously banished tears made themselves known again as he whispered, "thank you" with as much feeling as he could muster.

"Burt loved his son more than anything. When we first started dating, one of the first things he told me is that if I couldn't accept his son one hundred percent, it wouldn't work out. I love Kurt as much as my own. All Burt wanted, and I feel the same, is for him to be happy." She said her gaze never wavering from Blaine's face.

Blaine wasn't sure if she meant what he thought she meant but regardless his heart warmed at the thought that it could be true. "Kurt deserves to be happy," he finally agreed. He paused a moment before adding. "If I have anything to do with it, when he gets back, he will be happy."

"Good," Carole said simply.

Soon after, Blaine loaded back into his car, but not before receiving a sweet hug and assuring Mrs. Hudson, he would try not to be a stranger. Instead of turning his car back to his parents place, he headed back to Kent. He decided that he deserved to be happy, and spending another minute in his father's presence would not help him in that matter. He marveled at the sad fact that he would rather spend his time alone on a mostly empty campus than with his family. He surged off the thought and instead sang along to the radio as he went.

It wasn't until almost two weeks after thanksgiving, just as finals were about to begin that he heard back from Kurt.

November 30, 1969

My amazing and dearest B,

I loved seeing your smiling face again, if only in a picture. I swear you have gotten more beautiful in our time apart; I wanted to just rip you from the paper and just hold you. But then I remembered where I was and decided you would be better off where you were. As much as I would love to be with you again, I want you safe and sound.

Thank you so much for the care package you sent. It was overwhelming to arrive here and already have something from you waiting for me, and it was absolutely perfect. Everything was all that I was missing and more. I'm afraid the men already hijacked my candy, but that's okay, I snuck one bag away. I think my favorite thing besides the pictures of course, was the soap. There is something about that soap that makes me feel almost like myself again. I remember Nanny teaching me to make it the first time when I was 5 and her laughter when I tried to taste it because it smelled so good. Oh and my sketchpad and pencils, I don't know when I will have the time to use it, but it is good knowing it is there when I want. I promise to take as many pictures as I can. Part of me doesn't understand why you want pictures of this place, but then again, Looking at the ones you sent me, it was nice seeing the things you see every day.

I feel like so much has happened since I wrote you last.

It's funny, when I graduated high school I remember feeling excited as the date approached. I knew by then that I would not be going to college, so I assumed that it would be the only graduation I would have. Even knowing that I would not be attending college, that I would be heading to the farm instead, I was filled with so much hope and I just knew that I would continue doing that I loved. And for over a year, I did. Not only did I continue my art, I taught myself new things, I experimented with it in ways I probably never would have in school. I found a pride in working the land like my grandfather. But most of all I met you and you made me the happiest I have ever been.

I did have another graduation though, two in fact, one from basic and then this latest one. When we graduated from basic, it just felt like a breath before diving back under. I knew that it wasn't really marking the end of anything; none of us were going on to bigger and better things. It just showed that we survived one peril before being thrust into the next. This last one though, filled me with dread. There were all these people there celebrating our accomplishments as if most of us weren't heading into combat in the near future. At times, it felt like a proper Irish wake, but the dead, we were still walking around. I was glad you weren't there. Don't get me wrong, I would never turn down and opportunity to see you, or spend time with you; but I don't think I could have handled seeing you there smiling and laughing with the rest of them. Though now that I think about it, I don't think you would have been smiling either.

San Francisco was beautiful, at least the small part I saw of it as I traveled with the three other guys who flew out of Texas with me. No one said they were my personal escort, but it felt that way. I didn't really get to see much but the airport, but the glimpse I saw when we went to get some food before our other flight left was breathtaking.

Although the view was the only good thing at the airport. A woman yelled at me and spit on my uniform. I read in the papers about My Lai, I understand her anger; it is a horrible thing to happen, for people to do. I just wish she wouldn't take it out on me. I tried not to listen to the words she said, still it turned my stomach.

It's funny; my first time seeing the ocean was out of a plane window where I had to crane my neck around my seatmate to see it. I also never flew in a plane until the army either. I guess I should look on the bright side and see the things I might never have done otherwise, but it's hard.

Vietnam is a beautiful country, at least it would be if there weren't a war going on. You can catch sight of the beauty though through the burned out blast pitted remnants. They have napalmed large patches of vegetation, and once vibrant and living jungles are dead and burned. Rice paddies decorate the lands and I could see grasses sway in the wind as the chopper took me to the base.

Oh and once I got here I got the surprise of my life. My friend Artie Abrams is part of my company. I think I told you about him. We were pretty good friends, more class friends than hang out afterschool friends, I didn't have many of those. He was just a good guy who tried to be nice to everyone. Anyway, he was drafted a few months out of high school, maybe more. He's been in country for eleven months now, so he only has a few more weeks left. I am glad he is going home soon, but I am also happy to have a friendly face here, at least for a while.

So far, things have been okay, not much for me to do but my basic health checks on the men yesterday and today, and administering malaria pills. Oh and as medic since I'm not on guard duty, I get the lovely task of burning the latrine waste, and yes, it is as enjoyable as it sounds. Although I haven't been busy, things have been far from quiet here. Last night as I tried to sleep, the shelling started. Between the explosions and the return fire, even in my exhausted state I couldn't sleep. It lasted a couple of hours, no one shouted for a medic, so I just lay here and cried. I don't think I have ever been so scared. So another sleepless night for me. Artie told me you get used to it at some point, at least you get to where you are worn out enough you can go back to sleep afterwards. I don't know if I want that to happen, I don't know if I want bombs ever to be something that is easy to ignore.

I go out on my first patrol tomorrow. I will write as soon as I return, we are supposed to be gone for a week. Who knows by the time you actually get this I will probably be back. Try not to worry.

I love you my beautiful B, you mean the world to me. Just think only 11 months 28 days until I can return to you. Keep safe.

All my love,
K