He was just leaving the room when he heard his dad call after him.

"Kurt? Could I talk to you for a minute?"

Surprised, Kurt stopped and retraced his steps, poking his head around the door of his former study, current bedroom of his dad.

"I'm not going out, dad, I was just going to Blaine's to study."

"That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."

Burt looked at his son with a serious look on his face, and Kurt slowly sank down on a chair, suddenly feeling slightly ill at ease, waiting for his dad to speak.

"I was just... wondering... ," Burt started, rather apprehensively, "is something going on between the two of you?"

He was obviously no more at ease than his son was, and if Kurt hadn't felt so uncomfortable he probably would've found it endearing. As the matters were, though, Kurt felt his stomach twitch and his cheeks flush, and it cost him the greatest effort to remain calm.

"Why would you even think that?"

"Well... you're spending an awful lot of time with him," his dad tried to explain, "and I can see the way you look at him."

"We're studying together! You know I can't concentrate here when you're around all the time - no offense. And what's wrong with the way I look at him?" Kurt asked defensively.

"When did I say there's something wrong with it? It's just...," Burt paused, thinking how to formulate what he wanted to say in the best way possible. "It's different from the way you look at other people."

Inwardly, Kurt cringed - if even his dad had picked up on it... but he wasn't ready to admit anything. Not yet.

"Well, he is different from other people as well, isn't he? I mean, he's as good as my brother. I'm sure I used to look at Finn the same way."

"That's why I'm asking," Burt said, slowly, very aware he was walking on eggshells here. "If I remember correctly your feelings for Finn weren't always purely... brotherly."

He looked at Kurt, who was now turning a deep scarlet.

"Dad! There's nothing going on between Blaine and me!" He really didn't want to discuss his love life -or lack thereof- with his dad. "We're just friends!"

He stood up abruptly, grabbing his books to leave, but his dad's voice stopped him.

"Kurt, please... I'm trying here, okay?" Burt took a deep breath before he continued. "I'm not accusing you of anything, or telling you what to do. I was just wondering... if maybe he was the reason... you wanted to be at Dalton."

The words made Kurt freeze, and he could almost feel his father's gaze in his back. Slowly, he turned around, returning to his seat, although he didn't say anything.

"I understand what Barbara said," his father continued, "that it wouldn't be a good idea to switch schools again so close to the end of the semester, and I'm not arguing with that. But Kurt, I can see how hard they make you work there - I've never seen you study like that. And I'm pretty sure Dalton is actually farther away from here than McKinley. So whatever the reason is you initially transferred, it wasn't because it was easier. I may be dumb, but I'm not stupid. I'm not buying it, Kurt."

Kurt didn't say anything. He looked at his hands, resting in his lap, thoughts racing through his mind. His dad was bound to find out at one point, he knew that, and he h�d planned to tell him, he really had. Just... later. After Christmas, after they'd gotten home, after his dad was better recovered, after... well, just... later. And although he really didn't feel like talking about it now, he couldn't lie to his dad. Not again, not when he was asked about it so directly.

And so Kurt told him. About the bullying, that never really stopped, and about how Karofsky had threatened him - he didn't mention the worst of the threats, though, or how the jock had basically cornered him and... well... . He told him about Blaine finding out, and Mrs. Anderson, and about the endless, pointless discussions with coach Sylvester about who would or should be punished how. He told him about Dalton and its non-bullying policy, and how it had welcomed him, how he could feel safe there.

It was quiet in the room after Kurt finished his story, but it wasn't a comforting silence. Kurt had expected his dad to freak out, to get angry, but when that didn't happen there was little to do but to sit and wait. It seemed like hours passed before Burt finally spoke.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt. I'm so, so sorry I wasn't there for you."

Kurt smiled, reaching out for his dad's hand.

"You were, dad. I visited you every day and I told you everything. You were there."

But Burt shook his head. "I'm your father. You're my son. I should've been there, I should've done something..."

"There was just nothing you could do, dad. There was nothing anyone could do."

"Barbara did."

Another smile, and Kurt squeezed his father's hand.

"She did."

Burt put his other hand on his son's, and they sat silent for a while, enjoying the simple fact that they were together, now, that they were there for each other, now - really there.

"You know I can't... I mean... you can't..."

The expression on Burt's face made Kurt almost want to cry. He'd never seen his dad looking utterly lost, and the look of guilt and regret in his eyes was heartbreaking.

"I know," Kurt told him as he got up and hugged him, tight. "I know. It's ok. I'll be ok."

Kurt racked his knuckles on the door quickly, but didn't wait for a reply before entering. After his dad had taken over his study, it had quickly become a habit to study with Blaine in his room. Blaine had freed a little space for Kurt on the large, overflowing desk, preferring to study on his bed himself. That's where he was sitting now, looking up as Kurt closed the door and leaned back against it.

"You alright?"

"I told my dad."

Kurt needn't explain more for Blaine to understand what he was talking about, and the older of the two boys straightened himself a little.

"So... what did he say? Did he freak out?"

"No," Kurt shook his head, walking over to the desk, "although I almost wish he had. You should've seen him. He was so... sorry."

"Sorry?" Blaine asked, confused. "What does he have to feel sorry about? He was in the hospital, he couldn't-"

"Not that," Kurt interrupted him. "Well, that too but... he can't keep me at Dalton, Blaine. He just... we don't have that kind of money."

Blaine put down his pen.

"Kurt, I can talk to my mom. She adores you, I'm sure if you just asked, she wou-"

"Blaine... please?"

Kurt turned to his foster brother and it took Blaine only one look to understand what he was trying to say.

There was pride, of course - pride to be independent, to not need the Anderson's money, or their charity, but there was more to it than that. Dalton had been good to Kurt - it had given him a break he'd more than needed and deserved, and more importantly, it had shown him that what he had been through was not a foretaste of what was going to come: it could be different, and it would be. Dalton had given Kurt what Blaine had wished him - courage. Because however much Blaine told him there was no honor in fighting a lost battle, Kurt still felt guilty for running away from his problems, for leaving his friends. So no, it wouldn't be easy, and yes, it was freaking him out on more than one level, but going back to McKinley gave Kurt the chance to face his demons with renewed energy, and renewed confidence. Because he knew, now, that it would get better.

And if there was one thing Blaine understood, it was the need to fight his own battles. So he simply gestured towards the desk.

"You better start studying then, little brother - don't even think for a moment Burken's going to go easy on you because you're transferring out."

He winked at Kurt, who smiled back and turned around quickly to hide the blush appearing on his cheeks. He'd learned quickly that spending more time in Blaine's presence would not render him immune for that fluttering feeling Blaine's winks always seemed to induce - on the contrary even. Kurt sat down and shook himself mentally. Study, that's where his priority had to be. He couldn't help but glance back at Blaine though - but he immediately turned back to stare at his book, his blush deeper than ever. Blaine had still been watching him.

.

They had been studying in silence for over two hours when Kurt decided he desperately needed a break. He stood up from his chair, walking over to the other side of the room in an attempt to get the blood flowing through his legs again. Blaine was still sitting on his bed, legs crossed, looking at his Chemistry notes as if they were written in Chinese. Clearly, studying wasn't going well for either of them. Kurt stopped before Blaine's DVD-rack, thinking maybe he could pick out a movie for them to watch later, when his eyes fell on the cupboard immediately adjacent to it. It was filled with books, mostly, but one of the shelves was stuffed with something completely different - pictures, and ribbons, and trophies: Blaine's horse riding prizes.

Kurt threw a quick glance at Blaine before he stepped closer to the cupboard. He'd wanted to take a closer look at them after his conversation with Kyle a few weeks earlier, but for some reason, hadn't gotten around to it before.

There was a layer of dust covering the collection, which was rather odd seeing as Kevin was usually very meticulous when it came to cleaning. Kurt was pretty sure that those cups hadn't seen a duster in at least a year, though, and he couldn't help but think what a pity it was to see the trophies lose their shine. There were a couple of pictures there as well. One showed a much younger looking Blaine standing next to Meryem, carefully holding a small boy who was sitting on top of the horse. Both of them seemed to be having a great time, smiling broadly into the camera. There was a headshot of a brown, rather plain looking horse, and an action shot of Blaine -or so Kurt presumed-, bent over closely over his horse's neck as they hung mid-air over a brightly colored fence. Judging by Blaine's clothes, the picture was probably taken on the same day as the first one.

"How come you never taken me to see your horse?"

Now there was one question Kurt had never thought he'd ever hear himself say out loud... . Blaine looked up from his books, a surprised and -Kurt thought- slightly apprehensive look on his face.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing...it's just... I was wondering. You showed me around the house and the garden and the pool... but you never showed me the stables."

For a few seconds, Blaine just stared, and Kurt was almost afraid the older boy would throw him out of the room until he finally spoke.

"I didn't think you'd be interested. You're not exactly the horse-riding type."

"How do you even know?"

Kurt planted his hands in his hips, lips pouting, trying to look indignant. He failed miserably, though, and they both burst out laughing. It relieved a tension Kurt hadn't even noticed was there.

"Why the sudden interest in Tornado?"

"Nothing. As I said, just... curious. I saw your trophy collection," Kurt pointed with his thumb, nervously wiggling back and forth on his heels, "and I never realized you- wait, what, how is the name of the horse?"

"Tornado. Like Zorro's horse, you know?"

"Who?" Kurt's mouth fell open, and he almost burst out laughing again. "You named your horse after Zorro? Blaine, how old are you?"

"I didn't name him!" Blaine exclaimed, blushing nonetheless. "He had that name when we bought him! Although I do admit, his name might -might!- have helped in the decision process..."

"I cannot believe this..." Kurt shook his head, still grinning.

"I was eight, ok?" Blaine sounded indignant, but a grin was spreading across his face as well.

"So which one is he?" Kurt asked, pointing at the pictures.

"The one on the left," Blaine said, rising up from his bed, "where I'm standing."

Kurt frowned - he had been so convinced that horse was Meryem, because they both had the exact same, white, drop-shaped spot between their eyes. But as he looked closer, he could see that the animal in the picture was much darker than Meryem - a deep, dark brown that was almost black. He was about to comment on how similar both horses looked, when something stopped him. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to let Blaine in on the fact that he had been at the Dalton stables, if his reaction on Kyle's invite a month ago was any indication.

Blaine moved behind him, reaching over to take the picture. The sudden proximity made Kurt sharply draw in his breath, and he closed his eyes.

"Who's the little boy?" he managed to squeeze out.

If he'd have had his eyes open, he would have seen the sudden tension in Blaine's shoulders, and the way his knuckles whitened as he grasped the picture frame harder. He'd have noticed the hesitation in Blaine's posture and the way he, too, closed his eyes for a second before he answered. But as it was, Kurt didn't notice anything but the accelerated beating of his own heart.

"That's... Nicky. He's... was... he liked horses, a lot. He always hung around the riding school and he'd... " Blaine took a deep breath, "he'd come along to competitions once in a while."

"You look really happy, both of you," Kurt said, turning around.

Blaine smiled, his shoulders relaxing a little bit.

"That was my last win with Tornado. Third consecutive first place at the Ohio State Youth Championship - I broke my personal best that day." He pointed at the action shot. "I was so nervous... . Winning that trophy - that was one of the best days of my life."

Blaine looked back at the picture he was holding, a strange expression on his face that Kurt couldn't really place. There was pride, melancholy, and that look people had whenever they thought of a happy memory. But there was something else there as well - guilt, maybe, or remorse? It was hard to tell.

"Then why did you quit?"

The question escaped him before he even realized it, and Kurt looked away when he saw Blaine's face harden. Why was it that talking to Blaine was always so easy, unless the topic of conversation was horse riding?

"I just did," Blaine said bluntly, putting the frame back with a thud. "I lost my interest."

Kurt huffed as he watched him return to his bed.

"Now there's something I don't buy," he said, more to himself than anything else.

"What?"

Kurt startled - he hadn't expected Blaine to actually hear him.

"I said - if you really didn't care anymore, then why did you keep all the trophies and the ribbons? Why didn't you sell Tornado?"

"You really are curious, aren't you?"

Despite the still serious look on Blaine's face, his tone was rather amused, and Kurt took the chance.

"Oh, how shall I put this?" he asked innocently, slowly walking towards Blaine's bed. "Because I can be honest with you, can't I? We are brothers, after all, and brothers can trust each other completely. Brothers don't need to keep anything from each other. Brothers are always there to listen. Brot-"

"Kurt," Blaine interrupted him, smiling slyly, "are you using my own words against me?"

Kurt winked at him. When Blaine had found out just how much Kurt had not been telling him about the bullying at school, he had given Kurt a long, heartfelt, but mostly repetitive speech on brotherhood much like the one Kurt had just given him, and Kurt had been waiting for an opportunity just like this to turn the roles around.

"Not unless you're keeping things from me," he said playfully, sinking onto the bed on his knees.

But Blaine raised his hands, rubbing his face.

"You're making this into such a bigger deal than it really is."

"So tell me."

"No."

"Why not? If it's not a b-"

"KURT!"

Blaine had shouted, and if anything, it was that what made Kurt shut up. He had never heard Blaine shout before, and by the looks of it it meant that his foster brother was close to losing his patience.

"This is not about keeping things from you," Blaine said, visibly forcing himself to stay calm. "It lost its appeal. I lost interest. I quit. Alright?"

Kurt nodded silently, still very much impressed by Blaine actually shouting at him. That had not been his intention. At all. He let his eyes drift around the room, scared of looking Blaine in the eyes, when he caught sight of the guitar in the corner. Maybe he could try to make this right, somehow.

"Do you play the guitar?"

Blaine looked up, surprised, looking as Kurt jumped off of the bed to fetch the instrument.

"No. I mean, not really. My grandfather tried to teach me but... my talent is singing, not making music."

"O," Kurt looked a bit stumped, feeling ridiculous now standing there with the guitar in his hand. A little awkwardly, he put the guitar back and returned to the bed empty-handed. "You'll just have to hope I've picked up some acappella-skills during my two month-internship at The Warblers, then."

There was a moment of confusion on Blaine's face, but Kurt had started singing already.

Road trippin' with my two favorite allies
Fully loaded we got snacks and supplies
It's time to leave this town, it's time to steal away
Let's go get lost, anywhere in the U.S.A.
Let's go get lost
Let's go get lost

Blaine smiled, taking second voice for the next chorus.

Blue you sit so pretty west of the One
Sparkle light with yellow icing
Just a mirror for the sun
Just a mirror for the sun
Just a mirror for the sun
These smiling eyes are just a mirror for

Kurt could almost feel the tension leave his body when he heard Blaine harmonize with him. He wasn't sure why he'd chosen this song, exactly, it was just the first one that had come to his mind that had an intimate enough sound, but whose lyrics wouldn't embarrass him if he'd be singing it to Blaine.

So much has come before those battles lost and won
This life is shining more forever in the sun
Now let us check our heads and let us check the surf
Staying high and dry's more trouble than it's worth - in the sun
Just a mirror for the sun
Just a mirror for the sun
These smiling eyes are just a mirror for

In Big Sur we take some time to linger on
We three hunky dories got our snakefinger on
Now let us drink the stars, it's time to steal away
Let's go get lost right here in the U.S.A
Let's go get lost
Let's go get lost

Blue you sit so pretty west of the one
Sparkle light with yellow icing
Just a mirror for the sun
Just a mirror for the sun
Just a mirror for the sun

These smiling eyes are just a mirror for
These smiling eyes are just a mirror for
Your smiling eyes are just a mirror for

There was a moment of silence, but it was Kurt who spoke first.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to force anything out of you."

Blaine lifted his hand, but then decided against whatever it was he had been thinking of doing, and he let it drop back in his lap.

"I know. And I'm sorry for yelling at you."

"Still friends?" Kurt asked.

"Always," Blaine replied, lifting his hand again but putting it on Kurt's knee this time.

"Good," Kurt wouldn't have been able to keep the relief out of his voice if he had wanted to, so he didn't even try. "Could we go downstairs and eat, then, because I'm starving!"

Blaine nodded and they jumped off the bed together, and Kurt was out of the door in no time. Blaine, however, lagged behind a little, pausing briefly before the picture he'd shown Kurt. He resisted the temptation to rub his thumb over the little boy's face like he remembered doing so many times. It was no use, he told himself, he would never be able to do that again anyways.

"Blaine?" Kurt's voice came from somewhere down the hall.

Blaine threw a last glance at the shelf before he closed the door behind him.

"Coming!" he called.