"I'm not gonna do any of the sorts. Now shut up, will you? I'll see you at your place, and you will tell me."

"I always had this fascination with horses, I don't know why," Blaine started. He was sitting on his bed, leaning against the headboard, looking over Kurt who was sitting cross-legged across from him. "On my sixth birthday my parents gave me an outing to a riding school - I had this private instructor who was absolutely horrible and the pony they gave me was so old it barely even moved, but it was the best day of my life. After that, they signed me up for lessons in another school, and I would go as often as I could. I was... I know this is going to sound cocky, but I was good. I was good at riding, I was good at handling the animals, and I loved all of it. I started competing when I was 7, one of the youngest kids on the course but I kinda did well for myself. That's when my grandfather bought me Tornado. I remember going with him to see all these people, all these horses, but it was never right. But when I saw Tornado, I knew. I knew it was him. No need to mention he was the most expensive horse we'd seen. But I didn't know that until years later, obviously."

Blaine chuckled at the memory before he continued.

"Training with Tornado was so much easier than it had been with the horses from the riding school. As I said, it just... clicked... between us. It wasn't until we switched from hunting to jumping that it really took off, though. Riding became my life and I spent as much time on Tornado's back as I possibly could, going to competitions almost every weekend."

"Everyweekend?" Kurt asked, incredulously. "Are there even that many competitions? And didn't you have school or something?"

Blaine shrugged.

"I was smart enough that it didn't really affect my grades. It was only elementary school, too, and a public elementary school at that. And I got really good at making homework in the car - my grandfather got very passionate about the whole thing and he drove me everywhere, I swear there's not a town in Ohio I haven't been."

"So that's how you got all those ribbons," Kurt gestured behind him, at Blaine's trophy shelf. To his surprise however, Blaine burst out laughing.

"Let me show you," Blaine said, stepping off the bed and walking towards another cupboard. He only barely touched the box, even when he stood on his toes, but somehow he managed to pull it off the shelf and return it to the bed. It was a rather large box, and when Blaine took off the lid, Kurt's eyes almost popped out of their sockets. It was filled to the brim with ribbons, and medals, trophies, pictures and other memorabilia that Blaine had collected over the years.

"You... you won all of these?" Kurt asked. "Like... all of them?"

The look on Kurt's face made Blaine burst out laughing once more, although it was obvious he was actually very proud to be able to show Kurt this.

"All of them," he nodded.

"Wow... ," Kurt was speechless, rummaging through the box and picking out random stuff. "I never realized you were so... "

"Obsessed?" Blaine offered, smiling.

"... dedicated," Kurt finished, looking up at Blaine. "You really are good at this."

Without warning, Blaine's face fell.

"I w�s."

Something in the tone of his voice alarmed Kurt, and he looked up from the box to find Blaine had moved back to his previous spot on the bed - elbows on his knees, head on his hands.

"Oh Blaine, I'm sorry... ."

"It's ok... ," Blaine shook his head. "It's part of the story, after all."

He traced his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath.

"When I started middle school, things became a bit... harder on me. I had to put in more effort for school, the level of the competitions I was doing increased, and hormones started to kick in. The first year things were not so bad, but by the end of sixth grade rumors were starting to go around that I was gay. I don't think I was even sure myself at that moment, so I tried to just... avoid the subject, use the many hours of riding and training as an explanation for my complete lack of interest in girls. To my credit, I d�d train very hard, and I got my first state title that year." Blaine smiled faintly. "My grandfather... he was so proud. Even more so than I. He knew about the rumors, I think, because he tried to get me to talk about girls a little as well, but I got away with telling him I felt I was too young for all that, and anyways he preferred me to focus on my 'career'."

The last words sounded a little bitter, but Kurt let Blaine talk. It was his story, after all.

"Then, in seventh grade, a new kid transferred to my school. Patrick. We became best friends faster than Harry and Ron did, I swear, although I still have no idea what brought us together. Back then, I was really shy, and reserved, and he was this typical boy, you know: handsome, confident, popular with the girls without even having to try."

Kurt couldn't help himself.

"I know a guy like that," he giggled. He clearly remembered the time when New Directions had decided to take over his coffee date with Blaine and Mercedes, and how all the girls had flocked around Blaine like flies around a jar of honey. He never did miss an opportunity to tease Blaine about it, and to Kurt's satisfaction, a small smile appeared around the lips of his foster brother.

"Yes, well, as I said... I wasn't exactly confident at th�t time," Blaine winked, "but I guess Patrick had more than enough confidence for the both of us. He wasn't just in my class, too, he rode at the same school as well. It was just what I needed at the time - a friend who shared my interests, who I could relate to. As an added bonus, because he was almost constantly surrounded by girls, I got a lot better at dealing with them, too. I don't think the rumors ever really died, but nobody bugged me about it anymore, at least, and that was all I was asking for. And then, when I thought things couldn't possibly get better, they did."

He lifted his hand to point at something behind Kurt, and Kurt turned around, not sure what exactly it was that was supposed to grab his attention, since the cupboard Blaine was pointing at was overflowing with stuff.

"Nicky."

"The kid in the picture?" Kurt asked, turning back to face Blaine.

Blaine nodded, the same look on his face as he had worn a couple of weeks ago - that strange mixture of good memories and guilt.

"He's my foster brother."

"You never told me that!"

"I guess it never really came up," Blaine shrugged. "He came with us right before the Christmas holidays that year and God, Kurt, you should haven seen him... he was six, but he looked no older than four: tiny, skinny, dirty - but with the biggest smile you could imagine.

The thing with Nicky was, he loved horses. I mean, I took all our fosters to the stables at one point or another, I swear there's not a single kid that has stayed in this house that has not spent at least one afternoon on a horse's back, and they all liked it. But Nicky... Nicky didn't just like it, he adored it, as much as I did, and he was almost better with the animals than I was, too. And that's saying something. What?"

Blaine looked almost indignant at the sound Kurt had made, but there was a mischievous light in his eyes.

"It's true!"

"I'm sure it is," Kurt smiled, patting Blaine on the knee in a fake patronizing way, "I'm sure it is."

"Anyway!" Blaine huffed, pretending to be hurt. "I'd found my balance between school and riding, Patrick and I got along more than great and I had the cutest little brother who would follow me around wherever I went and basically treat me as if I were the most important thing in the world. Everything was perfect. So of course I had to screw it up."

When Blaine didn't immediately continue, Kurt raised his eyebrows questioningly, but it still took Blaine a couple of deep breaths before he continued.

"One night after competition my grandfather caught Patrick kissing me."

Kurt gasped. "He what?"

"It was only a small peck, I swear!" Blaine looked like a beaten puppy. "Like our lips barely even touched. But a kiss is a kiss, I guess... and that little peck was the beginning of the end of my public school life."

"You transferred to Dalton."

"Not immediately," Blaine said, "Patrick did, though, and I haven't seen or heard him since. I guess he made the wisest choice... . But I... you see, my friends at the riding school didn't seem to make a big deal out of it. I got teased, obviously, but it never got mean. In retrospect they probably just held back because they didn't want to lose one of their most promising riders, but at the time it felt like they just didn't really care, you know? And anyways, it had happened after competition, on location, and the people from riding school only found out because my grandfather was making such a huge fuss over it when he caught us. The point is... I didn't even think the people at school would find out."

Another deep breath.

"But they did."

"So... that's when you started getting bullied, too?" Kurt asked tentatively.

Blaine nodded.

"I made it through eighth year, somehow. I have Nicky to thank for that, really. He always found a way to make me smile, to make me feel better. My dad had explained to him what being gay meant, and why it was bad, but he either didn't understand or didn't care, because he never once judged me for it. I remember we were watching this Disney movie, Aladdin, and he was sitting there with his little head in his hands and sigh - 'oh, princess Jasmine is so pretty'. And then he looked at me and asked: 'Do you think Aladdin is pretty, too?'. That was Nicky right there. I don't think he really understood what it was that I was going through at school - he saw the bruises and my torn school books, of course but... he was young enough to believe that a kiss on the sore spot would somehow heal it, make all the bad things go away. And because he believed it, I believed it too.

I distracted myself by training even harder - I had won my second title the year before and for some reason I thought that maybe, if I had three consecutive titles, people would start... respecting me... or something... . But it was hard, harder than before. Tornado was getting older, for one. My grandfather refused to see me anymore and I couldn't always get to the competitions I needed to be. My mom gave up a lot for me, that year, but it wasn't the same - for all he hated me later, my grandfather had really supported me and coached me ever since I got my first ribbon, and my mom... it just wasn't the same.

And again Nicky was just... there. Sitting on the fence during every single practice, tagging along to every single competition, taking care of Tornado when I had too much work for school to do it all. And, I made it. Third title. That's when that picture was taken. It didn't change anything, though."

Blaine smiled faintly as he felt Kurt's hand close in around his, giving a little squeeze. He didn't have to explain anything to Kurt.

"I thought I would be able to start over in high school - it was a new school, in a different district, but word travelled fast. Things escalated. Dalton to the rescue."

The last sentence was said almost sarcastically, but the shame that was bubbling underneath Blaine's words was almost tangible to Kurt.

"You're not a coward, Blaine," he said softly, "you didn't run away. You took matters in your own hands and made sure you would be safe."

"Words," Blaine shrugged it off. "They're words, that's all they are. It doesn't change the way it feels."

In an instant, Kurt was right in front of him, lifting his chin with a single finger, making sure Blaine was looking at him when he spoke.

"There is no shame in asking for help, Blaine. You told me that. There is no shame in turning your back on people who don't care about you."

Blaine looked up, surprised.

"Well look at you," he said, smiling despite himself, "going all big brother on me. Where did you learn that?"

"I had a very good teacher," Kurt winked, "Blaine Anderson, you might have heard of him. One of the strongest people I know, although he doesn't always practice what he preaches."

The words hit home, Kurt saw and then Blaine took Kurt's hands in his, pressing a light kiss on them.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now continue the story because even though the history of your horse riding career is fascinating and I am aware of the traumatizing effects of bullying, I still fail to see why you freaked out on me earlier."

"Yeah, well... I was kinda hoping I would have bored you to death by now," Blaine replied.

He said it jokingly, but it was crystal clear to Kurt this was the part of the story Blaine was fearing to tell the most.

"Blaine..."

"All right! All right... ," Blaine raised his hands in defeat, "I'll tell, don't worry, I'll tell. See? I'm telling."

Kurt gave him a playful push, trying to relieve some of the tension that had suddenly filled the room, but it still took Blaine the better part of the next minute to start talking.

"I don't have to explain to you what a relief it was to be at Dalton. To not be afraid anymore. To have room for breathing. There was Kyle, and I didn't even care whether he was gay or not, just the fact that I could look at him, could develop this massive crush without anyone giving me shit for it, it was... amazing. They had the Warblers, too, and I auditioned as soon as I could. There was no show choir at my old school - I didn't even know I could sing, to be honest, I had always been so focussed on riding. I just thought it was so cool what they did, and I wanted to be part of that. And then I found out that Dalton had an equestrian team and... oh God, I thought I would die from happiness. And then when I saw Meryem..."

He looked up at Kurt.

"Meryem is the horse Kyle was grooming when... well, earlier. I don't know if you saw but she has this spot on her forehead, almost identical to the one Tornado has."

Kurt nodded. He knew this, already, but he wasn't about to tell Blaine that he'd been at the stables with Kyle before, or that he knew who Meryem was - one freak-out a day was more than enough, thank you very much.

"And it was like this... sign... . Because it was becoming pretty clear Tornado couldn't take show jumping for much longer anymore, and since I was switching age categories it was the perfect time to start training with someone new. Meryem had a stronger temperament than Tornado, and it took some time to find our balance but once we did it was just... perfect. The only downside of Dalton was the distance, and the workload, because it meant I got to spent much less time with Nicky. I took him to Dalton when we had weekend practice sometimes, though, and he would usually watch a movie in my room whenever I was studying.

I didn't expect to win that year, and to be fair I have to admit my competitors didn't perform nearly as well as they usually did but... I won. I still don't know what was the best part - actually winning, or returning to school the next day. At my old school the year before they had welcomed me with a swirley. At Dalton the headmaster gave a speech in front of the whole school to congratulate me and the Warblers carried me around on their shoulders like I was some kind of hero. It was unreal. I had never really understood the concept of 'crying out of happiness' before, but that day... I cried my eyes out."

Blaine sighed, the conflicted look on his face a stark contrast with the happiness he had just been telling about.

"And once more it was proven that perfect can never last."

Kurt didn't say anything, grabbing Blaine's hand instead, feeling instinctively that whatever it was that had screwed up Blaine's 'perfect' this time, it was worse than your grandfather walking in on your first kiss.

"A couple of weeks into the summer, I was at Dalton, practicing with Meryem. Nicky had come along with me - he was sitting on the fence reading a book as he usually did and I'll never forget that image, he looked so peaceful and content, the sun shining in his hair. But that day... ," Blaine pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, "I still don't know what got into her. I know they had her examined to see if she had been in any pain, and they combed out the course for nails or something she could've stepped in, but they couldn't find anything. But for whatever reason it was, she... she reared and I got thrown off. I never got thrown off before, Kurt, never."

Blaine bit his lip, an exasperated look in his eyes, as if, to this day, he couldn't believe it had actually happened. And although Kurt knew that, obviously, Blaine was alright now, he was almost afraid to ask.

"Were you... did you get hurt?"

"A broken ankle," Blaine shrugged. "Some crushed ribs. A lot of bruises everywhere. All things considered I was really lucky."

"But that's... good, right?" Kurt said nervously, not sure why Blaine looked so... devastated. "If the worst was a broken ankle then that's good, right?"

He gave a little squeeze in Blaine's knee, but the other boy didn't even look at him.

"Nicky."

It was the way Blaine said it, the finality in his voice, the drooping of his shoulders, that made Kurt feel ice cold.

"He must have run on the course when he saw me fall - I don't know, I was still dizzy and trying to pull myself together, I didn't see him. I think he wanted to calm Meryem down, or maybe he was running to me and he just didn't look - as I said, I wasn't fully aware of my surroundings, I didn't actually see it happen. But he... she hit him. Meryem hit him. And he was so tiny, he was only eight, Kurt. He was so tiny, even for his age and..."

Blaine tried to fight back the tears that welled up in his eyes, but it was no use - they were streaming down his face, and the sobbing all but broke Kurt's heart.

"Was he... was he alright?" he asked. He knew it was probably a useless question, but he had to know. He didn't expect Blaine to say what he did, though.

"I don't know."

"Wh... what?"

"I don't know," Blaine repeated, looking up at Kurt now. "I don't know."

"How can you not know? I mean, you were there, weren't you?"

Kurt didn't understand - Nicky was staying at the Anderson's at the time. And seeing how fondly Blaine had spoken about the little boy, Kurt couldn't imagine he hadn't visited him in the hospital.

"Do you remember when you helped my mom with her Christmas cards? When I dropped that ornament?"

And Kurt couldn't believe the puzzle in his head only fell together now. Nicholas Ramsay. Nicky. The boy they had lost contact with.

"Kyle was the one who called 911," Blaine started explaining, "he was cleaning the stables when he heard me scream. They took Nicky and me to the hospital separately - I vaguely remember seeing the paramedics slide his stretcher in the ambulance. That was the last time I saw him.

They put him in ICU, but because my parents and I weren't strictly family, we weren't allowed to see him, and the doctors refused to tell us anything. I'm guessing he was pretty badly injured because he was officially taken out of our care and the CWA started an investigation. I'm not too sure what their exact conclusion was, but apparently my parents should not have let me take him to Dalton unsupervised, and we were suspended from the foster program for a year.

We tried everything we could to get him back. There were appeals and hearings and everything, but... nothing. So we tried to just get to see him. Then to just know how he was doing. My mom even offered to pay the medical bills, thinking that, if we could get our hands on the original invoices, we might be able work out what had happened to him from the examinations that had been charged. But nothing worked - they wouldn't tell us anything.

We held on to the fact that they would have told us if he was... you know... "

Blaine struggled to say the word, but Kurt slowly shook his head, moving forward to wrap his arms around the boy in front of him. He could feel Blaine bury his face in his neck, holding onto him with everything he had, and it made him hold the other boy even tighter.

"It wasn't your fault," he whispered.

"I lost control," Blaine retorted, "I knew Meryem had a temperament and I let myself forget about it. I lost control."

"It wasn't your fault," Kurt repeated, "she's an animal, they are unpredictable sometimes. There's nothing you did wrong."

"I should have instructed Nicky better. I always praised him for how good he was at handling the horses. He ran onto the course with Meryem still freaking out because I made him overconfident."

Kurt pulled away, taking Blaine's face in his hands to force him once more to look at him.

"You fell off a horse. He was worried about you. People do stupid things when they are worried about someone, especially when they're eight. It was not. your. fault."

"That's what everybody said," Blaine said dully. "My mother. My therapist. Kyle. But I had to blame someone. I couldn't accept that it had just... happened... . And so I... I started to blame Meryem. She was the one who threw me off, after all, for no reason. And I just got so mad at her. So mad."

He shook his head, as if he was trying to get rid of the feelings that were plaguing him.

"So you quit... "

"I couldn't anymore, Kurt!" Blaine looked up at Kurt pleadingly, his eyes still red and puffy from crying. "I couldn't! I just... every time I as much as tho�ght of her I would just... get so angry. I couldn't even be around Tornado for the longest time, because... that spot, you know, it made me think of her and... I got so worked up, in the end even just the smell of the stables was enough to make me freak out, because I would just remember the accident and Nicky and how I didn't know how he was doing and how I wasn't there for him and I- he had always been there for me, Kurt! Always! And right when he needed me, I wasn't there for him!"

Tears appeared in his eyes again, and it was all he could do not to start crying again.

"So when Nate told me... he told me he'd seen you go to the stables and I just... panicked. You've probably never even seen a horse up close before, you don't know how to deal with them, how you're not supposed to walk right behind them, ... you wouldn't know what to do if something happened. And then when I saw you, you were standing like... right next to her. And Kyle... he kn�ws. If anyone knows, it's him, and I couldn't believe he let you get so close to her, couldn't believe he didn't realize the danger he was putting you in and... I freaked. I just... I would have never forgiven myself if anything had happened to you."

"Hey... hey, Blaine, look at me!" Kurt searched for Blaine's eyes, squeezing his hands. "I'm alright. You see? I'm alright. Nothing happened. It's ok. And I promise I won't go anywhere near a horse ever again without your explicit written permission, ok?"

He winked at Blaine, but the other boy paled in shock.

"Oh God," he said, suddenly appalled, burying his face in his hands. "you must think I'm such a weirdo. I totally overreacted, didn't I? I did. I totally did. Oh God."

Kurt laughed softly.

"A little, maybe".

Blaine cringed, groaning with embarrassment.

"I told you you'd think I'm pathetic."

"Blaine!" Kurt sounded suddenly firm. "Blaine, you're not pathetic. You're not a weirdo. You're a kind, caring person who got a little carried away."

"A little?"

Blaine raised his eyebrows, sending a questioning look at Kurt who immediately started giggling.

"Okay, a lot. But hey! Look at you joking about it, right?"

"Right," Blaine smiled, "but the fact remains that I'm still freaking out about stuff that happened almost two years ago."

"You lost a brother, Blaine! Of course that's going to affect you, no matter how long ago it happened! These things take time... and I know you've started riding again, at least, so you can't deny you're making progress. Just... give yourself time. You might want to take a course in anger management though, because that whole protective-older-brother-thing you got going on? It's freaking scary."

Blaine gave him a playful push, and Kurt tumbled over, laughing, glad that they could banter about it, at least. He quickly recomposed himself though, placing his hands in his lap.

"So, what's the plan?"

"What plan?" Blaine asked, confused.

"Why, the plan to find Nicky, of course."