He mumbled a 'good morning' before he took out a bowl from the cupboard and filled it with cereal. He was just about to take the milk out of the fridge when he heard his name.

"Kurt?"

He turned around but didn't say anything, just looked at Mrs. Anderson in silence. He wasn't angry with his foster mother per se - after all, she had always treated him right, and was even paying for his tuition by herself. Still, like Blaine, she had neglected to warn him about her husband's lingering homophobia, and even worse: she hadn't come to his defense when Mr. Anderson had started spouting his hateful monologue.

"Kurt... Kurt, I'd like to apologize on my husband's behalf... - he... he shouldn't have said those things. Especially not on a day like Thanksgiving."

The comments would have been equally hurtful on any other given day, Kurt though bitterly. And although he could tell that Mrs. Anderson was genuinely sorry, and he knew how hard it had to be for her to apologize, he wasn't going to let her off easily.

"I'm not gonna say it's ok," he said rather unforgivingly, "because it's not."

Mrs. Anderson nodded, embarrassed almost.

"I know. I don't expect you to. It's just... it's not really his fault, you know. Mike's family comes from Provo, Utah, and he's been raised in a very conservative environment, with little exposure to more liberal ideas. He's never learned-"

"Education explains why a preschooler calls his classmates 'faggot' for an insult," Kurt interrupted her. "It's not an excuse for a grown man for being an ignorant, short-sighted asshole towards 10% of the world population, including guests he invited in his home and family, and his own son. It's also not an excuse for anyone else not to raise their voice when confronted with such ignorance."

His words hit home, Kurt could see, but he wasn't done yet.

"I can only imagine how it must feel for Blaine to live in an environment like that."

He heard a noise behind him, and he didn't need the look on Mrs. Anderson's face to see who had just entered the kitchen.

"When I was placed in foster care, I was assured that I would find an accepting, open-minded family here. A place where I could be myself. A home. Instead, I've found lies, and intolerance. And I deserve more than that. So why would I let someone call me a coward if all I've done was to finally stand up for myself and refuse to let others use me as their personal frustration outlet? Why would I accept that, if the real coward is that man, who rather allows himself to alienate from his own son than to stand up against his family?"

Kurt turned around to face Mr. Anderson. There was a grim expression on the older man's face, but Kurt saw no reason to care for it, if the man didn't care about him, either.

"I'd say, call me if you have something to teach me about being a man," he said patronizingly, "but I wouldn't want to waste my time waiting for it."

He didn't even wait for an answer but stalked out of the kitchen, taking his breakfast up with him.

-o0o-

The rest of the Thanksgiving weekend passed rather uneventfully, but Kurt was nevertheless happy when he could finally escape to Dalton come next Monday. He was sure Blaine felt the same, although his foster brother had seemed largely unfazed by his father's outburst. He had apologized extensively to Kurt, of course, but somehow had been able to completely ignore the fact that Mr. Anderson's comments had not only been hurtful towards Kurt, but towards himself as well. Any attempt of Kurt's to bring it up had been brushed off, however, and he had finally given up - it was, after all, something between Blaine and his father, and when it came down to it, it was simply none of his business.

Still, when Kurt arrived at The Warbler's practice that Tuesday, he was feeling particularly cheerful. He had been able to catch up on a lot of schoolwork over the weekend, he had just gotten excellent feedback on his French paper, and he'd kept his head high around Mr. Anderson who, much to his gratification, had been avoiding him the past couple of days.

As he walked over to one of the couches, he could see most of the other members were already there. Nick and Jeff were at the back of the room, sharing a chair, giggling over some magazine. He saw Tiago, a Brazilian exchange student he had Algebra with, at the chess table with Nate, another boy from his class. Trent stood next to them, clearly giving instructions, trying to ignore the paper planes that some of the other boys were throwing at each other. At the other end of the room Thad and David sat waiting at the counsel's table, ready to start the session as soon as their chairman would join them.

Kurt just sank down in a couch when Wes entered, followed by Blaine, who immediately started handing out the sheet music he was holding. The room started buzzing as the boys began discussing the sheets they received, but they were quickly silenced by Wes' gavel.

"Warblers!" he shouted, "We've been working very hard towards Sectionals next week, and I'm very proud of you all. But we're not there yet, if we want to win we need to focus-"

Kurt was hardly listening. Wes was a nice guy, he found, whose determined, organized nature made him a perfect chairman, but he talked too much. He smiled at Blaine who fell in the couch next to him, taking the last of the music sheets from him. Seeing the song, his smile grew even wider, and he immediately raised his hand.

"Kurt?" Wes frowned. He, along with the rest of The Warblers, had been utterly impressed by their newest addition's voice. He had been less impressed, however, with Kurt's tendency to stand out, rather than to blend in.

"Could I take the lead for this?"

Wes looked at his fellow council members, slightly annoyed, and it was Thad who spoke.

"Actually Kurt, we were going to assign the lead to Blaine."

"I don't mind," Blaine said, shrugging his shoulders when he saw the other Warblers gasping at him in surprise. "You said this was just a motivational practice session anyways, didn't you?"

There was a whisper among the council members, and a small discussion seemed to arise until finally David held his hands up.

"Okay, why not?" He winked at Kurt. "Go ahead, Kurt."

Kurt beamed as he heard the other boys start up the beat, and he got up, clicking his fingers to the rhythm.

Inhale the joy, inhale the fun
Now it's time for me to get on top
Of the world

Inhale the music and the warmth
The crowd is ready to bring me to the top
Of the world

He danced through the choir room when the other Warblers joined in for the chorus, letting their voices carry his even further.

Cause the world is mine
I won't stop this time
Cause the world is mine
And I'm feeling so divine

Kurt froze in front of Nick and Jeff, and in the meeting of their eyes they counted down together: papa-ra-pa-paa!

I'm part of this illusive show
Time for me to get on stage
Lights fade

Tomorrow you'll be at my feet
Saturated senses set me free
It's all I need

He remembered Mr. Anderson's face when he had called him out on his homophobia, and Kurt smiled. He'd show them - he'd show all of them. Not just Mr. Anderson, not just Karofsky, but every single homophobe that would ever cross his path: he'd show them all just how much he was worth.

He turned to Blaine - The world the world is mine

who effortlessly took over - I won't stop this time

And when they both sang the rest together, Kurt knew he wasn't alone.

The world the world is mine
I won't stop this time

Oh noo...

Cause the world is mine
I won't stop this time
Cause the world is mine
And I'm feeling so divine

Blaine watched, laughing as Kurt let himself fall back in the couch, his fellow Warblers patting him on the shoulders. It was good to see him like this, he thought: smiling, happy, surrounded by people that were maybe not yet friends, but had all the potential of becoming them. He felt his heart swell in his chest when he thought how Kurt had changed in such a short time. After only a couple of weeks, it was already becoming clear just who Kurt Hummel could be if he was given a chance, if he didn't have to waste his energy on people trying to bring him down. And Blaine felt proud, proud of Kurt, of this beautiful boy, who was on his way to becoming so much more than he himself probably realized. Yes, Blaine thought, he was proud to be able to call Kurt his brother.

-o0o-

Although it was a beautiful day, the temperatures still only barely reached the freezing point, and Kyle struggled to keep warm as he was walking to the back of the Dalton domain, where the stables were. He wrapped his arms around him, softly rubbing his body when he saw someone sitting on one of the benches along the path. It was clear from the uniform that it was a fellow student, but it wasn't until he came closer that Kyle recognized him.

"Hi Kurt."

Kurt looked up, his hand above his eyes, squinting against the sun who was standing low at the horizon.

"Kyle. Going for a walk?"

"I was just on my way to feed the horses. But how come you are sitting here - plans on a career as an ice popsicle?"

Kurt smiled, despite himself, gesturing towards the main building.

"I just had to get out of there for a while. Mr. Burken..."

"Oh, say no more," Kyle laughed - that same joyful endless laugh Kurt had heard him laugh the first time he'd met him, at The Warblers' performance. "I've heard about Mr. Burken. I haven't had the misfortune to be one of his pupils, but I've been on the receiving end of Blaine's complaints."

Kurt grimaced.

"I've been on the receiving end of Mr. Burken's complaints... and once too often, I'm afraid. I've been helping my dad in the garage since I could walk, I know what I'm doing - I really do. But he just needs to quibble about every little security detail..."

"You're forgetting one thing," Kyle interrupted him as he shoved away some of the snow and sat down next to Kurt. "You're not being trained to be a mechanic. You're being trained to be the CEO of a nation-wide chain of garages."

Kurt rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Now that would be a dream come true."

"Well then, no need to worry about A+ marks then, is there?"

Kyle nudged at Kurt, who didn't seem at all convinced, and patted him on the knee.

"Say, why don't you come with me, let me introduce you to the girls? It'll get your mind off things... and it'll be warmer than sitting here."

Kurt hesitated - voluntarily entering a stable where a significant amount of large mammals stood sweating, pooping and smelling together wasn't exactly on his bucket list. But he had to admit there was logic to Kyle's argument: it would be a lot warmer. Well, that and it would give him the chance to find out a little bit more about the senior. Which team he played for, for example. He finally nodded.

"Okay. But if one of them bites a hole in my uniform, I will send the bill to you."

"Deal."

Kyle smiled. "Come on, let's go."

.

The smell wasn't as bad as Kurt had feared, but he still entered the stable a little bit apprehensively, keeping a safe distance between himself and the animals who were peeking out from their boxes. They seemed to recognize Kyle, Kurt thought, as the black-haired senior greeted them one by one, talking softly to them while he gave them their share of oats for the day. Kurt left him to his business and started walking slowly through the stable, reading the name plates that were attached above the entrance of each box. He stopped when he recognized one of the names.

Meryem.

At first sight, Meryem's box seemed to be empty, but when Kurt stepped a little closer, he could make out the dark shape of a horse standing against the opposite wall. Even as a layman, Kurt could see she was a beautiful animal. With the sole exception of a white, drop-shaped spot between her eyes her fur was brown - a clear, bright brown that reminded Kurt of Blaine's eyes (although, Kurt had to admit, there were many things that seemed to remind him of Blaine these days, so maybe this was just in his head). She held her head high, and her eyes glistened brightly in the dimmed light of the stable.

"She's a beauty, isn't she?"

"She is." Kurt looked as Kyle entered the box, not daring to follow the other boy. "Is this Blaine's horse?"

"She's technically from Dalton," Kyle said, "and he doesn't ride here anymore. But they won the championship together, yes."

"The championship?" Kurt raised an eyebrow. "What championship?"

Sure, Kyle had called Blaine "our champ" right before their argument a couple of weeks back, but Kurt had assumed it had just been a matter of speech - that it referred to an actual title had never even occurred to him.

"The Ohio State High School Jumping. Blaine won first place as a freshman on his first entering almost two years ago. He was the youngest winner in the history of the Championship. Then of course, he won the Youth Championship 3 times in a row as well, so it wasn't entirely unexpected."

Kurt suddenly remembered the trophies and medals he had seen on one of the cupboard shelves the first time he had been in Blaine's room. They had seemed dusty and he had never paid them much attention. Maybe he should've, he thought.

"Why don't you come here?" Kyle beckoned with his hand to Kurt, who was still standing right outside of Meryem's box. "She loves to be stroked. And she won't bite, I promise."

There was little doubt in Kurt's mind about the first part of that statement, but he wasn't too sure about the second half. And although he couldn't see any, he was pretty sure there was horse poop hidden somewhere between the straw on the floor he wasn't exactly eager to walk into. But Kyle kept beckoning him, and Kurt reminded himself that he needed to be on friendly terms with this boy if he wanted to get to know him better - refusing the offer might come across as rude. And so, ignoring the smell, watching carefully where he was placing his feet, Kurt slowly walked towards the large animal who was standing across from him. Kyle stepped aside, nodding encouragingly, and Kurt reached out.

Meryem's neck was warm and soft under his touch. Kurt wasn't sure what he had expected, but the feeling wasn't at all unpleasant, almost relaxing even, and if he hadn't been so convinced that the horse's IQ was somewhere in the single digits, he would've thought that she was leaning into the touch, enjoying it and finding it at least as relaxing as he did.

It was strange, Kurt thought, that Blaine had quit jumping if he had been so obviously good at it. Of course, the academic pressure at Dalton was high, and Kurt saw every day how hard Blaine had to work to keep up with all the extracurricular activities on top of his regular schedule. But if you had to make choices, didn't it make more sense to choose what you were best at?

When he voiced his thoughts to Kyle, though, the other boy slowly shook his head.

"Blaine didn't leave the horse-riding team because he was too busy with those other things."

"But... that's what he said last time, didn't he?" Kurt was confused. "That he couldn't do horse-riding on top of his current schedule? How can you even be sure?"

"Because he only joined Math Club and the School News Paper and all the other crap he's keeping himself busy with after he quit."

The way Kyle said it, it sounded surprisingly cynical, and when Kurt turned to look at him, he saw a dark shadow cast over the senior's face.

Then why did Blaine quit?

The question was burning on the tip of his tongue, but Kurt could tell it was useless asking. Even if Kyle knew the answer -which, for some reason, Kurt was pretty sure of- he didn't look like he would be telling Kurt. There was something else Kyle had said that had attracted Kurt's attention, though...

"You said Blaine doesn't ride here anymore, but you've invited him a couple of times, haven't you?"

To Kurt's surprise, Kyle chuckled.

"It's become some sort of joke between us," the senior explained, "I ask him for a ride, he makes some ridiculous excuse, we agree to do it some other time, and then we start all over again. Blaine hasn't set foot in the Dalton stables since last summer - he hasn't really had a reason to, either, seeing as he quit the team. No, the only horse you'll see Blaine on, is Tornado."

"Who?"

Now Kyle turned at Kurt, a look of surprise in his eyes.

"How long have you been living with Blaine, exactly? Surely you must have met his horse?"

There was an accusing tone in Kyle's voice, and for a moment Kurt actually felt guilty. He had never had any interest in Blaine's hobbies, preferring to bond over things he liked himself rather than to explore other interests.

"Not really," he shook his head, "Blaine never talks about it. I didn't even know he had it until a couple of weeks ago."

"Him," Kyle corrected him. "Horses are noble animals. They get personal pronouns."

"Oh."

For some reason, Kurt now not only felt guilty, but stupid as well. Fortunately, Kyle didn't seem to notice his sudden discomfort.

"I can't believe Blaine's never taken you to see him," he mumbled, more to himself than to Kurt. "Obviously he hasn't offered to teach you to ride, either, then?"

"Wh... what?" Kurt was confounded. "No!"

"Would you?"

"Would I what?"

"Want to learn to ride?"

Kurt looked at Kyle, baffled at the proposition. Kyle, however, looked at him with open, clear eyes, and Kurt's stomach clenched as he felt himself almost drawn into them.

"N...no... not really..." he stuttered.

"Too bad," Kyle shrugged, patting Meryem on the shoulder, saying her goodbye. "Let me know if you change your mind!"

He walked out of the box, leaving Kurt behind, who suddenly found himself alone with a horse in a rather confined space. As quickly as possibly -but still careful not to thread in any poop- Kurt followed after Kyle. Glancing at his watch, he noticed it was getting quite late already, and he gave a quick wave to Kyle before he hurried out of the stable. Suddenly, he was quite anxious to get home, but it wasn't until he was almost back at the main building that he remembered that he still didn't know anything more about Kyle.

-o0o-

Blaine threw his bag in the back of the car, and Kurt followed his example.

"Who's driving?"

Blaine shrugged, but went to the passenger's side. "You go."

Their conversation was light and easy - complaining about their respective teachers and discussing what movie they wanted to see next. Kurt had trouble to focus on the lighthearted subjects though, his encounter with Kyle still fresh on his mind. He was still contemplating whether or not he would bring it up when Blaine changed subjects, just as the exit for Kenton drew closer.

"Were you still going to visit your dad?"

Kurt was surprised, but he nodded. "Why?"

"I was thinking of coming along. If that's ok with you, of course."

Blaine had never come along to any of his after school-visits to the hospital, and Kurt quickly glanced at Blaine before he answered.

"Ehm... sure. It's kind of... depressing there, though. Wouldn't you rather I drop you off home instead?"

"Not really," Blaine shook his head, "home's more depressing, I'm sure. And I kind of like hospitals, to be honest."

"You do?"

Sure, Kurt thought, there was a certain tension in the air at the Anderson's household, but to say he would prefer a hospital was still a little far-fetched. But Blaine smiled.

"Yeah. Kind of. I mean, I know that people feel that it's depressing with all those people sick and everything. But just think about it: if somebody's in the hospital, then that means that people are trying hard to make them better, that people care about them. And that's a good thing, right?"

It took Kurt a couple of seconds before he realized Blaine indeed had a point. He still wished his dad didn't need to be taken care of in the first place, though.

"And you can go and visit them, see how they're doing. Imagine they would've just taken your dad away and only let you see him again once he got better. That would be even worse right?"

Kurt didn't reply, instead wondering how Blaine even came up with this stuff like this. The thought of not being able to visit his dad seemed a complete nightmare to him. He got lost in his own thoughts, and apparently so did Blaine, because nothing more was said until they arrived at the hospital.

.

"Hi dad!"

As usual, Kurt walked straight to his father, pressing a kiss on his forehead, before putting down his bag and taking off his coat.

"I've brought Blaine along with me," he continued, "you remember Blaine, don't you? He was here on Thanksgiving?"

"Hi, Mr. Hummel," Blaine waved, a little awkwardly. How exactly was he supposed to greet a comatose man whom he'd never actually met?

"I'm going to get some coffee. Blaine, you want some?"

"Sure. A me-"

"-medium drip," Kurt smiled, "I know."

He took his wallet before leaving the room and made his way to the cafeteria. It was just down the hall, and the lady behind the cashier desk smiled in recognition when he entered the room.

"Kurt! What can I get you today?"

"The usual," he said, "and a medium drip. With cinnamon flavor."

The lady's eyes widened a little bit.

"An extra coffee?" she asked, "Is your... did he wake up?"

Kurt stared at her for a moment, not sure what she meant, until he realized what she was asking.

"No," he said, face falling, "not yet. But he's getting better. I know he is."

"I'm sure he is, honey, I'm sure he is," she smiled encouragingly, putting her hand on his when he reached for his wallet, "and just leave it, love, this one's on me."

Kurt smiled gratefully as he put both coffees on a platter, adding a cookie and sugar for both him and Blaine.

"Thanks, I appreciate it," he said as he scooped up the platter and made his way to the exit, "I'll see you later!"

"Say hi to your dad from me!" she shouted after him.

"Will do!"

Kurt turned towards his dad's room, shaking his head over how full she had filled the coffee cups. He had never been more grateful they had lids, because he was sure otherwise he would have spilled coffee all over the place. He carefully made his way trough the hall, but it wasn't until he entered his dad's room that he became aware of the voices that were coming from within. When he finally did, though, there was a clash as the platter he had been holding slipped out of his hands, coffee spilling all over the floor.

"Kurt? Would you mind explaining me who this gentleman is?" Burt Hummel asked. "And why are you wearing that silly uniform?"