"I'm not talking about this anymore Kurt." Blaine walked away from him outside their tipi where they had been debating for the past ten minutes.

Kurt folded his arms over his chest, heels already dug into the dirt below his feet. His face was firm, resolute. "You don't get to make these choices for me. I'm doing it."

"No. It was a mistake for them to invite you. You're asking for trouble." Blaine spun in spot, his hands moving to either side of his body in an exasperated gesture. Beyond them, a small group of curious older children were watching them argue, but Kurt was relying on the fact that none of them would be able to understand Blaine or himself as they spoke heatedly.

"Bear Mother seemed to think it was a good idea." Kurt informed Blaine, whose wide triangular eyebrows rose in surprise and then pressed together in confusion. Kurt kept talking before Blaine could get a word in. "Besides. You say trouble but you never really elaborate on what that means. What trouble could I possibly get into Blaine?"

"You just could." Blaine huffed and gave an angry glance back towards the children who make small yelps of surprise at being spotted and scattered away rapidly under the glare.

Kurt shook his head and stepped over to Blaine, setting a hand on his shoulder, "How about you let me worry about me for a change?"

Blaine looked at the hand as if it was completely foreign and then up at Kurt's face, "Fine. You get into your own trouble. I wash my hands of it." He shrugged Kurt's shoulder off him and stormed off, leaving Kurt standing there rolling his eyes.

Kurt had been invited by some of the other young men in the tribe to a sweat lodge that evening. According to Bear Mother a sweat lodge was when men came together in a hut and steamed themselves to help purify themselves, since their bodies didn't purify themselves naturally every month like a woman's did. During the "sweat" there would be traditional prayers and singing. To Kurt, it sounded like a fantastic way to experience Cheyenne culture and get to know the people around him better.

As Bear Mother tutored Kurt in the language during the day, more and more curious community members had stopped to try out Kurt's ability to use the language. For the most part they were kind, finding his attempt to learn Cheyenne utterly amusing. Some of the young men had begun to help him with his basic dialogue skills as well, and he had begun to feel more comfortable with the people as he was able to understand most of what they said.

He knew the sun dance would be happening soon, as activity in the tribe increased. The hides they had seen being tanned by women were intended to be traded with tribes who were coming to share in the celebration. Young men who had been chosen as dancers could be seen training for hours each day under the watchful eyes of instructors. The drummers practiced their songs with increasingly skill. Food was gathered in larger than normal quantities to help feed newcomers who might not have brought enough of their own.

For Kurt it wasn't unlike watching the activity prior to the Cowpoke Competition back in Lima. Everyone seemed either excited or nervous, while he watched and waited in the background. Blaine spent a portion of his days hunting, either alone or with old acquaintances. Kurt hesitated to call them friends of Blaines because they never seemed to talk when they were together in the village and Blaine hadn't introduced them to Kurt officially.

In fact, Kurt had noticed that aside from Bear Mother and the occasional brief dialogue with others, Blaine didn't really spend too much time with anyone in the tribe. He still kept to himself and spent most of his time with Kurt, who in turn was making an effort to get to know people in the tribe and make his own connections since Blaine wasn't helping him with that part of the integration into the tribe.

Kurt watched Blaine walk off until he couldn't see him anymore and then walked himself to where the sweat lodge had been built. It was dome shaped, made out of bent branches and covered in layers of leaves and then hides. He had watched some of its construction, noting how the men who built it remained completely silent through the building and also fasted while it was built. The traditions of the Cheyenne continued to fascinate and confuse him.

Now the lodge had a group of young men outside of it, including the couple young men who had invited Kurt and now waved him over to them. He joined and listened to two of the elders talk, speaking of respect and gratitude that must be displayed in the sweat ceremony. Before they could enter, Kurt and the men he was with had to smudge their faces, kneeling before a bowl of burning sweet grass and casting the fumes over their faces.

And wow. The sweat lodge was dark inside. Pitch black. Kurt had always thought nighttimes was dark, but there was always fires and stars. Inside the lodge, no light could get in. His eyes didn't even adjust to see shapes around him it was that black. The only way he knew where to sit was the follow the sound of the man who led him in.

A hollowed stick was passed around with something inside it to make it shake. In turn, each man spoke his name and what he was thankful for. When the stick reached Kurt, he swallowed, nervous about what would be his first public Cheyenne speaking.

"<I am Kurt. I am thankful for... this experience, and your acceptance.>"

Kurt shook the stick and passed it along, grateful for the appreciative hum he heard from the men around him after he spoke and relaxing in place.

Once they had all shared, water and herbs were put on the hot stones in the center of the lodge, causing a sharp increase in the heat. Kurt found himself sweltering, but not in the unclean way that sweat usually made him feel - this sweat made him feel clean somehow.

The elders led the group in a song, which Kurt awkwardly tried to sing along with. He didn't know it though, and didn't know all the words, so it was haphazard at best, but one of the men beside him patted him on the back supportively and again, he felt alright.

In fact, the sweat was amazing. It was relaxing and calming, and allowed him to connect with the other men around in a way he never thought he might have. He joined in on more songs, laughed along with stories, and hummed along with drumming. It was going so well, until...

An herb was cast onto the stones by one of the elders, and Kurt smelled something spicy - but also sweet. As his eyes looked out into the black, he started to see coils of purple smoke and found himself frozen. Was he the only one seeing that? Was it normal?

The smoke started forming shapes before his eyes. First simple shapes, an S, a circle, and then....

In the smoke he saw himself, laying in his bed back in his room at the Lima. Karofsky was over him, glaring at him with hate. He saw himself, weak under Karofsky's hands which had him pinned roughly against the mattress. Kurt's breath hitched and he closed his eyes. No, he thought, it's just my imagination. I'm not actually seeing this. He opened his eyes and the vision before him had gotten clearer. He could see all the colours of it now. In the vision he saw the bruises forming on his chest, see himself pleading with Karofsky, and see Karofsky punch his ribs over and over again while he rammed himself into Kurt's bleeding hole. Then a shadow fell over the vision and everything was black again.

Kurt could feel his heart thumping in his chest, threatening to bruise his ribs from the inside with its intensity. The sweat on his brow no longer felt clean, but sticky and dirty. He let out a sharp whimper and hastily spoke out, "<All my relations.>" indicating that he needed to leave the lodge.

He was led outside by helping hands where he quickly ran off until he reached a nearby creek bed, dropping to his knees and splashing water on his face furiously, trying to cool himself and his heartbeat. In the end, he ended up emptying his stomach instead, until it felt like his stomach itself was trying to come up through his throat to expel itself. Kurt laid by the creekbed when everything was out of him, and bit down on his lower lip, forcing his tears back down. He would not lose it. He would keep himself together.

Amazingly, he managed not to end up bursting into tears and bawling, which he counted as a victory for himself. He laid there until the smell of his own vomit became too much to bear and then got himself up, walking up the creek to find some water to wash the smell off him before returning to the village where he beelined for Bear Mother's tipi.

"<How was the sweat white boy?>" White boy was spoken as Vehoke - a pet name that Bear Mother had begun calling Kurt. She was sitting at her fire, stirring herbs into a small pot and probably making some kind of ointment by the look of things.

Kurt sat himself down with a sigh. "<It was very good but then I had a vision.>"

"<Oh? You must tell me of it.>" Bear Mother grinned toothlessly at him, clearly eager to interpret what he saw, though he knew it was a memory and not really a vision.

Kurt pressed his lips together, trying to conjure up the words that would describe to her what he saw with his limited vocabulary. "<It was Karofsky. He hurt me. He... Damaged me.>"

Bear Mother nodded, reaching for some herbs out of one of her satchels and setting them into a bowl. She poured a bit of boiling water that she always kept going on her fire over the leaves and then handed the bowl to Kurt. "<You need to relax. Don't fight what you saw. You have no control over that, only control over how you respond to seeing it.>"

Kurt took the bowl, sipping the medicinal drink slowly to avoid burning his tongue. The drink had a sweet taste to it and after he had finished it, he felt himself becoming more relaxed and at ease. His stomach wasn't twisting anymore and his muscles had relaxed themselves. At this point, Bear Mother beckoned him to continue.

"<Karofsky used me for sex. It wasn't loving. He....>" Kurt tried to think of the word, or something similar to describe the situation in Cheyenne, but couldn't come up with anything so he spoke it in English, "...raped... <me. He left me bloody and broken.>"

Bear Mother nodded, seemingly unphased by this revelation. "<And this is what you see in your dreams?>"

"<Some times. Other times I am about to be killed by others... A rope on my neck.>" Kurt avoided looking in her eyes as he spoke, afraid to see the disgust he assumed must be there for being so weak and used.

"<These memories. I have no way to make them go away....>" Bear Mother spoke and Kurt's face fell. "<You need to accept them as part of who you are now, and once you can accept them, you can control the way they make you feel and how you react to them.>"

"<Is there a plant I can eat for that or...?>" Kurt started but Bear Mother started laughing, her tiny bony frame shaking with the action.

"<Not everything is fixed with an ointment or a tea. This is an affliction of the mind, so you must strengthen your mind to remedy it. >" As she spoke, Bear Mother wagged a finger at Kurt.

Kurt sighed once again. "<I should have listened to Blaine. He told me the sweat would be trouble.>"

Bear Mother made a set of tsking noises, once again shaking her finger at Kurt. "<Avoiding dealing with your pain will only give it more power. You need to learn to fight it.>"

"<But how?>"

With that, Bear mother gave a small shrug, "<It is different for everyone, but the first step is always embracing the memories and accepting them.>"

Kurt nodded quietly, wondering how he was going to be able to do that. He could scarcely think about Karofsky without feeling nauseous.

"<And as for Leaning Bear. He is selfish in not wanting you to go to the sweat.>"

Kurt perked up and looked back towards Bear Mother, "<What do you mean?>"

"<Ask him.>"

Kurt whined, "<I tried. He avoids telling me....>"

"<And that too, is out of his own selfishness. I love him as a son, but he is not without his own demons to overcome. Now go. I have balms to make and you have a boy to talk to.> Bear Mother shook her hands towards Kurt, gesturing for him to leave.

As Kurt left Bear Mother's tipi and walked back to his own, he tried to summon the memories he had been hiding in the depths of his mind. Everytime his mind flashed an image of Karofsky's face, it was as if the feelings of those times were still all fresh in his mind. He remembered an overwhelming desire to survive, and also dissociating his mind from his body when Karofsky was abusing him, as if he was watching what was happening to him from an aerial view. That view made him feel sick and disgusting, but more than anything, it made him mad.

Infuriated actually would have been a more appropriate term for the feelings he was dredging up, except he didn't know where to direct the anger. Karofsky was the likely choice, but it was like focusing the anger on him was too obvious, besides, Kurt got his revenge on Karofsky - the man would have to use a cane for the rest of his life and would need help for everything from cutting his own food to wiping his ass now.

No. The anger was for himself. For allowing it to happen. But what could he have done?

"Naehame...." Blaine broke Kurt out of his train of thought from where he was sitting at a fire he had set up outside the tipi, roasting some hunk of meat over it. As Kurt approached, Blaine had spoken, almost a greeting.

Kurt sighed and went to sit beside Blaine automatically. "What are you cooking?"

"Deer." Blaine answered, though he was busy examining Kurt's face as he spoke and clearly wasn't fully focused on the cooking.

"What is it?" Kurt asked, looking directly at Blaine and feeling a twinge of the anger coming up to the surface again as he did.

"How was the sweat?"

Kurt cocked an eyebrow. "Interesting." was all he said, choosing not to share with Blaine the details of the vision he had and the talk afterwards with Bear Mother. After what she had said, Kurt was beginning to suspect Blaine was hiding things himself.

Blaine nodded, seeming satisfied with the response, though a little hesitant to stop looking over Kurt, as if he expected him to say more. It made sense that he would expect Kurt to say more since Kurt usually gave a lot more detail than that.

"Why didn't you want me to go Blaine? Everyone there treated me well."

Blaine frowned and looked away, but Kurt immediately put a hand on his shoulder, "Don't avoid me. Tell me. I know you're keeping something from me."

"Just... " Blaine lifted his head as he began speaking, looking as if he was ready to say a lot then and there and Kurt let his hand retreat back to his lap, ready to listen, eager to hear what Blaine had been hiding.

But just as quickly as it looked like Blaine was about to share his soul with Kurt, he got up and walked off once again, leaving Kurt with the deer meat over the fire, and anger in the place of hope. Kurt yelled after him, "Fine! Keep running away!"

He could see Blaine stiffen and tense from his words, but the half-blooded boy just kept walking away and Kurt stoked the fire until the meat was burnt up and inedible. He felt like he wanted something destroyed. He was letting the anger consume him, like the fire consumed the meat. Is this was Bear Mother wanted? For him to accept his rage? And then do what with it?

"<Just like a white man to waste food.>"

Kurt looked over to the source of the voice, finding himself looking again at the same man that had interrupted him from the dance with the girl. This time however, Kurt wasn't afraid to question him. "<What is your problem with me?>"

"<You keep bad company.>" Was the terse reply from the venomous looking man.

"<You mean Leaning Bear?>"

"<Yes. VERY bad company.>"

"<And why would you say that?>" Kurt stood up, walking towards the man who held his ground until they were toe to toe and eye to eye.

"<He brought dishonor to himself and this tribe. He is more of a whiteman than you are with his deception and disloyalty.>"

Kurt's eyes narrow, and then he speaks slowly, "<Tell me what he did.>"