"How do you stand this?" Sebastian groaned, lying back on Kurt's bed.
Kurt was energetically walking around the room. "It's what I'm used to. It really is different, isn't it? I feel like I'm flying."
"Yeah, and I'm about ready to pour motor oil on my knees in hopes that they actually work."
Kurt laughed. "It's not that bad."
"Kurt, I'm an athlete, and a dancer. I'm light on my feet. I feel like I'm wearing a ball and chain."
"I used to be a dancer," he said wistfully. "I loved dancing. Then my knees started acting up. They told me I needed to stop dancing or else I'd make it even worse and not be able to walk, much less dance. I listened, but I hated it. Dancing was my life."
"What'd you do?" Sebastian asked worriedly.
"Sank into a depression. Tried to kill myself when the school year ended. Went to a doctor, got a physical therapist and antidepressants. Transferred schools once summer was over." The smile returned to his face. "Met you guys. Remembered there's more to life than dancing."
"Sounds like the plot of a feel-good movie," Sebastian commented half-heartedly. "That... You're incredibly strong, having gone through all that."
Kurt fake-gasped. "A compliment? From Sebastian?"
He didn't laugh. "I'm serious."
Kurt's smile faded. "Yeah, I know. It's easier to joke about than to confront, but... I didn't feel strong at the time, not even when I got help. It was when I recovered and looked back on it that I realized how far I'd come, how much I'd gone through. Whenever I tell people, they apologize, and I'm like, 'why? Why are you sorry? Can't you see I'm so much happier now, even if I can't dance?'"
He smiled faintly. "Is it rude to say that I'm glad you have arthritis? Because I never would have met you otherwise, none of us would have, and it would be so different and so much duller."
Kurt grinned. "To anyone else? Incredibly rude. To me? I feel the exact same way."
