A.N.: One of the "new relationships" I've enjoyed most during the second season is the growing friendship between Kurt and Rachel. This is a story from Kurt's perspective as he reflects on how that friendship has evolved and what it means to him. It takes place during what would have been winter vacation for the kids—after the events of "Special Education" and before they would have been back in school in January. Spoilers up through the first half of Season Two. Lyrics: "Hey, Soul Sister" by Train.

Disclaimer: I own nothing; all belongs to RM and Fox and musicians and the Glee gods.

"I knew when we collided

You're the one I have decided

Who's one of my kind.

Hey, soul sister . . . ."

Soul Sisters

School was back in session, and it was almost a relief to get back. After a winter break spent walking on eggshells at home to keep his step-brother from either lashing out in anger or falling into even stonier silence, Kurt was ready to leave the constant atmosphere of gloom and tension. He learned the first day of vacation not to make any references to theater ("you mean like damn Broadway, right!") or even to music ("stop it! I can't hear any of that, I can't listen to . . . it's just too much, OK!"). Kurt was grudgingly given permission to play his with his favorite Christmas gift—a Xbox360 Kinect with the American Idol and Lips karaoke games—but it had to be played at scheduled times when his brother was out of the house, and put away out of sight before Finn came home. Mentioning glee, or anyone in the glee club, was right out; Finn didn't seem to respect the fact that these people were Kurt's friends, too, and that, especially after being away from them, he relished the opportunity the break gave him to catch up on the news and reconnect with his former teammates ("I need time away from them all, dude. I just need a break from it!").

Acceptable topics for conversation in the Holiday-From-Hell Hummel-Hudson household were:

1. Football, or sports of any kind. (Right, because that was such a deep interest of Kurt.) His one (admittedly inadvertent) venture into the sports-related arena got slammed when, flipping through the channels while looking for a Project Runway re-run, he paused on a men's ice-skating tournament and Finn immediately froze. Apparently she, during the brief time between last year's Sectionals and the advent of Jesse, had made a date for them to go see the touring production of Stars on Ice. It was one of the (many) dates Finn had skipped, but still—just the concept of figure-skating came too close to the forbidden. ("And come on, it's not a sport, dude; it's dancing on ice. In sparkly and feathery uniforms. And how the hell can you figure out the score?")

2. Their parents, so long as no mention whatsoever was made of the wedding. (Yeah, all teens just loved talking about their parents; what was there to say, really?)

3. His life at Dalton, so long as it didn't include the Warblers, or the possibility that he might be in-or thinking about being in-any type of relationship, or anything to do with singing.

4. Food (but not vegetables, because that was too much like vegan food: again, forbidden territory).

They eventually worked out an unspoken agreement; when Kurt got a phone call from Mercedes, he went out of Finn's hearing before beginning the conversation. When he went to meet Tina and Mercedes at the mall to scour the post-Christmas sales, he didn't tell Finn where he was going and Finn didn't ask him who he had been with. He listened to his music through earphones; ditto when he watched any movies that had musical soundtracks (so yeah, that meant all movies, even ones that weren't musicals, because who made movies without soundtracks? In retrospect, though, he probably should have foreseen that the karaoke scene in When Harry Met Sally would spark a full-on furniture-kicking Finn-storm-out from the house; that incident almost lead to movie-watching being forbidden during the holidays altogether).

Most of all—and this one didn't even need to be arranged between them; Kurt knew it without even having to think about it—never, by the twitch of a eye, the slightest tone of his voice, or any other possible movement, motion, or indication, did Kurt reveal that he had received a text from her, talked to her on the phone or on Skype, met her at the coffee shop to talk and listen and try to be a shoulder for her to lean on, spent time with or encountered her in any way, shape, or form. Finn knew, and just pretended not to know, about Kurt seeing some of the glee kids. He didn't know anything about Kurt's new friendship with Rachel, and Kurt knew he had to keep it that way.

Maybe that, more than anything, was ticking Kurt off. After years of loathing her, Kurt was ready to admit that, for once, he had been wrong: Rachel was, well, cool. And caring. Not even Mercedes had seen just how much he was hurting during the whole duets competition, and Rachel, of all people, had done more than anyone but his Dad ever had to make him feel better about things when he was so down. He learned that she was the impetus behind the glee club's rally to stand up to Karofsky and protect him, and he was not unaware of the work Rachel must have done to help Finn plan and pull off that song for him at his Dad's wedding. Kurt had come to realize that Rachel Berry had the potential of being a really good—a life-long— friend; and, once he stopped hating her, he was able to admit to himself what he'd always known deep down— they were, just as she'd said, a lot alike.

It had really hit him at Sectionals. Going to her for help in prepping his audition piece had felt totally natural, and, while the audition didn't work out, he still thought Rachel's advice had been right—in any other setting, he'd have been a shoe-in for a solo after perfectly channeling Miss Patti LuPone. Rachel's facial-expression coaching during the Warblers' performance at Sectionals, when Kurt was struggling so hard to keep in lock-step with the group that he actually felt uncertain while performing for the first time in his life, was exactly what he needed to relax and do well during the rest of the number. In that moment, as Blaine and all the Warblers sang the words of the chorus and Kurt caught and held Rachel's bright-eyed gaze, Kurt realized that he and Rachel were more than fellow divas—they were, in truth, soul sisters, sharing in equal measure tremendous star-power, an intense drive to succeed, and a love of all things musical and dramatic. (A sense of fashion, no; that was a painful lack in Rachel, and he just might have to do something real about it in the not-too-distant future.) There on the stage, basking in her 1000-megawatt smile, Kurt experienced a surge of affection for his one-time rival in song and in romance, a surge that was made even stronger when he saw her leap out of her seat to lead the entire auditorium in a standing ovation for her team's competitive rival. On the spot, Kurt made up his mind: he was going to make a true friend out of Rachel Berry.

He made a point of texting her to thank her for her encouragement during Sectionals, and he convinced her to meet him for coffee a week later when he told her the absolute truth—that, while New Directions had done an amazing job, especially with Valerie, they would have won out-right against the Warblers if Rachel had done a solo rather than spending the entire performance in the background. (Rachel had said the same thing about him, and they laughed at the irony that both of their teams got to move forward because they had sidelined their personal talents.) At Kurt's insistence, they set up a regularly weekly coffee date on the one day when she didn't have any special music or dance lessons and he didn't have evening Warbler practices. Kurt quickly learned that, while Rachel could talk his ears off with her self-obsessed rants, she also knew how to listen—to really, really listen—when he needed to talk.

He poured out to her what it was like to have to try to blend into a group rather than to stand out; how difficult it was to be in a place where, while he was able to be honest about who he was, he was also required to try to tone himself down again to the point that he almost felt invisible; to be a part of a uniform group (in uniforms, no less) rather than the stand-out individual (and fashion icon) he knew he was. He confessed that sometimes, in the middle of all that eight- or twelve- or sixteen-part harmony, he felt like his voice was getting lost. Rachel didn't try to tell him what to do, but she got it; she understood; and she told him, over and over, how it was inevitable that the group would recognize his immense talent and realize he was the best person in there. She reminded him of Mr Schue's telling him when he went on his brief detour into the sadly conventional world of Mellencamp that he, Kurt, needed to be himself, because he could do things that literally no one else was capable of doing. As she would say this with that laser-focus-"you are the only thing I'm thinking about in the world in this instant"-Rachel-Berry-patented-stare, Kurt would recall her words to him when she came up to his locker after the duet contest—how she told him that they would win nationals because of him and what he could do; that the whole glee club loved him for being just who he was; that, while he might be lonely, he wasn't alone.

He, in turn, listened to her anguish about Finn. While he refused to give in to her repeated pleas for him to play the role of go-between and mediator and fixer-upper, and while he did not allow himself to take sides between them, he really listened, and he understood why her insecurities about herself (not about her talent, but her feeling that she wasn't attractive or hot or anyone anybody would ever really want as a girlfriend if they had other options) had made her fixate on "the Santana of it all."

And, when he could get her to stop lamenting about the situation with Finn—because more than once, he had to talk her down from yet another crazy scheme to try to win him back—and focus on other topics, Kurt learned that Rachel could really be a lot of fun. They went to her house once vacation started and they had more free time, and watched musical after musical, dissecting, imitating, and perfecting to the last intonation and gesture each song sung by each leading lady, be it Barbara, Patti, Julie, Kristen, Idina, or Bernadette. (Rachel insisted that they cover the songs of the male leads, too, saying it was good practice in developing a varied technique even though their songs were never as challenging or inspiring.) Kurt convinced her to invite Mercedes over one day, and the three of them competed on Rachel's karaoke machine (no music ban in the Berry household!),with each diva striving to outdo the other as song after song was belted out. After that, Mercedes became a regular member of their gatherings, and Kurt figured he was winning on all fronts—spending time with his long-time best friend and his new becoming-a-best friend, and helping both girls find someone they could turn to when life at McKinley started up again.

They slept over at Rachel's on New Year's Eve, playing board game and cards, watching movies, and singing and dancing along to the groups on TV while watching the ball drop in Times Square, vowing that the three of them would be there in person to witness it one day. (Rachel said that they'd gather beneath a billboard featuring her picture in a leading Broadway role and entertain the crowds by singing through all the songs of whatever show she was starring in). They pulled each other in for a group hug and kiss at midnight, and if Rachel's face was momentarily dimmed by sadness as she thought of the lips she wasn't kissing on New Year's Eve, the sorrow was quickly driven away by Kurt challenging her and Mercedes to a musical duel to see who could do the best rendition of "New York, New York", with Rachel's dads serving as the judges. (Mercedes won, but Kurt and Rachel attributed her edging them out to her brief infatuation with the music and style of the Rat Pack while she had dated Puck the previous year.)

Getting to know the Mr. Berrys as part of his friendship with Rachel had been an unexpected, and hugely amazing, side benefit; for the first time in his life, he felt that he had mentors—adults who could fully understand his issues and struggles. Kurt found himself stopping by the Berry household sometimes just to talk to Rachel's dads, and he wondered why it had never occurred to him that Rachel's family situation would mean she could sympathize with and understand him more than most of their peers. He remembered ignoring her when she had suggested forming a "GayLesbAll" club (Gay Lesbian Alliance) last year, and he sometimes wondered whether, had he agreed, they would have been able through the club to create a zero-tolerance bullying policy at McKinley that would have allowed him to feel safe staying there.

The coffee dates increased during the vacation to several times a week; Rachel understood why Kurt insisted on never missing them when not only Mercedes but Blaine started to join them almost every time. Once or twice they added Tina and Artie to their vacation plans, having what they termed an "original Gleek get-together"; they even went out to a movie one night in a big group with all of the five core glee members plus Mike, Brittany, and Blaine. The only time Rachel ever said "no" to any of the proposed social gatherings was when Tina suggested going bowling one day; Rachel stiffened, and her eyes welled up, and she shook her head. Without explanation, she suggested going to the mall where they could play Dance, Dance Revolution at the arcade instead. Kurt tried to multi-task as they walked through the mall, attempting to draw Rachel's attention to alternative clothing styles; he knew that she was not ready to let him talk her into a makeover any time soon (the lingering emotions of the train-wreck caused by his malicious "silly clown hooker" makeover still stuck with her), but he figured laying the groundwork now would bear fruit in the future, and he promised himself that he would find a way to slowly, but surely, shift Rachel's wardrobe in the right direction if it was the last thing he did.

For the most part, they stayed away from talking about glee. Kurt was deliberate about this—partly because they were rivals now, and he thought it might walk a fine line of ethics to discuss show choir with the competitors; partly because he saw the shadows that fell over Rachel's face when glee was mentioned, because she couldn't think about glee without thinking about the 'devastating disaster that had overtaken her personally' in the midst of it (her words for Santana's revelations and the subsequent argument in the Sectionals' greenroom); and mostly because he was really enjoying learning that Rachel was so much more than just glee. Kurt found himself wondering why, during all of their years in school together in Lima, Ohio, he had never found a friend in Rachel Berry—why, in fact, she never seemed to have friends at all; why glee was the closest she'd ever come to having a group to hang out with. As alike as they were, why did he, Kurt, have no trouble navigating the shark-infested social waters of school, while Rachel kept floundering, drowning, and being chewed up?

Kurt thought maybe the main reason was that he'd had years of practice hiding who he truly was. It's not like he'd ever tried to blend in at McKinley; he'd always been his acerbic, abrasive self. But, in trying so long to hide from others that he was gay, he'd had to pay attention to the ways people reacted to him so he could be prepared to deny anything that touched too closely on the truth he attempted to conceal. Maybe, if Rachel had ever tried to hide any part of herself, she would have figured out some of the social cues that would let her learn how to relate to people rather than alienating them. But, more than anyone he knew, Rachel Berry was always and completely and utterly herself, in everyone's face, pulling no punches, holding nothing back. It was what made people hate her—but it was also what was great about her. Almost every time they got together, something Rachel said or did drove him crazy for at least an instant and more often than not resulted in a temporary spat or a sharp, sarcastic rejoinder, but Rachel was Rachel, and Kurt wouldn't really want her to be any other way.

Spending time with Rachel helped Kurt to work though some of his issues about feeling compelled to blend in at Dalton and conform to the Warbler code. Not even his admiration (or should that be over-the-top-crazy-love?) for Blaine could make him automatically agree with the boy's insistence that the Dalton/Warbler tradition of everyone trying to appear the same all the time was a completely good thing. Kurt had been trying it out, but he kept hearing an echo in his head—the echo of own voice as he let Karofsky and Azimio know that he was proud of who he was and that he had every right to express himself and be himself. Being around Rachel's all-out-there attitude, and feeling bolstered by her continual confidence in and admiration of his talent, helped Kurt to realize that maybe he could start to get the Warblers to loosen up a little bit, to become a group that allowed for more individuality and self-expression. Maybe he could work within their system to shake them up so that they became even better while letting all voices be heard (and so that they recognized the value of letting him perform a solo, too, of course).

So yeah—having to spend his entire vacation, when at home, being silent in front of his family about what he was doing and thinking because his step-brother turned into a hulking monster at any mention or hint of this person who had become such an important part of Kurt's life? It sucked, and was increasingly annoying. He had been just beginning to consider the possibility that Rachel might be someone he'd want to get to know better when his Dad and Carole announced they were getting married in the autumn. Now Kurt realized that on some level, during all of the planning and lead-up to the wedding and afterward, he had come to think that one of the many bonuses of the marriage was going to be that he'd be getting Rachel as a sort of step-sister-in-law-in-waiting; that she'd be another part of his expanding family. Now, because of his step-brother's cowardice in facing up to difficult situations, and because of Rachel's impulsive and self-destructive attempt to strike back when hurt, and because of Finn's stubborn refusal to deal with the situation and get over it, that was shot all to hell.

Kurt didn't know what was going to happen between Finn and Rachel in the months ahead; he knew they had both hurt each other deeply, and that they were now making themselves intensely miserable. Maybe they'd work things out and get back to their obnoxiously adorable Finchely-goodness and sweetness and light. Kurt certainly hoped so—not only would it make his life so much easier, but he really believed that it would be best for each of them, because they really did have a way of toning down the worst and bringing out the best in each other. Maybe they'd never get beyond this, or one would move on and leave the other in limbo, or they'd never find themselves in synch again. Not being even a little bit psychic, and being all too aware of how much they were capable of hurting each other because they cared so deeply, Kurt wasn't willing to make any predictions about the future of Rachel and Finn.

But this he did know, and he knew it for certain: if Finn and he were Furt, brothers from another mother, he and Rachel were soul sisters, talent-and-temperament-twins. No matter what happened between his step-brother and New Directions' shining star, Rachel was now a part of his life; having her as a friend, thought Kurt, was now part of what made him him. Angry step-brothers, Slushie-throwing neanderthals, annoyed glee clubbers, and, sometimes, his own frustrations with her notwithstanding, Kurt wasn't going to let anything take that part of himself away. He'd tell Finn tonight that, like it or not, he was friends with Rachel, and Finn would just have to deal. And staid Warbler standards, rules, and regulations notwithstanding, Kurt was no longer going to stifle and hide the Rachel-like part of himself. He was going to stop trying to be content with only losing himself in a group and never getting to shine; somehow, someway, he'd let his voice sing out and be heard. If his friend could do it, so could he.

"You see, I can be myself now finally,

in fact there's nothing I can't be

I want the world to see you be with me.

Hey, soul sister . . . ."