Glee 1. Chapter 1

Based on a prompt from the glee_angst_meme livejournal community. I won't post the prompt here because it does contain many spoilers for the story. But do heed the warning that this does involve non-con of a graphic nature and will have a lot of potentially triggery moments in the attack scenes, the aftermath and ultimately, the recovery.

This is a looooong work in progress (41 pages written, with my approximation of being about a third of the way through my original story outline). I admit to having had a bout of severe writer's block that kept me from updating recently, but I am starting to work on this one again. I'm also hoping that as I start putting it out there for a new audience (a large part of it is already posted on the angst meme-though I am doing some re-writing to fix some things that bothered me before as I post it here) and getting some feedback (please?) it will help me get the motivation going and gain some momentum again.

Timeline Note: This story was plotted and writing started during the first season so it does go a bit AU from what's happened (though some of it not nearly as far off as I thought it would be!) on the show during 2nd season. Carole and Burt are not married, but she and Finn are living with the Hummels. It's still a fairly new arrangement for them. Kurt is still a Cheerio (it's before their Nationals) but Mercedes has already left the squad. Blaine and Sam were not introduced yet and may or may not be written into the story (undecided; I'm leaning toward yes and making this even a little bit more AU but…still thinking on that…)

And so now, after my long-winded author notes, here's "To the End".

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><p>Mercedes Jones couldn't sleep. For the most part, she was okay with that because she got a big kick out of the adorable way Kurt Hummel gabbled in his sleep whenever she tried to move away from him. And she certainly didn't mind the way he was cuddling up to her, draping his arm around her waist and occasionally nuzzling against her neck. So really, she didn't mind that he was sleeping contentedly while she lay awake.<p>

The problem was that for the past several minutes, she swore she could hear someone (or perhaps _something_) creeping around upstairs. Maybe it was just her nerves, spending the night in a strange place for the first time and all. She just didn't know all the old quirks and haunts of the Hummel house. Sure, she'd been in Kurt's room countless times, but it had always been with Kurt awake and flittering around doing all sorts of _Kurt things_ that kept her amused and oblivious to anything else.

She and Kurt were alone in the house. Or at least they were supposed to be. Mr. Hummel was out of town at some auto parts auction, and Ms. Hudson had gone with Finn to the All-State Basketball Tournament. So the creaks and thumps she was hearing were probably just…the furnace kicking in or water in the pipes or…

_Something._

Mercedes tensed as she heard the door at the top of the stairs creaking open, confirming that something wasn't right in the house. Someone was here that shouldn't be.

Uneasily, she peered back over her shoulder, beyond the still sleeping Kurt, trying to see who was coming. Hoping-_praying—_that it was Mr. Hummel home early, or even Finn or his mom. She saw a beam of light-a flashlight-and a pair of cowboy boots came into view at the top of the stairs.

Whoever the person was stopped, though, before they became fully visible. Mr. Hummel really didn't strike Mercedes as being a cowboy boot sort of man. He was more sneakers or on occasion loafers perhaps. And even if he were the cowboy boot sort, she doubted that Kurt would've let him wear the worn out ones she was seeing. She could practically hear Kurt in her head calling them "monstrosities".

That meant that the person-a man, she judged from the size of the feet, ruling out Ms. Hudson-at the top of the stairs was not Mr. Hummel. And she was certain it wasn't Finn. She'd know his long skinnyass legs anywhere.

For a few moments Mercedes just froze, unsure what she should do. Should she hide? Should she scream bloody murder? Should she…? What?

She should wake Kurt. That's what she should do. But she had to make sure that he stayed quiet. She had no idea why this man in ugly outdated and ratty cowboy boots was in the house, but she didn't consider for even a moment that he was a welcome visitor.

She rolled over carefully, placed one hand over Kurt's mouth, and then gently shook his shoulder. "Kurt," she murmured directly into his ear, so softly it was barely audible. When at first he didn't respond, she shook him a little bit harder, keeping her eyes on the figure still standing at the top of the stairs.

She looked back to Kurt when she felt his lips moving against the palm of her hand. He peered back at her, questioningly. "There's someone in the house," she mouthed the words to him. When his brow furrowed, she put a finger momentarily to her lips to signal him to stay quiet before she moved her hand away from his mouth. Her hand trembled as she motioned for him to look toward the stairs.

When he did exactly that, she felt him tense and knew immediately that indeed, this was not just some innocent occurrence. Kurt reached out and grasped her hand as he eased quickly and silently from the bed. Once he was up, he reached to take her arm and steady her as she carefully followed him. It took her a moment to realize why he was looking longingly at his vanity near the stairs, but then she spotted what he was really looking at. His cell phone was there, charging. Her own was in her backpack, which she'd left upstairs.

Despite the situation she felt slightly calmer as she felt his hand against the small of her back as he guided her across the darkened room and into to his walk-in closet. He parted the clothing on one of the racks and firmly pressed her to move against the wall before he let the clothes drop back into place. It wasn't the most original hiding place, and there was little chance that if anyone actually _looked_ that they wouldn't see her immediately. But it was the only option they had while someone was blocking the only exit. She heard a tiny bit of rustling above her as Kurt reached up to pull something from the shelf. A moment later she felt her feet and ankles being covered with a blanket. She almost laughed with giddy nervousness at the ridiculousness of the action; like that was going to stop anyone from spotting her? She was too frightened, though, to laugh; her entire body was tense and she felt as though her heart was going to explode.

Mercedes expected Kurt to join her but was startled as instead, he moved away, pushing the closet door almost, but not completely, shut. Where was he going? She was tempted to go after him, stop him from doing whatever fool-headed thing he was thinking of doing. But she couldn't make herself move. Besides, Kurt was one of the smartest people she knew. Maybe he had a plan.

If he did, it wasn't a good one.

"Shit!" she heard an unfamiliar man's voice. And then there was rapid pounding down the stairs followed by clear sounds of an intense struggle. She squeezed her eyes shut as she heard the distinct sound of flesh hitting flesh followed by a cry of pain that could only have come from Kurt. "Give it here-!"

"N-uh!" she heard Kurt protesting, and felt tears forming in her eyes as she heard him being struck again. She winced as she listened to what she surmised was Kurt being thrown against his vanity, knocking his numerous bottles of cleansers and crèmes to the floor. A few moments later she heard the man begin cursing again.

"What the hell's going on down here?" a second unfamiliar voice called, and Mercedes could hear heavy footsteps on the stairs.

"Fucking kid is home! He had a cell phone."He sounded relieved a moment later as he added, "I got it; he didn't get a call out."

"I thought your cousin said the house would be empty."

"It was supposed to be once the old man was out. He said Hudson always brings his mommy to the tournaments."

What was rather scary about the man's words was that the house _was_ supposed to be empty. Kurt was supposed to have gone with the Cheerios to an invitational, but apparently that particular competition didn't allow vocal performances. Coach Sylvester had pulled no punches when she'd informed Kurt that he'd better stay home sick because without his vocals, he was less than useless to the squad.

That someone actually _knew_ that the house was supposed to be vacant, though, was a very scary concept.

"You alone?" the second man asked.

Mercedes flinched and had to bite her tongue not to cry out a few moments later when she heard Kurt being hit again.

"Let's try that again. Are you alone?"

"Yes. I am alone," Kurt answered tersely. "Unless you want to count the guy hiding behind that lamp and the lady in my closet?"

_Don't antagonize them, Kurt_, Mercedes silently willed. She cringed as she heard one of the men laughing.

"What the hell? We were told you were a boy, not a girl," the first man mocked.

"Yes, I have a high voice," Kurt snapped haughtily. "That does not make me less of a man."

"Man?" The man only laughed harder. "Oh that's rich. How old are you kid? Twelve?"

"That would be _such_ a clever put down…if you were six."

"You've got a pretty smart mouth on you, boy," the second man cut in.

"Oh, why thank you," Kurt replied with mock graciousness.

_Kurt, stop! _Mercedes wanted to yell at him. She usually admired his strength and the way he stood up to bullies, but right then, the way he was exerting that strength made her absolutely terrified for his safety.

"Now," Kurt continued, oblivious to Mercedes' silent pleading, "as stimulating as this conversation is, I would appreciate it if you would do whatever it is you have come to do and get out of my house." After a few beats-during which Mercedes envisioned that the two men were giving Kurt strange looks for making such a bold request-Kurt let out an annoyed sigh and began to explain as though he was talking to someone with the mental capacity of a three-year-old. "It is unlikely, given my size versus yours and my lack of munitions to your _lovely_ collection of weaponry, that I could stop you from taking what you want to take or ruining what you want to ruin. So, please, just do it and get out."

"You're giving us permission to…take what we want to take?" the second man asked. Mercedes shivered at the lower, more dangerous tone his voice had suddenly adopted.

"No," Kurt replied, sounding far less self-assured than a moment earlier. Mercedes could hear what she presumed to be the rustling of Kurt's clothes as he backed away from the men. That sound was followed by the men following right along after him. "I'm just saying that I won't be able to stop you. So…take what you're going to take, and get this over with." Kurt's voice was even more muted and Mercedes cringed, imagining that they now had him cornered and unable to retreat any further.

The next words spoken were so awful that Mercedes hoped she heard them wrong.

"I think what I want to take…" the second man drawled out slowly, "…is that pretty mouth of yours."


	2. Chapter 2

*Non-Con warning.

"W-what?" Kurt's bravado wavered as he absorbed the man's intention.

The man's partner was equally disturbed. "Dude?"

"What? Look at it," the second man, the one Mercedes now perceived to be the leader of the duo, replied.

"Dude, I'm not a _fag_," she heard the minion protest in a loud whisper. As though by just the hushed sound of his voice no one else would be able to hear him. Never mind the fact that there was no one else around to hear. That they knew of, at least.

"Neither am I," Boss assured, sounding amused. "A mouth is a mouth. That doesn't make you a fag. Besides, Hell, look at him. He's almost pretty enough to be a girl. Just imagine that pretty mouth stretched around you; looking down into those big blue eyes."

"N-no," Kurt protested, his voice thick with disbelief. "I'm not going t-"

His words were literally choked off as Boss grabbed him by the throat and shoved him against the wall, mere inches from the closet. Mercedes almost gave herself away as she listened to Kurt's distressed sounds, but before she could convince herself to move, Boss released him. She bit her lip as she listened to Kurt's wheezing gasp.

"We're not giving you a choice. We need a little insurance here."

"W-what do you mean?" Kurt's voice was much weaker than before and Mercedes felt her eyes welling as she heard an uncharacteristic tremor.

"You've seen us, kid. We need something to assure that you aren't going to go to the cops." When Kurt didn't respond, the man continued. "Now, I'm willing to bet that you won't be so quick to set the police on us if we have a little insurance." Kurt remained silent. "You've got that nice little camera set up over there…"

"N-!" Kurt's objection was once again cut off by pressure applied to his throat. Mercedes closed her eyes, not able to bear the image of her best friend being strangled.

"So we are going to have a little bit of fun-taped for posterity, of course. Then we go on our way, you go on yours and you keep this whole thing to yourself." Mercedes winced at Kurt's choked protest. "'Cause if you don't keep quiet about us, the little video we're going to create will find its way to just about everyone you know. It'll be on every cell phone on the McKinley High calling tree. And you just never know when a copy of it'll turn up in your mailbox or at your daddy's garage."

Whether Boss knew it or not, Mercedes knew that was just about the perfect threat to make. Kurt was so protective of his father; hell, Kurt tried so hard to keep everything bad that happened to him from ever getting back to the man he loved more than anyone or anything else in the world.

"No don't! I w-won't go to the police," Kurt's voice was tiny. "Take my camera. Take whatever else you want. Just…please don't do this. Leave me alone. I w-won't say anything."

"I know you won't," the man soothed, though his tone was far from pleasant. "Because we're going to have insurance."

Mercedes wanted to cover her ears as she listened to the ensuing struggle, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. It would be like abandoning Kurt completely. She didn't know what to do. She wanted to come out of hiding, wanted to help him. But she couldn't do that, either. She knew she probably wouldn't be able to help him and would only be putting herself in danger right alongside him. And he'd gone out of his way to make sure she was out of danger.

Really, though she was ashamed to admit, the truth was, she was just plain frozen. No matter how much she wanted to help, she couldn't move. She was scared. More terrified than she'd ever been her entire life.

So she stayed right where she was, listening in horror to what was happening to her best friend. Being there for him the only way she could. She wouldn't let him be alone. She would be right there with him through it all. And she would be there to help him as soon as those monsters were gone.

Kurt fought. Mercedes could only barely see his outline—his shadow, really—through the slats of the closet door.

It was a losing battle before it even began, but Kurt clearly refused to be a helpless victim. He kicked and scratched and even bit his attackers as they struggled to get him under their control. Unfortunately, it didn't take them long to get the upper hand.

The tears that had been threatening to start ever since Mercedes had first heard Kurt being struck finally broke free, rolling silently down her cheeks as she heard Kurt being taken down.

She closed her eyes and hung her head in shame as she listened to him being dragged across the room and forced to his knees in his video staging area.

She slid down the wall as she heard the rustling of clothes.

She wanted to die at Kurt's barely audible, "Wait. I don't…I've never…" followed by the _tearing _of clothes-oh_! His favorite silk pajamas!_ Minion laughing. Whispered instructions.

And buried her head against her knees as she heard threats, gasps for air and…pleasured moans. She'd never felt so helpless and…ashamed of herself in her whole life. Why wasn't she _doing_ something?

Then she heard…gagging and choking and frantic, terrified noises coming from Kurt.

That completed her undoing. She felt like the worst person in the world. How could she just sit there in the closet doing nothing while her Kurt was being…raped? He was being raped! She felt her hands balling into fists. She had to do something. As scared as she was, she couldn't let Kurt go through this while she was just _sitting there hiding_. She could put a stop to this. She had to. Those bastards would never know what hit them!

She was on her feet and slipping out of the closet before she could even think about stopping herself. Her fury intensified as she saw that both men were hovering, pants down, over her best friend. She didn't have a clear view of Kurt, but her heart nearly shattered as she heard his sounds of distress at what they were doing to him.

She had the advantage; their backs were to her and they were unaware of anything other than what they were doing to Kurt.

Mercedes had no idea which man she struck first, whether it was Minion or Boss. But, she felt great satisfaction as she yanked him away from Kurt and shoved him to the ground before he even registered she was there.

But when she turned to the other, she became momentarily frozen in shock as she saw what was happening.

She'd _known_, of course, what the men were doing to her best friend. But to actually _see_ it happening was something else entirely. She couldn't stop the pained sob from forming as she saw the way the man-she was guessing this one was who she'd deemed 'Boss'-had forced his entire length into Kurt's mouth and throat. He had Kurt's hair tangled unrelentingly tight in his hands. She wanted to die as she saw the way Kurt was writhing, trying desperately to disengage, literally unable to breathe around the man's girth, his face turning redder-almost purple- the longer the vicious assault continued.

The man met Mercedes' horrified stare and grinned maliciously before his head tipped back just a little bit and he let out a loud groan, reaching his climax.

'Get off!" she screamed as she swung her fists wildly. She didn't care where she connected, she just wanted to get the man _off Kurt_!

And it worked. The man stumbled back as her fist connected with his jaw, wiping that evil grin right off his face. She kept swinging, still enraged as she heard Kurt gulping in air, then coughing, sputtering…spitting…_retching._

After just a few more strikes, however, the man caught her wrist, halting her actions before she could get in another strike. She struggled, but he was much larger, and much stronger than she was. She cried out involuntarily as he twisted her arm, forcing her to her knees before him.

"No!" she heard Kurt cry out, his voice strained. And then he was there, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her back away from the man. "Don't touch her." There was nowhere for them to go, though, and in a moment they were backed against the wall. She could feel Kurt's body trembling against her even as he bravely positioned himself between the men and Mercedes. "Y-ou've got your insurance," he rasped, his hand absently reaching up to wipe tears away from his eyes. "Take it and get out."

Boss only chuckled cruelly. "Nah. I think I've got a much better idea. You did so good…for a beginner. I think you deserve a little treat."


	3. Chapter 3

*Non-Con Warning. Rated M for a reason...

A/N: To the one who PMed me the question: you've got PMs back blocked, but I'll say that if you're uncomfortable with the first couple chapters, you'll remain very uncomfortable with the next several as well. The whole story will contain triggery moments, but the most intense scenes are the attack, which take up the focus of the first 6 chapters of the story. They do get more graphic, and more detailed than I normally would have included in a fic (I usually perfer to leave such things up to imagination...), but I felt it necessary to the plot and for things that happen later in the story. If you want to skip the attack scenes, I completely understand; Part Two (Aftermath) starts with Chapter 7. Even if you skip the Home Invasion chapters, though, there will likely still be triggery scenes in the remainder of the fic, too, so...this story may not be for you.

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><p>Mercedes could barely breathe as Kurt pressed back against her even more than he already had been. She reached down and grasped his hand, squeezing as she felt him interlace his fingers with hers.<p>

"No," Kurt insisted, his chin rising defiantly despite the obvious tremble in his voice. "You've got what you need to insure my silence. Now get out."

"Your silence, perhaps," Boss replied silkily. "But what about hers?"

Mercedes wondered if Kurt realized just how hard he squeezed her hand at those words. "Don't you touch her."

"As if I would. I mean…look at her," the man snorted in disgust. "I wouldn't touch that thing with a 10-foot pole."

Kurt let out a small gasp. Mercedes felt her face flush with humiliation. Not that she wanted the man anywhere near her, but even under the circumstances it hurt to be deemed _that_ atrocious. As if she weren't self-conscious about her looks enough without having someone so bluntly and cruelly point it out. She wasn't stupid; she knew how most people only saw her as 'that fat black girl'. Even when people did compliment her looks, it was almost always 'you have such a pretty face'. She knew it was an incredibly stupid thing to worry about at the moment, but she couldn't help but feel even more degraded.

"Don't listen," Kurt turned his head to murmur to her comfortingly, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. "You're beautiful." His gaze met hers for a moment, and she felt warmed by the raw emotion she saw reflected in his eyes.

The moment was destroyed, however as Boss closed in, grabbing Kurt's arm roughly, pulling him away from Mercedes and quickly restraining his arms. He nodded to Minion, who grabbed Mercedes and yanked her away from the wall.

Mercedes cringed away from the man in disgust, conscious of the fact that his pants were still down around his ankles. She flinched uncomfortably as he restrained her arms the same way Boss had Kurt's. She felt sick as she felt him pressing against her. She began struggling to pull away, but it was no use.

Her attention was drawn back to Kurt when her best friend let out a horrified, "No!" She could see Boss's lips moving, but couldn't hear what was being said. Whatever it was, it was causing Kurt to look even more distressed. "I won't…please don't do this…" Her eyes widened with shock as Boss suddenly let go of one of Kurt's arms long enough to yank Kurt's pajama bottoms down before quickly restraining him again. Kurt's struggles intensified even as his face blushed bright red with embarrassment. "Don't!"

"Bring her over here," Boss instructed.

"God...don't," Kurt pled. "D-do what you want to me, just don't hurt her."

Mercedes loved that Kurt wanted to protect her, but the last thing she wanted was for it to be at his own expense. Her eyes met hers and she forced a tiny smile. "It's okay," she assured him, her voice barely louder than a whisper. The anguished look on his face broke her heart.

Boss ignored her and went back to taunting Kurt. "Nah. Neither of us want to do this to you. We're not _fags,_" he hissed. "But don't you worry. We're not going to hurt her." After a few beats he added the punch line. "_You _are."

Mercedes was pushed to her knees in front of Kurt.

"Stop…please don't do this," Kurt begged, trying to turn his body away from her. Boss' response was only to wrench the smaller boy's arms viciously until he cried out in pain.

"It's okay, baby," Mercedes quickly assured Kurt. "Don't hurt him! I'll…I'll do it. It's okay." Her hands shook as she reached out to touch him. Just shy of actually doing so, she hesitated. She'd never done anything like this before. She'd thought about it, of course. With an embarrassing frequency that she'd never admit to anyone, in fact. She'd even thought about doing this with Kurt…even after she'd resigned herself to the fact that although he loved her, he'd never love her in that way.

At her hesitation, Boss twisted Kurt's arms again, eliciting another pained cry. Mercedes immediately closed in the final inch, gently running her fingers along Kurt's shaft. She was surprised at how soft the skin felt against her fingertips. She flinched away, startled, as she felt him twitch in her hand.

"I'm sorry…" Kurt apologized, his voice even smaller than before. "God, 'Cedes, I'm so sorry…"

"Shh, no," she assured as she forced herself to lean closer again. She tentatively wrapped her hand around him and marveled as she felt him…growing. He let out a small whimper, though this one didn't sound completely pained. It gave her the courage to keep going. She ran her palm up his full length, then back down.

"Get on with it," Minion demanded, grabbing her by the hair and shoving her head forward until she felt Kurt's shaft against her cheek. Knowing what was expected of her, she tentatively flicked out her tongue and ran it along the length of his cock. Kurt sucked in his breath as she cautiously moved her lips to his tip and slowly drew it into her mouth.

Feeling awkward and off balance, Mercedes shifted to place her hands on Kurt's thighs before she leaned forward, taking more of him in. She felt completely ashamed by the small thrill she experienced as she felt him thickening and hardening as she swirled her tongue around him. This was so wrong, and she hated that neither of them was doing this by choice, but in a warped sort of way, it still excited her a little bit when she heard him making another little whimper.

The tiny amount of excitement she felt was utterly overshadowed by her fear, though, as Minion forced her head forward and she started to gag a little bit. She tried to back off, feeling Kurt growing bigger yet, making it difficult to breathe around him. Minion's grip at the back of her neck prevented her from moving. She felt her eyes welling with tears again as she struggled not to gag.

"I'm sorry," Kurt sobbed and she could feel him trying to back off of her, but Boss held him firmly in place. Because she couldn't speak, Mercedes rubbed his hip with her hand, hoping that he'd get the message. It was okay. Well…maybe not _okay_ exactly, but she wasn't upset with him; he wasn't doing anything wrong.

For a short while longer, Minion guided Mercedes through the motions until suddenly Boss pulled Kurt back away from her. She sagged in relief, but all too soon discovered that their ordeal wasn't over yet. She looked up through tear-blurred eyes to see that Boss was once again whispering directions into Kurt's ear.

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><p>Reviews and constructive criticism are highly appreciated!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt shook his head defiantly at Boss' demands.

"Okay, fine," Boss unexpectedly agreed to Kurt's protest. "I'll give you the choice this time. You can do it and then we leave…or, my buddy over there-" he nodded toward Minion, "-never got to…finish earlier. Can't say he won't _hurt_ her, of course." To emphasize the point, Minion tapped the sheathed knife he had fastened to his belt.

Kurt's jaw dropped open slightly and Mercedes saw a flash of rage fill his eyes as he glared at Boss with an intense hatred. A grotesque smirk spread across Minion's face, and he began fiddling again with his knife, pulling it partially from the sheath-enough to see the blade glimmer in the moonlit room-only to push it back in. Out. In.

After only a few beats, Kurt's shoulders slumped in resignation and he nodded, looking guiltily at Mercedes.

Boss' malicious grin widened. "Thought you might see it that way."

He violently shoved Kurt toward Mercedes, laughing as Kurt tripped on the pants still tangled around his ankles. Boss stepped on the material, forcing Kurt to shimmy out of the silk pajama bottoms as he crawled the rest of the way back to Mercedes.

Kurt knelt beside her, reaching over to gently wipe the tears from her face. She smiled weakly at the gesture, though she had the horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach about what was about to happen. She meant the smile to be reassuring, but instead she saw Kurt's resolve to stay strong crumbling. His whole body wracked with the sob he was trying so hard to contain.

"Shh," she soothed him, wrapping her arms around him and drawing him against her, glaring over his shoulder to where Boss was watching, that grotesque grin still spread across his face. "This ain't your fault, baby," she tried to pacify Kurt. She pressed her lips to his temple as she ran her hand through his hair. She rested her head on his shoulder as he returned her embrace. "It's okay," she assured him softly.

Despite her words, she could feel her body quaking with fear at what she figured was supposed to happen next.

She wanted to cry. Wanted to scream with frustration and horror at the idea that this was how she was going to lose her virginity. She'd always imagined that when this event happened, it would be beautiful. Her boyfriend would have spent the night romancing her, making everything special for her. Her first time shouldn't be on a basement floor with two bastard thugs watching, or with a video camera trained on her. She knew that a girl's first time rarely happened without some level of fear, but she certainly never expected to be terrified out of her mind. Or that she'd have to comfort her partner and assure him that everything was okay even though it wasn't.

She loved Kurt. And she was certain that he loved her. That was the only consolation she had in the situation.

Kurt forced himself to smile back at her, though his eyes were still glistening with tears.

He kissed her cheek, then whispered, "I love you, 'Cedes," in her ear as he hugged her tighter. She tensed, gasping in surprise as she felt his lips suddenly press lightly against her neck. Then relaxed as he gently caressed her cheek. And then his lips were on hers, kissing her tenderly. For just a moment Mercedes was able to pretend that this really was okay and let herself melt into Kurt's embrace.

"You better hurry it up," Boss demanded, moving closer. "We might start getting bored."

Kurt tensed and took a moment to glare up at their assailant.

"I think he needs a little help figuring out what to do," Minion observed mockingly.

Mercedes held back a wince as she saw Kurt's eyes narrow. She knew the look. He was about to go and say something antagonizing. "Look at me," she quickly urged, trying to stop him from making a huge mistake. "Ignore them." She took a calming breath. "Let's do this." And get it over with.


	5. Chapter 5

* Noncon. Graphic (more so than previous chapters). Not kidding. It's more detailed than I normally would've gone with such a scene, but...it's important to the plot.

Note: To the person who asked, yes, I am actively working on the story again, so there will be updates to the version at the meme; I'm just waiting until I'm caught up with the edited chapters here before I start posting there again. (And if you have questions but don't want to spoil in comments, feel free to PM me if you have a account. Otherwise if you ask in the reviews/comments, maybe just type "spoiler" before you do so to warn anyone who might not want to know...?)

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><p>Mercedes was relieved as Kurt followed her instructions and turned his attention back to her, nodding contritely. Provoking their tormenters would likely only make things worse. They just had to do this and then the men would be gone. Once they had their so-called "insurance", she thought bitterly as she noted the red light on Kurt's camera. This no longer had anything to do with so-called insurance, she figured. This had become some sort of…sick game to the men. One in which they currently held all the cards.<p>

Kurt reached down to take hold of both of her hands, intertwining their fingers as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers as he gazed into her eyes. She could see her own pain mirrored in his expression; he _knew_ she didn't want this, and it was tormenting him. "I don't want to hurt you," he murmured so quietly she wasn't positive it even qualified as a murmur.

The only thing she could think of to reassure him this time was to make the first move. She rose up on her knees, pulling him with her. She leaned down and kissed the expanse of his chest left exposed when pajama shirt had been torn open. She swore she could feel his heart beating rapidly against her lips.

It was weird.

Not unpleasant at all, but weird.

She guided his hands to her hips as she inched forward, pressing her body flush against his. She forced herself not to flinch as she felt his still semi-erect cock pressing against her thigh. Instead she closed her eyes, tilted her head, pressed her lips against his again, and ground herself against him. It took him a few moments to catch up and follow her lead, but then he started kissing her back. One of his hands slowly slid to the small of her back, where he continued to rub a gentle circle.

"I'll give you kids a little hint," Minion sneered a minute later, when neither Kurt nor Mercedes made any move to progress farther in their task. "The granny panties have to come off before you're going to get anywhere."

Mercedes hadn't thought she'd actually be able to feel more humiliated than she already felt, but at the men's laughter she could feel what little remained of her self-confidence wavering. Kurt seemed to sense it and his hand briefly left her hip so he could reach up to caress her cheek. When she dared to open her eyes, she found Kurt gazing back at her, his expression so full of affection and concern for her that she felt her resolve bolstering again.

That didn't make it any less frightening when a moment later she heard the sound of Minion's knife being drawn from its sheath once again. She nearly screamed as she saw the long blade from the corner of her eye. Kurt wrapped his arms protectively around her, shifting them both until he was blocking her as much as possible from Minion's view. That didn't stop him from issuing the next direction. "Fugly-ass nightie, too. You remove it or I will."

Kurt ran his hands were shaking as he reluctantly moved his hands to the bottom of her gown.

"Think you better get a move on," Boss drawled, when Kurt hesitated again. She cringed as she saw that he'd picked up the camera and was aiming it at them, the red light still tauntingly glowing.

She couldn't think about that.

Mercedes forced herself to give Kurt an almost imperceptible nod, granting him permission to do what had to be done. She squeezed her eyes shut as she raised her arms, making it easier for him to undress her. She shivered as she felt his hands grazing her bared skin as he carefully drew the gown up, and over her head. Before she even had a chance to feel self conscious about her almost total nudity, Kurt was pressing his chest against hers, shielding her body from view as much as possible. The feel of his bared skin against hers felt completely foreign, which didn't make any sense at all considering how frequently they touched.

For a few moments he simply held her, letting her adjust to the new reality. This was really going to happen. Her breath hitched as her fear started getting the better of her again.

She felt his soft fingertips tracing ever-so-lightly down her back, and subconsciously pressed herself even closer to him. Her heart began to beat faster as he applied just a little bit more pressure as his hand moved back up her spine, only to stroke back down again. She shivered again as he buried his face against her neck, his lips applying just a tiny bit of suction. She gasped slightly at the odd tingling sensation it sent throughout her entire body. Where the hell had he learned to do that? She wasn't sure whether she should laugh or cry when she flashed back to the afternoons they'd spent reading Cosmo articles together and laughing about it.

"Christ, kid. You don't have to convince her or nothing here. Just fuck her already," Minion once again brought her crashing back to reality.

"I'm not hurting her just because you don't understand how to treat a lady," Kurt retorted, his voice quiet but firm as he paused from his ministrations long enough to glare at Minion. Mercedes could feel his chest heaving as his breath began coming out in tiny puffs of fury. Mercedes honestly wasn't sure that she could love him any more than she did at that moment. He was trying so hard to take care of her even under some of the worst conditions she could imagine.

Boss chuckled as he held up his hands as though in surrender, though his cruel grin remained intact. "By all means, then; show us how to treat a _lady_," he mockingly instructed, motioning back to Mercedes.

Kurt's hands were shaking again as he started rubbing Mercedes' back again. She could tell he was struggling again, his breathing growing more erratic as he teetered on the edge of panicking, even as he continued going through the motions. She could see him starting to blink rapidly and knew he was fighting back tears.

"Stay with me," she whispered, trying to get him to focus on her again. "It's okay," she repeated the same empty words, even though she knew he'd know they were lies.

"_We're_ okay," she amended, this time actually believing the words. "We're gonna get through this," she added, with even more conviction. "Now breathe with me."

It took a minute for Kurt to get calmed back down enough to proceed. By that time Minion was getting impatient again. He started to step closer, but this time Boss motioned for him to stop. Mercedes doubted that he had any sort of good intention behind the gesture, but was relieved nonetheless. She closed her eyes and tried to relax into the sensations Kurt was creating for her knowing that the sooner she could relax, the sooner they'd be able to get through the ordeal. She slowly eased herself down until she was on her back, pulling Kurt down with her. Feeling his weight on top of her as he settled between her legs was surprisingly comforting.

Her breath became ragged as she felt Kurt's hands on areas of her body that she only rarely let herself imagine he'd ever touch her. She almost couldn't breathe at all when she felt his palm gently cupping one breast and then his mouth-oh, God, his mouth!-was on the other, his tongue swirling around her nipple, sending a ripple of pleasure straight to her loins. Someone had _definitely_ been paying attention to Cosmo. The thought nearly caused her to let out a nervous giggle, but the afterthought that she was being _watched-_and worse _filmed_-sobered her immediately.

She tensed a little bit when she felt Kurt's hands at the waistband of her panties. She didn't open her eyes, but nodded her head, granting her permission. She started trembling again as she felt him slowly dragging them down her legs. And then he his hand was back. Then his fingers were rubbing her _there._ She could feel her body slowly start responding to him. It was awkward and embarrassing but…oh dear sweet lord…not altogether unpleasant. She felt her cheeks burning a little bit as she realized how hard it was for her to keep her hips from bucking upward and how…moist Kurt's fingers were becoming.

She was quite startled when suddenly he stopped.

"Could you…i-in my night stand…" Kurt awkwardly asked Boss. Mercedes didn't really want to open her eyes and ruin the illusion that she'd almost managed to create that they were alone.

A moment later the illusion was disrupted anyway when she heard a drawer being opened, followed by Boss chuckling again. "Condoms? Oh, Hummel, you've got to be kidding. Just who were you planning to use these on?"

"Just give me one," Kurt replied crossly.

"Nah, don't think so. This is probably the only time you'll ever get to do this with a…_lady_," Boss teased. "You gotta do it the right way."

"Please, just let me have one," Kurt tensely asked, through grit teeth, clearly infuriated, but trying not to anger the man who was currently in control.

Mercedes stiffened as she listened to them argue about using protection. She hadn't even thought that far ahead. She subconsciously began trying to draw her legs closed.

"Tell you what…I'm going to do your daddy a big favor tonight."

"N-no," Kurt protested.

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that. I'm doing this for _you_. I'm giving you a chance at continuing on the family name."

Mercedes began pushing at Kurt a little bit, trying to get out from under him. She couldn't do this. God, she couldn't _do_ this.

"Please," Kurt tried again, but Boss would hear nothing of it.

"If you prefer, we can try to carry on _his _family name," Boss suggested, motioning toward Minion.

Mercedes froze for a moment. She felt her heart pounding as she let that possibility seep into her consciousness. No. Oh, God. She couldn't help the terrified cry that escaped her lips. She began to try to push Kurt off her. She just needed to get away. She couldn't do this!

"'Cede," Kurt tried to calm her again, though his voice was thick with emotion. "Stop. Cede…please." He got more desperate to soothe her as Minion stepped closer.

She could feel tears dribbling down her cheek as she urgently tried to push the body off of her. Kurt, she tried to correct herself. It wasn't just a body, it was Kurt. Even that didn't help her panic.

"_Please_, Cede…shhh…I'm not going to hhh…" Kurt stopped whatever he was going to say. She filled in the blank with the words 'hurt you' and realized why he hadn't finished that pledge. He absolutely was going to hurt her. He wouldn't mean to, and it wasn't his fault, but that didn't change the fact that it was going to happen.

Oh God, this was really going to happen. There wasn't going to be any last minute reprieve. Neither the police, nor Mr. Hummel was going to come bursting through the door to save them.

She wasn't going to get to have the beautiful fairy tale 'first time' that every girl secretly dreamed of. It shouldn't matter. Most teenage girls end up losing theirs in less than romantic ways.

But most of them didn't lose it like _this._

She cried out as she saw one of Minion's boots joining Kurt's pajama bottoms and her nightgown. No! She had to get out of here! She shoved at Kurt's chest harder yet, but he didn't move off of her.

"I'd say you got about fifteen seconds to get in her before my buddy here takes over," Boss jeered.

"No," Mercedes begged, pushing wildly at Kurt's chest.

"I'm sorry!" Kurt's voice cracked. "I-I...I love you." He reached down and stroked himself frantically as he watched Minion's second boot dropping to the floor next to the first. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he babbled as he positioned himself. "I love you…Cedes…"

Mercedes tensed as she felt just the tip of his cock pushing into her.

"Please, Cede…" Kurt begged her. "Just try to relax. I'm sorry…I'm…please don't make me do this…I love you."

Mercedes squeezed her eyes shut as she felt him pushing in just a little bit further and flushed with mortification as she felt him stop when he hit her hymen. She wanted to scream.

"I can't do this…don't make me…" she heard Kurt pleading, though it suddenly seemed as though he were miles away. She wasn't sure if he was pleading with Boss or if he was pleading with _her._

"You've got a choice," she heard Boss mocking.

She opened her eyes just enough to see Minion shucking his jeans. Oh. God. No…

She felt several drops of water...no, not water, _tears_-Kurt's tears-hitting her neck and chest. Her eyes widened as she forced herself to look up at him.

"Kurt…" she rasped, her hands reaching up to grip his arms. "Please," she choked out, feeling horrible that she hadn't stayed strong enough, that she'd made this so much harder for him. She could see the agony in his face and forced herself to say the hardest thing she'd ever had to say. "Do it." She couldn't help how hard she squeezed his arms as she braced herself for what he was going to do.

She hated herself, but she couldn't look at him as he slid out of her only to push back in. It hurt-well, not really hurt physically, but…_hurt_-as he reached her hymen. She couldn't contain the soft yelp that ripped from her throat. Worse, she quickly realized that he hadn't actually pushed through, yet. He was trying so hard to be gentle and save her pain, but that was never going to work. She heard him let out a sob as he tried again. Wanted to die as she listened to the other men laughing when he still didn't .

"God, Cedes, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

The third time was the charm and suddenly he was completely sheathed. He held himself still within her, letting her adjust to him while he pulled himself together. She couldn't make herself speak, but she lessened her hold on his arms. The worst was over now. She wasn't sure how to feel anymore. The pain was receding, leaving her just feeling…weird. It wasn't as uncomfortable as she thought it might be. It didn't really feel _good_ either, but then so far he still hadn't moved at all.

Mercedes forced herself to look at him. Her guilt intensified as she saw how utterly devastated he looked. She had to get him through this. The worst was over for her now. All they had to do was finish and the men would leave.

"We're okay," she whispered her assurance. Kurt's entire body shuddered as though a great weight had been lifted. "I love you, too." Though his eyes were still wet with tears, he managed a tiny wintery smile.

Very slowly he began to move within her.

It was very awkward at first. Mercedes wasn't sure what she should do, so at first she just lay still. She wondered, was this really what the 'big deal' was all about?

And then Kurt started touching her again. The way that made her whole body hum. Especially when she felt his lips doing that thing against her throat again. She began to move with him…and then against him. It still felt weird, but it was a good weird.

"Pull out before you're done and it doesn't count," Boss taunted. "And just remember, your pinch hitter is waiting."

Mercedes closed her eyes, trying once again to lose herself in the sensations. For just a little while she could block out the horror of what was really happening. And, God, it was rather…unexpected (ironic?) that Kurt seemed to know just the right ways to touch her to make her feel so…amazing. Despite the horror of the situation, he made her feel beautiful and loved. She only hoped he felt the same. She had no idea what she was supposed to do to make sure he did other than to say the words, but she couldn't seem to even form words at the moment. So she ran her fingers up and down his back the same way he'd done to her earlier.

When at last his pace changed, Mercedes was sure she knew what was about to happen. She tensed, though she also felt great relief. This nightmare was almost over. She arched her body as she felt him still within her. She knew she should be horrified as she felt him cum deep inside her. If it had been anyone else, she would've been. But this was Kurt. She wrapped her arms around him as his arms as he lowered his body to rest against hers.

For a few moments they lay still, cuddled together.

But then reality struck again.

Kurt let out a terrified yelp as Boss grabbed him and hauled him backward.

Mercedes scrambled to try and cover herself. Minion kicked her nightgown away so she scooted back against the wall, drawing her knees up to her chest. Her heart began to pound as Minion reached down and grabbed her ankles, dragging her back to the middle of the floor.

"Thanks for the lesson, kid," Minion sarcastically thanked Kurt, who was frantically trying to struggle free from Boss's grasp. "Now I'm going to show you how you treat a whore."

No! They were supposed to leave! Mercedes struggled to get away, but Minion was on her before she had a chance. She swung her fists, striking wherever she could. She cried out when he struck her across the face. The second blow shut her left eye, and she was pretty certain that she wouldn't be opening it again any time soon. She stopped feeling much of anything after the fourth, or possibly fifth blow. She heard the knife being drawn from its sheath again, then a moment later felt the cold blade against her throat. She wasn't sure why he bothered. She didn't think she could move even if she'd wanted to.

She was only dimly aware of the sounds of Kurt's struggle against Boss until suddenly he was on the floor, his head only a few inches away from hers.

"You'll want one of these," she heard Boss telling Minion, and she saw him accepting one of the foil packets from Boss' hands. "We don't want to catch anything."

Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that meant something.

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><p>Thanks for taking the time to read. Comments, constructive crit, questions, etc, are all appreciated! Flames are used for toasting marshmallows, which really sounds nice, except then it makes my fingers all sticky and it's hard to type :(<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Sorry for such a long delay on this chapter. Especially since it was (mostly) written already. I was never happy with it, so I decided I was going to try to re-work it before posting. And then a series of events prevented me from actually having TIME to do the updating I wanted to do to fix the things I didn't like. But I've left this sitting long enough and am just going to post as-is even though I didn't get all the changes I wanted to do. It is choppy and disjointed (and grammatically a disaster) but that was by design so…erm…yeah. The warnings from previous chapters definitely still apply. Especially the Non-con.

Timeline: Because it's been so long since I wrote this (started I believe around the time of Theatricality), I should mention that the timeline is a bit screwy. I started writing before Blaine or Sam were in the picture. But my ideas for later in the fic (things I hadn't written yet) include both of those characters, so the time frame is going to change. I may have to go back and make some small tweaks to previous chapters, but really, while the attack is going on, I imagine that Mercedes wouldn't really be thinking a whole lot about Kurt's boyfriend, and I'll just have to go with this being pre-Samcedes-and no Shane-so she wouldn't be thinking about either of them, either…

So, timeline is likely sometime S2 (though Karofsky's bullying complicates matters a bit), or more likely a somewhat AU S3 (Once I figure it out, if it matters, I'll clarify…) Now I'll stop babbling and get on with Chapter 6…

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><p>Mercedes lost track of what was happening to her body. She could no longer feel anything, but she remembered pain. Excruciating and unrelenting.<p>

She'd screamed at first. Each time she screamed, her rapist hit her. And _laughed_. But she couldn't stop. Not when she could feel him tearing into her.

"Shhh…" Kurt murmured, his face inches away from her ear. She felt his hand clutching hers. Felt his thumb run over the back of her hand, as though trying to soothe her. How could someone be soothed when they were being torn apart? Still Kurt continued to try. "Cedes, look at me," he urged. His raw and desperate tone contradicted his intent to calm her. "Shhh." Even though her sight was hazy she could see the tears dampening his cheeks. The silvery drops glistened in the dim moonlight that leaked in through the tiny windows. "Fuh-focus on me," he pleaded.

She tried, but it wasn't working. She knew she had to stop screaming, but she felt like she was being torn apart. The more it hurt, the more she screamed. The more she screamed, the more she was hurt.

And then she heard Kurt.

Singing softly.

She didn't recognize the song more than to enough to know that it was a lullaby, telling her that everything was going to be all right.

At first she wanted to scream at him. How could he _sing_ at a time like this? How could he say that it'd be all right? She was being torn apart and he was _singing_…but then she realized that she was no longer screaming.

So she continued to focus on Kurt's voice. Tried to look at him, but her vision was getting hazier. Had to look away as Boss's form loomed over Kurt's and all she could see was his agonizing sneer. She closed her eye as she saw Boss grabbing a fistful of Kurt's hair and jerking his head back.

After a short time she realized that either Kurt had stopped singing or she'd stopped being able to hear him. He must have stopped singing because she could still hear her rapist's ragged breath. Or maybe she only felt it. But past that she could hear pained whimpers she thought seemed to be coming from too far away to be her own cries, even though they did echo her pain. And there were hushed whispers that she couldn't decipher aside from an occasional word or phrase-most of which she wished she couldn't. Some were directed at her. _Slut. Whore._ Some she knew couldn't be. _Pretty little thing._ There was an obscene grunting and an odd mewling coming from somewhere off to her side. Sometimes she could hear the violent slapping of skin against skin. The growled words, "_So tight," _were the thing that made her shut down.

She didn't want to hear any more, so she tuned it all out and reduced her whole world to just the feel of Kurt's hand still tightly clutching hers. Sometimes it felt as though his hand was being ripped away from her, but then he'd only squeeze tighter. So tight that it almost hurt. Except to her it felt like a lifeline. Whether it was a lifeline for herself or for Kurt she wasn't sure. Maybe it was for both.

But then suddenly she couldn't feel it anymore. The lifeline was gone. So she let everything else just drift away. If she couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't _feel_, just maybe she'd survive.

Time began passing in slow bursts of consciousness when she couldn't completely block her senses:

Steel cutting into her flesh.

Kurt's shadow bobbing in and out of her obscured vision.

Sounds she didn't even want to try to identify.

Minion was there.

And then he wasn't.

But he wasn't _gone _gone; she could hear him and Boss laughing.

She knew they were doing _something _to Kurt because he wasn't there beside her anymore. Not even his shadow remained.

She wasn't sure, but it sounded like maybe they were all in Kurt's closet. Sick laughter mingled with pained cries and some odd sounds she couldn't identify. Didn't _want _to identify.

She wanted to move. She wanted to help Kurt like he'd helped her. Make his cries stop. Maybe they would stop hurting him if he stopped screaming. She wanted to move.

But she didn't. Possibly couldn't. She wasn't sure.

After a time she realized the monsters were back in the room but paying her no mind. They were too busy ripping it apart. Much like they'd done to her.

Kurt wasn't there. Why wasn't Kurt there?

She felt a cool wetness and smelled a strong scent of…she wasn't sure, but it reminded her of Kurt. Musky with a hint of sweet. One of his colognes, she realized, noticing the broken glass fragments on the floor by her head and vaguely remembered hearing it shatter moments before.

She felt the sting of another liquid (this one warm and quite foul; she was certain she didn't want to know what it was) as it drizzled down on her, stinging as it splashed into one of the cuts on her still exposed chest. She closed her eyes against the tiny red light that shone through the fog. If she couldn't see it, the camcorder couldn't be filming her, she tried to tell herself. She wasn't fooled, of course, but it was a good thought. She knew she should at least try to cover herself but couldn't find the strength to even lift her arms. It wasn't happening anyway. It wasn't, it wasn't, it wasn't. It was just a nightmare. And soon she would wake up. It wasn't happening.

There were footsteps on the stairs; blessedly going up, not down.

The fiends were leaving.

Except they weren't.

She could still hear them.

Laughter floated down from upstairs.

New sounds broke through her consciousness.

Glass breaking.

Material ripping.

Wood splintering.

Amidst it all, raucous laughter.

It went on and on. She knew she was drifting in and out of awareness so she had no clear concept of time, but it seemed like hours.

And then at last she thought maybe they were really gone because all she could hear was soft singing interspersed with faint sobs. It was coming from the closet.

_Kurt._

It took a while before she could make herself move.

An eternity passed before she managed to crawl to the closet and carefully open the door.

She found him.

His wrists tied to his clothes racks-by a couple of his own precious designer scarves-were the only things keeping him upright. One of his arms was twisted in an unnatural position.

She was almost grateful for the fact that the vision in her "good eye" was blurry and she couldn't get a very good look at him. What she could see was bad enough. His back was smeary with blood and…

She didn't look lower. Couldn't look lower.

She was scared to touch him. Not just because she's afraid of hurting him further. She was afraid for herself.

And she thought, _but that's dumb_.

Still she didn't touch him.

She had trouble rising to her feet, but knew she needed to get him loose.

Then they could clean up.

Get dressed.

Forget.

Kurt let out an agonized cry as Mercedes released his good arm first.

Realizing her dim error, she forgot about her fear and wrapped her arms around him, taking the pressure off his wounded arm. The skin of his back felt wrong. Bumpy where it shouldn't be. Hot. Sticky. Damp.

She could feel him trembling against her. "I've got you, baby," she murmured, holding him tighter.

Once her arms were around him, she didn't want to let go. She felt his arm wind around her and they curled together. His head rested warily against her shoulder. He continued softly singing that lullaby. She wondered if he even knew he was doing it. Either way, it had a soothing effect. On her, for sure, but she figured it must be helping him, too, even if he wasn't aware he was doing it.

She wasn't sure how long they stayed there, huddled together, but after a while she realized that she hadn't released Kurt's other bound wrist. She needed to do that. They had to get out of the closet. And she was certain that Kurt needed medical attention. As did she, but…she chose to focus on him.

Still supporting most of Kurt's weight, Mercedes reached up to untie the second scarf. He sagged against her as she carefully lowered his injured arm.

Mercedes wasn't sure exactly who was leaning on who as they made their way out of the closet and over to the bed, where they both rested for a couple minutes and surveyed the damage. Her vision was still foggy, but it didn't prevent her from noticing that the beasts had left nothing untouched. Everything that could be was broken. Even the mattress on Kurt's bed had been slashed. The worst, she decided, were the multiple dark stains on what used to be a pristine white carpet. It used to be so pretty and perfect. Now…

She realized there was something worse than the carpet after all. She watched as Kurt picked up the damaged frame that had set his nightstand. Glass had cut into the image of the happy little family. Father. Son…Mother. The glass had gouged into her smiling face. At Kurt's tiny broken sob, Mercedes reached up to gently sweep the hair away from his face, distracting him as she eased the frame from his grasp.

Kurt wobbled when he finally got up. Mercedes wanted to cry as she watched him move away from her, his movements stiff and labored. But then was coming back, her nightgown gathered in his hand.

Very carefully he helped her put it back on, his hand gently grazing her skin as he pulled it down to cover her. She noticed his eyes tearing up again as he smoothed the silky fabric into place, but didn't stop him, even though she felt that the wrinkles in the garment were the least of their worries.

Once she was dressed, he moved away again. His pajamas lay in ruined tatters, so he ignored them and began a slow shuffle toward where his bath robe hung on the bathroom door. When he swayed on his feet, Mercedes was on her feet and at his side, ready to steady him. When he faltered, a small whimper ripping from his throat as he tried to reach up, she pulled the robe down from its hook. For a few moments he stared past her into the bathroom. At the shower.

She shook her head. _Sorry, Baby, but no_. As much as she wanted that, too, they couldn't.

They were _evidence_.

After a few moments, she saw a small spark in his eyes and she thought he was going to argue, but instead he gave her a tiny hint of a smile and nodded his agreement.

She helped him ease his arm through the sleeve before wrapping the fluffy coat around him and tied it closed for him.

The trek upstairs was a lot harder than it should have been. It was only 18 steps from the bottom to the top. Still, to Mercedes it felt as though it were a ten mile hike, uphill the entire way. Kurt didn't look much like he was faring any better and more than once, she was fairly sure that she kept him from falling back down the steps.

Mercedes felt completely numb as she took in the damage to the main floor of the house.

If it weren't for the smell of the spray paint she might have been able to pretend it was a tornado that had blown through, ripping the pictures off walls, destroying all the furniture and décor in its path. Her vision was still too blurred to actually read the words, but Mercedes was fairly certain that she knew the gist of what it all said anyway.

There was one spot in particular that seemed to draw Kurt's attention. She felt him freeze, heard him suck in his breath. She could make out the letter F, and then stopped trying to read the rest. She drew him closer. For a moment he rested his forehead against hers and they stared mutely at each other. Then she felt his lips graze her temple. After another moment, he was back on the move.

She saw him stoop to pick up a cordless phone from the floor next to the broken end table in the hall, but he didn't stop walking until they were outside.

Once there, Kurt carefully sat down on the stoop, pulling Mercedes down beside him, locking his arm around her waist.

For a few moments they sat in the still silence of the early morning. Just breathing in the fresh air and letting the gentle breeze soothe them.

Kurt's fingers trembled as he pressed the "Talk" button on the phone and dialed the three essential digits.

Mercedes leaned her head against his shoulder as she listened to the answering operator asking him his emergency.

She closed her eye as in a raspy voice not much louder than a whisper, he said, "I need to report…a break-in."

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><p>Thanks for reading! Comments are highly appreciated and are great motivators for me to get my writing butt (oh the imagery) working again…<p> 


	7. Part Two: Chapter 7

It was 5:20am when Dr. Lincoln Jones, DDS. got one of the calls that he'd dreaded since he first held his baby girl in his arms almost seventeen years earlier. He wasn't sure which of his dreaded call list he had received, exactly, but that his daughter wasn't the one making the call struck fear deep into his soul.

He knew he needed to remain calm until he reached Lima Memorial and could see for himself that it wasn't the worst call that any parent could ever receive. That his baby wasn't dead or dying. The Emergency Room clerk had refused to divulge even that much information over the phone. She indicated that he needed to come to the hospital as soon as possible, however, which led him to at least believe that his Mercedes was alive. Otherwise, there would be no sense of urgency.

He tried calling the Hummel household immediately after hanging up with the clerk. He wasn't entirely surprised that there was no answer, though he'd hoped that perhaps one of Kurt's parents was there and could shed some light on what was happening with his daughter.

He hadn't ever thought to get the cell phone numbers of Kurt's mother or father, an oversight he was deeply regretful for at the moment. And one he would correct as soon as he'd taken care of his daughter. He had serious doubts about ever allowing Mercedes to stay over there again, however. Why on Earth hadn't they called him when his daughter was sick or injured enough to require a trip to the hospital? He didn't care what time they called-day or night. Not when it came to his baby girl. Surely as parents they would understand that.

Dr. Jones wasted no time getting dressed beyond the sweatpants and t-shirt that he'd worn to bed. Nor did he wake his wife, Larissa, or his other daughter, Lexi. Though they might disagree, he felt it would be far better to find out what was happening before concerning them. He'd call as soon as he had a little bit of information. Then they could decide if Aston, his son, should be called. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

It was only twenty-five minutes after he'd gotten the initial call that Dr. Jones burst into the Emergency Room. Given the early hour, there were only a few stragglers in the waiting room, none of which Dr. Jones thought looked like they'd be related to Kurt in any way. He cursed himself for not having insisted on meeting Kurt's parents before allowing Mercedes to stay at their house.

He'd been completely unworried about Mercedes spending the night with the Hummel boy after she'd made it clear that she understood that Kurt was a 'special case' and that he would not allow her to spend the night with any other boy.

He'd been so damn trusting. What kind of father was he that he hadn't even thought about vetting the boy's parents? With horror, he realized that he didn't even know their names. He knew Mr. Hummel owned the garage down on 7th Avenue, but he had no idea what Mrs. Hummel did. Mercedes hadn't ever mentioned her. He'd met Kurt numerous times and he seemed like such a polite (albeit often sarcastic) child, who appeared to have a good upbringing, but…still, he should have at least asked to meet the parents before allowing Mercedes to stay with them. He just prayed that his failure to do so hadn't cost his daughter severely.

"I'm looking for my daughter, Mercedes Jones," he kept his voice level and calm as he checked in with the clerk at the admitting desk. "She was brought in a little while ago."

The woman smiled at him warily. "Do you have a picture ID, please?"

A picture ID? Why would…?

Dr. Jones decided he didn't care. He didn't want to waste time arguing. It was just a damn good thing he'd actually remembered to grab his wallet before leaving the house. He pulled it out and showed her the ID.

"We will need you to fill out a few forms," the clerk informed him. Before he could protest, she sympathetically added, "but I will send one of our admitting techs in to go over those with you.

"They're in Trauma Room 1," the clerk informed him, buzzing him into the secured area. "It's the first one on the left."

Dr. Jones' heart sank at the word 'trauma'. What had happened to his baby girl?

Even though he wanted more than anything to see Mercedes, his entire being filled with dread as he stepped into the secured area. Having no idea what to expect made it that much worse. Surely the clerk would have told him if the situation was dire. Why hadn't he asked? Between the early hour and his worry, his brain wasn't functioning quite right. Seeing a police officer seated just outside the door of Trauma Room 1 only made his fear spike.

"'Cedes?" he called out as he hurried toward the room.

The officer rose to his feet, and blocked the door. It took every ounce of Dr. Jones' self-control not to punch the man or shove him out of the way. "That's my daughter in there," he choked out. "Is she okay?"

"She'll be fine, sir," the officer assured him. "Do you have a photo ID?"

"I just showed it at the…yes. Yes I have one." He began fishing for his wallet again. "Can you tell me what happened? What's happening with my daughter?"

"We're waiting on a doctor right now."

"Waiting…?" Dr. Jones was actually reassured by that disclosure. Waiting meant that whatever was going on, it was non-life-threatening.

The officer handed him back his ID, knocked softly on the door, and then stepped aside to allow him entrance to the room.

Dr. Jones' hand hesitated just over the door knob for just a moment as he mentally prepared him for whatever he was about to find beyond the door. The officer hadn't answered his question.

He gently pushed open the door.

Relief washed over Dr. Jones as he saw that Mercedes was at least somewhat sitting up. She and the Hummel boy were huddled close together in the exam bed. She had her back to the door, her face buried against the boy's neck, his arm protectively around her and his head tilted to rest against hers.

Though most of their bodies were covered by a blanket, from what it looked like, Mercedes lay partially on top of Kurt, with their legs entwined. Dr. Jones was a little disconcerted by the intimate position.

Kurt's eyes were closed, but Dr. Jones couldn't tell if the boy was asleep or not. It seemed rather odd that they were sharing an exam bed, but Dr. Jones didn't think too much about that. From his vantage point, he could tell that Kurt's face was bruised, and his expression drawn as though he was in pain. Otherwise the boy appeared to be okay. That was another promising sign.

"'Cedes?" Dr. Jones called out softly as he approached the bed.

"Daddy?" It didn't sound like her. Her voice was normally so loud and proud, but this voice was tiny. And rough. And she hadn't called him Daddy in nearly ten years. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

He stepped closer and became aware of a sickening odor permeating the room. It seemed as though someone had doused themselves with far too much cologne in an attempt to cover up a foul body odor that still managed to pervade the air. It was so strong his eyes began to water.

"I'm here, sweetheart," he assured her as he reached the bedside, resisting the urge to cover his nose. She still hadn't turned toward him.

He reached out to place his hand lightly on her shoulder and was shocked as she flinched away from it. As if that wasn't startling enough, he saw Kurt's arm tighten around her. He glanced at the boy and found himself peering into enraged blue eyes. After a moment, recognition lit the boy's eyes and the anger fled, replaced by a chilling weariness and intense remorse.

"Cede?" Dr. Jones softly tried to get her attention again. "What's wrong, baby girl?" Kurt's eyes closed, and though Dr. Jones wouldn't have thought it possible, the boy turned an even whiter shade of pale.

What was going on here? What had happened to these kids? And where were the boy's parents?

When Mercedes still didn't answer, Dr. Jones looked back to Kurt. "Kurt…"

"I'm so sorry," the boy rasped, his voice thick with emotion.

The response did nothing but exacerbate Dr. Jones' anxiety. He stepped around to the other side of the bed, freezing as his daughter's battered face came into view. Before he could process the sight enough to respond, there was a knock on the door. A moment later a doctor made her way into the room, followed by a female police officer.

"Mr. Jones?" the doctor queried. He nodded mutely, his mind still grappling with the horror that his beautiful baby girl had been brutalized. Seemingly unaware of his distress, the doctor extended her hand. "I'm Dr. Balamuniswamy." She motioned to the officer behind her. "And this is Officer Leehan. With your permission-and yours, Mercedes-I will be performing the exam."

"The exam?" he asked, though the pieces of the puzzle were already falling into place in his mind. He just didn't want to believe the picture that was slowing forming.

The doctor gave him a sympathetic look before turning her attention back to Mercedes and Kurt.

"I know you two told the EMTs that you wanted to stay together, but I think it'll be a lot more comfortable for you both if Kurt gets his own room now," Dr. Balamuniswamy suggested gently.

Mercedes shook her head, though the motion was only barely perceptible as she still had her head tucked against Kurt's neck.

"Perhaps your father would wait with Kurt while we complete the exam?" She looked to Dr. Jones. "We have not been able to contact his parents."

Dr. Jones' eyes drifted toward his daughter. She'd mentioned nothing of Kurt's parents not being home when she'd asked to spend the night at his home. It was impossible to be angry at her for the omission now, but…his eyes drifted back to Kurt. At the possessive way he was holding his baby girl.

They'd been alone.

All night.

The scent of perfume masking an unmistakably human scent. He hadn't thought it before, hadn't even considered associating the scent with his daughter, but…he recognized it now. His baby…

_I'm so sorry_, Kurt had said, his eyes full of remorse. _He'd done this. _Never in a million years would Dr. Jones have seen this coming. He had implicitly trusted this boy with his daughter. And he'd done this? The bruises on Kurt's face made it clear that Mercedes had put up a good fight. And then what had happened? Had he apologized and sworn he'd never hurt her again? Was that why she was still with him? Or was she too scared to cross him?

As far as Dr. Jones was concerned, Kurt Hummel didn't even know what sorry was.

"Get that boy away from my daughter!" he roared, his eyes flashing with unbridled fury.

Before anyone else could realize what was happening, Kurt was scrambling from the bed, tumbling to the floor in a blind panic.


	8. Chapter 8

Carole Hudson loved her son more than anything else in the world. There was very little, if anything, that she wouldn't do for him. That was the only explanation she had for why, at just shy of 5:30 in the morning, she was driving into Lima with the express purpose of picking up a pair of socks that Finn had accidentally forgotten to pack.

She couldn't believe she'd gotten up at 4 in the morning just so she could drive two and a half hours (round trip), all for a pair of socks.

Of course, they weren't just any socks; they were Finn's "lucky socks". The ones that had miraculously taken Finn and his team to the championships this year. Apparently single-footiedly from the way several members of the team talked about them. In the absence of the socks, the boys had lost their first game of the tournament. That meant that they had to win the next three games in a row or they'd be done for the season.

So if Finn needed his lucky socks, Carole would do everything in her power to make sure he got them before their first game this morning.

The sad thing was, she knew that if Burt were home, he'd completely understand. She's pretty sure that he would even have driven the socks up to Finn himself if he'd been home. Men could be so superstitious about such strange things, she thought fondly. And at least she had a sense of humor about it.

Her amusement faded as she approached the house.

It was hard to miss the red and blue swirling light of the police car amidst the slew of cars blocking the street. If that weren't alarming enough, a few of her neighbors were outside in their sleep clothes and robes, their attention focused on her home.

Her first thought was inanely questioning whether perhaps she had left the oven on. But there weren't any fire engines, so she quickly ruled that out. Still, her heart rate began to speed up when she started considering other possibilities. With Finn at the tournament, Burt at the auction, and Kurt at a cheerleading event, no one was home, so at least she could rule out the worst possibilities. Couldn't she?

Someone must have broken in and robbed the place, she decided, and that calmed her slightly. Sure, that was bad, but it could be so much worse.

Then again, did a simple robbery really warrant all the commotion?

She very nearly forgot to put the car into park before she was out of it and hurrying up the walk.

She was stopped at the door, but she didn't hear a word the officer spoke as she saw past him into what had become of the house. Her hand flew to her mouth as she saw the destruction in the entry hall and what she could see of the living room. Tears formed in her eyes as she saw the crude lettering spray painted on the wall.

Oh. Her heart broke imagining what would've happened if Kurt had gotten home first. He would probably blame himself and it would crush him. And Burt…Burt would be just as crushed, knowing he hadn't been able to protect Kurt from this sort of evil invading their home.

"Ma'am…"

Carole realized the officer was still talking to her.

"I'm Carole Hudson. I live here," she told him, still unable to tear her eyes away from the damage. He allowed her into the entryway, but stopped her from proceeding further into the house. Still from there, she could see the rest of the living room, and just a little bit of the kitchen. "What happened?" It was a dumb question; she could see for herself what had happened. The writing was literally on the wall. Some of the words were mild and could be applied to any of them. Like 'loser' and 'freak'. She'd not ever heard the word 'fancy' used as an insult before, but it always seemed that people always found new ways to twist words and make them hurtful. The more offensive terms she could see from her vantage point were categorically directed at Kurt.

Maybe she could get it cleaned before he got home and had to see it.

Finn's socks would have to wait.

"I'm Officer Riley," the man greeted her but didn't answer her question. She flinched as she saw a flash of light. A camera, she recognized. They were taking pictures of the living room. "Are you the owner of the house?"

"No. It belongs to my boyfriend. Burt Hummel."

"Can you tell us how to get in touch with Mr. Hummel?"

It took Carole a few moments to think. "He should have his cell phone." She quickly rattled off the number.

Officer Riley punched it into his phone and sent. It must have gone directly to voicemail, however, because Carole heard him leaving a message to call him as soon as possible. He didn't indicate why. Carole could only imagine the sorts of things that would go through Burt's head when he heard that message. As soon as she got the chance she'd call him to let him know what was happening.

"Do you have any other way of contacting him? Or where we might find him?"

"Yes. He's staying at…" the name of the hotel completely escaped her mind. "I think the hotel's phone number is on the fridge. He's in Dayton attending an auto auction today. He should be home late this afternoon. Or maybe the guys at the garage might know where the auction is being held…"

"The number's on the fridge, you think?" Riley asked.

"Yes. I wrote down all of our reservation information. There are three different ones listed. One was my son and I. The others are Burt's and his son's. If I can go get the list, I'll be able to tell you which is which."

Officer Riley nodded grimly. "I'll go see if I can find it. I'll ask that you please stay right here until we have everything documented."

Carole folded her arms across her stomach as though it would calm her growing queasiness. It was still sinking in. Someone had broken into their home. Their sanctuary. And whoever it was hadn't stopped at painting a few slurs or taking a few things-she noticed that Burt's flat screen was no longer in the living room and ventured that other things were missing as well-but the…_animals_ had left nothing untouched.

She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Burt's number. Once again it went straight to voicemail. "Burt, it's Carole. I know you got a message from Officer Riley, and I wanted to let you know what's happening so you don't worry. There was a break-in at the house last night. There's a lot of…vandalism and a few things missing. There's some…things I don't think we want Kurt to have to see, but I'll take care of things as much as I can. Why don't you call me as soon as you get this message?" 

Carole began surveying the damage again.

Her potted plants had been dumped out of their pots. Sofa cushions had been slashed. She almost forgot to breathe as she searched the living room for the urn containing her late husband's ashes. She sighed with relief as she spotted it. Tipped over, but still intact. At least there was that.

Kurt's leather messenger bag wasn't as lucky. It had been slashed open and all its contents had been scattered and destroyed. As had the other bag next to…

Carole swore for a moment that her heart stopped.

Kurt's school bag shouldn't be there. He was supposed to leave with the Cheerios immediately after school. And the other bag…she thought maybe she recognized it as belonging to one of Kurt's friends. She couldn't remember if it belonged to the blonde cheerleader, the goth girl, or maybe the girl named after a car…?

Oh, God.

What if they were here when it happened?

"Kurt?" she called out, a slightly hysterical tone in her voice. She started moving, heading toward the basement stairs, but Officer Riley stepped out of the kitchen and gently grasped her arm, preventing her from moving farther into the house.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but you can't come in until everything is documented."

"Kurt. Burt's son. Is he here?" she asked, frightened of hearing the answer. Because if he was there…he wasn't in the living room or talking with Officer Riley. She didn't even want to think about what it meant. She blinked a few times, subconsciously aware of the tears that were forming. "Was he here?" 

Officer Riley looked grim. For a moment she thought he wasn't going to answer, and that made her fear the absolute worst. He looked around, as though making sure no one else was listening in. "I am not at liberty to discuss victim information until next of…until relatives are alerted."

Next of kin? Oh, God. She had to force herself to question further. "What…happened? Are they okay?" Are they _alive_ was what she really wanted to ask, but couldn't. Maybe if she played up her relationship just a little bit (and really, though he'd yet to ask, it was only a matter of time), he'd be more forthcoming? "Please. He's my fiancé's son; we're not related yet, but we will be. I already think of him as my son…"

The officer's lips pursed as he glanced around, as though making sure that no one else was listening in. "There were two individuals taken to Lima Memorial," he relented, giving her a little nod as though to indicate that one of them was, indeed, Kurt. "There were some non-life-threatening injuries."

The words were a relief, but she could tell that there was something that he was not telling her. His eyes wouldn't meet hers. "How bad…?"

Officer Riley didn't answer, but instead offered, "I can see if there's someone available to take you over to Lima Memorial."

Carole wanted to ask more questions, but she got the message that he really couldn't answer more than he already had. So she only nodded her acceptance.

Though it took less than ten minutes to get to the hospital, to Carole it felt like hours. Her police escorts allowed her to bypass the desk and she was immediately buzzed into the trauma area. There were officers seated outside of two adjacent rooms, and she immediately turned toward them.

"I'm here for Kurt Hummel," she informed them, looking between the two rooms questioningly. "I'm his…stepmom," she claimed, hoping to cut through all the red tape. She wasn't sure if that did the trick, of if it was her police escorts, but one of the officers moved aside to allow her entrance to the trauma room.

She took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves, and put on a brave face. No matter what she saw, she resolved, she had to be strong for Kurt now. And for Burt. She hadn't called him! He didn't know yet…she should call him and make sure he knows he needs to come home. She should…

She should go in and be with Kurt. She'd call Burt as soon as she sees for herself that his son is okay.

She knocked lightly on the door and waited for a few moments. When he didn't answer, she pushed the door open slowly, and peeped into the room, seeking Kurt. He looked so tiny, huddled on the exam bed, his legs drawn, and his head down and turned away from her. He was either unaware or unconcerned that his hospital gown had ridden up, exposing him far more than what she knew he'd be comfortable with her seeing, but for a moment she couldn't look away as she saw the dried blood smeared on his thigh. The bruise on his hip. His shoulders were shaking, and though she couldn't see his face, she was certain that he was silently crying. One of his arms had been wrapped in a temporary sling and was tucked against his body, the other…

Carole forgot all pretense of keeping calm as she saw that his other wrist was connected to the bed rail by a leather restraint. "Kurt?" she called to him first, her voice shrill to her own ears. "Why is he restrained?" she turned on the officer outside his door. Before the officer could answer, Carole had closed half the distance to Kurt, who looked up, his face spotted with darkening bruises, his eyes red and swollen. "Oh…Kurt," she gasped in sympathy. He looked so…tiny and more vulnerable than she'd ever seen him. She wanted so badly to wrap him in her arms and hold him, but was afraid she'd hurt him further. As she cautiously approached, she saw his eyes tearing up even more. She felt her own eyes filling and stopped moving momentarily, as though she were asking Kurt's permission to come closer.

He understood and nodded quickly, his eyes flicking to the spot right beside him on the exam bed, then back at her, pleadingly. She took that as an invitation and slid onto the cot beside him. Immediately he was leaning into her, pressing his trembling body against her, and she felt her heart breaking as he pulled feebly at his restrained wrist, clearly wanting to move closer. Ever since she had started dating Burt, Kurt had affectionately complimented her nearly every day and frequently gifted her with fashion accessories and other bobbles. He'd been free with his vocal appreciation of her, but he'd generally been shy about expressing his affection physically. That he was so adamantly trying to seek out her comforting embrace now terrified her, but she was more than willing to comply.

"Can we get this cuff off him?" she called to the officer standing in the doorway as she tentatively gathered Kurt into her arms. She heard one of the police offer to go get the doctor as she carefully slid farther onto the bed, easing Kurt into her lap. She wanted so badly to ask him what had happened but for the moment he seemed far too distraught to do anything but simply comfort him. She started to rub his back soothingly, but stopped almost immediately as she felt bandages beneath his gown. What the hell had happened to him?! She bit her lip to keep herself from asking.

He buried his face against her neck and she could feel his tears dripping onto her skin. "Shh," she soothed him as she heard him starting to make a few incoherent distressed sounds. Horror dawned a few moments later as she realized what he was saying.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"


	9. Chapter 9

Dr. Jones listened as Dr. Balamuniswamy-Dr. B., as the Indian doctor kindly offered to Mercedes as an alternate way to address her-described the exam procedure to them.

"If at any time you feel uncomfortable and want to skip a part of the exam or stop completely, do not hesitate to let me know," Dr. B. instructed. "But as much as you can stand, the better chance we have at procuring a conviction." At Mercedes's miserable expression, Dr. B. smiled encouragingly. "You don't have to make any decision right now about pressing charges, but we want to keep the option open for you." Mercedes didn't answer, but nodded. "Would you like your father to stay? Or is there someone else you'd prefer to have here with you?"

Dr. Jones realized that he probably should have called his wife, that perhaps Mercedes would be a lot more comfortable with her mother. She had always been a Daddy's girl; he prayed that this experience didn't change that. He also wasn't sure that he could handle watching her go through this. He squeezed her hand. "Do you want me to call your mother?"

She quickly shook her head and squeezed his hand back. He smiled faintly, but couldn't maintain it as she looked back to Dr. B. and whispered, "Kurt?" Her eyes watered again as she spoke the boy's name. Dr. Jones silently seethed, but outwardly he simply stroked her hair comfortingly.

"Kurt's in his own room, baby," he remained purposely obtuse to what she was asking. He looked at Dr. B. pointedly, giving her a very small shake of the head. He wanted that boy nowhere near his daughter.

He was happy when Dr. B. provided a reason that Kurt could not join them. "My colleague will be processing Kurt in his own room," she gently assured. "It's important that we collect evidence before it has a chance to denigrate or get cleaned away. Would you like me to call a victim advocate to come sit with you?"

"No. That's fine. My dad can stay with me?" she looked to him and he nodded, squeezing her hand again. Mercedes didn't look happy-not that anyone would be happy under the circumstances, Dr. Jones acknowledged-but she nodded her assent to the examination.

"Okay, then let's get started." Dr. B. set a large piece of paper in Mercedes's lap. Though she'd already described the entire process, she started again with the second step-the first had been performed when Mercedes had first been brought in and she'd been asked to remove her clothing and place it in a paper evidence bag. It made Dr. Jones feel ill as he considered that Kurt had probably been there when she'd done so. "I'm going to scrape under your fingernails. It's possible that you may have scratched your assailant; there may be epithelial or blood traces," she explained as she gently took hold of Mercedes's right hand and began the process.

Carole looked up as a doctor and one of the police officers entered Kurt's exam room. She felt Kurt tense again as they approached. It had taken her several minutes to calm him when she'd first arrived, and she didn't want him to panic again so she motioned for them to stop.

"Kurt, I'm going to get up and talk to the doctor a minute. Is that okay?" she asked softly. She took the way he shifted away from her as his approval and carefully slid from the exam bed.

"I'm Dr. Prescott," the doctor introduced herself. "And you're…" she looked at the chart in her hand long enough to glean a name. "Mrs. Hummel?"

"Carole Hudson," Carole corrected before she considered that perhaps she should have just let the assumption go. "But I'm living with his father, and I think of him as a son. His father is out of town, so I'm the closest he has to a guardian here."

The doctor nodded. "We'll need your consent to perform an exam on him."

"Of course," she agreed quickly and signed the form that was handed to her. Though Kurt had already been bandaged up a bit, she imagined they needed to do some x-rays on his arm, and check for other injuries. She handed the form back to Dr. Prescott, then returned to Kurt's side. "Do you want me to stay for the exam?" she asked, offering him some privacy.

"Stay?" he requested, his voice raw. She could see the fear in his eyes as he looked between her, the doctor, and the officer.

"Of course, Sweetie. Let me just try calling your father real quick, and then I'll be right here, okay?" Kurt's eyes teared up again at the mention of his father, but his head bobbed in approval. She gave him an encouraging smile before stepping out of the room for a moment.

Carole dialed Burt's cell number, dreading making this call. She could only imagine what it'd be like to have someone call to tell her that Finn was hurt when she was hours away. Worse, the message she'd left earlier now haunted her; she'd led Burt to believe that everything was basically okay, that the only thing he had to worry about was some paint and some destroyed items. Now she was going to have to break it to him that his son was in the hospital, having been beaten and his arm possibly broken. It could be worse, she knew, and it wasn't anything she couldn't handle, but she was certain that Kurt would want his father as soon as possible, so she really shouldn't put off making the call any longer.

"Morning, Sweetheart," Burt's groggy voice greeted her. From the easy tone, she doubted that he'd listened to his messages yet.

"Burt…" she hesitated, unsure how to start this particular conversation.

"Are you and Finn okay?"

It took Carole a moment to remember that she was supposed to be at the tournament with her son.

"We're both fine," she replied uneasily. "Before I say anything else, I want you to know that he's going to be fine, but I'm at the hospital with Kurt."

"Kurt? What's he doing there…? I thought he was in Toledo for that cheerleading thing."

"He stayed home," Carole informed him as she tried to figure out how to gently break it to him what had happened. There was no way except to say it. "Burt…someone broke into the house last night."

"What?" Burt suddenly sounded a lot more awake. "And Kurt was there?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "He's pretty shaken and…I think his arm may be broken and he's got some cuts and bruises. The doctor is in with him now. I've got everything under control, but I think…I think he could really use his dad right now."

"I'm on my way," he assured her. "Tell him I'm going to be there in just a couple hours."

"Promise me you'll be careful," she requested. "I'll stay with him until you get here."

After a moment, Burt replied with a heavy sigh, "I'll be careful. Just tell Kurt I love him and I'll be there as soon as I can. And…thank you for being there for him."

"Anytime," she replied automatically, though it was completely honest. "I love you," she added, a bittersweet smile gracing her lips as he repeated the words back to her.

"Call me or have Kurt call me if you need anything."

After Carole hung up her phone with Burt she was tempted to call Finn, but really didn't want to worry him with anything just yet. She'd have to call in a little while to let him what was going on, but there was no reason to wake him. Instead she sent him a text message to let him know she wouldn't be back in time for the game and that she'd call to explain later.

As she turned back toward Kurt's room, she caught sight of two paper bags sitting next to one of the officer's chairs. One was labeled M. Jones. The other K. Hummel. She frowned, but didn't think too much of it other than to try to remember which of Kurt's friends would be M. Jones.

Dr. B. carefully bagged the scrapings and fingernail clippings she'd taken from Mercedes's hands.

"I need to take a few hairs from your head," she explained the next procedure. "They're for DNA comparison." When Mercedes didn't protest, she proceeded to pluck a few hairs from first the right side, then a few from the left, and finally a few from the back. When she finished, she placed them in a bag and labeled them. She unwrapped a sterilized comb from the kit. "I'm going to comb your hair. This will pull out any loose hairs, and possibly find one that belongs to your attacker." Once that was completed, she continued the exam, once again explaining everything she was doing.

"I'm going to take a couple swabs from your mouth. This first one I'm going to run along your teeth and gums." After performing that task and smearing the swab on an evidence slide, she continued, explaining each swab she was taking in turn. "You're doing great, Mercedes," she assured the girl as the exam progressed.

When Carole reentered Kurt's room, Dr. Prescott was holding Kurt's jaw open as she swabbed the inside of the boy's cheeks. Setting that swab aside, next to one she'd already used, the doctor picked up a third. Carole winced as she heard Kurt gagging a little bit as the swab hit the back of his throat. She saw Kurt trying to jerk away and quickly rushed to his side.

"It's okay, she's almost done," she assured, taking his good hand and rubbing her thumb gently across the back of his hand.

Carole's brow furrowed as she watched Dr. Prescott take each of the swabs she'd collected and smeared them on slides. Carole wondered what the purpose of that test was, but figured that the doctor must have explained it all to Kurt while she was making her call. She held Kurt's hand as the doctor drew a couple vials of blood. Probably to do some blood typing in case surgery was necessary, Carole guessed. She wasn't sure what the small envelopes labeled with Kurt's name contained.

The doctor had just finished labeling the vials and setting them aside when Carole's cell phone began playing Finn's ringtone. "I better take this." She gave Kurt's hand another squeeze. "I'll be right back, okay?"

"If it's okay, we're going to draw some blood," Dr. B. informed Mercedes and Dr. Jones. She looked grim, her eyes meeting Mercedes's as she explained what each one was for. "One of the things we'll be doing is an HIV test."

Dr. Jones felt ill as he considered that his baby could be infected. HIV was no longer the death sentence it once was, but that didn't make it any more palatable thinking that she could have contracted it. Or any one of a number of other diseases, he ruminated. His dark thoughts were echoed as Dr. B. continued to explain her purpose as drew a second vial.

"This is important," Dr. B. said, looking at Mercedes with a soft expression. "Is there any chance that you could be pregnant?"

Mercedes's face paled. "Oh…God," she murmured, an edge of hysteria in her voice.

Dr. B. patted her leg. "I'm not talking about anything that happened tonight. We'll deal with that a little later. I just need to know if you've been…active."

Mercedes shook her head quickly. She blinked a few times, though a single tear managed to escape and roll down her cheek as she shook her head. Dr. Jones felt his chest tighten as he saw the lone tear. A rage began to build in him, but he did his best to not let it show. That's not what Mercedes needed right now. Later, when she was stronger, _then_ she'd appreciate his strength and his need for extracting revenge for her suffering. But now she just needed his support.

"I need you to put your feet in the stirrups, then scoot down to the end of the table, okay?" Dr. B. requested as she pinned up a privacy sheet. Mercedes closed her eyes, but nodded and obeyed. Dr. Jones wasn't sure his daughter was listening as the doctor described the next portion of the exam. When Mercedes didn't protest, Dr. B proceeded to pluck a few pubic hairs for comparison, then extracted a new sterile comb from the kit and began to work.

When she finished, Dr. B. sealed the comb into another envelope and picked up a handheld device.

"This is a Wood's Lamp," she explained. "It's an ultraviolet light and it will help me find any bodily fluids and secretions that the perpetrator may have left behind. I'm going to turn out the other lights so we can see better. Okay?"

Mercedes nodded and Dr. B. motioned to Officer Leehan to hit the lights. Mercedes closed her eyes as she felt the doctor swabbing a couple areas on her thigh.

Dr. Jones squeezed his daughter's hand, tears forming in his own eyes as he watched her discomfort grew while the swabbing began to get progressively more invasive. When her eyes squeezed shut, he was tempted to tell the doctor to stop, but if 'Cedes didn't protest he wouldn't either. This evidence would help prosecute the little bastard who did this to her. And he was going to make sure they prosecuted. Nobody got away with hurting his baby girl.

Carole broke the news to Finn carefully. She didn't want to worry him; there was no point in making him spend the rest of the day fretting while he was stuck at the tournament with no way to get home. She did warn him that there had been damage to the house, but she downplayed it as much as possible. Everything was replaceable, everything could be repainted. She decided that he needed to know that Kurt was injured so that he understood why she was staying with him, but again she downplayed it as much as she could, forcing her voice to remain calm and detached. "Sorry I can't be there to watch."

"No, it's cool. I can get a ride home with one of the guys," Finn assured her. "Tell Kurt I hope he's feeling better."

Carole had no premonition of what was to come when she returned to the exam room. She should have, she realized, thinking about the blood she'd seen on Kurt's thighs, and the bruising on his hips. And the way he'd been teetering on the edge of panic even before she arrived. Still, it came as a complete shock.

Of all the things she'd ever worried about happening to her son-and by extension, Burt's-this scenario had simply never occurred to her. But as she looked at Kurt, at the way he was positioned on the exam table-fully exposed from the waist down, his legs spread, his feet secured by straps holding them into stirrups…his face impossibly white, his hands clenched into tight fists clutching the sheet-she realized just what sort of examination Kurt was going through. She couldn't stop the horrified gasp from escaping her lips. She immediately regretted it as his face turned toward her, his eyes glittering with shame and humiliation.

Her first instinct was to leave, to protect Kurt's modesty. To cover her own shock. When she turned around, however, she heard his breath hitching and a pained sob. She closed her eyes a moment, taking a deep breath and steeling herself to stay strong, to not react the way she wanted to. She wanted to scream. Wanted to call Burt and tell her she couldn't handle _this._ Instead she blinked rapidly for a few moments to stave off the tears, and turned back toward Kurt. Giving him a sad smile, she returned to his bedside and reached down to take his hand.

"Just squeeze my hand," she murmured to him, leaning over to brush her lips across his temple as he endured the invasive exam.


	10. Chapter 10

Once Dr. B. finished with the exam, she helped Mercedes resituate herself on the exam table. She made a few notes on the exam form. Dr. Jones tried not to look disheartened as he saw her making a few marks on the diagrams; he didn't really see what each one indicated, but he knew from his own line of work that marks on diagrams usually meant injury or damage. It killed him to think about what those marks on that diagram meant.

"We're almost done," Dr. B. assured Mercedes. "You still doing okay?"

Mercedes nodded, though Dr. Jones could tell how _not okay_ his daughter really was. Her visible eye was wet with tears she clearly didn't want to shed, and she was being abnormally quiet. Of course he understood; she'd been through a horrifying ordeal. He couldn't expect her to be the beautiful boisterous girl he knew and loved. It was a shock to see her so subdued; his daughter was one of the fiercest women he'd ever known. Just like her mother.

Dr. Jones dreaded having to tell his wife what had happened to their baby girl. He knew he should call her sooner than later. She'd be awake soon-if she wasn't already-and would wonder where he'd gone without waking her.

He barely heard a word the doctor said as she explained the next things they were going to do, though his attention was drawn back to the conversation when he heard Dr. B. explaining something about a high dosage of estrogen. How it would prevent Mercedes from becoming pregnant. His eyes widened as he heard his daughter's response.

"Can I think about it?"

What was there to think about? "Cedes?"

She looked at him then, her expression unwavering. "I want to talk to Kurt."

Dr. Jones's rage returned and intensified. That little…_freak_ had no say in this. "You don't need to talk to him. You're going to take this…this pill."

Mercedes closed her eye, her shoulders slumping.

"The decision doesn't have to be made right away," the doctor addressed the both of them. "But it is most likely to be effective if taken within 72 hours after intercourse."

"She'll be taking the pill!" He felt guilty as he saw Mercedes flinching at the tone of his voice. Immediately he backed off. He placed his hand lightly over hers. "Sorry, Baby. Didn't mean to scare you. I'm just…trying to look out for you, sweetheart."

Mercedes's eye opened again, but she only looked at him dully.

Dr. Jones looked to Dr. B. for some sort of guidance. She gave him a tight smile, though he could tell it was strained. "If you'd like, I can have one of our counselors talk with you both," she offered. That was the most help he was going to get from her on this, he realized as she returned her attention to his daughter. "I'll be giving you a tetanus shot, and am prescribing a series of antibiotics to make sure that you do not develop any infections, and should help prevent transmission of any STDs," Dr. B. informed Mercedes. "Do you feel up to talking with Officer Leehan while I run over to the pharmacy?"

Mercedes tensed, but nodded.

Carole watched with slightly cowed fascination as Kurt pulled himself back together once the doctor completed the exam. She was surprised as the doctor collected the evidence she'd collected and left the room without any explanation of what was happening. Did that mean they were finished? Except, Carole reasoned, obviously they weren't because Kurt hadn't been taken to have his arm x-rayed. So what were they supposed to do now?

Kurt eased his legs from the stirrups. He smoothed his gown down as Carole helped him move back into a more comfortable position on the exam bed. His eyes closed for a few moments, and she saw his features rapidly relaxing from their tense, pained state as he adjusted to the new position. His breath was ragged as he drew in a deep breath, but after a second one it became more even.

After a few moments, Kurt's eyes opened again and he reached for the bed control so that he could sit up a little bit more. Carole could see only traces of the discomfort she was sure he must be feeling as he shifted, trying to settle into a comfortable pose. She couldn't quite smile as she watched him reach up to run his fingers through his unusually mussed hair, smoothing it back into place. She couldn't put her finger on why it bothered her other than it was so…normal. And there was absolutely nothing normal about this whole situation.

When she'd arrived he'd been a complete mess. It wasn't that she _wanted_ him to still be sobbing and trembling in her arms, but…she could understand that reaction far more than the almost eerie calm settling over him now.

"Your father's on his way," she informed him. "He wanted me to tell you he'd be here within a couple hours."

"Please tell me that you made him promise not to drive like a lunatic," he requested, with only a hint of humor in his tone. He squared his shoulders before turning to look at her. "Did you…tell him?" he asked faintly.

She shook her head, her stomach churning. "I didn't…I didn't realize what had..." He gave her a faint smile that didn't reach his eyes.

They both looked up as the police officer who'd been silently sitting in the corner approached the bed.

"I need to get your statement," the officer, Lyons according to the tag on his uniform indicated. "Are you up to answering some questions?"

"Yes," Kurt replied immediately.

"Do you want me to wait outside?" Carole asked, not sure which response she wanted to hear. She would never leave Kurt alone if he needed her, but she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the details about what had happened to him. Still, when Kurt shook his head and patted the spot beside him on the bed, she swallowed her misgivings and followed his request, holding his hand as he slid it into hers. That was the only indication he gave that he was nervous.

As Dr. B. retreated, Officer Leehan moved closer. "I know this is difficult for you, Mercedes," she said as she sat down in the chair next to the bed. "But, if you're up to it, I would really like to get a statement from you while the details are still fresh in your mind."

Mercedes rolled her head to face away from Officer Leehan. "I don't think I'll ever be able to forget the details," she muttered the words, but both Dr. Jones and the officer heard them loud and clear. Mercedes pursed her lips for a moment before turning her head back toward the officer. "What if…I don't want to press charges?"

Dr. Jones couldn't believe his ears. "Of course we're pressing charges. Nobody gets to do this to you and-"

"Daddy, stop," Mercedes cut him off sharply, though he could hear the strain and fatigue in her voice. She seemed to lose herself in her thoughts for a moment before continuing. "I just don't think I...I want to talk to Kurt."

Dr. Jones grit his teeth and glanced at the Officer.

Officer Leehan offered a sympathetic smile. "It would be best if we could get your statements separately first." She glanced up at Dr. Jones. "I do want to assure you that by giving me this statement you are not committing yourself to pressing charges."

Mercedes seemed to relax slightly.

"That isn't to say that the DA's office would not decide to prosecute the case, should the perpetrator be found. It's rare that that would happen without your cooperation, but you should be aware," Officer Leehan continued.

Mercedes remained silent for a long moment as she mulled it over. "Okay," she decided at last.

"Good. Now…I'm going to have to ask you some questions that are going to be uncomfortable. I apologize, but it is necessary."

Mercedes nodded her understanding.

After explaining a little bit about what she was going to be asking, Officer Leehan began the interview.

"I have to ask this, and it's really important that you answer truthfully," Officer Leehan reminded Mercedes as she led up to one of the more personal questions. "Have you had any consensual sex within the past 5 days?"

Mercedes hesitated, as though she was unsure how to answer.

When she glanced up at him, Dr. Jones's jaw tightened. Had she lied earlier when she told the doctor she wasn't active? Now was not the time to have that discussion. He did his best to keep his features schooled in a show of support for her. He wasn't sure how successful he was, though, as she turned back to the officer.

"No," she finally answered the question.

Officer Leehan glanced up at Dr. Jones for a moment. "Would you feel more comfortable if your father stepped out for a few minutes?" she asked carefully.

Mercedes hesitated again, though the wait was much shorter. "No. I…I want him here."

Dr. Jones's heart melted a little bit at those words.

He sat on the edge of the bed and held her hand as she continued answering the questions. He wasn't sure he really wanted to hear the whole story, but he refused to let his baby girl down as the Officer asked her to walk her through everything that had happened from the time she got to Kurt's.

"At what time did you go to bed?" Officer Leehan prompted when Mercedes's story stalled.

"We went down to Kurt's room at the end of the Project Runway marathon…I'm not sure what time it was, but probably around midnight or so."

Dr. Jones was tense as he listened to Mercedes describing how she and the boy had shared the bed. What had she been thinking? Surely she had to know that wasn't a good idea. Of course…she knew it now, and he'd never forgive himself for allowing her to spend the night with the boy without asking a lot more questions first.

"That's when Kurt… tried to hide me," he felt Mercedes shudder a little bit against him as she continued speaking. His brow furrowed a little at her words; he'd missed something.

"What do you mean?" Officer Leehan asked the question for him when she stopped talking again.

"He put me in the closet and tried to cover me. I thought he was going to hide with me but…"

Dr. Jones listened as Mercedes continued describing the events that followed. He felt slightly guilty as he realized the mistake he'd made in his rush to judgment, but at the end of the day, the Hummel boy was the least of his concerns. His only concern was helping his baby girl get through the horrifying events that she was describing.

Carole caught herself squeezing Kurt's hand as he succinctly answered each question. His voice remained steady, almost monotone, as he clinically described what had happened. She was almost chilled by how detached he seemed as he spoke of horrors that she could barely imagine.

More than once she wished that Burt were there in her place. She felt incredibly useless. And worse, she was falling apart far worse than Kurt. She swiped at her eyes, furious at herself for not staying strong.

She realized that he had gone silent and was looking at her intently. She wanted to pull him close, hug him tight, and never let go. Considering how he was playing everything so cool, she wasn't sure that he'd welcome that sort of comforting at the moment. So she could only squeeze his hand.

Once he had her attention, Kurt glanced at the door, than back to her, questioningly. It took her a moment to realize he was silently asking if she wanted to leave. She shook her head and leaned closer, placing a gentle kiss to his temple. He squeezed her hand back and then turned his attention back to the officer.

"And then what happened?" Officer Lyons prompted.

For the first time since the interview had started, Kurt hesitated before answering. Carole could see his calm mask wavering, but when he spoke his voice remained strong yet unemotional. "That's when I raped her."


	11. Chapter 11

Carole shook her head in horror and disbelief as she absorbed the words spilling from Kurt's lips. Her heart broke for her all-but-stepson as he mechanically described the next several minutes of the ordeal. At first she was too startled to say anything, but as the officer just kept writing down the details as Kurt relayed them she began shaking in earnest. "Kurt," she interrupted him as he continued his self-loathing narrative.

He looked at her dully, tears appearing momentarily at the corners of his eyes again. Then he blinked and they were gone.

"It wasn't your fault, Sweetheart," she assured him. "You didn't…you didn't…" She couldn't make herself say the words.

He looked away from her. She squeezed his hand, but he didn't squeeze back.

Dr. Jones felt as though he'd aged twenty years in the few minutes since his baby girl began relaying her story. The things she was saying were excruciating, but it was what she wasn't saying that was slowly killing him.

He felt ill as he listened to her describe how the Hummel boy had been so gentle with her. As if that made things any better? He wanted to punch something, anything, as she answered each prompting question. He wanted to die as she indicated that no, he hadn't used protection, and wanted to kill as she admitted that he'd cum inside her.

As if she could read his thoughts, Mercedes reached out to grip his hand. "He didn't have a choice, Daddy," she reminded him. "They would've…" She fell silent, her eyes drifting shut and her body shuddering.

"Can you tell me what happened next?" Officer Leehan asked gently after the silence had stretched into minutes.

Mercedes nodded, and Dr. Jones did his best to prepare himself for the rest.

As she began speaking again, he was disturbed to hear her talking about Kurt and how he starting singing to stop her from screaming. He knew she was leaving something out. He was pretty sure he knew exactly what it was she wasn't talking about. The reason she was screaming. And then she talked about how Kurt wasn't there anymore. Part of him wanted to snap at her, to tell her that they didn't care where Kurt was, they needed to know what was happening to _her_, not to the other kid. But he could see how she was struggling. And he didn't need to hear what had been done to her. He already knew.

"Can you tell me about the cuts on your chest?" Officer Leehan prompted. Mercedes only looked at her blankly in response. After a few moments she looked down at her gown, as though somehow she could see through it to the cuts that lay beneath. She looked lost and confused, as though she didn't remember being cut.

"It's okay," Officer Leehan assured her. "We'll come back to that, if you remember more later."

Mercedes nodded slightly, though she didn't stop looking down at her chest. Dr. Jones wondered if she really didn't remember or if she just wished she didn't.

Mercedes continued telling the rest of the ordeal, though once again it didn't escape Dr. Jones's attention that she was telling it all in regards to what Kurt was doing, where Kurt was or wasn't. Kurt, Kurt, Kurt. He didn't care. The boy could tell his own story; this was about his daughter, not the Hummel boy!

He exchanged looks with Officer Leehan, but neither spoke as they listened to Mercedes recounting finding Kurt in the closet, completely skipping over the rest of the details of what had happened to her.

"Was his arm broken? I think it was broken," Mercedes asked suddenly, looking to Officer Leehan for answers.

The officer smiled patiently, "We're almost done here and then I can check for you, okay?"

Almost done? Dr. Jones bristled. How could they be almost done? She hadn't told them anything that would help catch the guys. All they knew about was Kurt!

"I know this is hard, Mercedes, but is there anything you can tell us about the men who did this to you?"

Mercedes stared at Officer Leehan, her face paling again.

Come on, 'Cedegirl, Dr. Jones silently encouraged her. But after a few moments she only shook her head, her eyes blank again. He sank into his seat as he listened to Leehan prompting for physical characteristics-height, weight, hair color, skin color…anything. But Mercedes only silently shook her head, looking smaller and more shamed as she shook her head to each question.

"Can I…talk to Kurt now?"

Officer Leehan turned off her recorder and closed her notepad. "I think we're done for now. But I want you to take this," she reached into her bag and pulled out a small booklet and pen. "If you think of anything else, anything at all I want you to write it down, and then call me." She tucked a card into the front of the notepad. "I can check with Kurt's doctor and see if he's up for visitors, okay?"

Carole had to excuse herself for a couple minutes as Kurt continued his interview. She hated herself for it, but she barely made it into the bathroom before she began vomiting. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She wished she could unhear all the things she'd heard. Wished she didn't know. Wished that Burt were there; he was so much stronger than she was…though she doubted even he would be able to completely handle the horrific story Kurt was revealing.

She rinsed her mouth as best she could, and splashed water on her face. Her eyes were still red and puffy, but she knew she couldn't just leave Kurt to deal with everything by himself. He was already taking far too much onto himself, and she was being so selfish retreating from it as she had. He was, for all intents and purposes, her son now. And she did love him. For half a moment she tried to imagine what she would be doing right now if it had been Finn. But then she couldn't because all she felt was pure relief that it wasn't Finn in that hospital bed. She felt like a horrible person for even thinking that way, but she couldn't help it.

As she made her way back into the hospital room, Kurt was describing one of the rapists. He sounded completely unaffected as he described details that he should never have known, things that would no doubt prove to be invaluable when prosecuting. It was just so unsettling hearing him so calm about it. She felt like vomiting again as she listened to him describe one assailant's height in terms of where certain body parts had aligned with his own while the man was…on top of him.

"What can you tell me about the other one?" the officer asked.

Kurt closed his eyes for a moment, letting out an exhausted sigh. "Karofsky."

"Excuse me?" the officer looked up, surprised. "You knew the guy?" Carole frowned, hearing the suspicion in the man's voice. Or maybe she just imagined that.

"No," Kurt answered. "But…I heard him talking. And…one of the things he painted on the wall…"

"His name's Karofsky?"

Kurt shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe. But…he's David Karofsky's cousin. I heard him tell the other one that his cousin told them that the house would be empty because of the basketball tournament."

Carole's stomach clenched again as she considered the implications of that. She vaguely recalled the name Karofsky; she wasn't sure if he was on the team or not, but apparently he knew enough to know that she would be with Finn at the tournament. _He knew Finn_. Was maybe even _friends_ with Finn. This could've been…

"And how do you know that this cousin is David Karofsky?" the officer asked, and this time Carole was certain that she could hear the accusation in the man's tone.

Kurt must have heard it, too, because for a few moments he only stared at the officer, his body tensing and anger lighting in his eyes. When he spoke again, he spit out only one word. "Fancy." And then he turned his head away from the officer, clearly attempting to terminate the conversation.

"It was spray painted on our wall," Carole recognized, though she had no idea what the significance was of the word.

The officer jotted that note down. He looked back to Kurt, raising an eyebrow at the way Kurt had decided to shut him out. "If you think of anything else, you should call it in. There'll be a copy of the report at the station if you want to stop by later to pick it up."

Kurt didn't answer. He waited until he heard the door shutting behind the officer before turning his attention back to Carole.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, suddenly looking exhausted.

"Oh, sweetie, you have _nothing_ to be sorry for," she assured him quickly.

She looked up as a doctor she didn't recognize came into the room. She listened intently as he began explaining the results of an x-ray that they must have performed before she'd arrived. This was an injury she knew how to deal with, and she nodded appreciatively as the doctor explained the treatment plan.

Dr. B. returned to Mercedes's room and quickly explained each of the antibiotics she was prescribing, their purposes, and the possible reactions. After going over them all, she began administering the shots, explaining each one again in turn. Once each shot had been dispensed, she explained the regimen of pills that she was prescribing, and how long she should continue to take each one.

"And that's it?" Mercedes asked wearily when Dr. B. finally reached the end of her explanations. "What about…the other?"

Dr. B. patted her hand. "I can prescribe that for you if you would like," she offered immediately.

"I…I'm not sure. I want to talk to Kurt. Are we…done here?"

"Just about. We're still waiting on Dr. Jackson from plastics to stop down and talk to you about the cuts." At the questioning looks from both Dr. Jones and his daughter, the doctor added, "There are some things that can be done to minimize the scarring on your chest," she explained.

Mercedes nodded. "Can I see Kurt?"

Dr. B. looked to Dr. Jones, giving him the final say.

Dr. Jones wanted to say no, but looking at the pleading look on his baby girl's face, he just couldn't. It was clear that she didn't blame Kurt for what happened. Dr. Jones knew he shouldn't either, but he couldn't help but hold the boy at least partially responsible. The boy hadn't protected his baby girl; he'd failed to provide her with a safe environment. Still…it was clear that Mercedes wasn't going to back down. So he nodded his assent.

"I'll go see if he's ready for visitors," Dr. B. offered.

Just moments after the orthopedist had bundled Kurt's arm into a brace that he was to leave on-except while bathing-until their follow-up appointment, his other doctor returned and began administering a series of shots. Kurt kept his eyes squeezed shut, opening them only when another person made their way into the room.

"Are you doing okay, Kurt?" the doctor, Balamuniswamy, according to the excessively long name tag on her coat indicated.

He didn't answer except to open his eyes and look in her direction, his gaze not meeting hers. She smiled sympathetically.

"Is she okay?" he asked, obediently swallowing the pills that his doctor handed him.

"She's doing as well as can be expected. She's asking about you."

He nodded. "Tell her I'm fine."

Dr. Balamuniswamy placed her hand over his. "Why don't you come tell her yourself?"

"Am I…allowed?" he asked in a small voice.

"I'm certain that she wants you there," the doctor assured him and he looked up at her at last, his expression both scared yet full of hope. "I know you're waiting on a visit from Dr. Jackson, but if you want to wait together, I think that'd be okay."

Carole wasn't sure who Dr. Jackson was, and from the expression on Kurt's face, she wasn't sure he knew, either, but he didn't question it. Instead he carefully slid out of the bed, ignoring the protest as Dr. B. directed him to wait for a wheelchair.

When it became clear that he wasn't willing to wait, Carole and Dr. B. both closed in, causing him to momentarily freeze until he understood their intentions to help.

Carole couldn't help but notice how woodenly he walked, how clearly painful the movements were, yet he stubbornly continued his trek back to Mercedes's room. Once there, he hesitated again.

He looked to Dr. Balamuniswamy, still looking doubtful about his welcome. The doctor placed her hand on his shoulder and reached past him with her other hand to knock on the door. After a few moments she pushed it open and assisted him into the room.

Dr. Jones tensed as Kurt made his way over to Mercedes's bedside. It was on the tip of his tongue to protest and kick the boy out as he saw the tears once again starting to roll down his baby's cheeks. But then he noticed that although she was crying, the corners of her lips were curving up ever so slightly and her eyes lit up just a little bit as she took in the sight of her friend.

He watched as she eased from the bed to meet him part way. For a moment they stood face-to-face. And then to his astonishment, she leaned forward, carefully wrapping her arms around him and resting her head against his chest while he gingerly returned her embrace.

Carole wasn't sure what possessed her, but as she watched Kurt and Mercedes as they held each other, she felt a strong need to connect with the other parent in the room. She silently gave Mercedes's father a wintery smile as she moved to stand beside him and reached down to grasp his hand.


End file.

Glee, Friendship, Hurt-Comfort