This story includes graphic language, violence, murder, molestation and graphic attempted non-con; mentions of past non-con. 100% AU. Puck/Kurt, brief Finn/Kurt, OMC's/Kurt - This is fiction!

The Waiting Game / Part Two

Kurt opens his mouth before closing it, licking his lips and fussing with his hair. Nervous. His attention turns towards the window, a sadness washing over him when he realizes this is definitely something more then the local police are letting on.

Protective custody, a motel, somehow hes managed to get himself stuck in one seriously sticky web, and for whatever reason, hes being kept in the dark about everything.

It makes him really uncomfortable.

The minute he entered the car, Agent Puckerman had turned up the radio and has not said a word to him since.

It is a long, awkward ride and Kurt closes his eyes and listens to the music in an attempt to keep his shaky breathing and frazzled nerves under control.

The motel is twenty minutes out of town and they park around back before ascending the stairs. Kurt goes up first, listening to the echoing footfalls. His heart pounding, palms sweating, he resists the urge to run -

The knot in his stomach balling tighter. Once inside, after searching the room, Puck asks, "What would you like to order? and Kurt starts.

Dragging his attention away from the tacky bronze carpet, he shrugs. "Whatever is fine," he replies before looking away again.

It doesnt matter; Kurts fairly sure he cannot stomach anything anyway. Putting down his bag, out of the corner of his eye he notices the officer reaching for his phone.

The stony expression on his face as he turns away, before stepping out of the room - Which houses two queen beds, a main living area with a couch, TV, and small kitchenette to the side - Its pretty extravagant for this sort of situation albeit tawdry, but then again, Kurt can safely assume that this is not a normal babysitting job.

Tosh is obviously far more dangerous then the police are letting on, and Puckerman, even though he is oh, so callous, Kurt has to wonder if he is always like this or if it is merely the job.

Listening, he can hear faint talking outside and Kurt shrugs. Choosing the bed farthest from the door, he lies down and turns towards the wall. Staring at dirty smudged fingerprints and dusty white wall, he quickly falls asleep.

The knot in his stomach slowly uncoils.

:::

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Kurts eyes snap open, instantly alert, he rolls over; the smell of pizza warms his belly. In his sleep-addled state, Kurt could swear that Puckerman is smiling at him. Or is he smiling at the delivery boy - Kurt isnt sure. However, a moment later the door clicks shut and Puckerman is staring at him again, holding the box out like some sort of peace offering.

"You need to eat," he says, and Kurt shakes his head, rolling back over. His bed suddenly dips, and the smell of meat sauce and pineapple is damn near impossible to resist.

"Look, Kurt. I know youre probably not hungry after everything youve been through, but you really need to keep your strength up." Cardboard slides open, tempting. "I cant very well protect you if youre not even going to bother to take care of yourself. Come on, just one piece and Ill leave you alone. Promise."

Puckerman sounds genuinely concerned and Kurt nods. Maybe the guy isnt as self-involved as he original thought.

Sitting up he takes the offered paper plate before digging into the box, but then hesitates, his fingers hovering. "If I eat this will you tell me the truth about whats going on? Im not a child, I can take it. Please- I know theres something you guys arent telling me- if you start talking, Ill eat."

Puckerman frowns and sets the pizza down on the bed. "Kurt, I really dont think-" He rubs a hand over his mouth, and then claims, "Im sorry, but Im not at liberty to divulge that information."

Narrowing his eyes, Kurts face is aching, and he flexes his jaw. Shaking his head, Puckermans eyes are a brilliant mix of gray, green and brown and Kurt stares into them for a moment; he can read the lie. He turns his nose up at the food and lies back down on the bed.

Waiting, a flash of irritation gleams in the officers eyes and its pretty clear the moment Kurt has won.

Puckerman blusters, "Fine, if you eat two pieces, Ill tell you."

Kurts stomach flips but he ignores it. Nodding in agreement, he sits back up on the bed, crosses his legs and takes two slices from the box before siding the lid closed. He stares at the large, warm, cheesy pieces and swallows hard.

Almost choking on the first bite, Kurt manages to get both pieces down and keep them down without too much effort. Then flushes in embarrassment when a loud burp escapes past his lips -

He grins shyly up at Puckerman, whose surprised expression is nothing short of adorable.

But then Puck smiles back at him, and Kurt looks away.

His eyes dart around the room, growing impatient. After a few minutes waiting for Puckerman to open up, he finally settles his attention on the officer.

The television hums low in the background and Puckerman, sitting at the small table, licks the pizza sauce from his thumb before grabbing a napkin, and taking a sip off his cola.

"Youre not going to like this," he says tiredly, and Kurt tenses but does not argue. "There have been five others, all fitting the same profile. Slight, dark hair, ashen skin, delicate features - young men between seventeen and twenty-four, all attractive young males, like yourself"

Puckerman licks his lips, turning away for a few seconds before meeting Kurts eyes.

"Look, forensics found traces of DNA in your apartment. It could take a few days but they are working on identifying it. Its just a matter of time before we apprehend the bastard and you can go home."

Kurt frowns, he needs to know more.

"What happened to the others?" he presses, and Puckerman sighs. Tossing the balled up paper towel in his hand onto the empty plate. He straightens in his seat and Kurt notices that Pucks foot is tapping restlessly against the carpet and that he looks genuinely uncomfortable discussing this.

"All five young men were attacked in their homes," he pauses, "they were found lying face down in their beds with their wrists cuffed. They were raped repeatedly, not only with but a knife also," he shakes his head, paling; the light scruff on his face stands out stark in the poor hotel lighting.

"How can you be so sure that this is the same guy?" Kurt questions, horrified.

Puck stands. "Each victim was discovered by way of an anonymous call. The voice matches. Were not exactly sure why he broke pattern but-" Puckerman pulls back the curtain and peeks outside, "each victim was stabbed twenty-three times."

"Dave, he was?"

"Yeah."

Kurt considers, and then asks, "How much time was there between victims?"

Puckerman drops the curtain, and sits down on the empty bed, "Two- two and a half months," he says, and Kurts heart stutters.

"Ive been watching you," Tosh confessed, "for almost two months."

Biting his lower lip, Kurt does not ask any more questions. He can see Toshs eyes, feel his touch, and he shivers.

"Is it okay if I take a shower?"

"Of course, I wasnt really sure what to grab of yours so I just filled the bag with a few things. I can go back to your apartment tomorrow though, I mean, if theres anything else you need."

"Thank you." Kurt says appreciatively, and Puckerman nods, watching Kurt dig into his duffle bag.

A few minute later, Kurt is stepping beneath the warm shower spray, his chest heaving. He spends twenty minutes trying to scrub the dried blood and Daves fingerprints from his body.

The water runs cold.

:::

Kurt cannot stop thinking about the other victims and what more could have happened to him, what the monster could have done and what hes already done

He cannot sleep.

Agent Puckerman is sitting on the other bed, reading through a file. Every few minutes, Kurt hears the shift of papers. He eventually rolls over to watch. Kurts vision is a little blurry, but he does not want to disturb the other man by reaching out for his glasses.

Puckerman has lost the suit jacket and tie; his dress shirt is unbuttoned a little and his hair is ever so slightly messed. He is chewing on the end of a pen, and his eyes are deeply focused on whatever he is reading.

Kurt cant help but notice he is a very attractive man, which he thinks could be the reason the Agent comes off so rough and unapproachable.

He is handsome, and in his line of work, his looks are probably a cause for problem. The same or similar to, what an attractive female Agent has to endure. Kurt is curious as to why someone who looks like Puck does would become a cop. He considers asking, but then decides against it.

Its none of his business.

With a sigh, Puckerman sets down the paper and shoves all of the pages back into the folder. Then, glancing at his watch, he says, "Agent Hudson, Finn, will be here in a few hours to take over; he comes on a little strong sometimes, but hes a good officer. Hell take care of you"

He leans over the bed and stuffs the folder into his duffle bag.

"Ill be back at six to take over. Do you want me to bring you anything? I know this isnt exactly fun having to spend all of your time stuck in a motel room, so, if you want a DVD player, some movies, an x-box, even just a little something to snack on, let me know. Ill get it for you, okay?"

Kurt yawns. "Thats really thoughtful, thanks Puckerman."

"Call me Puck," he says.

Kurt nods, and continues, "All of those things sound pretty good, but I thought I was going to get to go home soon."

Puck sighs, "We need to make sure that you are completely safe before letting you on your own. You can understand that, right?"

"Yeah," Kurt breathes, hugging his pillow close.

Puck smirks and picks up the remote. With one brow arched, "You wanna watch Craig Ferguson?" he asks, and Kurt nods his head, already half-asleep.

He mumbles, "Sure," and a few minutes later, before the end of the musical introduction, he falls asleep.

His moist lips softly parted, bright hazelish eyes admire the slow rise and fall of his chest as he dreams.

:::

Kurt feels a hand caress his cheek that he tries to shy away from. Pushing his head back into the pillow, he is half-asleep and so tired, but slowly, his eyes flutter open.

Brown eyes are staring into his and Kurt scuttles back on the bed. Blinking to clear his eyes, he licks his dry lips and scoots back even more. His back hits the wall and he winces. Watching wearily as the brown-eyed man moves closer

"No," Kurt moans, shaking his head. "Where- wheres Puck?"

Holding up his hands, the man says, "Agent Puckermans shift ended at six. Im Finn- Finn Hudson, Kurt; you remember we met at the hospital."

Kurt takes a deep steadying breath. He can still feel a tingle against his cheek where the warmth of a hand rested, and he nods but does not move.

"My glasses," he requests. The second Finn hands them over, Kurt slides them over the bridge of his nose and peers up at the officer; he is unable to shake the feeling that something isnt right.

Is that better? You good now?

Kurt yawns, and then starts to apologize for his behavior. Even though there is a niggling feeling in the back of his mind telling him to keep his guard up.

"Dont even worry about it. Youre under a lot of stress, Kurt. Its completely understandable. Im sorry I startled you. I just, I brought you an icepack and some clothes. Theres some coffee if you want some.

"That, that would be good, thanks." Kurt says, moving his neck from one side to the other and stretching his arms up and out high above his head.

Finn nods and smiles softly.

He is halfway to the kitchenette before Kurt moves, shoving all four pillows behind his back. He really needs to use the restroom, but his heart is still beating fast and he doesnt want to leave the bed.

"Theres some doughnuts and muffins too, if youre hungry."

"I, yeah..."

Kurt crosses the room to the bathroom quickly. Staring down, there is no lock on the door and he frowns, pushing it shut. He catches his disheveled reflection in the mirror and realizes then that he is wearing only an undershirt and briefs.

He goes about his morning ritual, and as he is washing his face with the cheap motel soap, Kurt can feel tears burning at his eyes. He forces them back when there is a knock on the door.

"You okay?" Finn asks, and Kurt shakes his head no, wiping his face off with a hand towel. "Kurt?" Kurt does not answer, and a heavy tear slips past one eye as Finn pushes open the door.

Kurt takes a step back, biting his lower lip as the Agent looks him over. There is something in his eyes, something like hunger or want, and Kurt wraps his arms around himself. He can feel more tears dampening his cheeks, and his skin is hot, almost feverish.

Finally, after an excruciatingly uncomfortable moment, he says, "Im sorry, you didnt say anything and I thought I got you a cup of coffee, here." Finn hands over a mug that Kurt hadnt realized he had been holding and leaves the room.

The door is still cracked partially open, and Kurt sniffs the contents of the cup. The coffee smells okay, like cream and sugar, and Kurt takes a small sip. Licking his lips, there is a slightly bitter aftertaste beneath the syrupy sweet, and Kurt cautiously pours the rest of the coffee down the drain.

Hes probably just being paranoid, he thinks. Finn seems like a nice person, but there is just something off about the whole situation. After what Puck told him - now that he knows what kind of man is after him - Kurt is not going to be able to relax until he knows for sure that he is safe.

For some reason, Kurt does not feel safe with Finn.

Not like he does with Puck.