A/N: There was such a great response to the first part, I worked hard to get this second part out tonight. This will probably be three or four pieces. Rating has been changed to M for mentions of child abuse and sexual situations. Thanks for the love!

Kurt woke up to the feel of someone's hands on his bare stomach.

His first sleep-addled thought was that he must be sick, and his mom must have been soothing a tummy ache, but then he realized that the hands were large and rough and that his mom was dead and his father never touched him like that.

He opened his eyes to see an older man kneeling beside his bed, and a hand slapped over his mouth before he could scream.

He was laying on his side, his shirt had been unbuttoned and his undershirt had been pulled up to his chest, exposing his pale stomach. His hands shot up to pull his shirt down, but the man's free hand gripped his wrists and pinned them above his head, tossing him onto his back with seemingly no effort.

Kurt was exposed, shocked, his terrified eyes darting around the room looking for Finn before finnally landing back at the man now practically on top of him. It was difficult to breath with the giant hand covered his mouth and some of his nose; it smelled of sweat and dirt and cigarettes.

He didn't know what was going on.

The man filled him in.

"I'm Charlie," the man began, using the thumb of the hand holding Kurt's mouth to hike up Kurt's shirt above his nipples. He never took his eyes off Kurt's exposed chest. "My friends and I, we just decided to take a peak inside your beautiful house today, see what we could find. We found some great things, actually. Stereos, televisions, computers, you name it, you've got it. Must be nice." He slowly moved from a kneeling position on the side of the bed to climb up onto Kurt, first one knee on the far side, then snuggling his other knee between Kurt's, forcing the boy's clenched muscles to make room for him.

"Your friend is upstairs too. Or your big brother?" He glanced up at Kurt's face, looking for a reaction. Kurt just breathed deeply through his nose and focused on keeping his tears at bay. He would stay calm, wait for Finn or his dad to come. Wait for this stranger to get tired of his game, maybe beat him up a little and leave with his TV and game consoles.

"His name is Finn, right? That's what he told us. He stuttered an aweful lot though. Do you know what we're going to do to you two?" He leaned down closer, eyes still on Kurt's chest, and breathed hot, quick puffs of air onto Kurt's exposed skin. "We're going to take all your shit, and then we're going to kill you." Kurt jerked violently at the man's abrupt revelation, and he could feel himself shaking as he listened to the man's words.

"Not before I have some fun with you though," Charlie continued, breathing deeply against Kurt's chest. "Because my girlfriend doesn't let me see my kids anymore. And I do miss them. I have a 13-year-old girl, and a boy who's just turned 10. Their skin isn't nearly as smooth as yours."

Kurt couldn't help the tears that leaked out now. He closed his eyes tightly and thought maybe this man wasn't playing a game; maybe he was really here, this wasn't a dream he would wake up from or even a nightmare that he would be rescued from or that would eventually end. He let out a muffled sob when he felt the man's lips against his flat stomach, just below his ribs.

"I'm going to take my hand away from your mouth," Charlie told him. "But if you scream, then I'll have to mark your smooth skin. Do you understand? And even if you do, no one will be able to hear you except my friends and your Finn. And Finn can't do anything to help you. He's in his own trouble."

Finn was in trouble. Kurt nodded, eyes still squeezed tightly shut, focusing his frantic mind on one thought: Finn needed his help. He had to get him out of this.

The man slowly lowered his hand until Kurt could feel it hovering over his nipples. His mouth and chin were suddenly cold. He forced himself to open his eyes and his mouth began to move of its own accord.

"I'm not a kid," he whispered hoarsely, voice torn by tears. "I'm 17, practically an adult, I just look young for my age, I swear. You can see my license, it's in my wallet. There's money in there, too. A couple hundred dollars. Credit cards." He jerked when Charlie touched his calloused fingers to his nipple and ran a thumb along his ribs. His eyes closed again. He forced his voice louder, just above a whisper.

"I know my dad's pin, to his ATM card. I can get the card, I know where he keeps it. I can get you hundreds—no, thousands of dollars at any ATM. Just leave Finn here and I'll get you whatever you want." The man's thumb pushed against Kurt's bellybutton and Kurt voice got tight with his effort to control his sobs.

"My dad has friends...who are cops. If anything happens to us...he'll find you. B-but, if you leave us alone, just take the stuff...I'll make sure...Make sure he never knows that we—we saw your faces. Or threatened us. We could just forget about it."

Maybe it was the realization that Kurt won't ever forget about this, or maybe it was the feel of the man's fingers running just underneath his waistline and fiddling with the button on the front of his jeans, but Kurt couldn't bargain anymore, couldn't think about how to get out of the situation, just wanted it to stop, wanted to get up and go help Finn, to be, at the very least, with Finn during this so he didn't feel so alone and so helpless.

"No no no no no," he heard himself crying quietly. "Please stop, please stop."

But Charlie just shushed him, and Kurt could feel his fingers moving faster, popping open the button to his jeans, his breathing becoming erratic as he yanked the zipper down, and suddenly Kurt freaked.

His knee dug into Charlie's ribs with just enough force that the surprise of the attack makes him loosen his grip. Kurt didn't think, just flung himself onto the floor and stumbled toward the stairs.

Charlie was behind him, tackling him to the ground, flipping him over, cutting open his cheek with his knuckles, knocking his head against the floor. But Kurt wasn't thinking anymore, not about injuries or pain, just saving himself and Finn. His knee came up again, and this time with all he had he knees the man lower, in the groin, and he didn't stay to watch him topple over.

He made it to the middle of the stairs this time before the man grabbed him and punched him again, harder, in the mouth. Kurt screamed.

"FINN!"