Another broken cry left his lips and Kurt thrashed with much more intensity than before; the sight of someone in the room he previously thought was empty making the danger of the situation hit him all over again.

"Stop." The obviously male voice spoke again and Kurt froze when the figure bent down to his level giving Kurt his first look at his captor. Kurt looked; even though he didn't want to and while he didn't stop his useless attempts to lift his legs and arms he was able to see that the man, for Kurt suspected that he was a man despite the lankiness that suggested otherwise, was not nearly as physically intimidating as the men in the van. The suffocating darkness didn't allow for him to gain a clearer picture but Kurt could still see that like his tone, his face was neither kind nor hostile and instead seemed devoid of any emotion. As the man moved his face closer to Kurt's, Kurt was seized by an immeasurable terror and he clenched his eyes shut, expecting to feel either a syringe in his arm or perhaps a series of sharp blows to his head but instead he felt cool hands touch his back, not pressing him down but simply holding him still.

"You need to stop, the Rohypnol is still in your system. It won't wear off for another hour." The man moved his hands onto Kurt's sides and although his touch was removed and clinical, Kurt felt his empty stomach twist in disgust. "Until then you need to rest, it won't do any good to struggle, you'll just wear yourself out."

Kurt considered the man's words for a moment, his mind struggling to find the meaning behind them and when the man made no further attempt at touching him Kurt surrendered to his aching body, ceasing the twitching of his legs and slumping onto the mattress. He felt heavy fatigue settle over him almost immediately and the frantic thoughts he had been thinking only moments ago were mercifully disappearing as his eyelids began to droop. The man gave an almost unnoticeable sigh that sounded a lot like relief and through hooded eyes Kurt saw him twist away from the mattress only to lean against the wall directly adjacent from where his own head lay. As Kurt began to drift off his mind thankfully devoid of worry or desperation, the only thing he could see behind his closed eyes was the image of the man only two feet away.

Who was he?

"When you first realised you weren't alone in that room," Piper Ray's voice is soothing, as if she can ease the truth from him with a few well-chosen words. "If you hadn't been incapacitated by the Rohypnol do you believe you would have attacked him?"

It is a trick question, they are setting him up to fail. If he answers this question this interview will rendered pointless he knows that.

He swallows hard.

Looks at Piper Ray right in the eyes.

"Who knows what I would have done, certainly not me."

He's almost proud of how firm his voice is, it leaves no room for discussion and when he sees her sigh minutely he feels a small thrill of victory.

"You said in a statement two weeks ago that your first hour captive was almost the worst," Piper Ray's face has twists into an approximation of sympathy as she changes her angle. "Why is that?"

It is an insensitive question and it is actually the sort of question he has expected the media to ask, it's a subtle opening to the bigger scandal that lies within.

"Maybe because I was still drugged," he says, his tone unemotional, not sarcastic like he wants to be. "Maybe because I had been taken from my home and my dad."

His Dad is backstage somewhere, watching the interview on a television and ready to step in at any time to stop the broadcast. He wishes that Burt Hummel was standing by one of the cameras that he can faintly see in the corner of his eye. He feels alone but then again alone is almost normal now.

"Ah yes," Piper Ray blinks once, then again. "By that time your Dad had already issued a public statement asking for any information on your whereabouts, not knowing how close to your old neighbourhood you were. Had you been to Westerville before?"

"Not that I can remember,." His answer is honest and Piper Ray looks like she wants to sigh again.

"Tell me about what happened when you woke up and you were no longer affected by the Rohypnol."

Here we go again.

Kurt woke up with a start, remembering all at once what had happened. Unlike the last time he had come to consciousness his brain was completely clear and unclouded, the memories of being taken into the van and also being held down by the man who had been watching him all horribly vivid.

He sat bolt upright on the mattress, eyes hastily scanning the room for any sign of another human being but he found none. The room was slightly lighter than what it had been before due to a dim light hanging from the ceiling and now he was able to see how tiny the space was and also that other than the heavily barricaded door to the left of him, there was also what looked like a bathroom directly across from the mattress.

His stomach gave an uncomfortable twist and Kurt squirmed. He gave the room another once over, heart pounding and when he was sure no one was there he scrambled to the edge of the mattress and tried to pull himself off. He groaned softly as his muscles burned at the effort and standing up he almost immediately lost his balance. He supposed it was because whatever it the men in the van had given him, Raplin? Rolphyn? He tensed again at the reminder of the man and he glanced around the room again, immediately relaxing slightly when it was once again empty.

He gingerly made his way to the adjoining bathroom which consisted of a toilet and a sink crammed into the tiny space. Kurt winced as he entered, too caught up with his aching body to even be thankful for the soap that was next to the sink.

It took a while to unzip his jeans and even longer to relieve himself so when he was finally washing his hands in the little sink it was the first time since he had woken up that his mind was not occupied and his mind immediately went into overdrive.

His father.

Kurt whimpered at the thought of how his father must have been feeling, the blame he must have been putting on himself. His heart attack had only been less than a year ago and this surely would be enough to trigger another one. Kurt stuffed a hand into his mouth trying to stop the tears that were quickly streaming down his face, he had to get control of himself, he had no idea what was going to happen to him.

Suddenly the ache of missing his dad completely consumed him and Kurt doubled over, his hands clutching at his sides as his breathing became erratic as he struggled to stop thinking.

He couldn't stand another moment of being trapped like this. He had to get out of there.

He hauled himself out of the bathroom, grasping onto the sides of the doorway afraid that he might collapse. He went straight for the deadlocked door, managing not to fall down as he did so, coughing desperately and gasping desperately for breath.

"Let me out!" He howled, banging heavily on the door. "Let me out!"

When he heard no response he banged harder, his palms stinging as they connected with the wooden door again and again.

"Let me out!" He was almost sobbing as he raised his voice, not caring at all how he sounded. "Goddammit!"

The door was abruptly opened and Kurt was thrown backwards, landing on the floor with a heavy thump.

A man stood in the doorway wearing a mask and from what he could remember he was not the man who had watched him but instead he was muscly and menacingly tall. He was holding a syringe and Kurt flinched back in terror.

"Let me out," he pleaded, his voice breaking. "Please…"

"You're gonna shut up," the man growled and he began to step towards Kurt who tried to scramble back, trying hard not to cry out at the pain that shot through him as he did so.

"Please…" He mumbled as the man got closer. When the man didn't respond and instead grabbed onto Kurt's arm. Kurt bit his cheek to stop from screaming, feeling horribly vulnerable at how tiny he was in comparison to the faceless man.

He clenched his eyes shut, knowing what was coming and not wanting to watch. He tried to detach himself from the pain but he breathed in sharply as he felt the syringe plunge into him.

"Good boy…" The man whispered and Kurt wrenched his arm free, trying to hurriedly scramble to the mattress. He only made it halfway before he was overtaken by oblivion.

"That was the second time you'd been drugged," Piper Ray says, her face seeming for once genuinely sympathetic. "Except instead of Rohypnol it was a sleeping drug similar to anaesthesia called Thyophine."

He nods, hating the repetitiveness of the interview and how everything he says is being repeated to him as if he wasn't there to experience when it actually happened.

Piper Ray twists away from him and for a split second he wonders if maybe he accidentally said that last part out loud but then she is suddenly addressing the cameras and he sighs in relief at being able to drop his façade if only for a few seconds while the camera is not on him.

"Thyophine has been illegal in the United States for five years now as multiple doses can cause side effects such as permanent loss of hearing, hallucinations and bladder inflammation."

He didn't know that.

"The Smythe family," she continues. "Has admitted to smuggling in a large quantity of the drug from Cuba, the only place in the world where it is still legal."

His heart thumps at the mention of Smythe and he is grateful that the camera is not on him because he assumes that his expression is entirely transparent. He still has not gotten used to it and he doubts he ever will, just like he still has not gotten used to the pulsing light of the camera or the faux cheeriness of the sunset-yellow studio that he is being forced to bare his soul in.

Once again the urge to flee becomes almost unbearable, he wants to leave and for there to be no questions asked because with his situation it is completely understandable but if the people understood then he wouldn't be here and so he has to stay.

He is so lost in his own thoughts that he doesn't realise that Piper has stopped talking and is looking at him expectantly.

"Im sorry?" he rearranges his expression to one of apology.

"I just asked you if you would like to continue," she says gently and even though it's the most genuine he has seen her he still wants to rip her hair out.

Of course he doesn't want to continue.

"Oh yes," he says hollowly. "As I was saying…"

Waking up for the third time before Kurt could even register his surroundings or remember what had happened he was made aware of how empty his stomach was and how dry his mouth felt. The room was once again without much light and he was lying on his stomach with his head facing the wall and it felt as if his stomach was twisting and turning into infinite knots. While his concept of time passing was made hazy due to the time he spent intoxicated, he guessed that he hadn't eaten in almost two days.

His head was pounding and the ache in his stomach only seemed to increase as the seconds rolled by. Kurt withheld a groan and shifted slightly to the left in an attempt to dull the emptiness that was beginning to consume him but all that did was cause a magnitude of painto shoot through him.

He exhaled sharply, the side of his face pressing into the mattress as jolts of pain continued to course through him. He felt remarkably lightheaded and even just keeping his eyes open was difficult. He had only just woken up and yet his body felt weak and ragdoll-like, a thought that made him feel sick in a completely different way. This feeling of vulnerability was exactly what they wanted, what the Smythe family intended him to feel and he had no choice but to fall into their plan.

While the feelings of pain and dizziness did not disappear Kurt felt himself becoming more aware and lying there, trying to focus on something other than himself he suddenly realised that he could hear that someone, someone other than him was breathing. Reflexively he quickly rolled onto his side, unable to stop the low groan that escaped him when predicably his body was shot up with pain.

Opening his eyes from when they had been shut in pain, Kurt found himself lying almost on the edge of the mattress and only two feet away from the same person who had stood over him hours before, who was once again sitting down on the floor next to the mattress. Kurt's eyes widened in shock and for once he was able to forget his aching body.

Now that there was more light, Kurt could now see the man's features instead of the vague impression he had managed while he had been too drugged up to notice much. He looked no older than 19, his face still retaining an element of youth despite his sharp cheekbones. His hair was either a light brown or perhaps a dark blonde While Kurt couldn't see what colour his eyes were, he could see dark shadows under them and like the last time he could also see the way they seemed to be blank with no emotional depth at all.

Kurt shivered as the man or boy rather, continued to stare at him, his gaze not intimidating nor comforting and Kurt felt unease spread over him as he stared back, unable to stop his expression twisting with fear.

Eventually the boy broke the almost staring competition by looking away, his expression unchanged but there was a tightness in his jaw that wasn't there before. Kurt rolled onto his back, groaning as he was made aware of how completely wrecked he was. He needed food, he needed water there but to have to ask, to beg for something, it would up his vulnerability to a new level and he couldn't do that, he was going to lose this but on his own terms.

So he didn't ask for food, he didn't ask for water, he just waited. He breathed in and out, careful not match his own breaths to those of the boy he knew was only a few feet away. He tried to distract himself by counting the cracks on the wall he could barely see but with every minute his energy seeped further and further away and pretty soon the only thing on his mind was sustenance, sustenance he could not bear to ask for.

He didn't realise he was moaning until he felt cool hands gently turning him over so that he was lying on his back. Kurt wrenched his eyes open to see that he was looking up at the boy who had been watching over him.

"Fuck." The boy spoke before Kurt could react and anything Kurt would have said was pushed from his mind at the sight of the boy's expression. His eyes were no longer emotionless but instead alight with barely concealed anger.

"Fuck," The boy repeated again and Kurt squirmed under his heavy gaze, summoning all his strength to weakly attempt at batting the boy's hands away from his shoulders.

The boy took the hint and removed his hands. "When was the last time you ate?" he asked roughly.

"I-don't-remember," Kurt croaked, too tired to stall and the boy's expression hardened. Kurt tried to scrutinise the boy harder but the new position he was in meant that not only did he feel boneless and weak but his head seemed to be hurting with a new intensity, every sound seemed to echo in his mind and the more he tried to focus the harder it became.

Kurt was so caught up in the confines of his own mind that he didn't realise that the boy had left until he heard the slam of the door. Almost idly he realised that the door was in fact unlocked now but the thought of moving off the bed and then trying to escape was too painful and impossible to even consider it.

"What are you doing? You're supposed to be guarding him!" A voice yelled from outside the room and it took Kurt awhile to place it as the same man who had put him to sleep. He shivered, the memory of the crushing terror making his stomach twist.

"What the hell Joseph?!" Another voice spoke and Kurt immediately knew it was the boy who had been watching him. "You haven't given him anything to eat! He's not a fucking animal!"

Kurt heard a few muffled exclamations and a large thump then silence. What was going on? Was their plan to starve him to death?

He's not a fucking animal.

Kurt's head throbbed, from his weak state or confusion, he didn't know. His breathing became slower, short laboured gasps leaving his lips and filling up the empty silence that filled the entire room. He had almost lost track of time, his eyelids drooping from exhaustion when the sound of the door being opened brought him back to his senses.

It was the boy again and with him he had brought a tray that Kurt could see held a plastic bottle of water and what looked like bread. His stomach leapt at the sight of food and Kurt clung desperately to the hope that the food was for him, no longer caring how vulnerable he looked.

The tray was set down on the bed next to him and almost immediately Kurt was being lifted like he weighed nothing into a sitting position.

Kurt was too weak to protest at the strange touch and he was unable to stop the loud whimper that escaped him as his head lolled to the side and he felt himself flush in shame. The boy's face remained passive thankfully as he shifted Kurt into a more comfortable position and when Kurt was pressed up against the wall he placed the tray into Kurt's lap, careful not to touch him anymore.

Kurt breathed in deeply, eyeing the food and water with trepidation. While all he wanted to do was gulp down the water and ease the burn in his stomach, his previous fears still lingered and clearing his throat he addressed the boy who was still kneeling next to the mattress.

"It's not poisoned is it?" Kurt's voice was rough and he his hand itched to grasp the water bottle.

"No," The boy said, not looking at him but Kurt could see that his expression was back to being blank as was his voice. "If they wanted you dead, you would be dead."

Kurt eyed him for a second but as the boy remained silent Kurt immediately turned his attention back to the tray, already reaching out for the bottle, heart thumping with relief.

It wasn't until later, when he had finished the food and he was lying on the mattress, feeling sleepy, that he replayed their conversation.

"If they wanted you dead, you would be dead."

They?

He was not stupid he knew who "they" were but surely the boy was one of them?

It almost kept him awake as it was easier to focus on then his father or friends back home but eventually thoughts and emotions begun to blur together and he fell asleep, the small mystery all but forgotten.

A/N Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews! I'm so glad you're all enjoying this! Like every story that I write this is unbeta'd so I apologise for any silly mistakes...

And also while i didn't make up Rohypnol I did make up Thyophine lol.

Review (: