So...no excuses besides laziness. But this chapter is kinda light so I hope it makes up.

Warnings: BDSM

Chapter Six: They Do Exist

Kurt had only dreamed of his mother once after she had died, two weeks after the funeral. He was in the backseat of a car, the edges of the dream fuzzy and cloudy like all others, and they were driving in some rich suburban neighborhood to go pick up his mother. They had arrived at a four-story mansion, complete with an automatic gate, a courtyard and a bunch of expensive shrubs and flowers. A woman had come out of the gate and from his seat in the car, he couldn't see her head as she was taller than the vehicle, but he knew it was Marina.

She was walking around the side of the car to the backseat where he was and suddenly he was filled with this intense emotion of bliss and so much happiness that his heart swelled and his cheeks ached from grinning. She was about to open the door and finally he would see her face when the dream ended. Dreams of her never came again.

Until now.

It came as a shock to him, opening his eyes to the blurred lines of his imagination. They were in Bee's Ice Cream Parlor where she always took him if he got a grade A on his exam or he did something she was extremely proud of – like stitching the tears in her worn nurse's shrubs with the perfect color of thread or sticking back the heel on her black work shoes. They were eating ice cream and looking out the window, playing a favorite game of his where she counted all the red cars and he counted all the blue ones and whoever got the most got a candy bar.

The game was 12 – 8, in his favor, when his mother abruptly turned towards him and placed a hand on his, her fingertips cold from the air condition in the shop. He looked at her and stopped licking his ice cream, her face creased with worry and heavy with a burden he couldn't see.

She spoke to him and although she was right in front of him, her voice came as though the whole building was speaking to him. Not exactly from her mouth but from all around. "I want you to hold on, okay?" she said and the disquieting stare she pinned him with was enough to make him nod his head, even though he had no idea what she was talking about.

"I know things are rough and all," she continued, "but they are going to get better. You just can't give up or give in just yet. Okay?" He nodded again. "Always remember that every cloud has its silver lining."

He giggled at the Stuart Little reference. "Won't that make them heavy?"

She smiled fondly at him but the matter at hand wiped the softness away from her face too quickly. "Yours may seem far ahead, but it's right around the corner. It may take a while to get there, but that's why stepping stones exist."

"Stepping stones?" he asked. It felt strange talking in a dream, almost as though he could control what was happening in his semi-conscious state and it felt so realistic, down to the vanilla ice cream, that he could have believed it.

"You remember that camping trip when we had to cross the river and the waters were a bit choppy and the riverbed deep?" He nodded again. "There was no other way to the campsite but by crossing the river. There were scary animals behind us the whole time but the campsite was safe and fenced around. We had gotten a bit lost on the way."

Kurt licked the ice cream that had dripped down his hand and around the cone. "What about it?"

"The only way to cross the river was by using those stepping stones. They looked almost God-sent, honestly, in an almost perfect line straight across the river with a little jump at the end."

His mother was an avid church-goer and she often took Kurt to services but Andy was not. Kurt was too young to really understand what the preacher shouted and sweated about and the church was hot and stifling and his belly grumbled a lot so back then he hated church.

"I let you go first, in front of me, because I didn't want the animals to get to you. You were so scared because you thought the stones weren't sturdy enough and that you'd fall over but you did it. You crossed the river and you reached the other side." She smiled, remembering clearly what happened. Kurt remembered it too but there was nothing for him to smile about because at that moment he was so scared he feared he was about to shit in his pants.

"That's what stepping stones are, instead they are real people. Kind, friendly people who would help you out of your struggles to the other side where it's safe. You may not trust them in the beginning, but eventually you'll learn too and things will be alright." She placed her palm on his face which was strangely warm and he snuggled his face in it. "Things will be alright."

Then the dream faded around them until there was nothing. He felt himself being pushed to the surface, back to a conscious state.

Waking up disoriented was the worst feeling. His body felt like lead, his vision was cloudy and he couldn't feel his limbs. It took several minutes, or perhaps it was several hours of just lying there on the bed until he could feel some strength returning to him. There was a hollow feeling in his stomach, a profound and aching hunger that sent waves of nausea through him. He had never felt that hungry before. His throat was parched and there was an odd stinging sensation on his wrists and ankles. The dream was pushed to the back of his head.

Finally, his eyes cleared and he made out his room. He turned his head to the left and saw a folded table that had been set up with mechanical devices Kurt couldn't quite make out. On the right side were discarded clothes, a syringe and an empty bottle of Viagra. Kurt screwed up his face at the erection pills, wondering where those came from. The window was open. Cool air blew in and made him aware of the sheen of sweat on his body. His mind felt ten times slower than normal but maybe a shower might help to wake him up.

He raised his body; felt a jarring in his arms and fell back down on the bed. The way his head hit the pillow made his brain go spinning wildly and the world started tilting. Kurt shut his eyes tight to quell the headache. He opened an eye slowly and tried instead to put his arms under him then push up but his arms wouldn't move. Something was restraining him and each time he pulled there was a restrictive force that yanked his arm back. He turned his head and saw with much horror that his right arm was handcuffed to the bed. The cuffs were two sizes too small and his wrists were caked in dried blood from where the metal cut into his skin. When Kurt twisted his hand, weirdly enough it didn't hurt.

His left hand was in the same position but this time there was fresh blood that was running down his hand. He figured he could at least sit up and find a way to break free from the wooden bedposts but his legs only lifted an inch above the mattress when it could move no higher and fell back down. His ankles were cuffed too with dried blood around the metal. Kurt wanted to panic, he was supposed to, but his brain just would not allow it. He couldn't make enough sense of the situation and his head was stuffed with cotton. Even his ears felt muted and the sense of touch was already gone.

He looked down at his chest and was amazed at the scratches and discoloration all over it. His nipples were angry and swollen, bright blood caked around them. The sides of his body had linear, red and swollen scrapes possibly done by fingernails. His hips had finger-shaped bruises and so did his thighs. There were teeth marks on his chest and inner thighs.

Kurt grew alarmed knowing that someone did something to his body last night, awful horrifying things that he couldn't remember. Not knowing made things even worse because it could have been anything. He had been subdued easily, led by the nose and so dominated that he couldn't even recollect what had been done to him.

He tried to call his dad for help. His tongue was swollen and heavy in his mouth and saliva dripped down his jaw. That was when his body kicked into action and he panicked.

He pulled and tugged at his restraints until the bed rocked and both wrists were bleeding and the blood from his ankles was soiling the sheets and he had started crying somewhere along the way because he was screaming although it sounded like a muffled cry and no one had heard him yet. He ran through awful scenarios of a thief breaking in and killing his father and now he was left all alone with no one to take off the handcuffs and he'd be stuck there forever-

The door opened. A stranger with an off-kilter wig poked his head in. Kurt recognized him as the transsexual – he thought that was the word for them – from the night before and sluggishly he started to piece the puzzle together.

"He's up," the man said without the fake voice. "With some side effects, I see." He chuckled darkly and entered the room fully. He only had on a pair of boxers. Kurt's jaw dropped – or maybe it didn't as he still couldn't feel anything – when he saw the two C-cup breasts on the man's chest with pointed nipples and everything. He saw where Kurt's eyes were focused.

"Like what you see?" he asked seductively, bringing his hands up to juggle them. Kurt snorted in disgust. The man grew cross. "Well you fucking begged for it last night, you damn slut. I should leave you there, shouldn't I?"

Kurt was alarmed. He didn't want to stay locked to his bed any longer because it was beginning to scare him. He had no control over his body, he could barely move and there was this thing standing before him that could dominate his every will. Kurt was accustomed to being dominated but this was a whole new level he had never been introduced too. Sure they used toys sometimes but never restraints as his father had those elements of BDSM.

There was an event in the past where Kurt all but groveled at his father's feet to inhibit the ban and only after he had shown the countless scars and how much it frightened him to the point where he wanted to piss himself when they brought out whips and chains did Andy finally listen. They had had a long discussion on what Kurt could deal with and what he couldn't deal with, the importance of introducing safe words before they began, and what to do in a situation where the customer wasn't being compliant. Light restraint such as blindfolds was allowed, however. Kurt didn't mind as long as there was limited pain involved.

"Untie him already. The poor kid's starving." Andy. Kurt breathed out shakily that his father had come to the rescue.

The man at the door rolled his eyes and walked over to the bed. He took up a key on the nightstand which made Kurt feel incredibly stupid that the key to his escape was right there while he panicked. When he unlocked the handcuffs, the releasing of the pressure caused a spike of pain in his wrists and ankles. The blood had clotted but was still sticky.

"That's gotta hurt," the man mumbled. Kurt was too calmed that he was freed to care. When his legs were unchained he stood up, wobbled on his feet and fell forward. The man caught him. "Side effects," he explained.

"How long will it last?" Kurt meant to ask but his heavy tongue just flapped in his mouth and spit ran down his chin.

"It might wear off from ten minutes to a couple hours. I'm letting you go now. I shouldn't even have to do this."

Kurt planted his feet firmly on the ground and bent his knees. He extended his arms to the side for balance. Then three things happened at once. Kurt took his first solid step, the man broke out into laughter and the door to his bedroom which was slightly ajar was busted down with a rambunctious noise and heavy boots stomping on the floor. The room was swarmed with armed men in less than three seconds. The laughter instantly stopped and both Kurt and the man stood frozen to the spot.

Kurt knew what it looked like: a naked teenager barely standing with a middle-aged, shirtless transsexual just letting go of his wrists to make a mockery of him, sex toys and discarded clothes all over the room; handcuffs and blood-stained sheets on the bed. What went on next still caught him totally unawares.

"Don't move!" an officer shouted and then one pounced on the man and pinned him to the ground.

"Get the fuck off of me!" the man roared. The officer pulled out handcuffs, similar but much bigger than Kurt's and locked the man's hands behind his back while simultaneously announcing the Miranda rights. "Fuck, that hurts!" The officer pulled him brutally off the ground and tugged at the handcuffs so he had to bend back, cursing, to avoid his shoulders dislocating from the sockets. The officer led the man outside.

Kurt stood there, not knowing what to do. His eyes were wide and frightful and he was slightly shaking although if it was from fear or the cold wind blowing through the window or even the side effects he couldn't discern. The men dropped their weapons and suddenly a woman stepped forward from behind the brigade of bullet-proof vests and AK-47s. She had a shrewd face with sharp features and brown hair held tightly in a neat ponytail. Her attire was all business and professional, her eyes cold and demeaning. Kurt took a step back and glanced quickly to the door to see if he could run.

She saw where his eyes went. "I know what you're thinking, but we're not here to hurt you." Her voice wasn't soft and comforting so it relayed her words with a whole different meaning. "Please don't resist and just come with us. We can help you." She enunciated each word carefully like if Kurt was a five-year old now learning how to speak.

"I don't-"

A scream came from the living room. "Kurt! Kurt!" His father was shouting for help. Kurt didn't think. He just acted. He ran towards the brigade, slipped through the space between two police officers and out through the busted door. Adrenaline fueled his movements, gave him purpose. There he saw his father being held down by two officers with one of them kneeing him in the back to get the handcuffs on. Andy was red in the face and calling out for Kurt.

"Dad!" He rushed forward and kicked the officer on Andy's back in the head then pushed away the other. He tried to pull up his dad who immediately ran for the door. Kurt was about to follow when rough arms wrapped around his torso and held him back. He was lifted off the floor while he kicked wildly at the air. He looked up and saw that Andy had been caught too and was now pinned up on the wall, still screaming.

"Let him go!" Kurt yelled, tears springing from nowhere and streaming down his face. "Please! You're hurting him! Let him go!"

He thrashed wildly in the officer's arms and bawled as he saw his father handcuffed and being led out the door. He pulled and kicked and screamed but nothing, nothing would make this stupid officer let him go. His dad was being led down the stairs in a stream of profanities and Kurt was calling after him. Andy looked up at him and repeated his name until Kurt couldn't hear him any longer.

He could no longer see him. Kurt threw his head back and wailed because they were taking his dad away from him. They were taking the only person he had left away from him and out of his life to God-knows-where and there was nothing he could do about it. His body twisted and he pushed up and for a second he was falling forward and maybe he could make it but just as quickly they snatched him up again and now his arms were pinned to his sides so he definitely couldn't move. He leaned forward with all his strength and the officer bent double but it wasn't enough. It just wasn't enough. He shrieked at them and said every bad word he could think of and when the shrewd woman appeared before his blurry vision entirely calm and composed he turned his undeterred hatred on her because she was the one that caused all of this.

He called her every insult he could sum up and she just stood there like his words were having no effect. The tears were still coming and by now he had given himself a headache. His voice was hoarse from screaming and it hurt to talk anymore. At one point in time he stopped and he let his body fall limp. All he could do was cry and when the officer realized he wasn't fighting anymore, he let Kurt go. There was no need to run or try to get away. Andy was already in a police car driving to a station miles away. Too far away for Kurt to run on his unsteady legs.

He slumped to his knees and bent over to rest his throbbing head on the cool, wooden floor. He wrapped his arms around himself still sobbing. Everywhere hurt.

"Sedate him," he heard the woman say above him. "He might start up again." But Kurt was too tired and too weak to do anything as he laid there on the floor. His father was gone. His mother was dead. He no longer could predict what the bleak future held for him. He had nothing. If this was what Andy felt like when the accident occurred, Kurt understood. He understood. Because no one went through this much emotional pain and came out unscarred.

At that moment he fucked everything. Abnegation, responsibilities, sacrifices. With a final 'fuck you' to Fate herself, he felt a sharp pain in his neck and almost immediately he fell into a deep abyss.

Things will be alright, the words came to him.