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.