Four people surrounded Kurt Hummel as he walked down the halls of McKinley High. Carol, Burt, Finn, and Blaine were protectively guiding him down corridors to first period.

Kurt was nervous about facing his peers after everything that had happened. And it seemed like everything had happened.

Since being kidnapped, beaten, starved, and terrified to the precipice of his life, Kurt had changed. His therapist, Darla, constantly reminded him that his recovery was going to be slower because his tormentor was still on the loose.

Sebastian's father was safely in the Lima jailhouse, charged with aiding a kidnapping. But his son wasn't locked in some cell.

Somewhere, he lurked, waiting.

Even now, in the safe arms of his family, Kurt couldn't help glancing over his shoulder, expecting to see the smirking madman holding out a fresh Dalton uniform and a shotgun. Kept flinching any time somebody made eye contact.

Of course, everybody was interested in him now. A kidnap victim would be pretty fascinating to Kurt, of course, unless it was himself.

He had refused to tell anybody most of what had happened in the Dalton cellar; he didn't want to see the pitying looks on their faces, which would make the whole thing worse, and he didn't want to relive the worst week of his life over and over, purely to entertain others.

"Hi, Kurt," Rachel Berry approached the posse tentatively. "I really missed you, and I'm just so happy that after a long time in therapy, you're back at school! Glee club hasn't been the same without you!"

"Thank you, Rachel," Kurt adjusted his mauve newsboy cap so that it hid his eyes.

Yes, he'd spent a long time in therapy – yet how Rachel had found out about that, he wasn't sure. Finn, probably. Ugh.

That time had been terrible for everyone. Nobody got any sleep, because sometimes Kurt's mind would trick itself into believing that he was back in that death trap of a car, back in the basement, in the cruel grip of Sebastian. He woke up screaming, or crying, or both. Carol and Burt would rush into his room and try to comfort him, but the routine grew tiring and Carol eventually just bought extra concealer and earplugs.

Finn had wandered into Kurt's room a handful of times in the night, just to check on him, and he would find Kurt sitting up in bed, his eyes wide, his mind back in the Dalton basement, or Sebastian's room, or the car.

His parents had moved his bedroom to the spare across the hall, thinking it would help him, and it did, a little bit. Because nobody had ever been kidnapped from the room across the hall.

Finn was always surprised when he found Kurt in an odd space in the house – like the linen closet or crammed behind the couch, rocking gently, a tortured expression on his face.

After a couple of weeks, Kurt's therapist deemed him stable enough for school. The only outward difference would be that Kurt would have all of his classes with Finn, for Kurt's own sake. Well, except study halls, where he would meet with Emma Pillsbury regularly for the rest of the semester.

Screw Darla, Kurt grimaced. How could she think I'm ready for this?

He hated the stares people gave him, the pity, the awe. Their eyes on the scars on his face, his arms, his soul. His weight, which was on the very minimum of normal. He could still feel his own ribs.

"We'll just drop you off here." Burt said gently when they'd reached history, which Mr. Schuster now taught.

"We'll be back before you know it, Kurt," Carol patted his arm and walked away with Burt.

"I'll see you in Glee club, sweetheart," Blaine's lips brushed against Kurt's cheek as he trotted away. Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt saw Azimio Adams strut by with a slushy, his eyes downcast.

"Hey, Kurt's back!" a girl Kurt didn't know exclaimed shrilly. All heads turned and bored into Kurt's. He reddened, doing his best not to run after Blaine.

"it's good to have you back, Kurt," Mr. Schue dismissed Finn to his seat and put an arm around Kurt, shutting the rest of the class out of the conversation.

"How are you holding up?" asked Mr. Schue hesitantly.

"I'm fine," said Kurt in a monotonous voice. "Just fine."

He could tell that Mr. Schue didn't believe him, but also didn't want to press him for details. So, patting him on the back, he motioned for Kurt to take a seat.

Mr. Schue watched him graze off to his seat. Kurt had flinched when Mr. Schue had raised his hand. A very subtle flinch, but it was there. The poor kid.

The life was gone from Kurt's eyes, that sparkle that kept everyone going and commanded respect had disappeared. He couldn't process this shell of the boy, vacant and polite, but obviously disturbed for life.

It made him wonder if what that Dalton boy had done to Kurt was worse than everyone was saying. Kurt refused to tell anybody anything other than the very basics of what had happened. And none of those people had pressed Kurt for more details.

Regionals were this weekend, and when Kurt entered the choir room, everybody was buzzing with excitement. Mercedes grabbed Kurt in a huge hug when she saw him, and the rest of the New Directions welcomed him back warmly. Kurt put on a smile for their sakes.

When everyone had settled back in, Blaine pulled Kurt into a chair in the back, his warm hands keeping him from toppling over.

"Settle down, all!" Mr. Schuster called as he walked in. "We've got to perfect our choreography for this weekend!"

Loud cheers sounded around the room.

"What about Kurt?" Rachel interrupted. "Is he going to perform? He doesn't know the lyrics, or the dance moves, or anything."

Santana gave her a withering look.

"Actually, I was just going to ask Kurt that." said Mr. Schue. He turned to Kurt and asked, "Will you honor the New Directions by performing with us on Saturday?"

Kurt took a deep breath as they all stared shamelessly at him. The room suddenly looked too bright, the clothes he was wearing too tight.

"Well," Kurt started quietly. "I don't think I will. Like Rachel said, I don't know any of the dance moves, or the words – "

"Don't worry about that," Mr. Schue waved his hand. "You can do it, Kurt."

Kurt didn't want to say what he really thought – he was terrified of seeing the Warblers. The uniforms still made him want to throw up.

The Headmaster, Mr. Dustman, had been so kind to Kurt when he visited him at the hospital. Apologized for everything that had happened, prattled on about how distressing Dalton's involvement had been, and that Sebastian was never to enter the grounds there again.

Kurt had just sat there, blocking it out. Because when he heard the word Dalton or Warblers, his mouth tasted of the stale sandwiches that had strung along his life, and his body felt the freezing basement he'd been forced to occupy for a miserable week.

And then the memory that haunted him most of all. That time when he'd insulted Sebastian at the Lima Bean right before Christmas. How bold he'd been, so terrifyingly oblivious as he glared into the eyes of an insane monster. He trembled.

"Kurt? Are you with us?" Mr. Schue's voice made the memories scatter.

"I'm sorry," Kurt sighed. He could feel Blaine's steadying hands and knew that he'd been about to lose it. Darla was wrong. He wasn't ready to be back.

"It's okay, Kurt," Mr. Schue said gently. "Nobody expects you to be completely on task today."

Kurt nodded slowly. "I'm sorry," he said again. "But I don't think I'll be doing the competition."

"That's fine, Kurt," piped Mike unexpectedly. "It'll be nice to have a friendly face in the audience for once."

Scattered giggles punctuated the silence.

Kurt bit his lip. "I don't really think I'll attend it," he whispered. "I just don't want to see the Warbler uniforms."

"Okay," shrugged Mr. Schuster calmly. "I have absolutely no problem with that."

"Well I do," snapped Sugar. All eyes snapped to her. "It's really exciting that you ran away with that Smythe kid, but you won't even support the team? Can't you just get over it already? Did he rape you or something?"

"Sugar!" Rachel hissed. "Back off!"

"What? It's true!" Sugar rolled her eyes.

As the New Directions all glared at Sugar, nobody, even Blaine, noticed Kurt slip out the door and run down the hallway.

And by the time Blaine realized that his arms were clutching nothing but air, Kurt was already far away.

He didn't know where he was going to go. He just had to get away from the prying eyes and curious faces of the New Directions, not wanting to ask, but dying to know the details.

His feet unconsciously guided him into the most unlikely place of all; Sue Sylvester's office.

"Porcelain?"

Sue sat at her desk, reading an article about the dangers of bananas, looking genuinely surprised.

"Oh, sorry," Kurt choked out. "I don't know why I came in here."

He turned to walk out.

"Hey, wait up," Sue called. She gestured for Kurt to have a seat. "Porcelain, if there's one thing my mother taught me, it's that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. And I happen to know that the Glee club is sharing a similar message to their unfortunate audience on Saturday."

"But I'm not stronger," he said to the carpet. "I'm a mess."

"Then put yourself back together, kid. It's simple logic."

"I can't, Coach. What he did to me just...it was like he electrified my mind, so now it's like thisfrazzled clump of terror."

"But when you act like this...he wins."

Sue turned back to her cheerleading magazine, indicating that her speech was over.

"Thanks, Coach." Kurt turned and walked out of the office.

"Kurt, wait up!" Blaine called as he saw Kurt slip through the crowd. "Kurt! Kurt!"

Kurt slowly turned around. "I'm sorry," he said when he saw Blaine. "I hurt you, didn't I?

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Blaine sighed. "Don't you see? We all still love you, and soon everything will be just like it was before."

"No it won't." said Kurt softly. "I think of how carefree I was. How giggly and excited all the time. And I can't get that back."

"You will," Blaine said. "And you're gonna be happy tonight. My house, five o'clock. Movie of your choice."

Kurt smiled a ghost of a smile.

"See? It's already working," Blaine laughed and strode away.

"So, is there anything you want to talk about?" Emma Pillsbury asked Kurt after he had sat down in the chair.

"Not really," said Kurt quietly.

Emma was dying to know the details. However, she wasn't so heartless as to ask.

They chatted vaguely about schoolwork, the new food in the cafeteria, and the upcoming spring break.

After an agonizing half hour, Kurt left the office. Emma sighed. If only she had a pamphlet for disturbed teen kidnapping victims.

She searched through the huge box until she found several that might work.

I Am Too Depressed to Even Open This Pamphlet

Kurt wasn't exactly depressed, he was more...numb.

I Am Terrified of Cars – Seatbelts Strangle Me!

Hmm, Emma mused. Kurt was in a car crash, wasn't he? Isn't that how they found him? However, he didn't seem afraid of cars.

I'm in Love With My Pet Dog – Now What?

...No.

Emma sighed. The pamphlets had failed her.

A/N: Yay for Part 2! And don't worry, this isn't going to be some long angsty story - we'll still get some action and suspense! :) Thank you for the lovely reviews!