Home Part 1-B
Spoilers: Up to 2.22
Warnings: Kidnapping, violence, ableism, homophobia, physical abuse by a caretaker, a smidgen of Stockholm's, serious injury, tertiary character death.
Rating: R
Word Count: Whole fic: 52, 000; Part 1: 13, 520
Disclaimer: RIB and FOX own everything ever.
Beta: rdm-ation
1A | 1B | 2A | 2B | 3A | 3B | 3C
This prompt. If Will wants a family, Terri will give him a family. And if he wants his precious glee kids - two birds, one stone.
Rachel was aware, once in a while, of fuzzy things. They touched her hair or played with her clothes; once they swam above her and she could see them, dark yellow and blue. Usually she heard them. They would slither up to audible level and waver there before subsiding again. “Sweet girl,” they said, and “Don’t leave the key there,”, and “I need a gin and tonic almost as badly as I need to pee.” Once it was, “No, I want to put them together; they’ll be scared, and a brother should take care of his sister,” and she had wanted very badly to explain that she was an only child, that this was one of her most grievous sorrows, and so she had no brother. Then she wondered why she was assuming she was the sister in question and things went away again.
Sometimes, there was humming.
The first time she woke up, it was to a set of increasingly alarming circumstances. Her mouth was dry, her head was pounding, and she was cold. Her left arm was asleep, and her hands were trapped behind her back. This was due to what she could only assume was a pair of handcuffs, especially given that her ankles were similarly bound and she could, if she craned her neck, see those ones.
She was cold because she was lying on a linoleum floor wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt. It wasn’t much shorter on her than some of her smaller skirts, she told herself. That thought did not help.
There was something over her mouth. She screamed anyway, and it sounded small even inside her own head.
It did, apparently, reach Kurt, who stirred. She hadn’t noticed him until he moved. He was in the exact same position - chained, gagged with duct tape, barefoot, and barely decent in someone else’s old t-shirt.
Rachel started crying.
“Oh, no,” someone cooed, and a hand smoothed her hair away from her cheek. It was soft and smelled of a lotion she’d used herself a few times, almonds and cherries. “Rachel, you’ll get all swollen. Shhh, you’re fine.” Terri Del Monico moved slowly into view, crouched beside them on the floor. “Does anything hurt, sweetie?”
Rachel had read about kidnappings, and seen programs about them on TV, only some of them fictional. She tried to think of tips, but everything was jumbled together in her head - establish a rapport, tell them your name, avoid seeing their face, don’t give up your gun - and it didn’t matter because all she managed to do was cry harder.
“I asked you a question,” Terri said. “I want a yes or no answer. Does anything hurt?”
Rachel nodded, frantic and thoughtless in equal parts.
“What is it?” Terri sounded mildly put out. “You really shouldn’t be in pain. I’ll string that horrible man up by his imported shoelaces if he lied to me about these drugs. Where does it hurt?”
Rachel managed to flop over onto her back, crushing her hands and exposing most of the leg the shirt had covered, and to nod toward her left arm. Waves of numbness, prickles, and outright pain chased each other down in its length with her change in position.
“I left you too long,” Terri said, putting a hand to her temple. “I’d forget my own head if it weren’t attached! Can you believe I’d be this silly?” She put her hands under Rachel’s shoulders and heaved her up into a sitting position. Rachel, lower body entirely exposed, hunched over, still crying; Terri ignored this and started gently massaging feeling into her arm.
Kurt jerked, eyes opening completely, and made a strangled sound behind the tape.
“Hush, now, you need to set an example for Rachel, sweetheart,” Terri said. Keeping one hand in motion on Rachel’s increasingly painful arm, she reached out with the other to touch Kurt’s forehead. He twitched away, falling onto his back and choking when he landed on his twisted hands.
Rachel let her head drop onto her knees, pressing against her eyes until electric green stars exploded against the black. Baby, you’re a firework, she thought.
She looked back up when Terri moved away. She was pulling Kurt up to sit with his back against her, probably because he was taking this worse - or more violently - than Rachel had and was thrashing wildly.
“Hey, now,” Terri said, fastening her hand in Kurt’s hair and yanking his head back. “Don’t scare your sister. You’re both fine, don’t get hysterical.” She patted his shoulder before wrapping her arm around him, holding him still.
Rachel looked around; Terri was distracted, maybe she could get out (and send help, Kurt would make it until help got there) - but there was a closed padlock on the only door she could see in the cramped space. There were several windows - a small one to the right, a long one with smaller ones beside it to the left - but there was something blocking most of the light from the outside and she’d never be able to get out of them in time.
“If both of you will calm down,” Terri said, “I can give you some food. You kids must be starving.” She pinched Kurt’s cheek. “How about that? Can you both take deep breaths and calm down enough for me to take your gags off?”
Rachel nodded desperately, already getting ready, taking deep breath in preparation for screaming loudly enough to burst any nearby eardrums. Kurt stilled reluctantly, eyes darting to meet Rachel’s, before nodding as well.
“Good.” Terri smiled, sliding away from Kurt and standing. “Hold still, sweetie.” She gave a moue of apology. “This is going to hurt.” She ripped the duct tape off in one motion before leaning over and doing the same to Rachel.
“Ow,” Rachel said, and then looked at Kurt, and together they screamed.
“Oh my God,” Terri mouthed, jumping back and clapping her hands over her ears.
Rachel’s scream tore out of her, ripping her throat on the way. It was probably the loudest she’d ever been, and that was saying something. She could barely hear Kurt over the echo of herself in her head, but from what she could tell he was hitting an even higher note than she was. And they both had excellent lungpower.
She outlasted Kurt by a fraction of a second, leaving them both panting.
Terri sighed. “Are you two done? Really, what is wrong with you? Why would I park this in a residential area before you’re used to how things are? I promise you both: There is no one to hear you scream.”
“Why are you doing this?” Kurt said. “What are you doing? Neither of our parents are rich -”
Terri slapped him.
Rachel screamed and then went silent. Kurt’s cheek slowly turned white.
“Sorry,” Terri said. “That was an overreaction. I’m under a lot of stress right now, sweetheart. You’re going to have to be more helpful than this, okay?” She straightened her sleeves in brief, sharp gestures. “But you didn’t know the rule, so that was unfair of me.” She raised an eyebrow, shaking a cautionary finger at them. “No more talking about those people, do you understand me?”
“What people? Our - our parents? You can’t be serious. My dad needs me at home, his heart - he’s sick.”
“Kurt,” Terri said. “What did I just tell you?”
Kurt’s jaw set. “Not to talk about the man who raised me and loves me and who could very well have a serious relapse if he has to worry about whether I’m dead or alive? You mean that?”
Terri sighed. “I see,” she said, and hit him again. Harder. Kurt crumpled back onto the floor, lip bleeding. “This is hard on all of us, Kurt, and you could stand to be a little more considerate.”
“Okay,” Rachel said. “We’ll stop. He’ll stop now. Won’t you stop, Kurt?”
“Now, look, if your sister can be perfectly reasonable about this, I expect no less from you.” Terri shook her head. “This is going to be a tough transition, so I need you both one hundred percent on board with me.” She walked out of kicking range and helped Kurt back up, until he was sitting. “I want you both to remember that the lack of gags, the shirts, the food…” she reached into a paper bag on the counter, producing an orange. “These are all privileges, and I am willing to take them away if I need to. All the books say I have to get used to curtailing privileges right off the bat.” She squared her shoulders. “So here I go.”
“Oh my God, oh my God,” Rachel whispered. Kurt’s cheek was turning red now, and the blood from his lip trickled down his chin.
“Rachel, you can have something to eat now. If Kurt’s calmed down by the time you’re done, he can too.”
Rachel wasn’t sure what she’d expected Kurt to do; he was as bound and helpless as she was. But he was taller and a boy and she’d just thought - that he’d be calmer, or braver - no, that being braver would get him something other than slapped around. Instead he was stuck hunched over a few feet away while Terri fed Rachel slices of orange and praised her for being such a good girl, and Rachel considered biting her hand but didn’t.
“I know this is confusing for you,” Terri said when she’d finished, still stroking Rachel’s hair. “But everything will look a lot simpler very soon.” She straightened up and moved back to the counter. “How are we feeling now? Do you think you can contain yourself long enough to have lunch?” She looked Kurt’s way, wiping her hands clean with a tissue from a packet of hand wipes.
“I have, astonishingly, lost my appetite,” Kurt snapped.
“Kurt,” Rachel protested. “No, he’s hungry!”
“You’re being very mature, Rachel, but I need to hear that from Kurt,” Terri said.
“Come on,” Rachel whispered, as if Terri couldn’t hear. Some juice had gotten on her lip and it was starting to trickle down, echoing the blood on Kurt’s chin. It was driving her crazy.
Kurt turned toward her, brows drawn tight. He drew breath to speak, but let it out, face crumpling. He nodded. “Yes, I - I would like to eat.”
“That’s much better.” Terri beamed and started peeling another orange. She fed Kurt gingerly, and jerked her hand away a few times, but Kurt didn’t bite her either. Rachel kept thinking he would, and flashing back to the moment Terri had played with her hair - she could have gotten Terri’s wrist just then, she thought, and pictured Terri Del Monico bleeding to death on the floor of this tiny room, and then Rachel and Kurt struggling for days to escape before they succumbed to hunger, all three of their bodies discovered months later by accident. I am not going to die like this, I am going to New York and I am going to be a star, this is going to look amazing in my biography.
Terri stood and wiped her hands clean again when she was done, and Rachel realized that she was still hungry - and thirsty, actually. She had a cut on her tongue, too, and the citrus was starting to really sting. She still wanted another orange, though, just because it seemed slightly more likely to happen
“Now, I want you kids to behave,” Terri said. “I have to run to work for a few hours. Don’t waste time trying to get out, either. I’ve already tested it on an experimental subject and it’s very secure. The lengths I go to for you kids….” She grabbed some more wipes and cleaned her hands again, then bent to swipe Rachel’s mouth, finally putting a stop to that horrible itching. “I’m going to leave your gag off, because you’ve been very cooperative, and I appreciate that.” She dropped a kiss on the crown of Rachel’s head. “You,” she said more, swiping Kurt’s mouth clean as well, “have been naughty, so I am going to have to gag you again.”
“Don’t,” Rachel said. “Please, I - I want to talk to him, we’ll get lonely.”
“Aww.” Terri ripped off a piece of duct tape from the counter with a sound that made Rachel flinch. “I’m sorry, sweetie. But no, I really have to be firm about these things.”
Kurt was not especially cooperative about the duct tape; Terri hit him before it was on, and already there was a bruise forming where she’d hit him before. Rachel started crying again.
Terri stood by the door and smoothed her hair down, fishing a compact mirror out of her pocket and checking her appearance. “You two be good, and I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she said once she was satisfied that she did not look like a kidnapping psychopath. She produced a key from the same pocket and unlocked the door. Green-tinged light and fresh, hot air filtered in momentarily. Terri smiled over her shoulder at them. “Things won’t be like this for long. We’re going home.”
She took the padlock with her, and it clanked into place outside.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Kurt curled over to afford himself what privacy he could manage, and tried to think instead of panicking. It didn’t go well. He didn’t even know how long he’d been unconscious with any certainty, or where they were, or what she planned to do to them -
“Kurt,” Rachel said. “Scoot over here and help me up.”
He stared at her, wild-eyed and uncomprehending. Help her up where, and what good with it do with both of them chained, oh god chained up like this was some dungeon.
“Help me,” she said again, twisting to face him. “Help me stand up. We can find a way out while she’s gone.” Rachel’s face was smudged with tears and her eyes were red. Her hair was a wreck and she was barely dressed. She looked unutterably tiny. She did not inspire confidence. “We’re going to get out,” she said.
Kurt nodded.
“Good,” Rachel said. She smiled the way she did when Finn hurt her feelings by accident and she was trying to hide it. Kurt wanted to be home, he would even yell at Finn next time he did that instead of laughing if they just got to see Finn again. “Good. So turn… turn your back to me. I’m going to push myself up.”
This was a delicate and ridiculous operation which involved pinching the skin of Kurt’s back a lot; he was left feeling like he had carpet burn in an oddly specific line up his spine. Rachel fumbled and skidded her hands up his shirt and, probably due to pigheadedness and years of ballet, succeeded in standing upright.
The t-shirt she was wearing rode up until she was only just covered, and even then only when she stood completely still. Rachel tugged at it a few times, twisting her fingers around to manage it, but that only exposed more of her front. It’s okay, Kurt wanted to say when she started sniffling again, I’ve seen Santana wear a skirt shorter than that, except that it wouldn’t have been very funny just then.
“Don’t look,” she said, sounding petulant. “I’m just… I’ll find something.”
Kurt, avoiding Rachel’s lower half like a gentleman, still followed her progress around the room. She had to take very small steps, almost hops, but there wasn’t much room to cover. It was a trailer, Kurt realized belatedly, not a room. The counter, with a stove and microwave, took up one end. Across from the door was a tacky black pleather sofa, L-shaped to accommodate the nook it inhabited. There was another door set in a swell in the wall just beyond the sofa, and it was toward this that Rachel now hobbled. Breath hitching, she turned her back and managed to turn the knob, pulling the door out toward herself and teetering out of the way.
“It’s a bathroom,” she reported, eyes welling. “Just a bathroom. That’s all right, see, we have more…” She made her way to the next door, facing the kitchenette and shoved into the cranny left after the bathroom was accommodated. This door opened in, and Rachel almost fell over backward but rocked onto her feet in time.
Even from where he was Kurt could see that it was a bedroom, almost completely filled by the bed itself, which was bordered on both sides by the arms of a cupboard contraption allowing storage.
“There’s a window,” Rachel reported. “Hang on Kurt, there’s a window!”
Kurt gave a sob of anxious breath - Terri seemed so far gone, he wouldn’t put it past her to have forgotten to cover this one; maybe they were going to get out after all.
There was a bang, followed by a pained yelp. Kurt started rubbing his mouth frantically onto his shoulder, regardless of the blood that would get on his (already hopelessly wrinkled) cream-colored shirt; he had to get this tape off.
Rachel reappeared in the doorway. “The window is covered there too,” she said limply. “And it’s all safety glass, or plastic, I can’t - I need something to hit it with, and… if I could get my hands in front of me…” Abruptly she sat down, hard, and Kurt thought she had given up until she started rocking. Then he thought she might have snapped.
“Got it,” Rachel grunted. She had succeeded in slipping her legs through the loop of her arms. Clinging to the door, she stood up again. “I just need something to hit the windows with - or maybe the door, the real one, to outside…” She looked around, and Kurt followed her gaze, but there was nothing. The camper was bare, newly bought, still shining in the dim light. Even the cupboards lacked doors. The only sign of habitation was the grocery bag on the counter.
Rachel walked over to the bag, standing on tiptoe to peer in. “Just more oranges,” she said, choking up now. “There has to be something we can use…”
Kurt’s thighs were going numb from sitting on the floor. He shifted, trying to get his blood circulating.
“We’ll find something,” Rachel said. “Maybe in the bathroom,” and she turned to walk back.
Kurt, though uncertain how cashmere would affect the skin of his face, redoubled his efforts to get rid of the tape. He had started to peel the edge back a bit when Rachel came back.
“Don’t,” she said.
Kurt stared at her, and then went back to rubbing furiously at his shoulder.
“Don’t do that.” She came back over to sit in front of him, eyes glassy and breath coming short. “You’ll ruin the tape and she’ll be able to tell.” She reached up, fingers splayed over his face, and ripped the tape off herself.
Kurt, who when he was not being held against his will made it a strict policy never to breathe through his mouth, gasped for air as though it had been denied him. “There’s nothing in the bathroom we could use?”
“No,” Rachel said. “Not even a towel rack or a toilet lid. The door to the shower is gone.” She reached to smooth her hair out of her face and missed, wrists clanking. “I don’t think she wants to kill us, though.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to not kill us if she didn’t knock us unconscious and lock us up with chains and tape in the woods somewhere? I was doing pretty well at not being killed by her while I was free to see my family and boyfriend.”
“Oh Kurt,” Rachel said, and started crying.
“No, you’re right,” Kurt said hastily. His eyes swam, then cleared. “Rachel, you’re right. I don’t think she does want us dead.” Yet. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Our families have both called the police by now. We’re going to get out of this. She’s not a criminal mastermind, she’s Mr. Schuester’s ex. She used to work at our school. People know her. They’re going to find us.”
“Yes,” Rachel said, looking up. What makeup was left on her face was hopelessly smeared by sweat and tears, and her hair was pasted to her forehead and cheeks. “I’ve been missing for - for at least a day, I think? My dads have the police flying helicopters by now.”
“I was supposed to be home last night, I think. My dad and Carole have put out an Amber Alert. This can’t last much longer.”
Rachel nodded, jaw setting. She settled onto her heels, peering into his eyes. “I want you to promise me something,” she said.
“You’ve got it, princess.” Kurt wiggled his fingers, the extent of his abilities. “What could you possibly ask that is beyond my power?”
“I mean it. You have to say this.”
“Oh, fine. What is it?”
“Promise me that we’re going to do whatever it takes to survive this.” Rachel glared. “I am not dying in here, and you aren’t either. We’re going back to school when it starts up, and we’re going to Julliard, and we’re going to have an apartment in New York, and I’m going to be your best man at your wedding. Promise me.”
“Well… you might have to duke it out with Mercedes…”
“Anything,” she repeated. She leaned closer, eyes suddenly huge, filling his field of vision. Her fingernails, ragged at the edges and paint chipped, dug into his knees. “We’re going to do whatever it takes. Aren’t we, Kurt. Promise.”
Kurt swallowed. “I promise.”
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Rachel hadn’t been able to shave her legs in nearly a week, and this was suddenly bothering her.
“Your legs?” Kurt scoffed. “How do you think I feel? My face is staging a revolt, and in the near future I may well look like a backwoodsman.”
“Oh, Kurt, everyone knows you don’t even shave yet.” Rachel rubbed her legs together, wincing at the rasp of it. “I, on the other hand, occasionally shave twice in one day. I don’t think I can stand to be rescued in this state. The pictures that would go down for posterity? Ugh, I shudder to think.”
“You can have them professionally photoshopped for your unauthorized autobiography,” Kurt said. “And I do have to shave. Just not very often.”
Rachel, who was lying on her side on the bed, propped herself up on both elbows, narrowly avoiding slipping and landing flat on her back when she failed to compensate for her hands being bound behind her back. “Let me see.”
“What, my face? You’ve been looking at it for days. And nothing else.” This was not strictly true, as the shirts really were too short and there was only so much discretion they could practice without full mobility, but she knew what he meant. In between the bouts of terror, the boredom was stifling.
“I still want to see.” Kurt, who had been lying with his back to her, sighed and rolled over. Rachel bent over him. “I can see a little stubble,” she conceded.
“There’s no need to sound disappointed. Think how much entertainment it will provide you with in the coming weeks.”
Rachel moaned and flopped back, tugging at her shirt when the motion exposed too much of her to the air. “When we get out of here, the first thing I’m going to do - after I kiss my two gay dads and have a long bath followed by a hot shower - then the first thing I’m going to do is watch Funny Girl. Three times, and Finn is going to sing along with me or so help me God. And I’m going to eat scrambled tofu with various combinations of exotic spices until I throw up.”
“Amen.” Kurt paused. “Not tofu, though. I am craving meat. Maybe a lean steak, even. Not my usual, but…”
“What will you watch?”
“I’ll be too busy catching up on every fashion blog and magazine I’ve missed. After that, though… I’m going to lie in bed with Blaine for a full day watching every illegal download on my computer of the performances of Wicked.”
“My dads are going to sue her for so much.”
“They’ll have to sue her corpse. Mine will just shoot her.”
“Your dad is so awesome.”
“Yes.” He nudged her shoulder with his head. “So are yours.”
“Yeah.” Rachel’s throat closed. She wondered how long it had taken them to notice she was gone - if they had had any meetings she hadn’t known about, how many times they had tried her cell before they decided she wasn’t just busy with Finn.
“Oh, this is so sweet!”
Rachel yelped, trying to sit up and slipping back; she hadn’t heard Terri come in and oh God, if she’d heard any of that -
“I wish I could give you two a blanket,” Terri said, smiling down at them, “but I do have to take a firm tack about these things until we’re settled in.”
“It’s the thought that counts,” Kurt sighed. He sounded something less than entirely sincere.
“Don’t wallow in self-pity, sweetie, it’s not attractive. It’s very warm, anyway.” Terri patted his head. “Do you two need anything I can get you?”
“It’s been seven or eight hours since we last had a drink of water or anything to eat, so yes, that would be lovely.” Kurt ignored Rachel when she kicked him. It wasn’t true - Rachel could switch her hands to her front and then back again pretty easily by now, and Kurt had gotten the hang of it as well, so they had both gotten tap water, despite the ritualistic humiliation of having to bend over the sink in these skimpy things.
Still, maybe Kurt had a point - he kept choosing the worst way to make it, but Terri probably should be aware that she had to be more careful with their lives.
She did look stricken. “Has it really been that long?” She checked her watch and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sorry. And I’ll have to be gone even more for the next few days while I make sure everything is ready.” She frowned down at them. “All right, come here.” She patted Rachel’s foot on her way around to her side of the bed.
“What’s happening?” Rachel stood up, legs shaking a little - she didn’t feel consciously hungry, but her body was heavy and slow.
“Your brother is being a handful as usual, but he’s right.” Terri turned Rachel away from her and fiddled with her handcuffs. “I’m going to put you in charge of the food and water, all right, baby?”
“I can do that,” Rachel said, trying to sound trustworthy and helpful. The handcuffs fell away for the first time, her shoulders protesting at the change in position - and Terri grabbed her wrist, spinning her around. Her grip was punishing, and any second-long flirtation with the idea of a physical confrontation flickered out.
“There we go,” Terri said, snapping the cuffs back into place with Rachel’s hands in front. “All set.”
Rachel refused to meet Kurt’s eyes, but she could feel his stare.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Three days later, the police knocked on Terri’s door.
This was fine. She was ready and waiting. She opened up with a smile, making sure to let the door swing back toward the wall so that they could see into the apartment behind her, and allowing her smile to slip slightly as she took in their presence. She imagined that the kind of person who volunteered for a job with a gun was the kind of person who wanted to be taken seriously. Goodness, even Will wanted to be taken seriously, and the man danced around with Howard Bamboo and Sandy Ryerson in front of an audience. On purpose.
“Good afternoon, officers,” she said. “How can I help you?”
“Ms Del Monico?” said the short one.
“Yes?”
“I’m Detective Browning, and this is Officer Williams.” They flashed their badges.
“May we come inside, ma’am? We have to ask you some questions. Just routine,” said the taller one.
“Of course.” Terri stepped back, waving them in. “You’ll have to excuse the mess, I’m just about to move for my new job. I’ve been promoted to manager of a Sheets-N-Things in Florida. It’s quite a lot of responsibility.” She moved some boxes sideways along the couch, giving them just enough room to squeeze in if the short one was willing to cross his legs. “If this is about those parties the Doyles have been having at three in the morning, I would like to note that I was not the one that called them in this time, but I agree with whoever did. They’re just obnoxious.”
“I’m afraid this isn’t about the Doyles,” said Browning, who was indeed crossing his legs, albeit uncomfortably. “We need to ask you about some missing children.”
“Children? I’m sorry, I don’t have much to do with children.” She smiled. “Since I quit my nursing job, that is.”
“You do know these two young people, though, we hear,” said Williams, holding out some photographs. Rachel posed, sparkling, in a yellow skirt, and Kurt looked dreamily into the distance while clutching a glittering pen.
“Oh, Rachel Berry,” Terri said, eyes widening with recognition. “And… Carl? They came by my workplace a month or so ago.” She looked up, putting a hand to her chest. “They’re not the ones missing?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Oh.” She cleared her throat delicately and perched on the edge of a chair. “Well, I don’t mean to be insensitive, but has anyone checked the buses to New York? They’re very dramatic teenagers. Obsessed with showbiz. I blame the arts in schools, and you can quote me on that.”
“We’re exploring all possibilities at this point in the investigation,” said Browning, expressionless. “As you said, you had contact with them before their disappearance. Can you recall what you talked about?”
“Well, they came in with the Hudson boy,” Terri said, frowning at the ceiling as if it might jog her memory. “He used to work under me. They wanted to decorate a room, I think? As far as I recall, we talked about the color pink.”
Williams leaned forward. “Did they do or say anything that struck you as unusual, did you maybe see anyone who seemed suspicious around them…? Anything at all, even if it doesn’t seem important to you right now.”
“I’m sorry, it was a very ordinary conversation,” Terri said, shrugging. “They bought sheets and things. That’s what most people do at Sheets-N-Things. It didn’t stand out much.”
“Do you get many teenagers buying supplies to furnish a home in Sheets-N-Things, Ms Del Monico?” asked Browning, looking down at a pad of paper he’d produced.
“I guess not.” Terri folded her hands carefully. “But I’m pretty used to these kids pulling whacky schemes. They’re students of my ex-husband, Will Schuester. He used to come home with horror stories. I don’t think much they do could surprise me now.”
“I see,” said Browning. Terri did not like Browning, she decided. “Thank you for your time,” he added, standing up. “And good luck with your move. It seems like a hectic one.”
“Oh, no,” Terri said, standing as well and starting toward the door. “It’s all very under control. I was promoted months ago, in the spring. I’ve been getting ready ever since. I’ve already spent a few weeks in Florida, getting the house ready. I can’t wait to start over. Do things right this time, you know?”
“I do,” said Browning. “Let us know if you think of anything,” he added, handing her a card.
“I will,” Terri promised, tucking it into her pocket. “Goodbye, officers.”
“Goodbye,” said Williams just before she shut the door on them.
Terri stood in the apartment, letting the silence settle in. A car went by, sending a spot of reflected light sliding through the curtains. A pigeon cooed from a window ledge.
She walked into the bedroom. There were no boxes here. Most of the boxes in the front room were empty. It would, after all, have been unthinkable to leave anything this late when she had children to think of, but appearances were everything.
The bedroom was completely bare, and Terri settled onto the floor before producing her cell phone and scrolling through her contacts. She was directed to voicemail, so she hung up and called again.
“Terri,” Will said when he picked up - but he did pick up. “This really isn’t the best time.”
For a moment she didn’t speak, letting his voice settle back into her. It had been so long. “I just heard,” she said finally. “I’m so sorry, Will, you must be frantic. I know how much those kids mean to you.”
“Yeah, I - I don’t know… I’m sure they’ll find them soon.” She could just see him looking around the room as if he might have forgotten a note detailing the kids’ exact whereabouts on a coffee table somewhere, running a hand through his hair and mussing it, those lost little nervous habits.
“The police just left. They thought I might know something since I’ve met Kurt and Rachel, which makes me think they’re getting a little desperate.”
“They have a lot of evidence,” Will said mechanically. “I’m sure something will turn up soon. Look, I really have to go. Emma and I are going over to the Hummels’ to see if there’s anything we can do.”
“Okay,” she said very brightly. “Good luck. I hope you can make them feel better about the loss of their only children with a little apple pie and an aggressively clean sink.” She hung up, feeling significantly less guilty about causing Will so much pain. It was unfortunate, but really, he’d brought this on them all by being so ridiculous, and if he was going to throw his pet marmoset into casual conversation this way, it was just as well. They could stew in their anxiety and blind fear for a while, and let that eat away at their joke of a relationship. Terri had other things to take care of.
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For example, this: “Oh, you’ll thank me all right,” Kendra said, handing her a brightly wrapped package with a white bow crinkled on top.
“Kendra! You’re spoiling me,” Terri protested, tearing the top off anyway. She stopped, dismayed, at the sight. “Oh, goodness. You don’t really think I’ll need this? They’ve been so good this far, and I’ve been managing very well.”
“They haven’t been that good,” Kendra scoffed. “And from what you’ve told me about them, I can tell you right now, Kurt’s going to be a handful right to your face, and that bitch Rachel is going to stab you in the back. What you need to do is make some pre-emptive strikes, and by strike, I mean fear, and I mean into their hearts.” She snapped her gum and tapped the box with a lacquered fingernail. “This’ll do the trick.”
Terri nodded. She really didn’t like these things, but if Kendra thought so… “I guess it couldn’t hurt to have it on me, just in case.”
“You’ll use it,” Kendra assured her. “I know you think you’re hot stuff after you got the trailer and house all ready and they worked on that girl, but you’ll get some use out of this thing, trust me, Ter.”
Terri stared down, vision blurring. “I can’t believe I’ll be living so far away.”
“Oh, baby!” Kendra leaned over and pulled her into a hug, although it took two tries; she was probably a little tipsy. She was well into an afternoon of watching her terrors. “I’ll call you every single day.” She burst into tears, which also might have a little to do with being tipsy.
“I know you will.” Terri patted her back and tried not to break down herself, voice scratching past the lump in her throat. “Just don’t forget what we discussed about email. They can track those things.”
“I’ll visit,” Kendra said indistinctly. “Since we can’t do pictures.”
“Oh, you have to! Without Phil or the kids. God knows you deserve the rest.”
“I promise.” Kendra sat back. “You’ll call when you get there?”
“The very second.”
“You should call while you’re on the road, too. I can help keep you awake. You’re looking at two days of driving with no one to talk to, just because those ungrateful brats aren’t ready to keep you company.” Kendra pulled out a compact mirror and started reapplying her mascara.
“This is all very new for them,” Terri said. “Don’t be mean. I think mothers should be forgiving, don’t you?”
“You’ll be able to afford it, with that little beauty.” Kendra patted her hand. “Just don’t forget to load it. An empty threat does no one any favors.”
Terri started crying in earnest. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
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“Kids!” Terri made sure to re-lock the door behind her and tuck the key on its durable chain well into her bra before looking for them. They had started moving around the camper over the last few days, which was good, since it was important that they make themselves comfortable for the long drive ahead. They had also, thank God, made use of the shower; they had been getting a little ripe, but once she left them a few bars of soap and a baggie of shampoo, that had been cleared right up. She even understood Kurt’s protestations about the limited number of ingredients he allowed anywhere near his face, and had promised him a battalion of his favorite lotions and soaps as soon as they got home.
“In here,” Rachel called. Terri followed her voice into the bedroom, albeit slowly and with her eyes peeled; she wouldn’t put it past them to have some sort of trap set up, still.
Not today, apparently. They were seated on the bed, hands intertwined - she had allowed Rachel to switch Kurt’s hands around to front as well when Kurt had begged very nicely, pointing out that there were basic necessities he was having trouble attending to, and anyway there was only so long a seventeen-year-old gay boy could go eating from a girl’s hands. She had, however, made a point of being across the room while the switch took place. “Hi, babies. What are you up to?”
“We’re playing thumb war,” Kurt said. “Thumb war, Terri. Seriously, you have to get us some books or something.”
“We’ll see.” She couldn’t think of any wholesome literature for young adults off the top of her head, but she could always swing by the bookstore on the way out of town. “You’re not getting anywhere by using my first name, though, young man. You’re going to have to do a lot better than that. Now, I need you two to lie down. We’re about to start our trip.”
“Now?” Rachel looked over at Kurt. “Where are we going?”
“I already told you. We’re going home. I put a lot of effort into getting it ready for us. We’re going to be very happy there.”
“No.” Rachel stood up, teetered for a moment, and regained her balance, Kurt scrambling up beside her. “Terri, we’ve talked this over between ourselves, and we think you’re making a huge mistake. You could get in a lot of trouble for this if you don’t let us go right now. Kurt and I can’t go anywhere with you. We have lives here, and plans - we have families here. You have to let us -”
“I really hoped you wouldn’t push me to this,” Terri sighed, pulling her gun. “Kendra told me I’d thank her, though, and she was right again.”
Rachel shrieked and sat down very suddenly. Kurt followed her more slowly.
“And I just spoke to your brother about using my first name that way. It’s disrespectful and I won’t stand for it.”
“Ms Del Monico,” Rachel said quickly.
Terri lowered the gun slightly. “That’s not what I want to hear.”
“I’m sorry,” Rachel said.
“I’m sure you are. We’re going to have to work on this.” She reached back into her purse and produced two hypodermic needles. “But right now I don’t have time to argue with you kids. I need you to lie back and relax. Remember, I am a nurse. And by the time you wake up, everything will be perfectly all right. We’ll be home.”
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Next part...
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Master List
Warnings: Kidnapping, violence, ableism, homophobia, physical abuse by a caretaker, a smidgen of Stockholm's, serious injury, tertiary character death.
Rating: R
Word Count: Whole fic: 52, 000; Part 1: 13, 520
Disclaimer: RIB and FOX own everything ever.
Beta: rdm-ation
1A | 1B | 2A | 2B | 3A | 3B | 3C
This prompt. If Will wants a family, Terri will give him a family. And if he wants his precious glee kids - two birds, one stone.
Rachel was aware, once in a while, of fuzzy things. They touched her hair or played with her clothes; once they swam above her and she could see them, dark yellow and blue. Usually she heard them. They would slither up to audible level and waver there before subsiding again. “Sweet girl,” they said, and “Don’t leave the key there,”, and “I need a gin and tonic almost as badly as I need to pee.” Once it was, “No, I want to put them together; they’ll be scared, and a brother should take care of his sister,” and she had wanted very badly to explain that she was an only child, that this was one of her most grievous sorrows, and so she had no brother. Then she wondered why she was assuming she was the sister in question and things went away again.
Sometimes, there was humming.
The first time she woke up, it was to a set of increasingly alarming circumstances. Her mouth was dry, her head was pounding, and she was cold. Her left arm was asleep, and her hands were trapped behind her back. This was due to what she could only assume was a pair of handcuffs, especially given that her ankles were similarly bound and she could, if she craned her neck, see those ones.
She was cold because she was lying on a linoleum floor wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt. It wasn’t much shorter on her than some of her smaller skirts, she told herself. That thought did not help.
There was something over her mouth. She screamed anyway, and it sounded small even inside her own head.
It did, apparently, reach Kurt, who stirred. She hadn’t noticed him until he moved. He was in the exact same position - chained, gagged with duct tape, barefoot, and barely decent in someone else’s old t-shirt.
Rachel started crying.
“Oh, no,” someone cooed, and a hand smoothed her hair away from her cheek. It was soft and smelled of a lotion she’d used herself a few times, almonds and cherries. “Rachel, you’ll get all swollen. Shhh, you’re fine.” Terri Del Monico moved slowly into view, crouched beside them on the floor. “Does anything hurt, sweetie?”
Rachel had read about kidnappings, and seen programs about them on TV, only some of them fictional. She tried to think of tips, but everything was jumbled together in her head - establish a rapport, tell them your name, avoid seeing their face, don’t give up your gun - and it didn’t matter because all she managed to do was cry harder.
“I asked you a question,” Terri said. “I want a yes or no answer. Does anything hurt?”
Rachel nodded, frantic and thoughtless in equal parts.
“What is it?” Terri sounded mildly put out. “You really shouldn’t be in pain. I’ll string that horrible man up by his imported shoelaces if he lied to me about these drugs. Where does it hurt?”
Rachel managed to flop over onto her back, crushing her hands and exposing most of the leg the shirt had covered, and to nod toward her left arm. Waves of numbness, prickles, and outright pain chased each other down in its length with her change in position.
“I left you too long,” Terri said, putting a hand to her temple. “I’d forget my own head if it weren’t attached! Can you believe I’d be this silly?” She put her hands under Rachel’s shoulders and heaved her up into a sitting position. Rachel, lower body entirely exposed, hunched over, still crying; Terri ignored this and started gently massaging feeling into her arm.
Kurt jerked, eyes opening completely, and made a strangled sound behind the tape.
“Hush, now, you need to set an example for Rachel, sweetheart,” Terri said. Keeping one hand in motion on Rachel’s increasingly painful arm, she reached out with the other to touch Kurt’s forehead. He twitched away, falling onto his back and choking when he landed on his twisted hands.
Rachel let her head drop onto her knees, pressing against her eyes until electric green stars exploded against the black. Baby, you’re a firework, she thought.
She looked back up when Terri moved away. She was pulling Kurt up to sit with his back against her, probably because he was taking this worse - or more violently - than Rachel had and was thrashing wildly.
“Hey, now,” Terri said, fastening her hand in Kurt’s hair and yanking his head back. “Don’t scare your sister. You’re both fine, don’t get hysterical.” She patted his shoulder before wrapping her arm around him, holding him still.
Rachel looked around; Terri was distracted, maybe she could get out (and send help, Kurt would make it until help got there) - but there was a closed padlock on the only door she could see in the cramped space. There were several windows - a small one to the right, a long one with smaller ones beside it to the left - but there was something blocking most of the light from the outside and she’d never be able to get out of them in time.
“If both of you will calm down,” Terri said, “I can give you some food. You kids must be starving.” She pinched Kurt’s cheek. “How about that? Can you both take deep breaths and calm down enough for me to take your gags off?”
Rachel nodded desperately, already getting ready, taking deep breath in preparation for screaming loudly enough to burst any nearby eardrums. Kurt stilled reluctantly, eyes darting to meet Rachel’s, before nodding as well.
“Good.” Terri smiled, sliding away from Kurt and standing. “Hold still, sweetie.” She gave a moue of apology. “This is going to hurt.” She ripped the duct tape off in one motion before leaning over and doing the same to Rachel.
“Ow,” Rachel said, and then looked at Kurt, and together they screamed.
“Oh my God,” Terri mouthed, jumping back and clapping her hands over her ears.
Rachel’s scream tore out of her, ripping her throat on the way. It was probably the loudest she’d ever been, and that was saying something. She could barely hear Kurt over the echo of herself in her head, but from what she could tell he was hitting an even higher note than she was. And they both had excellent lungpower.
She outlasted Kurt by a fraction of a second, leaving them both panting.
Terri sighed. “Are you two done? Really, what is wrong with you? Why would I park this in a residential area before you’re used to how things are? I promise you both: There is no one to hear you scream.”
“Why are you doing this?” Kurt said. “What are you doing? Neither of our parents are rich -”
Terri slapped him.
Rachel screamed and then went silent. Kurt’s cheek slowly turned white.
“Sorry,” Terri said. “That was an overreaction. I’m under a lot of stress right now, sweetheart. You’re going to have to be more helpful than this, okay?” She straightened her sleeves in brief, sharp gestures. “But you didn’t know the rule, so that was unfair of me.” She raised an eyebrow, shaking a cautionary finger at them. “No more talking about those people, do you understand me?”
“What people? Our - our parents? You can’t be serious. My dad needs me at home, his heart - he’s sick.”
“Kurt,” Terri said. “What did I just tell you?”
Kurt’s jaw set. “Not to talk about the man who raised me and loves me and who could very well have a serious relapse if he has to worry about whether I’m dead or alive? You mean that?”
Terri sighed. “I see,” she said, and hit him again. Harder. Kurt crumpled back onto the floor, lip bleeding. “This is hard on all of us, Kurt, and you could stand to be a little more considerate.”
“Okay,” Rachel said. “We’ll stop. He’ll stop now. Won’t you stop, Kurt?”
“Now, look, if your sister can be perfectly reasonable about this, I expect no less from you.” Terri shook her head. “This is going to be a tough transition, so I need you both one hundred percent on board with me.” She walked out of kicking range and helped Kurt back up, until he was sitting. “I want you both to remember that the lack of gags, the shirts, the food…” she reached into a paper bag on the counter, producing an orange. “These are all privileges, and I am willing to take them away if I need to. All the books say I have to get used to curtailing privileges right off the bat.” She squared her shoulders. “So here I go.”
“Oh my God, oh my God,” Rachel whispered. Kurt’s cheek was turning red now, and the blood from his lip trickled down his chin.
“Rachel, you can have something to eat now. If Kurt’s calmed down by the time you’re done, he can too.”
Rachel wasn’t sure what she’d expected Kurt to do; he was as bound and helpless as she was. But he was taller and a boy and she’d just thought - that he’d be calmer, or braver - no, that being braver would get him something other than slapped around. Instead he was stuck hunched over a few feet away while Terri fed Rachel slices of orange and praised her for being such a good girl, and Rachel considered biting her hand but didn’t.
“I know this is confusing for you,” Terri said when she’d finished, still stroking Rachel’s hair. “But everything will look a lot simpler very soon.” She straightened up and moved back to the counter. “How are we feeling now? Do you think you can contain yourself long enough to have lunch?” She looked Kurt’s way, wiping her hands clean with a tissue from a packet of hand wipes.
“I have, astonishingly, lost my appetite,” Kurt snapped.
“Kurt,” Rachel protested. “No, he’s hungry!”
“You’re being very mature, Rachel, but I need to hear that from Kurt,” Terri said.
“Come on,” Rachel whispered, as if Terri couldn’t hear. Some juice had gotten on her lip and it was starting to trickle down, echoing the blood on Kurt’s chin. It was driving her crazy.
Kurt turned toward her, brows drawn tight. He drew breath to speak, but let it out, face crumpling. He nodded. “Yes, I - I would like to eat.”
“That’s much better.” Terri beamed and started peeling another orange. She fed Kurt gingerly, and jerked her hand away a few times, but Kurt didn’t bite her either. Rachel kept thinking he would, and flashing back to the moment Terri had played with her hair - she could have gotten Terri’s wrist just then, she thought, and pictured Terri Del Monico bleeding to death on the floor of this tiny room, and then Rachel and Kurt struggling for days to escape before they succumbed to hunger, all three of their bodies discovered months later by accident. I am not going to die like this, I am going to New York and I am going to be a star, this is going to look amazing in my biography.
Terri stood and wiped her hands clean again when she was done, and Rachel realized that she was still hungry - and thirsty, actually. She had a cut on her tongue, too, and the citrus was starting to really sting. She still wanted another orange, though, just because it seemed slightly more likely to happen
“Now, I want you kids to behave,” Terri said. “I have to run to work for a few hours. Don’t waste time trying to get out, either. I’ve already tested it on an experimental subject and it’s very secure. The lengths I go to for you kids….” She grabbed some more wipes and cleaned her hands again, then bent to swipe Rachel’s mouth, finally putting a stop to that horrible itching. “I’m going to leave your gag off, because you’ve been very cooperative, and I appreciate that.” She dropped a kiss on the crown of Rachel’s head. “You,” she said more, swiping Kurt’s mouth clean as well, “have been naughty, so I am going to have to gag you again.”
“Don’t,” Rachel said. “Please, I - I want to talk to him, we’ll get lonely.”
“Aww.” Terri ripped off a piece of duct tape from the counter with a sound that made Rachel flinch. “I’m sorry, sweetie. But no, I really have to be firm about these things.”
Kurt was not especially cooperative about the duct tape; Terri hit him before it was on, and already there was a bruise forming where she’d hit him before. Rachel started crying again.
Terri stood by the door and smoothed her hair down, fishing a compact mirror out of her pocket and checking her appearance. “You two be good, and I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she said once she was satisfied that she did not look like a kidnapping psychopath. She produced a key from the same pocket and unlocked the door. Green-tinged light and fresh, hot air filtered in momentarily. Terri smiled over her shoulder at them. “Things won’t be like this for long. We’re going home.”
She took the padlock with her, and it clanked into place outside.
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Kurt curled over to afford himself what privacy he could manage, and tried to think instead of panicking. It didn’t go well. He didn’t even know how long he’d been unconscious with any certainty, or where they were, or what she planned to do to them -
“Kurt,” Rachel said. “Scoot over here and help me up.”
He stared at her, wild-eyed and uncomprehending. Help her up where, and what good with it do with both of them chained, oh god chained up like this was some dungeon.
“Help me,” she said again, twisting to face him. “Help me stand up. We can find a way out while she’s gone.” Rachel’s face was smudged with tears and her eyes were red. Her hair was a wreck and she was barely dressed. She looked unutterably tiny. She did not inspire confidence. “We’re going to get out,” she said.
Kurt nodded.
“Good,” Rachel said. She smiled the way she did when Finn hurt her feelings by accident and she was trying to hide it. Kurt wanted to be home, he would even yell at Finn next time he did that instead of laughing if they just got to see Finn again. “Good. So turn… turn your back to me. I’m going to push myself up.”
This was a delicate and ridiculous operation which involved pinching the skin of Kurt’s back a lot; he was left feeling like he had carpet burn in an oddly specific line up his spine. Rachel fumbled and skidded her hands up his shirt and, probably due to pigheadedness and years of ballet, succeeded in standing upright.
The t-shirt she was wearing rode up until she was only just covered, and even then only when she stood completely still. Rachel tugged at it a few times, twisting her fingers around to manage it, but that only exposed more of her front. It’s okay, Kurt wanted to say when she started sniffling again, I’ve seen Santana wear a skirt shorter than that, except that it wouldn’t have been very funny just then.
“Don’t look,” she said, sounding petulant. “I’m just… I’ll find something.”
Kurt, avoiding Rachel’s lower half like a gentleman, still followed her progress around the room. She had to take very small steps, almost hops, but there wasn’t much room to cover. It was a trailer, Kurt realized belatedly, not a room. The counter, with a stove and microwave, took up one end. Across from the door was a tacky black pleather sofa, L-shaped to accommodate the nook it inhabited. There was another door set in a swell in the wall just beyond the sofa, and it was toward this that Rachel now hobbled. Breath hitching, she turned her back and managed to turn the knob, pulling the door out toward herself and teetering out of the way.
“It’s a bathroom,” she reported, eyes welling. “Just a bathroom. That’s all right, see, we have more…” She made her way to the next door, facing the kitchenette and shoved into the cranny left after the bathroom was accommodated. This door opened in, and Rachel almost fell over backward but rocked onto her feet in time.
Even from where he was Kurt could see that it was a bedroom, almost completely filled by the bed itself, which was bordered on both sides by the arms of a cupboard contraption allowing storage.
“There’s a window,” Rachel reported. “Hang on Kurt, there’s a window!”
Kurt gave a sob of anxious breath - Terri seemed so far gone, he wouldn’t put it past her to have forgotten to cover this one; maybe they were going to get out after all.
There was a bang, followed by a pained yelp. Kurt started rubbing his mouth frantically onto his shoulder, regardless of the blood that would get on his (already hopelessly wrinkled) cream-colored shirt; he had to get this tape off.
Rachel reappeared in the doorway. “The window is covered there too,” she said limply. “And it’s all safety glass, or plastic, I can’t - I need something to hit it with, and… if I could get my hands in front of me…” Abruptly she sat down, hard, and Kurt thought she had given up until she started rocking. Then he thought she might have snapped.
“Got it,” Rachel grunted. She had succeeded in slipping her legs through the loop of her arms. Clinging to the door, she stood up again. “I just need something to hit the windows with - or maybe the door, the real one, to outside…” She looked around, and Kurt followed her gaze, but there was nothing. The camper was bare, newly bought, still shining in the dim light. Even the cupboards lacked doors. The only sign of habitation was the grocery bag on the counter.
Rachel walked over to the bag, standing on tiptoe to peer in. “Just more oranges,” she said, choking up now. “There has to be something we can use…”
Kurt’s thighs were going numb from sitting on the floor. He shifted, trying to get his blood circulating.
“We’ll find something,” Rachel said. “Maybe in the bathroom,” and she turned to walk back.
Kurt, though uncertain how cashmere would affect the skin of his face, redoubled his efforts to get rid of the tape. He had started to peel the edge back a bit when Rachel came back.
“Don’t,” she said.
Kurt stared at her, and then went back to rubbing furiously at his shoulder.
“Don’t do that.” She came back over to sit in front of him, eyes glassy and breath coming short. “You’ll ruin the tape and she’ll be able to tell.” She reached up, fingers splayed over his face, and ripped the tape off herself.
Kurt, who when he was not being held against his will made it a strict policy never to breathe through his mouth, gasped for air as though it had been denied him. “There’s nothing in the bathroom we could use?”
“No,” Rachel said. “Not even a towel rack or a toilet lid. The door to the shower is gone.” She reached to smooth her hair out of her face and missed, wrists clanking. “I don’t think she wants to kill us, though.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to not kill us if she didn’t knock us unconscious and lock us up with chains and tape in the woods somewhere? I was doing pretty well at not being killed by her while I was free to see my family and boyfriend.”
“Oh Kurt,” Rachel said, and started crying.
“No, you’re right,” Kurt said hastily. His eyes swam, then cleared. “Rachel, you’re right. I don’t think she does want us dead.” Yet. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Our families have both called the police by now. We’re going to get out of this. She’s not a criminal mastermind, she’s Mr. Schuester’s ex. She used to work at our school. People know her. They’re going to find us.”
“Yes,” Rachel said, looking up. What makeup was left on her face was hopelessly smeared by sweat and tears, and her hair was pasted to her forehead and cheeks. “I’ve been missing for - for at least a day, I think? My dads have the police flying helicopters by now.”
“I was supposed to be home last night, I think. My dad and Carole have put out an Amber Alert. This can’t last much longer.”
Rachel nodded, jaw setting. She settled onto her heels, peering into his eyes. “I want you to promise me something,” she said.
“You’ve got it, princess.” Kurt wiggled his fingers, the extent of his abilities. “What could you possibly ask that is beyond my power?”
“I mean it. You have to say this.”
“Oh, fine. What is it?”
“Promise me that we’re going to do whatever it takes to survive this.” Rachel glared. “I am not dying in here, and you aren’t either. We’re going back to school when it starts up, and we’re going to Julliard, and we’re going to have an apartment in New York, and I’m going to be your best man at your wedding. Promise me.”
“Well… you might have to duke it out with Mercedes…”
“Anything,” she repeated. She leaned closer, eyes suddenly huge, filling his field of vision. Her fingernails, ragged at the edges and paint chipped, dug into his knees. “We’re going to do whatever it takes. Aren’t we, Kurt. Promise.”
Kurt swallowed. “I promise.”
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Rachel hadn’t been able to shave her legs in nearly a week, and this was suddenly bothering her.
“Your legs?” Kurt scoffed. “How do you think I feel? My face is staging a revolt, and in the near future I may well look like a backwoodsman.”
“Oh, Kurt, everyone knows you don’t even shave yet.” Rachel rubbed her legs together, wincing at the rasp of it. “I, on the other hand, occasionally shave twice in one day. I don’t think I can stand to be rescued in this state. The pictures that would go down for posterity? Ugh, I shudder to think.”
“You can have them professionally photoshopped for your unauthorized autobiography,” Kurt said. “And I do have to shave. Just not very often.”
Rachel, who was lying on her side on the bed, propped herself up on both elbows, narrowly avoiding slipping and landing flat on her back when she failed to compensate for her hands being bound behind her back. “Let me see.”
“What, my face? You’ve been looking at it for days. And nothing else.” This was not strictly true, as the shirts really were too short and there was only so much discretion they could practice without full mobility, but she knew what he meant. In between the bouts of terror, the boredom was stifling.
“I still want to see.” Kurt, who had been lying with his back to her, sighed and rolled over. Rachel bent over him. “I can see a little stubble,” she conceded.
“There’s no need to sound disappointed. Think how much entertainment it will provide you with in the coming weeks.”
Rachel moaned and flopped back, tugging at her shirt when the motion exposed too much of her to the air. “When we get out of here, the first thing I’m going to do - after I kiss my two gay dads and have a long bath followed by a hot shower - then the first thing I’m going to do is watch Funny Girl. Three times, and Finn is going to sing along with me or so help me God. And I’m going to eat scrambled tofu with various combinations of exotic spices until I throw up.”
“Amen.” Kurt paused. “Not tofu, though. I am craving meat. Maybe a lean steak, even. Not my usual, but…”
“What will you watch?”
“I’ll be too busy catching up on every fashion blog and magazine I’ve missed. After that, though… I’m going to lie in bed with Blaine for a full day watching every illegal download on my computer of the performances of Wicked.”
“My dads are going to sue her for so much.”
“They’ll have to sue her corpse. Mine will just shoot her.”
“Your dad is so awesome.”
“Yes.” He nudged her shoulder with his head. “So are yours.”
“Yeah.” Rachel’s throat closed. She wondered how long it had taken them to notice she was gone - if they had had any meetings she hadn’t known about, how many times they had tried her cell before they decided she wasn’t just busy with Finn.
“Oh, this is so sweet!”
Rachel yelped, trying to sit up and slipping back; she hadn’t heard Terri come in and oh God, if she’d heard any of that -
“I wish I could give you two a blanket,” Terri said, smiling down at them, “but I do have to take a firm tack about these things until we’re settled in.”
“It’s the thought that counts,” Kurt sighed. He sounded something less than entirely sincere.
“Don’t wallow in self-pity, sweetie, it’s not attractive. It’s very warm, anyway.” Terri patted his head. “Do you two need anything I can get you?”
“It’s been seven or eight hours since we last had a drink of water or anything to eat, so yes, that would be lovely.” Kurt ignored Rachel when she kicked him. It wasn’t true - Rachel could switch her hands to her front and then back again pretty easily by now, and Kurt had gotten the hang of it as well, so they had both gotten tap water, despite the ritualistic humiliation of having to bend over the sink in these skimpy things.
Still, maybe Kurt had a point - he kept choosing the worst way to make it, but Terri probably should be aware that she had to be more careful with their lives.
She did look stricken. “Has it really been that long?” She checked her watch and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sorry. And I’ll have to be gone even more for the next few days while I make sure everything is ready.” She frowned down at them. “All right, come here.” She patted Rachel’s foot on her way around to her side of the bed.
“What’s happening?” Rachel stood up, legs shaking a little - she didn’t feel consciously hungry, but her body was heavy and slow.
“Your brother is being a handful as usual, but he’s right.” Terri turned Rachel away from her and fiddled with her handcuffs. “I’m going to put you in charge of the food and water, all right, baby?”
“I can do that,” Rachel said, trying to sound trustworthy and helpful. The handcuffs fell away for the first time, her shoulders protesting at the change in position - and Terri grabbed her wrist, spinning her around. Her grip was punishing, and any second-long flirtation with the idea of a physical confrontation flickered out.
“There we go,” Terri said, snapping the cuffs back into place with Rachel’s hands in front. “All set.”
Rachel refused to meet Kurt’s eyes, but she could feel his stare.
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Three days later, the police knocked on Terri’s door.
This was fine. She was ready and waiting. She opened up with a smile, making sure to let the door swing back toward the wall so that they could see into the apartment behind her, and allowing her smile to slip slightly as she took in their presence. She imagined that the kind of person who volunteered for a job with a gun was the kind of person who wanted to be taken seriously. Goodness, even Will wanted to be taken seriously, and the man danced around with Howard Bamboo and Sandy Ryerson in front of an audience. On purpose.
“Good afternoon, officers,” she said. “How can I help you?”
“Ms Del Monico?” said the short one.
“Yes?”
“I’m Detective Browning, and this is Officer Williams.” They flashed their badges.
“May we come inside, ma’am? We have to ask you some questions. Just routine,” said the taller one.
“Of course.” Terri stepped back, waving them in. “You’ll have to excuse the mess, I’m just about to move for my new job. I’ve been promoted to manager of a Sheets-N-Things in Florida. It’s quite a lot of responsibility.” She moved some boxes sideways along the couch, giving them just enough room to squeeze in if the short one was willing to cross his legs. “If this is about those parties the Doyles have been having at three in the morning, I would like to note that I was not the one that called them in this time, but I agree with whoever did. They’re just obnoxious.”
“I’m afraid this isn’t about the Doyles,” said Browning, who was indeed crossing his legs, albeit uncomfortably. “We need to ask you about some missing children.”
“Children? I’m sorry, I don’t have much to do with children.” She smiled. “Since I quit my nursing job, that is.”
“You do know these two young people, though, we hear,” said Williams, holding out some photographs. Rachel posed, sparkling, in a yellow skirt, and Kurt looked dreamily into the distance while clutching a glittering pen.
“Oh, Rachel Berry,” Terri said, eyes widening with recognition. “And… Carl? They came by my workplace a month or so ago.” She looked up, putting a hand to her chest. “They’re not the ones missing?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Oh.” She cleared her throat delicately and perched on the edge of a chair. “Well, I don’t mean to be insensitive, but has anyone checked the buses to New York? They’re very dramatic teenagers. Obsessed with showbiz. I blame the arts in schools, and you can quote me on that.”
“We’re exploring all possibilities at this point in the investigation,” said Browning, expressionless. “As you said, you had contact with them before their disappearance. Can you recall what you talked about?”
“Well, they came in with the Hudson boy,” Terri said, frowning at the ceiling as if it might jog her memory. “He used to work under me. They wanted to decorate a room, I think? As far as I recall, we talked about the color pink.”
Williams leaned forward. “Did they do or say anything that struck you as unusual, did you maybe see anyone who seemed suspicious around them…? Anything at all, even if it doesn’t seem important to you right now.”
“I’m sorry, it was a very ordinary conversation,” Terri said, shrugging. “They bought sheets and things. That’s what most people do at Sheets-N-Things. It didn’t stand out much.”
“Do you get many teenagers buying supplies to furnish a home in Sheets-N-Things, Ms Del Monico?” asked Browning, looking down at a pad of paper he’d produced.
“I guess not.” Terri folded her hands carefully. “But I’m pretty used to these kids pulling whacky schemes. They’re students of my ex-husband, Will Schuester. He used to come home with horror stories. I don’t think much they do could surprise me now.”
“I see,” said Browning. Terri did not like Browning, she decided. “Thank you for your time,” he added, standing up. “And good luck with your move. It seems like a hectic one.”
“Oh, no,” Terri said, standing as well and starting toward the door. “It’s all very under control. I was promoted months ago, in the spring. I’ve been getting ready ever since. I’ve already spent a few weeks in Florida, getting the house ready. I can’t wait to start over. Do things right this time, you know?”
“I do,” said Browning. “Let us know if you think of anything,” he added, handing her a card.
“I will,” Terri promised, tucking it into her pocket. “Goodbye, officers.”
“Goodbye,” said Williams just before she shut the door on them.
Terri stood in the apartment, letting the silence settle in. A car went by, sending a spot of reflected light sliding through the curtains. A pigeon cooed from a window ledge.
She walked into the bedroom. There were no boxes here. Most of the boxes in the front room were empty. It would, after all, have been unthinkable to leave anything this late when she had children to think of, but appearances were everything.
The bedroom was completely bare, and Terri settled onto the floor before producing her cell phone and scrolling through her contacts. She was directed to voicemail, so she hung up and called again.
“Terri,” Will said when he picked up - but he did pick up. “This really isn’t the best time.”
For a moment she didn’t speak, letting his voice settle back into her. It had been so long. “I just heard,” she said finally. “I’m so sorry, Will, you must be frantic. I know how much those kids mean to you.”
“Yeah, I - I don’t know… I’m sure they’ll find them soon.” She could just see him looking around the room as if he might have forgotten a note detailing the kids’ exact whereabouts on a coffee table somewhere, running a hand through his hair and mussing it, those lost little nervous habits.
“The police just left. They thought I might know something since I’ve met Kurt and Rachel, which makes me think they’re getting a little desperate.”
“They have a lot of evidence,” Will said mechanically. “I’m sure something will turn up soon. Look, I really have to go. Emma and I are going over to the Hummels’ to see if there’s anything we can do.”
“Okay,” she said very brightly. “Good luck. I hope you can make them feel better about the loss of their only children with a little apple pie and an aggressively clean sink.” She hung up, feeling significantly less guilty about causing Will so much pain. It was unfortunate, but really, he’d brought this on them all by being so ridiculous, and if he was going to throw his pet marmoset into casual conversation this way, it was just as well. They could stew in their anxiety and blind fear for a while, and let that eat away at their joke of a relationship. Terri had other things to take care of.
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For example, this: “Oh, you’ll thank me all right,” Kendra said, handing her a brightly wrapped package with a white bow crinkled on top.
“Kendra! You’re spoiling me,” Terri protested, tearing the top off anyway. She stopped, dismayed, at the sight. “Oh, goodness. You don’t really think I’ll need this? They’ve been so good this far, and I’ve been managing very well.”
“They haven’t been that good,” Kendra scoffed. “And from what you’ve told me about them, I can tell you right now, Kurt’s going to be a handful right to your face, and that bitch Rachel is going to stab you in the back. What you need to do is make some pre-emptive strikes, and by strike, I mean fear, and I mean into their hearts.” She snapped her gum and tapped the box with a lacquered fingernail. “This’ll do the trick.”
Terri nodded. She really didn’t like these things, but if Kendra thought so… “I guess it couldn’t hurt to have it on me, just in case.”
“You’ll use it,” Kendra assured her. “I know you think you’re hot stuff after you got the trailer and house all ready and they worked on that girl, but you’ll get some use out of this thing, trust me, Ter.”
Terri stared down, vision blurring. “I can’t believe I’ll be living so far away.”
“Oh, baby!” Kendra leaned over and pulled her into a hug, although it took two tries; she was probably a little tipsy. She was well into an afternoon of watching her terrors. “I’ll call you every single day.” She burst into tears, which also might have a little to do with being tipsy.
“I know you will.” Terri patted her back and tried not to break down herself, voice scratching past the lump in her throat. “Just don’t forget what we discussed about email. They can track those things.”
“I’ll visit,” Kendra said indistinctly. “Since we can’t do pictures.”
“Oh, you have to! Without Phil or the kids. God knows you deserve the rest.”
“I promise.” Kendra sat back. “You’ll call when you get there?”
“The very second.”
“You should call while you’re on the road, too. I can help keep you awake. You’re looking at two days of driving with no one to talk to, just because those ungrateful brats aren’t ready to keep you company.” Kendra pulled out a compact mirror and started reapplying her mascara.
“This is all very new for them,” Terri said. “Don’t be mean. I think mothers should be forgiving, don’t you?”
“You’ll be able to afford it, with that little beauty.” Kendra patted her hand. “Just don’t forget to load it. An empty threat does no one any favors.”
Terri started crying in earnest. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
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“Kids!” Terri made sure to re-lock the door behind her and tuck the key on its durable chain well into her bra before looking for them. They had started moving around the camper over the last few days, which was good, since it was important that they make themselves comfortable for the long drive ahead. They had also, thank God, made use of the shower; they had been getting a little ripe, but once she left them a few bars of soap and a baggie of shampoo, that had been cleared right up. She even understood Kurt’s protestations about the limited number of ingredients he allowed anywhere near his face, and had promised him a battalion of his favorite lotions and soaps as soon as they got home.
“In here,” Rachel called. Terri followed her voice into the bedroom, albeit slowly and with her eyes peeled; she wouldn’t put it past them to have some sort of trap set up, still.
Not today, apparently. They were seated on the bed, hands intertwined - she had allowed Rachel to switch Kurt’s hands around to front as well when Kurt had begged very nicely, pointing out that there were basic necessities he was having trouble attending to, and anyway there was only so long a seventeen-year-old gay boy could go eating from a girl’s hands. She had, however, made a point of being across the room while the switch took place. “Hi, babies. What are you up to?”
“We’re playing thumb war,” Kurt said. “Thumb war, Terri. Seriously, you have to get us some books or something.”
“We’ll see.” She couldn’t think of any wholesome literature for young adults off the top of her head, but she could always swing by the bookstore on the way out of town. “You’re not getting anywhere by using my first name, though, young man. You’re going to have to do a lot better than that. Now, I need you two to lie down. We’re about to start our trip.”
“Now?” Rachel looked over at Kurt. “Where are we going?”
“I already told you. We’re going home. I put a lot of effort into getting it ready for us. We’re going to be very happy there.”
“No.” Rachel stood up, teetered for a moment, and regained her balance, Kurt scrambling up beside her. “Terri, we’ve talked this over between ourselves, and we think you’re making a huge mistake. You could get in a lot of trouble for this if you don’t let us go right now. Kurt and I can’t go anywhere with you. We have lives here, and plans - we have families here. You have to let us -”
“I really hoped you wouldn’t push me to this,” Terri sighed, pulling her gun. “Kendra told me I’d thank her, though, and she was right again.”
Rachel shrieked and sat down very suddenly. Kurt followed her more slowly.
“And I just spoke to your brother about using my first name that way. It’s disrespectful and I won’t stand for it.”
“Ms Del Monico,” Rachel said quickly.
Terri lowered the gun slightly. “That’s not what I want to hear.”
“I’m sorry,” Rachel said.
“I’m sure you are. We’re going to have to work on this.” She reached back into her purse and produced two hypodermic needles. “But right now I don’t have time to argue with you kids. I need you to lie back and relax. Remember, I am a nurse. And by the time you wake up, everything will be perfectly all right. We’ll be home.”
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