"Are you a doctor?" Blaine asked quietly from his post.

"Yes, I am, but I'm also a detective." Turning her attention back to Kurt, she spoke softly. "Can you answer some questions for me, sweetie?" Again he replied with a nod, too ashamed to look up. "Okay," the detective said softly. "Can you tell me what happened before you left the club that night, Kurt?" Kurt thought long and hard, but all he found was fuzz. "Can you try to remember for me, Kurt?"

Kurt tried again. The flashes returned and he saw Santana and Jesse perform on stage. Kurt didn't want to stay; he wanted to leave the club and go home to Blaine.

"I saw my friends perform without me," he said quietly. Blaine, who stood quietly behind the detective, leaning back against the wall, rested his fist against his mouth. The officer from earlier asked for everyone to leave the room for the questions, but Kurt begged for Blaine to stay, stating it would be easier with him around. "They replaced me after I quit," he continued, "and I was watching them."

The detective wrote this all down. "What happened after you watched them, Kurt?"

"I headed to the back exit - the one all the performers use - and walked down the alleyway. That's when. . . ."

The room was silent for a moment. The detective leaned in close, her voice comforting. "When what, Kurt? When happened when you were walking down the alleyway?"

"These guys jumped me. They thought . . . they thought I was one of the female dancers."

"How many men were there, Kurt? Can you tell me?"

"Two. No! Three."

The detective nodded, writing it all down. "Do you remember what they looked like? Facial hair? Scars? Did they have accents or anything that would separate them from other people?"

Kurt thought about it, but his mind went black. There was nothing insignificant about the three; they were just nobodies. He shook his head. "They all had Brooklyn accents, rough ones. The leader . . . He was wearing a blue jacket and a Mets hat."

"Anything else? Do you remember if they used any names at all? Even nick names?"

Kurt went as far back as his mind could, and as light as a whisper in the dark, it came. When they were kicking and spitting on him, one of the others called the leader by his name. It was a nonchalant comment; one Kurt barely even heard. Thankfully, the name stuck with him.

"Marty." He mumbled. "The leaders name was Marty; one of the others called him that when they were finishing up." The detective smiled, looking up from her pad. "Is that it? Did I do good?"

"Yes, Kurt, you did very good." Going through her bag, the detective replaced her pad with a small briefcase type bag and placed it onto the desk beside her. The rape kit. "Okay, sweetie, here comes to hard part. I'm gonna need to check for any DNA that might still be on your body, and if any STD's were transmitted during the fight."

"They didn't touch me," he blurted out, his eyes flashing to Blaine. "Not like that."

"We still have to check, just in case. Whether you blacked out and they did or they didn't at all, we want to be one hundred percent sure, okay?" Kurt nodded, knowing there was no fighting it. This was how it was going to be. "We're gonna go top to bottom, okay? Gonna take our time. You feel uncomfortable at all, tell me, but we have to do this, okay?"

With a nod from Kurt, she went on her way. She started with his head, combing through his hair, and went down, using cotton swabs on his mouth and ears. She cleaned under his nails, and looked for finger prints on his arms and neck using a special light. Everything went into separate place bags that were all labeled. When it came time to go lower, he begged for Blaine. The detective allowed this and he came over, clutching Kurt's hand as he lied on his back, with his bottom up and legs open.

He's seen this in movies and shows, but it all involved a girl who had actually been raped, or least an attempted rape. This was just a gay bashing; one that involved homophobes that had no intention of fucking Kurt, let alone touch in there.

Blaine would whisper sweet things in his ear, telling him it would be alright and how brave he was being. Kurt had never felt so embarrassed in his entire life. He clutched his boyfriend's hand, wanting nothing more than for this to just be over and down with.

When the detective was finally finished, she thanked both men and said she'd send the doctor in. When asked about the results, she said they'd be ready in two to three days. When left alone, Blaine leaned down, kissing Kurt's head softly.

"I wanna go home." Kurt murmured wetly.

"I know, baby." Blaine said, resting his forehead against Kurt's. "I wanna go home too."

It had been a long few days, and whether they liked it or not, it would only get worse before it got better.