Missing

Five hours.

Three hundred minutes.

An immeasurable portion of time since the worst thing happened. When life as Caleb once knew it, was turned upside down. It still did not seem possible to him. Being shown into the interrogation room, he felt sick to his stomach.

Choosing a seat at the small metal table, he leaned forward and tried to recapture sensation in his frozen limbs. So much did not make sense to him, but he supposed that was to be expected after seeing what he had that night.

If he was lucky and the worst thing had not happened, he would wake up in Minnesota with his wife by his side. More importantly, he would have two of the people he was closest to beside his wife.

His mother and father.

Dan Rivers had been a veteran of the police department for the last several years. His impeccable reputation had earned him the admiration of his co-workers. To his family, he received their love for the way he modeled an example that his son was still mimicking to that day.

His mother was the polar opposite of his father, but he supposed that was what brought them together. His mother with her fiery temper, and fierce devotion to her family was what made her indispensable to him. The love she showered on him throughout his life, was a gift he never took for granted when it could have been the other way so easily.

Never one to shy away from being an active part of her son's life, she grew animated when talking about the bundle of joy he and his wife were expecting. Dawn, his wife, and him, made the conscious choice to wait until the birth to know the sex. A decision that was met with a characteristic sigh from his mother who wanted to know whether she could buy cute pink onesies for her granddaughter, or all things pirates and blue for her grandson.

Now none of it mattered. All the hours spent helping his mother and father with remodeling the spare room for the nursery had been in vain, because his parents were dead.

No!

His mind refused to allow that unthinkable thought enter his brain. It was too unfathomable for him to give conscious thought to. Cupping his hand under his chin, he tried not to think about what was impossible not to.

They were stolen from him before he was ready to give them up. They would never know their grandchild, would never know the kind of person their grandchild would grow up to be. A life that was only supposed to get better, had now been torn apart into tiny pieces.

The room was cold, but it barely fazed him through the sweat that wet his entire body. A product from not only working late, but also strolling into his parent's home to find the sight that awaited him. In most ways, he was glad he was being given a brief reprieve from having to answer yet another round of questions. That had been done at the scene, and now they wanted to speak with him some more.

Being the son of a police officer, he knew suspicion automatically began with those closest to the victims. As their son, the police would want to make sure he did not have the motive to harm them. As if he would ever harbor any malice toward his family.

Staring down at the Styrofoam cup of coffee that had been given to him before he came in, he stared at the cup before giving himself over to the need to have something go through his body. Regretting it when the caffeine tasted like dirt, he set the cup down and hooked his finger over the signet ring his father had given him.

Muffling a heart-rending sob behind his hand when his mind produced the gravity of what this all meant, he tried to direct his thoughts anywhere but on what happened. That would have been a mercy, not something that he was granted.

Looking at the clock across from him, he could not believe it was nearing midnight. He had been in this nightmare for the last few hours. Any second the detectives would walk in to interview him over the death of his parents. In many ways, he wanted to make sure the killer was brought to justice, but he was not at all up to facing the litany of questions that would follow.

When the door leading into the oppressive room was finally opened, he somehow found the courage to lift his eyes toward the two investigators. These were men he had known nearly his entire life from their dealings with his father.

Unlike the suspicion he suspected he would see when they came to speak with him, he only saw compassion in their grief-riddled eyes. Not only had his father been a well-liked member of the community, but most considered him to be their friend.

Wishing he had Dawn to provide backup with her excellent skills as a lawyer, he watched them as they took their places across from him. Neither of them bothered to put on an act when they knew each other so well.

"Caleb Rivers?"

A nod in answer. He was sure he was beyond words as he tried to suck in all the emotions that were floating through his mind. Ridding himself of them was not as easy as he would have liked to believe.

"I'm Detective Olsen. This is my partner Detective Springer."

Caleb had seen these two men around the station, but did not know them well enough to know their names or even their faces until he saw them up close. Olsen was younger, most likely a rookie. Springer was older, and sometimes worked with his father. The grief on his face was palpable, but he was doing his job and was not allowing the pain to rule his job.

Caleb wished he could have his fierce strength in dealing with the agony that resulted from finding the bodies of his parents in their home. Maybe it was a result of working in their line of work for as long as they had, or maybe they were simply good at shoving their emotions to the side.

"Hi... " Caleb choked.

"I apologize for the long wait. We had to gather witness statements from the responding officer, and some others who were there. I also," Springer said. "Apologize for your parents. Your father was a great man."

Caleb nodded. "He was. How long did you know him? Just for a little while? Or-"

"I knew him in passing," Springer filled-in. "I wish I could have known him better than that."

That was what everyone who knew his parents (or wished they knew them) said. His father was the kind of man who left a mark on everyone no matter how briefly he knew them. It was hard to imagine the kind of loss that would soar through the entire town because of something like this. Not only did the town lose a great man, but they lost an equally loving and loyal mother.

His eyes were red, sore from crying and expelling the kind of emotions that was impossible for him to control. They noticed the way Caleb tried to brush the tears away, and Olsen gently handed him some Kleenex to wipe his eyes. At least they were making this easy on him, at least they were starting with the easy questions.

"You'd be surprised at how many people say that," Caleb said. "Or maybe you wouldn't."

"I don't think we would," Olsen said, shaking his head. "He was a great man."

Hearing his father referred to in the past term was what sawed through his heart in ways that stunned him. He was not ready to give them over to the dead; he was not ready to admit that his parents were gone. There was no way that he was where he was, that his family was gone. Two lovely people who had been killed in a brutal manner.

"He really was-professionally and as a parent."

"Part of this questioning," Springer explained, deciding to jump into the heart of why they were in that room speaking with him. "Is to establish a basic timeline of what happened. Get a sense of the dynamics at play, and get a feel for the type of relationship you shared with your parents."

"I understand."

It may not have been convenient for him when he wanted to go home and tell Dawn what happened, but he was confident that he could help his father by doing what he would have. In the years he worked for law enforcement, his father always impressed upon him the importance of allowing due process to play out. As maddening as it sometimes was, he stressed how important it was to let the authorities do their job.

As much as he may have wanted to be home with his pregnant girlfriend and mourn the loss of two great people, he comforted himself with the idea that he was helping his father. Taking another sip of the nasty coffee, he tried not to let all of this seep into his subconscious like he knew it would.

"Are you the only son of Dan and Mary Rivers?" Springer asked.

"I am."

"Was it a happy relationship for the most part?"

Caleb smiled. "As happy as two parents and their kid could be. Of course we had fights when I was younger, but overall a pretty outstanding relationship."

In most ways, he considered himself blessed that he was able to tell them that. For as long as he could remember, his father strove to impress upon him the importance of having a decent amount of respect for his elders. Most of his own friends did not have those same lessons imparted on them, but Caleb was the exception.

They went through several more of the same questions, before they switched to the hard ones. The ones that directly involved Caleb in that horrific night. When they questioned him about his alibi, he tried not to become defensive when he knew they only had a job to do. The simple truth was that he had been at work, but had to leave to pick up a piece of equipment that the store neglected to get.

Seeing the looks on their faces shift from ones of being neutral, to ones of suspicion was about more than he could take. He knew the relationship he had with his family, and he was the last person who would ever do something of that nature to them. Not that his word meant much when criminals always gave the same story to cover their tracks.

Grateful when he could leave that oppressive place, he did so without hesitation.

This is the first official story in the Missing verse.