A/N: Yes, this is another multipart story. In my defense, this one already has another 230 odd pages written. So I should be able to keep up a decent posting rate at least for a while. In my undefense, it's still not finished...

A/N2: This is a happier AU of A World Where Werewolves Won, which in turn was an AU from the Matilda and the Werewolf chapter of mtc. I tried long and hard to think of a title that included werewolves and didn't sound completely cheesy but couldn't think of one. If something occurs to me - or InSilva (smiles) - I may conceivably change it. Anyway, if you have read those two stories you will know that this will contain child abuse, including sexual abuse, and pretty much everything awful that can happen to a child. In spite of that, I'd like to point out that this is actually a happier AU. Honestly.

A/N3: I hesitated for a long time before posting this fic as I felt that there were similarities to InSilva's brilliant Body and Soul verse, and I want to acknowledge that. And then, just after I finally decide that I am going to post it, Peabodythecat writes Not A Fitting Punishment and I see more similarites. Serves me rightt. :) Anyway, the point is, you should read both of those fics. Now.

A/N4: For InSilva who has read it all, since I shared the first part with her and has repeatedly said I should post it. Happy now, mate?

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Ocean's 11

Sometimes the long con really did seem to go on too long. This was the second week Saul had spent in this unremarkable town, playing the part of the benevolent business man for a mayor who was about as stupid as he was corrupt, and honestly he was sick to death of the whole thing.

There was a limit to how many stories about the golf team at Princeton a man could be reasonably expected to fabricate. Worse still, Anderson – the mayor – hadn't picked up any of his standard ploys, and he'd had to get less and less subtle. By now he was practically at the point of hitting him over the head with the notion of you-could-make-money.

It wasn't at all to his liking. And to think he normally regarded intelligence as a problematic trait in a mark. Right now, he was seriously considering the idea that this fool was too dumb to get conned.

Made him wonder about the rest of the town who had been willing to vote him into office. Twice, no less. Seemed like the sort of place no one remarkable would ever come from.

It wasn't even as though Anderson wasn't interested in his supposed money. He'd seen the greedy, covetous look at the dinner party he'd hosted in the admittedly-upmarket apartment he'd rented. Just that all his dark hints about the lucrative but shady deal he was putting together went straight over the man's head. It was depressing. One more day, he promised himself. One more day and if he couldn't hook Anderson, he'd shake the dust of this town forever.

Anderson had invited him on a tour of the government buildings, which was every bit as dull as it sounded, and he had smiled and suffered through the parks division, and the garbage collection department, and then they'd wound up passing through the ground floor of social services.

There was a boy standing at the reception desk. And, foolishly perhaps, Saul found himself watching him as Anderson talked about the department's fantastic track record with placing troubled youngsters.

"Please," the boy said with soft desperation. "Please just tell me where he is."

The woman at the counter didn't even look up from her book. "We can't disclose that information to a non relative."

The boy half turned away and Saul could see his face for the first time. He only looked to be about twelve. And no twelve year old should look that exhausted. That resigned. "That's what you always say," he said. "I'm not asking...it's been five months. I haven't heard anything. He never came back to school...he doesn't answer my letters. Please. I'm begging you. I just need to see him. I need to know he's alright."

Somehow, the woman was bored and unmoved. "I can't give out any information - "

The boy slammed his hand down on the counter. " - Haven't you ever had a friend?" he demanded shrilly, his voice breaking. "Haven't you ever cared about someone?"

The woman looked up for the first time. "Carry on like that, young man, and I'll call security," she threatened sharply, and Saul bristled slightly. He didn't know the story here, but that seemed needlessly heavy handed. And he didn't doubt she meant it.

Apparently the boy thought so too. His shoulders sagged. "Yeah," he said dully. "Sorry. Can you...can you see that this is passed onto him?" He drew an envelope out of his pocket and pushed it across the counter.

With a put upon sigh, the woman took it. "I'll pass it onto the relevant caseworker," she said dismissively.

"Sure," the boy said wearily. "Sure." He turned and made to walk away. "Same time tomorrow, I guess," he said quietly.

He trudged past Saul and Anderson, seemingly without even seeing them, and he sat down on the bench in the lobby out of sight of the woman behind the desk, his head buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking, as though he didn't expect anyone to notice, as if no one ever noticed.

He was moving before he'd even thought about it, ignoring Anderson's startled cry of "Aaron!" and a second later he was crouched in front of the boy, proffering a handkerchief.

"Hello there," he said gently.

The boy looked up sharply. "I'm not crying," he said automatically, his chin raised defiantly.

He nodded understandingly and glanced back towards the reception desk meaningfully. "Seems to me that you might have a good reason to be upset," he said mildly, still holding out the handkerchief.

Watching him warily, the boy took it and dabbed at his eyes. "Yeah," he said shortly.

"My name's Saul," he said encouragingly then, thinking of Anderson behind him quickly added "Well, my name is Aaron Saul Ezequiel Tobias Bergman. But you can call me Saul."

That drew the faintest of smiles from the boy. "Danny," he said simply. "Danny Ocean. I don't have any middle names."

"Well, Danny Ocean," he said gently, standing up and sitting on the bench beside him. "Why don't you tell me about it?"

Danny twisted around to gaze at him suspiciously. "Why do you want to know?" he asked.

Saul met his gaze evenly. "Because I want to help," he answered simply.

For a long moment Danny stared at him incredulously, brow furrowed, searching Saul's face for truth. Saul let him see it, and the way Danny's eyes widened might just be comical in other circumstances. "No one's ever wanted to help before," he said in a whisper, and Saul's heart twisted at the awe in his voice.

"Well, I do," he said firmly. "Now, why don't you tell me about it?"

"It's my friend," Danny said hesitantly. "Rusty. Robert Ryan." He paused and Saul nodded encouragingly, and emboldened, Danny talked, words falling over each other, like no one had ever taken the time to listen before. "He got taken away a few months ago by social services, and that should be good, only I haven't heard from him since, and he wouldn't just leave me, not if he could help it. And they won't tell me where so I can't visit him, and it's..." He shook his head and looked up at Saul beseechingly. "Something isn't right. Please. If there's anything you can do. Please."

Saul found himself helpless to resist the raw, pleading look in Danny's eyes. Here was a child who had been disappointed too often.

He reached out and patted Danny on the shoulder. "Let's see what we can do," he promised. "Larry?" He looked at Anderson with a calculated air of expectation.

"What?" Anderson blinked. "That's not my department."

"You know," Saul mused aloud to no one in particular. "I always find the town government runs so much more smoothly when the mayor takes a personal interest in the practical day to day matters, and when he leads with compassion. It makes a far more tempting investment for...private investment."

There was a pause. "Private investment?" Anderson repeated slowly.

Saul smiled. "Substantial private investment," he suggested.

Anderson just about managed to resist rubbing his hands together. "Oh, well, I suppose it is a reasonable request. No harm in letting children see each other, after all...let me just go see what can be done."

With a sigh of satisfaction Saul watched him hurry off. "Sometimes you need to be a little devious to get what you want," he explained.

Danny was gazing at him in wonder.

The mayor was gone for maybe three quarters of an hour. Danny stared after him hungrily, hardly daring to believe that this might be it. This all felt like an impossible dream. He'd almost given up hope.

It had been five months since Mom had taken Rusty away, and he'd been coming to the social services office most days since, demanding news of Rusty, needing to see him.

Rusty had been so hurt. So scared. So broken. Sometimes, Danny wondered if maybe Rusty had died, and they were hiding it from him.

This had just been another day of agonising disappointment, and then Saul had sat down next to him and calmly offered to give him everything he wanted. He'd been sure it had to be a trick, that Saul was just going to listen to him and then scoff and tell him that he needed to grow up and stop whining, like Mom always did. Only Saul hadn't. Saul had simply smiled and offered the impossible.

This could really be it. He could hardly sit still. Could hardly resist the urge to run after the mayor and demand the answers right now.

"Patience," Saul murmured sympathetically. Then: "So tell me about Rusty," he asked, looking at him with what felt like genuine interest.

Danny smiled and eagerly rushed into story after story, things they'd done, scrapes they'd got into, adventures and misadventures alike, and Saul listened and nodded like he understood, and it felt like he was actually enjoying the stories. Felt like he actually cared what Danny said, and that was strange and unusual. Still, Danny was careful to steer clear of the illegal and any mention of Rusty's father. Some things no one needed to know, no matter how nice they might seem.

But the stories made time fly by, and then the mayor was back, standing over them, smiling benevolently. At Saul. Not at him. "Good news. Robert Ryan was apparently admitted to the Franklin Institute. It's our local home for children with mental difficulties."

"Rusty doesn't - " Danny began angrily, before he forced himself to swallow down the fury. He was dependent on the mayor's goodwill. He had to be meek and agreeable. To his surprise, Saul's hand gripped his shoulder in brief reassurance.

"The Franklin Institute?" Saul asked calmly.

"Yes," the mayor nodded, seemingly having not even noticed Danny speaking. "A very good place, by my understanding. Run by a Dr Mayhew. A very kindhearted man, who's devoted his life to helping troubled youngsters."

A good place. That was a reassuring thought. Maybe Rusty was just fine. Maybe he was happy, but just hadn't had a chance to get in touch. After all, if Rusty hadn't started talking again...God, he couldn't bear to think of it. But maybe Rusty just couldn't talk to him. Maybe there was an innocent explanation for everything.

"I've organised an inspection tour for the two of us," the mayor went on expansively. "And the kid can come along too."

Maybe he'd walk in there and see Rusty smiling at him and everything would be okay again.

Certainly from the outside, the Franklin Institute didn't exactly look like a good place. It looked grey and gloomy and threatening, and as Saul held the door of the car open for Danny, he saw the bleak apprehension in the boy's eyes.

"We're going to find your friend," he promised softly. "Come on, now."

Danny swallowed and nodded shakily.

"Let's go," Anderson said cheerily, apparently immune to the atmosphere.

They followed him and the social worker up the stairs and into the building. There was no one at the reception desk. In fact, the whole lobby looked deserted. Like this place didn't get many visitors.

"When's the last time this place was inspected?" he asked Anderson with a casualness he didn't feel.

Anderson blinked at him, obviously floundering, and he looked to the social worker. Mrs Warren, Saul thought she'd been introduced as. And she just shuffled her feet and looked aside shiftily. "Dr Mayhew prefers not to be disturbed," she said at last. "He says it's detrimental to the children's wellbeing."

Right. There was an unpleasant feeling in the pit of Saul's stomach. He didn't know exactly what, but something just didn't feel right here.

"Well, let's ring the bell," Anderson said jovially, walking up to the desk. "Get the guided tour, what?"

Saul nodded towards the door leading further into the building. "Oh, I think we should show ourselves around, don't you?" he said, like it was obvious. "It will give us a better picture."

"Of course, of course," Anderson said, clearly still trying his best to please him.

"Well, that's highly irregular," Mrs Warren said uncomfortably.

"Nonsense," he said cheerfully. "It's not like Dr Mayhew has anything to hide."

"Exactly," Anderson nodded, like it was his idea. "Let's try and find the good doctor."

They walked towards the door. Saul moved closer to Danny. "Stick by me," he said in a low voice. "Don't wander off, no matter what." He didn't know what was going on here, and in all probability he was just being paranoid, but he wasn't about to put the kid in danger.

The corridor was unnervingly deserted. They passed doors marked 'Dining Room', 'Kitchen', 'Activity Room 1' but they were all empty when Saul pushed the doors open. The furniture he saw was sparse, utilitarian and bolted to the floor. This place seemed more like a prison than anything else. He looked down at Danny. The boy was pale, biting his lip hard. Probably this wasn't where he wanted his friend to be living. Saul didn't blame him. The whole place had an unnerving Marie Celeste feel to it.

"I admit the décor is a little gloomy," Mrs Warren said stiffly from behind him. "But you can't argue with results. Dr Mayhew's intense disciplinary treatment has been highly successful."

He nodded, wondering just how they were measuring that. "Tell me about the institute," he invited, partly to break the oppressive silence, partly to maintain the illusion that this was some kind of inspection.

"Well, the unit is designed for up to twenty children," she began. "I believe there's fourteen in residence at the moment. Eleven boys and three girls. The activity rooms, dining hall and school room are on this floor. The dormitories are upstairs – I imagine that's where most of the children will be. There's a locked ward area in the basement, along with a time out room, and the offices are just along here." She pointed down a side passage and set off confidently.

"Good," Anderson said brightly. "Let's find Dr Mayhew and get him to bring us the boy we're looking for."

The office was small and cramped, every wall lined with bookcases. Behind the desk, several diplomas were prominently displayed. There was no one here though.

"He must be somewhere else," Mrs Warren announced unnecessarily.

Saul nodded and casually moved behind the desk, taking in the paperwork on top – nothing exciting, looked like basic order forms – and the framed photograph of a smiling middle aged man, standing next to a much younger woman and two young girls standing in front of them. The good doctor and his family, Saul guessed. At least he'd recognise the man when they found him. There was nothing sinister here at all. Probably he was being over sensitive. Still, when he caught sight of Danny surreptitiously opening the box on the wall labelled 'Master Keys', and quietly sticking them in his pocket, he wasn't exactly going to object. In fact, when Danny noticed him noticing, he assuaged the fear with an approving nod, and watched, amused, as Danny struggled to hide his astonishment.

"Well, let's go and find him then," Saul said brightly, and he figured only Danny had a hope of realising he wasn't talking about Dr Mayhew. "I suggest we start downstairs and work our way up." They'd passed a set of stairs on the way to the office.

"Really, I'm not sure if this is appropriate," Mrs Warren began, but Saul was already striding out of the office confidently, Danny following a step behind him.

There were a lot of locked doors downstairs. Saul quietly took the keys from Danny and moved before any one could challenge him. There were a couple of rooms which looked more like cells than anything else, something that looked like an interview room with a chair covered in straps, a room all painted white with white tile on the floor, which said 'Quiet Room' on the door.

Saul's hand didn't leave Danny's shoulder. He should take the child back upstairs. Have him wait in the car.

"That's strange," Mrs Warren said, puzzled. "It's been a couple of years but I don't remember that door being there." She pointed to the door at the end of the corridor. Saul immediately moved to investigate, and his eye was caught by the marks on the floor.

"That's because this filing cabinet is usually in front of it," he explained quietly, an inexplicable feeling of dread creeping through him.

"Why on earth would they do that?" Anderson said blankly.

Saul didn't answer. He searched through the keys until he found one that opened the door.

There was dried blood on the floor of the corridor beyond the door. Not a lot, but too much already. It looks as though someone had been dragged. A thick, unpleasant smell hung in the air.

He swallowed hard. "Danny, I think perhaps you'd better - "

He was interrupted. " - Good God, is that a boy?" Anderson asked in a horrified whisper. He'd pushed past Saul and was looking through the observation hatch in the next door.

Saul moved up quickly to take a look. The room was devoid of furniture. There was a boy curled up in the corner of a cell, his clothes torn and ragged, rocking backwards and forwards fearfully. There was blood all around but it was impossible to see where it was coming from. He looked to be about sixteen.

Danny had said Rusty was younger than him...

"It's not him," he assured Danny quickly, stepping in to make sure Danny couldn't see, because it might not be Danny's friend, but it was another child hurt and distressed.

"What's going on here?" Anderson demanded, sounding genuine for the first time since Saul had known him. "What's that boy doing in there?"

"We need to find Dr Mayhew," Mrs Warren insisted in a hushed voice.

"We need to - "

Danny turned round quickly, like he'd heard something, and a second later he was running down the corridor. Saul swore and took off after him.

He only caught up after Danny had reached the last door in the corridor and thrown it open.

His hand was on Danny's shoulder, and they both saw at the same moment.

It took him a second to realise that Danny had screamed.

The scene was so much worse than he could ever have imagined. The child was lying face down on a hospital bed, naked and filthy, while the man lay on top of him, one hand clamped on the child's hip, the other twisted in the matted hair, forcing the child's head down. He could see blood and bruises, and the child was squirming weakly, struggling silently beneath the man's overpowering weight, face shadowed and invisible.

The man had looked up the moment the door opened, and Saul recognised Dr Mayhew in a second. He was wearing a white labcoat, his pants pooled around his ankles. He stared at Saul, seemingly frozen in shock.

He didn't move away from the child.

He was still inside the child.

With a roar of primal, horrified fury, Saul threw himself forwards, shoving Mayhew away from the child and pinning him against the wall.

"What the...who the hell are you?" Mayhew spluttered, his eyes full of fear.

"Doesn't matter," Saul snarled. "You fucking monster." He drew back his hand and punched him. And punched him. And punched and punched and punched, and he watched as Mayhew's face crumpled into a bloody mess, not stopping until he was the only thing holding Mayhew up. Then he simply let go and Mayhew fell to the ground in an untidy heap.

"Is...is he dead?" Danny breathed hesitantly from somewhere behind him.

"No," Saul said heavily, not looking round.

"Pity," Danny said fiercely, his voice heavy with hatred.

Saul closed his eyes. What Danny had seen...God, no child should see that. Saul had known plenty of evil men in his life, and Mayhew made him feel sick inside.

He stood for a second, breathing heavily, staring down at the...thing...on the ground, longing to just carry on hitting and hurting, but conscious of Anderson standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"I've sent Mrs Warren to call the police," Anderson reported in a subdued voice. "This is just terrible. I can't believe this was going on in my city. And a man like Dr Mayhew too!"

"Why don't you go find something to tie the bastard up with," Saul said, calmer now, and he turned to look back into the room.

Danny was crouched beside the bed, peering under it. "Rus'," he said softly. Saul winced. So the child was Danny's friend. He'd been hoping...Hoping that they'd find Rusty somewhere else, safe and sound, even in this hellhole. "Rusty, you're...you're alright now." He sounded choked and uncertain. "Will you come out of there?"

There was no answer, as far as Saul heard, but Danny nodded.

"Okay...just a second," he said, and he carefully crawled under the bed himself.

For a long while there was no sound but Danny's voice, soft and reassuring.

Saul couldn't hear what Danny was saying, just the tone of voice. He tried not to listen. He could only hope that Danny was able to coax the child out from under the bed, because as awful as it was to rely on another kid like this, Danny was the only one the child would recognise, and Saul doubted that a bunch of strange adults blundering around would do anything to calm him right now. Like he didn't have enough to be traumatised about. No, for the moment it seemed best to give them a little space, and make sure they were safe. Once Mayhew was nowhere close, he'd start working on how to get the child taken care of.

Somehow, he didn't think about just standing back and leaving it to the police and social services to handle.

"I'm just out here," he called, his voice low and unthreatening. "Keeping an eye on Mayhew. He's unconscious, and I'm not going to let him near you again, Rusty."

"Thanks," Danny said softly. Saul wasn't sure if he was speaking for both of them.

"I couldn't find any rope or anything," Anderson announced as he walked back into the room. "But I was thinking about the chair back in the interview room? Just until the police get here."

"Sounds like a good idea," he nodded, actually impressed that Anderson had thought of it. He raised his voice. "Rusty? Danny? You hear that? We're going to take Mayhew out of here. Get him properly tied up so that the police can come and take him away."

"Okay," Danny answered after a moment.

"I'll be back soon," Saul promised. "Please don't go anywhere just yet."

Together with Anderson, he picked up Mayhew none too gently and dragged him out of the room and back down the corridor.

"I tried talking to the boy in there," Anderson said as they passed the cell door. "Through the door. "I...don't know if he understood. He just snarled at me. Like an animal. Mrs Warren says we'll need to wait for reinforcements." He shook his head. "With that sick monster in charge, who knows how messed up these kids could be? They were all damaged to begin with, remember."

Saul winced. He didn't want to think of it like that. "She managed to call the police?" he asked instead neutrally.

"Yes," Anderson nodded. "And apparently she bumped into a couple of nurses or orderlies or something. Staff, anyway. They swore blind they didn't know anything about...anything."

Yeah. Saul snorted. He found that hard to believe.

"We'll have to wait and see, I guess," Anderson said doubtfully. "God, I can't believe this has happened. Here, in our quiet town."

He kicked the door open and together they deposited Mayhew on the chair and buckled up all the straps and restraints they could find.

"Think he used the chair to - "Anderson began.

" - I don't know," Saul snapped, nauseated, but when he turned round it wasn't prurient curiosity on Anderson's face. His eyes were haunted.

"You should have hit him harder," he said.

Mayhew moaned, as if regaining consciousness, and a second later Anderson punched him in the jaw.

"I've got a son myself, you know," he said, shaking his hand out painfully. "I don't know what I'm going to tell everyone. How do I tell my constituents that I let this go on under my nose?"

Might not be the issue uppermost in his mind, but nonetheless Saul was feeling just a touch of sympathy towards Anderson. It wasn't just his political position he was focused on, after all. "Tell them that you personally were responsible for discovering and stopping it," he suggested. "It's the truth, after all."

"Yeah," Anderson said wearily. "But if it hadn't been for that kid looking for his friend..." He swallowed hard. "The boy that degenerate was..." He left the sentence hanging delicately. "That was the friend?"

"It seems so," Saul agreed woodenly.

"God." Anderson exhaled. "I hope he's okay."

Remembering the scene he'd walked in on, Saul found it difficult to imagine how he could be. "I'd better get back to them," he said.

"Sure," Anderson nodded. "I'll stay here and wait for the police." He shot Saul a careful look. "Good luck."

Saul nodded. He was going to need it, if he was going to get the children taken care of.

A/N: Hope you liked, please take a moment to let me know what you think.