An official disclaimer: I don't own these characters, but I would love to give Idris Elba and Warren Brown a hug and a congratulatory cup of tea. These events are based soon after the end of Series Two.

Luther plodded towards the exit, rubbing his eyes wearily, flexing his hands from paper work. Now, if only he could get a few days of murderers behaving themselves, he could actually get some sleep before the next case.

Then his phone pinged.

He flicked it on and found himself staring at the slightly blurring photo of a quiet car park. No text, no bodies, no figures walking through, and sent from an unfamiliar phone number, it all sent him wearily back towards the elevator and back up to the crime offices he had just bid goodnight.

Despite the late hour and near-deserted floor, Benny was still square-eyed in front of his computer and barely looked up when Luther murmured "Hey, Benny, mate, can you run a quick search on this, please?"

"Yeah, sure! What's the occasion?"

Luther frowned at the photo, and said "Not sure. Just something left over to check out."

Five minutes later, he was sitting in his car, still frowning at his phone. The picture wasn't part of the previous case, nor any case before that. It was far too simple and unsophisticated for Alice, who was cryptic and dramatic enough to have splashed her signature over something addressed to him. Schenk, DS Gray and Ripley, and even Jenny, would have rung already. This was a puzzle...Luther started up the car, and began backing out of the car park.

Nearing by the allotment, Luther's eyes scanned the dimly-lit area as he carefully parked and stepped out onto the pavement, double-checking the gun concealed by his coat.

Clicking through his phone until he reached the photo, he turned on a hand torch and tucked his phone away as he walked slowly into the car park to find the photographer or the scene. He stalked through the lot in a fluid hunt, until he paused at a sudden, soft whimper off to his right.

Snapping his head around, he focused on a small bundle of stained blanket slumped again the far brick wall and started to approach it cautiously. No bigger than a gym bag, there was another small whimpered and the tip of a foot tumbled from the shadowed folds.

Luther ran over and dropped to his knees, gently reaching out with his free hand to pull back a corner of blanket, immediately revealing a dazed pair of brown eyes staring into his own. Quickly scanning for blood, Luther pulled the blanket back further and spotted the top of an over-sized singlet and dark bruising before an arm shot out and clutched his wrist, tugging the blanket closed again. All that was visible was the child's wide, barely focused eyes, as he flinched back from Luther's looming form.

"Calm down, mate, shush, you're safe now," John murmured, trying to squeeze himself into a smaller, non-threatening figure. His mind raced: what on earth this kid was doing out here?! And what did he have to do with this?! Is this is a new case, was he targeted, was he-?

He started as his wrist was seized and the boy whispered "...Luther?"

Staring intently at the kid now, Luther picked up his abandoned torch and leaned forward as the boy shifted again and groaned. He positioned it so the light illuminated without blinding, and peered closely, looking for familiarity.

Scanning his face, John tried to see past the blood and blanket. Maybe 7, maybe 8 years old at best, the kid was curled up on his right side and was dressed in what appeared to be an adult's singlet and cotton boxers. With a olive tinge to the skin, the dark eyes and close-cropped curls, the kid could have been Ripley's little cousin, there was definitely a resemblance.

"Hey, mate, what's your name?"

The brown eyes, squinting in the bright light, blinked, confused. "Wha..." The boy moved to sit up, then slumped again with a painful gasp. "...Boss?"

"Your name? What is it?"

"...DS Justin Ripley. Boss, what's happened?"

Luther slumped against the wall himself and dragged his hands down his face. This was impossible. It had to be impossible. Nothing he had heard of, nothing he had ever seen, seemed to make this real. But the kid didn't seem to be lying, and even if this was a bizarre scheme, hoax, trap, whatever, there was a hurt child abandoned in an old car-park and that was something he could fix.

Giving his head a shake to clear it, he made up his mind and reached over to gently tuck the blanket around the kid's shivering body.

"Okay, Justin, listen to me and we'll get through this."