A/N: Hello! Well, I hope this isn't a boring chapter, there's a lot of dialogue. Kind of necessary, tho'! Thanks so much for reading, more soon!

Love,

Seds

"Cut the audio. Now."

Both the sheriff and the deputy stared at Morgan, then the deputy said, "Huh?" His bewildered look suggested that he had never had an outsider make such a demand of him before. Morgan narrowed his eyes.

"This is an FBI consultation. I said, cut the audio."

"Hey, you can't-" Mueller began.

"The hell I can't. Now, shut it down or I'll take the kid into federal custody and it'll be all over the news about how the Palmer locals can't handle their own investigations, you feel me?"

There was a long pause in which none of the men moved, but then the sheriff gave a slight nod, and the deputy flipped a switch. Morgan saw the light on the circuit board fade out.

"All right. Now, give me the key to the handcuffs."

"Are you fucking nuts? No way-"

"Oh, what do you think he's going to do, jump me? Just do it."

"Goddamn it..." Mueller pulled the key off a ring and threw it to Morgan. Morgan returned to the interrogation room, closed the door and sat down. He reached for Spencer's bound hands, and said, "I don't think these are really necessary." He popped open the cuffs; Spencer gratefully rubbed his wrists and said "Thank you," in a low voice. Then, he looked up and smiled slightly. It wasn't much, but it was a step in the right direction, and Morgan took the opportunity to establish eye contact with him.

"All right, Spencer. Let's start with you answering one simple question for me. Did you kill Mary Amos?"

The boy held his eyes unwaveringly and his answer came without hesitation, while lacking the studied ease that Morgan was used to hearing from sociopaths. "No."

Morgan managed to repress a sigh of relief. It would be entirely too easy to let his emotions overtake his professional judgment, but he couldn't help being pleased to find that the boy at least appeared to be telling the truth.

"Okay-I believe you. Now, talk to me. What exactly happened that night? What were you doing down by the river?"

Spencer sighed and was quiet for a long moment. He finally seemed to gather his thoughts and began. "I couldn't sleep. It was hot in my room-the AC broke last week and they still haven't fixed it. Plus, my roommate snores. He makes these weird noises in his sleep-as a matter of fact, I strongly suspect that he has sleep apnea, which is a really serious health condition that can lead to high blood pressure, heart disease, depression, even weight gain, but he won't-"

"Kid." Morgan spoke gently. "Let's stick to the story. You were hot and you couldn't sleep. Then what?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. Well-the baby was kicking really hard. Every time I got comfortable, I'd get a punch in the ribs from the inside." Spencer actually laughed a little. "It's very active, these days. Which is good, that means it's healthy. Anyway, I kept trying to calm it down, to get it to go to sleep. I even sang to it, which I thought would be a mistake-I really can't sing-and, I'm sure it was just a coincidence, but... it seemed to hear me, and it settled down." Spencer was smiling, and he patted his stomach.

"I've been trying not to think about it too much. Mrs. Alderson-she's the boy's wing supervisor-she said they won't let me hold it after it's born." The smile faded from Spencer's face, and his shoulders slumped. "She said they're not even supposed to let the birth parent look at it, although sometimes they will, if you ask nicely."

Morgan could tell the boy was trying to sound matter-of-fact, but his voice quavered a bit, and he looked down and ran his hands over his rounded belly. When he glanced up, Morgan could see he was fighting tears. "I keep wondering if it's a boy or girl. What it'll look like. What it would feel like to... to hold it. I know I shouldn't, but-this fetus has been growing inside of me for months-moving around, responding to loud noises, kicking when I turn over in bed-it's a part of me, and... they might not even let me see its face." He paused to take a breath. "It's not fair," he said, almost to himself.

Morgan cleared his throat. "Okay. So, what did you do?"

"I got up and got dressed, then I snuck out into the hall. No one was around. There's a door at the far end-it's alarmed and locked, but I have some gadgets I brought with me-they let you bring some personal stuff, and I do magic as a hobby-and it was super-easy to disarm it. Then, it only took a couple of minutes to pick the lock. I got outside, and there was a little breeze blowing. I thought it might be even cooler down by the water, so I headed for the river.

"Once I got down there, I sat on the bank and... it was cooler. The moon was in the sky, and it was so quiet. Peaceful. No boats, no people, just the water lapping. I heard a loon calling downriver, and-I don't know, I got up and started walking. And I... just kept going."

Morgan smiled. "You were running away."

Spencer nodded sheepishly. "Yeah. It was stupid, I know. I didn't have anything, no money, nothing, but, I kept thinking-if I could just get far enough away from that place, somehow I'd know what to do. Then... I guess I'd gone about a half mile when I heard a woman scream."

"Go on."

"I thought it must be kids fooling around, but, there was something about it-it was so real-then, she screamed again, and again, and again. I started running in that direction, but all of a sudden, the screaming stopped. It just... stopped. I came to the bridge. I looked down by the water, and I saw her. This woman-she was lying on her back, not moving. I went to her, and I felt for her pulse, but... there was so much blood. Her skin was slippery, my hand was covered in it, I could smell it... then, all of a sudden, she opened her eyes and grabbed my hand. I... I've never seen such... terror in someone's eyes. But, she saw me and, I guess she knew I wasn't going to hurt her. She said, 'Stay... Stay with me.'"

By now, tears were trickling down the boy's cheeks, and he absently brushed them away. "Maybe I should have run for help, but I couldn't leave her. I knew she was dying. I tried to staunch the blood with my hands, but... she had other wounds, I could tell by her breathing a lung had been punctured, and... She was looking into my eyes. I kept babbling something to her, like 'It's okay, it'll be okay,' even though I knew it wouldn't. Then... her grip loosened... a stream of blood came out of her mouth... And, her eyes clouded... it was as if someone had turned off the lights. She... died, right there. And there was nothing I could do for her. I looked around, but no one was there. I started heading up the bank, and when I got to the street, all I saw was a row of warehouses. I wasn't sure where to go, plus, I was feeling a little light-headed, and I guess I was sort of weaving around, looking for someone to help.

"Then, this cop car came around the corner. It stopped and the officers got out and started questioning me. I... guess I was in shock or something, because I couldn't even understand what they were saying. I pointed to where the dead woman was and after a while they put me in handcuffs and shoved me into the car. They kept yelling these questions at me, confusing me, and they were so mean. Then, one of them asked me why I'd done it, and suddenly, I realized-" The boy took a deep breath. "They thought I was the killer."

"So, what did you do?"

"All I could think of was something my dad once told me-he's an attorney-he said, 'If the cops ever decide to hassle you, just don't say anything. Keep quiet and call me.' That just kept going through my mind, don't say anything. So, I didn't." He tiredly dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his eyes.

Morgan sat quietly for a few moments, then said gently, "Spencer, I need you to focus on what happened when you found Mary on the ground. Did you hear anyone else speak? Did you see anyone? A weapon? Did she say or do anything else before she died? Anything you remember might help."

Spencer gave him a troubled look and shook his head. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I... there's something. Something about the bridge. But, it slips away every time I try to picture it. I'm sorry, I just-I was so scared for that woman. I wanted to help her, and-" His voice had developed into an anxious strain.

Morgan nodded. "Okay, okay, relax. This is a common reaction to a traumatic event. It'll come to you later. And, when it does, I want you to contact me immediately."

"Okay."

"Now-have you spoken with your dad?"

"I tried. But, I just got his answering machine, and haven't heard from him since."

"I'll see what I can do about getting a hold of him."

Spencer pursed his lips and looked down at his hands resting on his belly. "Don't bother, he won't help me."

Morgan gave him a puzzled glance. "Oh, come on. His son's in trouble-of course he'll help you."

"No. He doesn't want anything to do with me as long as I'm-like this. He doesn't want anyone to know he's the father of a 'breeder boy.' It might hurt his reputation back in Boston." Spencer bitterly spat out the last words.

"Look, don't worry, okay? I'm going to have a contact of mine in Quantico see about getting a rush put on those DNA results. Now that you've made a statement, they don't have anything else to hold you on, so I'll have them release you into my custody and I'll take you back to the home for the night."

"I don't want to go back there. I'd rather stay in jail. At least in there, it's air-conditioned."

It occurred to Morgan that the Emma Sanders Home must be a pretty grim place, if the boy preferred to spend the night in a jail cell. "Well, I'm sorry, kid, but they're your official guardians at this time. Although..." Morgan pondered for a moment. "I can tell them to wait until morning to do the paperwork. Hopefully, by then, I'll be able to contact your father and maybe we can work something out."

Spencer shrugged. "Yeah, well-good luck with that."

"He's your father. I think you underestimate him."

Spencer stared past Morgan. "I just wish he'd let me keep the baby," he said softly. "But, he won't. I know that."

Morgan sighed. He knew his job was to see to it that the boy stayed safe until he was cleared of suspicion in the Mary Amos murder, and that after that, he had no business concerning himself with the boy or his problems. But, this was one of the hardest parts of his job-turning his humanity on and off.

He caught Spencer's eye and smiled encouragingly. "I know this is tough. I can't imagine being in your situation. But, you're a smart kid, and you're going to get through this, and you're going to have a good life, and so will your baby. So, don't worry, okay?"

Years of practice helped Morgan say the words as if he meant them.