The carpet had been vacuumed recently, but the rough fibers were too tightly packed to offer up any reliable footprints. Pushing himself up from his knees, bracing one hand against the wall, Detective Lassiter nodded to the officer standing nearby. "There's a dart buried in the molding, have CSU get a shot of that, then bag it." The officer nodded, heading outside towards the sound of a camera flash.

Stepping gingerly past the crawling forensic techs, O'Hara approached her partner with her cell phone in hand. "That was the Chief. She just left Gus's house… he hasn't seen Shawn since four pm yesterday when he left for a date. He said Shawn was having dinner with Henry last night."

Lassiter nodded. That bit of news wasn't unknown to them. Judging from the level of beer in the two bottles on the porch, they'd likely finished eating around seven-thirty give or take- headed for the deck to share a few, then been interrupted… probably by the bowl shattering inside. The dart was a somewhat positive sign, meaning their kidnapper or kidnappers planned to keep them alive. The down side was that there hadn't been any ransom demands of any kind. That either meant they were waiting, letting the cops stew for a bit… or they wanted the two captives for something other than money. The alternatives were unpleasant to contemplate.

"How's Gus handling it?" Asked Lassiter, glancing towards his partner.

O'Hara lifted one shoulder, letting her eyes travel around the room, tightening on the dart being pried from the wall. "He's scared." Her mouth hung open for a second longer, breath passing over her teeth. Then she closed it tightly, lifting her head up to stare up at him stiffly. "I'll take the dart in, I'm guessing they'll want to process it right away."

"Listen, O'Hara…" he reached out a hand, but stopped short of placing it on her shoulder. Instead, as she turned back, he slid it into his pocket. "Look, I know Spencer is your friend… this is going to be tough- and that's okay. You'll do just fine; you just need to think of it as another crime scene."

Her eyes darkened as she tilted her head a bit to the side. "Will you… can you do that Carlton?" Without waiting for his answer, she snatched the bagged dart from the officer near the door and walked out.

Both hands in his pockets now, Lassiter tipped his head back for a moment, eyes closed. Dammit Spencer… Well it wasn't as if the guy was his friend after all. In fact, he hardly qualified as an acquaintance. Dropped his head back, he pulled out his hands and rolled his shoulders.

"Okay people, listen up, these guys are some of ours, so no cutting corners! I want every inch of this place documented or so help me God, I'll feed you to McNabb's cat- understood?" Sharp nods all around. Lips thin in approval, Lassiter grabbed the phone from his hip. The Chief would want to know about the dart.

0o0o0o0o0

Henry woke slowly, blinking away the heavy effects of the sedative coursing through him. Unthinkingly, he lifted his hand to wipe at his eyes- and paused in shock. He wasn't restrained to the chair any longer. He looked up sharply to see Lizbeth… or was it Mae this time… standing by the table bearing his son.

"You will feel some stiffness when you stand- that is normal."

Cool, distant, emotionless. That could only mean 'doc' was back in control. She gestured with one hand. "There is a bathroom just behind you. You are no doubt in need of it at this point. Once you return, I'll allow your son to go, and then I'll tend to his injuries."

"Why do this?" He asked softly, his voice scratching after going without water. "I mean, obviously you're concerned about our health… and that medical kit of yours can't have everything you need to offer the right treatment…" he looked at her steadily, his voice carefully modulated. "Let the boy go. Let him go, and I'll stay here."

"Dad!"

"Quiet Shawn." He didn't look away from the woman, nor did he raise his voice. "You don't need him. He's just a burden to you. Let him go…" the tiniest shake in his voice made him clip the end of his sentence abruptly.

Doc lifted an eyebrow. "You really don't understand at all, do you. I don't care whether or not he gets the proper treatment. The only reason I'm not letting him bleed all over is because of Lizbeth. She's frightened of blood, and she's been through more than enough as it is. Mae and I made a pact to do whatever we could to protect her… and to get vengeance for her. I let Mae handle the…'sessions'… and I clean up after her. But don't fool yourself into thinking any part of this is compassion."

Reaching beside herself, she brought out the knife that she'd obviously retrieved from the floor. "You have five minutes, starting when you enter the bathroom." Leaning slightly to the side, she pressed the tip of the blade into Shawn's inner thigh, drawing a sharp inhalation as it bit slightly into his flesh. "If you do not return in that time, or if you attempt any subterfuge, I will press harder. It will not take long to bleed out."

Nodding, Henry pushed himself painfully from the solid surface. His back was screaming at him, and his legs felt disconnected from the rest of his body as he staggered in the direction indicated. The door to the bathroom was half-hidden in shadow, but he found it easily enough. Once inside, he quickly scanned the room for anything useful. It didn't take long to find there wasn't a single item in the small square room that would help him, or Shawn. The only things visible were a stool and a roll of toilet paper. There wasn't even a mirror above the sink. Feeling the seconds ticking heavily, he decided to take care of at least one need. He eyed the water dripping from the faucet into the stained white porcelain. Okay, make that two needs.

0o0o0o0o0

Henry re-emerged from the bathroom in under three minutes, wiping the stray drops of water from his lips. Without speaking, Doc pointed to the chair with her free hand. Sighing, Henry hesitated for just the barest second. It was enough, though, and Doc pressed the knife a little deeper.

"GNUH!"

"Stop, stop… I'm sitting!" He said quickly, dropping back to the solid surface. His back still felt numb, and immediately began to throb as soon as he was settled.

"Attach your leg restraints, and then you right wrist."

Aware of the blade digging into Shawn's leg, he swiftly reached down, muscles straining, to carry out her instructions. Then, pushing with his hands on his knees, he straightened again and looped the stiff leather over his arm, buckling it into place. Only then did Doc pull the knife away, grabbing a nearby towel to wipe the tip.

"I am going to restrain your other arm. Resist in any way, and I will kill your son."

Keeping perfectly still, Henry looked back toward the table as the buckle was pulled tight over his left wrist. She then proceeded to recheck the other bindings as well, pulling them tighter- but not enough to cut into his flesh. While she worked, Henry studied his son's face. His skin had grown pale, his eyes dry and listless as he stared towards the far corner of the room. The bleeding from his side had finally stopped again, as had the puncture in his upper thigh. Still, he looked like an excellent candidate for the ER. Looking back down at the top of Doc's head, he spoke carefully.

"After you've treated him, he needs food. His body will need all the energy it can produce in order to restore the blood he's lost. As a doctor, I know you understand that."

She looked up at him, seeming to consider his words. Finally she dipped her head. "It can be considered. I know Mae was somewhat disappointed in his lack of energy earlier."

Breath tight, Henry didn't speak again as she straightened and returned to Shawn's side. "I'm going to remove your bindings. You are damaged, and if you resist me, I will easily be able to overpower you. Afterward, I will cut your father's throat. Do you understand?"

Shawn nodded. Bending over him, Doc worked his right hand free, then stepped back until she was next to Henry's chair. He felt the blade tickle under his chin, but made no move to pull away.

"Remove the rest of your bindings. There is a small stepstool next to the table; you may use it to climb down."

It took some time for his son to work himself free from the table. By the time he was done, he was breathing heavily and clutching at his side. Doc allowed him a few seconds to gather himself, then pressed the blade a little closer. "You have five minutes. If you feel you might have difficulty, I will assist you."

Shawn's eyes widened a bit, and he hunched his shoulders. "I'll be fine." He said hoarsely. Sliding to the edge of the table, he eased his feet down to the short stool below. His arms shook as he clutched the metal surface, and when he started to step away, he nearly fell. Doc merely waited, watching his progress as he limped badly across the wet floor, one arm held out for balanced while the other remained pressed against his side.

It was just a little over four and a half minutes when Shawn returned. Henry was relieved to see the droplets of water on his son's chin.

"Return to the table, and attach you ankles and right hand." Said Doc in the same monotonous tone that she'd used to direct Henry.

Without pause, Shawn carried out her instructions, though it was awkward and threaded with small grunts of pain. Only after he was completely flat did the woman step away from Henry's side again, shutting the knife and dropping it into her pocket as she approached Shawn's left side. Quickly, she attached the final restraint and checked the others. Finally, satisfied, she leaned to the side and grabbed the medical kit. "You are bleeding again. I will close the wounds, but I recommend you try to remain stationary in order to heal."

She dealt with the side wound first, ignoring the small yelps as the needle bit through the reddened flesh to pull the edges together. Afterward, she applied a cloth soaked in iodine, taping it against the pale skin beneath.

Shawn's chest was heaving by the time she finished and stepped away. Without pause, she placed a hand on his leg, holding it still as he trembled- though from her touch or from pain, Henry wasn't certain. Grasping the edges of the torn fabric, she ripped the opening wide to expose the deep gouge beneath. Once more, she cleaned and disinfected the area, preparing it for her battlefield surgery. Shawn seemed to be struggling fiercely for control, but by the time she made the third stitch, he was groaning and biting into his lip.

This wound took longer to close; and when she finally snapped shut the kit, both Henry and Shawn were sweating out the little bit of water they'd managed to ingest.

"I will bring you some food now. Try not to move." At that, she walked from the room. Listening closely, Henry could hear her steady tread as she vanished through the door and ascended a flight of stairs. About halfway up, though, her footsteps disappeared. There was no creak from overhead floorboards, no sounds of doors opening and shutting… nothing. From the look of the room, this wasn't a new house. That must mean she'd soundproofed this room at some point. This also meant she'd truly planned out this entire thing a long time ago. And, Henry knew, it meant she probably wouldn't stop.

0o0o0o0o0

He loathed her touch, but endured it in order to finish the sandwich she fed him. She'd removed the restraint from his neck so that he could eat properly, though it put some strain on his shoulders and back in spite of the small hand braced against his spine. Chewing the last bite, he flinched slightly when she raised a glass of water.

"I will not harm you- drink." She pressed the rim against his lips, and he gulped it down greedily. Once the glass was empty, she set it on the edge of the table and eased him back down on the surface, reattaching the strap across his throat.

"What about my dad?"

She raised one eyebrow. "I was not instructed to feed him."

"Please… please, I'm sure he could use something to eat too…"

She smiled, her shoulders shrugging as she stared down at him. "Maybe… how bad do you want it? Will you trade for it?"

Shawn's breath puffed out at the sudden shift in her voice and stance. No…

"Really, I don't know why you even care about him. From what I know, he was a terrible father." Her hand brushed against his side, close to the stitches, and he jerked his shoulders in revulsion.

"Anyway, I don't want to talk about him… I've got much more entertaining thoughts I want to discuss." Her hand trailed down to his leg, curling around to press against the small nick she'd made earlier.

"Guhh- stop it!"

"HEY!"

Ignoring both men, she pressed her hands on the table edge and hopped up, coming to a rest on the small lip at Shawn's side. Turning her hips, she brought up her legs and slid over his waist to straddle him. Gasping at the pressure her weight put on his side, Shawn pulled away as much as possible as she leaned down and breathed against his neck. "What do you say- you ready for round two?"

Without waiting for a response, she slid agonizingly down his body until she was gripping her knees around his calves. Dropping her hands to his waist, she ignored his protests as she worked loose the button and slid his zipper down. "This is going to be great… why not just relax? Come on, there is no way this is your first time!"

"GET OFF OF HIM!! LIZBETH- STOP THIS!!"

She giggled. "Sorry dad, Lizzy isn't home tonight. It's just me now… and I was promised some fun!" Her fingers groped as she grinned widely, and Shawn felt, with that same black sickness, his body tighten in response.

"Please don't… please… please…" He hated the trembled begging, hated how quickly he was reduced to this terrified state… hated the way he burned with a twisted blend of debasement and revolting desire.

"I can tell you want this…"

"STOP IT!!!"

"I know it feels good…"

"LIZBETH!!"

"All men want it…"

She had that dreamy stare again, eyes focused on him while her hands… her hands… wouldn't… stop…

"Please… get… off…"

"LIZBETH!!"

"I'd never hurt you baby…" She whispered, one hand sliding up to drag fingernails across his midsection.

"STOP IT!!! GOD….STOP IT!!!

"Plea… please… d-don't…" Shawn tried to roll to the side, tried to throw her off, but her legs gripped him tightly, and his movements were too restricted. He gasped roughly between the spaces in his teeth- mindless of the tears that ran steadily down his face- mindless of his father's screams, mindless of everything but that hands that wouldn't let go… that wouldn't quit touching him… that wouldn't…

As she pressed her palms against him, his vision darkened, and he ground out a thick growl, his hips jerking sharply. Then, dropping to the table surface, he turned his face away and choked in silent disgrace.

Mae, meanwhile, laughed in glee as she sat up straighter, half rotating to the side. "What do you think daddy- want to give it another go? Shawn'll tell you how good it is, won't you babe!" Turning back around, she draped her body across him and laced her fingers together over his panting chest. "I knew you'd like it… men are all the same…"

He wanted nothing more than to step in front of a bus.

As she slid from his body, carefully avoiding the damaged left leg, she brushed off her jeans. "Next time, maybe we can share that experience a little more… intimately." Leaning over, she pressed a kiss against his cheek.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!!" He cried, lurching away as far as he could and rocking his head to the side.

0o0o0o0

Henry thought his arms would break from the strain of pulling at the leather straps. His voice was ragged by the time Mae slid from Shawn's body. When his son screamed at her attempt at a kiss, he felt his heart shatter.

"You… fucking… bitch!" He rasped with a voice like scorched earth. Never, never had he used language like that in front of his son… and never towards a woman. But right now, watching his broken child shaking and crying ten feet away, he couldn't think beyond his desire to snap her neck in three places.

"I had a good time… we will definitely… definitely have to do this again." She said brightly, flipping her short bob and walking from the room.

Ignoring her exit, ignoring the filth that passed as words when she strode by, Henry stared at his humiliated son. He wanted to fix it… soothe it away somehow. Like when Shawn was little… and all it took was little pat, a few words, a little time discussing how to avoid such things in the future…

But how could he fix this? How could he erase it… How could he comfort away a devastated heart… a fragmented spirit?

"….dad… dad…" The tiny whispers fluttered, high-pitched and pleading, between the shuddering gasps and gulped tears.

"Shawn…" his own response was liquid, staggering and wretched in a single word.

"…please don't let… please don't… muuhh... please… dad…" his voice tapered off as he tried to roll to his side, failing with a tug of leather. His shoulders wouldn't stop shaking- and he wouldn't look in Henry's direction.

His chest felt like it was caving as Shawn melted into shattered sobs. Tugging fiercely again, Henry felt his own tears running unchecked down his coarse face. "I'm here kid… I'm here… I'm here…"

Over and over he whispered the soft litany… knowing there was nothing else he could do… nothing else he could promise… nothing else he could offer that would help.

Nothing short of getting them out.

But regardless of anything else… regardless if they escaped… regardless if he had to sell himself to accomplish it, he'd make sure Mae never touched his son again.