A/N: so this chapter came fast and hot. What you guys think? ~~The Chronicler
0o0o0o0o0
Constable Kevin Wordsworth stood in the Buteau living room, resisting the urge to fidget.
He had seen houses before that had lost a child. Parents gone mad with grief and anger; homes destroyed; families shattered; the whispered crying; the blank stares; the quiet…
The quiet was the worse.
Wordy could hear his daughters bouncing around, laughing and squealing, even now. Even with them miles away, tucked away, safe and sound with his wife at home, probably torturing their mother with a giant sheet tent in the middle of the front room, booby trapped with half-dressed Barbie Dolls and Littlest Pet Shop Bobble heads.
Would his home be quiet?
Wordy shook his head almost violently, thrusting the thought out of his head.
Focus!
"Are you alright, Officer?" Regine asked as she returned to the room, carrying a tray of tea to the coffee table.
Wordy felt a pang of guilt. Here was this childless mother worrying about him! "Um, yes, ma'am. Fine, thank you." He quickly tried to put her at ease.
With a graceful bow of the head, Regine began to pour tea.
Taking a deep breath, Wordy took a moment to organize himself. Looking about the room, he saw a comfortable, lived in room.
Family pictures adorned every flat surface and hanging from the walls, normal for a happy family.
Trophies lined the fireplace mantle, normal for proud parents.
The curtains were drawn, normal for a house in mourning.
Wordy stepped up to one of the end tables, covered with pictures of Luc with varies friends. One picture showed him laughing, an arm thrown around the shoulders of a laughing girl. "Is this Pippy?" he asked, though he knew the answer.
The mother crossed the room to stand at his side. She looked down at the pictures filled with fond memories. She smiled sadly. "Yes. She was in the advance classes with Luc. Oh, Pippy was a wonderful friend to our Luc. Best friend. They were inseparable." She picked up the picture and held it to her as if she was holding those two children, protecting them, loving them. When she looked up at Wordy, her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "She would come over after school every day, did their school work together…" her eyes drifted to the dining room table in the other room, memories filling the room with long gone sights and sounds. "I don't know what her home life was like, but I don't believe it was happy. It wasn't long before there was a spot set at the table for her most nights. It was wonderful watching her open up… grow… blossom into a beautiful young woman. When she laughed it was like magic… the whole room laughed with her." Her eyes drifted down, a soft sigh escaping. "I miss that sound."
Wordy watched her, feeling his heart ache for her. "She lost Luc…"
Regine nodded, her eyes closing for just a breath. Then she took a deep breath and returned the picture to its place on the table. "When she lost Luc she lost her whole world. I… we tried to be there for her, but Jean Paul…" She ran light fingers over the pictures…
Luc running with a football, a small boy on his heels;
Christmas dinner with Jean Paul and Luc playfully arguing over the turkey leg while Pippy sneaks it out from under them both;
Luc and Pippy standing shoulder to shoulder, together, showing off their science project adorned with a big, blue ribbon;
Luc, his arms thrown around a laughing Pippy, a young boy squeezed between them…
Wordy licked his lips. "What happened?" he prodded.
Regine sighed again. She looked up at him. "He was so angry. He was so focused, never spoke of anything else. I told him it wasn't good for her, that she had to live, to grow beyond this… but he just couldn't let go…" Again she let her gaze drift away, remembering her husband holding the girl, letting her cry on his shoulder, letting her hurt and pain feed his anger… allowing his hurt and pain to feed her anger…
Wordy nodded to himself. Something else he had seen before… loved ones feeding off of each other, working themselves up into a murderous frenzy…
He glanced around the room suddenly. "Where is Mr. Buteau now?"
"Where he always is this time of day." She looked up at him again. "At the Garden."
"The Garden?" Wordy frowned. "Where it happened?"
"The Garden?" was echoed in his headset, reminding Wordy he wasn't alone in this conversation.
Regine nodded slightly. "He goes every day at five. Everyday… since it happened…" she turned away, walking back to the couch and tea. "Everyday…" she whispered as she lowered herself down to sit on the couch and pick up a cup of tea.
The voices from the headset were discussing this new information:
Sam: "Boss, there was another sighting…"
Jules: "We're coming pretty close to the Gardens…"
Ed: "She's taking him to the father…"
Greg: "Wordy, I need you to ask her something…"
Wordy licked his lips, his throat feeling suddenly dry. He didn't want to ask her. He didn't want to hear the answer. Still…
He turned and came to stand before her. Crouching down so she wouldn't have to look up at him, he spoke softly, but clearly: "Mrs. Buteau, I need to ask you… Do you think it's possible that Pippy… or your husband… are they capable, if given the opportunity, of killing Officer Greely?"
She looked at him, unflinching, breathing even and steady, eyes clear, voice unwavering as she answered "Please, do not ask me to answer that."
And then the house was quiet.
0o0o0o0o0
Greg looked at Ed.
Ed looked back.
They reacted as one, grabbing their gear as they headed for the door. "You heard them, team." Greg was saying in his head set as they climbed into their truck. "We'll meet you at the Gardens."
"Go quiet." Sam and Ed's voices overlapped.
Greg glanced back at his friend, but Ed was already mumbling "Sorry."
"'s okay." Sam assured. Then started again. "Go quiet. If Spike isn't there, the only thing saving him is not giving anyone a chance to react."
"No lights, no sirens." Greg agreed.
"Spike…" Ed started.
Greg nodded. "Wordy, need you to keep talking to Mrs. Buteau, buddy. They'd want to keep their hostage close enough in case things go bad." He neglected to say that going bad meant they would want him close to kill him quick. "She might know favorite hangouts nearby."
It was quiet for a moment as Greg directed the truck through the crowd, making their way out onto the road.
"I screwed up, boss." Ed grumbled.
"How?" Greg asked, seemingly paying more attention to driving than his friend. His hand dropped to the box on his belt, turning the mouth piece off on his headset, keeping their conversation private.
Ed shook his head in frustration. "I left him alone. I knew he was in a fragile state, and I stepped out of the room and left him alone."
"Eddy, you're human…"
"No, no." He kept shaking his head. "Spike in trouble…"
"Not your fault, buddy." Greg reassured, but was ignored.
"I should have been in top form. Should have been twice as alert. Not just about Greely… if Spike's hurt… worse…" Ed continued to ramble.
"Hey!" Greg raised his voice, demanding his attention. When Ed's eyes snapped about to look at him, Greg used that tone that not even Ed Lane bulked against. "Spike is going to be fine! We are getting him back!"
Ed stared at him, almost surprised that he needed the support that, so recently, he had been dishing out. Sighing, his voice lowered and he told his friend "I gotta make good on this call, Greg."
Greg frowned, not liking the tone of the conversation at all. "Why's that?" he wanted to know, though he was sure he had an idea.
Ed looked away. "'cause it's my last."
0o0o0o0o0
Wordy glanced at the pictures again. "Mrs. Buteau, do you know a boy called Dog?"
The woman smiled with fond memories. She rose to her feet, crossed the room, and took a picture from the collection.
Luc and Pippy with a young boy squeezed between them.
"Douglas." Regine told him, returning to the couch and handing him the picture. "When Luc first brought him home, he was nothing but skin, bones, bruises, and dirt. He wouldn't even speak to anyone but Luc and Pippy for weeks." She smiled at the picture. "Hot food, warm clothing, a few baths, good friends… He was a wonder, that one. He was a couple of years younger than Luc, but he didn't stop him from looking over their shoulders, soaking up every bit of knowledge he could from them. Luc would always tell him that he had everything he ever needed to be anything he ever wanted. All he needed was a chance." She looked at the curtained window, remembering back to a soccer game on the front lawn. "They were all good kids, all trying to be better than opportunity allowed."
Wordy looked down at the boy, smiling under dark eye lashes, a hood pulled over his head with big, fluffy dog ears dangling from either side. Big dark eyes looked up at his hero, Luc, with near worship, holding on to the two older kids like they were his life line.
And now Luc was gone.
And Pippy was slipping away.
"Do you know where he lived?" Wordy asked.
Regine frowned. "I wondered that often." She admitted. "I asked him once." She sipped at her tea.
"What did he say?" Wordy pushed.
She looked at him. "Nothing. And I didn't ask again." She answered. "Hot food, warm clothing, a few baths, good friends… just like Pippy, he was growing strong, blossoming…" She hesitated. "He loved engineering. There was this building he used to draw over and over again. He was fascinated with the way the water system worked."
"A water tank?" Wordy asked.
"I… I don't know." Regine spoke slowly. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the officer sitting across from her. "Is Douglas involved with your missing officer?"
"Careful." warned Greg's voice in Wordy's headset. "Be honest, but let her know that we want to help him. We are not hunting the boy. We want to help him."
Wordy dropped his eyes, but only for a fraction, before meeting her gaze. "Yes, ma'am, we believe so. We're worried about him, Mrs. Buteau, both Pippy and Douglas. We want to bring them home safe and sound. Everyone."
She watched him for a moment before setting her tea down. "Constable Wordsworth, ask me your question about Douglas."
Wordy hesitated, not sure at first what she was asking. What question… He stopped thinking. "Um… Do you think it is possible that… Douglas could hurt one of our officers?"
Regine held her chin high, her eyes steady, her voice strong. "No. There is no chance what so ever that Douglas would hurt anyone."
0o0o0o0o0
The lantern bobbed as it floated on the rising water, its light dancing on the walls in a kaleidoscope of flickering shapes and shadows.
For a time, Spike would watch them, just to keep his mind from falling back into the dark.
He didn't want to fall back into the dark. It was cold and lonely and… cold and lonely…
But, after a few breaths, his stomach would roll, twist, bounce, and he had to close his eyes. When his eyes were closed the only thing that reminded him that he was alive was the cold. The cold sank into everything, every joint, every muscle, every bone, every tooth as it clattered against its buddies, giving voice to the damnable cold…
Then he would force his eyes open, forcing his mind to move, to be active, to stay alive, to watch the dancing light on the walls…
…until his stomach began to roll, twist, bounce…
"Spike?"
No, no, no, no….
He forced his eyes open to see Dog wading through the waist high water toward him, a pry bar in one hand. "I… I… I told you… to go…" he managed through clattering teeth.
"Huh. You really don't know anything 'bout teenagers, do you?!" Dog chuckled at him. He stepped behind the pipe Spike was cuffed to. "I think I can get you lose."
"Wh… what… key…" Spike dropped his head against the pipe. He knew this was a bad idea. He knew! But his stuttering, aching head just couldn't quite grasp why.
Dog shook his head. "Matt's got the key." was all he needed as an explanation. He stretched up, jiggling the end of the bar in between the metal rings of the cuffs.
"Ca… careful…"
"Stop talking. You sound funny." Dog growled at him as he gritted his teeth and pulled down as hard as he could on the bar. "Come on, come on, come on…." He grunted and cursed.
The cuffs pulled on Spike's wrists as any give was being pulled just as far…
The end of the bar slipped from the steel ring, slamming across the back of Spike's hand and dropping Dog into the water with a splash.
Spike bit back a cry, squeezing his eyes so tight he saw white flashes.
Dog's head broke through the water with a spew of sputtering and curses. He swatted at the water as if it was responsible for all the ills of the world. "Damn it, damn it, damn it…."
"D… Doug… bro, you okay?" Spike managed, opening his eyes to find the boy.
Dripping wet from head to toe, Dog looked up at him. "Stop talking!" he snapped.
Spike smiled. "S… sssound…. Funny?"
Dog glared at him for a moment, before he shook his head angrily, his wet dog ears spraying water in all directions. He looked up at Spike. "Ah, damn, you're bleeding." He stepped up to the pipe again and yanked the bandanna off his face. Wrapping it around Spike's hand, he mumbled "Stupid, stupid, stupid." Tying the cloth in place, he stepped back. "How's that?"
Spike gazed at the boy through bleary vision. "Huh."
Dog frowned at him. "What?"
Spike shrugged. "F… First t… time I see… see you…" He tried to smile. "C… cute kid."
"Shut up." Dog huffed, hitting the water, splashing the officer.
"Hey! Puppy!"
Spike stiffened, every muscle that he could still feel igniting.
"Matt." Dog hissed. He stepped around the prisoner to glare at the man who jumped down from the ladder with a splash. "Where's the key, Matt? Pippy said when she got Greely, this one could go."
"Nooooo, Puppy." Matt answered as he eased through the water toward them, the cattle prod bouncing on his shoulder. "She said when she was done with Greely, she'd be done with this one."
"The water's rising fast. He'll drown. We can let him go now!" Dog insisted.
His hand snapped out, grabbing the boy by the chin. "We can't let him go now. You blew that, didn't you, puppy? Showed off your ugly mug. He's not gonna forget that." He pushed the boy aside. "Probably be kinder if we just put him out of his misery now." He raised the cattle prod, pressing it hard against the base of Spike's skull. "Just one little zap. What you think, pig? Ready to say nighty-night?"
Spike closed his eyes.
Mom and Pop….
Sarg and the guys…
Winnie…
"No!" Dog screamed, suddenly coming up swinging his pry bar at Matt.
The bigger kidnapper jumped aside just in time to avoid the bar. With a growl, he spun about, grabbed the bar with one hand, and back handing the boy with the other.
Dog fell back into the water again, but Matt was quick to follow, jumping on his back and pushing him under the water.
"Little, pathetic Puppy!" he snarled.
"Get off of him!" Spike yelled. Using all the energy he didn't know he had, he jerked against the cuffs, yelling as loud as his horse throat would allow. "Leave him alone! Get off!"
Spinning away from his smaller victim, Matt brought the metal bar around, across Spike's shoulders.
Spike cried out, surprised that it was possible to actually hurt more than he already was.
"You shut the hell up, you stupid pig!" Matt yelled at him. "Just for that… you can drown! Or shiver your damn ass to death!" He grabbed Dog by the back of the neck and threw him at the ladder. "Get your butt up there!"
"I'm not leaving him!" Dog protested.
"You go up now, or I'll lock you down here and you can drown with him!"
"Go!" Spike gasped. "Buddy, go! Please! Go!" he pleaded. He didn't know if the tears streaming down his cheeks were from the pain or the rush of fear of that boy dying beside him.
That couldn't happen!
It just couldn't happen!
Please, god, don't let it happen…
"please, Dougy, go, please…" he cried softly, his body finally giving up, leaving him hanging by the wrists from the cuffs.
Dog looked over his shoulder at the man, Matt shoving him in front of him.
"Climb!" Matt snarled.
Closing his eyes, forcing himself not to look, Douglas began to climb. He wondered if the tears streaming down his cheeks were from the water splashed on his face or the rush of fear that he was leaving Spike, his friend, behind to die.
0o0o0o0o0
