Never mind Blag wiping out Jeff's computer, something decided to wipe out mine yesterday! So for anyone who had realised I update every 6 days, I'm sorry I'm late with this! I literally couldn't turn the computer on, bit of a worrying moment. Especially as I should be doing essay prep... But it is all good now, nothing to worry about! :)

Jeff wanted to scream. And stamp his feet in the way Alan still could. He had spent nearly the whole day with lawyers, trying to establish the best way of giving Blag what he wanted without risking Scott. At the same time, Jeff needed some sort of loophole through which he could pull out legally the moment he had his son back in his arms. As the lawyers had bickered amongst themselves as to the best course of action, Jeff had decided to risk phoning the police, although warning them it had to be carried out with complete secrecy. The man on the other end of the phone had agreed and told Jeff that he was sending his officers around to the house to question the boys and try to establish what had happened.

"Gentlemen," Jeff suddenly declared, standing up and forcing them to break off in their conversation. "This isn't helping my son, nor is it helping me. I'm going back home, I need to be with my boys."

"Of course, Mr. Tracy, we understand. And may I just…"

Walking out on the man before he could express his fake sympathy, Jeff rolled his neck slowly as he made his way back to the car, trying to alleviate some of the tension. He had heard nothing from Blag all day, and more than anything that scared him. He wasn't sure quite what lengths the man would go to, but by the way he had casually struck Scott the night before, Jeff didn't want to risk it. Only John had been awake when Jeff left the house that morning, already tapping away frantically on the laptop as if hoping he would somehow discover where his brother was hidden. Whilst he didn't want the boy to get any false hope, Jeff didn't bother trying to stop him, knowing himself that if he wasn't doing something that might potentially bring Scott back to them, he would go mad.

Jeff could honestly say that he paid no attention to the road at all on the way home, something he knew his mother would have his hide for if she found out. It wasn't just his sons Jeff wanted to get home to, he was seriously worried about the effect this was having on the old woman; she wasn't exactly in her prime any more. The only good thing about not paying much attention, despite the fact it was a miracle he made it home in one piece, was that the journey was relatively quick compared to normal, meaning Jeff was soon through his front door and almost being flattened as Gordon miserably hurled himself at his father, tears trickling down his face. The redness and puffiness of his eyes made Jeff inwardly groan, this had obviously been one hell of a screaming fit. The redhead had always been the worst of them when expressing something he didn't like. However, a gut feeling caused Jeff to frown. He had a strange feeling Gordon's misery wasn't entirely based on Scott's absence.

"Hey champ," Jeff began softly, hitching Gordon into his arms and carrying him through to the lounge before settling them both down on the sofa, absentmindedly wondering where the rest of the boys were.

"What's the matter with my little fish?"

"Don't like them," Gordon pouted, nestling further into his father's arms. Frowning at the top of the copper head sticking out from his arm, Jeff couldn't stop the wave of confusion.

"Don't like who, Gordy?"

"Policeman," The youngster mumbled, involuntary shuddering. Jeff felt the tremor and automatically tightened his arm around his son, but he needed to find out what this truly was about.

"Gordon, you know they are here to help Scotty, don't you? They are going to help us bring your big brother home."

"But they were mean about him, Daddy. And John nearly hit him." Giggling slightly to himself as he remembered the actions of the furious John, Gordon didn't see Jeff's reproachful look.

"And where is John?" Gordon, however, merely shrugged, snuggling closer into his father, needing the reassuring embrace. Picking Gordon up again, Jeff balanced him on his hip, noting how John wasn't the only one to have gotten heavy over the last year, and set off in search of his second oldest. He knew John was taking this hard, but even so, lashing out was not the behaviour he normally related to the calmest of his sons. Scott, yes, even Virgil, perhaps. But John? Never.

Having a sixth sense of where his son might be, Jeff located the boy within a matter of seconds, still working away on the laptop.

"John?"

"Hey, Dad," John muttered, his hoarse voice the only indicator that Gordon had not been the only one crying. Frowning at the back of the blond head, Jeff carefully put Gordon down.

"Go and find your grandmother, Gords," he instructed, giving his son a small nudge at the same time and sending the boy scurrying towards the bottom of the stairs. He obviously had more clue as to where to find the old woman than Jeff did.

"What do I hear about you nearly hitting a police officer, John Glenn Tracy?" Jeff asked, the warning all too clear in his voice. Immediately stiffening, John turned to face his father, fury blazing out of his eyes in a way Jeff had never witnessed before.

"He deserved it. First of all, he wouldn't let me stay with Gordon when they tried to question him. So I left, only to hear Gordon scream five seconds later. I go back in there and see one of them trying to pick him up for absolutely no reason. Well, you know how Gordon feels about strangers touching him. We finally got through that and they decided they were going to question me next. They asked all sorts of weird questions, Dad, nothing to do with Scott. And then…" His voice breaking off, John glanced away, misery taking the place of the fury. His own anger beginning to melt at both John's explanation and the misery, Jeff gently prompted his son for more. Meeting his father's gaze, John didn't try to hide the tears now pooling out of his eyes.

"And then they said some horrible things about Scott. What…what they were probably doing to him. What they would be prepared to do." Staring at his son in astonishment, Jeff truly didn't know what to say. This was not the sort of situation he had been expected to come home to.

"Where are they now?" Jeff asked, making John look properly at him for the first time. Jeff's eyes were hard and bright, anger spiralling out of them in a way that overtook even John's.

"Questioning Virg. He was there when…when it happened."

"Where?" Jeff questioned, determined to stop the officers from upsetting another son, if it wasn't too late. He had hoped calling the police would help matters, not make them worse.

"They've taken over the kitchen," John responded tonelessly, sorrow radiating out of his eyes as the anger disappeared. Just as Jeff made to walk out of the study, a loud crash resonated through the house, causing him to trade confused glances with John. Without a word, father and son went pelting through the house, skidding to a stop outside the kitchen door. Pushing against the wood, Jeff frowned when it refused to budge, obviously having been barricaded. As another crash sounded, followed by a muffled yell, Jeff yanked John out of the way, backed up a few paces and threw himself at the door, causing the aged wood to groan in protest but open enough to allow the two Tracys access to the room beyond.

"Virgil!" John yelled in horror as he followed his father in and caught sight of the predicament his younger brother was in. One of the `officers` was holding tightly onto the struggling boy, one hand clamped firmly over his mouth, explaining the muffled sound from before. The other had been in the process of tying the boy's hands with his belt when Jeff burst in, but now he drew back, smoothly removing his gun. Aiming it at the terrified boy, the officer glared at Jeff, his meaning clear. His jaw clenched in fury, Jeff pushed John behind him, shielding him not only from the supposed officers, but from whatever was going to happen next.

"He told you not to call the police or he would come from the others."

"Let. My. Son. Go!" Jeff snarled in fury, his eyes narrowed and calculating. As the man flicked the safety off on the weapon, Jeff froze, his heart pounding so hard it hurt.

"Please…" he whispered, hands trembling. This couldn't be happening. First Scott and now Virgil?

"That's what your son begged as well," the man sneered, watching closely as Jeff paled. "Right before we drugged him and dragged him back to Blag, screaming for his Daddy the whole time."

Laughing at the mixture of emotions on Jeff's face, the man signalled to his colleague and the two of them began to side step around him, pulling Virgil with them. His breathing coming fast and shallow, Jeff waited until they had reached the hallway before he sprinted after them, colliding headlong with the one holding the gun, who had been foolish enough to turn his back on the kitchen door. Wrestling furiously with the man, Jeff had just managed to wrench the gun away from him when he heard Virgil cry out.

His head shooting up, Jeff just about caught sight of his son flying through the air towards him before Virgil crashed into his father, sending them both flying backwards. Using his body to protect Virgil from the impact, Jeff quickly rolled them over; making sure his boy was shielded from the men. With one grasp, he pulled the belt away from Virgil's hands before spinning back to face the men, his heart in his mouth when he saw the first had reached his gun again. A deathly silence fell over them as the three men glared at each other. Jeff could feel Virgil trembling behind him and wanted nothing more than to pound into the men who had this effect on his child, but he knew that by moving he was leaving Virgil open to them, something he refused to do. Nothing was said until a small voice broke through…

"Daddy?" Jeff had never whipped his head around as quickly as he did now, fear pumping through him. Unfortunately for him, the men had also caught sight of a figure at the end of the stairs.

"GORDON, RUN!" But in typical seven year old style, the child simply froze, looking with wide eyes at the gun now pointing at him. Then, simultaneously, two things happened at once.

The gun went off.

John threw himself out of the kitchen door, flying across the stairs and so sheltering his little brother.

"JOHN!"

"NO!"

Erm...ops? Let me know what you thought? And don't kill me! :)