The two little runaway moppets climbed through the hole in the chain wire fence and made their way over to the old abandoned boat shed down by the river. The older boy pushed the heavy wooden create obscuring the door and examined the padlock bolting the door shut. He scanned the ground and soon found what he was looking for. Holding up the short piece of discarded wire, he called out to his friend who was huddled on the ground, trying to keep warm, "Neal, get over here and open this."

The youngster took the offered makeshift tool and made quick work of opening the padlock on the door. "Moz you need to wern. I won't walways be awound."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah but in the meantime, don't you dare deny how much you love rubbing it in." Mozzie pushed open the door to reveal a small empty room that would only ever been large enough to house a small row boat. "Wow, this place is going to be perfect!" He removed his glasses and wiped them on his shirt so he could survey the surrounds a little easier. "Make yourself comfy Neal, there's a pair of old overalls on the ground over there you may be able to use as a blanket."

Neal held up the filthy piece of discarded clothing and pulled Sunny in tight, careful not to let him get contaminated by the germ infested material. He tossed the overalls back in the corner and turned to his friend. "I wike my weal bed much bwetter and my froat hurts much morw now."

Mozzie examined the room while he replied. "You'll feel better soon. In the morning, when I go out to get us breakfast, I'll get you something to make your throat feel better, okay?"

"You got money Moz?"

"No but since when has that been a problem for us."

"Since Pweter said we not awoud to steal anymorw."

"What do you think he's going to do about it kid?"

"He's gonna pank you Moz, when he fwinds out."

"Think about what you're saying Neal, he's not going to find out. We don't have to answer to Peter or Elizabeth anymore, now lie down and go to sleep."

Neal lowered himself down onto the hard concrete floor and curled up in a ball. "I can't sweep Moz. Wizzybif wubs my back when I can't sweep."

"Well Elizabeth's not here so unless you're a contortionist you'll just have to go to sleep without a back rub."

"I wiss Wizzybif."

"Elizabeth's got enough to keep her busy without having to worry about us. She's got her new business, she's got a big house to look after, she has Peter…"

"I wiss Pweter."

"Yeah but Peter is happy with the way things are already. He's got Elizabeth, he's got his new job, he's got his puppy."

"I wiss Satchwo."

Mozzie groaned, "Go to sleep already."

The little boy began to shiver, "It's bery cold in heaw Moz."

-W-C-

"Nuh, haven't seen either of them."

"Thanks anyway." Peter placed the two photos back inside his jacket pocket and made his way over to the next group of people all the way over at the opposite end of the park. It was deflating. He'd been looking for four days now and not one person recognised the photos he was flashing around of his two little boys. It was his biggest regret. How many opportunities did he have over the past few weeks to take a more recent photo of the boys? He could have taken a camera to the science center. He could have snapped the boys playing with Satchmo. He could have taken a photo of them when they were sitting in the tree in the backyard with ice-cream dripping all down their chins. He was an experienced investigator and he should have known better. It wasn't like the boys had never run away before and the first thing he'd need for any search would be a recent photo. He removed the two photos, once again, as he approached the next group of youths hanging out in the park. The photos were at least a year old and the boys both had crew cuts at the time the picture was taken. No mops, no tangled curls, no fedora. He hardly recognised them himself, how could anyone else? And what were the boys doing with short hair cuts in the first place. It was like someone had run the clippers with a number three gauge all over their little heads. In his wildest dreams Peter couldn't imagine the boys agreeing to that! In fact, the photos looked more like mug shots than snapshots. Both boys, staring straight at the camera, not a smile to be seen. Peter swallowed the lump in his throat as he approached the young street punks on the skate ramp. He checked his watch. He told El he'd come home and join her for lunch, and then he'd have to head back to the office to work on some actual cases. He scanned the park which backed onto the river. His boys had to be somewhere…but where?

El placed the cake tin into the oven and set the timer. Every day since the boys had disappeared she had made a chocolate cake, just in case. She walked back into the lounge room and passed the elegant bunny rug lying across the back of the arm chair. It was her one regret. She'd bought the bunny rug after Neal's meltdown when Satchmo had eaten the little boy's precious security blanket. She had purchased the blanket with the intention of giving it to Neal when he got into bed that night, but Peter had talked her out of it. He told El, Neal was getting too old for a security blanket and plus, if something should happen to the new bunny rug, then they'd have to go through it all again and neither of them wanted that. So El had reluctantly stored the miniature blanket on a high shelf in the cupboard and forgotten all about it. That was until she thought of her little boys, sleeping out, in some miserable dark dangerous alley, alone, hungry and cold. While she cried out all her tears, she held the bunny rug close to her chest and hoped that they'd come home soon so she could wrap the littlest moppet up in his new 'buggy run.'

-W-C-

Mozzie gave the secret knock and soon after, the solid wooden door was opened by one very sick looking little boy. Neal was pale, his eyes puffy and glazed over, his arms wrapped around his body as he shivered uncontrollably.

"Look kiddo, I got you some of that stuff that Elizabeth gave to you to make you feel better." Mozzie held up a bottle of children's panadol.

"How you get that?"

"Oh you have no idea." The older boy rolled his eyes. "I'll tell you, it would have been easier stealing an Apple iPad Touch."

"Wewr not awoud to steal Moz."

"I know, I know but honestly Neal, do you really think Peter could care less anymore. He's gone back to his life, we've gone back to ours."

Tears began to drip down the little boys face. He sat back down on the mattress Mozzie had acquired and folded his arms over his knees.

"Okay, look. I'm going to pour you out some of this stuff here and then you'll feel a whole lot better." Mozzie squinted at the numbers on the side of the little measuring cup as he poured. "Here, drink this and then I'll go out and get us some lunch."

"No fanks."

"No, you have to drink it. Elizabeth said it's the only way you'll get better."

"Wizzybif not here and I not dwinking it!"

"But Neal, you have to. See, your skin is really hot." Mozzie pressed his free hand against the little boy's forehead.

"Is not. It's fweezing."

"Your skin is really hot, Neal and this bottle says it stops fevers. That's what you have, a fever. Now drink this please."

"No Moz you dwink it!"

Mozzie sighed deeply and pushed up his glasses. "Neal, what did Peter and Elizabeth do to get you to drink this?"

"Ah…Pweter swatted my butt an towld me to just dwink it. You gonna do that Moz?"

"Hell no!" The older boy ran his hand across his face, looking for patience. "Fine, what about Elizabeth?"

"Wizzybif towld me…ah…it's embawassing."

"What did she tell you Neal?" The little boy pretended not to hear. "Tell me, or I'm going to take Sunny and toss him in the river."

"Noooooo!" Neal stuffed Sunny under his shirt. "Wizzybif towld me she would haf to caw ta docta an he would haf ta gib me medcin in …in my bottom if I didn't take it."

"Yeeew! No way man! Surely you must be joking?" Mozzie's face was all screwed up, totally disgusted with the thought. "Honestly Neal, you don't think the mere memory of Elizabeth telling you that horror story is enough of a reason to take this teeny weeny little drop of purple liquid?"

"Fine! I take it Moz but you hab to get me some morw bankets, it's so cold in here."

"Drink it first."

"Okay." Neal tilted back his head and tipped the contents of the medicine cup into his mouth. He looked at Mozzie while his eyes glassed over and watered. His little face turned even more pale than before. He ripped Sunny out from under his shirt and held his tummy as he leaned forward and emptied the contents of his stomach, which wasn't much, all over the concrete floor.

"You okay man?" Mozzie ignored the small liquid puddle on the ground and raced over to wrap an arm around his friend. Neal, between the groans, began to sob. Mozzie held on tight. "Hey kid, what can I get for you to make you feel better? A soda, a nice comfy pillow, what do you need?" The older boy was becoming quite concerned. "Neal, listen, whatever you need I can get for you. Please tell me, what can I get you to make you feel better?"

Neal wiped away the tears as he looked up at his older friend. "Wizzybif."