Author's Note: Ponderoso, yes, I got the names for the detectives from SVU. It's another one of my fave shows and a show I've written other fanfic for in the past. They aren't the same characters, but I like to use names from other stuff I like. If you remember, I had a detective Stabler during Mike's courtroom dream. :D

Chapter 20: Wired

Davy sat in the dark room in the police station for what seemed like forever. He was starting to go a little crazy. He'd long since finished writing out his statement of what had happened over the last several days and had even gone over it several times to make sure he hadn't left anything out. But now all he had to focus on was the dilemma facing himself and his friends. He still hadn't been able to find out if they were ok or not. And since that was all he could think about, his mind raced feverishly with possibilities of what could have happened. Not to mention his friends had no idea what had happened to him, so even if they were ok, they'd be worried sick about him. Davy jumped a little when the door opened and the two detectives walked back in.

"Well?" Davy asked. "Do you believe me now?"

"It's not that we didn't believe you before, Mr. Jones," Detective Munch said. "We just had to verify information first."

"Sure seemed like you didn't believe me," Davy answered.

"A lot of cops don't believe your story," Detective Benson answered. "But we do. I have a friend in the FBI who has been looking into the Tork family for years, but he hasn't been able to get anything to stick."

"That's because they keep bribing or blackmailing their way out of trouble," Detective Munch added. "Or evidence just plain…disappears. And what worries me is that they'll be able to do the same here."

"So we need as much from you as we can, as well as their cooperation so we needed to make it seem as though we believe them over you," Detective Benson said. "We have a forensics team sweeping your house, the warehouse and the motel you told us about. So far we came up short."

"Was anyone at the house?" Davy asked. "Peter's brother was there and he got knocked out."

"No, the house was empty I'm afraid," Detective Munch answered. "The only ones we have a trace on right now are Mrs. Tork and Mr. Nesmith. And he wasn't supposed to leave Texas until the re-trial for the murder of his wife, so his bail has been revoked and he's going to be shipped back to Texas in handcuffs."

"Good," Davy said.

"We need a few things from you and your friends if we're going to make any charges stick," Detective Benson said.

"Anything," Davy answered.

"We want to put a wire on you and let you go," Detective Munch said. "We'll also let her go and let it slip where you are. She should follow you there and whatever she says will be recorded."

"What if she kills me?" Davy asked. "She wants to kill me."

"Yes, that's why we want you to wear the wire," Detective Benson said. "And Detective Munch and I will be right there witnessing everything, so we'll stop her before she even gets a chance to lay a finger on you."

"If you can get her to say as many things as you can to incriminate herself before we arrest her, that would be even better," Detective Munch said. "But we are only going to do this with your consent."

"What about my friends?" Davy asked. "What if she tries to go after them instead of me?"

"I doubt she'll do that," Detective Benson said. "She knows they are at the hospital and they're guarded. You'll be an easier target."

"She'll try and use you to get to what she really wants," Detective Munch said. "Which, according to your story, is her daughter and her son."

"So all we have to do is let it slip that you are going to check on her daughter somewhere and she should follow you," Detective Benson added.

"Like a lamb to the slaughter," Detective Munch said. Davy stared at him for a second. "Figuratively speaking anyway."

"Do you want to go through with this?" Detective Benson asked with a laugh in Detective Munch's direction.

"You're sure my friends are going to be safe?" Davy asked.

"There are two officers stationed outside Peter's room and two more outside Mike's," Detective Benson said.

"What about Micky?" Davy asked fear gripping him when they failed to mention Micky.

"I'm afraid we don't have any information on him," Detective Munch said. "Last we heard, Mike and Peter were sleeping and recovering from concussions and lacerations, but Micky is still in surgery. We don't know any more than that right now. But if he comes out of surgery, we will post two officers outside his room as well."

"When," Davy corrected firmly. "When he comes out of surgery." Detectives Benson and Munch looked at Davy with pity in their eyes.

"Yes, 'when'," Detective Munch answered trying to offer a comforting smile to Davy. Davy's heart sank a little. Did they know something about Micky they weren't telling him? Was there a chance Micky wouldn't make it out of surgery? And if he was still in surgery, he'd been in there for hours already; surely that wasn't a good thing. He forced himself to focus his mind on what the detectives wanted him to do. There was no way he was going to let these people get away with what they had done to his friends. He would do everything he could to make sure they got what was coming to them. He would do everything he could to make sure they went to jail; whether Micky was alive to see justice or not.

"I'll do whatever you need me to," Davy answered.

"Just sign this waiver," Detective Benson said sliding a paper across the table to Davy. He looked it over and realized it was a waiver of liability in case of injury or death. "Don't worry; it's a formality. We won't let anything happen to you. We'll be right there behind you." Davy didn't really care that much, anyway. He would do whatever it took to make sure his friends stayed safe now. He signed the document and passed it back to the detectives.

"Alright," Detective Munch said. "What we're going to do stand next to the interview room she is in and make sure the door is open a crack so she can overhear us talking. We'll say that we had no choice but to set you free for lack of evidence and that you went to a cabin on the mountain north of here off Zuma road. Do you know where that is?"

"Yes," Davy answered. "But how do I get there? I don't have a vehicle anymore."

"Yes, that dune buggy is not street legal, but there's a car waiting for you out front," Detective Munch answered. "It's already wired and has a camera in it as well. Try and park the car so it's facing the road. The camera is on the dash pointing forward."

"Got it," Davy answered as he took a set of car keys from the detective. Then the two detectives went to retrieve the wire he would wear. When they came back, they instructed him to take off his shirt so they could tape it to his chest. He felt very uncomfortable being shirtless and having two strange sets of hands touching him, but what was more uncomfortable was the tape they used. He was just glad that he didn't really have any hair on his chest knowing how much worse it could be. Once they'd fixed the wire to him firmly, he made his way out of the police station toward the car that was waiting for him out front and drove off to the cabin. The whole drive there, he was silently praying that this worked.

When he got there, he silently waited a few moments until he heard a car coming up the dirt road leading to the cabin. From the sound of it, the car was moving at quite a fast rate of speed, leaving no doubt who it was in Davy's mind. As he got out of the car, he saw a rustling in the bushes nearby and assumed that it was one, if not both, of the detectives who swore they'd be right there to keep him safe. Thinking of Mike, Peter and Micky and all that they'd done for him over the years, he summoned up all the strength and courage he had and started walking towards the cabin. Sure enough, a second later, the car that had been chasing him and his friends earlier rounded the corner at a very high rate of speed. Once Peter's mother realized she'd found Davy, she slammed on the brakes causing a cloud of smoke and dirt to rise up in Davy's face. He coughed and tried to wave it away, but there was too much.

"How did you find me?!" Davy exclaimed trying to play along as she got out of the car. She advanced toward him, but he backed away.

"Never mind that," she answered. "You cost me my chance at my son. But you've led me right to my daughter."

"Are you going to kill her?" Davy asked.

"She doesn't exactly leave me much of an option, now does she?" she sneered.

"Sure, you could turn around and go home and forget all about this," Davy offered, though he highly doubted she would ever do that.

"You're an idiot," she spat. "No wonder you're friends with Peter." She was now only a few feet away from Davy and he wanted to try and push one last confession out of her.

"I'm friends with Peter because he's a much better person than you are," Davy spat letting the rage boil inside him he'd been trying to suppress to keep himself calm and collected. "He's honest and caring and he doesn't go around stabbing and torturing people! You kidnapped and stabbed my best friend just to find your daughter who wasn't even going to say a word against you. You hurt innocent people just so you could get revenge? You are a downright evil person and I'm glad Peter ended up nothing like you!"

"Actually, I didn't stab your friend," she said with a sick smile. "Percy did, but I have no issues killing you right now." And with that she lunged for Davy who quickly ducked and tried to roll out of the way. He heard twigs popping and leaves crunching as Detectives Benson and Munch emerged from the bushes with their guns drawn and pointed at Peter's mom. Davy ran as they shouted at her to freeze and that she was under arrest, but she grabbed Davy by the back of the shirt and threw him to the ground. He landed in a mud puddle and slipped down the side of the cliff. He tried to reach out for a branch or rock or something, but nothing helped. He tumbled all the way down and hit his head on an exposed tree root at the bottom. Now it was his turn to have his world fill with darkness.

Davy sat on his bed in his room reading a book for English class. It wasn't a very interesting book, but Davy had to read 2 chapters for school the next morning, so there he sat. He was halfway through the first chapter, when he heard a familiar sound down the hallway: his mother throwing up in the toilet. He rolled his eyes and turned on the some music to block out the noise. He was able to sit there for another hour reading and listening to his music before he was interrupted again. This time it was a loud pounding on his door. He jumped at the loud noise and looked at the door to see it actually shaking in the frame; any harder, and the person would have busted right through the door.

"Turn that racquet down, boy, and get out here!" he heard his father yell through the door. He must have just come home after having been out. Davy sighed and turned his radio off before opening the door.

"What?" Davy asked a little more spitefully than he'd intended.

"What!?" his father echoed. "Where's your mother, that's what!?"

"I don't know," Davy answered. "She was home an hour ago, but I'm not exactly her keeper." Davy was about to say it was supposed to be the other way around, but bit his tongue when he saw his father rear his arm back ready to strike him. For some reason, however, he didn't. He seemed to force himself to relax and put his arm back down.

"Get out here," his father barked. "There's someone I want you to meet." Davy followed his father into the living room and saw a man sitting on their couch with a briefcase sitting on his lap. The man looked very uncomfortable. At that moment, his mother walked out of the hallway looking very disheveled and unkempt. Or rather stumbled. She shoved a handful of money into her back pocket. A very happy looking man followed her out and when he saw the other men in the house, darted out as fast as he could. Once again, Davy rolled his eyes.

"Oh, hello," his mother said when she saw the stranger on the couch. "Was that meeting today?"

"Yes, Brittany," Davy's father barked. "I told you twice this morning and three times last night."

"Is this the boy?" the man asked looking at Davy.

"Yes," his father answered ignoring his mother now. "What do you think?"

"He is still very small, isn't he," the man said inspecting Davy like a piece of meat.

"I'm not that small!" Davy protested even though he was very unsure why this man was inspecting him like this.

"Hush, boy," his father barked.

"You are just small enough to fit in the tight spaces I need you in, boy," the man said. Davy was taken aback. What was this man talking about?

"So how much you want for him?" his mother asked.

"Wait, what?" Davy asked. "Are you trying to sell me to this man?! You must be joking!"

"Shut up!" his father barked at Davy and this time he did hit Davy so hard across the face that Davy fell to the ground.

"Now, now," the man said. "I don't pay for anything broken."

"You're seriously trying to sell me to this man?" Davy sputtered on the ground holding his cheek. He was so livid with his parents he didn't care what he was saying.

"We aren't trying to sell you, idiot," his mother sneered at him. "You're going to work for him."

"You just asked him how much I was worth!" Davy yelled.

"Yes, you aren't going to work for free," his father snapped.

"Oh heaven forbid I do manual labor for free," Davy spat icily. "But I won't be the one being paid. You will."

"You are underage," his mother said. "What are you going to do with the money anyway?"

"Well, I'm certainly not going to let you buy beer and drugs with money I earn!" Davy yelled and pushed himself off the ground before racing for the door. He didn't make it far down the hallway before his father grabbed him by the back of the shirt and yanked him up off his feet.

"Where do you think you're going, you little-" his father bellowed but was cut off by a new voice.

"Put the boy down!" someone ordered. Davy and his father looked around in confusion and saw a swarm of men coming toward them with guns and police badges around their necks or clipped to their belts. Davy had never been more relieved to see a group of police officers in his life. "Police! Put the boy down now!" Davy's father immediately let go and put his hands in the air. Davy tumbled to the ground, but didn't wait for what would happen next; he took off running towards the group of officers. One of them holstered her gun and picked Davy up and carried him off to a waiting ambulance.

"The mother and broker are in the house," Davy heard one of the other officers say as Davy was carried away. "Arrest them and anyone else you find in there."

"Are you alright, son?" the female police officer who'd grabbed him asked him when she placed him in the back of the ambulance.

"Fine," Davy said. "What's going on?"

"We are arresting your parents," she answered.

"I got that, but why?" Davy asked. "I mean, why now? My parents have been drunks and drug addicts my whole life? Why now?"

"We received a tip that your parents were trying to do something bad to you," she answered.

"You mean sell me to that man?" Davy asked. "How did you find out about that? I didn't even know about that until just now."

"We got a tip from someone who heard negotiations between him and your father," she answered. "We have plenty of evidence to charge them with labor trafficking. You don't have to worry about anything now."

"What's going to happen to me?" Davy asked.

"We're going to try and contact some family and see if they can take you until we figure out a permanent solution."

"My grandfather. He's been trying for years to take me away. Call him." Davy gave the officer his grandfather's contact information and waited while she called him. He absently rubbed a sore spot on his face where his father had hit him until the cop came back.

"Alright, I got a hold of your grandfather and he's going to meet you at the hospital," she said.

"I'm fine," Davy argued. "I don't need a hospital."

"Standard procedure, honey," she said. "You've got a nice bruise developing on your face and your father was just holding you about 3 feet in the air. We just need to make sure everything is ok." Davy finally relented and let them take him to the hospital where he spent about 2 hours being fussed over by doctors and nurses. His grandfather came in a couple hours after he got there and Davy and his grandfather shared a hug that seemed to last forever. It made Davy finally feel at ease and safe and he didn't want to let go.

"How are you, son?" his grandfather asked.

"I'm fine, Grandpa," Davy answered. "Did they tell you what happened?"

"Yes," he answered. "I'm so sorry, David."

"It's not your fault," Davy answered. "Don't be sorry. But what happens now?"

"Now you're going to come live with me," his grandfather answered. "The officer in charge of the case has already started the paperwork for me to officially become your guardian. Once they medically clear you from here, I'll be taking you home."

"And what happens to Mom and Dad?" Davy asked.

"They're going to jail," his grandfather answered. "I don't know for how long. The prosecutor on the case has to decide what to charge them with based upon the evidence and then file charges. But because of what they did, they lost custody of you."

"So I'm going to live with you from now on?" Davy asked cheerfully. Finally he wouldn't have to worry about coming home and finding his parents passed out or anything like that. He could finally live his life happily.

"You can live with me as long as you want, David," his grandfather answered with a smile. For the first time in his life, Davy finally felt safe and happy. And truly loved.