Chapter Twenty-Five – Going to Be Okay

"Willow?" Thompson asked. The small girl was sitting on the floor with some toys in front of her. She did not react to Thompson entering the room.

"Willow?" Thompson asked again, gently. He sat down across from her and waited. Slowly, Willow looked up to meet his eyes.

"My name is Jeffery," Thompson told her. "Would it be all right if I talked to you?"

Willow lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug before looking back to the toys. She picked up a little doll in one hand, and a GI Joe with the other.

Thompson remained silent, watching her. He didn't want to start questioning her right away; it would probably be better to let her get used to his presence first.

Willow moved the GI Joe's arms forward. She pushed him towards the doll, and mimicked it being carried away by the other toy. Holding the two toys in one hand, she crawled over to the wall and set them down. She pressed the doll's hands against the wall, and wiggled it, as though the doll was trying to move but remained bound to the wall.

"Is the girl stuck to the wall?" Thompson asked. Willow nodded. "Why is she stuck?"

Willow held up her arm, with her other hand wrapped around her wrist. She shook her arm violently, but refused to release her grip on her wrist.

"And who is this girl?" Thompson asked, indicating the doll. The little girl didn't reply. "Is her name Willow?" Thompson asked. He received a nod in reply.

"What about this guy?" Thompson asked, indicating the GI Joe. "What's he doing?"

Willow held up her thumb and pinkie finger, the other fingers pulled down. She put her hand next to the GI Joe's head.

"He used the phone?" Thompson asked. Willow nodded. "Then what happened?"

Willow crawled over to the toy box and began digging through it. Thompson repressed a frustrated sigh. He was sure that Willow was re-enacting her own kidnapping through the toys, but she hadn't yet told him anything he didn't already know. He sat watching Willow dig through the toy box, wondering how to coax her into continuing to tell him what happened.

However, it turned out that he didn't need to. Willow crawled back over with a Ken doll. She picked the GI Joe up and wrapped the Ken doll's arms around its neck. She pushed the arms as tight as they would go, and held it for a moment. Then she dropped the GI Joe and flipped him over so that he was face-down.

Thompson swallowed his horror. There was no doubt in his mind as to what Willow was telling him she had seen. She had made the toys re-enact the whole scene with a blank expression on her face.

She moved the Ken doll over to where the doll remained against the wall. She mimed the doll's hands being freed by the Ken doll. Then she brought the doll's hands to her eyes, and began moving them from the eyes down the cheeks.

"Is she crying?" Thompson asked. Willow nodded. "Why is she crying?"

Willow dropped the doll to cover her own eyes with her hands. "Is she scared?" Thompson asked, getting angrier by the second, but forcing himself to remain calm. Willow confirmed his guess by nodding.

She then reached over and grabbed a wicker basket. Turning it upside down, she dumped its contents onto the floor and set it down by the dolls. She used the Ken to force the baby doll into the basket. Then she placed the Ken doll inside too, waving its arm at the baby doll.

At first Thompson thought that Willow was saying that the man had hit her… but the Ken doll's hand never made contact with the baby doll. Then he thought he understood. The man was threatening her.

"What is the man saying?" Thompson coaxed. "What is he telling the girl she has to do?"

Willow dropped the dolls again to place a finger over her lips.

"She has to keep a secret?" Thompson guessed.

Willow shook her head, and clamped both of her hands over her mouth.

Now he understood. "She's not allowed to talk?"

Willow nodded. She dropped her hands and stared into the basket at the dolls, but made no move to pick them up again. She had told Thompson everything she was willing to.

"Willow," Thompson said, choosing his words carefully. "The girl doesn't have to stay quiet anymore." He reached into the basket and picked the doll up. "She's not trapped anymore; she's safe now. She's safe because Jeffery won't let that man go near her anymore." He set the doll down next to a teddy bear, and reached for the Ken doll. "If the man tries to come near her, Jeffery and his friends will protect her."

Thompson moved the Ken doll towards them, and moved the teddy bear in front of the baby doll. He then reached for two more teddy bears which he used to bring down the Ken doll. "The man will be put in jail and he won't be allowed to scare Willow anymore." Thompson dropped the Ken doll into the wicker basket.

Willow had watched the toys carefully. She was now shaking her head, clearly still frightened.

"You don't have to be scared, Willow," Thompson assured her. "The man won't hurt you. I won't let him."

She looked as though she was teetering on the edge of speaking, but something was still making her hold back.

"It's okay, Willow," Thompson repeated.

"You can't tell him I told!" Willow croaked, her voice breaking whether from lack of use or from emotion Thompson couldn't tell.

"Willow-"

"He said he'd kill my Mommy and Daddy if I talkeded! He said he'd kill them like the other man! I wasn't gonna tell anything about him, I wasn't! I just talkeded to Mrs. O'Donnell a little. I didn't think he'd know, but he must've finded out, 'cause when my Daddy came to the house… the man killed Mommy and it's all my fault!" Willow sobbed.

Thompson was utterly confused as to how Willow had gotten from her Daddy being at the house to her mother being dead. Had Kirk told her that? He severely doubted it.

"Willow, your Mommy isn't dead," Thompson assured her. Carol Kirk was very much alive, living on Staten Island with her sister. Thompson had no idea why Willow thought she was dead.

"But… b-but I thoughted she must be," Willow sobbed.

"Why would you think that?" Thompson asked. "Did someone tell you that?"

"No, but Daddy, I heard him say once that he'd go crazy if Mommy died… and, and he was being like he was gone crazy 'cause he shot Mr. O'Donnell and Mrs. O'Donnell even said he was crazy. So I was thinking, Daddy went crazy 'cause Mommy was dead and Mommy was dead because the man killed her because he finded out I talked to Mrs. O'Donnell. And now he's gonna kill my Daddy 'cause I talkeded to you!"

"No Willow, that's not going to happen," Thompson said, his heart breaking for the sobbing girl in front of him. "The man didn't kill your Mommy; your Mommy is coming here to get you! You didn't do anything wrong, sweetheart."

"Really?" Willow asked, hardly daring to believe him.

"Yes, Willow," Thompson assured her.

"But then... why did Daddy go crazy?"

Thompson didn't know what to say to that. How could he possibly explain, especially to a four-year-old who had already been through so much? Instead he simply repeated, "It's going to be okay, Willow. Everything is going to be okay."

"Are you sure you're alright, Logan?" Fernandez asked. "You don't look too good."

Mike shifted in his seat, trying not to wince at the pain it caused. "I'm fine," he told his partner.

"I don't believe you," she said, glancing over at him anxiously.

"Would you just concentrate on the road!" Mike snapped. "I'll worry about myself later."

"Sure you will," she muttered sarcastically.

"Look, my concern right now is for Goren, Eames, and especially for Rebecca."

"You're not going to be of much use to any of them if you kill yourself chasing them," Fernandez countered.

"Fernandez…"

"Just drink some water, would you?" she asked.

"Drink some water?" Mike echoed.

"Keep your fluids up," she informed him. "Water, Logan. In my bag." She indicated the carry-on that she had thrown carelessly into the backseat.

Mike turned to look at it. With a small sigh, he gritted his teeth in preparation for the burning pain as he reached into the backseat to grab her bag.

He pulled the water bottle out, white as a sheet, and took a sip. "Happy?" he demanded once he could breathe properly again.

"Not particularly," she replied. "I'd be happier if you were checked into a hospital – I know, I know," she said, anticipating his reaction. "I get that your friends need you."

They were silent for a full five minutes, which Mike reflected was probably the longest Fernandez had ever gone without speaking, when she turned the wheel violently. "That's it," she stated unnecessarily.

Mike unglued himself from the window. "It looks like an abandoned warehouse. And look! There's a car here."

"Eames?" Fernandez asked.

"Can't be sure," Mike replied, getting out.

"We should probably approach with caution," Fernandez said. "Hey!" she called after her partner. "Caution, I said! Damn it!" she swore, racing after Mike. He had already reached the door, surprisingly steady for the amount of blood he had lost.

Mike reached for the door handle, but stopped to press his hand against the wound instead. The pain his motion had caused made bright lights dance across his vision.

"I've got it," Fernandez said, grabbing the handle and eyeing her partner with concern. She pulled it open, allowing the two detectives to enter with their guns ready.

"This is the police!" Fernandez called.

"Smooth," Mike muttered. Since his partner had already effectively warned anyone in the building of their presence, he also threw caution to the winds. "Alex?" he called. "Are you here?"

"Mike?" came the astonished reply.

Mike located the place her voice was coming from – a door straight across from the door they had entered through. "Alex?" he asked again.

"The door is mechanical, I can't open it from this side," Alex told him.

Mike seized the handle and turned it. "Logan, maybe I should do it," Fernandez said. She pushed him aside to grab the heavy metal door herself. Mike backed off only because he knew that he probably couldn't get it open in his current state anyway.

Fernandez pulled the door open and was barely able to step aside in time as Alex hurtled past her. "Did you see where the other car went?" she demanded.

"Other car?" Fernandez echoed.

"No we didn't," Mike said, following her with a staggering gait.

Fernandez grabbed her partner's arm to help keep him upright. "You are in no state to continue," she told him.

"I'm fine," he said, shaking her off. He regretted the rough movement as the world began spinning rapidly around him. Fernandez seized his arm again, pulling it over her shoulders.

Alex had returned to the warehouse. "Mike…" she trailed off at the sight of him.

"I'm fine" he said, before she could ask. She hesitated, clearly torn between wanting to do something for him and wanting to continue her search.

"Why don't you try calling Logan's lady friend?" Fernandez asked. She turned to shove her partner down onto a stack of wooden skids sitting outside the warehouse.

"Carolyn might be able to tell you something," Mike agreed, shooting an irritated glance at his partner for her description of Carolyn. "The other cops should have reached her now; maybe if the two of you share information you'll be able to figure out if where Rebecca is." He then turned to Fernandez again. "Did you think adding splinters to my ass would help distract me from the pain in my gut?"

"I just didn't want you passing out on me," his partner replied.

Mike suddenly remembered what Alex had said as she rushed out of the building. "Alex," he asked, "did you see the person who took the other car?"

"Jonas Slaughter," Alex replied, pulling out her phone to call Carolyn. "Jonas Slaughter and Rebecca were here."