Hello everyone! Happy Monday!

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"This here is Finch, a nickname, of course, but pay no mind to that," David joked as Finch spun around in his chair to smile at them and give them a small wave. "He's a probie. He was exactly where you guys are six months ago," the former operator explained. "How you liking the job, Finch?" he asked, more for the trainees benefit. He knew this kid loved the job.

"It's definitely the hardest job I've ever had," the boy stated immediately, shrugging a bit. Not really knowing what else to say.

But someone in the middle of the group had a question. "What's the hardest part?" they asked curiously. David leaned back on Finch's desk as the kid bit his lip and thought hard about how to answer.

Finally, he nodded as he found the perfect one. "I guess the not knowing..." His voice was almost sad. David couldn't help but feel his heart tighten. "A lot of times you don't know how it ends," he continued on. "When units get to a scene, you sign off. And they take over but you don't know." They group stayed quiet. Like they were waiting for more. So Finch began to ramble. "I mean, did they make an arrest? Shoot the bad guy? Did the PR live? Did she die-"

David stood up quick. Yes he knew there were those who wouldn't be back tomorrow. But he still wanted to give them all a chance. "You'll get used to it," he stated quickly, motioning for Finch to take another call.

The kid did. "911, where's your emergency?"

Now they were getting somewhere. David was going to show them how it all worked. "Right here's where the PR's phone number comes up," he informed, pointing to one of the three computer screens on the desk. "And the cell's GPS chip allows us to get an exact lat-long coordinate right here on this map." He was hardly listening to Finch's call. It seemed standard enough. "Then over here, he can dispatch the police to the scene at any time," he finished, turning back to the group and smiling at them. "Okay? Any questions?"

"Yeah..." Oh boy, it was Tommy again. David nodded at him. "What about you, Mr. Jacobs?"

David only shrugged. "What about me?"

"How come you're not out here

on the floor?"

Without skipping a beat, without thinking back to that horrid call that had put a stop to him being out on that floor with all of the other soldiers in that room, David responded. "Because I'm the teacher." And he didn't need to say anything else. "Now, why don't you guys follow me this way? I'm gonna get you set up for some calls," he stated, motioning over to the training desks on the corner.

Maybe Tommy would be okay.

Panic was something Race thought he'd felt before. He was known to have panic attacks, especially when he thought he was going to get hit. His mother's ex-husband had made clear sure of that. This poor kid never had a chance of growing up normal. None of them did.

But this threw all of that out the window.

As the boy came to, he couldn't recall what had happened last. He tried to reach out, maybe for Jack, maybe to ask his brother lightly to help bring his racing heart down. Maybe it had been another nightmare. There was never any danger anymore. There hadn't been for years. Not since Jack won. But something felt off. Groaning, the boy pried his eyes open, expecting to wake up in his bedroom that he was supposed to clean last night. Instead, all that greeted him was darkness.

Nerves seemed to take over his entire body as he looked around for a moment. His arms felt heavy and his legs weren't much better. As his vision began to clear, he thought maybe he'd realize it was just too early in the morning.

He was so wrong.

"No... no... no no no no no..." he mumbled out slowly, each syllable becoming more dire and panicked. Loud music met his ears as he realized the ceiling was much too close to his face for it to be the ceiling of an actual room. He couldn't hardly sit up. His head whipped around in every direction, trying to understand what was happening. He couldn't breathe properly. He was in a box of some kind. "No no no no..."

A loud honk gave the situation away. Race jumped, only hitting his head on the top of the small compartment he was trapped in. He was in a trunk. That was when it came back to him.

Panicking wouldn't help him. He knew that. It didn't make it stop. He tried to imagine Jack's voice, his hands running through his hair. It wasn't working. Screaming was out of the question. No one would hear him over the music blasted inside the car. Not that he thought he could scream anyways. He couldn't breathe.

His hands somehow found the solid ceiling above him. Maybe if he hit it hard enough it would break. He was suffocating. He wasn't breathing. This hadn't happened in a long time. Jack wasn't here to calm him down. No one was. Race was alone in the dark and there was nothing here that could save him.

Then something vibrated in his back pocket. Albert... Albert's phone! He had a phone. He could barely move. But he had to. He reached a shaky hand around to his pocket, his body convulsing as he tried to take in short breaths. It was only now that he realized there were tears rushing down his face. He didn't care. But there is one thing he remembered Jack telling him.

Don't call Jack, call 911. Always call 911.

So, Race did what he knew he had to as he knew he was hyperventilating. He hung up the phone, trying to distract himself by thinking about how ridiculous it was that Albert had a phone specifically devoted to his girlfriend. It wasn't working. But he pushed forward anyway, typing in the three numbers that might be the only thing that could get him out of this.

"Please, please, please, please..."

It had almost been a success. These kids were hopeful. David was now sure all of them might come back the next day. "So I think you guys had a good first day. Things are gonna get a little bit harder, though."

They were passing just by Finch's desk. The kid was taking another call.

"911, what's your emergency?" It was supposed to be this way. Finch sounded bored, emotionless. It was something he'd had to work on. They couldn't get attached. That was against the rules. And it was hard as hell. David listened in a little. Finch had been a working progress. The kid had been to The Quiet Room a lot when he'd first started. But he'd come a long way.

Though, nothing could've truly prepared him for this. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Okay, okay! Slow down!" Immediately, David's attention was off his students. He completely zeroed in on his former trainee. "Hey, it's okay! Slow down! I can't understand you!" David gave him a stern look. If the operator sounded panicked, the person on the other end of the line surely wouldn't calm down much. Finch nodded, taking a deep breath and continuing. "Okay... where are you?"

The man took a few steps closer to the station, not wanting to truly step in, but he didn't want to leave Finch like this. Finch had the capability to handle this, it was just a matter of him staying calm. "Okay, what um, what mall are you at? Y-you said he hit you, where did he hit you?" Curiosity got the better of David. He couldn't help but reach for an earpiece, not fully expecting to hear a young panicked voice on the other side.

"N-no! No, he almost hit me!" the person sobbed out, clearly having a difficult time breathing. More than likely, this was a standard panic attack. David used to get plenty of calls like that. He'd have to talk them down, coax them into breathing properly. No big deal.

Finch nodded, hesitation radiating off of him all to easily as he stared at his computer, not quite knowing what to do next. "Oh-Okay... an' where's the vehicle now?"

After a frustrated groan, the person let out even more sobs. "I-I don't know where the vehicle is! I'm in the trunk! I-I'm like in the trunk!" Nothing could've prepared the young man for that.

David's heart stopped for a second. Kidnapping. What made it worse was that, by the sounds of the voice, it was an actual child. If he had to guess, a teenager. In a moment of fear, his eyes rushed around, searching for his supervisor. Darcy was already watching them. That was never a good thing. So David looked back down, only for Finch to look up at him with wide eyes as he pointed at one of the computers in front of him. "David, there's no location," he whispered out, covering the mic so the kid couldn't hear him. There were panicked screams still coming in through the head piece.

"It's a disposable phone. There's no chip," he informed, trying to speak as calmly as he could. "Ask him his name." Not that it was truly working. It would never get easier to accept that people went after children. The kid was hyperventilating.

Again, Finch nodded. "What is your name? What's your name?" he asked, his voice rushed as he tried to figure out what to do next.

"T-Tyler! M'name's Tyler!" the boy cried out, still sounded much too panicked. "Please help me! Pl-please ge'me outta here!"

"Tyler..." Finch repeated, typing the name into the computer, making sure to keep a note of it just as he should've. David nodded in approval before the younger man went back to the boy, trying to calm him down even just a little bit. "Okay, Tyler, you have to calm down..."

Only Tyler was anything but calm. His head was spinning. He was going to pass out. It wouldn't be the first time. He knew how dangerous it was. He needed to breath. He just couldn't. "I'm in a trunk! My phone's gone! I'm using my friend's phone! Why can't you just trace it?!" he sobbed out. He didn't understand. It wasn't supposed to be difficult. They were supposed to stop the bad guys. They were supposed to call Jack so that Jack could come and save him. And he knew banging on the top of the small space would do him no good. That didn't stop him from doing it anyways.

Finch took a deep breath to steady himself. This boy was going to suffocate himself if he wasn't careful. "Tyler... we're... you're on a disposable phone... it's gonna take us a little while to find you-" Someone's hand slammed down on the mute button beside him and Finch jumped. He looked up to see his trainer shaking his head with wide eyes. He wasn't supposed to say that to a panicked PR. He knew that. This was so hard.

"Wh-What?" the child croaked out, suddenly going quiet as the reality of the situation dawned on him. He might not get out of this alive. "You... you can't find me?" He got no reply. No one knew what to say to him. "No... no no no no no, you have ta find me! Please! You have ta get me outta here!" he cried, his sobs coming in fuller and more panicked than ever. "I don' wanna die!"

Looking around, David spotted Darcy, only a few feet away, wondering what on earth was going on in front of a batch of new employees who more than likely couldn't handle things like this on the first day. David did his best not to look at the other man, choosing instead to try and help Finch who looked like he was about to cry. "No, no, Tyler... we will, we're gonna find you-"

"Please! Please just get me outta here!" Race couldn't think. All he could do was scream. He wanted his brother. He needed someone to calm him down. He was going to die. "Please! I don't wanna die! No one comes back from things like this! Please help me!" He felt sick. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"David..." Finch called, sounding helpless and panicked. "David, he's freaking out." Of course he was. He was in the back of a car. He didn't know the driver and he didn't know where he was going and he didn't know if he was gonna make it out alive. But still David hesitated. "What do I do? He won't calm down... I... I don't know what to do..." It was a heartbreaking response. This was a difficult case. They couldn't track the kid, they had no idea who had him and the boy was going to pass out before they had a chance to calm him down. So David shook his head, doing his best to shove the fear to the back of his mind before he held out his hand for the headset and motioned for his coworker to move. Finch did so immediately, standing by, biting down on his thumb nail as he watched his former trainer get used to the job all over again.

The boy was still rambling, his voice quick and flimsy and breathless as sobs rang out over the phone. "You have to find me! I don't wanna die! I don't wanna die..." He was running out of air quick in his state, desperately trying to get them to do something they couldn't do. David took a deep breath and calmed himself before he started speaking.

"Hey... hey, Tyler? Hi, my name's David... I'm gonna help you, alright?" He knew it was always a bad idea to switch a voice on such a traumatized PR. But there really wasn't much else he could do.

"What? I... no..." The child could hardly form a sentence. "No, I w's talkin' to someone else... can you just put me back on with him?" All Tyler wanted was a familiar voice. He just wanted something to calm him down. He put a hand over his eyes, trying in vain to forget that he was in a dark, tiny prison. He pressed down on his eyelids hard, seeing colorful spots dance around in the darkness. It hurt. He didn't care.

Running a hand through his hair, David nodded. "I know, buddy... I know, but I'm gonna help you now, okay?" he coaxed as gently as possible.

Sniffling, the child tried to adjust himself, only letting out a watery groan when the tight space was made clear to him all over again. "Please help me... please... I don't wanna die..."

David's hands shook. It was all too familiar. He still heard that poor boy's voice in his nightmares. "T-Tyler, we are... you are not gonna die..." The desperation began to take David over. He thought he could do this. He couldn't. Not after...

Looking up, he found Darcy, looking at him almost concerned. But when Davey motioned for him to take over, more than likely looking more helpless than he'd ever been in his life, the older man just shook his head. "Breathe..." he whispered. "You got it..." David felt far away. He wanted to run. This boy's life was in his hands. And last time that had happened, he'd lost it. But Darcy nodded, urging him to do something. The boy was sobbing, hysterical and terrified. So David turned back to the screens in front of him. He could do this. He had to do this. A child's life was on the line.

"Okay... okay, okay..." he muttered, letting his ears focus in on the pleas coming through the ear piece. "Tyler?"

A sniffle was heard as the boy must've realized he had to quiet down if they were going to help him. "What?" came the watery reply. A terrified, agonized, desperate question.

"We are gonna find you... alright buddy?" David coaxed, hearing the sobs slow down, even if it was just a little bit. He pushed everything else to the back of his mind. This was the most important thing in the world right now. Nothing else mattered.

Though, his heart sank into his stomach when the boy mustered up the courage to ask another question. "You promise?" he breathed, clearly calming just a little at the mere idea of being found. "Do you promise you're gonna find me?"

The new trainees were still standing behind him, watching David hesitate and close his eyes in despair. He was about to break one of the rules. Something he himself had been told and had enforced never to do. "I... I can promise you this, Tyler... we have the best and the bravest team of people in New York working to find you. We are going to find you." Never make a promise that won't be kept. "But in order for us to find you, we need your help. I need your help," he corrected, his ears filled with the child's panicked gasps of air and his high pitched, terror filled voice. "Can you do that for me, pal?"

Tyler felt his heart clench. The only person who ever called him "pal" was his big brother, along with a whole bunch of other stupid pet names that he'd literally give a kidney to hear him say right now. He wanted his brother more than anyone else in the world. But for now, he supposed David would do. "Okay..." he forced out. "Okay..." He had to breathe. It was hard as hell, but he had to breathe.

"Okay, good boy, Tyler. It's gonna be alright," David praised lightly, allowing himself a small, sad smile as the boy began to calm down a bit. "Okay, the first thing I need you ta do is look around that trunk and see if you can find a release lever, okay? Usually they glow in the dark," he informed, still gentle. As calming as he could be. He couldn't help but wonder if it would be easier if it wasn't a child.

Vaguely, David could hear Darcy barking out quiet orders, trying his best not to be heard by the child locked in a trunk headed to God knows where, not willing to frighten him any further. All he caught was, "'em fax us the EC forms so we can start the trace," and then a much more prominent, "Get these kids out of here!" Thank the Lord for Darcy. David hadn't thought most of those kids would last their first month. Now he doubted any of them would even show up by the end of the week.

Doing as he was told, Tyler looked around, not even realizing he was holding his breath. He felt around for anything that would make the thing open. He just wanted out. "N-no... it doesn't have one of those... I'm sorry..." he told the man on the other end of the line, the panic rushing back through his body.

The operator just nodded to himself. "Okay, that's okay, Tyler," he soothed, hiding his frustration a bit. Whoever this kidnapper was was smart. There had to be some kind of trail here. Something he could do. He read over some notes that Finch had already taken, not stopping to wonder if the younger man was still behind him or not. "What mall were you at when you were abducted?"

Grounding himself was an impossible task. The hand that had been blinding him before now reached up to his hair, fisting itself in his own blond curls as he tried to keep himself from screaming. "Man-Manhattan... Manhattan Mall..." he said, his voice trembling just as his limbs were. "Please get me outta here..."

"Okay, kid, you have to calm down for me... take a really deep breath," David instructed, somehow maintain a cool and collected, casual sounding voice. "What's you last name, Tyler?"

It took Tyler much too long to be able to squeak out his own last name. He wanted his brother so bad. "Kelly..." he choked out. "It's Kelly... please... j'st... my brotha's 're gonna be freaking out!" He was supposed to pick up Charlie from Romeo's house on his walk back home that day. Both of his brothers were going to be confused and angry and scared.

David's eyes widened in realization at that name that hit him like a ton of bricks. "Kelly, like Jack Kelly?" he asked, praying it wasn't true. Praying this was any other boy than the one he knew him to be. But then the response came.

"M-mhm... my-my big brotha'..." Race whimpered out, stress eating him alive, though he almost sounded excited at the name. His head was pounding with panic. His knees hurt from being bent too long. He couldn't move. "Please get him... I want my brotha'... I want Jack..."

"Okay... okay... it's okay, Tyler. I have all your information right here..." the young man soothed, hushing the boy as he tried so hard not to lose focus. This was one of Jack's beloved baby brothers. This was his friend's world he had in his hands right now. Why were the stakes only getting so much higher? "I... I know your brother, Tyler... he calls me Mouth. Does he have a name for you too?"

He couldn't help but stare at the picture on the screen. Tyler James Kelly. Formally Anthony Isaac Higgins. Fifteen years old. Curly blond hair and the bluest eyes David had ever seen in his life. The only thing that reminded the operator of his friend was that smirk that was always present on his face, sitting right there on the boy who'd been raised by him. But there was someone else the child reminded him all to much of.

"R-Racer... Race..." the boy replied. His energy was already beginning to fade. That chemical that had dragged him under before hadn't disappeared. He blinked hard, trying to find something to focus on. All he had really, was a stranger's voice. "I like ta run..." he finished, trying to remember his brother teasing him and calling him that nickname that had followed him since he was five years old.

David laughed a little at that, trying to make the conversation as normal as possible. It always helped calm people down. "Well, I like to talk." Just not right now. Not when the only thing between this boy and his fate was him. Before that other phone call, the pressure hadn't seemed so heavy. Now it was like the world rested on his shoulders. "You wanna know somethin' I know about your brother, Racer?"

"What?" Race asked, feeling his chest lighten just a little bit at the familiar name.

"He's a fighter. I know he taught you to be a fighter too..." David urged. He'd known Jack for years. They hadn't really been close until out of college. But that man was strong as hell, physically, mentally, emotionally. He had to be after all the shit life had thrown at him. Parents divorcing, obvious abuse, two half brothers from his mother's affairs being thrown into his lap when he was barely thirteen. Jack's life had been anything but private. And he didn't care. He came through it stronger than ever. David could only pray Tyler had half that drive in him. "You gotta fight for him, Tyler. Fight to get back to him... can you do that?"

"Yes!" Race cried out, feeling his entire being screaming to just get back to Jack. They fought so hard to be together. He just wanted to get out. He wanted Jack. "Yes! I want Jack!"

"Okay, okay, good boy, Tyler," David sighed out, bringing up the notes on his computer. He could do this. This wasn't going to be so bad. Maybe it would all be okay.

Maybe he could do this.

I'm so sorry.

As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, friends!