Richie was asleep in a darkened room, propped up on his side by a few pillows, facing away from the door when Dr. Lindsey led Duncan and Tessa into his room.

"Is he okay?" Tessa asked. She could see Richie's spine through his skin where his gown was open in the back.

"He's a little dehydrated and malnourished. But unless there are complications in the next few days, I think he's going to be just fine."

"That's it?" Duncan asked. "So just a few days with an IV and he'll be good as new?"

"Well, there are other things we're treating him for, as well," Dr. Lindsey said.

"What else is there? Did they hurt him?"

"There is no evidence of any sort of abuse. Physical or sexual. That's not to say at some point he didn't get a few bumps or bruises, but there were none when we examined him."

"So what's wrong?"

"What happened to his hair?" Tessa asked. She had gone over to Richie's bedside to look him over herself. His curls were gone. His hair was so short, she could barely tell it was there.

"He was pretty dirty when he was brought in. He had lice and fleas in his hair, we had to cut it."

"What's on his face?"

Dr. Lindsey smiled. "Acne. He did get a few knicks when we shaved him, but it's nothing serious."

"What else?" Duncan asked.

"He has a few bed sores, that's why he's on his side. We have those cleaned and bandaged. He also has quite a rash on his buttocks and genitals, which we are treating as well."

"A rash?"

"Prolonged contact to fecal matter."

Duncan nodded and Tessa stroked Richie's pimpled cheek. Richie groaned and moved away. Tessa frowned and took her hand back.

"Anything else?"

Dr. Lindsey got Richie's chart off the foot of his bed and looked it over. "No other injuries. We do have him hooked up to the IV for hydration and nourishment; it also has antibiotics to ward off any infections. We have him sedated and he should be waking up in about eight hours, depending on how tired he is. He's not strong enough to get himself to the bathroom, so we fit him with a catheter. It will also help us closely monitor his urinary output. Measuring the amount of fluids he takes in and puts out will help us see if his kidneys are functioning properly. Also," she pulled up the bottom of his sheets, showing blue boot-like things on both his legs. "we have him in compression boots to prevent blood clots. He's going to hate them, everyone does, but they're going to be necessary for while. And if we're lucky, they'll take his mind off the catheter."

"Can we stay with him?" Tessa asked.

"You can go home and come back when visiting hours start; he's going to be asleep the entire time you'd be gone."

"I don't care. I just want to be able to see him."

"Well, I can't let you stay the entire time he's here. But if you want to stay the first few days, I'll let the nurses know that you have my permission."

"Thank you, Doctor," Duncan said.

"Someone will be in the check on him every couple of hours." She started toward the door. "I'm sorry you had to go through this," she said turning back around. "But I'm glad you got your son back. He's going to be just fine."

The morning news was a buzz when reports found out that Richie had been found.

"I'm standing out side County General where eighteen year old kidnap victim, Richie MacLeod, was admitted early this morning after being found at the side of Highway 87 by a passing motorist. Richie is listed in stable condition and is being treated for several minor injuries. Doctors are promising a full recovery."

"We're outside police headquarters waiting for Lieutenant Travett to make his statement about the case...oh, here he is!"

"Richie MacLeod was found this morning at approximately one a.m. by a motorist traveling south on Highway 87. We are searching the scene for any evidence that may lead us to the apprehension of the kidnappers. We have no further information at this time..."

"The country has been sharing in the MacLeod family's fear and anticipation, and now we can share in their joy. Richie has been found and he is alive and well..."

"Well wishers have been sending cards and small gifts to the hospital for the teen..."

"His parents released an official statement today, thanking everyone for their prayers and support. They appreciate everything that the community has done for them over the past weeks and they will always be grateful..."

Tessa smiled as Richie started to stir late the next afternoon. She reached out and cupped his cheek with her hand.

"Richie," she whispered. "Are you awake?"

He sighed and nuzzled her hand. His eyes fluttered open for a split second then closed again.

"Richie? Open your eyes."

He groaned and snuggled down into the pillows.

"Come on, sweetie."

"Tess, he's not waking up," Duncan said. "Not yet."

"He opened his eyes."

"He's asleep now."

"He wasn't a second ago."

"He is now."

"Why are we arguing?" she asked. "What does it matter if he's awake now or before?"

Duncan smiled at her and hugged her. "I love you," he whispered. "I love you so much. I wouldn't have been able to get through this without you." Tessa held onto him and cried softly into his shoulder. He rocked her gently and whispered in her ear. "It's over now. We can take Richie and go to Paris, start over and we can forget this every happened."

Slowly Richie opened his eyes. He had no idea where he was. It was dark and everything was fuzzy. He looked up and saw two people sitting near him. Scared, he closed his eyes again. Then he heard a very familiar voice say: "We can forget this ever happened."

He knew that voice! It was Mac!

"I just want to get him home."

That was Tessa! He was home! He was safe! Finally, it was all over!

Before he could stop himself, Richie sobbed loudly.

"Richie?"

Duncan and Tessa were next to him immediately, sitting him up and hugging him, stroking his hair, talking to him, kissing him and all he could do was finally let out all the tears he had been holding back for so long.

"You okay?" Duncan asked. "Did they hurt you?"

Richie just cried and shook his head.

"We were so worried about you." Tessa held onto the teen, refusing to let him go, which was more than alright with him. "You poor baby," she whispered.

The door opened and a nurse looked in. She saw what was going on and quietly slipped back out.

Richie cried, hiding his face from view in Tessa's shoulder, until he was hiccupping and gasping for breath. It felt good to finally cry; it was a release for all the tension and angst of the last few weeks.

"Why don't you lie back down," Duncan suggested.

Richie shook his head and held onto Tessa. "It'll be okay," she told him. "You're going to wear yourself out this way." She helped him back down, pulled the blankets back up, then sat at the edge of his bed, holding onto his hand.

Duncan pulled his chair closer to the bed and took Richie's other hand and smiled at him. "You look pretty tired."

"I'm okay," Richie answered, his voice tight, hoarse and soft.

"How are we doing in here?" Dr. Lindsey asked, opening the door. "I hear someone woke up." She walked to the bed and crouched beside Duncan so she was eye level with Richie. "How are you feeling?"

Richie shrugged and looked at Duncan.

"I think he's feeling shy," he said.

Dr. Lindsey smiled. "That's just fine, Richie. I understand. But can you do me a favor and let me look you over?" He nodded. "Okay. Can you roll onto your stomach for me?" She checked the sores on his back and his rash. Then had him roll back over and she checked his blood pressure and temperature. "One more thing." She put her stethoscope to his abdomen.

"My stomach hurts," he told her softly.

She smiled at him. "I'm sure it does. That's just gas. Your body's going to get rid of it, one way or another and you'll feel better."

He nodded.

"Does anything else hurt?"

Richie nodded.

"What is it?"

His lips quirked into an awkward embarrassed grin, the color rose in his pale cheeks, and he nodded toward the foot of his bed.

"Ah," she nodded her understanding. "Anything else?"

"I have to go to the bathroom."

"That feeling you're going to have to get used to. Do you know what a catheter is?" He nodded. "That's what's giving you that feeling."

Richie nodded slowly, taking it all in. He was overwhelmed to wake up and find himself hooked to so many things. Everywhere he looked there was a wire attaching him to something.

"How is he?" Tessa asked, seeing that Richie wasn't going to speak again.

"Everything seems to be going perfectly. I just got finished going over his blood tests, and he has a few things that are too high or too low, but it's nothing that we can't fix very easily. All his vitals are good: he's young and healthy so I don't foresee any complications. As soon as his system regulates itself in a few weeks, he can go home good as new."

"Weeks?"

"I understand wanting to get him home as soon as possible, but it's going to take his body some time to recover from this. I can't tell you how quickly he'll recover; that's up to his body, but I can promise that I'll get him home as soon as possible."

Richie was fast asleep. He was finally safe, warm and -relatively- comfortable. He felt at peace and relaxed for the first time since the kidnapping. He opened his eyes and looked around the room.

No one was there. Richie looked at the clock, a little past one a.m. 'They must have been sent home,' Richie thought, snuggling back down into the pillows and blankets and closing his eyes.

He heard the door open and opened his eyes to greet which ever nurse was there to embarrass him by cleaning his butt and measuring his pee. But it wasn't a nurse. It was some man. Squinting, Richie tired to make out his face, but it wouldn't come into focus. He saw the man reach into the back of his waistband and pull a gun.

"Don't you say a word," a familiar, chilling voice commanded as the man approached the bed.

"No..." Richie begged. "Please, don't."

"Shut up!"

Richie tried to scream as the man grabbed him, but the man put his hand over Richie's mouth to muffle the yells.

Soon everything went black and Richie felt he was tied to something large and warm.

"No!" he screamed, his voice cracking and protesting the use, as he tried to break free. "No, let me go!"

"Richie! Richie, calm down!" Duncan's voice cut in.

Richie's eyes flew open, he was still in the hospital room.

"No!" he screamed, his voice coming out in squeaks. "Somebody help!" He tried to push Duncan, who was holding him, away from him.

"Richie, shh!" He checked the various tubes Richie was attached to, to make sure nothing was being obstructed or pulled at.

"No!"

"Richie, Richie, hush," Duncan tried to calm him. A nurse rushed in and Duncan waved her away. "Bad dream. We're fine."

"No..." Richie begged quietly still pushing on Duncan's chest.

"Okay, I'm going to let you, alright, Richie?" Duncan got up off the bed.

"Leave me alone," Richie turned away and hid his face in the pillows. "Go away."

Duncan took a deep breath. "Richie, this is Mac, do you want me to leave? Just say the word and I'll go home."

"Leave me alone."

Duncan got his coat off the chair and passed Tessa on his way out.

"Where are you going?" she asked, handing him the cup of coffee she had gone to get.

"Richie wants me to leave."

"What?"

"He had a bad dream; I scared him."

"So you're leaving?"

"He told me to."

"He was just disoriented from the dream, you know Richie. It takes him an hour to wake up after he gets up."

"Just the same. I'm going to take a taxi home; take your time, okay?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Can you check his IVs to make sure he didn't pull anything out?"

"All right," she said.

"You better get in there; he seemed pretty scared."

Tessa nodded and went to Richie's room. Richie was laying on his side, quietly, his eyes closed and his breath shaky.

"Richie?" she asked quietly.

"Hum?" he grunted, not turning.

"Are you alright?"

He sniffed. "Yeah."

"You don't sound it."

"It was just a dream," he mumbled.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" she asked. Richie started to sit up, but Tessa stopped him. "Lay down." She sat on the edge of the bed, and put her hand on his shoulder. "What was it about?" She did a quick check of his IVs and found everything to be in the correct place.

"He was here."

"Who?"

"Him."

"And what happened?"

"He had a gun. He was gonna kill me," he voice was soft and shook a bit. "He grabbed me and there was nobody here."

"It was a dream; it wasn't real."

"It felt real."

"I'm sure it did. Do you want me to stay with you tonight?"

Richie paused and stared at the wall. "Will you?"

"Of course. I'll stay as long as you want me to."