Duncan sat nervously by Richie's bed as the teen slept. He wanted to reach out and take Richie's hand, but last time he had touched Richie, he had gone into hysterics. Tessa was holding Richie's hand, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb.

"You look worse than Richie," she told Duncan.

"Tessa, I shouldn't even be here, I scare him."

"You scared him," she corrected. "There's a difference. He was having a nightmare that someone was trying to kill him; he would have pushed anyone away. And that was days ago."

"But he pushed me, Tessa. He told me to leave. He knew who I was and he told me to leave. I'm supposed to protect him and he's scared of me."

"Mac..." Richie said groggily.

"Go back to sleep, Rich," Duncan said gently.

"I'm not scared of you," Richie told him. "I'm scared of him."

"I told you," Tessa whispered to Duncan.

"Rich..."

"I didn't know it was you, honest. At least not at first; I thought you were him. In my dream, he was here and he had a gun and he grabbed me and then you were holding onto me and you wouldn't let me go and I wasn't really awake and I wasn't thinking clearly and I didn't mean it. And then I was just so embarrassed..."

"Richie..."

"Don't be mad at me, Mac."

"I'm not mad at you."

"Then why haven't you been here? The past three days, it's just been Tess."

"Richie..."

"How's everybody?" a nurse asked coming into the room. "Are you up for a little walking tonight?" she asked Richie checking his vitals.

"Sure."

"Good. I'm sure everyone will be glad to see you." The nurse went about her duties, asking Richie a few questions as she did. "I'll be by at five for that walk," she told him, putting his chart back at the foot of his bed.

Richie nodded and gave her a little smile, that turned into a cringe as the boots on his feet constricted. "I hate these things," he mumbled.

The nurse smiled at him. "The more we get you walking the less you have to wear them."

When the nurse left the room, the family was quiet until Richie softly spoke up. "Mac, you're not mad?"

"No, Rich," Duncan assured him, putting his hand over Tessa and Richie's. "I thought I was scaring you and I don't want you to be scared anymore."

"I think this was all a misunderstanding," Tessa said. "If you two would just talk instead of jumping to conclusions, things like this wouldn't happen."

"Oh? And you're so perfect?" Richie challenged with a grin, the mood of the room changing.

"Yes, I am."

"Somehow I doubt that."

They were laughing and teasing each other when Dr. Lindsey came in.

"How's everything going in here?" she asked.

"I dunno, are you here to unhook anything?" Richie asked.

"Not yet." She took a thermometer out of her pocket and stuck it in Richie's mouth. Richie frowned and folded his arms. "The usual complaints?" she asked. He rolled his eyes and nodded. Richie always complained about three things: the catheter, the constriction boots and the lack of real food. So far all he had gotten anyone to bring him was a bowl of an off-white oatmeal like substance.

"A nurse was just in here checking on him," Tessa said.

"Oh, we must have some lines of communication crossed." The doctor consulted Richie's chart and sure enough, everything had been checked not fifteen minutes ago. "Well, everything is looking good," she said. "Richie is progressing a bit faster than we had hoped he would." She compared the reading of the thermometer to what the nurse had written in his chart a few minutes earlier; everything matched up

"So, how soon do I get to go home?" he asked.

"I don't know, how soon can you stick to a schedule?" she asked him, listening to his breathing, heartbeat, then bowels.

"How soon can I get some real food?"

Dr. Lindsey smiled. "How soon can you say catheter?"

Richie frowned at her. She raised her eyebrows. "Caferter," he mumbled.

Tessa smiled. Duncan looked from Tessa to the Doctor. "Did I miss something?" he asked.

"Dr. Lindsey promised Richie a bacon cheese burger if he learns to say 'catheter' correctly," Tessa explained. "He just can't seem to get it right."

Duncan smiled. "Cathhhh," he said. "Like 'Cathy'. Cath-e-ter"

"Cathh-e-ter..." Richie repeated.

"There you go, catheter."

"Cathh-e-ter," he told Dr. Lindsey.

"Try it at a normal speed," she told him.

"Caferter!"

She winked. "Looks like someone's getting hot mush for dinner."

"Caf..Cath..Cath-e-ter...Caferter...go away," he suddenly ordered.

"Richie, that wasn't very nice," Tessa scolded.

"You gotta go, too," he said.

"Why?"

"Cause I gotta go. So if I gotta go, you gotta go cause I can't go unless you go so you gotta go so I can go cause I'm not gonna go until you do!"

Duncan smiled. "Until we what?"

"Go!"

"Go where?"

"Out!"

"Out where?"

"Outside!"

Dr. Lindsey smiled. "Now I see where he gets it. Let me help you." She reached to help him move from bed to the toilet-like chair by his bed.

"I can do it," he insisted.

"I'd really rather you let me at least be here while you do it."

"You wanna watch me take a dump?"

"No, when you get settled, I'll leave you alone."

"Fine," he groaned. "But you guys gotta leave," he told Tessa and Duncan.

"You heard him," Dr. Lindsay smiled. Duncan looked at Richie then the doctor, it was obvious what he was thinking. "Don't worry, I'm stronger than I look. If there is a problem I can handle it."

"Duncan," Tessa took his arm. "We'll be in the hall."

A few minutes later, Dr. Lindsay came out. "He was right, he did it just fine on his own."

"So he's doing well?" Duncan asked.

"He's been having a few nightmares. But he is getting stronger everyday. He's actually met a few goals early. He can walk as far and as easily as we had hopped he would next week."

"That's good," Tessa said.

"What about everything else?" Duncan asked.

"Well, his bowels aren't cooperating quite as nicely as his leg muscles are. He's still very irregular, diarrheic, and gassy. It's taking his body more time than we had expected to get used to regular feedings and proper nutrition. It's only a matter of time before this clears itself up, but until then there are only a few things he can eat. None of which he seems to like very much, but honestly, if the biggest problem we have is him being a picky eater, we don't have anything to worry about."

"That's good to know."

"I did, however, want to talk to you in private," Dr. Lindsey said. "Like I said, there's nothing to worry about with Richie, but, the police have wanted to question him since he got here, and until now he's been in no condition to do it. But now, from my standpoint, I think he can handle it. So I'm leaving it up to you as to when you think he's ready. I can give them any constraints you want, a time limit, a certain time of day they can come, requirements as to who can and can't be there, anything you want."

"I think we'll let him decide," Tessa said. "He'll know when he's ready."

"I would suggest you get him to do it while he's here. As long as he's here, I have jurisdiction to impose any requirements; if he waits until he goes home, they're not going to let anyone tell them what to do. Also, the sooner he talks about it the more accurate his details will be. With his nightmares, he may start getting details confused."

"We'll talk to him once he's done," Duncan said. "Whenever that is... should it take him this long?"

"It's taken him anywhere from five to almost fifteen minutes to handle this. He's doing fine." She glanced at her watch. "Well, I need to make some rounds. He knows that when he's done he's to call a nurse; they'll help him with anything he may need. I have a feeling he may have you banished until it's all handled. There are vending machines down the hall and the cafeteria is the next floor down."

"Thank you, Doctor."

After ten minutes had passed and there was no word from Richie that he was done, Duncan went down the hall and got himself a cup of coffee. When he came back, a nurse was heading into Richie's room, Tessa still in the hall.

"Sure you don't want any?" Duncan asked, offering his Styrofoam cup. Tessa shook her head. He shrugged and took a sip. It was chalky and had the vague taste of dirt, but it was hot and gave him something to concentrate on.

It felt strange, odd somehow. He had been worried about Richie for so long, and the teen was just on the other side of the wall, his old self again almost as if nothing had happened and he was just in the hospital for some routine, minor surgery. Only Richie's subconscious seemed to recognize what sort of danger he had been in.

"You can go in, now," the nurse said exiting the room, careful not to subject Duncan and Tessa to what she had gone in for.

Richie was back in bed, a little pink around the ears, when they went in.

"Are you alright?" Tessa asked him, resuming her seat by his bed.

"Fine."

"Rich, we have to talk," Duncan said.

"The cops wanna talk to me, right?"

"How did you know?" Tessa asked.

He shrugged. "I knew they'd want to sooner or later."

"You have forty five minutes," Dr. Lindsey told Travett, opening the door to Richie's room.

"Of course." He went in and took a seat in the empty chair by Richie's bed.

Richie was sitting up staring at his sheet. Tessa was on the other side of the bed from Lieutenant Travett, holding Richie's right hand and Duncan was standing behind Tessa, having given up his seat for the lieutenant.

"Hi, Richie, I'm Lieutenant Travett; I've been working on your case."

"Hi," Richie answered softly.

"How are you feeling?"

"Okay, I guess."

"That's good. The doctor tells me you're making great progress." Richie didn't answer. "I need to ask you some questions about what happened. And I understand that some of them may make you uncomfortable, but I need you to answer as truthfully as you can with as much detail as you can, alright?" Richie nodded. "Okay, I want to start off by telling you that there is nothing to be embarrassed about or ashamed of. None of this is your fault and no one thinks it is." Travett glanced up at Duncan who gave him a look. "Are you ready, Richie?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, do you know who kidnapped you?"

"No."

"Did you ever see a face?"

"No."

"Do you know how many there were?"

"Two... I think."

"Okay. That's good. Were there two men, two women, one of each?"

"One of each, I think."

"Good." He wrote what Richie was saying on a notepad.

"Do you know where you were, while they had you?"

"No."

"Did you see anything, ever?"

"No."

"Alright. Let's try it this way. I want you to think back to the night they kidnapped you. What happened that night? I want every detail you can think of."

Richie swallowed and nodded, closing his eyes. "I went to bed around midnight, maybe twelve thirty. I'm not sure when, but I heard the kitchen door open."

"Did you hear glass breaking?"

"No, just the door opening."

"Then what happened?"

"I tried to go back to sleep. Then, I heard them come down the hall and open my door."

"You did look to see who it was?"

"I thought it was Mac, sometimes I hear him check in on me before he goes to bed," Richie said.

"So you just continued to try to sleep?"

"Yes."

"Okay. So these people came in your room. Then what happened?"

"I heard him come to my bed. He said 'wake up' and I was confused, cause it didn't sound like Mac. I opened my eyes, and there was a gun in my face." He tightened his grip on Tessa's hand.

"What happened then?"

"Someone gagged me. They took me into the kitchen and made me write the note. While he told me what to write she taped my ankles. Then my wrists..."

"In front or behind your back?"

"Behind." He took a deep breath. "Then they blindfolded me and carried me out to their car."

"Did you scream?"

"I tried to."

"Okay. That's good information. Can you tell me how they treated you?"

Richie shrugged. "They were hardly ever there. They'd just show up randomly with food."

"Okay. Did you ever see anything?"

"No, the last thing I saw before I woke up here was the note they made me write."

Travett sighed. "What sort of things did you hear?"

Richie shook his head. "The usual stuff...cars, I heard kids playing sometimes; I think I heard someone mowing their lawn."

"It sounds like you were in a neighborhood."

"Yeah, I think it was a house," Richie said. "I remember hearing a garage door whenever they moved me."

"Did you ever hear them use any names?"

"They barely said anything around me. All I ever heard was 'shut up' or 'eat'."

Travett paused and looked over his meager notes. "Did they ever hurt you, Richie?"

"He hit me a few times, when I made him mad."

"How did you make him mad?"

"I refused to eat."

"Did they feed you regularly?"

"I don't know. I couldn't tell time."

"What sort of things did they give you?"

"Mostly burgers and pizza."

Travett perked up a bit. "Was it homemade? Did they cook for you?"

"No. The burgers were from Burger King."

"What about the pizza? Could you tell where it was from?"

"Uh..."

"You really need to think, Richie. This may be our only lead; do you know where it was from?"

"How is pizza gonna help?"

"If you were given pizza for a month, maybe we can track sales. Think, Richie. Did it taste familiar?"

"Tasted a little like Pizza Hut to me."

"Okay." He wrote it down. "I think that's it for now," he said, getting up. "If you think of anything, Richie, I want you to call me." Travett handed him a business card. "You can reach me anytime, okay?"

"Sure." Richie took the card and looked at it.

"I'll walk you out," Duncan said, moving toward the door. "Well?" he asked once they were in the hallway and the door was closed behind them.

"I'm going to tell you the truth, Mr. MacLeod. He gave me nothing."

"I thought you said that the food helped."

"If he had come up with something less popular it may have. I can't tell you how many locations we have of those places... Dozens. I'll try, but chances are it won't do us any good."

"Are you telling me that you have no more information now than you did before?"

"We were hoping they may have slipped up and given Richie some sort of clue. They didn't. At least not that he's remembering right now. These people knew what they were doing. There were not prints in your apartment, none on what we got from the first drop, none on the second letter... Richie never saw anything, never heard anything helpful. We have nothing."