A/N: Well, this one was a long time coming. Another longer story for the A to Z Charlie whump challenge, though admittedly, this one is a bit different. I'll let you find out how :)

Warnings: Please, beware! While it is not the focus of the story, part of it is playing out in an abandoned mental hospital. There will be mentions of procedures and practices of the past. I tried to do a research as much as possible, but there is only so much I can grasp. The views and beliefs on mental illnesses portrayed in this story are purely those of the characters, at a certain period of time, not mine.

With that said, I hope you will enjoy the fic. As always, it is already finished and chapters will be posted daily. Big thanks to lawson_davis for creating two wonderful cover pics and to several other discord friends for supporting me along the way and kicking my butt into finishing this beast.

J is for Jeopardy

Chapter 1

Blake always enjoyed large family dinners. Perhaps it was because in the past they never had any. Before his mother died there were party dinners of course, but that was different. Lucien was a young boy in the midst of adults who either talked about medicine, art or the latest gossip. The only joy those dinners got him was to see his mother smile happily and perhaps a chance to grab some cake off the table without his father's notice.

After his mother died, Blake was shipped off to the boarding school. He scarcely saw his father, the only remaining family member, and dinners were usually a quiet affair. In China things were different, or well, they would have been. Blake knew that large family gatherings were common, even required. However, he was a foreigner marrying a Chinese girl. It wasn't the most usual of things, even at that time. Then the war headed its ugly head and everything turned upside down. Blake had lost what little comfort he had.

He never thought he would gain it back, but here he was. Back home in Ballarat... having the job he enjoyed, freshly married to a woman he knew he didn't deserve.

"What are you smiling about?" a voice pulled him out of his musings. Blake looked up, trying to wipe the sappy look from his face.

"Ah, Danny. Nothing, just... lost in thoughts I suppose," he said. Danny Parks rolled his eyes and settled on the couch opposite Blake, a glass of cold beer in his hand. Blake raised an eyebrow.

"Jean let you have beer before dinner?" he asked with a smirk. Danny shrugged.

"It's my vacation. And she didn't really notice," he added with a grin. "Anyway, I need to stave off the hunger. Are you sure we need to wait for Lawson and Davis to arrive? I mean... we could leave them the salad..."

Blake chuckled, glancing towards the kitchen. He could smell the roast and the baked potatoes were almost done. Jean was humming and bustling around quite contentedly.

"They should be here shortly, don't worry. I have a feeling you wouldn't want to deal with a hungry Matthew on your day off."

Danny's eyes widened in mock horror.

"Sweet Lord, no. I'm happy Davis took up the slack. I'll tell you, the boss back in Melbourne is much more lenient," he said with a satisfied smile and took a sip of the beer.

Blake nodded.

"So Melbourne is treating you well? No regrets about leaving Ballarat?"

Danny's face turned a bit more serious.

"I'll always miss this place Doc, you know that. I miss my friends, I miss auntie Jean's cooking. What I don't miss is having to wonder when you'll get yourself killed or me in trouble for helping you," Danny added with a wink.

Blake snorted, making a hurt face.

"Daniel, you wound me. Did I ever get you in trouble?"

Danny opened his mouth, then clapped it shut, shaking his head. It was obvious he didn't even want to start recounting all the times. It fitted Blake just as well.

"Boys? Anyone going to help me set the table?" Jean called out from the kitchen. Danny shot an expectant look towards Blake. Just then there was a knock on the front door.

"Alright. I'll get the door, you go help Jean," Blake said and Danny put down his beer with a sigh.

"Expecting visitors?"

"Not that I know of. But perhaps Matthew and Charlie just forget their keys," Blake said, however unlikely that scenario was.

"I wish," Danny muttered and headed to the kitchen. Blake walked to the door and opened it, surprised to see their guest.

"Rose? Ah, what a nice surprise! I thought you wouldn't be back from Bendigo before tomorrow," he said with a smile and invited her inside.

"I managed to catch an earlier bus so I thought I'd stop by. Jean said Danny is here for a visit?"

"Indeed he is," Blake replied, trying to hide a grin. Ever since the wedding, he was aware of Rose and Danny hitting it off well. At first he was worried about Charlie's reaction, what with his history with Rose, but then Charlie and Danny also became pals and the three seemed to enjoy each other's company. It was true there was some chaffing in the beginning, but after one rather wild pub crawl Danny and Charlie seemed to clear the air. Of course Rose must've had a few words with them as well. Ever since, however, the atmosphere with these three together was one of relaxation. And bickering.

Rose headed to the kitchen and Blake had to smile when he heard Danny's surprised exclamation.

"Lucien? Dinner is ready," Jean called at him from the kitchen and Blake nodded, shooting a look outside towards the road. It was empty. He closed the door and followed Rose to the kitchen. Matthew and Charlie were running a bit late, but he was sure they would be home soon, so they could settle down and eat. As one big family.

Charlie's stomach grumbled so loud it could be heard even through the sound of the engine. Lawson snorted.

"Hungry?" he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Charlie grimaced.

"Starving. I missed lunch break. I hope they waited for us with dinner," he noted a bit wistfully. While he knew it was selfish to want the others go hungry until they arrived, Charlie was kind of looking forward to the dinner. He knew Jean was making his favourite roast and he caught mention of a dessert. Right now he would have eaten anything, but the idea of freshly baked potatoes made his mouth water.

Lawson was shooting him amused looks.

"Relax, detective sergeant. The way you drive we will be there before Parks manages to finish the appetizer," Lawson noted and Charlie realized in his hunger he was pressing down on the gas more than usual. He eased up and let out a sigh.

Normally, he wouldn't be this antsy to get home, but the last few days were rather busy at the station. They had a case of extortion and Charlie, as the newly appointed detective sergeant, got the lead. Which was good, career wise, but hell on his nerves. Lawson was overseeing the case from far, only occasionally making a note when Charlie clearly indicated he would appreciate it. There were no dead bodies so Blake wasn't involved and it was the first time since Charlie's return from the bonehead that he could truly use his newly learned skills. Or well... first time that Blake nor Lawson were involved. Thus, it was with great joy that he managed to identify the culprit behind several cases of extortion, involving a shop being set on fire and racketeering.

Luck was also on his side and he apprehended the man without any violence. That was yesterday. This morning he found out the man in question was already wanted in two other states and supposedly belonged to a rather infamous crime family. He was one of the younger members, a cousin of a cousin who was sent out to the world trying to establish the family business in a new town. In other words, it was a great catch and Charlie was rightfully proud of his accomplishment.

That was also one of the reasons why he was looking forward to the dinner. He heard from Jean that Danny had arrived this morning for a prolonged weekend and thus the dinner. For Charlie it meant a new and willing listener to talk about the case and his proves. Not to mention, if Danny was spending the weekend, Charlie knew the two of them could go into town the next evening. After the stress of the last few days he was very much looking forward to a couple of beers, a table of pool and overall shooting the breeze.

Unfortunately, wrapping up the case also meant he had needed to finish a hell of a lot of paperwork before Eddie Corbyn, their suspect, could be properly processed and booked. Lawson was nice enough to wait up for him so that they could ride in one car. Otherwise, Charlie would've had to splurge for a cab or use the bus. Danny would have definitely stolen his dessert by then, even if just as payback for keeping them waiting.

It was fifteen minutes past six. That wasn't so bad after all.

Lawson rolled his eyes and was about to comment, when the radio crackled to life.

Both men startled, not expecting the sound.

"Any unit clear for a code 9 and 19, Almond road 15. I repeat, any unit clear for code 9 and 19, Almond Rd. 15. Please respond. Over."

Charlie and Lawson exchanged a look.

"That's member down or in trouble?"

"And assist police in trouble," Lawson finished grimly, already reaching for the radio.

"Lawson here. What are the details, constable? Over."

There was a short pause, then constable Thompson's voice resumed.

"We had a call about trespassing and distress call. Unidentified boy around ten years, seen entering the old asylum at Almond Rd. The caller was supposedly the older brother. He said they entered the building and got separated when part of the building collapsed. Older brother ended the call before giving more details. Over."

Charlie cringed. This might've been just a prank call but there was no way to say without checking. And he knew the asylum was too large for one person to do such kind of work. Not to mention, if it wasn't a prank, every moment counted.

„Any other units available? Over."

„Unit 303 is out on a call. Over."

This time when the radio crackled, they could hear Bill Hobart's voice, as grumpy as ever.

„I'm here," Hobart announced, clearly not caring for any codes. „The call was resolved. I'm heading over to the scene. Over," he added as an afterthought.

Charlie and Lawson exchanged a look. With a sigh, Charlie nodded. Of course. There was no other choice.

"Unit 303, we will meet you at the location. Constable, have an ambulance ready to dispatch and stay on the radio. Over."

"Understood, Chief Superintendent. Over."

"Well, looks like dinner will have to wait after all," Lawson said even as Charlie had turned the car around.

"Yeah," he muttered. Somehow, the idea of food had lost its appeal anyway. If there was a kid in trouble, all else went out the window.

Hobart had arrived to the place before them. Charlie could see the lights of his car from the distance, soon joined by the light of a torch slowly walking the perimeter. Charlie pulled up next to Bill's car. For a moment he just looked outside the window at the imposing building. They were at the tail end of the winter season but it was still turning dark quite early on. It didn't help that the asylum was located in the middle of the Creswick regional park. Probably the only place around with a rather dense cover of trees.

Charlie loved trees and during daylight he would be the first one to enjoy a nice run around one of the trails. But at night the place looked just a bit... threatening.

"Hope you aren't scared of abandoned places," Lawson commented as he was ruffling through the compartment for a torch.

Charlie shook his head.

"This place looks... abysmal," Charlie said, a shiver running down his spine.

"Yeah well, that happens when a place is left to rot for over two decades," Lawson said offhandedly, grabbing the torch and getting out of the car. Charlie quickly followed, turning on his own light. They could see Hobart's torch stopping a bit to the side of the building.

"Found anything, sergeant?" Lawson called out in greeting.

Hobart turned and gave them both a nod before he grimly turned back towards his find. The torch had shown a bike lying on the dirt, abandoned. It was clear it belonged to a kid from the smaller size. It was also clear that the bike haven't been there all that long. They could actually see the tire tracks leading from the road. The fact there was no other set of tracks leading away though was a bit puzzling, if the call was to be believed.

"No sign of the brother?"

Bill shook his head.

"I reckon we will have to go inside and take a look for ourselves," Bill muttered and Charlie could see he wasn't hyped about the idea either. Three torches swept the grounds around then shone at the building in front of them.

It was a huge, three story building with two side wings and a small clock tower above the main entrance. Some windows still had glass in them, but most were broken. The roof was holding by some miracle, at least the parts Charlie could see from where he stood. The building was built in an old Victorian style. He was sure at the time of its build it was a beautiful place, at least from the outside. Now however, it loomed over them, casting an oppressive shadow at everything. The moonlight peeking from behind the right wing did nothing to ease the mood.

"It's awful big," Charlie muttered.

"Not as big as the Lake mental hospital, but... large enough for the three of us to go looking for a child," Lawson noted glumly.

"If there is any kid. Might be just a prank," Bill said.

Charlie shone the light back at the bike.

"Do you think a kid would leave his bike here just so he can prank us?" he asked dubiously.

Bill grimaced but didn't comment. They all looked back at the building.

"Alright. Let's find the boy and get the hell out of here. This place is giving me the creeps," Lawson said and without waiting for a reply headed towards the front door. Charlie and Bill reluctantly followed.

Charlie somehow hoped they would find the front door locked and intact, a sign that no one could have entered. A quick sweep of the torch had shown that the windows at the bottom floor were all boarded up or had bars in them. If there was no way in then perhaps they wouldn't have to enter. Charlie wasn't sure why, but he really didn't want to go inside.

He wasn't one to believe ghost stories but the atmosphere was unusually thick. The silence around was also making him nervous. Even the usual hum of frogs and crickets sounded somehow out of tune. But that was most likely just Charlie's imagination.

They approached the door and Charlie was dismayed to see it was open. Well, broken down would be a better description. The door was hanging on one hinge, the wood cracked and the lock clearly gone for more than a few years.

"Why was this building abandoned?" he wondered. Despite the darkness, he was sure the architecture was stunning and someone had paid great mind to building this place. It must've cost a lot too.

"This was originally a mansion belonging to the old Sturgis family. After the last remaining member of the family had died without a heir, the building was turned into a sanatorium of sorts but that didn't last. When the Lake Asylum had suffered that huge fire, most of the patients were moved over here until it was repaired," Lawson spoke even as he pushed at the remnants of the door with his cane so they could pass inside. The entrance hall had parquets that creaked and Charlie felt the dust whirling in the air with every movement he made. It didn't take long for him to sneeze.

"Allergies, detective?" Hobart said with a smirk. Charlie ignored the glib. Ever since he returned from bonehead, Bill seemed to have a hard time accepting his 'promotion'. He took every chance to comment on it.

"What happened after the Lake Asylum was repaired?" Charlie asked instead, wanting to know why such a building would be left in this state.

"The patients moved back. Of course, there were several missing and others were in too bad a condition to survive the transport. An investigation was launched and because no investor wanted anything to do with this place, the town boarded it up and let it rot."

Charlie blinked. Was Lawson serious?

"Missing people?"

Lawson shrugged.

"I'm sure Blake would be happy to give you a full history of this place, but I'd rather focus on finding the kid," Hobart jumped in, grumpier than usual. Charlie wanted to retort something, but the man was right. They were here for a reason and Blake would definitely have more to say on the subject.

"Ballarat police! Anyone here?" Lawson bellowed. His voice was oddly echoing through the walls and Charlie barely suppressed a shudder. It was eerie. They waited in silence for almost a minute, listening.

"Hello? Anyone? Call out if you need assistance!"

Silence.

Charlie wished they could just turn around and leave but that obviously wasn't in the cards.

"What now?" he asked and made a sweep with his torch. They stood in a huge hall. There was a reception desk in front of them. Charlie couldn't see a staircase, which most likely meant the way up was through one of the wings. There was a pair of high glass doors to each side of the hall and two normal doors behind the reception desk which was positioned in the middle of the hall. In the far left corner there was a barred elevator door. Charlie walked up to it and shone the light through the bars. He couldn't see the elevator cabin from that angle and there was only darkness wherever he aimed the light. He swallowed, feeling his stomach turn at the dank smell that hit his nose as he leaned against the bars. Charlie pulled his face away quickly, an absurd feeling that something might just reach out at any second and grab at him causing a chill run down his spine.

"Anything interesting there Davis?" Hobart called out.

Charlie shook off the strange fear and reached for the doors. He knew the elevator wouldn't be working without electricity, but he wanted to make sure a curious kid couldn't have just opened it and fallen in.

His hands tugged at the barred door. It gave a creak and he felt it move for maybe a centimetre, but then there was resistance. Charlie thought that perhaps he might be able to pull it open, but that would require excessive force. Not something a supposedly ten year old might do. The door clearly hadn't been used for ages.

"Nothing," Charlie said, loud enough to be heard by the others.

He turned to inspect the hall a bit more. Besides the elevator there were only two small tables and a few chairs at the side, looking like a waiting area for visitors. Charlie spotted a potted plant, or rather a pot that hosted the corpse of what looked like a dried up palm tree. It was now surrounded by spider webs. Charlie could swear he saw movement in the light of the torch as something crawled away. He shuddered and turned away. He hated spiders or other crawling creatures. Especially as some of the local ones had quite strong venoms.

"Do we split up?" Hobart asked and his tone sounded oddly scratchy. Charlie was surprised to note that the man looked physically uncomfortable with being here.

Lawson grimaced at the question, his eyes roaming the space.

"I don't like it, but we need to cover ground."

Charlie hated that idea.

"Boss, maybe it would be better to stay together," he said and raised his hand to stop any scathing comment from Bill. "I mean... if one of us finds the boy, how are we going to call for help?"

"What do you propose then Davis?"

"Let's start with one wing? We can each pick a floor, but we should stay close enough to be able to call for help if needed."

It was odd, but Hobart didn't protest. He actually seemed a bit relieved.

Lawson gave it only a moment of thought then nodded.

"Alright. Let's first check out those two rooms then we can start with the left wing."

It turned out that both doors led to one large room. What was its original purpose Charlie had no idea. Maybe a ball room for large parties? Now... or rather during the times of the asylum, it must've been a room serving for visitations or larger assemblies. There were tables, chairs and benches, strewn all around. Caked in dust, most of them broken to pieces. There were empty alcohol bottles littering the floor along with an assortment of waste. It was clear at some point in time a bunch of teens found their way in and had thrown an impromptu party or two. Charlie was just surprised to see that the waste and bottles weren't littering the entry hall as well.

"Anyone here?" Hobart called out and they swept the room with the torches. No movement, no sound except for the wind whistling through a half broken window at the back of the room, showing only darkness.

"Seems empty, Boss," Charlie said rather unnecessarily. Lawson took in the place and nodded.

"Let's go then."

The glass door to the left wing was surprisingly untouched. Except for the dirt and dust, the glass wasn't cracked. There also didn't seem to be any lock, which Charlie found a bit strange in such an establishment. However, once they passed through the door it was clear the fancy door was just a facade. Their torches didn't reach all the way to the end of the hallway, but all along the corridor there were full doors, most of them with padlocks and a small opening to peer inside. The walls of the corridor were dark grey, the paint peeling off in places, mould taking over others.

"This place is giving me the creeps," Charlie commented under his breath. He was surprised when Hobart made an agreeable grunt. Lawson was eerily silent, his face pulled into a frown. Charlie called out this time, cringing at hearing his own voice echo only to be cut off suddenly. He really hated it here.

"Let's move this along," Lawson growled and one by one, they started checking the rooms. There had to be at least six on both sides of the corridor. The building seemed larger from the inside than the short look outside suggested .

"Looks like patient bedrooms?" Charlie said a bit hesitantly. There shouldn't have been any hesitation, the bare cots, two of them in each room, should have been a dead giveaway. It wasn't as much that he doubted patients slept there, as the disbelief that someone could have slept there. The rooms... they were bare. Each had a small window set up high with crudely installed bars, some were boarded. There were scratches and childish drawings with what seemed to be crayons in one room, while the other was decorated with crude curses in dark pen drawn over one of the walls. Some cots were nailed down to the floor. Others... others had leather straps hanging from the sides.

Charlie swallowed down the feeling of nausea. He didn't even want to imagine what was going on here. And the smell... the smell was horrible.

Hobart had opened one door only to curse and quickly backpedal, almost crashing into Lawson. He slammed the door closed fast but Charlie still caught the sight of a floor and walls covered in what must've been human waste.

The hunger he had felt previously was all but gone. All he craved now was a long, scalding hot shower. Despite just passing by the room, the smell lingered.

"Maybe this is really just a prank call," Charlie commented with a face screwed up in disgust. "What kid would be running around this place?"

Indeed, what child? When three adult men felt the need to keep close, goose bumps adorning their arms.

"A crazy one," Hobart said, anger clear in his tone.

"He might've done it on a dare," Lawson spoke up, gaining both of their attention. Lawson noticed and gave a shrug. "I remember one summer when someone dared me to sleep over at the cemetery. I was ten. Of course Blake found it exciting and tagged along."

Charlie snorted. Of course. Blake would be the one to find such experience interesting. Or maybe he just wanted to help a friend save face. Charlie's amusement slipped away as he wondered if the kid daring Lawson wasn't the same one that bullied him in school. He didn't ask though.

"Still... how far would you have gone?"

Lawson shrugged.

"We need to search the premises so we can be totally sure there is no one here."

With that said, they continued checking out the rooms, occasionally calling out then listening for any response. Fortunately, the rest of the rooms seemed to be in a slightly better condition, or at least they didn't hold any undue surprises. All of them were empty however and they had reached the end of the corridor.

There was only one door left straight in front of them and they all shared a confused look. It wasn't making any sense not to put a staircase at the end of the wing. Did the original builders really plan on people having to walk through the whole building to be able to go upstairs? Or were parts of the building rebuilt when it became an asylum? Charlie didn't think one elevator would be it for the whole building.

"Open that and we will see," Lawson grunted, reading their minds.

It was Hobart who opened the door then let out a disgruntled sound.

"Perfect," he said as he waved his torch up and down then stepped forward. Charlie peeked in, then froze.

Under his feet was metal. Rusted, old metal. As Hobart took a step deeper inside to make space, the construction gave a warning creak and both men froze momentarily.

"What's it?" Lawson asked from the door.

"We found the staircase," Charlie commented with a grimace as he used his torch to look around properly. It wasn't a wide staircase by any means. There were no windows, just grey walls and red metal. The stairs led up and he could see the railing was missing in places. He hoped the stairs were in better shape.

"You gotta be kidding," Hobart uttered and Charlie followed the light of his torch downward.

"Damn. Looks like there's another floor beneath us," he said, turning to Lawson. The man grimaced.

"Alright. New plan. Each of us takes one floor. I'll go down, you two up. If the layout is the same, we should meet at the staircase in the right wing where we can check the ground floor on our way to the hallway. If one of us doesn't get there, the other two backtrack the floor. Understood?"

Both Hobart and Charlie nodded, although it was clear neither of them really wanted to go.

"Move," Lawson barked, just as his torch blinked and turned dark. "Bloody hell!"

"Boss?" They haven't moved yet.

Lawson grunted, smashing the torch a few times until it blinked back to life.

"It's fine. You better check-"

Someone cried out.

All three men froze.

"What's that?" Charlie asked after a second, sure that it must've been the wind in the pipes or the building settling so to speak. The sound repeated. A low wail... a cry for help. A child's cry for help.

"It's coming from upstairs," Bill said and without thinking, he was already rushing up the stairs, Charlie close behind.

It was Lawson, still partially standing in the doorway who heard the warning creak and the snap of metal.

"Stop!" he cried out but it was too late.

Charlie heard the warning at the same moment he felt the vibration under his feet. He was mid motion, Hobart only a few feet ahead of him. They were in the middle of the first staircase... too far to get back to the door in time. Not far enough to reach the second clearing.

"Bill!" Charlie managed to shout although he knew it was useless. There was nowhere to go... only down. Years of rust and abandon made the metal construction fragile. Too fragile to hold the weight of two grown men, especially when they were running up.

There was a sound of nails tearing from the wall, another loud crack and then only a scream.

Charlie didn't know who screamed... if it was him, Bill or Lawson. It didn't matter.

All that mattered was that the floor vanished from under his feet. He rolled and tripped and he could feel himself falling. The torch fell from his hands and tumbled down alongside him, offering a momentary sight of metal and limbs, dust and dirt glinting in the light.

Charlie felt something crash into him... or maybe he crashed into something.

Then the light vanished alongside Charlie's breath and consciousness.

TBC