AN: I apologize for the delay. I had a deadline that I really need set everything else aside to focus on, but I'm back now :) As always, I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!

Gil fought to keep himself from fidgeting. He was usually the definition of calm, cool, and collected, but this time, his fear for his kid was overriding his training and police instincts.

"It'll work, he'll talk," Dani muttered to him. "He wouldn't have agreed to meet with us if he didn't plan on cooperating."

Gil slowly exhaled, but nodded. She was right. He was letting his nerves get the better of him. That was why in literally any other situation, Gil wouldn't have been allowed to work the case. It was too personal. Already there were higher ups that were trying to convince him to stand down and let someone else take over the case, but Gil wouldn't hear it. This was his kid and he wasn't about to be sidelined while others looked for him.

Dani leaned back in the bench, forcing herself into a more relaxed position that Gil then mirrored. She was holding up a lot better than he was, for the most part - he didn't comment on the time that she had left the bathroom with a single tear stain on her face that she had missed.

The park was busy. There were people with kids everywhere, running around and playing. A couple of dogs played frisbee with their owners. Gil remembered Malcolm begging him to get a dog, since Jessica would never allow it, but Gil's landlord hadn't allowed it either. To compensate, they would go to dog parks together and people would always let Malcolm play with their dogs. The kid would smile so wide as he pet them, and laugh when they licked his face. Jessica hated how he would get dog slobber stains on his clothes, but she knew how much the kid loved it, so she was willing to let it slide as long as no dogs actually came into her home. Gil still thought Malcolm needed a dog, but the kid wasn't exactly in the best place to be able to take care of one.

Gil came back to the present as he heard the creak of someone sitting on the opposite side of the bench, their back to Gil and Dani. A barely discernible glance proved it to be their guy: an Albanian mafia lieutenant, the only one willing to work with cops.

"Lieutenant Arroyo, Detective Powell," the man greeted with a thick Albanian accent. "What do you need from us today?" None of them turned to look at each other, continuing to all stare straight ahead.

"We need information on a hit put out on Malcolm Bright, ex-FBI," Gil said, his voice strong and steady despite the fear hammering away in his heart.

The man scoffed. "That one's been giving the boss some trouble, I can tell you that," he said. "Apparently the boy is putting up much more of a fight than they planned for." Gil couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. His kid was a fighter, able to duke it out with the best of them, no matter how much of a disadvantage he was at - and he was frequently at a disadvantage, usually being smaller than their suspects or his assailants. "Before they even got confirmation whether or not Mr. Bright survived the crash, they found the boy and his friend outside the cabin. The men haven't checked in since, so I would assume it didn't go according to plan."

"And what would 'according to plan' be?" Dani asked.

"The boy's death. They should have sent visual confirmation to the boss by now and they have not," the Albanian replied with a shrug.

"Where is this cabin?" Gil asked, that being the most important question. The kid seemed to get in trouble with cabins on a frequent basis. When it was all over, Gil was going to have to take Malcolm to a nice cabin by a lake to offset it all. Maybe he'd take the whole team, teach them all how to fish like his dad had taught him. They were certainly going to need some time off.

"What does the life of one ex-FBI agent matter to the NYPD? Who is he to you, lieutenant?"

"Everything," Gil responded without hesitation. "Now tell me where that cabin is." He fought to keep his voice steady. He needed to be diplomatic, lest the Albanian decide that helping the NYPD out wasn't worth it. "Remember, you'll get to cash in this favor at a later date."

The Albanian sighed, then nodded, and rattled off a string of coordinates that Gil immediately committed to memory. "This one may cost you, lieutenant, but good luck finding your boy." Gil felt the weight on the benches shift as the man stood and walked away without another word.

Gil's leg began to bounce with nerves as he and Dani waited another few minutes before leaving. The conversation that was had there needed to be kept secret.

Finally, Gil decided that two minutes were long enough to not seem suspicious, and stood to leave, with Dani following suit. They made it back to the precinct in record time, with both of them too high strung to speak on the drive back. If the Albanian had been lying to them, then JT and Malcolm were as good as dead. If that happened, Gil would hunt the man down and kill him, no matter how much valid intel he'd provided over the years. He couldn't afford to be wrong this time.

They remained silent as they made their way back into the squad room. Quiet still followed them as they slipped into Gil's office and he plugged in the coordinates. He let out a sigh of relief as a cabin appeared on the screen, just as the Albanian had said. It was in the Appalachians, a little ways off from the flight path they would've been on had Malcolm and JT actually been flying to DC.

"I'll get us a plane, you get us a SWAT team," Gil said. "Let's bring our boys home." He was picking up his phone to make some calls before he even finished speaking. Dani nodded and left. He knew she would secure them the best SWAT team that the NYPD had to offer. The woman was an incredible force of nature when she was passionate about something. It was for that very reason that Gil pulled her onto the major crimes unit.

It was longer than Gil would've liked - well, anything longer than immediately was longer than Gil liked when it was his kid in danger - but an hour later, he and Dani and a full SWAT team were loaded up and on their way down to the cabin. As it turned out, piling up favors with the higher ups paid off. A local SWAT team was already on their way to storm the cabin, and would be reporting back to Gil on his sat phone. Really, he and Dani and their SWAT team were only backup. As much as Gil hated that, if it meant that his kid and JT got out of there sooner, then it was worth it. Still, Gil stared down at his sat phone, anxious for it to light up, hoping beyond hope that the message would be that Malcolm and JT had been safely recovered.

"They're gonna be fine," Dani said from her spot next to him on the military plane they'd borrowed. "This is Bright and JT, they're two of the toughest guys I've ever met. Bright is too stubborn to die, and JT is too protective to let him. They'll be fine," she insisted, but Gil could see the doubt warring with that certainty in her eyes.

"That kid just can't stay out of trouble, can he?" Gil said with a sardonic smile. Of course, out of anyone who could've pissed off the Albanian mafia, it was Malcolm. "Even as a teenager, there was always something, and it usually wasn't even his fault." He shook his head. This wasn't the kid's fault either. Fate just seemed to have it out for him.

"But you raised him well," Dani said. She bumped his shoulder with her own and gave him a small smile. "He's strong and brave and completely selfless. That's all because of you."

Gil wasn't so sure he agreed, but he wouldn't argue it. He went back to staring at the sat phone. The local SWAT team should have been breaching the cabin that very moment.

"JT is the best of the best, you know that," Dani continued. "That's why you brought him to major crimes. That's why you made him go with Bright in the first place. No matter what happens, JT is not going to stop trying to keep him safe, and Bright won't let anything happen to JT either. They're just too stubborn." That brought a smile out of Gil. He couldn't disagree with that one. The whole major crimes unit was known for their tenacity, often to the chagrin of others. "They're going to protect each other," she repeated.

Gil nodded. She was definitely right on that note. As much as JT pretended to not care about the kid, Gil knew the man would die to protect Malcolm, and Malcolm would sacrifice himself for JT in a heartbeat. He just hoped that the mafia didn't realize that.

A few minutes later, the sat phone buzzed with a short buzz. Gil answered immediately.

"What've you got?" he asked, getting straight to it.

"The cabin's destroyed, a car went straight through it. There's a lot of bodies, but they're all Albanians. No sign of your boys," the man on the other said. Gil felt pride swelling in his chest. Of course they'd fought back. JT was a brick wall who wouldn't be taken down without a fight, and Malcolm, despite his size, was one of the best fighters that Gil had ever met and was a wildcat to wrestle. They'd managed to take down all of the Albanians they'd come across, it seemed. Maybe they really were okay. "There's no tire tracks leaving, either west or east," the man continued. "But there are two sets of footprints heading east, and some blood. We're gonna start following them, but we're expecting to run into more hostiles. We'll keep you updated on our position. But it's important you know that it appears as though someone was tortured here. We need to be realistic about the condition your boys may be in when we find them."

"Thank you, captain," Gil replied with a terse nod, then the line went dead. Short of finding and rescuing them, that was the best news that he could've hoped for. He just had to focus on the positives, not the stake through his chest at the thought of his kid or JT being tortured. Gil couldn't take that again. Memories of the kid after Watkins still played on repeat in Gil's head all too often, and he knew that time still haunted Malcolm too. The boy had suffered so much in his life, so much more than most people ever did. He'd had enough trauma for several lifetimes. He really didn't need any more.

"I told you they'd fight hard," Dani commented with a small smile, bumping his shoulder. "They don't know how to give up. They didn't find their bodies, and there were two sets of footprints leaving, so they're okay." Gil nodded again. She had to be right. He didn't know what he would do if they weren't okay.

They landed at the airstrip shortly after, and it was then that the sat phone buzzed again. This time, it read the brief message, "encountered hostiles, exchanging fire." That sent Gil's heartbeat racing. As much as he believed in the determination and sheer stubbornness of JT and Malcolm, he wasn't naïve enough to believe that the Albanian mafia was going to give them up without a fight. It was probably a fight to see who would find them first, and Gil needed to make sure that he won.

He remained silent as they piled into the the van, weapons making them ready for war. Gil glanced at Dani next to him. She was jittery, her added nerves likely due to the similarity between the current situation and her attempt to rescue Malcolm from Watkins at the cabin, before realizing that he wasn't even there. He put his hand on her bouncing knee.

"We're gonna find them," he said, tossing her own words back at her with a sad smile. She smiled and nodded.

"I know we will," she said, sounding much more confident than Gil knew she felt. Her gave her knee another gentle squeeze before leaning back in his seat and taking a deep breath.

It wasn't the first time that Malcolm had been lost somewhere, needing Gil to come find him. Usually, the kid was only lost in his own head, but there had been a time when Malcolm had needed Gil to physically come rescue him.

When he was about fourteen, the kid had been on the bus after a particularly rough day at school, and was so lost in his head that he didn't realize he'd missed his stop until it was far too late, and he was very far from home. He'd gotten off then, but, not knowing the area, he'd ended up wandering into a really bad part of town. He called Gil.

"I don't- I don't know where I am," he said, his voice shaking. It drove daggers into Gil's heart.

"Do you know which borough you're in? Can you see any street signs near you?" he asked him, already rushing to his car, barely taking the time to tell Jackie what was going on.

Malcolm rattled off the names of two streets. "I'm in the Bronx, I think," he said. His voice was low, almost a whisper, as if he didn't want anyone to hear him talking. Gil immediately began searching the map he kept in his car for those streets. "I'm in an alley. I don't want anyone to see me."

Gil couldn't have agreed more. A preppy rich kid in a high crime area? Malcolm was practically begging to be attacked. Gil didn't blame the boy for sounding scared.

"I'm on my way, I'm coming right to you, okay? Just stay out of sight, and stay on the phone. I'll be right there," Gil said, trying not to let the fear slink into his own voice. If something happened to that kid because Gil couldn't get there in time, he would never forgive himself. "You don't have to say anything, just stay on the line," he said. Gil didn't want Malcolm to make any noise if it might draw attention to him, but he needed the line to be kept open, just in case something did happen.

A few minutes later, Malcolm spoke again, his voice small and scared. "Gil, they saw me, they're coming towards me, I don't know what to do, Gil, where are you?" he rushed out. Gil's heart dropped into his stomach.

"I'm almost there, kid, just another minute," he said, pushing down more on the gas.

"I don't know if I have that," Malcolm muttered. Gil heard shouting, but he couldn't make out any of the words. "I don't want any trouble," Malcolm said, his voice steady and strong despite the fear that Gil knew he felt. There were more muffled words, and Gil still couldn't make them out.

"Hang on, kid," Gil said, but Malcolm didn't respond to him.

"My dad's a cop, and he's on his way here right now, so I really think you should leave me alone," Malcolm said. Gil was too busy focusing on the faint tremor in his kid's voice to process that Malcolm had called him his dad.

He heard the distinct thud of a fist hitting flesh, followed by a sound that Gil knew far more intimately than he wanted to: Malcolm's cry of pain.

"Leave him alone!" he shouted, but the only answer he got was the clatter of the cell phone hitting the ground. Gil turned the corner as quickly as he could and began scanning each alley as he passed them. He slammed on the breaks at the third alley. About halfway down, there was a group of three guys, about college age, all standing over a figure on the ground. It had to be Malcolm. Gil bolted out of the car, barely taking the time to even turn it off, and drew his weapon. His badge was on full display. "NYPD! Let him go!" he shouted as he ran down the alley. The boys all cursed and bolted down the alley in the opposite direction. Gil let them run. He'd call it in later, but he knew the chances of an arrest were slim to none. As much as he wanted to give chase and put the men who hurt his kid behind bars, staying with said kid and making sure he was okay was always going to be more important.

Gil holstered his gun and dropped to his knees next to Malcolm, who was still curled up in a fetal position, doing what he could to cover his head with his arms. His expensive shoes were gone, and there was no sign of the phone that had dropped to the ground. Gil could make a good guess that the kid's wallet would be gone too.

"Hey, it's okay, I'm here now," he gently said, resting his hand as softly as he could on Malcolm's shoulder. He couldn't tell if the kid flinched with how much he was already shaking, but, Malcolm slowly brought his arms down. "Are you okay? Do I need to call a bus?" he asked. Predictably, Malcolm immediately shook his head.

"I'm fine," he said, slowly sitting up and leaning against the alley's brick wall, exposing most of his injuries to Gil. He had what was going to be a truly impressive shiner, and a gash above his upper lip that looked particularly deep. Maybe Gil did need to call an ambulance, especially since he didn't know what the kid's clothes were covering. Based on the dirty boot prints on his torso, Gil knew that Malcolm's ribs were likely heavily bruised.

"You sure?" Gil asked him as he began to run his fingers through the kid's hair, checking for head wounds. Surprisingly, Malcolm let him.

"Yeah, you're here now," he said. Malcolm wasn't shaking anymore. "I'll be okay."

Satisfied that Malcolm had been spared a head wound, Gil held his hand out to help Malcolm to stand. "We need to stop that bleeding or else you'll need stitches," he warned, reaching for Malcolm's tie. The kid got the idea and started to hold it up to the gash with a wince.

"Mom is gonna be pissed that I ruined my clothes and scarred by face," he muttered, eyes downcast. Gil carefully led him back to the car, ready to catch the kid should he suddenly pass out.

"I think she'll be glad that you're okay more than anything," Gil insisted. The kid and his mother didn't have the best relationship as of late, leading to Malcolm spending more and more time with the Arroyos, but Gil knew that Jessica loved her children more than anything, she just didn't always show it. "I know I am," he added. He'd almost been too late. Those thugs could have crushed Malcolm's ribs or skull and killed him, all because Gil didn't get there in time. That gash on the kid's upper lip had scarred, reminding Gil every time he saw it that he had almost been too late. It had been way too close of a call.

It was that day that Gil kept thinking of as he and Dani and their SWAT team made it to the remains of the cabin, as their SWAT team went to assist the local one in the firefight, as he and Dani slipped away into the woods to follow those bloody footprints as best they could in the dark of night, as Gil froze when he heard the sound of someone softly crying.