~ oOo ~

OK, quick thing - I'm thinking about disabling guest reviews,
purely because I'm getting a little annoyed with a certain few
making comments I'd love to respond to and talk about but can't.
If you have a question and want to word it rudely, at least allow me
the chance to respond.

One thing I will address is this - The way Scarlett sees it, Marley is
only a target as long as she's with her and Rosalie, because Garrett
likes to pretend she doesn't exist. She's hoping it will operate on an
out of sight, out of mind scenario. If she's not there, he won't think
about her because he never did before when they were at the ranch.

Also, why would I purposefully try to make people mad at me? Craziness.

Anyways...I'M SORRY, THIS IS ANOTHER CLIFFIE, BUT I
PLAN TO POST THE FOLLOW-ON CHAPTER TOMORROW SO
YOU WON'T HAVE LONG TO WAIT. IF YOU WANT TO WAIT UNTIL
TOMORROW TO READ IT I TOTALLY UNDERSTAND :)

It was a monster chapter already, so I didn't want to chop the next one
in half and mess with the whole structure, so I'll post the two parts over
two days rather than making you wait until Friday. Hope that's ok.

~ oOo ~

**** FIC REC - Trainwreque's The Bookkeeper ****

CIA agent Bella Swan lives a meticulous, by-the-book life. Her world is turned upside down after she's given a high profile case. Does she tell the truth, or does she continue to lie to the man she's fallen in love with in order to bring down one of the worlds biggest crime bosses? AH. Rated M.

~ oOo ~

Summary: When two little girls were allowed to walk

home from school one bright spring day nobody could've

predicted the events that followed. The way two families

were torn apart by the vendetta of a deranged man.

Nearly twelve years on, we'll watch as the two girls stolen

away from their homes at eight years old fight to take

back their lives. If only it were as simple as escaping. AU

Pinky Promises

Chapter Nine

Sinking. That's what she was. Scarlett was sinking.

She'd thought she'd be ok. She thought she'd be able to drop Marley safe and sound with a healthcare professionals and it would all be fine. Marley would be able to give them the note, and she'd be able to concentrate on sorting this mess, on working out if they'd ever be able to go home to join her precious baby.

She'd been wrong.

She couldn't eat. She couldn't sleep. All she did all day and night was empty her stomach into a bucket, rinsing and repeating only to feel the nausea taking over once again a short while later. Eventually it was just bile and it burned her throat on the way up, each time more painful. She laid on the bed, shivering, as mute as her daughter and wracked with painful sobs. Nothing Rosalie did helped.

Scarlett had been wrong. She couldn't deal with being away from her baby. But she'd made that decision for Marley. Not herself. And boy, was she paying for it.

~ oOo ~

On arrival in Billings, Montana, there was yet another nondescript black car with tinted windows to take the group to the prearranged hotel. En-route Riley took a phone call from a colleague. He barked a new set of directions to the driver, then informed Charlie, Peter, and Edward that the girls were still AWOL, but there had been a possible sighting of the truck they made their getaway in. Agents were already following it up.

As Riley said, no news, in this instance, probably meant good news.

Bypassing the hotel entirely, Riley had John take them straight to the medical center where the child had been left. Nobody said a word until they got there, but as they walked up the steps, Charlie paused, bending and holding onto his knees.

"Hold on, I need…I need a second."

Riley nodded sympathetically, and Edward moved to rest a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Chuck, you ok?"

Charlie huffed, the sound full of a myriad of emotions. "I don't know, son. This is all so…"

"Crazy?" Edward supplied.

With a nod, Charlie stood shakily, hands clenched at his sides. "A few days ago I didn't know if I'd ever get to see my daughter again, and today I could be a hundred meters from her. And to top it all off I've just been told I've got a…a granddaughter."

Clearly choked up, and struggling to pull himself together, the men were still standing outside a few minutes later when a woman with long blonde hair and a friendly smile walked through the doors.

"Hello, are you Mr. Lawrence?"

Peter shook his head, nodding towards Riley as he stepped forward, palm outstretched.

"That'd be me. You must be Mandy." He turned to point to Charlie, Peter, and Edward out, naming them as he went. "Charlie's the grandfather you said is mentioned in the note."

Mandy smiled in greeting, her expression turning soft and sad at the mention of Marley. "Your assistant told me you'd be coming. I didn't expect you to be able to get here so quickly."

"We were already on our way," Riley admitted, edging towards the doors to the building. "Shall we get inside? Charlie, are you ready?"

What a big question. Charlie steeled himself as best he could, looking to Peter and Edward to draw some much-needed encouragement from their faces before nodding jerkily.

"Of course, come on through. Did you have a good flight?"

As Riley and Mandy exchanged pleasantries, Charlie, Peter, and Edward trailed behind them, each lost in their own thoughts.

Peter was worried for his friend, and for the sad-looking child he'd seen in the single photo Riley had.

Charlie was petrified of what he was about to see, of who he was about to see. He'd been the proudest man alive when Carl-Roman and Chase were born. This child, his grandchild, was five-years-old and he'd only just discovered she existed.

Edward's thoughts had wandered to a place his older friends were vehemently refusing to think of. If Scarlett had a child, that meant she'd had sex. They already knew, thanks to reports of visible injuries Riley's agents had reported, that Garrett had hurt Scarlett. Would it be such a big stretch to assume he might have committed the ultimate crime against a woman? To assume that this girl, who so clearly belonged to Scarlett, also belonged to the man who'd torn apart the two families she'd been born into?

Edward couldn't bear to think of the girl he remembered being hurt in any way, so he shoved those thoughts from his mind just as Mandy paused outside a clinic room door. She looked between Riley, and the other three men.

"I don't know how you want to do this. We need a DNA sample from you, Charlie, just to test against the sample we already have from Marley. She's very scared, and so far she hasn't spoken to anybody. It says in the note she had with her that she doesn't speak but we don't know if that's at all, ever or just in scary situations, which obviously this is for her."

"I'm going to need that note, please. How many people have touched it?" Riley asked sternly.

"Just me and Marley. I put it in a sterile bag when I realized what was going on, I'll fetch it for you."

Riley grinned, pleased. "Thank you."

"Ok, are we ready? You ready to meet your granddaughter, Charlie?"

Charlie made a funny noise in the back of his throat, but he managed a short dip of his head, so Mandy pushed the door open, leading the men inside.

The girl was sitting in the corner of the room by the solitary window. There was a chair right beside her but she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, stretching her neck up to be able to peer out of the window. In her lap she held a tattered bunny toy, her fingers kneading it, up and down the ears.

All eyes swiveled to Charlie as he took a step further into the room.

He was staring, transfixed. His gaze swept over the mane of chocolate curls adorning the child's head, a frown twisting his brow when he saw her skinny arms and legs. They weren't scarily thin, but she didn't appear to have an ounce of baby fat on her like Carl-Roman did. For a five-year-old she looked much older, her profile not rounded like her cousin's. She was dressed in a dark gray tracksuit, tiny feet encased in a pair of black trainers. She was miniature, like a little doll. Charlie had never seen a child of her age so small. Her year-older-cousin Carl-Roman would dwarf her.

The air in the room seemed to thin as Mandy called out to Marley in a soft voice. The child's head turned as if in slow motion.

The first thing they all noticed immediately were her eyes. Big, guileless sea-colored eyes.

Charlie's eyes.

And as she peered between Mandy and the four strangers, shrinking back slightly, she passed over Charlie before her gaze snapped back to him. She squinted, leaning forwards a little. It was obvious she recognized the similarities in her features and his – namely, their shared eye color. She began to stare, and just as it looked as though she was going to stand, possibly to come closer, she was shocked back onto her butt and scooted back into the corner as far as possible from the crowd in the doorway.

None of the men were quick enough to catch Charlie as the events of the day became too much, the air in his lungs escaping in a rush as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he collapsed in a heap on the tiled floor.

~ oOo ~

"I feel like a bloody idiot."

"Don't, Chuck, it's not your fault. You've been through a lot these past couple of days, it's no surprise," Peter assured his upset friend.

Charlie harrumphed, eyes softening as he raised the cigarette in his hand to his lips. He hadn't smoked in years, but shortly after they'd left the medical center an hour before he'd asked Riley if he could get an agent to grab him some cigarettes, and he'd spent the past half hour on the balcony of the hotel room Riley had booked.

Inside, he could see Marley and Edward. The little girl, his granddaughter, was sitting on the floor with her stuffed bunny and a sandwich the agent had picked up when he went for the cigarettes. She hadn't touched it at all. Instead, she'd just alternated between staring out of the balcony doors and sneaking peeks at Edward, who'd sat himself on the loveseat and allowed himself to get engrossed with watching the FBIs tech guru get himself set up in the corner. So far, nobody had been able to get a word out of Marley, so they were beginning to suspect that the note had meant she didn't talk at all.

Remembering the note, Charlie felt his anger rising back to the surface. Once he'd come to, embarrassed and annoyed with himself for frightening Marley, Charlie had been allowed to read the note she'd been given when Scarlett and Rosalie dropped her off. It had made him irate.

Dear whoever finds this note,

This is Marley, and she's five-years-old. I'm writing this note and I'm Isabella Scarlett Swan, Marley's mum, and I was kidnapped with my friend Rosalie Daisy Hale when we were eight years old by a man called Garrett Smith. Marley's biological father's name is Marcus Lucien. He worked on the ranch where Garrett has kept me and Rosalie for the past twelve years. We managed to escape but Garrett is still looking for us and Marley isn't safe with us, so please do me this favor and contact my dad, Charlie Swan, in Eastbourne, England, or Rosalie's dad Peter Hale – also from Eastbourne. She'll be safe with them. I don't know if the police are still or were ever looking for us, but if they were they'll be able to help you find my dad.

I'm trusting you with my baby, so please make sure she's safe. Thank you.

Scarlett Swan.

Charlie's eyes welled up, picturing the way his daughter's name had been written shakily and blurred by a handful of spots of moisture at the bottom of the photo. She'd been crying. And was it any wonder? She was a mother – it was still crazy to think of his baby having a baby herself – and she was going through the same thing he was, though in her case it was voluntary because she wanted her baby safe and protected.

She'd managed to fit that entire passage on the back of a six-by-four photography by writing very small and with the words squashed together, but there was still so much he wanted to know. About Marley, about the girl's father. He wanted to know if this Marcus Lucien was still alive, because if he was Charlie would kill him. He'd tear him limb from limb for daring to touch his baby girl.

Nobody had been able to hide the facts from their faces as realization had dawned. There was no doubt Marley was Scarlett's. She looked exactly like her, hair color aside. And from the note they'd received from Marley they knew she was five-years-old.

And Scarlett was just twenty-one a month ago. Which meant they couldn't deny the uncomfortable truth.

Scarlett could only have been sixteen at the oldest when she'd given birth to Marley.

So yes, Charlie would love to get hold of Marcus Lucien. He'd never been a violent man. This entire ordeal was changing that.

"Why do you think they did it?" Charlie asked suddenly.

Peter pulled his gaze from the distance to look at him. "Did what? Left Marley at the hospital?"

Charlie nodded grimly.

"I don't know. I guess…well, they wanted her to be safe and they obviously didn't think she'd be safe if she stayed with them. I don't know why they didn't just stay with her though, and come back to us with them. That part I can't make head nor tail of."

Charlie couldn't either. He couldn't understand why Scarlett and Rosalie had chosen to stay hidden when they could finally have been found. They could have been protected, too. They would have been safe. But they'd chosen to stay lost and it didn't make sense. Not to their fathers, nor to Edward, or Riley.

"They must have their reasons, I suppose."

The men slipped into silence once more, both staring out over the landscape below. They were on the top floor of a fairly shitty hotel, but Riley had explained to them the reason for staying somewhere like that was because it would be easier to hide there. Nobody would be looking for the FBI in a dingy hotel like this one, if anybody were looking at all.

A few minutes later, Charlie cast a look inside, unable to keep his eyes away from Marley for longer than a handful of minutes at a time. He just couldn't believe his own sight.

The view that greeted him this time made him grin despite himself.

Marley had obviously grown curious enough of Edward and Ben – the FBI tech guy – to leave her spot on the carpet. She'd edged closer to them in the corner, Edward having had joined Ben to better see what he was up to. The bunny she hadn't once let go of was still firmly in her clutches, but was now hanging at her side as she slinked nearer to Edward and Ben. She had to stretch a little to see them better, and the sight was an adorable on as she rose onto tiptoes to watch what the men were up to.

Charlie saw the moment Edward noticed her. He didn't outwardly acknowledge her, not really, but he did smile to himself and adjust his stance so she could see more. As the next few minutes passed Charlie watched her creep around the end table until she was just scant feet from Edward. Through the thin patio doors he listened to what was being said, motioning for Peter to do the same.

"Are you ok, sweetness?" He murmured when she was just a foot or two away.

Marley's eyes flashed to him, her steps faltering. She didn't realize she'd been caught.

Remembering too late that she didn't speak, he crouched a little so they were closer to eye-level, smiling gently. "Do you want to come and watch us? It's ok, nobody here will hurt you, little sweet."

Marley seemed to consider this for a moment. Charlie held his breath. She hadn't willingly gone to anyone yet, not that he knew. Mandy had told them that when she'd tried to pick her up earlier the little girl had struggled so much she'd been afraid of dropping her, and she'd had to point out the way to the clinic room where she'd been waiting. When it had come time to leave the medical center she'd walked of her own accord to the waiting black car at the back of the building, and walked into the hotel the same way – protected by a square of men around her as she went.

With a proud smile tinged with a small amount of jealousy, Charlie watched as Marley visibly steeled herself and made her decision. She held out her skinny arms, the bunny still dangling from one tiny hand, allowing Edward to pick her up and hold her at his hip. She settled there with a look of hesitance on her face, and held herself away from his body as he pointed out all the various pieces of equipment Ben had already laid out. She seemed pleased to be included, though the morose look on her face didn't dissipate. Not wanting to miss out on the chance to see Marley livening up, Charlie stubbed out his cigarette and tossed it into the rubbish bin beside the plastic chair his butt had molded to, wandering inside with a squeak of the patio doors behind him.

As soon as she spotted him, Marley's face changed. She shrunk into herself, and tucked her body into the curve of Edward's chest until her face was buried in his neck, though she was still peering out through the curtain of her hair. Charlie's stomach fell. He'd scared her by fainting earlier, that much was clear.

And he knew he'd messed up when reading the note left by Scarlett. Despair had gotten the best of him and he'd hit the table with a balled-up fist just as Mandy ushered Marley into the room after a trip to the toilet. She'd squealed in fright, and hadn't come anywhere close to him since.

"She's ok, Chuck, she's just overwhelmed, I think. This is all a bit much for her," Edward murmured.

"Well she's ok with you," Charlie waved a desolate hand towards her, cuddled into him. It should be him soothing her. He was her grandfather. Her Pawpaw, if she chose to use the same name as Carl-Roman. That's if she did speak. Obviously it wouldn't matter what he was referred to if she continued being mute.

"I think I can solve that," Ben interjected. He'd been quiet up till then, just observing. When all eyes swiveled to him he grinned toothily. "I think it freaks her out to see the similarities between you and her mom. Your eyes and hair, possibly some of your facial expressions. Edward doesn't look anything like her, and there's no pressure with him. Kids are mega intuitive, you know, so she probably realizes that it' different with you."

The three men soaked up Ben's words, all silent.

They couldn't deny that of all of them, Marley had reacted the strongest to Charlie. She'd been a curious mix of frightened and inquisitive when she first saw him, and if he hadn't inadvertently frightened her by fainting, who knew what she'd have done when she'd made to move closer back in that clinic.

"So, you think I should stop trying to push it and let her come to me?" Charlie asked, eyes darting backwards and forwards between Marley resting her head in Edward's neck, and Ben.

The FBI agent gave him a nod-shrug combo. "I don't know what to suggest, Sir, but that'd be the way I'd go. She's clearly curious about you, but for whatever reason she's latched onto Edward here. I'd say let her explore what she's comfortable with. She'll come to you, in her own time."

"Ok," Charlie sighed. "Ok."

Nobody mentioned it, but the dejection in his tone was palpable.

~ oOo ~

Everybody made themselves as comfortable as possible at the hotel to wait the search out. Charlie, Peter, and Edward had originally asked to be able to put their feet to the ground and help, so it had been explained in explicit detail how reckless it would have been for them do to so, especially considering one very important fact. Well, two.

One; Smith was still on the loose somewhere.

And two; every time Edward left the room, Marley would search frantically for him until he returned.

Clearly, they both meant nobody was keen for the men to leave the hotel, and so they didn't.

To distract themselves, Charlie and Peter called home to Archie, Heidi, Pippa, and Peter's parents, while Edward worked hard to buoy his friends' spirits as well as help Marley adjust to her new surroundings.

By the time night fell, the jet lag and exhaustion of the day had caught up to the two older men, dragging them into a sleep haunted by the girls' faces hovering just out of reach.

While they fidgeted restlessly in their beds, Edward sat on the sofa in the small living area, the tap of Ben's laptop keys comforting in the otherwise quiet room. Marley was sitting on the floor over by the patio doors, her bunny tucked under one arm, her face resting in her cupped hands as she leant on them, elbows propped on her crossed knees. The position didn't look very comfortable but by then she'd been sitting that way for almost forty minutes, so it couldn't have been too bad. She was silent, as usual, but Edward suspected she was getting tired as she'd stopped her incessant fiddling with the bunny's ears to stare out of the doors instead, her head lolling to one side just a touch.

"Marley, are you sleepy?" He called when the small digital clock on the end table read 21:44. He didn't spent a whole lot of time around children, but he didn't think quarter to ten was a particularly normal time for a five-year-old to still be up.

Marley turned her head a little, peering at him from the corner of her eye. To say she was comfortable around Edward wasn't completely true, but she at least didn't seem to be as wary as she was around Riley, Charlie, or Peter. Edward classed it as a win, purely because it meant the little girl could at least find comfort somewhere in this strange, fucked-up situation she was in. He couldn't comprehend how scared she must be. All those strange faces, unfamiliar places.

Edward smiled, cocking his head and opening his arms in invitation. "Do you want to come sit with me? We can watch TV for a little bit 'til you fall asleep."

Marley frowned, but she rose slowly to her feet and made her way over, letting him set her on the sofa beside him. She held the bunny with its back to her front, staring up at Edward as he smiled down at her and reached for the TV remote. It was only a small screen, but he hoped it would be enough to send her to sleep so she could get some rest and sleep off the hard day she'd had.

"Now, let's see what we can get, huh?"

Marley stared blankly at him. He chuckled, shaking his head and switching on the TV set. As soon as the screen flashed to life he was forgotten, Marley's focus shifted completely. She was riveted by the moving colors and patterns as a smartly dressed woman presented the nightly weather report. Edward couldn't help but stare at her face. It seemed ludicrous to him, but within ten minutes after Marley had refused to move her gaze from the TV set even once, he was sure she was seeing a television for the first time. She was engrossed. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before. She appeared utterly bemused, unwilling to look away for even a second.

He'd heard all about kids addicted to their shows, but this was something different.

Pulling his mobile from his pocket, Edward sneakily took a few photos of Marley's face and the TV, then he sat back and gently touched Marley's shoulder. It took a minute or so, then she twisted to look up at him. Her eyes were comically wide, alight with the glow of a child learning her new world. He couldn't help but grin at the sight.

"Shall we try and lay down? Get some sleep?"

It definitely couldn't be said that Marley was silly, or didn't understand speech. As soon as the word 'sleep' left Edward's mouth her saw the first sign of her being a normal five-year-old. She scowled, shooting the TV – which had now segued into a cookery show – a pointed look before peering back up at Edward in entreaty. She may not have verbalized it but her request was clear. She wanted to watch TV. And Edward couldn't bear to say no to a child who had been through the stress she had, so he sighed and decided to bargain with her.

"Tell you what little sweet, you can watch more TV if you lay down and try to sleep, at least. Ok?"

Marley moved right away, shuffling around until she was comfortable resting her head on a pillow against the side of Edward's leg. She was a tiny little thing so she stretched out comfortable within the two thirds left of the sofa beside him, bunny tucked against her chest, eyes firmly trained on the TV set once more. Edward couldn't help but laugh quietly to himself, getting comfortable for a night on the sofa. He'd slept in far more uncomfortable places while travelling, so it didn't bother him in the slightest.

And besides, what was a little lost sleep to ensure a sweet, deprived child had as easy a first night of complete freedom as possible?

~ oOo ~

The next morning dawned bright and warm, the sky clear, the air heavier than Charlie and Peter were used to. It had been over seventy-two hours since Scarlett and Rosalie left the ranch house and still, there had been no sign of them. The sighting mentioned the day before had been a false lead, so the agents were back at square one, scouring the wilderness for two likely-terrified young women. The witness had informed them of Scarlett's head injury by then, the news of which sent Charlie into a rage that shocked Riley, a man with no children, significant other, or relatives to speak of – therefore no frame of reference for how the man felt. It was like a bullet to the guy for Charlie, who'd been assuming the girls had both been uninjured to have gotten away. Ice shot through his veins as he imagined his daughter in worse shape than they'd previously thought, without the ability to get the medical attention they suspected she needed.

In the end, it was Edward who managed to calm him with the reminder that both girls were always intelligent beyond their years – if Scarlett desperately needed treatment Rosalie would get it for her, of that he had no doubt. The close bond the duo shared was something Riley's agents had noticed and passed on, so the possibility of Rosalie taking Scarlett to a medical center of some description was what they were all banking on. With an APB out for the girls' safe return, Riley was certain somebody would get in contact if either of them turned up.

~ oOo ~

Tense minutes turned into agonizing days. Charlie and Peter clung to their only lifeline – hope.

Edward tried valiantly to keep their spirits high, regaling everyone who would listen – including Marley who lapped his attention up eagerly – with tales of his shenanigans with Archie, Scarlett, and Rosalie when they were all younger.

Still, they clung to the knowledge that the girls were out there, possibly only minutes away and closer then than they had been in over twelve years. They were eternally thankful for the army of agents scouring the state for them.

Riley found himself pulled in directions he hadn't previously considered, the discover of the suspect's connection to the victims opening up a whole new can of worms. They had a motive, finally. Smith had been endlessly jealous of Charlie, and documents had been uncovered that had been found in his childhood home during a raid, Charlie's name featured in a number of disturbing doodles. He'd sheepishly admitted that his captaincy of the football team as well as his status as prefect and head boy in his final year had made him popular, which also seemed to have been a trigger for Smith.

Until they found Smith, there was only so much more they could surmise. They'd have to wait until they could talk to him.

~ oOo ~

"I'll go mad if we're stuck in this place for too much longer," Peter groaned quietly, gazing out through the small window into the concrete courtyard masquerading as a garden. The men had been moved to a safe house outside Billings, Montana's largest city, and had been since the third day after their arrival. FBI agents surrounded the building, with one posted inside, his presence intimidating purely because of his enormous stature and prolonged silence.

Riley left the house with the promise that he'd return immediately if there were any developments, but that was hours before and he hadn't been in contact since.

The men were going stir crazy.

"Did you call the girls?" Charlie asked from a stained beige sofa, hoping to distract himself and Peter. The oppressing silence, both literal and metaphorical, was beginning to get to him.

Peter huffed out a sigh and nodded. "They were going to bed. Mum said to say 'keep your chin up'."

"Sounds like Mary, alright," Charlie mused.

Peter hummed in agreement, eyes starting to blur with the endless swath of gray in front of them. He turned to face the room instead of the courtyard. It obviously hadn't been used in a while. The carpet, once purple, was faded and worn almost bare in places. Floral wallpaper made their eyes hurt whenever they looked at it while the matching sofa cushions were torn, dusty, and long-forgotten. On arrival Riley had apologized for the state of the place, but Ben had picked up attempts to get past his electronic blocks. If the case had been compromised by journalists or the suspect himself there would have been hell to pay, so they'd taken the chance to move Charlie, Peter, Edward, and Marley to a new, safer location that was easier to monitor and guard. It was ensconced in the outskirts of a suburb called Lockwood, roughly ten minutes from the city and easy enough for the numerous agents to blend into.

"Carl-Roman sent a picture for us." Charlie frowned at his phone a few minutes later, seeing the attachment pop up with a text from Archie which simple read 'hurry home all of you love Champ'. Peter joined Charlie, the pair sharing a bemused glance before looking at the screen again. When the photo popped up they found themselves battling chuckles. Carl-Roman' face took up the entire screen, cheeks smeared with war paint, lips turned up on one side in a faux-serious expression.

"That kid…" Peter sighed. He missed his little godson something fierce. Though both he and Charlie were trying not to think about it, this was the first time either of them had been away from their homes for longer than a night since the girls went missing. Carl-Roman' bright, blue-green eyes and silly face made them more homesick than they'd like to admit, the unfamiliarly humid air and tense situation only worsening the feeling.

"He's sure something." Charlie's mind wandered to the boy's birth, a frenzy in the middle of the night. It was one of the best nights of Charlie's life, overtaken only by the births of his own two children and his wedding night all those years ago—

Before Charlie could finish his though, the screeching of tires interrupted. Heavy footsteps and a muffled shout preceded Riley's entrance. His hair was disheveled, eyes wide, breaths leaving his body in quick pants.

"We've had a sighting."

With those words everything seemed to fade away. Edward appeared from the kitchen where he'd been making a coffee, Charlie and Peter shooting to their feet. "They were spotted this morning on gas surveillance footage just outside of Lewistown."

A snap of his fingers later and Ben had opened up a map on his laptop, moving it to the coffee-ring stained end table. The group leaned over it, their eyes following the line Ben drew by inputting the coordinates Riley rattled off. The line went from the safe house they stood in to a tiny peck they soon realized was the gas station. It wasn't far. Not far at all.

"I've got agents headed there now." Riley's eyes met Charlie's, Peter's, then Edward's. "It won't be long, guys. They're close. You need to prepare yourselves. They aren't going to look the same as they did when you last saw them. They're very different now, as you saw in my surveillance images. They won't look the same, sound the same, act the same…they've been through more than most people ever have to even imagine." The next words were ones he hated to even think, let alone say to their fathers and childhood friend. Nevertheless, it was his duty to prepare them. "We don't know exactly how they've been treated during their time here, we don't know what they've been told. We can guess, but that's it. Do you understand? Their reactions to you may not be the ones you want or expect."

It took a few moments for the men to read between the lines, but when it did they reacted visibly. The thought of their girls' faces drawn into displeased or frightened expressions cut them to the core, hearts breaking, eyes prickling with hot tears. It had been a long time since Charlie or Peter had been embarrassed to cry in front of people. It was a widespread notion that men shouldn't cry, but when you'd been dealt one Earth-shattering loss after the other what else could you give? Until Scarlett was wrapped in Charlie's arms and Rosalie was in Peter's neither man would be whole again. To think their precious daughters might not be a heart-wrenchingly happy to see them as they would be causes more pain than they knew what to deal with. The past few days had been a rollercoaster of ups and downs, of discovering secret children, living with the agony of not knowing whether Scarlett and Rosalie were alive or dead, of finding them halfway around the world, and of having the acute awareness tingling within their spines that their long-lost daughters were just miles away. So close, yet so far.

Two excruciating hours passed without word from Riley's agents out in the field. Charlie paced restlessly around the house while Peter showered and Edward introduced Marley to the wonderful world of cartoons. One of the agents had rustled up an old DVD player from somewhere and some DVDs of cartoons like Bugs Bunny and Spongebob Squarepants. As soon as he'd put them on she'd been engrossed, crouched in front of the TV on folded knees, bunny squashed against her belly, eyes glued to the characters.

It had been during an episode of the latter that Edward had managed to catch her first smile on camera. She'd been watching intently, as usual, and he'd just walked into the room on his phone when he heard her huff. Looking up, he was surprised to find that the huff was an almost-silent laugh, her hands up covering her mouth as she shook a little. Squidward was doing something she deemed funny, and when she realized Edward had entered the room her hands dropped but left her smile behind for just enough seconds that he managed to switch from Facebook to his camera to catch it.

Of course, Charlie had been gutted to miss it, but he'd already had Edward send him the photo and it was now his screensaver, alongside a photo of Carl-Roman and baby Chase.

By the time the sunset on their fourth day in Montana, they were fed up of waiting.

Charlie emerged from his shower, heading to the courtyard where Peter sat on an old, fold-up camping chair. A lone bird circled overhead, the faint breeze ruffling Charlie's damp strawberry-blond curls. For the first time he was aware of the gray sprinkled through the hair at his temples, the streaks in the strands atop his head. Lines had etched themselves into his face seemingly overnight, though in reality they'd been there for more than a few years. Charlie had begun to let his shaving regime go, and he now wore the beginnings of an impressive mustache, something he'd always sworn not to like. The once-vibrant blue-green eyes his wife had fallen in love with had been dimmed by year after year of disappointing nothing, by the passing birthdays, Fathers Days when only one 'Dad' card sat on the mantle instead of two – though in recent years it had been joined by 'Pawpaw' cards from the boys. Nine Christmases had come and gone without the delicious scent of freshly baked gingerbread or the bright pink garlands Scarlett had always insisted on making and stringing to go on every available surface.

As evening slipped into night, light blue sky turning to inky navy, the made way for a blanket of stars and the group of men convened in the living room with Marley content to eat in front of the TV – nobody wanted to be the mean one to pull her away from it, not just yet when it made her so happy -, though nobody really touched their meal. An old stuffed owl stared from a shelf as the clock ticked, its ominous beat loud once the guards returned to their stations around the house.

Riley left to join his team in the city so Charlie and Peter found themselves at a loss for something to do, Edward eventually persuading Marley to lay on the sofa beside him where she fell asleep with her bunny, one hand wrapped in the loose material of the tracksuit bottoms he wore.

The minutes trickled by in slow motion, the deceivingly loud ticking of the clock heralding every new second they were away from Scarlett and Rosalie.

~ oOo ~

Meanwhile, somewhere near Lewistown…

"You've got to eat something, Barley," Rosalie urged. She extended her hand further towards Scarlett, the plastic bowl of fruit salad turning her stomach even when she simply turned her head to eye it.

Ever since they'd returned to the hotel after dropping Marley off, she'd been mute. Unable or unwilling to make any sound other than the retching that accompanied the many bouts of sickness she'd been experiencing at all hours of the days and nights.

Rosalie barely managed to get water down her, ushering Scarlett into the shower each morning, but that was about the extent of the blonde's activity. Her body unmoving, Scarlett's haunted gaze followed Rosalie as she moved around, keeping the old curtains tightly closed, water and a bucket close by. Rosalie was just about keeping her fear at a distance, crying silently into her pillow once she thought Scarlett was asleep.

Little did she know, Scarlett heard everything. She'd slept in fits and starts ever since being knocked unconscious days before. Each time sleep crept up on her terror shoved it away again. Her heart sped up, body pulling taut with pain. And with the phantom feel of Smith's fingers around her neck Scarlett couldn't let her guard down. Not even for a second.

The traumatized young woman was stuck in limbo – unable to help Rosalie the way she wanted to, unable to help herself, and unable to help her daughter. It had seemed like the only option, the only way she could make her safe. But being unable to hold Marley, to sing her to sleep or do her hair exactly the way the little girl liked it, it was killing her.

While Rosalie cried herself to sleep each night Scarlett sent apology after heartfelt apology to their families, hating that by running they'd put their dads and siblings in danger. In the heat of the moment all she'd been able to think of was that they'd never have another chance to leave. He'd never let them. Worry had come later, every sound similar to booted footsteps making her alternately relieved and petrified.

If he's looking for us, he's not looking for Marley or hurting our family in England. She made it her mantra between bouts of debilitating nausea and body-numbing fear. Hour after hour of sitting in the dingy motel room gave both girls time to think.

Rosalie's thoughts were clouded with nerves, worry for Scarlett, and fear or what would come next. She didn't know where to go from there, what to do, how to help Scarlett overcome this depression she'd spiraled into.

And Scarlett…she failed to keep hold of any thought but Marley's face for longer than a second or two, everything swept away in a flood of endless unknowns. A flood that he'd started but had no further control over.

~ oOo ~

At just after ten a.m. on day four at the motel, Scarlett moved.

She stood absent-mindedly, almost in a trance, and shuffled from the bed to the bathroom for the first time without prompting or Rosalie's body as support. Rosalie's stunned but proud eyes followed her staggered steps.

The sun had risen hours before, bright in the blue sky with wispy, cotton-ball clouds drifting aimlessly around it. A stray mongrel could be heard, his muffled bark audible through the thin walls of the aged motel. As Rosalie heard the telltale sounds of Scarlett using the toilet and switching on the shower, she smiled shakily to herself and fought back tears. Perhaps today would be a good day.

~ oOo ~

A middle-aged couple arrived during the previous afternoon, the loud music blaring from the crackly television in their room almost drowning out the crunch of tires on gravel outside. The woman, a thin lady with lank blonde hair and hollowed cheekbones, flicked listlessly through the limited channels available while her boyfriend showered on the other side of the bathroom door. Bored, she tossed the remote control towards the holey sofa and stood, moving over to the window. One bony finger tracing the tape holding two sections of glass together, she peered out at the beaten up car pulling in next to the rusty truck she'd seen two girls getting out of earlier in the day. Fed up with the meagre options on the TV, she discreetly watched the man who'd climbed out as he leant against the gray and blue car before lighting up a cigarette. The cherry-red end glowed, the woman's eyes taking in his gray ponytail, beard-covered jaw, and scruffy clothes. He looked like a tramp.

Her eyes jumped briefly back to the TV screen, the bad signal making the news anchor's voice sound jumpy. She heard his announcement that the search had begun for two missing girls in Montana, though. At first she didn't even think of her neighbors a couple of doors down, but then he described them. The forty-something year old woman may have had waning eyesight but when squinting at the screen it was obvious her neighbors were indeed the girls she was staring at.

Their curtains were drawn tight and neither girl had ventured out since that morning – now she knew why. They were on the run. The news anchor wrapped up the piece by listing a contact number for anyone with information before a redhead began outlining the weather forecast.

She hadn't even gotten thirty seconds into it before the woman in the motel room had snatched up her boyfriend's phone, dialing the number while it lingered in her mind. It rung a few times before a woman with an accent answered.

"Is this who I need to talk to about the missing girls? I just saw them on the news," she breathed, heart pounding, mind wandering to the young women fifty feet away. When the dispatcher answered in the affirmative and patched her through to somebody else she sat heavily on the bed, her boyfriend emerging from the bathroom sporting a towel around his waist. He offered a questioning smile just as a man's voice came on the line.

She pulled in a shaky breath, "I know where those two women are. The ones on the news." A question. "At the shabby motel right outside Lewistown. The one with the light split in two bits and off on the right side, I can't remember the name. They're in the room just down from me. I've seen them."

The couple's distraction with the phone call meant that they didn't see the greasy-haired man moving from his spot beside the car until it was too late.

~ oOo ~

In room nineteen, Scarlett wandered back into the main room on freshly-socked feet. Brow knitted tight, she stared at the bed on the far side of the room where she'd left Rosalie not five minutes ago. She'd promised not to move.

"Sc-scarlett…" Rosalie croaked.

Tangled blonde curls flopped over a slender shoulder as Scarlett jerked her head sideways to find the voice. She, Rosalie, stood stock-still by the chipped-paint-door, white-knuckling something that looked from the other side of the room like a piece of paper. Scowling at her inability to ask what was wrong, her throat sore from throwing up so often, she moved across the carpet silently, reaching out a hand to touch Rosalie's fist.

"I-it's a no-note f-for us," she stuttered.

Frowning, Scarlett squeezed in question. What does it say?

Petrified baby-blues met confused azure, swimming with panic. Her lips trembled around the whispered words imprinted on her memory already.

"You left me to die. Now it's your turn to burn."

As the words sank in, a glowing spear crashed through the window, catching the curtains on its way through before igniting the carpet. Within seconds flames danced in the girls' eyes, their only escape route cut off by the quickly spreading inferno.