I own nothing except the plot line and a few OCs. The Almighty Larson owns the rest.

Angel remained in the lieutenant's office while the reporters were being forcefully removed from the station. Maureen was holding her hand. She kept staring at the picture of Collins. Baker had told her to think happy thoughts, but that was proving to be easier said than done. The drag queen couldn't help but picture her boyfriend in the worst possible state. She just hated the fact that he was somewhere being held against his will and she couldn't do anything about it.

"How are you holding up?" Baker asked, walking into the office. Angel shrugged, her eyes remaining on the picture. "I'm sure we'll find him. I'm refusing to take anymore cases until we do."

"See, Angel?" Maureen said. "Collins is top priority. He'll be home before we know it." Angel said nothing and looked up at Baker.

"When you told me to think happy thoughts, you sounded like you were speaking from experience," she said. "Were you?"

"Unfortunately, I was," Baker replied. "Four years ago when my husband and I first got engaged, I arrested the biggest drug lord in New York at the time. He was sentenced to life without the possibility of parole. About six months after the trial, my husband and I went to the bank to deposit a check to pay for our wedding and the bank was held up by the drug lord's little brother."

"He was mad at you, wasn't he?" Maureen asked.

"Mad is an understatement. Everyone in the bank was held hostage for five hours. He let everyone go except my husband and told me I'd never see him again unless I got his brother out of prison. Then he escaped out of a door in the back of the bank."

"What did you do?" Angel asked.

"I wasn't allowed to do anything. The lieutenant wouldn't put me on the case. I was a complete wreck the entire time he was missing."

"How long was he gone?"

"Four months. He was found in a shed with his hands and feet bound with barbed wire." Baker paused for a moment. "The first case he got when he came back to work after taking some time off was a kidnapping. He couldn't handle the memories of what happened to him and he ended up quitting."

"He was detective?" Baker nodded.

"He's got permanent scars and a severe case of post traumatic stress disorder, but he's getting better. It took me two years to convince him to get help dealing with everything."

"Do you think that will happen to Collins?" Angel's voice was laced with panic. Maureen gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"My goal is to get to him before then."

"Detective Baker," Joanne said, peeking into the office. "Our friends are back and they think they have something." Baker, Maureen, and Angel followed Joanne to Ed's desk. Mark, Roger, Mimi, and Sanders were standing around it. Upon seeing Angel, Mimi ran to her best friend and enveloped her in a hug, which the drag queen returned.

"We saw the press conference," Mimi told her friend. "You were so brave, chica." The hug soon ended and Mimi took Angel's hand in hers.

"What do you have?" Baker asked.

"Angel, you remember that surprise party we had for Collins' birthday, right?" Roger said. Angel nodded. "Well, after we searched everywhere except the university, Mimi remembered that Collins took you two through a parking lot when you had to make sure he got to the loft."

"The parking lot behind the building he teaches in," Angel stated. "He said he always walks through that parking lot because it's the fastest way for him to get off campus."

"Right. So, Mimi took us to that parking lot and we found skid marks on the concrete. We're pretty sure they're from a car speeding off."

"Can you take us to where you found them?" Sanders asked.

"Of course."

"Great. Let's move."

"There's more." Roger looked to Mark. "You want to take this part?"

"We decided to look around the parking lot after we found the skid marks to see if we could find anything else," Mark said, shifting his camera bag to his left shoulder. "While we were doing that, I saw something that looked like the lens of a camera hanging on the building. And, as my friends know, I can spot a camera from a mile away. I walked a little closer to the building just to make sure I was right and then we searched high and low for some sort of security office. When we found that, we caught a security guard that was leaving and told him what had happened to Collins. Then he gave us this." Mark reached into his camera bag and produced a video tape.

"We haven't watched it," Mimi added. "We brought it straight here."

"Okay then," Ed said, standing up. "Who's going where?"

"I could stay here and check out the security tape," Baker suggested. Mark handed her the tape.

"I want to see it," Angel said. Mimi looked at her and saw a serious expression on her face.

"I'm staying with Angel," she stated.

"I will, too," Joanne said.

"I'll go see about the skid marks," Sanders volunteered. He pointed at Mark and Roger. "You two can show me where they are." The roommates nodded and followed Sanders out of the station.

"Ed, are you going to watch this tape with us?" Baker asked.

"No, I think I'll go talk with Arthur Gibson again," Ed replied. "I have a feeling he's hiding something."

"Can I go with you?" Maureen asked. "I really don't trust that guy. Plus, I can be your backup."

"You?"

"Hey, I'm tougher than I look." Without warning, Maureen punched Ed in the arm as hard as she could. He let out a small cry of pain before bringing his hand to his arm.

"Maureen!" Joanne exclaimed. "Didn't we have a talk about punching cops?"

"It's fine," Ed assured her, rubbing his arm. He looked to Maureen. "Maybe I can use you for backup. That actually hurt." Maureen smiled and skipped out of the station behind Ed.

"There's a t.v. in the lieutenant's office," Baker stated. The three bohemian girls followed her to the office. There, she inserted the tape into the VCR, opened a drawer on the lieutenant's desk, took the remote out of it, and turned the television on. The image of hundreds of college students walking back and forth appeared on the screen.

"This is during the day," Joanne commented. "Collins disappeared sometime in the evening." Baker nodded and fast-forwarded the tape. There was a fifteen minute period of fast-forwarding where the parking lot seemed deserted. A few minutes after that, a familiar figure sped to the bottom of the screen.

"That's Collins!" Angel exclaimed. "I know it is!" Baker rewound the tape a bit before pressing play. The four of them watched in silence as Collins walked through the parking lot. He looked over his shoulder for a moment, but continued to walk.

"I wonder what he saw," Baker said. Collins suddenly stopped walking and was halfway turned around when a car hit him. He flew out of the view of the camera as the car stopped right in the middle of the screen. All four girls gasped loudly.

"Oh my God!" Mimi exclaimed. The door on the driver's side of the car opened and a figure stepped out carrying a blunt object. The figure on the screen walked out of the frame in the direction Collins went after being hit by the car.

"Where did that person go?" Angel asked, not daring to take her eyes off of the screen. "What are they doing to Collins?" The figure suddenly rushed back to the car, got in, and sped off. Another figure ran across the screen, also in the direction of Collins, and out of sight.

"Well, who was that?" Mimi asked. Baker rewound the tape a little and pushed play. The second figure ran across the screen again.

"No idea, but whoever it was is a witness," Baker replied. She thought for a moment before rewinding the tape and pausing it when the car was on the screen. She walked closer to the television and squinted. "QWE9196."

"What?" Angel said.

"That's the license plate number." Baker took her mobile phone from her pocket. The three bohemians stared at her as she quickly dialed a number and put the phone to her ear. "Hey, it's Baker. I need you to run a plate for me. The number is QWE9196." It was quiet for a short while. Baker's eyes suddenly widened. "Are you sure? Okay . . . thanks." She hung up the phone and slammed her fist on the lieutenant's desk. "Son-of-a-bitch!"

"What happened?" Joanne asked as Baker began dialing another number. The detective put the phone to her ear.

"That car is registered to Arthur Gibson," she answered.

"Somebody was in a hurry," Sanders commented as he bent down to look at the concrete of the parking lot. Four, dark skid marks, all varying in size, were about twenty feet away from the door Collins had come out of. Roger was standing beside the detective. Mark was walking around, searching the grassy areas surrounding the parking lot for anything else they could have missed.

"There are more behind us on the other side of the lot," Roger told Sanders. "They look similar to these ones." Sanders stood upright and looked to the door.

"All right then," he said. "My best guess at what happened here is somebody waited for your friend to come out of the building, pulled off, stopped right here, forced him into their car, and then took off again."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"And why not?"

"Collins is a big guy. He can protect himself. He may get hurt in the process, but there's no way someone could just take him. Even if they had a gun he'd still manage to get away."

"You're saying he wouldn't go down without a fight?"

"Not as long as he's able bodied. There's only been one time Collins couldn't defend himself and that's only because he was outnumbered."

"So, whoever took him had to have hurt him somehow. And since you said he'll fight his way out of anything, that person had to have caught him by surprise."

"That makes more sense."

"Wait a minute. Where the hell was security when this was happening?"

"The security office is way on the other side of campus."

"Which means this kidnapping had to have happened in under three minutes or so."

"Roger!" Mark called, running toward the rocker and the detective. He was clutching something in one hand and steading his camera bag with the other. When he got to Roger and Sanders, he was panting slightly.

"What is it, Mark?" Roger asked. The filmmaker held up the black object he was holding. Roger took it and gasped.

"What is it?" Sanders asked.

"It's Collins' beanie," Mark answered.

"Why wasn't it somewhere over here?"

"The storm last night," Roger stated. "It must have been picked up by the wind." Sanders' mobile phone suddenly rang. He answered it while the bohemian boys stared sadly at their friend's head garment.

"Sanders," the detective said into his phone. He listened for a moment. "You're kidding! That lying bastard . . . yeah. I'll call him." Sanders hung up his phone angrily.

"What's going on?" Mark asked.

"We talked with Connor Bennett's adoptive father earlier and it turns out the car that most likely left these skid marks is his." Mark and Roger's mouths dropped open as Sanders stood there, seething.

Ed knocked on the door of Arthur Gibson's home as Maureen peeked in the windows. The house seemed dark.

"Will you get over here?" Ed asked her.

"What if he's trying to hide or something?" Maureen replied.

"Get over here. Now."

"Why? So I can knock on the door with you? Do you even realize that's getting you nowhere?" Ed rolled his eyes and knocked on the door harder. "Didn't you hear what I just said?"

"Mr. Gibson," Ed called through the door, ignoring Maureen. His knocking soon turned into pounding. "NYPD, open up." There was no answer. Ed sighed heavily and looked to Maureen, who was smirking.

"Maybe you should try ringing the doorbell," she teased. Ed glared at her.

"I do not have time for this shit." The detective took a step back and kicked the door in. Maureen's eyes widened and Ed looked back at her as he stepped inside the house. "Are you coming or are you just going to stand there?"

"That was pretty kick-ass," Maureen commented as she followed Ed into the house. A staircase and a hallway were the first things the diva and the detective saw upon entering the house. Arthur suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs. He rushed down them and began trying to push the two unwanted visitors out.

"I thought we settled this," he said. "Get out of my house!" Ed noticed slight bruising on the side of Arthur's face.

"Your wife is here, isn't she?" he asked. Arthur shook his head and looked at the floor. "She was though, right?"

"Why do you ask?"

"You have a bruise on your face that wasn't there earlier." Arthur looked up at the detective. His expression was angry.

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Connor told us what your wife does to him . . . and you," Maureen informed Arthur. His expression softened and his eyes glazed over. "We know she's abusive. Where is she, Mr. Gibson?"

"I . . . don't know," Arthur answered. "Honestly, I don't."

"Do you know where Connor is?"

"I already told you I don't know where either of them are. Will you people please just leave me alone? I haven't done anything and I don't know anything. What do you want from me?"

"Connor's philosophy professor went missing last night," Ed said.

"And you think he has something to do with it?"

"We're just investigating from every angle, Mr. Gibson."

"How dare you? You have no right to accuse Connor of anything! You don't know him! You don't know what he's been through!"

"No one is-"

"Sure, he has a thing for his professor, but he's not hurting anyone!" Arthur interrupted. "You need to go after someone who's committed an actual crime! Maybe find the bastard who molested Connor for two weeks straight when he was twelve! That's a criminal, not Connor!"

"You need to calm down, Mr. Gibson," Maureen said.

"Don't tell me what I need to do! You have no idea what goes on in this house! I get that there's a missing person and Connor is close to him, but that doesn't mean he's involved! Even if he was, it wouldn't be his fault! He wouldn't be able to control himself! He probably wouldn't even know he did anything! He doesn't need anymore stress in his life!"

"Whoa, what do you mean he wouldn't know if he did anything?" Ed asked.

"Just get out!" Before Ed could respond, his mobile phone rang. He kept his attention on Arthur as he answered the call.

"Green," he said. "Yeah, I'm still here." Maureen watched Ed's mouth drop open. "Is that so? Sanders, you have made my entire day. See you soon." Ed hung up his phone and eyed Arthur suspiciously. "Mr. Gibson, is there anything you'd like to tell us?"

"No."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Positive."

"In that case, I'm going to need you to turn around."

"What for?"

"You're under arrest." Arthur started to back up. "Do yourself a favor and don't run."

"I . . . I haven't done anything wrong."

"Where is your car, Mr. Gibson?" Arthur looked from Ed to Maureen and back. He turned and started to run up the stairs. He got up three stairs before Ed grabbed the back of his shirt and managed to sling him to the ground.

"I haven't done anything!" Arthur shouted as Ed knelt beside him and flipped him on his stomach. He took a set of handcuffs out of his back pocket. Arthur began squirming.

"Here," Ed said to Maureen, holding the handcuffs out to her while trying to detain Arthur. "Cuff him." Maureen smiled and knelt on the other side of Arthur.

"Best. Day. Ever," she commented.

Collins sat on the bed in silence. He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there, but he knew it had to have been over two hours. After Connor had locked him in the room, he heard several things fall over, including the breaking of something made of glass. A few moments after that, Connor came into the room with a tray of food. No words were spoken between them and Collins refused to make eye contact with the boy. He never thought being around Connor would actually cause him to fear for his life.

The tray was on the bedside table, the food untouched. Collins didn't think he could trust Connor anymore. He hadn't heard anything after Connor had brought him lunch. It was completely silent. He couldn't even hear himself breathing. Standing himself up on his crutches, he got to the window and opened the curtains. The cottage was surrounded by woods. He tried opening the window with no luck.

Making his way to the bedroom door, he turned the knob in hopes that Connor had forgotten to lock it on his way out. Unfortunately for him, he hadn't. Staring at the keyhole, he realized he could use a small object to attempt to unlock the door. Of course, he would have to find one. He searched the medicine cabinet in the bathroom before moving on to the drawers of the bedside table. He found a bobby pin in one of them. Figuring it would have to do, he went back over to the door, carefully he inserted the bobby pin into the keyhole, and moved it around.

"Please, open," he whispered. After about two minutes, he heard a satisfying click. Slowly removing the bobby pin from the keyhole, he turned the knob and opened the door. If he could have, he would have jumped for joy.

He quietly made his way to the living room. A ceramic lamp had been smashed on the ground. The table had been flipped. The armchair was overturned. The chess pieces were still scattered about. Collins didn't take the time to look at any other damage. He reached the front door, opened it, and stepped out onto the small porch. After carefully getting down the steps and onto the ground, he decided to go forward.

He had been traveling for about an hour when he came to a large creek and he was forced to abandon his path. The temperature was dropping and it was getting dark. The pain in his head was starting to come back, but he knew he couldn't stop. He had to keep moving and nightfall wasn't going to stop him.

After another hour went by, daylight was scarce. Collins' head was throbbing and his muscles were aching, but he kept going. The bottom of one of his crutches got caught on the root of a tree and he fell forward. He lied there for a moment, face down in the dirt. Looking around, he noticed he could barely see in front of him. He pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing as he did, and felt around for his crutches. Once he found them, he put a hand behind him and felt the trunk of a tree. He leaned on it before looking to the left and right of him. The wind blew and he shivered. There was no way he could stay in the woods. He didn't know what was out there. A feeling of dismay came over him.

He had to go back.

Longest. Chapter. Ever. I expect long reviews or I won't update anymore . . . I'm kidding, of course.

Review please.