Author's Note: Hey guys! Thank you for the reviews and the follows', you're all such lovely people, and you made me so happy! This chapter continues straight on from the last and it's really short, I know, I'm sorry. Updates are every Wednesday and remember that although I am taking a break from writing my other Karla and Saul stories, this will feature them quite heavily. The back-story of my characters is completely fictional, I made it up to suit the story and I in no way own these characters or the Savant idea- all rights go to Joss Stirling. This is about the boys finding their soulfinders and if you have any questions, then feel free to jump up and down, waving your hands in the air. Thank you for reading and reviewing in advance, I hope you enjoy! Xxx

Chapter Five

The Benedict Home, Wrickenridge

The Benedict home was in a state of shocked silence after Karla's revelation. Eventually Victor left, slamming the door behind him, already dialling colleagues Karla didn't want to be involved in their situation. Zed had shrugged his jacket on, heading out to find Trace and Yves and Xav went back to bed. Will followed soon after. Uriel left for his flat, hugging his mother gently, as if the slightest touch might break her, before he too slammed the door. Karla and Saul were alone.

Saul sank heavily onto the couch, sighing and rubbing his eyes with his hands. Karla shifted and fidgeted in front of the fire, not daring to say anything in case it made Saul angry. At the moment he didn't look angry, but then again, Karla thought, Saul was never one to show his emotions like she did. She still had trouble reading his face at times, whereas he described Karla as an open book.

She suddenly had a memory spring to mind of earlier that night, stood in his study doorway and screaming his name because she needed him. Karla needed Saul now as well. Needed him to tell her what to do because their daughter was missing and she wasn't coping. She had seen all those movies, watched every cop drama there was and nothing could have prepared her for this. All those cases, all those court sessions, it felt like a waste because she hadn't stopped it happening to her baby girl. Karla couldn't help the tear trickling down her cheek.

"Don't start crying again Karla," Saul said quietly, looking up at Karla with his brown eyes and she hastily wiped the tear away. Saul didn't sound angry, but she had been married to him long enough that she knew when there was an argument brewing. Normally she'd hide upstairs or suddenly decide to clean the kitchen which meant her boys would take the confrontation outside. She hated confrontation. It scared her, especially with guns around the house. Ever since the café in Mexico Karla refused to become involved in conflict, often hiding behind Saul until it was over.

"Saul-"

"No, baby, just go bed. I'll figure this out." he was clearly exhausted and Karla stepped closer.

"Saul-"

"Baby just do as you're told okay? Go to bed, let me figure this out."

It was as if she had been stung by a nettle.

"You're mad at me?" Saul looked her in the eye and she swallowed. "Don't lie to me Saul, please."

"Oh sweetie," Saul stood crossed the room and very gently held her waist. "My darling, you mean the world to me, okay? You know that; you know I would do anything for you; I would protect you to the death. You know I would take that bullet for you." Saul reached down and took both her hands, gently clasping them to his chest. "But to hear you sacrificed justice for your friends for my safety that means a lot. And I am never mad at you, frustrated at times, yes, but never angry." Karla burst into tears and he kissed her knuckles. "Just promise me one thing darling."

"Anything, anything," Karla was like an over eager puppy, desperate to do anything to please her husband.

"Don't ever sacrifice yourself to save me again." Saul said firmly. Karla smiled and linked her arms around his neck, crossing her fingers as she whispered the words he wanted to hear. "I promise."

A Basement, Location: Somewhere in Denver

"Daddy?" she whispered. She didn't know how long it had been, hours maybe or even days. It felt like years. She didn't know. Lights flickered above her, as she curled in a ball on the floor around a ragged blanket and already filthy, sobbing some minutes, screaming the next. It was quiet now though. She whimpered, wanting her Daddy more than anything. Ridley smirked at the young girl's tears and stalked over to Anya, kicking her in the back and laughing as Anya cried out.

"Now Baby Benedict, I'll ask again. What's your talent?"

Anya said nothing despite knowing she couldn't last for much longer. "Daddy?" she whispered. "Daddy?" she stretched out, and felt something cold, something hard. Ridley's boot; another kick and she screamed.

"Shut up you little brat!" Ridley yelled and at once the screaming stopped. "What is your fucking talent?"

"I want my daddy!" Anya screamed back. Ridley dragged her up by her jumper and slapped her across the cheek.

"You'll get your fucking daddy as soon as I've ripped him from his soulfinder! Now tell me your fucking talent."

"No, I want to go home, I want my mommy and my daddy and I want you to go-" Anya never finished; Ridley slammed her into the wall and Anya slumped. "Go to hell!" Anya screamed, remembering one of the insults her brother's used quite often.

"I'm already there sweetheart." Ridley kicked her stomach and Anya vomited. Ridley sniffed and marched out of the basement, yelling for Drake to watch the girl. Anya stood and ran towards the door to the basement, slamming her hands on the door until her fingers bled and her voice was hoarse; screaming "I want my daddy!" over and over.

Streets of Denver

By the time it was two in the morning, Trace was making his way back to his flat. The night had left him drained, and his tiredness was added to by the stress of his missing sister. It was colder now and- Trace looked up- snowing. Unbelievable; first snowfall of the year and his baby sister wasn't here to see it. He sighed as his heart panged. He missed her already and planned to call Victor as soon as he was done sleeping. He would do anything to get her back; his parents were probably out of their mind with worry for her. Trace yawned and rubbed his eyes. His car was only a little further down the road, then back to his apartment and to bed.

A shriek made him jump; then a longer shriek and a yell of "get off of me!" It wasn't his quadrant, but Trace wasn't one to stand aside and wait for others. He ran down an alleyway and came face to face with Saskia and behind her on the floor a long legged woman with dark curls. Trace swore.

"What the hell's going on Saskia?" he asked, really not in the mood. She pouted and crossed her arms in the same way Anya did when she was throwing a strop.

"The bitch was getting it on with my man!" Saskia grumbled and Trace rolled his eyes. Why was it, that whenever Saskia had problems, they all revolved around men?

"Okay, you go home, be in at the station tomorrow." Trace waved Saskia away, who snorted and clicked away in her stilettos. "Are you okay ma'am? Did she hurt you badly?"

The woman accepted his hand with a smile and was on her feet in seconds. "No, no, just a couple of bruises I guess."

"Trace Benedict," Trace said mentally and verbally. Shock crossed the woman's face before she smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

Ridley Waters honey, and I guess I'm your soulfinder.