A/N: This story is set in the future when Noah is about five or six. Character death is included, at this time I cannot be certain how graphic it will be.

I'm going to try something new. I'm just testing this method out. I'm thinking that if I update my chapters not always as a whole, but instead in a series that's still in-progress, chapter content will be improved. I cannot promise you that speed will improve dramatically, but I will tell you that doing this will enable me to give y'all a taste of the chapter while it's being written. I'm hoping that you guys will be reading my content without periods of inactivity. i.e. months on end.

Language: I don't like to cuss, I happen to rarely cuss at all. But because I know that many people are capable of cussing like sailors, my characters can't all be immune to doing so too. So yes, there will be cussing. I'm sorry if this offends anyone.

A/N: I saw your comments, and I had not written much of the chapter by then. I was unhappy with the word count at that point. So sorry, if y'all thought it was a glitch or whatever. Anyway, like I do with all my stories, insight, reviews, story ideas are openly excepted. PM me for story ideas, I'll see them there. Thanks and happy reading.

November 18, 2014: Without the bolded words, there are currently 794 words in this chapter; I plan to be adding more content at a later time.

A/N: Update on chapter 1- Nov. 22, 2014

Chapter 1

"Go, now. I want all your socks picked up and put in the laundry basket. We need to get a load of wash done today."

"But Mommy!" Noah whines still clinging to his crayons.

"No whining. Now come on, dinner's going to be finished in ten minutes."

"Okay." Sadly he reloads his crayon box and shoves his coloring book in the drawer. Dragging his feet he slumps up the stairs with his teddy in hand.

"Ring!"

I stir the pot full of his favorite meal, mac and cheese. The phone blares for the third time, and then goes to voicemail.

"Hello," my voice sounds over on the intercom.

"Hello," my son's three year old voice shouts into the speaker.

"You've reached the Bensons," my voice returns. "Please leave a message with your name and phone number, and we'll call you back."

"We'll call 'ya back!" Noah parrots.

Our laughter fills the message. I smile, I love that message.

The message ends with a beep.

"Pick up the phone Detective Benson," a faux voice orders.

I almost drop the boiling pot. My eyes widen, and I whip my head toward the cell.

"Pick up the damn thing now!"

I hesitate, not even moving another muscle.

"Stop stalling. I have a gun aimed at your little boy's skull, you have five seconds to pick up the phone. Or you can be sure that my finger will push the trigger." My stomach drops two floors.

It takes me a moment to register their unnerving threat. But then they begin counting. I reach the phone in the nick of time.

"That got your attention, didn't it?" The voice boasts smugly.

"Who the hell are you?" I growl lowly.

"Get your brat down stairs now. Remember, if you so much as hint that something's off, I'll kill him. Don't think I'm afraid of killing a snot nosed kid."

I pause, collecting my nerves. "N-Noah," my voice hitches to quiet for anyone to hear. I try once more, this time with more control. "Noah, honey, come down now. Uh, diner's ready!" I call.

I hear the patter of his feet as they race down the hall and the clatter as they descend the stairs.

"Yea!" He shouts joyfully as he slides into his chair.

I flash on a convincing grin, playing the happy mother role as I scoop the macaroni onto a Zoopals plate. "Here you go, sweetheart."

"Ring!" My cell goes off again. I didn't realize the other person had hung up in the first place. I check the number: it reads "unknown". It's them. I pick up this time without hesitation as not to alert Noah.

"Benson," I greet, even though that introduction is reserved for my squad.

"I'm not surprised you answered this time. And my apologies, I forgot you're no longer just a detective, isn't that correct?" The voice doesn't allow me time to speak a word before continuing. "That's right, you're a sergeant."

"What do you want from me?" I interject while moving to the opposite end of the room.

"Because your boy isn't who I'm after I'll let him eat his meal-consider it a gift." I furrow my brows. "But when he's finished, you and he are getting into the car. I will call you once you're inside. I'm watching you, don't do anything you'll regret." With that the phone call ends abruptly.

"Mommy," Noah whispers sadly. His concern awakens me from my daze.

"Yes, Darling?" I place the cell on the counter and come to rest beside him.

"Do you hafta go now?" His lip pouts.

"Awe, no sweetheart. Uh, Uncle Nick was uh just telling me that they are talking to a man. Everything's alright. You have nothing to worry," I force a reassuring smile.

"Okay, I don't want'cha to leave yet," Noah hugs my neck. I rub tiny circles in his back as he rests his head on my shoulder.

Noah eats the rest of his dinner, it's time to leave.

"Noah, throw away your plate, and grab your coat and shoes."

"How come? Where are we going?" He hops off the chair, plate and fork in hand.

"It's a surprise, okay." I wink. "Now, go on." I nudge him with a pat on his back.

Noah wiggles his arms into the sleeves of his green plaid hoodie. He velcros his Skechers that flash when he runs to claim his seat at the table.

Then Noah jumps to his feet again. "Okay, Mommy, let's go, let's go, let's go!" He tugs my hand excitedly.

"Alright, slow down," I chuckle as I finish zipping my coat. I snatch the cell from the counter, set it to vibrate, and shove it into my pocket that's deep enough to conceal my gun. With my car keys in hand, we walk hand in hand out the door.

"Buckle your seatbelt," I say once we arrive in the cold car.

"I'm ready! Let's go!" Noah squeals. He begins asking what the surprise might be when I feel the phone hum on my thigh.

"Honey, I need to answer this person, okay." I attach the earbuds to the cell's jack port at the end of the driveway. Just before I pull out the rest of my car, I fix a bud into my ear.

"Benson," I say, empowering me slightly.

"Drive onto the street and make a left," the voice instructs clearly.

Following their navigation, we end at a house. It appears to be abandoned, and the street of which it's on, is a ghost town. Perfect place to keep someone hostage, the cynical part of my brain announces. I suppress the urge to listen to the voice in my head screaming for me to turn the hell around, and get out of dodge. But that's why they forced me to bring Noah.

"Both of you, I want out of the car, now," the person strictly orders.

"Where are we," I whisper so Noah won't hear.

"Get out of the damn car now!" They yell making me jerk the speaker away from my eardrums.

This time I obey without asking for anything in return.

Stand on the top steps of the porch, and knock twice when you're there."

Wearily, I lead Noah to the house. For once, he's not pestering me with questions.

"Boom!"

We fly into the door that crashes down into the house. I scramble to my feet, helping Noah into the house where fire from the explosion has not touched. I pick him up, and start running deeper into the house when a piece of debris dents the ground just in front of Noah's shoes. I can see the flames dancing in my peripheral view as I frantically search for another exit.

"Ahh!" A foreign sound erupts. I don't notice it's mine until Noah screams. My head is spinning as I clutch onto consciousness.

Noah's yells fade in and out, and I no longer can fight to stay awake.

A/N: November 22, 2014: Without the bolded words, there are 1,212 words in this chapter. It's finally finished. The chapter I mean. Story ideas anyone?