This is a shift day [see above]. There was another upload this morning: Brotherhood.

"A Dish Best Served Cold"

12. Twelfth

It was getting harder to remember what time it was. They had watches, they could see what they said, but it was only a dial, a screen... They had no such concept of time, only that it had been so very long. They all sat huddled together, pairs and trios... Brittany had apparently taken all the stress her mind could handle in a day and was power napping like a champ on Santana's shoulder. This was fine by her, and she kept a protective clasp on the blonde's hands the whole time, never losing Matheson from sight. She wasn't the only one at that.

As much as they were keeping from acting on it, many of them had that impulse in their hearts to try and take the man down. More often than not, there was someone there who could remind them that they best keep quiet, by a look or just by displaying the effects of the situation. Rachel had Finn minded by the fact alone that she was scared. He could see her try to be brave, but once she had crumbled under the pressure of bad thoughts, she could not pick herself up again in a heartbeat. So long as they were stuck here, he didn't see how she would find that push, and he wanted nothing more than to get her there. All that stood in the way was Matheson, but even then... She needed him there to see her through her fear, and he wasn't abandoning her.

Lauren had gone in there, looking past herself and thinking of the people who had been, whether she'd still say it or not, her friends for the better part of the year. Unlike the others though there wasn't anyone there who would really be... Connected to their act, not like Brittany, Rachel, and Quinn had with the others. Still in accepting to go in, she had facilitated Blaine's release, and for that she had earned Kurt's gratitude, and his companionship. He sat at her side, not so much holding her hand but just basically being there with her. She could see how much his current emotional load revolved around the polar opposites of having Blaine's security assured, and the precariousness of his own situation. So eventually she had taken his hand; he held hers gladly.

Then there was Puck. Before long, his intentions to play it cool would get side swiped by the fury and the need to put an end to the problem. The man only served to terrorize his friends, and he didn't like that. He already knew, from their first encounter with him in New York, that he was capable not only of murder but of a twisted way to handle the body after to pass a message. He knew he was calculating, and that he had no qualms about putting his act's on the back of an innocent young girl the way he had done to Brittany, trying to frame her and all. But then if he ever showed whatever sign of wanting to act against him, there would be Quinn at his side, reminding him that he couldn't, or at least shouldn't...

"Shouldn't he have made like demands or something by now?" he asked, looking to Quinn sitting face to face with him.

"Keep your voice down," she whispered and he let out a breath, putting his hands to her arms, just above wrist level.

"Sorry, sorry... But it's a valid question."

"He's gotten calls the whole time," Tina was the one to answer, her and Mike sitting just above.

"Has he answered any of them?" Puck asked.

"None, until Santana on Brittany's phone," Mike replied.

"So my point exactly. He should have made demands by now. How else does he expect to get out of here?"

"Unless he doesn't," Quinn was the one to say it, and she liked it about as much as the others did.

The office phone chose this time to ring, and everyone paused. "Why don't you answer that?" Puck ended up asking aloud, to the dismay of the others.

"How about you let me make the decisions around here," Matheson glared at him. At this point, Brittany had woken from her nap to find the room locked in conversation. She turned her eyes up to Santana before pulling up into a seated position.

"Up to you, but if you keep this up, pretty soon they'll make the decisions for you, if you know what I mean," he motioned a gun. The silence hung so heavy for a moment it strained at their necks to keep their heads up. But then Matheson wordlessly moved to the phone and picked it up.

"What?" he spoke, and the thirteen of them did their best to catch his end of the conversation. At first it was harder, but then hi voice got louder. "I'll tell you what I want. A bus, no... A van, unmarked... Big enough for at least fourteen."

And he hung up. Thirteen pairs of eyes were on him. Thirteen voices could not speak.

X

Outside, Beckett, Castle, Ryan, and Esposito had heard it all. When the call ended, it took them a moment to say something. Now that they had been able to patch through to the feed from the cheerleading coach's hidden cameras, they had been able to see everything as it happened. They saw the kids, all packed in together. They saw Matheson, looking much too confident for their liking...

"Well he's communicating, that's good news," Castle commented.

"Is it?" Beckett looked to him. "It took him this long, and this is what he finally asks for..." She paused, then turned to the officer who had made the call. "Get him back, tell him he'll get his van but he will need to wait until we can find a suitable one."

"You're not actually going to hand them the kids, are you?" Ryan asked a d she frowned.

"Need him to think we are, for now, to buy us time."

"If we let him leave here with them he could kill kill them," Castle wasn't sure he could back this up yet.

"Like he could do that. In the choir room right now. We're not going to let it get that far," she reminded them. "Either way, this is going to be over soon, let's make sure it ends well."

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)