Disclaimer: Neither Now You See Me, its characters, or the song belong to me.

Where Hope Lies

If you get sleep, or if you get none.
(The cock's gonna call in the morning, baby.)
Check the cupboard for your daddy's gun.
(Red sun rises like an early warning.)
The Lord's gonna come for your first born son.
(His hair's on fire and his heart is burning.)
Go to the river where the water runs.
(Wash him deep where the tides are turning.)
And if you fall…
~Bottom of the River by Delta Rae

"I went on a trip and on that trip I took an atlas." Merritt laughed. "See what I did there?"

"Yes, Merritt, I did." Daniel growled, glaring across the room at the mentalist. "I saw it the first fifty times you said it. You're oh so funny."

"Well if you would play instead of whining 'this is stupid' every time you forget an item then I wouldn't have to start over so much." Merritt reminded doing a rather high-pitched imitation of Daniel.

"Well it is stupid." Daniel snapped.

After spending only-God-knows how long trapped in the same empty room with a silent-and-desperate-to-escape woman and the world's oldest five year old, anyone could be excused for going stir crazy. None of them were taking their imprisonment well. Being an escape artist, Henley couldn't escape that Bradley had built an escape proof room and as such had combed over every inch of the room. Twice. If Daniel was counting correctly, she would be finishing up her third check soon and be beginning number four. To people who didn't know him, Merritt appeared to be entirely content with simply sitting around and playing children's games until they were either rescued or killed. To those who did know him, including Daniel and Henley, it was an easily seen through act that served to hide his frustration and worry. Understanding that didn't mean it ceased being annoying, however. Especially after the twelfth round of "I went on a trip."

It was all too much for Daniel. He was used to be—needed to be—in control, or at the very least be able to manipulate the situation in the direction he desired. Being forced to simply sit in the same spot hour after hour with nothing to look forward to except meal time did not sit well with him. At least the two meals a day—or what Daniel believed to be two meals per day, though he couldn't even be positive on that.—offered some divergence from the mind-numbing boredom. The first time the door had opened the three captives had been hopeful that it was a rescue, but the two men with guns that had ushered them to the back corner had said otherwise. Three paper plates and cups with no silverware had been set to the side by a third man before the three quickly left, locking the door behind them. The meal was nothing to be desired—mystery meat, potatoes with what served as gravy, and water—but it offered a variety in the otherwise monotonous day. After they had all eaten, the door would open, the plates would be taken away and then it was back to the same old routine.

It was safe to say that, unless help came quickly—and by quickly he meant within the next five minutes—Daniel was going to be driven well and truly insane.

"Fine." Merritt pouted, though he really didn't care if Danny played along or not. He just didn't like the unnerving silence that otherwise permeated the room. "If you won't play then I'll just have to go back to singing."

"No!" Daniel and Henley both exclaimed, but it was too late as Merritt had cleared his throat and begun a performance worthy of a sick and dying cat.

"Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall!"

"Kill me now." Daniel groaned, burying his head in his hands as Henley nodded in agreement and went back to running her hands over the wall.

"All in good time, Mr. Atlas." Thaddeus Bradley's voice echoed in the room and the three magicians jumped to their feet, scanning the room as if expecting the man to appear out of thin air. "No reason to be hasty, now is there?"

"What do you want, Bradley?" Daniel asked, stepping forward to look into the camera they had found earlier at the corner of the door.

"I would have thought you would have already figured that out." Bradley replied vaguely.

"Revenge." Merritt said simply, wishing that he could see the man so he could get a proper read on him.

"Very good, Mr. McKinney. After all, it was revenge that brought you to the point of robbing banks and having me arrested."

"Then why not just turn us over to the authorities?" Henley asked. "If revenge is what you're after then doing to us what we did to you sounds like a good method."

"There will be plenty of time for that later." Bradley assured. "After all, we're still missing two."

So Dylan and Jack had escaped. The Horsemen kept their eyes locked on the camera, refusing to give anything away. But inside they were each rejoicing that their friends were still safe. Their joy fell as Bradley continued talking.

"It shouldn't be long now. Mr. Shrike and Mr. Wilder are making good time. I would estimate their arrival to be sometime tomorrow evening."

"And what makes you think that anyone would even want to rescue us?" Daniel asked carefully.

"You had best be hoping they come." The amusement in Bradley's voice was replaced by anger. "If not, I don't believe you will like what comes after. If Mr. Shrike listens to reason, I promise your deaths will be quick. If he does not…"

The three Horsemen looked at each other, none sure what to say. What little hope they had had of getting out of this alive faded with Bradley's voice. They had already known they were being used as bait to lure Dylan and Jack, but the hope had remained that they would simply be handed over to the FBI or that their friends would be able to rescue them or that they would be able to escape. But Bradley had made it very clear what was to happen.

Lost to their own thoughts, the Horsemen returned to their respective sections of the room. Daniel sank to the floor and rested his head against the wall his eyes closed. Henley simply turned back to the door and continued to check the hinges, though her hands moved slower and with less confidence. Merritt stood for a moment before lowering himself to the floor. He looked between his two friends and plainly read the hopelessness that rose from the two. He felt it himself, but he kept his feelings behind a mask. As the silence settled, he did the only think he could think to do.

"I went on a trip and on that trip I took an atlas."