Rated R for violence and some sexual situations, nothing graphic, there are also some religious references in later chapters. I am in no way trying to push my beliefs on to anyone else, the references in my story are just part of the story. If you don't like, don't read.

It has been a very long time since I had the privilege to watch this wonderful show, so I may have forgotten some things, in that case consider this AU.

This is my first fic. on so please be kind with criticisms. I welcome constructive criticism and everyone is entitled to his or her own opinion, if you don't like my story, that’s okay but please, there is no reason to be mean to get your point across. Thanks

Matt groaned as he surfaced to consciousness, only to wish that he hadn't. O God, did he hurt! Every part of his body hurt. He felt as if every nerve was on fire.

He took a deep breath only to feel that same fire burning deep in his chest. "No that was not a good thing to do," he told himself, "don't do that again." He admonished. He lay still trying to get his bearings, trying to remember why he was here, and just where here might be. The more he tried to remember the more his head throbbed, the pressure building as the minutes passed. He couldn’t think, and the whole world was spinning dizzily making him nauseous.

His next groan brought about a low chuckle somewhere to his left. He tensed. He knew that evil chuckle, and then memory came crashing down around him. He tried to move, he had to get away, but nothing seemed to work. He could feel his extremities, but he couldn’t make them move. He didn't know if he could open his eyes or not, right now he really didn't want to. All he seemed to be able to do was breath, and that was agony in itself. He tried to calm down, but he could still feel the pulse racing in his ears.

Once again he heard that low demented chuckle. "Well, well, awake at last are we my pet? I hoped you would awaken before I left." The voice became less jovial and Matt could feel feather light touches across his face, the fingers trailing down to his chest. "I do so hate to say goodbye, even for a short time." the hand lightly caressed a shoulder, "Oh, my dear Matthew, you always were my favorite. So beautiful…" The hand brushed down to his stomach and across his belly.

Matt felt the mind numbing terror that had become a part of him come to life once more. "NOOOO!" He silently begged, but then again he couldn't get his mouth to work properly, all he could accomplish was another groan.

The voice laughed lightly, "Yes, my pet," The voice was quiet for a moment, the fingers still moving slowly across Matt's body. "You really are quite beautiful, you know." Matt felt those fingers caress his face again, before the voice continued, "You are still my favorite, even now…yes even after all this time." There was another sigh, and Matt felt the fingers move to his hair.

There was only silence for a while, that hand still stroking his hair, then the small chuckle again, "You know my pet, as loath as I am to leave you, the anticipation will only make my homecoming sweeter." Matt felt lips soft but suffocating press against his own, and then a tongue slowly and leisurely begin to trace the outline of his bottom lip. "Oh, you are sweet to the taste, and no one else can make my blood run so hot."

Matt felt a ragged breath puff against his jaw as the mouth slipped down to his throat where it began lick, suck, nip, and bite marking him, branding him. The mouth and the hands moved to other previously claimed territories and soon everything, even time seemed to cease. There was nothing left, even the terror was gone, there was only pain, and layer upon layer of shame. As hard as he might try to control his body's reactions, in the end it would only betray him by responding almost wantonly to the vile caresses of the hands and mouth of his captor.

He had given up on a physical escape, it just wasn’t possible. He had almost given up on survival, until he found that he could escape deep within his mind. He found that the further he went the less he could hear his tormentor’s laughter, the less he could feel what was done to him. Before he had been afraid to go too far. What if he couldn’t come back? Now though, he had retreated so deep, he couldn’t feel anything. This really wasn’t so bad. Here he couldn't feel those hands as they ravaged his body. He knew what they were doing to him, but here if felt like he really wasn't a part of it. Here he was safe from them, unless they killed him, but he figured that it really didn't matter, there wasn't that much left of him by now. Nothing worth anything anyway.

He would miss Cathy though.

Cathy…Just the thought of her made his heart ache. She could never love him now, so he went a little deeper, and even love disappeared.

()()()

George sat at his desk drumming his fingers in an absentminded rhythm, not realizing that he was even doing so. He had done everything he had known to do, but every lead had turned up false. No one anywhere had seen a sign of Matt since he had left the station heading for home five and a half weeks ago.

George wearily buried his face in his hands. "Matthew, my friend where are you?!" He heaved a sigh, tinged with exhaustion, and raised his head. He stood stiffly and walked over to the window, trying to work some of the kinks out of his muscles.

More than a month had passed and still no word.

He leaned his forehead against the window as he recalled how Cathy had called him at home looking for Matt. That call had been the beginning of the worst five weeks of his life.

Matt's car had been found sitting where he had left it that morning, but no one had seen him and there was no trace of him anywhere. Nothing to show that he had even been there.

Still after almost six weeks of constant searching along with every other cop in LA, George had nothing. The only thing he did know, was that Matt had never made it to the parking garage. "How in the Hell can one cop just disappear off the face of the earth while surrounded by a station full of policemen?!" he had shouted to no one in particular.

The detective felt ready to scream in frustration. Surely someone somewhere had seen what had happened to his partner.

George knew that Matt’s chances of being found alive dwindled with each passing day and the knot of fear in his stomach that was now a constant presence, had seemed to grow with each day Matt was missing.

Not able to stand there doing nothing, he grabbed his keys and left for the garage again, he had looked everywhere he had known to look, but he would look again and again until he found something.

()()()

The next time Matt surfaced he woke remembering next to nothing, it was like waking from a nightmare, the further into consciousness he came the less he could remember. For the first time since he had been captured he felt his mind clearing somewhat. The days before were only hazy recollections of pain and fear.

He found that he could move his head, though the act sent spears of pain into his brain. He opened his eyes and found himself to be alone.

When he tried to move again he found that he was bound at the wrists and ankles, lying on his back naked and spread eagle. On further inspection he did find that he was on a rather soft bed, at least he wasn't staked to the floor, or chained to a wall.

He looked around and noticed that he was in an opulent bedroom suite. There were silk sheets on the bed and rich velvet drapes on the windows that spanned almost three quarters of that wall. The wall facing the foot of the bed held an ornate fireplace flanked by two very expensive looking wingback chairs.

He knew that he had get out of here somehow, the longer he waited the fewer his chances of getting away would be.

He wriggled his wrist and although he was unable to get loose, he did find out that his wrists were connected by a single cord wound around and behind the spokes of the big brass head rail. He was able to get his hand up to one of the spokes and feeling with his fingers he found a tiny bolt used to repair the old bed.

Stretching as best he could, he was able to get the inside of his wrist up against the bolt and began to rub the cord back and forth. It was tiring work and it took him over an hour but finally he felt it give and his hand fell free. He was surprised by the shock of pain that coursed through his shoulders and down his back when he tried to bring his arms down to his sides. He could see by the raw festered wrists that he must have fought hard against his captor, and a hazy memory tried to come to the front, but was quickly pushed back. Now was not the time.

He lay panting for some minutes before he was able to try sitting up. It took him several tries but finally there he was, in an upright position. The room was spinning wildly and he had to shut his eyes to calm the nausea he could feel rising up from his stomach.

"Damn! at this rate it's gonna take me all day to get out of here!" he fumed. Feeling a bit more steady, he began to pick at he knots of the cord binding his ankles to the foot rail of the bed. He noticed that his ankles too had been rubbed raw, leaving them sore and infected.

He had no idea how long he had been held in this position, but he knew it had been much too long. When he had finally freed his ankles and tried to bring his legs together, his joints screamed in protest. Again he felt the bile rise in the back of his throat.

He made his way to the edge of the bed and let his feet touch the floor. He sat there for a few moments not yet ready to try standing. From this vantage he began to scan the room hoping for any sign of his clothing. He was determined to get out of here while he could, even if he had to wrap himself in a bedsheet.

()()()

George wouldn't give voice to the fear that nagged at him. Neither would he admit that there might be a possibility that Matt was already dead. He wouldn't allow the thought to pass through his mind, or any one else's for that matter.

He felt different without Matt, he felt ungrounded, alone, and though he would never admit this either, he was afraid. He hadn’t realized just how much he and Matt had grown together. They could almost read each other’s minds.

George smiled at the memory of his first days with his new partner. The differences were too many to count. Sikes had immediately disliked George, but when Emily had been threatened at her school, it was Matt who came to her rescue. He had shamed the mob until only a few die hard fanatics were still shouting. He had then stooped down till he was at eye level with Emily. He had smiled and winked at her, forever winning her heart, along with Susan’s and yes, his own as well.

George had seen his people die in mines, on ships, on harsh worlds that were a hell compared to the slave ships. He had held friends in his arms as they slipped into the next life, and in his own way he had fought for freedom only to see more of his people die in slavery. All that had ended when the ship crashed on this little blue world.

For the first time in generations his people had a chance to live with hope, because of people like Matthew Sikes, and now it looked as though he might be gone from George’s life. "No!" George shouted into the emptiness of his car. "I will not give up! He is alive, I can feel it.! I would know if you were gone, Matt. I don’t know how, but I know you’re still here somewhere, I just have to find you. I won’t give up! Damn it!" he shouted to no one in particular. He looked down and noticed his hands clinching the stirring wheel. He willed himself to relax and in a softer tone he promised his absent friend, "We will find you Matthew, I won’t abandon you to whatever fate may claim for you, you are coming home." He only hoped he could believe it hard enough.

()()()

Matt had found some clothing, not his own but at least he was covered, all he had to do was to get out and then get home. He stopped for a moment in confusion. Just where was home? He mentally shook himself and decided that getting out was more important right now, he would figure everything else out afterward.

When he had been able to walk without the room spinning, he had made his way to the large windows. Looking out on the city from a dizzying height he realized he was in a penthouse apartment, and apartment that seemed to be empty for the time being. He didn’t know why his captor hadn’t left him guarded, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He made his way from the windows to the door of the bedroom, and quietly opened the door very slowly just in case there might be someone on the other side after all. He couldn’t see anyone, so far so good.

He slowly made his way down a dark hallway to a huge living room with a vaulted ceiling, and one whole wall nothing but large picture windows. He had no idea who had been holding him here but the guy had to be filthy rich to afford a place like this.

He quickly crouched down behind a couch when he heard sounds coming from what he guessed to be the kitchen. The sounds became familiar, someone was humming sometimes giving voice to the words and then lapsing back into only humming the tune.

Matt figured that this was probably only a cook or a cleaning lady. He quietly stood to his feet and made his way to what he hoped was the door to the outside hall. What he found was an alcove with an elevator on the opposite wall. He took a deep breath and pushed the down button waiting for the machine to make it’s way up to him and praying that it would be empty.

The doors smoothly glided open to reveal an empty Oak paneled box. Matt hurried in and pushed the button for the lobby. When the doors opened he held his breath, but again there was no one in the vicinity of his elevator. He straitened himself and headed for the richly decorated glass doors leading to the outside. He noticed the funny looks from the door man, and knew he must look pretty suspicious with the ill fitting cloths and scruffy hair, but he didn’t give the guy a chance to stop him, he had to get home.

He was brought up short by the thought, ‘where was home?’ The more he thought the more his head hurt. Not only couldn’t he remember where home was, but he couldn’t remember who he was. Now he was getting scared. Where am I supposed to go? What do I do?

He walked for what seemed like hours, not knowing where he was going, he was just walking. He was getting tired and decided to try to find somewhere to rest. He found an alley and decided to hide in amongst the cardboard boxes and empty crates tossed over by the dumpster. He was exhausted and still very weak, and although he tried to fight it, it didn’t take long for sleep to claim him.

Several hours later he woke to find someone removing his shoes. He fought to keep them only to get the wind knocked out of him and then to find himself lying in a heap. The man taunted him and others came. Matt couldn’t think strait. Visions and memories swam in his mind terrifying him. the ones in the alley mocked him and laughed thinking him to be an addict or a drunkard. One of them began to hit him and as is the way with a mob even a small mob, they became of one mind. They beat him and kicked him until he no longer moved. He looked dead and fearing that they had gone too far, they had run away still carrying his shoes. He curled in onto himself rolling into a ball of misery, and from somewhere deep within he called out for George before falling into unconsciousness.

Later that afternoon he struggled back to the life, he was alone, in pain and now barefoot. He struggled to his feet holding his ribs. He felt a sharp pain stab through his back and middle. His gut was starting to cramp and he felt the need to piss, so he hid behind the dumpster and relieved himself. He grimaced as his urine burned and wasn't really surprised to find it dark and bloody. Again he thought of George and he knew that George would take care of him. George meant safety. Somehow he had to find George. He didn't know where home was but maybe if he just didn't think he could find George, whoever he was.

It was odd how memories were coming to him unbidden, but when he tried to concentrate on anything it would fade away.

He finished his business and started to limp toward the end of the alley back toward the sidewalk. He heard something coming from the other end and fearing his attackers were coming back he began to run still holding his middle.

Fear is a powerful motivator and the adrenaline pumping in his system pushed him out of the alley into the bright afternoon sun and then into the street, where he found himself bouncing off the hood of a car, and then nothing at all as the familiar blackness took him again.

()()()

Right out of the academy, Buck had been assigned to a different precinct, which worked out just fine for him. He loved his father, but he really hadn't wanted to work in his shadow. He loved his job, and thanked Celine he had wised up and chosen this path for his life. He felt this to be his calling, and was glad that he had listened to his heart.

Buck’s partner Jason R. Gonot, was also Tenctonese and a couple of years older. There were quite a few differences but, in the end they seemed to get along, learning from one another, the bond between them growing. Buck had already learned a lot from his patient older partner.

Like George, the two had spent every waking moment in the search for Matt. Jason felt concern for Buck, and he wanted to help. He knew how close Buck’s father and Matthew Sikes were. Anyone who knew them, could see that the bond they shared was deeper than mere friendship. Like most longtime partners they were brothers, they would die for one another. He also knew that that bond had grown to include the whole Francisco family, with Sikes becoming a part of the close knit group. So in Buck’s mind and heart Sikes was family, even if he was human.

They were nearing the end of their shift and about to head back to the station when suddenly there was a screech of brakes, a loud crash and people screaming.

Jason quickly parked their unit as close to the disturbance as he could get. From their vantage point it seemed to be an ordinary fender bender with injuries. When they got closer they could see people kneeling beside someone lying in the middle of the street. Two human females were crying and a Tenctonese male in a business suit was trying his best to keep the accident victim still. "Now sir, please! You are hurt, you must lie still until help arrives."

"NO! I’ve got to get away, let me go!" the victim, a bony human male with long stringy hair, was struggling weakly. "I need George, where is George?"

"Please sir, you have a head injury! You must lie still"

Jason and Buck walked up on this scene and seeing the car’s busted windshield and the injured man in the street surmised that he had been hit by the car and impacted the windshield. Jason quickly knelt down next to the male holding the victim while Buck started to question the different people standing around, "What happened here."

"I don’t know exactly, he just came out of no where. You could tell the guy driving tried to miss him but he just bounced off the front of his car"

Jason was trying to asses the man’s injuries, he gently moved the long hair out of the man’s eyes, and then looking closely underneath the ragged beard he caught his breath as he saw a familiar face. "Buck! Come here!" he shouted.

"Okay, on my way!" he shouted back as he trotted over to his partner.

Jason looked up with wide eyes full of anxiety, "It’s Matt Buck, and he's hurt bad."

"What?!" Buck fell to his knees beside the now unconscious man. Jason was right. Matt had lost a lot of weight, his hair was longer than usual, and he had grown a scraggly beard, but this was Matt.

"How bad is it?" he asked his partner fearfully.

"Don’t know yet, there are some internal injuries I’m sure, along with a pretty serious head injury, and his leg is broken below the knee, but other than that, I just don’t know. There’s something else."

"What?" Buck was almost afraid to ask.

Jason then showed him the ligature marks he had found around the man's wrists and moving a pant leg up he pointed out the same marks on the ankles above his bare feet. Opening the ill fitting and much too large shirt, they saw that Matt’s thin torso was crisscrossed with lacerations of various lengths and depths, they had not been caused by the accident, some of them had already begun to heal while others seemed to be only a few days old. His body was covered with bruises from blue black and deep purple to varying shades of green. Some of them might have been caused by the impact but it was clear that most of the wounds were several hours old. Some maybe days old.

Jason continued to check him over trying to do what little he could until the ambulance could get there. Buck held his head steady while Jason and the other male turned him on his side to make sure there were no serious wounds on his back. That’s when Jason saw the bruises there. If possible they were worse than the ones they had seen on the front of his body. His whole back was a patchwork of black running to purple. Jason guessed that the man had been beaten or kicked repeatedly. Jason closed his eyes for a moment then looked over to meet the sorrow filled eyes of his young partner. "Buck, are you okay?"

"Yeah, umm…I just…umm…I don’t…" more and more upset, Buck lapsed into Tenctonese, "how could anyone do something like this?" He said blinking the tears from his eyes. He gained some small measure of control over his emotions and continued in English, "Why not just kill him? I don’t understand, why do this? What kind of monster would do this? Jason he must have been in hell, why couldn’t we find him?" Buck was very close to the edge by now.

"I don’t know Buck, but you have to calm down, Panicking now won’t help Matt, he needs you to keep your head." His voice was calm and strong, almost like an anchor for the younger cop to grab hold of. "We may not have been able to find him in these last weeks that’s true, but we have him now. You are here with him now, be strong for him, ok?"

Buck pulled his ragged thoughts back together. Pushing the fear to the back of his mind, he held Matt’s head steady while Jason finished his inspection.

Gently they lay Matt on his back once again, and he seemed to be trying to come around. Buck watched as Matt opened his eyes, the long lashes fluttering on the pale thin cheeks. The eyes opened wide and Buck was taken aback by the stark terror evident in those dark eyes. Matt began to fight weakly at the two officers. "No don’t touch me, please don’t touch me." he whimpered.

Afraid that he would hurt himself, Buck started talking in a low soothing voice, "Hey, Matt its me, calm down, its Buck. Can you hear me? Calm down, come back."

Matt’s eyes grew wider, much too big in his shrunken face and began to move frantically as if searching for an escape. "Let me go! I have to find George, please let me go, I need to find him."

"It's okay, Matt, listen to me, it's Buck. Can you hear me?" Buck gently patted the man on the cheek, "I'm not George, but I'll get him for you, you just have to stay with me here, okay? Come on stay with me Matt, look at me!"

The eyes stopped their frantic movements, and bore into Buck’s. "Bbuckkk…?" the raspy almost unrecognizable voice stuttered. By this time Matt had begun to tremble violently.

"Yes, its me," Buck's shoulders slumped in relief, "you’re okay now. You’re safe."

A shaky blood smeared hand came up to touch Buck’s face, his fingers leaving bloody smears across the smooth cheek. "Safe?" Matt’s brown eyes never left Buck’s face.

"Yes, Matt you're safe now, I wont let anyone hurt you." He took the hand in his own holding it tightly.

"I want to go home." he said in a small voice almost childlike. "Do you know where home is?" he looked hopefully into Buck's eyes, his confusion was heartbreaking.

Suddenly his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he began to seize. All they knew to do next was to pin the man’s flailing limbs to the pavement, hoping to keep him from injuring himself anymore than he already was.

Finally, after what seemed like a small eternity to Buck, the seizure ended. Jason was watching the injured man closely. "Buck quickly get him on his side again, I think he’s going to throw up!" Sure enough, Matt began to gag, bringing up blood.

"This is not good," Jason muttered under his breath.

He stood and placed a hand on Buck’s shoulder, "See if you can keep him quiet, I’ll get a blanket from the cruiser. Will you be alright?" Buck only nodded, looking up at his partner with round fear filled eyes. Jason squeezed the shoulder, "I’ll only be a minute." Buck nodded again, never letting go of Matt's hand.

Buck noticed that Matt was watching him again, unblinking eyes never leaving the young officers face. Those eyes bore into him with an intensity Buck had never seen before. It was like Matt was holding on to him with his eyes. Buck pulled the broken man into his arms and held him to his chest. "It's going to be ok, Matt. You're safe now." he said as he held the trembling form even tighter, cradling Matt's head against his shoulder. "You're safe, and I won't let anyone hurt you again, I promise." all fear of possible injury to Matt’s neck forgotten in his need to comfort his friend.

Retrieving the blanket from the car Jason made his way back to his waiting partner and injured friend, in the distance he could hear the high piercing whale of the coming ambulance and released his breath in a sigh of relief.

()()()

George had been driving around aimlessly for the last two hours, still nothing, but how could he stop looking. His cell phone rang, and he pulled his car over to park in a restaurant parking lot.

He took his phone from his inside jacket pocket and looked at the caller ID. It was Buck. George started not to answer, he really wasn’t in the mood for another ‘go home and get some rest speech’, but changed his mind.

There was no greeting just "Where are you?" Buck once again had lapsed into Tenctonese.

"I’m in a parking lot why?" George asked confused.

There was a pause, and then "Dad, we found Matt." his voice was choked.

George was stunned. He felt his head spin and realized that he had stopped breathing. He mentally shook himself, "how bad is it?"

"He’s alive but Dad, you really need to hurry." George could hear the strain in his son’s voice although he answered this time in English.

"Yes, of course, but where are you?"

"Oh, I’m sorry, Dad. Ahh…we’re at County."

"I'm on my way."

George could still hear the fear in Buck’s voice as he turned on the siren and attached the flashing light to the top of his car. He quickly pulled into traffic and made his way to the hospital. He had to get there fast. He quietly prayed to any deity that would listen that he wouldn’t be too late.

()()()

George had called Susan from the his car on the way to the hospital. She grabbed her purse and fairly flew over to Matt and Cathy's apartment.

She nervously knocked on the door hoping that she might catch Cathy at home. "Oh, I should have called!" she scolded herself, but after talking to George, getting to Cathy had been the only thing on her mind.

Cathy had slept very little in the last several weeks, throwing herself into her work trying to distract her mind, or simply driving around aimlessly in a vain attempt at finding Matt herself. Finally in a state of total exhaustion, she had made it back to the apartment. Not bothering to change out of her clothes, she collapsed on the bed, and was asleep before her head had touched the pillow.

The insistent knocking had eventually broken through to her consciousness and she forced herself to wake up. "I'm coming," she called from her bedroom, trying to smooth the wrinkles from her clothing.

When she opened the door, the look on her friend's face told her that she had news about Matt, and suddenly she felt very afraid. "Please tell me he isn't dead."

Susan took her cold hands in her own, and tried to sound reassuring as she spoke, "He's not dead, but George said that we need to get to the hospital as soon as possible. Come on, I'll drive."

Cathy grabbed the purse that had been dropped by the door earlier, and ran down the stairs after Susan and out to her car.

Susan was driving wildly hazard lights flashing, and horn honking. The whole thing seemed surreal, every light turned green before they got to it, and it seemed that every slow moving vehicle had moved out of the way or turned off. It almost seemed like some unseen hand was making their way clear.

Finally they were at the hospital, Cathy jumping out of the car before Susan could come to a complete stop. She clutched her purse tightly to her chest, and ran for the ER door. George was just inside the door waiting for her. "Oh, George where is he? Is he alright?"

George took her by the arm and led her to the family waiting room, where they sat down, "I haven’t seen him yet. I just got here myself. Buck and his partner, Jason, found him. He was the victim of a traffic accident, but he had other injuries as well. Buck said that he was conscious up until the paramedics got there."

"Oh, George, I’ve got to see him!"

"I thought you might, and I need to talk to Buck, I think he went to the men’s room to clean himself up." George gave Cathy's shoulder a reassuring squeeze and walked in the direction of the Men's room.

Susan took Cathy's hands in her own, "Are you sure you're up to this? Do you think they will let you?"

Cathy looked into her friend's eyes, "I have to see him, to know that he's still alive. It's something I've got to do. I feel like I might burst if I don't. I've done a few research studies here and I know most of the ER staff. I don't believe they will keep me out."

"Alright I'll wait for you here," Susan smiled encouragingly.

Cathy took a deep breath and straitening her shoulders, she turned and left the waiting room.

()()()

When George walked into the men’s room, he could hear the sounds of someone retching into one of the toilets. He found Jason leaning against the wall facing the stalls. Jason merely pointed toward the first stall and gave George a sympathetic smile.

"Thank you Jason," he told his son’s partner. "thank you for being there for him, but I think I’ve got it from here."

"Whatever you say sir," Jason nodded but before leaving for the waiting room, he took George in a quick embrace, "He’s a stubborn man and he's got a good chance, don’t lose hope."

The detective almost lost his composure, he returned the embrace slapping Jason on the back, "Thank you Jason, I’ll try my best."

George then leaned on the wall where Jason had stood only moments before and waited for his son.

Buck had never felt so sick, he had retched until nothing was left in his stomach and he was reduced to dry heaves. He was cold, clammy, and trembling. On shaking legs he stood and flushed the toilet. He wiped his mouth on a piece of toilet tissue and then flushed it down as well. That’s when he heard a knock on the stall door.

"Buck?" unmistakably his father’s voice.

"I’m fine, ah…really I'm okay." He was almost afraid to open the door, afraid to look his father in the face. He had battled his emotions since finding Matt, and feared that just looking at his father’s face would make him break down completely.

"Come on out, Son."

The door opened slowly, and immediately Buck was enveloped in the arms of his father. He was right, he lost it completely.

George just stood holding his son tightly in his arms letting him sob into his shoulder. He felt Bucks arms slide inside his open jacket and around his waist. "Let go Son, release your emotions." He crooned to Buck in Tenctonese.

"I’m so proud of you, from what I hear, the two of you did a very good job." He said this time in English.

"But Dad, you don’t understand, that was Matt! Not just another vic. This was someone I know, someone I love, If he dies…Oh Dad, he looked so horrible. And what they did to him! I can still see his face, his eyes! He kept looking at me like I was the only thing he could see." He sobbed again, a fresh wave breaking on his father’s shoulder. George merely held him tighter, gently swaying from side to side letting him cry it out. After he had quieted down a little he told his father, "He was looking for you, Dad. He wasn't very coherent, but he said he had to find you, that was all he cared about at the time. he couldn't tell us anything, I don't believe he even knew who he was."

This information broke George's heart, he felt as if he had failed his friend. 'He was looking to me for help and I could do nothing.' His thoughts were accusing.

Buck was still very ragged emotionally. "You know, there are people in your life, who you believe will always be there. They’re the anchors in your life, and you can't even remember when they weren't around. Then one day you’re face to face with the possibility that maybe that person won’t be there any more…" he struggled in English. He took a deep breath and continued in his birth tongue, "I'm not ready to say goodbye to Matt. There are too many things I need to say to him." He paused trying to get control of himself before continuing, "Too many things I need to unsay."

George continued to hold Buck in his arms, "Well, Son, Matt is strong and you know how stubborn he can be, I don't see him giving up without a fight. Do you? Don’t give up on him now, Son. Not yet."

Suddenly Buck pushed himself away, apologizing in English "I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me, standing here crying like an infant." He said, savagely wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.

George lifted his son's chin to look into his eyes, "Listen to me Son, never apologize for feeling. When you stop feeling you become less a person. Without feeling you are only an automation, a robot. Feeling things only means that you are alive."

Buck then noticed the unshed tears in his father’s eyes. "Are you okay Dad?"

George laughed, "Yes son, for now."

George took a long look at his son and pushed him against the wall. "Stay here for a minute." Not wanting for Buck to get a look at himself in the mirror, he then walked over to the sinks. He turned on the tap in the first sink he came to and held his handkerchief under the water. He came back to Buck and began to clean the smears of dried blood from his face. "There now, you look quite handsome again."

Buck held his father’s eyes, passing him a look of gratitude, and in his imagination he could almost feel Matt's fingers as they had touched his face to see if he was real or only an illusion. He couldn’t help himself as he shuddered slightly.

"Will you do me a favor?"

"Sure, Dad, whatever you want." Buck said with a frown, for the first time noticing the dark stains on his uniform shirt.

"After you've gone home to get a clean shirt," he smiled at his son's sheepish look, "would you please call Emily at Princeton, and let her know what’s happening, and then stop by Vessna's school and bring her here. I can’t leave. Not until I know something. Oh, and I guess we should try to find Kirby somehow. I don't even know where to begin."

"Don't worry Dad, I'll take care of everything. It will give me something to do, I hate just waiting." Buck said with a wobbly smile.

George took his son’s face in both hands and kissed his cheek. "Oh, Son I love you so much. Don’t you ever forget that, alright?"

Worried for his father, Buck kissed him in return, "I love you too, and always will. Don’t you ever forget that, okay? Listen, Dad, you're right. Matt's never run from a fight yet. He's going to make it, he has to."

()()()

Dr. Thomas Fredricks was quickly assessing the condition of his patient. The man was a mess, even after most of the blood had been cleaned away the doctor could see numerous lacerations and contusions, and probably a few broken ribs. There didn’t seem to be any damage done to his neck or spine, but he did have a rather serious head wound.

Turning him on his side the doctor noted the heavy bruising to his back. The bruising around the kidneys had him worried. "Let's get a Foley…Oh man!," he shook his head as he checked out the infection visible around the anus, "There has been some sexual activity and I’m afraid I’ll need to lance some of the lesions to clean out the infection…and there seems to be quite a bit of infection that will have to be removed."

When finished, they turned him to lay on his back once again. Fredricks checking him closer, pulled his breath in across his teeth. "Man! Look at this there are slash wounds over most of his torso. The marks seemed to start at his throat and were scattered over his chest, stomach and even his belly.

Working his way down Matt’s body he continued, "His belly's extended, that doesn't look good. The EMTs said that he had been throwing up blood." He looked up in time to see Cathy dressed in scrubs, coming to the door. Suddenly a light went off in his head and his eyes grew wide, "Oh, no!" and he quickly looked into his patient’s face starring hard. "I couldn’t see it before, but it’s him alright."

"What are you talking about?" the nurse asked.

"Read the name on the chart!" he cut his eyes sharply over to her.

"Matthew Sikes. Hey! This is Matt?!" her own eyes wide and incredulous. "Is he undercover or something? Poor guy, I guess somebody blew his cover. Does Cathy know?"

"Here she comes now, have we got a surgeon coming?"

"Yeah, Hastings is on his way down, should be here any minute."

"Good, the sooner the better." He watched Cathy enter the trauma room. "Cathy, you really shouldn’t be here."

"I know Tommy, but I have to be here. What is his condition?"

"Look, Hastings is on his way down here now to take him to surgery. All I know for sure is that he’s bleeding internally. You’ll have to talk to Hastings after surgery, okay?"

She swallowed hard and held back the tears that threatened. "I understand."

"Hey, let us get him up to surgery and I’ll come out to talk to you, I promise I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, but you really need to leave." The eyes over his mask were sympathetic but adamant.

"Ok, but please let me see him first. I promise I’ll go wait for you outside, just let me see him."

He nodded and motioned for her to come, "Okay, but make it quick."

Walking to the examination table, she was not prepared for what she saw. She wanted to turn and run. This was not her Matt. This pile of bones lying so very still almost lifelessly on the exam table, this couldn't be her Matt. How could anyone this emaciated still be alive?

He fluttered his eyes open as she cautiously came near. He had been intubated and couldn’t speak, but his eyes spoke enough. Cathy saw raw fear etched into the depths of those soft brown eyes and they seemed to cling to her soul. She felt the room spin momentarily and realized that she had been holding her breath.

"Now you listen to me Matthew Sikes, you're going to live! Do you hear me!? They are going to take you to surgery to fix what those monsters did to you." She softened, lightly passing her fingers over the longer strands of his dirty hair. Squeezing her eyes shut to stop the tears that threatened, she continued. "I know you are so very tired my love, but you have to fight a little longer, please Matt don't leave me, not now." She took his hand and lifted it to her lips, kissing it through the mask she wore. She then rubbed the back of that hand across her cheek and on up to her temple, "I need you in my life. I haven't needed anyone but myself for such a long time, but I need you, maybe more than I even knew myself."

She looked into those blank eyes again, and thought she might have seen a spark.

Hastings barged through the door, at that time, "Okay people what have we got here?"

Fredricks called to Cathy, "I'm sorry, but we need to get him upstairs now. Someone will keep you updated."

They transferred Matt to a gurney, and wheeled him out of the room. She stayed with him as far as the elevator, then reluctantly she released his hand and the doors swooshed to a close.

Cathy stood there alone, wanting to get herself together before she joined the others. Not until now did she realize the depth of feeling she had for him. She had known that she loved him, but she hadn't realized how much until the thought of losing him hit her head on. Matt was her friend, and her lover, she felt that in some ways he brought out the best in her. For the first time in her life there was someone who supported her one hundred percent, never judging her actions or asking for anything in return. She didn't even think of him as human anymore. He was Matt, her Matt, the reason she had chosen to live again. Tears came to her eyes and she thought to herself, "if I lose him, I will lose myself. I will die too."

"Cathy, is everything alright?" George had walked up behind her lightly touching her on the arm.

She wanted to scream "No! Nothing is alright!" but she only nodded, and allowed George to lead her back to the waiting room.