Author's Note: I am sorry I took so long to update this story! I had so many ideas for different fics that some of them I just didn't have time for. Thank you to all those who reviewed telling me to get my butt in gear again and finish. I will try to finish this story really soon now that I have it rolling again.

Chapter 4

Detective Randall of missing children had been working on a case when his partner came into his office almost ecstatic with the chance to get out of the stuffy office and outside.

"Hey Randall, we got a case." The detective sitting at the desk looked up and focused on the younger man leaning against the door frame.

"Young white male checked into hospital a few hours ago with severe internal injuries. Consistent with rape." Randall blinked at him.

"This has what to do with us? We're not the ones who take those cases." The younger detective sighed.

"I know, but they said that you were requested specifically"

Randall sighed, putting down the file in his hands. He had been going over some of the old files of missing children in his jurisdiction trying to relate them to any reports in the last year or so. He had solved previous old cases by doing so and hoped that he might do so again.

One of the ones he most regretted was the case of the young Winston boy. It was a case taken from another jurisdiction when the suspect had been seen heading towards his town. He ran his fingers gently over the picture of the albino boy. He was a pretty boy and had probably grown up to be a very beautiful teenager. He sighed, if he had grown up at all. To have to leave the child with a rapist was a blow to the heart, made worse by the fact that they had never found him. He felt as if he had let the child down by not saving him, but maybe if he kept looking, he might find him. Standing, he grabbed his suit jacket and slipped it on while gesturing his younger partner towards the door.

The doctor met them at the front desk, a tall man with graying hair and a nervous smile. He shook their hands politely and introduced himself as Dr. Howard as he led them to the elevator, pressing the button for the 4th floor. The sign 'Intensive Care' on the wall across from the elevator doors when they opened told them that the injuries were bad. Coming to a stop outside a closed door, the doctor took an audible breath and turned to face them.

"I didn't want to tell you this over the phone, but I requested you specifically for a reason"

Randall looked at him patiently. The doctor took another deep breath. "I was watching a show on missing children on TV last night and I believe this young man might be one of the children I saw. He was barely conscious when he was brought in but he told me his name before he went under," he paused.

Randall's partner stirred beside him. "Well what was it?" The doctor looked at them square on for the first time since they had arrived.

"Dallas Winston"

His partner heard the sudden sharp intake of breath before Randall was pushing past him and the doctor towards the door, leaning in to see through the tall, skinny window. He frowned upon sighting the small crowd of scruffy teenagers surrounding the bed, blocking the view of its occupant.

"Who are they?" he asked, turning to face the doctor again.

"Friends of the teen, they are the ones who brought him. Stayed here the whole time until he got out of surgery. They've been there ever since."

Randall gestured to the door.

"Can we go in?" The doctor started.

"Oh, yes. Here let me, I will ask them to wait outside."

The detectives waited outside as the doctor opened the door and went inside, speaking quietly to the occupants of the room. They only protested a bit before being silenced by the only seeming adult in the room and ushered out, staring at the detectives as they passed. Randall stopped them as they started moving down the hall.

"You are the ones who brought him in?" The tall man nodded.

"Then I'm sorry, but I am going to have to ask you to stay. I'm going to need statements from you all as well."

One of the younger men seemed about to protest but was silenced by a look from the older man.

"We'll be here. Anything to help Dally."

Randall felt a rising of hope in his chest at the nickname. Maybe, just maybe, the boy in the bed was the one he was searching for. Motioning to his partner, who snorted as they turned away from the young men, mumbling "greasers" under his breath he stepped into the room. Walking around the bed to join the doctor who was checking the machines attached to the slender figure in the bed, he froze as the boy's face came into view and stared. There was no question that the boy in the bed was Dallas.

He was right; the boy had grown into a beauty. He had an almost delicate face with perfectly white skin, clear ice blue eyes stared out at him surrounded by snowy lashes. Hair about shoulder length lay around his head, wisps gently grazing his cheekbones. His body was clearly outlined under the thin blanket over him, slender and long, delicate hands resting on the sheets. He looked at the boy's face again and flushed.

Blue eyes were glaring at him out of a face twisted into a scowl. Dallas had seen him looking over his body and was not impressed. The pointed chin came up and his lip curled, showing even white, but slightly pointed teeth.

"You's got somethin' ta say ta me?"

Beside Randall his partner winced. The boy's thick New York accent had meshed with the local one, turning the boy's speech into a twisted sounding, almost southern drawl. His words and the appearance of the boys that were waiting in the hall clicked together in Randall's mind. That explained how they had not found Dallas before; the police don't pay much attention to greasers.

A muted thud from out in the corridor made him glance towards the door, but after no repetition, he ignored it and pulled out his notebook and a pen.

"I know this is going to be hard, but I need you to tell me what happened. We need information if we are going to catch the one that assaulted you." Dallas froze, eyes shifting around nervously.

"It was nothing, I'm alright." Randall sighed. This was why he had never liked investigating assault cases.

A louder thud from the hall and the distant sounds of shouting reached his ears and he turned to the door in time to see it swing open to admit a tall, heavily muscled man. The relation to Dally was obvious although the man was not an albino, but the resemblances between the two wasn't what held his attention. It was the gleaming barrel of the shotgun pointed directly at him.