Summary: This is "The Lost Child" redone. I decided to start from the beginning of the show. The rating will stay the same.
Brandilyn Finch sat in her house in Queens, waiting for her mother to come home. Because her mother was a cop, her hours were demanding to say the least. Brandi looked at her cell phone watch. 9:00 in the evening. "okay, Mom should be home now," Brandi said to no one in particular as her cat Mittens came into the living room, her tail up like an exclamation point and giving off a loud meow. Since Brandi's father Peter Finch had died on 9/11 Kate Finch had done everything to be home before dark. Especially since she had become a detective for the precinct in Queens. Since 9/11 Kate had gotten increasingly paranoid about leaving Brandi alone at night. Before 9/11 when her father had been alive Brandi often went to stay with her Uncle Harold who lived in Manhattan. Since her father's death all visits to him had stopped when her mother told her that Uncle Harold had died.
Brandi looked at the watch for the upteenth time when she heard a sharp rap on the door. Her mother usually entered the apartment. She never knocked. Brandi's heart jumped into her throat as the door was unlocked and opened. "The little girl has to be here somewhere. Mr. Wren said he needed to see her," a low voice said. It was so low that Brandi wouldn't have understood him if she had the dishwashee going and the dryer.
"She has to be here. Since her mother got killed an hour ago, she can't stay here alone," another man said, the words causing all the blood to siphone out of Brandi's veins. Her mom? Surely they meant someone else. Kate always took her gun with her. There wasn't much of a snowball's chance in hell of her mother getting shot. Or if she was shot, Kate would come back swinging. It had happened last year in Hell's Kitchen when Kate was going undercover to stop a ring that exploited 15-year-old girls.
Before Brandi could even move or think, the two men came into the living room, wearing suits. They looked like Hotch on the show "Criminal MindS" that her mother watched every week. 'Brandi Finch?" Low voice asked.
"Yes Sir," Brandi said.
"We need you to come with us. Our boss wants to talk to you," High=-Pitched voice said.
"I don't know you. My mother told me never to go with strangers," Brandi said, eyeing the strangers warily.
"That is very good advise, little one, but our boss wishes to see you. Now we could sedate you or you can walk out," low voice said.
"All right," Brandi agreed reluctantly.
"Leave your things here. Our boss says you can come get them later," high-picth said as Brandi pulled on her reversible blue coat. Brandi followed the two men to what looked like a Mercedes Benz with black tinted windows. Brandi entered when one of the men opened the car door for her, wondering if she was making a huge mistake. Children in Queens were taught at a young age to never get into a car they didn't know. Low voice was the driver and the car started up without a hint of car problems.
"Where are you taking me?" Brandi asked.
"Our boss says that he'll explain everything. You just come with us," High-Pitch said. This one was the kinder looking of the two. Low voice acted as if he didn't speak unneccessaryly. Brandi then noticed that they took the exit to the Brooklyn Bridge. Apparently this was where the boss wanted to meet. 10 or fifteen minutes later they stopped in front of the massive bridge where a lone man stood looking out at the slate-gray water. Low voice stopped the car and High-Pitch opened Brandi's door. With a jerky turn the lone man turned to look at Brandi as she was led to him. He had brown hair with a hint of gray and blue eyes that were magnified by glasses. It must have been a trick of the light, but it looked as if a glassy, soft look entered the man's eyes as he looked at her.
"Brandilyn Finch?" The man asked.
"Yes? Who are you? What do you want with me?" Brandi asked warily. Her mother had always told her to be careful when it came to strangers. The man's expression was warm and soft, but he was still a stranger.
"Brandi, it's me. Uncle Harold," the man said, nearly bowling Brandi over.
"W-what. My uncle Harold died 10 years ago," Brandi said, blinking behind her own glasses hard. The man gripped her shoulder gently.
"Brandi, you have to believe me. It's really me, Sweetheart. Uncle Harold. When you were little you used to love visiting me. Your favorite Disney movie was "Sleeping Beauty." Everytime you visited I had to show you that movie," Uncle Harold said, touching her face gently with the other hand. Brandi felt equal parts anger and sadness go through her.
"Let go of me! You're lying!" Brandi nearly shouted as she broke away from him. A look of shock was in his features.
"Brandi, please. You are my niece and I love you. Your mother is dead and you haven't any place to go. Please, Sweetheart," Harold said, reaching forward to touch her face again.
"Don't touch me. This conversation is over and I'm going home," Brandi turned. A sharp pain entered the back of her neck. She felt Harold take her into his arms gently.
"I'm sorry, Brandi, but I can't let you go. Just go to sleep, baby. Things will look better after you wake up," Harold said, kissing her forehead as Brandi fell into a deep sleep.
Harold Finch watched the monitor in his library. His niece had been asleep for hours. Finch had hoped he wouldn't have to sedate her to get her to come with him, but when she had turned belligerent and said she was going home, Finch didn't see as he had many choices. He couldn't allow Brandi to go home since Moretti's hired men were probably there at Kate's apartment, ransacking it. Sure, Brandi might hate him for what he had done, but his brother would never forgive him if Brandi got killed. Finch pulled up a picture. It was him and Peter, Brandi's father, with Brandi at three years old with one skinny arm around Peter's neck. The other arm was around Finch's.
Finch brought up the camera link again. Brandi moved slightly and sat up, her movements slightly dizzy. Finch stood and made his way to the room he had put her in. He unlocked the door and entered. Brandi looked up an angry look in her blue eyes that were much like his and her father's. "Where am I? What did you do?" Brandi asked in a sharp voice.
"It's going to be all right, Brandi. I brought you here to keep you safe. I could have avoided sedating you if you had cooperated. But you chose to get noisy and I had to put you to sleep. Now, I want you to behave yourself. If you act like you did at the bridge, I'll have to sedate you. I don't want to have to chloroform you again," Finch said, pushing a lock of her brown hair gently behind her ear.
"What do you want?" Brandi asked.
"Brandi, I'm the only family you've got. I want you to come live with me. Now, are you hungry?" Finch asked, changing the subject.
"A little, but I don't want to live here. I want to go home," Brandi said sadly.
Finch cupped her face gently, but firmly. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that, Brandi. The men who killed your mother might think they can do it to you as well. If you stay with me, baby, you'll be safe," Finch said.
"Are you really my uncle?" Brandi asked. Finch smiled.
"I really am. Of course I may have to legally adopt you if Moretti is looking for you. Also change your hair, glasses, and clothes," Finch said.
"No way. I like my hair, glasses, and clothes," Brandi said, looking down at her wrinkled top and khalki capris.
"Those are the only clothes you have. If you remember I had my employees telling you to leave everything. I can replace everything you own," Finch said gently.
"But I have some things that are sentimental. A sweatshirt that belonged to Dad. Some pictures, CD's, and books," Brandi said, blinking hard.
"Okay. I'll have my associates go to your house and pack everything up. They can defend themselves. You are just a child and I can't lose you like I did 10 years ago," Finch said.
"Okay. Thank you...Uncle Harold," Brandi said hesitantly. Finch smiled and kissed her through her hair gently.
"That's my girl. Now what are you hungry for?" Finch asked as they walked out of the room.
"I don't know. Surprise me," Brandi said, sitting down on the leather couch in Finch's living room.
"I'll do just that. Just make yourself comfortable and at home," Finch said, sitting back down at his computer and going to a Chinese food site. He put in an order on his credit card and the address. Finch smiled as the order was accepted. The sound of a hiccup and sniffle got his attention. He turned and saw Brandi wiping her eyes by lifting her glasses slightly. Finch limped to her and grabbing her chin, raised her eyes to meet his. "You okay, Sweetheart?" Finch asked.
"Uncle Harold, is my mother really gone?" Brandi asked in a shaking voice. Finch sat next to her and wrapping his arms around her, held her tightly.
"I'm afraid so, baby. But I'm here for you. How'd you like to help me with a project?" Finch asked, stroking her hair gently. She looked up at him.
"What is it?" Brandi asked.
"I can't explain right now, but I'm looking for someone else to give me a hand. When I find him, I'll tell both of you together. I've been sweeping the city. He's a hard man to find, but by tomorrow you both will know," Finch said.
"Okay. You will remember to tell me?" Brandi asked.
"Yes. Now can you smile for me?" Finch asked. Brandi smiled faintly, not knowing how far this rabbit hole was going to lead her.