On Hold 

Author: Kimberly <starbuck20032000@yahoo.com> 

Spoilers: Invocation, Empedocles 

Category: Pre-XF, Doggett-centric 

Rating: PG-13 for emotional trauma 

Summary: Chronicles the search for Luke Doggett as emotions run high. 

Archive: XFMU, Addicted to Doggett. Feel free to archive anywhere, just drop me a line first! 

Disclaimer: Oh, I don*t own these characters. I am certainly not making money from doing this. Thank you, Chris Carter. Thank you for nine fabulous years of memories! 

Dedication: My heartfelt thanks goes out to my beta reader, my friend Trust. Without her, well, there would be many mistakes. So, Trust, thanks for putting up with my rants and concerns about Doggett*s past. "Bring it!" :D 

*************************** 

"Daddy, Daddy! One more time!" The little sandy-haired boy held up his Tee Ball bat and waited for his daddy to toss the ball. 

"Okay. Here we go!" Up went the ball at the sound of the father*s voice. The bat connected with it and a squeal of pure joy followed as the boy ran to the trash can lid that made first base. "I*m comin*. I*m gonna get you!" The boy*s father scooped him up and ruffled his hair. "Alright, little buddy, time for a bath and bed." The screen door creaked open. John Doggett hoisted Luke onto his shoulders and carried him to Beth*s waiting arms. "Bath and bedtime for the baseball player." He smiled at her and leaned in for a kiss. 

"I*ve been watching. Coach needs a bath, too." Beth returned the kiss, which was interrupted by her son.  

"Mommy! I hit the ball all the way to the tree!" 

"Did you? Well, I think that deserves a second bedtime story." Luke*s excitement was infectious and flowed to his parents automatically. John let Beth scoop up Luke and take him for a bath and read the all-important bedtime stories. 

Soon bath time was over and John made his way to Luke*s bedroom, taking a minute to watch the calm rise and fall that accompanied his breathing. He kissed his son*s forehead, pulled the comforter up just a little, and left the door slightly cracked in case Luke had another nightmare. Quietly, he slipped into his own bedroom to find Beth already under the covers. He crawled in beside her and laid his head against her shoulder. 

"Mmmm..." she moved slightly, "He*s still asleep?" 

"Yes," John put an arm across her body, "Luke*s asleep, but I*m not." He kissed her as she snuggled closer to him.  

"Well, I*ve got a big day ahead of me tomorrow with the Matthews case drawing to a close so I need to sleep." Beth closed her eyes and was soon breathing steadily. John sighed, but kept his arm around her and tried to get some sleep.

********************************* 

 

The tick of a clock measures time.

The beat of a heart measures life. 

Lives put on hold can have no measurement, for the people inhabiting such lives pay no attention to the world around them. These are lives that no longer follow the natural routines of the day. These are lives missing that special *something* that kept them focused, that made their lives worth living. These are lives that separate among themselves into distinctly different categories - before and after.

********************************* 

 

August 12, 1997 

An ordinary morning on an ordinary day. Millions of people across the nation awoke to begin routines that failed to amaze them any longer. Families rush to complete morning duties because they elected to hit the snooze button once more. They greet the other members of the household and wish them a good day. A kiss on the cheek and they are off to work or school. They fail to recognize the beauty of the sunrise. They fail to fully appreciate each other. 

Families in Long Island, New York, began in this way. A quiet neighborhood awoke and rushed to work. But for one of those families, the day would merely be the beginning of shattered hopes and dreams. For this family, time would stop. Routines would cease to exist. For John Doggett, a crusade would begin. 

 

The night flew by and soon the sun was peeking through the mini-blinds. John awoke to the smell of fresh brewed coffee. He could hear Beth finishing her morning routine as he made his way to the kitchen. "Hey, beautiful. Where*s the munchkin? He made it through another night without waking." 

Beth smiled and straightened John*s tie. "He*s ready for school and sitting in the living room with his bat and ball. You*d better go say something to him." 

"Don*t I always?" John found Luke right where Beth said he would be. 

"Daddy, why do I have to use my left hand? All the other kids use their right hand and they laugh at me. They say I*m weird." Luke folded his arms and pouted. He could wrap his parents around his finger with the way his mouth contorted when he was upset.  

"Luke, only special people can be left-handed. Do you want to be exactly like everyone else? Besides, you are just like me and you can*t beat that." John wrapped his son in a bear hug, "You keep that bat and ball handy and we*ll play some more when I get home." 

"Alright!" Luke jumped from the couch to give his dad a kiss on the cheek and then ran to get mom because it was time to leave for school. 

An exchange of kisses and a wave sent Beth and Luke off to their destinations. She would drop him off at school and head to the law firm. John followed them out of the driveway and made his way to the NYPD where he was greeted by a pile of paperwork. Life at the Department was certainly hectic with the non-stop activity of the Child Abduction Task Force. John enjoyed his work, being able to reunite children and parents was amazing. Some cases had been hard to swallow, but he always considered his work as secondary to meeting Beth. On order from the defense attorney she worked for, she had been investigating John*s investigation, but they had ended up on the same team. He moved to the Task Force after they were married. It was a somewhat steadier schedule with excellent benefits. And, he was still there eight years later. 

John signed reports to make them official, put together case files to be closed, and caught up on the daily briefing. By the time he looked at the clock it was nearly nine. 

"Detective Doggett." A hand on his arm stopped him from walking to his office. Chief Hopkins motioned for John to follow him. "We need to talk for a moment. Privately." 

John followed him and could not help but feel the tension in the air. "Sir," he spoke once the office door had closed, "is it okay if you explain to me what this is about?" 

"Have a seat, John." Offer accepted, Hopkins folded his hands, then continued, "We received a phone call from your son*s school." John noticeably stiffened. "Knowing your occupation, they called here first. I asked them not to call your wife." 

Oh, God. John*s first thought was that Luke had been hurt, maybe broken his arm. "Sir, what hospital did they take him to?" 

"Luke didn*t return to class after morning recess. The administrators and teachers have combed the building, but they can*t locate him. He*s missing, John." 

Missing. Was it normal to hear such a word as if in a tunnel? 

"I...I need to go to Beth." It was all he could get out as shock began to set in. Hopkins escorted him to the parking garage, where John left without being fully aware of his destination. He turned down streets, stopped at stop lights - all on automatic. The law office of Fergueson, Maze, and Clay loomed high against the New York skyline. The receptionist immediately recognized John as he approached.  

 

"Mr. Doggett, Elizabeth is in a meeting. She should be out-" 

"Deloris," he interrupted, "I need her now." 

Deloris walked from her desk and, within a couple of minutes, she returned with Beth. "John? What*s going on? I was meeting with some clients."  

John lowered his eyes and held out his hand for her to take. "We have to go to the school." 

"Why?" He watched the blood drain from her face. 

"Honey...Luke didn*t come back after recess." 

Beth took a firm grip on his hand, "Oh, God," came out in a low whisper. John walked her out into the bright sunshine of the day and into the car that would carry them to the precipice of their lives. 

 

At the school, local police were already swarming the playground and cornering any student or teacher who had spoken with Luke Doggett that morning. They quickly took notice as the little boy*s parents pulled up. John Doggett was a popular figure with the investigators and they envied his luck at having Beth for a wife.  

"Randy. Chuck." John acknowledged the lead detectives while keeping his arm firmly around Beth. They had pulled over twice because she had thrown up. "Thanks for taking this, guys." 

"Yeah, no problem. I*m just sorry we don*t have more to go on." Randy rubbed the back of his neck. "All we*ve gotten so far is one minute he was there, the next he wasn*t. They*ve searched the school top to bottom, including the bathrooms and storage closets. Doggett, he*s just not here. Man, I don*t know what else to tell you."  

Beth had left his side and John peered across Randy and Chuck to see her walking across the playground. "I know this is local jurisdiction but-" 

Chuck stopped John mid-sentence and nodded, "Of course. We*ll keep you informed. I*ll call you every hour on the hour just so you know what we*re doing." 

John left the two investigators to catch up with Beth. The school day was being suspended because of the flurry of police activity. Parents and school buses were picking up children to take them to a safe location. He watched as mothers hugged their babies and his heart ached because he knew Beth was seeing the same thing. Luke*s second-grade teacher was standing to one side with a panic-stricken face. Officers were grilling her for what was to be the fifth time since the call came in. He found Beth sitting in one of the swings. "Beth? Honey?" 

When she failed to acknowledge him, John slowly crouched in front of her, "Beth?" He put a hand on her knee, which caused her to flinch as if she had been hit. 

"He couldn*t stop talking about tonight. I guess you promised to play ball with him because he talked non-stop about your plans." Beth*s eyes were locked on John, but he could tell she was not really seeing him. "Luke never let me play ball with him because he said it was daddy*s job." Her eyes began to glisten. 

John desperately wanted to get her away from the school and to a place where she could privately break down. He knew it was in her nature to hide her feelings. She had refused to cry at their wedding. But, Beth had broken down when Luke was born. They both had. 

Never could they have imagined the desperate heartache that would prevent them from breathing without effort. 

Yet, time refused to stand still.

*************************** 

"Doggett, we got this a couple of hours ago." Randy*s voice was heavy. "Hopkins has called the Feds. They*re sending over an agent familiar with these sorts of crimes." 

"Child abductions?" John examined the photo Randy handed him. "I*m the expert. It*s what they pay me for." 

"And you know you aren*t in charge of this case, Detective." Randy noticed Beth approaching from the bedroom and softened his voice, "You know Chuck and I are two of the best. You trained us. We*re going to find Luke. Beth, John - I promise you that we are following everything that comes in. Once that agent arrives, we*ll get *em over here." 

"Yeah," John closed the door behind Randy as he left. 

"Agent?" Beth*s voice had taken on a disconnected tone whenever she talked. "What*s that?" She motioned to the picture John was still holding. 

"This was sent to the Task Force a couple of hours ago. Addressed to me."  

The photograph showed a clear, green field with a few full trees surrounding it. Nothing was visible that would allow them to locate the area. John knew that was the worst part, having a clue without a connection. 

"They called in a federal agent from the Field Office in the City." 

"I see." Beth pulled the photo from John*s hand and retreated to the dining room table where she had begun to spread out bits of information in chronological order. All on automatic, all as she had been trained to do. 

"Beth, why don*t-" 

"Hundreds of children are abducted every year. From playgrounds, while they*re walking to and from school, and even from their own front yards." She sounded as if she was beginning a lecture on safety. "The first few hours are critical in locating witnesses and evidence." 

"Beth," John approached her quietly and wrapped his arms around her waist. 

After hours of not crying and holding onto the inner strength John had always admired in her, Beth began let go. There was no comfort to be given. He led her to the couch Luke had sat on just a few hours earlier. Beth curled into a fetal position, knees drawn tightly into her body, and gripped John*s shirt firmly in her hands. Nothing could explain the pain it caused John to see her like this, his wife. He would do anything for her, die for her, anything.

************************** 

The doorbell rang. 

John first looked at Beth, who had fallen asleep on his lap. He next looked at the clock. 

3pm. 

Beth had been asleep for an hour. He had kept watch while images of Luke ran through his mind. And, now, time had been pushed forward by someone outside this new private hell. So, he gently kissed his wife*s forehead while moving from the couch to answer the intruder*s call. 

"What is it?" Beth*s swollen eyes filled with fear as she focused on him. 

"Shh...it*s okay. You wanna come with me?" He held out his hand as he pointed to the door. She took hold and allowed him to lead her forward. 

They found Randy, Chuck, and a woman they did not recognize patiently waiting on their front steps. 

"John, Beth," Chuck addressed them first, "This is Special Agent Monica Reyes." 

Monica stepped forward and offered her hand to both John and Beth, in turn. "Mr. and Mrs. Doggett, I*ve been briefed on your son*s case and I am determined to help. I believe we can and will-" 

"How many child abductions have you worked, Agent Reyes?" John interrupted her mid-sentence. She could not possibly have the experience necessary to properly handle such a case. 

"Well," Monica*s palms became sweaty, "none, to be perfectly honest. But, with the evidence having a ritualistic edge-" 

Interrupted again, "Oh my God!" Beth stumbled into John, who quickly steadied her and pulled her back towards the couch. 

Randy, Chuck, and Monica followed them inside. Monica quickly took in her surroundings. Clean and homey. Chronological pictures of Luke lined the living room walls. A bat and glove laid beside the couch. 

"Rule number one, Agent Reyes," John glared at her from his position next to Beth, "Never make my wife cry. Ever." He meant it with every bone in his body. The worse had yet to come and he knew Beth would need strength for the future.  

Monica felt a lump in her throat. They were real people. She was wrong to think of them as statistics. They had been - until now. The sick taste of bile filled her esophagus. 

The doorbell rang and Chuck answered. It was a neighbor. Word was starting to slip out and she wanted to offer her prayers and support. Chuck assured her they would be shared and the neighbor left. 

Beth had managed to regain her composure. John approached Monica, who was busying herself with the items on the table. 

"Why ritualistic?" 

Monica looked up at him. "The field. Often, rituals occur in fields or large, open areas that will allow for a group to gather." 

"But, there isn*t anything in the photo to indicate that. No makeshift altar, no circle of stones." John*s voice was low to prevent Beth from hearing, but Monica also noticed a change in the tone. It was more professional. More detached. 

"Has your wife eaten?" Monica replaced the photo she had been looking at and tried to focus on John as a father and Beth as a mother. "I can run and get something or send one of the guys." 

"No, she won*t eat anything. Can*t keep anything down." John ran a hand through his hair and looked at Beth as he talked. "Luke is our miracle baby." Monica noticed an emphasis on *is*. "It took us awhile to get pregnant. And then, there were complications along the way. But he was born healthy with soft blonde hair and big blue eyes." He had returned to father-mode. "I can*t begin to imagine how she is feeling. We both have dealt with stuff like this because of work. But you really don*t expect it to happen to you." 

The look in his eyes caused Monica*s eyes to fill with tears. "We*re going to do the best we can." She spoke softly and added, "I can*t offer more than that." 

"I know." He watched Beth silently walk to their bedroom, come out with a couple of boxes and bags, and retreat into Luke*s bedroom. 

Nothing new was going to come in while Randy and Chuck were away from the department, so they left with Monica after retracing the morning*s events again. Beth had taken a sleeping pill after they had left and was quiet as John peered into their darkened bedroom. The night would be as long as the day. He sat at the kitchen table not seeing what he was looking at and lost in the last moments he had seen his son. A promise to play catch. That is what they would have been doing. Just John and Luke, because playing ball was Daddy*s job. 

Detective Doggett. John. Daddy. 

He wanted to be called "Daddy". He wanted to tuck his son into bed. He wanted...he needed to hold his son, to smell the shampoo in his hair after he had taken a bath. God, how this was killing him. 

 

 

August 13, 1997 

The alarm clock went off as scheduled. John swiftly made his way from the dining room to the bedroom merely a few feet away. He silently thanked God that Beth seemed undisturbed by the noise. The clock read 5:02 am in bright red digits. 5:02 am, twenty-four hours earlier he had awaken refreshed. It had now been twenty hours since the call. Twenty hours since his blessed life had been abruptly put on hold. Over twenty hours since his son had been safely in his arms. 

He bent to unplug the alarm clock. The red numbers had seemed to glare at him tauntingly. It angered him that time could continue. It should not. It should stop and wait for Luke. 

As he stood, he happened to glance at the bed. Beth*s eyes were open and she was watching him. Before John could ask how long she had been awake, he noticed the pillow she was laying on. It was soaked by the stream of tears coming from her eyes. 

John said nothing as he climbed into bed beside her. He folded his arms around her and she moved closer to him, her arms encircling his waist and her head resting in the crook of his arm and against his chest. John*s throat constricted, not allowing him to speak. There was nothing that could be said. They both knew from professional experience what could be the likely outcome in a case like this. They both feared the worse. Logically, John knew every passing hour increased the possibility of the worse possible scenario. 

He tightened his hold of Beth as sobs suddenly coursed through her body. He could not do anything to take away her pain and worry and that was killing him. Beth had kept Luke*s Christmas presents in the top of their bedroom closet but last night John had quietly talked to Monica as Beth wrapped each one and placed them on Luke*s bed to greet him when he returned. Tears now fell from his eyes onto Beth*s hair. He brushed them aside and kissed the top of her head. 

How could they live through this? Could life have any meaning if the worse scenario played out? And, what was worse? The knowing or the not knowing?

************************** 

The phone rang. 

One of the local television stations wanted to speak with them. The community wanted to see the parents. John hung up without answering the request. How the hell could someone ask something like that? With the task force, he had always had a policy where the media took a hands-off approach when dealing with the parents. Now, he hoped Randy and Chuck would do the same for them. 

Another ring, only this time it was from his cell phone. 

"Yeah," he answered with one hand on Beth as the other held tight to the phone. 

"Detective Doggett, this is Monica Reyes. I hope I didn*t wake you." The voice on the other end sounded more concerned than when they had first spoken. 

"No, we*re both awake." He looked down at Beth, who was still holding tightly to him although the sobs had quieted. 

"I*ve put out a request to all media outlets that they stay away from your house and from your son*s school." 

"Thank you." 

"Also," a sigh filled John*s ear, "I wanted to let you know that we cleared Central Park and we have a description that came in fifteen minutes ago. A couple of teachers put it together. They said this guy had been hanging around for a couple of days but they noticed he wasn*t there yesterday morning. Randy and Chuck are sending out sketches to all departments around the city. I think this may be our best lead yet." 

"Meanwhile, my son is still missing while you follow a lead that*ll turn out to look like half the guys in the state." John snapped back and ended the call. 

"Is there really a lead?" Beth asked quietly. John knew she was looking for any glimmer of hope to hold onto. 

"Yeah, honey," he said as he rubbed her back, "there might be." 

Beth left the bed and pulled an envelope from the night stand drawer. "I hadn*t sent these out yet." She handed a set of pictures to John. "Luke brought them home on Monday. I forgot to show them to you." 

John carefully examined them. One photo of various sizes. Luke*s school portrait - innocence forever captured on that powder blue background that seems to be the same background used in every school picture. Luke*s smile. John would never forget the first time he had seen it come across his son*s face. Those eyes - wide, beautiful duplicates of his father*s. 

"Thanks..." he began weakly as he looked up but stopped when he noticed Beth had left the room. 

John left the bedroom to find her sitting at the kitchen table, three plates infront of her. He took a seat across from her. 

"I was going to make breakfast..." Beth trailed off. 

"Don*t worry about it." John responded, although it was unnecessary. 

"I didn*t call my mother."

This caught John*s attention. "What?" 

"Mom doesn*t even know." Beth was staring at Luke*s pictures hanging on the wall. "She warned me that our careers would be dangerous-" 

"Don*t, Beth." John firmly grasped her hand. "We aren*t responsible for any of this. Your job, my job - they have nothing to do with Luke. Whoever did this-" 

"Whoever did this sent the photo to your task force!" Beth returned John*s grip as she spoke. "The Child Abduction Task Force, John! How can this be a coincidence?" 

He did not answer. All night he had considered that connection. It had been almost too much for him to know that he could be indirectly responsible for his son*s abduction. 

Their phone rang again. Neither of them moved to answer, instead letting the caller leave a message. 

"John, it*s Randy." Randy*s hurried voice came across quickly. "I know you*re there *cause you just hung up on Agent Reyes. I*m hanging up and calling back in a few seconds. You*d better pick up!" 

Both John and Beth were up and by the phone the second it rang. 

"What have you got?" John*s voice mimicked Randy*s tone from earlier. Beth slipped her hand in his as she leaned against his shoulder. 

"I got the sketch here that Reyes told you about." John could hear paper rustling as Randy spoke. "Chuck scanned it into the system and got an alert. John, you remember a guy named Bob Harvey?" 

"That guy from Queens? Yeah, I think I had a couple of guys from the squad check him out thinking he was the guy hanging around that daycare." 

"If you match the sketch to Harvey*s picture, the resemblance is uncanny." Randy paused, "Chuck*s bringing him in for questioning. I thought you would want to know." 

John gave his wife*s hand a squeeze. "Give me fifteen minutes." He hung up and began grabbing papers together. "Randy and Chuck have a lead from a sketch by two teachers from Luke*s school." 

"He has priors?" Beth was grabbing a jacket from the hall closet. 

"No, but he was a suspect earlier." John turned to Beth and saw that she was preparing to accompany him. "No, Beth. If this guy has anything to do with it, I don*t want you there to hear anything."

"Don*t be stupid. You*re not leaving me here alone. I*d go crazy not knowing what*s happening." 

Both were tediously walking the line between professionalism and parenting. Within a matter of hours, their lives had been irrevocably changed. No argument could undo that fact, regardless of the outcome. 

Hand in hand, John and Beth Doggett left the security of memories to face reality and, possibly, the most hated man either would ever know.

************************** 

Six hours later the world had continued without stopping. Wall Street was ablaze with hurried buying and selling while panhandlers still begged on street corners. And, the FBI*s Special Agent assigned to the Luke Doggett abduction case was reluctantly confirming the release of Bob Harvey. 

"Mrs. Doggett, we have nothing." 

John watched from the doorway as Monica slowly explained why Bob Harvey could not be held. But, he turned quickly as a hand was placed on his shoulder. 

"Hey, Chuck and a couple of guys are running to get some lunch. You want anything?" 

John shook his head and focused his attention from Randy back to Beth. 

"Okay. Um...Deloris from Beth*s office called here and said Margie*s been trying to get a hold of you two but no one ever answers at home." 

Margie. Beth*s mother. Oh God. John sighed to himself. Margie would become hysterical when she heard about Luke and Beth did not need to be exposed to that. "Thanks, Randy. I*ll call her later." 

Around him phones were ringing incessantly. In a large conference room three doors down from where he was standing, there was a large canvas board covered with the pictures of missing children his task force had yet to recover. Each one loved by people trusted to know their favorite bedtime story and how many glasses of water or kisses on the forehead would be necessary before they finally drifted to sleep. Each child seemingly drawn into a void that left only their portrait captioned with the word *MISSING* as a haunting reminder of life*s cruelty. 

Monica quietly approached with concern on her face.  

"You only promised to do what you can." John tried to assure her she was not to blame for Harvey*s release. "You can*t do the impossible, Agent Reyes." 

The pain in Beth*s eyes had been such an overwhelming experience that Monica had to leave the room. "Detective Doggett, the FBI should have sent someone with more experience-" 

"I think lack of experience is what keeps you going. You*re willing to pull out all the stops because you*ve yet to know what desperation in a cold case feels like." 

 

Monica shook her head in disbelief. "You can*t possibly believe that. Luke has been missing for just over a day. This case is *not* cold!" 

A weak smile passed John*s lips as he recalled his first child abduction case. "Go get somethin* to eat, Reyes."

************************** 

With each passing hour, Beth became less responsive and John*s panic turned into disbelief. Their best and only lead had been questioned and released. Monica had accompanied them back home presumably to keep watch over Beth. However, she had come to realize the necessity of knowing this family as more than just the parents of a missing child. 

"Hope it*s strong enough." Monica sat cups of coffee in front of the two parents. "Cream or sugar?" 

"No, we both drink it black." John addressed Monica but carefully watched Beth wrap her hands around the cup. "Honey? You want anything else?" He gently rubbed her back and, seemingly, brought life back into her. 

"Thank you, Agent Reyes." Beth spoke softly as she placed the cup back on the table and ignored John*s question. "Thank you for taking the time to help us." 

Monica smiled across the table. "If I could do anything else, God knows I would, Beth. I can*t wait to meet Luke. He*s such a beautiful child." 

John listened with a lump in his throat. Monica was trying to keep up the faith, but he knew that only evil was involved in the abduction of a child - something he hadn*t let himself believe until now. There was a certain feeling that had settled over the house. Cold, constricted, dark, empty - much like his imaginings of Hell. He could not blame Beth for not wanting to talk or consider the possibilities. He did not even want to be alive. 

"Luke looks like John." Beth glanced at him then quickly turned her head as if it physically traumatized her to look at him. "We*ll get him back." 

Was it a question or a statement? Neither John or Monica was sure, but he responded by pulling Beth close to him and kissing her cheek, which was wet with tears, as Monica laid her head in her hands and quietly cried. 

 

 

August 14, 1997 

We live in a world where darkness always precedes dawn. In our world, bad things happen to good people. We cannot change that. Glimmers of hope spur us on as we continue unending journeys to reach untouchable truths. In this world of darkness before dawn and truths out of our reach, innocence is lost. Not just for children, but for those of us who have journeyed from childhood and into the dangers of reality. Innocence is shattered in a world such as ours. And, we end our lives battle-scarred and fatigued wondering if the small victories are worth the loss and tragedy that always maintains a place in our hearts.

************************** 

Desperation had set in as well as exhaustion. Five people who*s lives were inexplicably changed 48 hours earlier were approaching the edge. 

Randy, Chuck, and the remaining task force members had broken into shifts so that teams were searching around the clock. Monica had maintained vigil in the living room of the house in Long Island. John and Beth had spent the night in Luke*s room, clinging to one another as the baseball clock on Luke*s dresser ticked off minutes without acknowledging its owner*s absence. 

At 8am, with sunlight streaming through the windows, Monica knocked softly on the bedroom door and entered slowly. "I wanted you to know that I*m going down to the station. There are a couple of questions I wanted to discuss with Randy. I*ll call you if we get anything." 

John nodded in her direction. Beth followed Monica to the door. "I haven*t been out there looking, Agent Reyes." 

"You*re doing what you should be, Mrs. Doggett." Monica squeezed Beth*s hand, "You need to be here to greet Luke when he comes home." Her tone of voice was optimistic, but her eyes showed the fear that filled her heart. She turned away and headed for the car before her optimism cracked. 

"Beth, you need to eat. You*ve had nothin* for two days." Gently, John pulled her to the couch. "Orange juice and toast, that should be okay for now." He went about preparing and talking, "Your mother called Deloris yesterday. I was thinkin* maybe we should call her today-" 

A loud crash caused him to drop everything and whirl around. 

A shattered crystal vase lay at Beth*s feet as she screamed. "My God! Is it wrong to want everything to stop?" 

John moved quickly to keep the glass from cutting her. "It*s not wrong. Everything should stop, Beth, but it won*t no matter how hard we try. I need to clean this up, okay?" He looked up to reassure her. A hand slammed across his face leaving sharp needles of pain. 

"Our son is gone and you are worried about cleaning up glass?!" Beth*s high scream filled the house. John stopped what he was doing and dropped to the couch. "Randy, Chuck, Monica Reyes - they will all have lives after this is over. And what happens if they don*t get Luke back? We*re supposed to continue? Whoever took him stopped my life two days ago. I don*t want to continue, John!" Screams turned into choking sobs. Beth crumbled to the carpet. 

For a split second, John caught a glimpse of the future without his son. Fear shattered his strength. He found himself falling next to his wife. The evil that had taken his son had filtered into Beth and himself, causing neither to clearly see the other. Until now, he had failed to see his wife as a mother who had no idea where the life she had brought into this world was spending this moment. 

"I love you so much." John cried into her ear. Amongst the stinging still on his face and the glass scattered around them, Beth crawled into John*s lap. He held her tightly, tight enough to feel her heart pounding next to his. A third heartbeat resonated in their ears.

************************** 

Monica could hear a heartbeat pounding in her head. She knew enough to understand this was not a headache from stress. The heartbeat raced faster as her eyes moved across the picture of Luke Doggett, now captioned with *MISSING*. This had happened once before and she knew the phenomenon held only one meaning. The end was nearing. 

"Randy, have we checked the Battery Park area?" She approached Randy*s desk with her coat on. 

"Well, yeah, but we can always check again. Nothin* much to go on, Agent Reyes. Why?" 

"Just a hunch. I want to get out there quickly, so if we could..." Monica headed towards the exit. Randy grabbed his jacket, motioned to Chuck, and the three left for the park.

************************** 

"Slow down!" Randy yelled as he and Chuck jumped from their car to follow Monica to a place she did not want to find. 

Monica vomited instantly as the heartbeat faded in her head. Although she had known what would be found, there had been hope that this hunch would be wrong. 

"Oh, no. No, no, NO!" Chuck shouted violently while Randy pulled out his cell phone to make the call, but stopped in mid-stream when Monica grabbed his arm. 

"NO! They deserve to be the first, not the rest of the city!" 

Randy put his hands on her shoulders to keep her still. "We can*t risk someone else stumbling upon this, Agent Reyes. I need to secure the area. The Doggetts are my best friends. They*ll know first, but I have to protect the scene and keep the media out. I still have to follow procedure." 

Monica nodded. "You*ll let me come with you?" 

"We couldn*t do it any other way. You promised to find him. You didn*t break that promise, you didn*t fail, and don*t ever think you did. You helped us give them some closure. So many families never get that." 

The honesty in Randy*s eyes flooded Monica*s soul with a sudden calm that would stay with her for days. "Don*t let them bring the coroner out yet. They shouldn*t see that." 

"We need to tell them, Agent Reyes. Chuck will drive." They headed towards the car and Monica headed towards a destiny she could not have imagined.

************************** 

The hours had ticked away. 

John and Beth held each other as loss invaded their souls. Both had instinctively known. The minute that vase shattered, so had their lives and all that had once been right with the world faded into nothingness. 

A car stopped in front of the house. 

John stood up and reached for Beth*s hand. Footsteps approached their door. Muttering could be heard before the knock. 

John*s heart was beating fast. Beth*s hand was cold and clammy in his. They walked to the door. Everything seemed to be in slow motion. Randy, Chuck, and Monica lowered their eyes to the ground. 

"John." Randy stepped forward. John heard his name through a tunnel. "We found him." John*s head pounded. A gasp came from Beth as she stood behind him. Monica rushed forward and caught her before she could hit the hard cement porch. 

"I*m sorry, John." Randy and Chuck removed their hats. John Doggett stood still.  

The world had finally stopped.