"Hello, Ryan. I'm Detective Barker, and this is Detective Betts, whom I'm sure you remember."

Ryan blinked slowly, his bruised and abused face stinging with every movement. He felt slightly intimidated at the moment, and it seemed like Detective Barker was very quick to catch onto that. "You've got nothing to be afraid of, Ryan," he spoke softly, settling himself at the foot of Ryan's hospital bed.

Ryan bit back a scowl, letting a pained smile grace his face instead. "The last detective that said that to me tried to kill me," he spoke bitterly, "so forgive me for being a little apprehensive."

Detective Barker nodded slightly, shifting to face Betts as he walked over to the bedside chair. "We've contacted your mother," he spoke gently, "and she's on her way here. We'd like to ask you a few questions before she arrives, if that's alright with you."

Ryan paused for a moment. It's been three days since he had been found in the basement of Brendon Urie's home, so they've given him time and room to breathe, but actually talking about everything he'd experienced was going to be much more difficult than he perceived in the beginning. He knew he'd have to though, which is probably the only that that prompted him to open his mouth.

"The feeling was almost exactly like the reality of it," he choked out, voice low and defeated. "It literally felt like I was sitting at the bottom of a pitch black room, and no one knew that I was even there. Every single day that I opened my eyes and was still there, a little bit more hope escaped me." He took a deep breath as the tears that he didn't know he'd been gathering spilled over his bottom lashes. "Before he left the basement the last time, he said he'd never intended to hurt me. He said that a lot, actually, and yet--" He cut himself off and motioned to himself hooked up to the IVs and the bruises and cuts on his cheeks and arms. "He also said 'It'll all be over soon.' I thought he was going to come back and kill me and I was just.. waiting for it."

Detective Barker looked at Ryan with sympathetic eyes as Betts paced around the room and sighed, endlessly frustrated. He knew it was right to trust his intuition and keep tracking Brendon, but he should've pushed it harder. He should've persuaded Captain Walker to raid Brendon's house sooner, maybe they would've even caught him. Now he was gone; vanished right into thin air and there were no leads on where he could be. He was smart, that's for sure. No credit card trail, he smashed his cellphone into pieces before discarding it in the garbage outside of his house, and he disabled the GPS in his car.

He was basically untraceable.

"We know it's a tough subject, Ryan," Barker continued, "but we need to ask you about Ms. Frangipane's death. You informed to Lieutenant Hurley that you watched Brendon kill her."

Ryan's jaw tightened and more tears spilled from over his bottom lashes and he sighed heavily, letting out a humorless laugh. "Yeah," he spoke even softer, his face contorting in pain. "I watched it. It-It was like a horror movie I couldn't turn off, or a nightmare that I couldn't wake up from. But it was also like every time someone sees something tragic happening - I just.. I couldn't look away. I watched him kill my best friend and as far as what he did with her - her body, I don't know. He blindfolded me so I couldn't see anything. Called it an 'act of kindness.'"

Betts felt his jaw tighten as well, anger coursing through him at the idea of Brendon Urie even having the audacity to treat Ryan like an actual human after everything he'd done to him. Just then, his cellphone started ringing and he pulled it from his pocket and placed it against his ear. After sharing a couple of sentences with his captain, he hung up his phone and turned to Ryan. "Your mother has just arrived," he spoke gently, watching Ryan visibly relax, "she'll be here in a just a moment."

The two detectives gathered at the foot of Ryan's bed, bidding Ryan a goodbye before starting to walk to the door. Before they fully exited, Betts stopped shortly, turning back to the young male once more. "What Brendon did to you, Ryan," he started softly, gaining Ryan's full attention, "it wasn't your fault. However much you're probably telling yourself that you deserved it or anything like that, don't. Brendon is sick - very sick. When we find him, we'll make sure he's never able to do this to anyone ever again."

More tears spilled form Ryan's eyes as he sent an appreciative smile at the detectives, muttering a small, genuine 'thank you.' Just as the two detectives left the doorway, a woman - who they assumed was Ryan's mother - ran past them and straight into the room. Betts and Barker watched the exchange between Ryan and his mother, feeling emotional themselves at the cries and at the way Ryan's mother's face was flooded with relief that her baby was alive.

Sadly, that is something the other victim's families wouldn't get to experience.

As if reading Betts' mind, Barker put a hand on his shoulder and started leading them down the hallway. "We can't save 'em all, man," he spoke sympathetically, squeezing his shoulder softly.

Betts nodded and sighed gently as he pushed the button on the elevator and awaited for the car to arrive. "He couldn't have just disappeared, Travis," he says adamantly. "And I'm not gonna rest until we find him."

Barker nodded gently, stepping inside the car with Betts as it opened for them. "None of us are," he spoke back to him. "We're going to find him. No settling for anything less."

* * *

Meanwhile, Brendon Urie was over 1,700 miles away from those looking for him, pulling into a city by the name of Fort Collins, Colorado. He'd taken every bit of cash in his bank out and closed his account days before he left, making sure that there'd be virtually no way for anyone to track him down. Driving up to the first hotel he found, he pulled into the parking lot and walked inside to the front desk, paying for a room and receiving his key. He went back to his car once more, grabbing his suitcase and going up to his room.

He let his mind travel back to his honey-eyed boy that he left in his basement. The detectives and the police force had to have found him by now, no doubt about it. He didn't kill Ryan because how could he after all of this? He'd already put him through hell, keeping him alive only to cause him pain and anguish. Maybe he should've put the younger male out of his misery before he left, but it would've hurt him too much. He hadn't wanted to hurt him to begin with, and he wasn't going to make it even worse.

Lying down on the pressed sheets, his eyelids suddenly felt heavier than one hundred pounds of lead and he let his eyes slipped closed as he imagined this new start for himself. A new life, a new name, a new list of prospects just laid out in front of him.

And a whole new set of men to love and set free.