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With a final wave goodbye to Dana and Jackie, Terry turned the street corner and made toward home. It had been almost two hours since school let out for the day, and the three of them had spent the whole time walking to their favorite convenience store, purchasing a couple snacks at said convenience store, then sitting around on the bench outside the talking and stuff. It had been fun. Dana was his best friend and always a slam to talk with. Jackie was pretty schway, too, all things considered. From what Terry could tell, the two of them had crushes on each other and were both being super shy about it, so he may or may not have spent a good portion of the time dropping suggestions to both parties on how they could make a move. Jackie had squirmed and Dana had punched him, so he considered his teasing a major success. Now though, with his friends having to leave, he could no longer put off going home; something that he tried to put off as much as possible these days.
Eomma and appa’s fights had been getting worse recently, so Terry had devised a few methods to minimize his time around them. After school he would either attend a club, tag along with friends, camp out in the library or hang around the convenience store. It was a bit of a pain, but it was still better than having to hide out in his room when his parents decided to really go at it. It wasn’t always full-blown yelling. Sometimes it was snide comments and frosty attitudes. Bad moods that would just feed on each other until it came to a head and they started yelling about work hours or listening skills or who left the wet laundry in the washing machine again. It hadn’t always been like this. They used to get along. It was becoming harder and harder to remember those times, though. He felt bad for Matt, who was only three and couldn’t get away at all, but at the same time Terry found he just didn’t have the energy to help him, which was just pathetic. Matt adored him, and he adored Matt in turn, but he was such a dreg that he couldn’t even be there when his baby brother needed him most. The twip didn’t deserve to be stuck in the middle of their parent’s arguments, but he probably was every day because Terry took every chance he got to run off. At least eomma and appa tended to ignore each other until after dinner…
Wrapped up in his unhappy thoughts, Terry continued on the familiar path home alone. Yes this was Gotham, but even Gotham wasn’t that bad. He knew how to handle himself- he was mid-way through seventh grade now, after all, and he wasn’t stupid. Don’t interact with strangers, stick to populated areas and walk with a purpose. Head held high, shoulders back and quick strides coupled with bored expression was the key to making good time through city crowds. He passed the usual shops, jaywalked across the usual streets and skipped the usual stair steps. It was all things he had seen a hundred times before. He took out his phone to check his texts, knowing the street was just filled with people going about their day like they always did. Unless there was something world-shakingly wrong, Gothamites could always be counted on to mind their own business.
Which is why his heart rate spiked when a hand slapped itself over his mouth from behind.
The hand was big. The body it belonged to was even bigger. He pushed but they wrapped a strong arm around his chest and dragged him back, knocking his phone out of his hand. He tried to scream or bite or something but they shifted their hand to clamp his jaw shut. As they muscled him into a small space between two buildings, Terry’s gaze darted around the residential street and found it completely empty. If his heart wasn’t beating so rapidly right now it would’ve sank.
Then he was spun around to face his attacker. They were middle-aged, tall, white and masculine, but what stuck out most to Terry was the unmistakable scent of heavy alcohol on their breath and blipped out look in their eyes. As if he needed any more proof that this person wasn’t all here, they started rambling as soon as they made eye contact.
“Not blue. Not blue at all. We- we messed it up. It was supposed to be blue.”
Their grip on his shoulder loosened for a second and he tried to pull away, but they quickly caught hold again. This time squeezing tight enough to hurt.
“There has to be a catalyst. The plan to… we had to plan. They said no but- but there has to be a bat. We need a bat. There has to be a catalyst.”
Terry tried to pull their arm off him but they shoved him against the wall in response. His backpack was the only thing preventing him from slamming his head.
“Doesn’t matter. We have to plan. Have to have a catalyst. You will… it’s you. It has to be you.”
By now tears were running down his cheeks and over the hand still clamping his mouth shut. Everything this person said was completely incoherent and he had no clue what they wanted. He was trying not to panic, trying to think of something that would help him get away , but now his knees were shaking so bad he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get very far.
Then his captor swayed. Hard. Whatever they had in their system was clearly taking full effect, because they nearly toppled to the ground and took him with them. It gave him an idea. Bracing a foot against the wall, he poured all his strength into pushing. Throwing all his weight in their direction and forcing them to counter, he waited until they started to push back before he dropped . The sudden lack in resistance sent them stumbling forward, but Terry was already ducking under their arms and slipping away. They made a wild grab and managed to catch the edge of his backpack, but he twisted his arms out of the straps and broke into a dead sprint- ignoring the drunken screams for him to stop. Turns out he could run even with shaking knees.
He had only put about fifteen feet between him and his attacker before he heard the person’s footsteps behind him. They were getting closer. His lungs burned as he pushed himself harder. He knew he wouldn’t be able to make it home before he was caught- where else could he go? There were nothing but unfamiliar apartment buildings on this block and the next.
There was an entrance to an underground parking garage coming up to his left. Deciding that his best chance of escaping was to lose them, he dashed down the slope and hoped there was another exit. The garage was cold, made of gray concrete and illuminated by harsh white light. There were doors at both ends. He ran to the far one and yanked it open, cursing the fact that the chamber amplified every sound. It was heavy and he could hear their thudding steps follow him down the ramp. He took two stair steps at a time and stumbled out the next door onto the street. He had gone down, and now he was a street over and two levels below where they had grabbed him. He turned left and started running but he could already feel his body slowing. He needed a place to hide, soon . He took another left, then a right, then down a level, then a left, on and on until he didn’t recognize a thing about the street around him. He slumped against an alley wall to catch his breath for a moment. No one he had passed had given him a second look. Nothing strange about a kid running like the devil’s on his tail in Gotham, after all.
Glancing around the dingy alleyway he took note of the lack of cameras, dumpster and the door to his right. He would probably get shucked for trespassing, but he tried the door anyway. It was locked. Next option was the dumpster. Hiding behind it was too easy, the space under it was too small, but maybe…
Just then there was a shout somewhere out on the street that sounded too close to their voice, and his heart lept back into his throat. Terry hadn’t seen his pursuer the last time he had glanced back, but that didn’t mean they weren’t still on his trail. Quickly, he scrambled over the edge of the dumpster and ducked down, shifting the bags around to make room in the far corner, where he curled himself up and repositioned the bags to block an outsider’s view. The whole thing was smelly, sticky and cold, but when he heard footsteps halt at the entrance of the alley, he couldn’t care less. Whoever it was shifted and muttered something he couldn’t catch. Then they came closer, shoes scuffing the pavement as they walked up to the dumpster and stopped. Terry held his breath, hoping- praying that they didn’t think to look inside. There was a groove in the dumpster wall that was digging into his shoulder. He wanted to relieve the pain, but he didn’t. There was a gap in the cover of trashbags he had over him. He wanted to fix it, but he didn’t. Something was soaking through his shoe. He wanted to shift it, but he didn’t. The slightest move right now could be the difference between making it home tonight and never at all.
They mumbled something and took a couple steps further into the alley, presumably to check around the sides of the dumpster. Then a loud clang reverberated around Terry that startled him so bad he nearly screamed. He heard the voice curse, and he realized the person must have accidentally knocked into the dumpster. Then they shuffled back out of the alleyway, leaving him alone with a painfully beating heart and memory of ringing metal.
He sat there for what must have been hours. The winter chill seeped through his jacket and the cramped position caused him pain, but he didn’t dare move until long after the light filtering through the gaps of his cover faded.
When he did crawl out, his toes, fingers and face were completely numb from the cold. His leg tingled sharply as it woke, so he hid behind the dumpster while waiting out the pain. He then stumbled to the edge of the alley and scanned the empty street. Seeing no signs of potential kidnappers, he stepped out onto the sidewalk and turned left, knowing he would find something familiar eventually. When he did make it to a populated street, he tried to emulate his typical posture of head held high, shoulders back and quick strides, but found the urge to hunch in on himself too strong. His head swiveled constantly as he kept an eye out, trying to remain vigilant through the exhausted haze that had fallen over his mind, and he didn’t stop until he practically collapsed in the entryway at home- where the most powerful wave of pure relief he had ever felt in his life washed over him when he heard his dad’s concerned voice.
--
Mary and Warren McGinnis knew that Carver Middle School let out at three-fifty pm. They knew that Terry sometimes liked to stay for dance club or hang out with friends, so they weren’t too worried when he wasn’t home by five. At five-fifty, Warren sent a text asking Terry where he was. When he got no reply by five fifty-seven, he called Terry’s phone. There was no answer. He tried again a minute later, then again and again, but still there was nothing. Concerned, he picked up Matt from where they had been playing in the boy’s room and went downstairs to find Mary.
“Have you heard from Terry?” he asked when he’d found her in the kitchen.
She glanced up from the vegetables she was cutting.
“No. Isn’t today dance club?”
“That’s tomorrow,” he replied, working to keep the annoyance out of his voice. It’s not like Terry had been going to dance club every Thursday for the past four months, or anything. “I’ve texted him and called him four times, but he hasn’t answered. Could you try?”
She pulled out her phone and hit dial. Turning on speaker and setting it on the counter so she could continue cutting while the sound of ringing filled the kitchen.
“I’ll call the school and ask them.” said Warren, settling down in the living room where Matty could play with the toys there while he made the call.
The school hadn’t seen him since the end of fifth period and none of his friend’s parents had him either. Mr. Tan told him Dana said they had hung out after school, but had parted ways around five-fifteen. He thanked the man and hung up with a sigh. It had been forty-five minutes since anyone had last seen Terry, and it only took him fifteen minutes to walk from school to the house. It could be nothing, but if so, why hadn’t Terry answered any of their messages? Maybe his phone had died? But if that was the case, surely he would have come straight home to charge it. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be out and about without a way to contact him- and if his phone did die, he knew to borrow one and call to tell them. How long should they wait before contacting the authorities about this?
He stood and popped his head back in the kitchen for a moment.
“Any luck?” he asked Mary. She shook her head.
“Dequan says he was hanging out with Dana, but left at about five-fifteen.”
“Hm. I’ll post on the neighborhood board.”
“Okay.” he said. He should go back to sit with Matt. He knew she wouldn’t accept his help with dinner, and the only reason they even still ate together was for the boys, but he wanted… She shot a guarded look at his lingering presence in the doorway, and he was reminded of the rocky trajectory all their conversations seemed to take, lately.
“If he’s not back in another ten minutes, why don’t you go out and look for him? I’ll call up a few more people, if that’s the case and join you as soon as dinner’s done.” she said.
“Yeah… Yeah, okay.” he said before shuffling back over to accept a pony toy from Matt. The toddler then launched into a demonstration on how to properly brush its hair, but Warren’s thoughts were far from rainbow ponies and miniature hairbrushes.
They would report this to the police if they found nothing in their search, but what were the chances of the police caring about a missing Korean kid from Gotham’s Chinatown? Hundreds of kids in Gotham went missing every year- would Terry become one of them? He hoped not. God, he hoped his baby was alright.
Matt tugged on his sleeve and gave him a blue pony, asking him to braid its hair. Warren did, tying it off with a little rubber hair tie, handing it back to his youngest, who held it atop the first pony because he felt that doubled their speed.
At the ten-minute mark, Mary came to take Matt, telling Warren to grab his jacket and go meet the neighbors outside who had volunteered to help. He gave his son a kiss on the forehead and waved in response to the boy’s call of “Annyeong” before heading out the door and into the cold evening air.
The golden rays of the setting sun were usually something he found beautiful, but now it only struck him as a reminder that it was almost dark and they still hadn’t heard from Terry.
Maybe this was an overreaction. Maybe Terry’s phone had died and he was so busy playing he hadn’t noticed. Maybe the boy would turn up the moment Warren was out of sight, walk into the house and wonder what the fuss was about while Mary chewed him out and called off the search. Maybe he was okay.
Maybe he wasn’t.
Warren had brought a flashlight, hoping this would be over by the time he would need it, but it had been over three hours now and there was still no sign of him. Terry wasn’t in any of his usual spots, nor on the route home from those locations- no one they asked had seen him, and he hadn’t shown up at the house, either. Eventually, Mary called to say she had reported him missing. Knowing he was probably at his wit’s end, she also told Warren to come back and switch places with her. Eat some dinner and watch over Matt while she took his place in the search. He wanted to dispute her suggestion (like he usually did these days). Wanted to argue that this was far more important, but he knew that he would be no good to Terry if he was dead on his feet. Plus, it was too cold and hectic to bring a toddler out here, so he acquiesced and drove back home.
Once he was situated in the kitchen with a bowl of ox bone soup, Matty in his highchair, and a laptop from which he was getting occasional updates, he knew a break had been the right idea. His feet, which he propped up on the chair across from him, were aching all over. His fingers and nose were numb from the cold. He had hunger pains and was suffering from dehydration, not to mention the gnawing worry that had been growing every minute since he realized Terry was gone. When he had switched off with Mary, she had been all business while he had felt like falling apart at the seams. Her ability to handle pressure had always been something he admired about her, even if lately that intensity had led to outbursts he had been on the receiving end of more often than not.
A glance at the clock revealed that it was nine-o-seven, now. Terry had last been seen at five-fifteen. That thought gave him enough anxiety to kill his appetite, but he kept eating anyway. He had to get enough energy to get back out there. Every moment without his son was a moment anything could be happening. He tried not to envision all the terrible fates that could have befallen his eldest by now, but his imagination had always been too active for his own good. It was almost too much for his stomach, but he forced himself to swallow back the rising bile. He needed these calories if he was going to spend the rest of the night out.
Matt was still playing with the same ponies from earlier, seemingly content with entertaining himself until he stopped, looked Warren directly in the eye and asked, “Appa, where’s hyeong?”
Warren opened his mouth to wave the question away, but his heart squeezed painfully and he knew he couldn’t lie.
“I don’t know, Matty.”
The toddler turned to study his rainbow pony with a troubled expression.
“When will he be back?”
“I… I don’t know, Matty.”
Matt picked up the blue pony and stood it up next to the rainbow one.
“… I want him to play with me.”
Warren sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
“I’m sure he wants to play with you, sweetheart.”
Matt went back to trying to stack the ponies. For enhanced speed, Warren recalled.
Another thirty minutes later saw him putting Matt to bed. It was already past the boy’s bedtime- Mary should have put him to bed hours ago, but for once Warren couldn’t fault her. It was as he was sitting back down to resume monitoring that he heard the front door open and close.
“Mary?” he called, concerned. “Are you back already?”
When there was no reply he stood and made for the entryway, hope rising in his chest.
“Terry? Terry, baby, is that you?” he asked.
“...Appa?” said a quiet, shaky voice in response as he rounded the corner.
And there he was.
“ Terry .” Warren breathed out before crossing the distance from the hall to the door in record time, dropping to his knees beside his son (his baby boy) who was slumped in a heap in front of the door and wrapping him in a desperate hug.
“ Appa .” whimpered Terry, voice muffled against Warren’s chest, sounding even smaller and more broken than before as he returned the hug, wrapping his arms as tight as he could around his father’s middle.
Distantly, he realized he should call Mary back, but right now he was solely focused on the loudly sobbing boy in his arms. His boy. His baby boy who was currently crying like he hadn’t in years, covered in all sorts of grime and foul-smelling substances. Oh, what had happened?
“Terry?” he said after the sobs had finally died down into choked gasps and he had gotten his own tears under control. “Baby, are you hurt?”
Terry shook his head ‘no’.
“Okay. I’m going to move you to the couch and then I’m going to call eomma. Is that okay with you?”
Terry nodded, so Warren shifted around until he could properly lift his son. It was a bit difficult with how big the elven year old was, but he managed until he got them both to the couch and pulled his phone out of his pocket to call Mary.
She answered on the fourth ring with a tired, “Warren?”
“I found him.” he said, cutting right to the chase.
“What?!” she cried, infinitely more alert. “He’s there? He’s with you?”
Terry shifted in his appa’s hold to bring the phone down to his level.
“Hi, eomma.” he said.
“Terry! Oh, heol- honey are you okay?”
“Mmhm.”
“Okay. Okay. I’m gonna be right there, okay? I was out looking for you but I’m coming straight home. Oh, gomawo, I’m so glad you’re okay, baby.”
“Yeah...”
“I’ll be there soon. See you in a second, okay agiya?”
“Okay. Annyeong, eomma.”
“Annyeong, Terry. Saranghae.”
“Saranghae.”
Then she hung up and Terry snuggled back into his lap, where he stayed until Mary bustled into the room with cheeks flushed from the cold and outdoor shoes still on. She teared up when she caught sight of the two of them, running to envelop Terry in a hug when the boy raised his head and reached for her.
Terry’s wails started afresh when Mary pulled him down off the couch and into her lap, not minding in the slightest the strain of the position. Warren slid to the ground next to them and took them both into his hold, grateful beyond belief that his son was alive and here in their arms.
When they asked what had happened, all Terry could stammer out was that someone had tried to grab him and he had hid in a dumpster for hours afterward. The tale sent a whole new wave of panic coursing through Warren’s system, but he gave Terry’s hand a squeeze (that was eagerly reciprocated) to remind himself that his son was here with them now, and that’s what mattered.
When their baby’s cries were reduced to whimpers and he finally relaxed into the soothing circles being rubbed across his back, Mary caught Warren’s eye and mouthed for him to grab his phone. Realizing what she wanted, he spent the next few minutes contacting the authorities to tell them Terry had been found, then reassuring friends and neighbors that the search was over and their son was with them. Then he picked Terry back up and the three of them trooped upstairs, where they spent the next hour putting the boy’s dirty clothes in the laundry, giving him a bath, drying him off, dressing him in clean pajamas, having him brush his teeth, and performing a quick check on Matt before the three of them trekked to the master bedroom- where Warren and Mary also washed up before joining their son in bed, having already decided to put off getting the whole story until tomorrow, when Terry’s grip on them hopefully wouldn’t be as tight and breathing quite as shaken.
Exhaustion was quick to catch up with Terry, who was out only minutes after they had all settled down, but his parents stayed up for hours afterward, neither of them willing to part with their awareness of their son until sleep forced them to.
It was a fitful night of sleep.
--
In the morning, Mary was woken by a small knee digging into her calf as her youngest climbed into bed with them. The poor kid adored Terry (heck, his first word had been “er”, a baby’s best attempt at saying “Ter”) and had been asking about him all of last night. She had tried to be optimistic and say he would be back soon, but Matty could read the room well enough to tell that something was wrong and had gone from happily chattering to completely silent the rest of the time she was there.
Peeking through her eyelashes, she saw him doing his best to be gentle as he wormed his way between her and Terry while clutching Fluffy the stuffed dolphin to his chest. Warmth filled her heart at the sight of both her boys safe and sound asleep beside her in the early morning light. They would have to call in absent from school and work later, but for now it was enough to carefully lay an arm over her babies and drift back into slumber.
When they all finally woke for good, Mary gave both boys big hugs before announcing she was going to go make a full breakfast to start off their four-day family weekend right. That got the kids excited- Terry because he didn’t have to worry about classes, and Matt because he realized this meant he got to spend the whole time with his big brother. They were quick to race down to the kitchen to help while their mother and father shared a look of relief over the fact that Terry seemed to be feeling much better already.
“He’s going to need help for this.” stated Warren, climbing out of bed to open up the blinds.
“We’ll find him some. Maybe the school counselor knows people. Speaking of, could you let the school know we’ll be keeping him home?”
“Sure. Go direct the boys.”
The rest of the day was spent peacefully. The four of them ate breakfast, played games, watched movies and roughhoused. Terry had looked slightly stricken at Matt’s suggestion to go to the park, but Warren was there to gently suggest a different course of action. The boys played with those pony toys Matt had been so attached to last night. Dana called at one point to talk to Terry and the two spent hours chatting away like they normally did. It was nice, but when their eldest had another, quieter, meltdown before bedtime, she and Warren weren’t exactly surprised.
“Oh, honey,” cooed Mary as she kneeled and pulled him into a hug when he started shuffling, “What’s wrong?”
He shrugged, but she knew his first response to emotional questions was to shrug regardless of how confident he was of his answer, so she waited.
Eventually he scrubbed his eyes and quietly admitted “I guess I’m kinda glad that I… you guys never work together anymore. Today’s been nice.”
Mary felt her stomach drop and the cracks that had been forming on her heart this past year deepen. She avoided Warren’s gaze. Had Terry really just said that? Had her baby really confessed he was glad he had almost been kidnapped because it got his parents to stop fighting? Had they really gotten that bad? She had known their behavior couldn’t have been easy on their boys- she felt guilty about it every time they witnessed a fight- but to this extent? He had been staying out most afternoons this school year. She had figured it was a blossoming social thing, but what if there was more? How bad of a mother was she that she didn’t realize Terry had been so upset? If Warren wasn’t- no . No, this is exactly what Ter was talking about. She and her husband weren’t working together and the kids were suffering for it.
She finally looked up to meet Warren’s eye. They silently agreed to talk (a real talk, hopefully) about it later. For now, all they could do was comfort Terry as best they could and put him to bed (his own bed, this time. Though he and Matt insisted on staying together). Then the couple lay down in their own bed, as distant from each other as they had been for months, and fell asleep making lists of all the things they needed to do in order to fix their childrens’ pains.
It occurred to Mary that the real solution might not be Terry’s favorite, but you had to secure your own oxygen mask before you could help others.
She could only hope her boys would forgive them.