Chapter Text
Scamp, surprisingly, hadn’t been in a police station before. You’d think he would’ve, what with running away and being involved at the fair incident. But nope. This was his first time inside the actual establishment, and it was… cozier? Then he’d imagined. The room he and his sisters had been led to was equipped with leather seats, a coffee table and warm lighting. His mother had even mumbled about it to their father when they walked in.
“Wow. They fixed this place up, huh?”
“Well, it’s been over a decade, blue.”
“I know! It’s just, wow.”
Scamp and his sisters were now huddled together on a row of chairs—Annette pretending to be engrossed in her paperback, Collette playing with her hair and Danielle swaying back and forth. They’d been offered drinks—his father opting for tea, mother for coffee and Collette orange juice. Scamp pulled out his phone. 32% battery. He cursed lightly under his breath and received an eager look from Danielle.
“What was that, Scamp?”
He shot her a light scowl and looked at his phone again. Dry other than texts from Angel asking for police station updates. Scamp had none, at the moment. The officers had told them to wait. How long that wait would be was unclear. Scamp’s eyes darted from his parents, to his sisters, to the glass window outlooking the corridor.
“Alright there, kiddos?”
Scamp shrugged at his father, while each sister did something unique to them. Danielle nodded vigorously. Annette smiled and flashed a thumbs up. Collette scowled lightly, and looked at the ground.
“I wanna go home,” she whined. “Are they gonna ask us a lot of things? I didn’t even talk to that kid.”
“They’ll ask a few things, yes,” Lady said gently. “But it’s important. How would you feel if you were missing? Or one of your friends?”
“Scared. Sad.” Collette sighed. “I do hope the kid’s okay.”
“It’s only been a couple hours. Chances are he is.”
“It’s been a couple hours since he was reported, you mean,” Scamp pointed out. His parents shot him a look, and he stopped talking. Have hope or whatever. He felt Danielle lean against his side and tapped his foot on the linoleum floor. The missing boy was about his sisters’ age. Maybe a little younger. Scamp tried to remember everything from their brief encounter. Somewhere between those thoughts, his arm had draped around Danielle’s shoulders.
A drop of juice had spilled onto a floor tile. Rare, Scamp thought. Collette wasn’t one for spilling.
The sound of movement outside made him look up. Scamp’s eyes widened with surprise. In the corridor stood the entire Catterton family, the triplets looking frustrated and their parents somber. They were being escorted out by a cop.
Scamp squinted in confusion. “What are the Cattertons doing here?”
“Huh. Don’t know,” Tramp scratched his head, then waved with a grin. Mr O’Malley had noticed them. The officer seemed to take his job pretty seriously; he let them exchange no more than quick waves and then he was escorting them away again.
Scamp got up and darted to the door, curiosity getting the better of him. A couple calls of “Scamp!” from each parent followed and were promptly ignored. He caught up with the Cattertons soon enough, the kids lighting up at seeing him. Toulouse began bouncing at once and tugged his shirt.
“Scamp! They asked me a bunch of questions! And there was free candy!”
“How are you, darling?” Mrs Catterton—Duchess, as she was fondly known—asked gently. “I’m sure all of this must be terribly overwhelming.”
“Ah, I’ve had worse,” Scamp shrugged. “What’re you lot doing here?”
“We knew the boy, love. The children played with him often.” Duchess shook her head sadly. “They did say chances are good if it’s reported before the 24 hour mark, but—”
“Don’t worry over it, Duchess. They know what they’re doin’” Mr. O’Malley assured. “Besides, the kids here gave fantastic statements.”
Marie piped up at once. “I remembered his whole outfit. Everything he was wearing.”
“I told them he likes hot dogs,” Berlioz cut in, grinning up at Scamp. He laughed good-naturedly.
“That kid’s gonna have you to thank when they get him back.”
Toulouse was now fidgeting around in circles. “He liked to play tag with me the most. And he wasn’t a huge fan of the swings but he LOVED the jungle gym—”
“Alright dears, I’m afraid we do have to leave now,” Duchess gently moved Toulouse along, the other kids following. “Scamp, I believe, has to give his statement too. We want your friend found, don’t we?”
“Of course!”
The kids waved wildly at Scamp, and O’Malley flashed him a grin, adding something about saying hello to his parents from them. Scamp nodded, and headed back to the waiting room.
The questions went by faster than he’d thought. To be fair, they’d never even met the kid before that morning. Annette had bumped into him at the public library, and they’d managed to strike up a discussion about the logistics of “tesseracts”.
The boy had sounded giddy the entire time. He’d also seemed overly excited when Scamp complimented his sneakers. They were worn, but had a cool flame design plastered across.
After the officer was told all of this in detail, he nodded approvingly.
“Did he say anything else? Did he talk about anyone bothering him?”
“No, Mr. Police. We just talked about that book. He really liked it.”
“Alright. Thank you very much.”
“No worries,” Scamp shrugged, Danielle fidgeting with his arm. Collette’s juice cup lay empty, and she had wedged herself between their parents and lolled her head onto dad’s shoulder. Scamp rolled his eyes. Pretending to be asleep to be carried. Classic.
“Ooh! You’re getting a bit big for this, Coco,” their dad quipped, one hand behind her back and the other at her knees. Collette made a grunting sound that implied she didn’t care. Clearly neither did their father. Tramp said the same thing all the time but picked them up anyway. Probably would continue until it was totally physically impossible.
The evening air hit Scamp’s face the moment they stepped outside, cool and sharp after the warmth of the station. The sky had dimmed to dark blue, streetlights turned on down the block. His dad set Collette down gently and she immediately grabbed onto their mother’s hand, yawning dramatically. A mumble of “drama queen” escaped Annette, who then pretended to be very interested in a dead patch of grass. Collette’s yawny face had been replaced by a glare at her sister.
“Can we get pizza?” Danielle asked, tugging at Scamp’s sleeve for some reason. Wasn’t that a question for their parents? Then he realized she was probably just stimming; Danielle was looking up at their mother for an answer.
“We’ll see, sweetie,” Lady said, fumbling for her car keys.
Scamp stretched, rolling his shoulders. His phone buzzed—Angel again, probably. He was about to pull it out and give her the rundown when he noticed the group on the side of the building.
Four people were clustered together near the railing. They looked exhausted. One woman wore a patched denim jacket despite the chill, her hair loose around her shoulders. An older man beside her had paint-stained jeans and kept running a hand through his hair, agitated. There was a younger guy wearing a red ascot pacing in tight circles. And a short guy with dyed orange hair, arms crossed, staring at nothing.
An officer stood with them, clipboard in hand. His posture was stiff.
“—just need you to go over the timeline again,” he was saying. “You said he left the house around ten?”
“We’ve told you the timeline,” the younger guy snapped, stopping mid-pace. “Three times now. Why do you keep asking us the same questions?”
“We’re trying to be thorough,” the officer replied evenly. “A child is missing. I’m sure you understand.”
“We understand,” the woman said, her voice tight. “We’re the ones who reported it. We’re the ones who’ve been looking for him all day—”
“And we appreciate that. But we need to make sure we have all the facts straight.” The officer flipped a page on his clipboard. “Now, about your living arrangement. You all share one residence?”
The older man’s jaw tightened. “We’ve been over this.”
“I know. Just confirming.” The officer’s tone was neutral, but there was something underneath it. Something that made Scamp’s stomach twist. “And the boy—how long has he been in your care?”
“A year,” the woman said. Her voice cracked slightly. “He’s been with us for a year.”
“And there’s no legal guardianship on file?”
The short guy bristled. “We’re working on that! It takes time, and money, and—look, what does this have to do with finding him, amigo?”
“Just gathering information.” The officer made another note. “Has he ever run off before? Any behavioral issues?”
“No.” The younger guy’s fists clenched. “He’s a good kid. He doesn’t just take off.”
“Kids can be unpredictable,” the officer said. “Especially in… unstable situations.”
The woman flinched like she’d been slapped. “Our home is not unstable.”
Scamp’s dad had stopped walking. He stood a few feet away, his expression hard to read. His mother had noticed too, her hands frozen halfway to her purse. The girls were in the car, but Scamp could see Danielle’s face pressed against the window.
“We’re doing everything we can to locate him,” the officer continued. “But is there anything you’re not telling us? Anything that might explain why he left?”
“He didn’t leave, buddy!” the young man said, his voice breaking now. “Something happened. Something’s wrong!”
“We’ll look into every possibility,” the officer said, but his tone suggested he’d already made up his mind about what the most likely possibility was. “We’ll be in touch.”
He turned and headed back into the station, leaving the group standing there in the growing darkness.
For a moment, nobody spoke. The woman pressed a hand to her forehead, shoulders shaking. Two of the others came to sit around her. The younger guy kicked at the concrete and swore under his breath.
From behind Scamp, Tramp cleared his throat quietly.
“Come on, kiddo. Let’s go.”
Scamp lingered just for a second longer. Long enough to hear the young man speak again. His voice was no longer cursing. Instead it was low and desperate.
“Oliver wouldn’t run off like this.“